samsexualdeancurious

[samsexualdeancurious]

The Sight of Stars (Makes Me Want to Dream)

Pairing: Technically none but I'm calling Sam x Castiel cos I wrote it and therefore I can 😤

Words: 1,027

Summary: Castiel returns from a year-long journey into the depths of Hell with precious cargo in tow.

Warnings: The Cage, mentions of torture

A/N: This is just a lil something expanding on an idea @wendibird had, also betaed by her 🥰️ This isn't very Christmas-y but I love it and Sam coming back from the dead is always a gift

---

Castiel’s wings burn with each upward push but he doesn’t slow down. He did not come this far, spend this long wandering the depths of Hell, only to fail when he finally has what he came for cradled against his chest.

His true form burns bright in the darkness of Hell and he knows it draws attention. He roars with his lion head even as his gazelle head swivels, noting the dark eyes peering at him from the shadows and darker forms lunge at him. Their screeches fill the air. Their claws leave Grace-bright marks on his body and tear feathers from his wings but he pushes on. His blade flashes around him and Demons fall away, vanishing into the depths of the Pit below.

Faintly, he thinks he can hear Lucifer screaming.

Castiel seems to fly forever and yet for no time at all, the strangeness of Hell twisted around him. A sliver of doubt is creeping into the corner of his mind when he sees it at last - a light, just a glimmer, that belongs in this darkness just as much as he does. Demons reach out, desperate to keep him. Fire licks and catches on his feathers. Castiel pushes himself farther, faster. Just a little more. Almost there -

Cool night air washes over his face as he slots back into the Earthly plane and the vessel he left waiting for him. He feels the gate of Hell close behind him as his knees buckle and Castiel tumbles into the grass, Sam Winchester still cradled in his arms.

--

Sam wakes with cool air in his lungs, grass beneath his body, and a vast expanse of stars above him.

He blinks up at the stars. Lucifer has made illusions with stars, of course, but never so many and besides, they always felt… wrong. Like a sky much younger than the one Sam is accustomed to. The one he’s looking at right now.

He breathes deeply and tastes sweet night air. Fresh, in a way not even Lucifer has proven himself capable of so far. Perhaps the Devil is improving. Perhaps Michael has a hand in this, though Sam strongly doubts that. The two are united in their hatred of him and that alone but Michael has never participated in Lucifer's games before.

A breeze stirs his hair and Sam soaks it in. He wants to enjoy every moment of this new trick while it remains peaceful.

"Sam."

Hm. That's a new one. Dean, Lucifer has conjured plenty of times. Enough that Sam almost feels immune. Almost. But Castiel? Never. Lucifer really is upping his game, then.

"Samuel."

Sam doesn't look. Being ignored will just piss Lucifer off but Sam wants to look at the stars and pretend he doesn't hurt to his very core.

His head is pillowed on an arm, he realizes. It moves now. Adjusts. Then a hand presses against his forehead and Grace washes through him.

Sam gasps, and his spine arches off the grass as panic rises in his chest and threatens to swallow him whole. But this Grace… it tastes different, on the back of his tongue. Unfamiliar and yet, very familiar. Not ice and fear. Not ash and flame. This is sweet. A warm spring rain, cleansing and gentle right down to his soul. He knows intrinsically that there are things wrong with him that not even an Angel can heal but the relief still leaves him breathless.

Castiel.

Sam looks, finally, and finds blue eyes watching him with concern. They soften when they meet his.

"There you are," Castiel murmurs.

Sam's gaze shifts beyond him at a movement over Cas’s shoulder and his brow furrows. Huge wings rise up from Castiel’s back. Tattered and charred, smoke rising from the feathers still, and still beautiful in a way that is beyond this plane of existence. The feathers are inky black and seem to mirror the stars above them. They flutter and one curves over Sam, like Cas is trying to protect him. When Sam blinks, though, all he sees is the stillness of the night sky.

"Castiel," Sam whispers, turning his gaze back to his friend’s face and God, his voice feels like it hasn't been used in at least a year. "Cas."

