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#sam winchester

how does sam recover so fast in red meat 11.17?

sam and dean get over wounds and concussions so easily compared to real life, it makes me wonder. maybe their bodies are more resilient because they’re meant to be the vessels of the two most powerful angels? maybe, once they start getting healed by angels, a little bit of the grace stays inside them, builds up over time, and helps them recover, or being healed just makes their bodies stronger in general.

or maybe chuck just wants his favorite show to go on a little longer, with more action, more often.

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I know I wrote about a FBI spin off before

But how about one with the British Men of Letters watching keeping an eyes on Sam and Dean would be great too

They’ve been watching them since the first apocalypse right?

They have better weapons but they only decided to interfere after Amara

Just imagine them with their high tec shit keeping an eye on the brothers

“Damn that car is- *sex noises??*”

“We could have had eliminated that nest of vampires by now, look at them with their machetes” or “YAS YOU SLAY THAT VAMPIRE.”

“How is it that we keep a better track of that angel of theirs than Dean does he clearly-, damn I feel like I’m watching some drama-romance tv show, not that I’m complaining.”

“Honestly I understand if Sam can’t tell if the angel is behaving weird, but Dean, he should be able to tell, the two of them are literally *firious hand gestures*.”

“Hey there’s fan fiction about the two of them, boy if the fans only knew how much more frustration the sexual tension is when you can see it.”

“JUST KISS ALREADY!”

“Holy shit that’s some good fan art”

“Same Becky Same”

“Shit I think I got emotionally attached to them, ITS NOT MY FAULT I HAVE TO LOOK AT THEM THROUGH SCREENS I SOMETIMES FORGET THAT THEY’RE REAL ALRIGHT”

Just watch them slowly become us honestly

They either hate them or start to love them

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Part 19: smut! This was my first time writing smut so I’m not sure how this will read out. It might be awkward because I’m not used to writing smut, so good luck!

———

An hour passed, Sam wasn’t back and Dean was asleep holding Castiel. A text alert went unread; Sam decided to let the couple have more time alone and went to see a movie. Cas moved in Dean’s arms and woke him up.

“Sorry” Cas said quietly. Dean breathed in and let go.

“You’re good. Do you know how long I was out?”

“An hour.” Dean nodded and rubbed his eyes. He stretched and laid his head on Cas’ shoulder. Cas leaned his head on Dean’s. Hesitantly, Cas kissed Dean’s forehead. Dean leaned into the angel’s lips. He turned his head and pecked Cas’ chin and neck. Cas tilted his head back slightly, encouraging him. He smiled and moved downwards, kissing his chest and stomach

“Dean…” Cas said. Dean looked up and climbed on top of Cas. “Sam?”

Dean groaned, “Out, and the door’s locked.” Cas nodded and pulled Dean down. He kissed him fervently. Dean pulled off his shirt and took off Cas’ trench coat and shirt as well. He ran his hand down Cas slowly. Cas fumbled with Dean’s belt, hands shaking slightly.

With his belt undone, Dean pulled his pants off. He bent over and kissed Cas again. His lips never moved past his collarbones as his hands explored. Dean’s hand slipped past Cas’ belt line and Cas shut his eyes tight. Dean closed his hand and moved it gently back and forth. Cas moaned quietly. Dean trailed his tongue along Cas’ side as he began his way down again.

Eagerly, he tugged the rest of Cas’ clothes off. Laying naked, the angel blushed lightly. Dean smiled and took one of Cas’ hands before lowering his head. He wrapped his lips around Cas’ penis and pushed it in and out. His tongue swirled around it. Cas moaned again, less quietly.

“Oh, Dean.” Dean could feel how close Cas was. He took his mouth off of Cas and raised his body. He pulled off his underwear and brought his waist down, grinding slowly. Cas gripped the sheets around him and his back hitched. A stream of white came out. Dean smiled against Cas’ shoulder, his own penis growing harder. Cas breathed heavily as he reached for Dean.