"Hello, Sam. It's good to see you."

Confusion and wonder war in Sam's head as he tries to work through what is going on. "How…? Where…?"

"We're in Stull Cemetery," Cas says softly. "Exactly one year from your leap into the Cage."

Sam blinks. "I'm not…?"

"In the Cage? Not anymore. You're safe now. Lucifer cannot touch you again."

The sob that tears itself from Sam's throat is raw and primal. He’s not sure he believes, not yet, but he wants to. He wants nothing more than to be so certain of his own safety. Of his family’s safety.

His brother. Where is his brother? The last thing Sam remembers of Dean is him with a face swollen from Sam’s own fists, kneeling on the grass by the car. Is he here still? How long has it been?

Sam tries to sit up but Cas holds him down. His hand flies up to grip the angel’s wrist. "Dean…?"

"Safe,” Cas assures him. “He was with Bobby last I saw. Though, that was a year ago.”

“A year?” Sam gasps.

“The Cage is deep in Hell. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Cas looks ashamed of himself, even though he fucking saved Sam. Saved him. He’s still processing that one. The warm press of Cas’s hand against his chest helps, skin on skin. A small corner of his mind realizes he’s naked but somehow it’s not important. He’s alive. He’s not in the Cage. It still feels impossible.

“Cas,” he says softly. “Pinch me?”

Cas’s brow furrows but he obediently pinches a spot next to Sam’s tattoo.

“Ow,” Sam hisses, batting his hand away. “Fuck. This is. Fuck.” He lets his head fall back against Cas’s arm. “I’m really out?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam manages a small smile, allowing that little spark of hope in his chest to grow. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas returns the smile. “Happy to help.”

---

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—

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#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #sastiel #samcas #sam/cas

[samsexualdeancurious]

Two More Sleeps

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Prompt: Christmas fluff

Written for a Demon Patron's request

---

Dean’s not sure how “I don’t really do Christmas” turned into a massive tree in the library, lights and garlands all over the shelves, and Y/N wrapping presents on one of the tables. Sam has been banished from the library for the time being because “Christmas presents are supposed to be a surprise, Samuel!” but Dean is allowed in because his presents are already under the tree.

He has to admit, her excitement over picking the just-right gift for everyone is adorable and a bit infectious. Sam and Dean haven’t really worried about Christmas since that last one before Dean went to Hell but Y/N dragged Dean into shopping with her and now he’s sitting across from her at the table, carefully taping the ends of a wrapped gift for his brother. On top of that, he’s… excited for Sam to open these?

He catches Y/N’s eye across the table and she grins, setting aside a perfectly wrapped gift and Dean feels a moment of shame at his own wrapping skills but then she reaches over to take his finished gift and place it under the tree with her own.

“Two more sleeps ‘til Christmas,” she proclaims.

“Sleeps?” Dean echoes with a laugh as he rounds the table to loop his arms around her from behind.

She gasps in mock horror. “We’re watching The Muppet Christmas Carol tomorrow because it is a crime that you don’t get that reference.”

He kisses her temple. “Of course.”

Maybe he’s warming up to Christmas.

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester/reader #dean winchester x reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

Die Happy

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Just a lil something from a dialogue prompt

---

"Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress,” you declare, poking at Sam’s chest.

“The restaurant has a dress code?” he answers hesitantly.

You laugh and grip the front of his jacket, straightening it. “Not good enough, Sammy. Think harder.”

You shoot him a wink and move to step back but understanding darkens his eyes then. His hands find your hips and he pulls you close.

“How about,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous in the best way. The way that sends shivers up your spine and has heat blossoming in your belly. “You wear a dress and I…” he draws the word out as his hands drift up the curve of your waist, “I’ll take it off of you.”

You grin and lift your chin to catch his lips in a kiss. “Now you’re getting it. I’m thinking the red one. I like how my ass looks in it.”

Sam groans and lets his head fall forward against yours. “You’re gonna kill me tonight, aren’t you?”

“At least you’ll die happy.”

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #sam x reader #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction

[samsexualdeancurious]

Christmas Dress

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Prompt: Kitchen sex

Written for a Demon Patron request

---

“Babe?”

“In the kitchen!” you call over your shoulder, not taking your eyes off the shredded cheese you’re sprinkling over the lasagna you’ve spent the last hour putting together.

You hear Sam’s footsteps in the hall, on the steps, and then he’s pressing against your back with a groan. One hand lands right on your ass.

“Y/N,” he says in a low voice and you smirk, grinding back against him. The fuzzy hem of your dress tickles your bare thighs.

“Like it?” you ask.

In answer, his other hand slides around to your pelvis and presses your ass against his hips. “What do you think?” he growls low in your ear.

That’s all the warning you get before he’s dragging you away from the lasagna, spinning you around, lifting you up to sit on the counter, and pressing in between your thighs. The speed of the movements steals your breath and his hands gliding your carefully-selected panties down your legs without a glance definitely don’t help. He shoves the dress up your hips and you lean back on your hands. He looks down then, at your spread legs and the red fabric clinging to your curves.

“Merry Christmas,” you purr as he frees his cock.

He slides into you with one smooth thrust that drives all further thought from your mind and pulls you in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, indeed,” he murmurs against your lips.

The lasagna does get put in the oven eventually but dinner is definitely late.

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #sam x reader #sam winchester/reader #sam winchester x reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

Daddy (NSFW)

Pairing: John x Reader

Prompt: "Daddy" + continuing "Princess"

Written for a Demon Patron's request

---

“There you go,” John praises as he sinks into the tight, perfect heat of her body. Her breath catches in her throat when his balls press against the plush curve of her ass. He pets her inner thighs before reaching out to catch one fluttering hand and hold her steady. “Good girl.”

“John,” she whines, eyes wide.

“I gotcha.”

He rolls his hips, a small movement just to test the waters, and flicks his thumb over her clit. Her back arches with a gasp.

“Daddy!”

They both freeze. Y/N’s free hand flies to her mouth and the one in John’s grip attempts to do the same but he holds firm. For his part, he’s stopped mid-thrust as his mind replays that one word over and over and he tries not to come right. Fucking. Now.

“Sorry-” Y/N starts but John shakes his head and leans down to silence her with a kiss.

“Tell Daddy what you need, baby girl.”

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #john x reader #john winchester/reader #john winchester x reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

All Out (NSFW)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 1,152

Summary: After a lot of kink exploration, Y/N asks Dean to go all out for her.

Warnings: Bondage, blindfolds, spanking, nipple clamps, sex toys.

Written for an Angel Patron's request

---

Your breathing is loud in the quiet of the bedroom. He moves as silent as a cat as he circles you, the shifting of air against your bare skin the only clue to his location. Your eyes are closed tight behind the blindfold and you have t resist the urge to use your other sense to track him around the room. Thankfully, he doesn’t leave you hanging too long and soon his big, warm hand is curling around the back of your neck. The pad of his thumb strokes the soft spot where neck meets skull and your breath catches. You can’t see it but you know Dean is smirking.

He was so uncertain when the two of you first started branching out from - excellent - vanilla sex into the wide world of kink. He’s come a long way, though, from those initial ventures to tonight, where you’ve asked him to go all out. You’re proud of the change from that sweet, nervous man to the powerful, confident Dom who’s currently checking the ropes keeping your arms folded behind your back.

“Comfy?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” you murmur.

“Good. What do you say if that changes?”

“Changes in a bad way” is the unspoken qualifier. You know exactly what he means. Pinched nerves, numbness… the “not fun” kind of uncomfortable.

“Yellow,” you answer obediently.

“Good girl.”

That’s all the warning you get before one hand grips a fistful of your hair and drags your head back. You gasp, back curving to keep your knees under you. His other hand curls under your jaw. Your breath quickens under his touch. You can feel his gaze on you, considering.

“Up.”

A tug on your scalp, gentle pressure on your jaw, and you’re stumbling to your feet. Dean guides you forward and you know the bed is right there but it still surprises you when your knees meet the edge of the mattress. Dean helps you climb up onto it and knee-walk forward a few steps, and then he pushes your shoulders forward.