Dean thrust into Cas’ hand and let Cas work him. He moaned as he felt close to coming. Cas moved faster and Dean came. He fell onto the bed next to Cas, both sticky and sweaty. They looked at each other and smiled softly, holding hands again.

———

Yeah… that was probably not very good, but it’s my first smut so there’s room and a chance to improve!

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The Way You Move Those Hips

This is for you honeybunch @bottomjaredandsamlibrary

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You think it’s the same one?” Dean muttered, looking through the front window of the Impala, squinting as a group of long-legged busty women headed inside a building called ‘A Tall Drink of Water’. “What the fuck kinda name is that for a strip bar anyway?”


“Fits everything that happened before. Would make sense since Chuck decided he wanted to let out all the things we’ve hunted before. And as for the name, in case you didn’t notice, all of its… ahem, employees, are very… leggy,” Sam said with an exaggerated look at the ladies. Dean had to agree with that.


“So what, we play FBI again? Disgruntled husbands who found out their wives cheated? Boss and unpaid intern bitching about work? Or just go gank the damn thing all over again, guns blazing?” Dean didn’t have to look to know Sam was rolling his eyes at him.


“No, we might have to try a different approach this time,” he said, nudging his brother’s head to focus on the small sign in the window. 


“Oh hell no.”


“No way Sammy. No. There is no way in Hell I’m letting you do this,” Dean said, doing his best to not yell at his brother. It wasn’t Sam’s fault, he knew that. No, it wasn’t his brother’s fault that they had walked into the bar posing as applicants for bartenders. It wasn’t his fault that the owner had taken one look at Sam - a very long look in Dean’s opinion - and decided that he’d be perfect for Ladies Night. It wasn’t his fault that now Dean was dressed in his tightest jeans and a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his biceps - the owner had given him a second look that time - while Sam stood in front of him in a white button down shirt and snug black pants. 


“Dean, if we’re gonna catch this Siren, again, then we gotta play our parts. Just remember-”


“I know, no shared drinks and no drunken kisses. You take all the joy out of strip bars Sammy.” Sam just snorted at his comment and was about to make a comment back when the owner came up to him, pressing a hand down on his shoulder. 


“Alright big guy, let’s get you backstage. The ladies will be coming in soon. And you, you handsome sonofabitch, you keep all your tips. So make sure to bat those pretty eyes of yours if you wanna make some real money.” He said this last part to Dean, who grumbled as Sam, laughing quietly, went to the back of the bar, slipping behind a curtain and disappearing from view.


Oh, he hoped they caught this damn thing tonight. He didn’t know how much of this he could take.

Dean kept his eyes scanned, never knowing who could be the Siren - there had been men and women killers this time, so anyone could be next. Of course, that didn’t stop him from giving all the ladies at the bar his trademark smirk. He was making some good tips tonight. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’ll be dead any day from something or other, he could be a bartender for good he thought. 


He didn’t really notice right away that Sam had taken the stage, focused on a petite blonde at the bar celebrating her engagement with some friends. But her attention was soon dragged away, making Dean look up.


He was sure his jaw dropped.


Sam was up there, in his white shirt and black pants, barefoot. His hips were swaying side to side to the music as his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of the shirt. Dean could see women calling to his brother, throwing money down on the stage, but he couldn’t focus his attention on anything but the man who continued dancing. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one - all of the ladies who had been at the bar were now focused on Sam.


As Sam undid the last of the buttons, he let the shirt slip down his shoulders, the ladies hollering at his bare chest, oohing at the dark hair that covered the broad expanse of skin. He tossed the shirt to a lady, who squealed before another tried to take it away. He had to turn his back from them so he didn’t get caught rolling his eyes. Which didn’t seem to be a problem, because now he was showing the ladies the smooth panes and hard muscles of his back, the sweet taper to his waist. 


He continued the smooth movements of his hips as he turned back around, his hands now teasing at the button of the pants. 