He positions you on your knees and shoulders, head turns sideways and cheek pressed against the mattress with your hips in the air. Heat coils in your belly as Dean’s hand strokes the curve of your ass.

“Gorgeous.”

You preen a little at the praise even as you itch for him do to something - anything. When his hand is pulled away, you can’t suppress a whine.

Dean chuckles. “Eager.”

“Please.”

“Please, what? What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Touch me,” you plead.

Of course, you don’t specify how you want to be touched and Dean takes advantage of that opening. You’re expecting it, in fact, so the smack of his palm against your ass only surprises you a little. Pleasure-pain zings through your body. Your pussy clenches.

“Someone likes that,” Dean teases.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he really lays into it. The rhythm is steady, as he warms your skin evenly. You’re squirming and whining, torn between running from the pain and pressing back into the pleasant warmth that follows. Your clit is throbbing, untouched so far.

“Beautiful,” Dean praises and you feel the mattress dip beside you.

The bare skin of his thigh presses against your own and your mind whirls, trying to work out when he took his clothes off. You don’t have much time to consider this mystery, though, before a hand digs into your hair again and you’re yanked upright. His free hand comes up to cup your left breast, catching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You whine, low in your throat.

“Stay.”

You obey as Dean lets go of your hair and turns his full attention to your breasts. You’re not sure what he has planned as he massages your nipples to stiff peaks but realization comes quickly at the bite of the clamps.

“Oh,” you breathe.

Dean tugs the chain and chuckles at the sound that pulls from you. He flips you around to lay on your back, legs spread and hips twitching with desperation. You’re completely at his mercy with your hands still bound behind your back. There’s nothing stopping him from bringing four fingers down on your exposed pussy. You cry out, back arching and clit aching for more.

“Hold this for me, sweetheart.” The cold chain of the nipple clamps is lifted off your chest and placed between your teeth. You groan as this forces you to keep still to avoid pulling too hard. “Good girl.”

You whimper and when another smack lands between your legs, you have to fight to keep still. Your knees close reflexively.

“Open up,” Dean orders with a pat against your inner thigh, even though you’re already doing just that. “Good. Think you can stay still for me tonight?”

“No, sir,” you answer honestly.

“That’s ok.”

He touches your clit then, sliding a finger through your folds and then back up to tease at the hard bundle of nerves. You press up into the touch, eager for more, and he immediately pulls back.

“De-ean,” you complain, pouting when he laughs in amusement and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll take care of you, baby.”

You feel the shift in the mattress when he stands up. His hands fold your legs one at a time and loop rope around them in a frog tie before tying the ends to an anchor of some kind. The bed frame, you assume. Between that and the box tie keeping your arms in place, you’re totally at his mercy.

Once you’re completely pinned, he moves away. He’s only gone a few moments, though, and he’s accompanied by a familiar buzzing sound when he returns. You squirm, anticipation humming beneath your skin and stoking the fire in your belly.

“There’s a view.” Dean’s voice is low, a rumble that makes you shiver. “My gorgeous girl, spread out and waiting for me.”

His hand cups your mound, spreading your folds and dipping his middle finger into your entrance. You tongue the chain that’s still in your mouth and spread your legs wider for him.

“Sweet girl. I gotcha.”

His hand drifts up to press against your pelvis, holding you in place as he presses the vibrator to the base of your clit.

Pleasure rockets through your body. You gasp and twist in the ropes holding you, muscles clenching and flexing. Dean is relentless and you’re so on edge already. It doesn’t take long for you to be headed for your first peak of the night.

Right before you reach it, though, the vibrator is pulled away and Dean’s hand comes down sharply on your pussy. You let out a cry and pull hard on the clamps as you jerk your head back. Dean chuckles.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” His fingers stroke your folds and then the vibrator is back. “I wanna see how long you can last.”