The ladies went wild, all of them gathering closer to the stage. Dean himself leaned farther across the bar so he could get a better look. Not that he wanted to ogle his brother, but hey, man was good looking - Dean could appreciate that.


Sam actually catches Dean’s eye, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he snaps open the button of the pants.  


Dean tugs his bottom lip between his teeth before he lets out a soft breath. They probably wouldn’t have looked away, except a server grabbed Dean’s attention for some drinks, breaking their eye contact. Sam rolled his shoulders - a graceful movement to the music as well as a way to shake off the feeling that had briefly crowded his mind while he had looked at Dean. 


He focuses his attention back on the ladies, his eyes drifting to one who is sitting in a corner by herself, eyes shifting back and forth, as if looking for someone. Her shoulders were hunched, her purse gripped tightly in her hands. 


Sam lets his fingers tug slowly at the zipper on the pants, hips still moving, his whole body one long graceful wave to the music, as he kept an eye on her. He had to let Dean know, but he couldn’t stop right now. Even though he kinda wanted to. Instead, he pulled down the zipper all the way and began to slide the pants down his legs.


Dean was really glad he was behind the bar right now. One, he could easily grab a bottle of beer and chug it down his suddenly dry throat, and two, no one could see how much tighter his pants had gotten.


Holy shit, he had just popped a boner for his little brother. 


To be fair, Dean had always known Sam was good-looking, but here he stood on the stage, still moving those damn hips as he stepped out of the black pants, in nothing but a pair of very tiny black boxer-briefs. They definitely did not leave much to the imagination. 


Sam leaned up against the pole on stage, moving his hips to the music as he let the ladies ogle him, and it made Dean wonder something.


Just how did his little brother get so good at this?


….

(♡ Let me know if you want me to write more of this idea! ♡)

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Your father was supposed to protect you.
He was trying. He died trying, believe me. I used to be mad at him I mean, I used to.. I used to hate the guy. But, now I.. I get it. He was just doing the best he could and he was trying to keep it together in this impossible situation. See, my mom um, she was amazing, beautiful and she was the love of his life. And she got killed and I think he would’ve gone crazy if he didn’t do something.

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Summary: Y/N thought she’s twisted, and her feelings are sick as she loves her older half-brother. When the truth gets revealed she sees her feelings in a different light. This is not real incest they are not related by blood!

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester, OMC Grant, Jo Harvelle, Bobby Singer

Warnings: language, angst, incest-ish (not really, just in case), horny/needy Dean, fluff, comforting, light smut, unprotected sex, violence, language

Twisted Feelings Masterlist

Three weeks later…

“Come on Baby, please.” Dean whines into your neck. He’s desperate by now as you did not let him touch you, well you let him touch you, but he was not allowed to cum.

“The answer is no…” You state not turning around as Dean starts grinding against you. Nipping at your neck he kneads your breasts, trying anything to change your mind. “Please, I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t make me beg any longer.”

He’s butt-naked, rock-hard and desperately trying to make you forgive him for the things he said.

“You hurt me, Sammy, and damaged our relationship. I’m not in the mood for sex with someone not trusting me.” You pout tugging at the blanket covering you to move away from Dean.

Keep reading

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image

Originally posted by nerdangels

Summary: Mary comes back only to find you claimed by her eldest son. So far she accepted you by his side, but now everything changed, and she has to get rid of you…

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam, Mary Winchester, Jody Mills, Claire Novak, Alex Jones

Warnings: angst (I’m not sorry…), ABO Dynamics, sad reader, harassment, pregnant reader, angry Dean, Dean being a douche, comforting (Sam), jealous Dean, breakup, fluff

Words: 2725

For my fanfic Bobby is still alive (he only get’s mentioned)

“Mary, you’re back! You look great.” You say smiling as Sam and Mary walk down the stairs. Mary is smiling, she likes to have you around even if she doesn’t like the fact you are Dean’s ‘rut bunny’.

Your eyes drift toward Dean walking out of the kitchen. He’s distant at first, standing next to you he waits for Mary to make the first step. You know he missed his mother over the last months.

Mary is still smiling as she reaches the library, hugging you she freezes, there’s a claiming mark on your neck. Maybe you finally found an Alpha and will leave Dean alone?

Dean is nodding at his mother. Now moving behind you he wraps his arms around your waist, kissing his claiming mark.

Keep reading

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Commissions are OPEN

So I don’t think I’ve ever officially announced this or made a post about it, so here it is!

My commissions are currently open! At the moment I’m accepting one off commissions (so nothing that would be ongoing as those slots are currently full on Patreon) 

I’ll accept commissions for drabbles, oneshots or a mini series. The length of what you want can be discussed. 

-

I’ll currently write for one or more of the following…

Jeffrey Dean Morgan / Negan / John Winchester

Jensen Ackles / Dean Winchester

Jared Padalecki / Sam Winchester

Frank Castle

FP Jones

-

You know me, I’ll write pretty much anything. Just let me know what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if it’s out of my comfort zone!  

-

I don’t really have a fixed price, it’ll depend what you want, how many words you want it to be etc so just message me your thoughts and I’ll let you know a price and we can take it from there! 

It’s probably best to message me privately so we can actually chat rather than sending me an ask!

Much love!

image

<3 <3 <3

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sam: you’re in love with cas.

dean: no.. i mean

dean: when he smiles - my whole world lights up.. he makes me feel like home… and honestly i’d die for him but.. i’m not in love with him.

sam, totally done: okay yes you’re right dude.

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it’s you. ➝ dean winchester.

image

Originally posted by frozen-delight

dean winchester x reader

word count: 1315

author’s note: this is my first piece of writing in a long time, so feel free to leave constructive criticism and requests!


The days seemed to have passed in a blur. A smear of color and time that you had no idea how to keep track of. Everything just seemed to exist, with no meaning.

The people you and the Winchester’s had saved from the alternate reality enjoyed the warm lifestyle of the bunker, occasionally going on hunts, throwing dinner get togethers whenever everyone was home, even enjoying the occasional cocktail party at the local bar, but you sat alone in your room, knees pulled up to your chest as your body wracked with sobs.

It had been like this when Dean had been resurrected by the Mark of Cain. Sitting in your room, not bothering to leave unless the case involved evidence pointing towards Dean, or anything involving any sort of suspicious angel activity.

Sam had tried multiple times to get you out of your room, on a simple hunt, hell even Castiel visited you a couple of times to check in. But to no avail, you sat on the memory foam mattress in his room, one of his flannels wrapped tightly around your torso as you cried.

You knew this was unhealthy, knew that if you didn’t get up and at least go on one hunt with Sam that Dean would personally kick your ass when he came back for sitting here, crying, doing nothing to actually help yourself or Sam, or anyone else that lived in the bunker.

Not that Sam minded, he knew the pain you were going through, the unimaginable experience of losing your lover, your best friend. There was nothing like it.

Sam couldn’t deny the coldness of the bunker, how eyes would drop, expressions softened whenever you actually walked into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat after hours of hiding away in Dean’s room, how the occasional person, usually Mary, would place her hand on your shoulder, and you would stiffen, eyes welling with tears.

He would quickly walk over, attempting to intervene by talking to the group about cases, hHe had become a sort of leader for them, even you could see it, and you were grateful that he had distracted them so their attention was finally off of you.

But today the bunker had been empty, eerily quiet as you walked through the hallways, your footsteps echoing along the way. A slight chill in the air, you rubbed your cool forearms, startled at how cold your skin felt to the touch, when was the last time you had a warm shower?

A few stragglers remained around the bunker, scattered from the library to the kitchen, a group of three sat at the table in the the library, books open but long forgotten, laughing at a joke one of the girls had said. Her brown hair cascaded down her back, half up in a braid, you recognised her.