---

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester/reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

Princess (NSFW)

Pairing: John x Reader

Written for Demon Patron's request

---

“John,” Y/N sighs against his jaw and he thinks, not for the first time tonight, that it’s a damn good thing her daddy is dead because he’d shoot John without hesitation if he could see them now.

Y/N’s grown up a lot in the decade-plus since John saw her last but some things haven’t changed. She was a wild child then and she hasn’t lost an ounce of that spirit. She knows what she wants and tonight, she’s decided, she wants John. He wasn’t sure. She may be all grown up but she’s still only Dean’s age and inexperienced as hell on top of that. But her hands in his hair are steady and when one heel digs into his thigh to grind his pelvis down against hers, the message couldn’t be clearer.

“John.”

She gasps when his teeth find her collar bone. The soft curve of her left breast. Her belly. Her breath hitches, her hips squirming under him. Her fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to her pelvis and her thighs flex. He smirks.

“Anyone done this for you, princess?” he asks as his fingertips stroke the silky skin of her inner thighs.

She shakes her head, gazing down at him.

He grins. “No one’s gonna compare.”

#my writing #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #john x reader #john winchester x reader #john winchester/reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

Good Girl, Pretty Girl (NSFW)

Pairing: Bucky x Nat x Reader

Words: 876

Summary: It's Nat's night to be in charge.

Warnings: Femdom, bondage, sex toys, oral (female receiving)

A/N: Just something small this week. Still struggling to work writing around work but I think we're getting there!

---

“Comfy?” Natasha purrs, fingers curling around your jaw and guiding your eyes up to hers.

The leather cuffs are lined with a satiny fabric to prevent chafing while your wrists are bound to the chair behind your back and your ankles to the chair legs. The seat is simple wood, cool against the bare skin of your ass, but comfortable enough. If you could move, you would look down at the vibrator carefully taped in place against your clit. It’s off, for now, but the anticipation alone has your pussy clenching.

“Yes, ma’am,” you answer.

“Good girl.” She pats your cheek and steps away, turning to where Bucky waits, naked, on the bed. His right hand is curled loosely around his cock but he freezes when she lifts a brow at him. When she speaks, her tone leaves no room for argument. “Hands off.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Bucky says as he immediately drops his hand to his side.

His job tonight is to be her toy and from how hard his cock is, you know he’s excited about the prospect. Nat’s presence and power are addictive. Enchanting. Bucky’s eyes are locked on the sway of her body as she crosses the room and climbs up to straddle his lap. Your own gaze traces the line of her back. The little dip at the base of her spine. When she tosses her head to get her hair out of her eyes and loops her arms around Bucky’s shoulders, your eyes go right to the soft curve of her neck as she leans in close to his ear.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Nat asks and Bucky's eyes, which had been turned towards her, immediately flit to meet yours. “So good for me. I think she deserves a show. Don’t you?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky rumbles and you squirm in your bonds at the pure lust in his tone.

Nat grins and kisses under the corner of his jaw. “Get to work then, big guy.”

That’s all the permission he needs. Both hands come up to curl around her hips and the pair flips, so Nat is sitting on the edge of the bed and Bucky is settling on his knees between her thighs. Your breath quickens as his palms slide up the pale skin of her inner thighs to spread them wide. He’s holding himself at an angle, so you can see when the flat of his tongue sweeps over her pussy from perineum to clit and hear his soft groan at the taste of her. Bucky is a quiet lover, especially in comparison to Natasha. Right on cue, Nat moans and falls back on her elbows. At the same time, one hand finds the remote hidden within the folds of the blanket and the vibrator between your own legs comes to life.

You cry out before you can stop yourself. Nat chuckles, a little breathless as Bucky tongues her clit. Her eyes remain locked on you even as Bucky works her towards her first orgasm. For your part, you can’t decide where to look. Where Bucky’s fingers are disappearing into her sweet, soaked pussy? Or the heave of her breasts with each breath? Or, hell, even the smooth line of her throat when she flicks her hair out her eyes. Every inch of the sight before you is art.

“Cum for me, baby,” Nat orders.

That’s an order you can follow, no problem. As Nat begins to fall over the edge of her own orgasm, yours hits hard and steals the air from your lungs.

“Fuck.” Nat’s right hand finds Bucky’s hair and pulls him up into a bruising kiss. Her other hand drops down to curl around his cock and she smirks at the needy sound he makes. His hips twitch but he manages to stay still.  “Good boy. C’mere, sit there.”

She guides him to a spot in the middle of the bed and then turns to face you as she settles her knees on either side of his hips. Your own hips keep twitching, rolling against the stimulation of the vibrator as it pushes you towards a second orgasm. When Nat reaches down to spread her pussy and guide Bucky inside, the sight practically shoves you off the cliff. She grins, pure mischief, and sinks to the base in one smooth motion. Behind her, Bucky moans and grabs at her waist.

“Oh,” Nat sighs as she leans back into Bucky’s support and circles her hips. Your eyes jump from her face to where Bucky is buried balls deep in her. “Pretty girl. Enjoying the view?”

You nod. Your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath even as the vibrator’s unrelenting stimulation pushes you towards orgasm number three.

“Good.” She flicks the remote and the vibrator kicks up a notch. You gasp and pull instinctively against your bonds, not that it does much. You’re flying towards the edge once more and Nat waits until you’ve regained some of your sense before asking, “How many times do you think you can cum?”

“Dunno,” you manage. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open and your hips are moving of their own accord. Nat placed the vibrator with surgical precision and there’s no escaping it.

“Let’s find out.”

---

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

#my writing #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #bucky x reader x nat #buckynatreader #bucky/reader/nat

[samsexualdeancurious]

Here (NSFW)

Pairing: Thor x Reader

For a Demon patron request

---

Thor’s hips roll against yours, small movements constrained by the way your legs are clamped tight around his body. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders to pull him closer and yet it’s not close enough. It will never be close enough, you realize as you gasp out his name into the curve of his throat. His pulse beats a reassuring rhythm in the soft place just beneath his jaw.

He’s here, it seems to chant. He’s alive.

When you were told by a frantic messenger boy that the King had fallen in battle, it was like your heart had been torn from your body. Now, every thrust and kiss and murmured word is a suture stitching you back together. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, dampening his beard and slipping across your temple to get lost in your hair. Each droplet seems to take a minute piece of your pain with it.

“I’m here,” Thor murmurs, a low rumble against the shell of your ear.

You just hold on tighter.

#my writing #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfic #thor x reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

Snow

Pairing: None

Words: 251

Summary: It snowed.

Warnings: None

A/N: Just a lil something inspired by my own feelings about how, at the time of writing in (in May) it had snowed AGAIN lol. I was so tired of snow

---

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sam glances up from his boots to where his brother stands in the open motel room door. “What?”

Dean steps to the side with a dramatic “look at this” gesture and Sam grimaces.

“Oh.”

“Fucking snow,” Dean grumbles, eyeing the untouched expanse that covers the Impala like a blanket. “Told you we should’ve stayed south. I’m sick of this shit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get the car warming up and I’ll help you clear it off.”

“Baby hates the cold,” is what he gets in response but Dean crunches out into the snow and pulls the sleeve of his jacket over his hand to wipe the snow off the door so it doesn’t fall inside. Sam can’t help a chuckle at his brother’s pout. He grabs his duffel and follows Dean out, letting the motel room door fall closed behind him after one final scan of the room to confirm nothing has been left behind.

The Impala stutters and chokes for a second but then roars to life, much to Sam’s relief. He’s not really in the mood for being stranded in a random nowhere town just because the car died.

“Fuck snow,” Dean proclaims once again as he gets out of the car and tosses the second ice scraper over the car for Sam. Of course, Dean took the longer one for himself. Asshole. “Don’t make that face. One of us has Sasquatch arms and it ain’t me.”

Sam glares at his brother and gets to work.

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction

[samsexualdeancurious]

Heaven in Hell (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Rowena

Words: 489

Summary: Rowena has ways to make her time at court more enjoyable.