Smiling brightly, she noticed her friends had stopped laughing, their gaze now focused on your figure, she turned, her eyes a deep green, reminding you of Dean.

Eyes filling with tears, you quickly rushed back to your room, covering your mouth with your hand, a failed attempt of silencing your sob. How ridiculous, you thought, how something as small as the colour of a persons eyes could remind you of him. How a glance at the green of hers brought you back to those moments with Dean, where you lay silently entangled with one another, studying his features, staring into his eyes, memorising everything about him. From the curve of his jaw, to the plumpness of his lips to, to the freckles that lightly dusted his cheeks.

You leaned your head back against the door with a soft thud, eyes staring blankly towards the bed, the bed you had shared with Dean merely days ago. The cream coloured sheets ruffled from your constant tossing and turning during the night, never able to get a full nights sleep without him. His pillows, now tear stained, sat at the edge of the bed, having been thrown earlier that day, in frustration, in agony.

The loud bang of the bunker door closing startled you, no one was expecting any hunters back for at least a week, and those who resided here for the time being weren’t supposed to leave, not until Sam showed up.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you stood up, silently praying that Sam was back with at least a sliver of intel on Dean’s whereabouts.

You opened the door, stepping into the hallway. The first thing you noticed were the lively voices coming from the front rooms of the bunker. You sighed, hoping that Sam was the one to come through the annoyingly loud metal door of the bunker, hoping he was back with a small shred of hope.

Walking in the direction of the library, you heard the faint sound of footsteps along with the familiar voice of Sam Winchester, causing  a sigh of relief. You were glad he was back.

“It’s me,” Sam spoke from around the corner, a soft chuckle following.

“It’s just every time & think about it, you know, it’s like a- it’s like a nightmare.” Dean replied.

You froze, not believing what you had just heard, Dean, Dean Winchester had just replied to Sam. Impossible, there was no way Sam wouldn’t have told you, he would not have left you in the dark about Dean, he would have told you, at least you though he would of.

Your hands began to shake as their voices grew closer, “I mean, I can’t eat,” Dean spoke again, what could they possibly be talking about? His time being possessed by michael?

“Dean,” Sam huffed in annoyance, “It’s just a beard.”

You held your breath as they turned the corner, smiles bright on both of their faces. Sam was the first one to notice you, standing in the middle of the hallway, tears falling from your eyes as you looked at Dean, his back to you.

“Great cause ‘Duck Dynasty’ called and they just- they want it all back.” Dean gestured to Sam, whose eyes remained set on you. How Dean hadn’t noticed you yet was beyond him.

You took a sharp intake of breath jolting his attention from Sam to you. Pinching the skin of your forearm, you winced, this couldn’t be real. Dean was here, standing in front of you, in a rumpled collared shirt with a tear at the sleeve. He looked terrible, but he was alive.

“Dean,” you murmured, stepping up to him, hands raised hesitantly, it couldn’t have been this easy, Michael should have, no, Michael would have put up more of a fight to keep Dean as his vessel, so why was he here, standing in front of you?

“Y/N,” he smiled softly, noticing your hesitance. He placed his hand over yours, cupping his slightly stubbled cheek with it, instinctively, you ran your fingers softly along his cheek bone “It’s me, don’t worry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up into his green eyes, the eyes of the man you loved, the ones you could get lost in forever if you wanted to, the eyes of Dean, your Dean, “It’s really you,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, “You’re here!”

“Yeah baby, I’m here,” he whispered against your neck, warm tears falling down his cheeks and onto the cool skin of your neck.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you spoke, embracing him tighter, “I thought you were gone.”

He chuckled, pulling back to cup your face in his large, calloused hands, “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he smiled before placing his lips on yours passionately.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, eagerly deepening the kiss, “I’m never letting you go,” you whispered against his lips.

He smiled against you, teeth brushing over your upper lip, “I think I can live with that.”

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