Warnings: public sex, oral sex (female receiving), kind of dom!Rowena.

Set in a post-15x04 AU where Sam becomes the Boy King to Rowena's Queen of Hell, this fic is intended to be in the same AU as this 15x04 "fix-it" I wrote in 2019.

---

Rowena’s cries echo off the stone walls of her throne room as her orgasm rushes through her. Sam’s hands are steady on her hips, holding her in place even as she shakes apart under his ministrations. His mouth is a piece of Heaven in Hell - Sam himself is a piece of Heaven in Hell, if she’s going to be honest with herself. What better way to spend her afterlife than with Sam Winchester kneeling between her thighs, eating her out on her throne in front of her court?

“Good boy,” Rowena praises, more than a little breathy as she strokes Sam’s hair but her gaze is steady when she meets the black eyes of the nearest demon. They’ve been putting a genuine effort into not visibly reacting to Sam eagerly attending to her needs even as she discussed logistics. Despite their dedication to self-control, though, Rowena can still see the hunger in their gaze.

Sam lifts his head and his eyes are bright when they meet her’s. His lips are flushed as dark as his cheeks, his chin covered in her arousal, and she can’t help herself. Her grip on his hair tightens and she pulls him up on his knees to meets his mouth in a bruising kiss. Sam moans openly. She’d never had expected Sam to be a vocal lover but he has no qualms about telling the whole of Hell how much the Boy King enjoys his Queen.

Sam braces himself against the arms of her throne as he deepens the kiss with a hungry growl. His body fits between her thighs and her suspicions of his arousal are confirmed when his clothed bulge is pressed against her pelvis. She wants so badly to tell him to unzip and fuck her but she does want to get this meeting over with. Further interruptions will only draw it out longer. So instead of ordering him to take her right here on her throne, she slides one hand up the front of his long, beautiful neck to curl around his throat. He freezes and she feels the click of him swallowing. She doesn’t squeeze, just gently guides him back onto his heels.

“Down, boy,” she purrs.

Sam has his back to the room, so he has no qualms about pouting. It’s adorable and tempting but she’s not going to cave.

“Later, my dove. Be a dear and fix my skirt?”

Sam obeys but when he’s done, he doesn’t return to his own throne like she expected. Instead, he claims a spot sitting at her feet. His long legs sprawled across the top step of the dais, he leans his shoulder against her knee with a knowing smirk when he sees the jealousy on the faces of the court. Rowena smiles down at him before fixing the demon she was speaking with before her orgasm with a firm stare.

“Well? Get on with it. I don’t have all day.”

---

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—

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#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #samwitch #samwena #samrowena #sam x rowena #sam winchester/rowena

[samsexualdeancurious]

Mother Bear

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Written for a Demon Patron request

---

Dean’s breath is warm against your collarbone, his body a comfortable weight along your side. His arm is curled loosely around your waist. The TV is playing… something. Dean hit the new shuffle button on Netflix and it pulled up a nature documentary that’s apparently been sitting on your list for months. On screen, a mother bear is teaching her cubs to fish.

“Have you ever thought of having kids?” you ask suddenly, watching the mother bear demonstrate for her cubs.

Dean makes a startled sound in his throat. “What?”

“Kids. Have you ever…?” His lack of response has you feeling unsure about the question.

He hums thoughtfully and adjusts his position. “I don’t… know. Not really? But I didn’t ever think settling down would be an option and now look where we are.”

“I think you’d make a great dad,” you say, leaning your cheek against his forehead.

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“... is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me you want kids?” he chuckles and your cheeks warm.

“I didn’t - maybe? What do you think?”

He shifts to rest his chin against your shoulder, a thoughtful expression on his face. “... I think a little mini you would be pretty damn cute.”

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #dean x reader

[samsexualdeancurious]

#weneedtotalkaboutsam

[samsexualdeancurious]

Baby (NSFW)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Written for a Demon Patron's request

---

Dean’s body is warm and solid, fitting perfectly between your thighs. The weight of him pressing down on you, the heat of his cock spearing you open, it’s all so perfect. So mind-blowingly perfect. You really can’t be blamed for what comes out of your mouth.

Dean freezes when the words leave your lips, staring at you with wide green eyes. “... what?”

Your cheeks flush hot. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have - forget I said anything.”

Dean shakes his head and cups your cheek in one hand to keep you from turning away. “No, hey, look at me.”

“Dean-”

“You want me to breed you?”

Your face is literally on fire right now. There’s probably smoke. “... yes.”

“Is this a kink? Or a genuine desire?”

Very slowly, you whisper, “Both.”

Dean groans, low in his throat and leans down to kiss you hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, babe. Yeah. I can do that. I can definitely do that. We’re gonna talk about it later but for now…” He shifts up on his elbows and rolls his hips, driving in balls deep. You gasp in response and clutch at his shoulders. “Yeah. Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna give you a baby.”

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #dean x reader #my drabble

[samsexualdeancurious]

Sunflowers (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Jess

Words: 3,118

Summary: It's their first Valentine's Day together and Jess has a gift for Sam that's really a gift for both of them.

Warnings: FTM!Sam, strap-ons, vaginal sex, some gender/body stuff. I'm not transmasc myself but I am genderqueer and I drew on some of my own gender stuff for this.

Betaed by @samsbighonkintiddies

---

Valentine’s Day. Sam’s never put much thought into it, not since he was little and the only kid without a cool homemade “mailbox” for the class party or candy to go with his dollar store cards. To be honest, Valentine’s has joined a long list of holidays he decided long ago that he didn’t care about. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s… all the major ones, really, and a few of the smaller ones. Hard to celebrate Mother’s Day without a mom, after all.

This year is different, though, because Sam has a girlfriend. A gorgeous, sweet, perfect girlfriend who deserves all the good things in life and more. He wants to make his first Valentine’s Day with Jess special and amazing for her. Problem is, he has no clue where to start.

“Flowers,” Brady says without hesitation when Sam comes to him for advice. “Jess loves flowers.”

Sam is aware of that. Sunflowers are her favorite. He’s kissed the tattoo on her wrist enough times to remember. Of course she’s getting sunflowers.

“I dunno, man. Dinner? A big teddy bear? Girls love that shit.”

They do, Sam knows, and Jess has plenty of plush animals of her own but he doesn’t have the money for a giant teddy bear. Not if he wants to do flowers. Dinner, though, isn’t a bad idea. She cooks for him all the time. Sam’s not much of a cook himself - the many variations of boxed mac & cheese he and Dean have invented over the years don’t count - but he’s pretty sure he could follow a simple recipe. Maybe he could get the ingredients and they could cook together.

He looks up some recipes on a library computer and prints out one for pasta in vodka sauce. He’s got most of the ingredients in his kitchen, thanks to a shopping list Jess made for him the first time she tried to cook dinner at his shitty little apartment, and the rest he should be able to find at Walmart with no problem.

He still gets chocolate to go with the flowers, since he knows how much Jess adores chocolate. When he arrives at her apartment with flowers, chocolate, and ingredients in hand, though, he finds his heart is racing the way it did the first time John took him on a hunt. Jess is significantly less terrifying than a ghost but at the same time, this is the scariest thing he’s ever done.

Her little shriek of joy when she lays eyes on the flowers, though, soothes most of his anxiety.

“Sam, they’re beautiful,” she coos, sweeping the flowers into her arms and ushering him inside. The bouquet isn’t much, just a handful of sunflowers and some filler Sam couldn’t name if he tried, but her joy tells him the thought is just as important. “You remembered.”

How could he forget? Sam smiles and takes her in. She’s always beautiful but tonight she’s positively glowing, her blonde curls tumbling over her shoulders. She’s wearing pale blue, one of Sam’s favorite colors on her. The knee-length dress is a simple Grecian style with a high waist and a low v collar dipping down between her breasts, drawing his gaze down along with it. She leads him into the kitchen in search of a vase and he sets the bags on the counter to free up his hands to find the scissors to cut the stems for her.

Jess eyes the bags, peeking into the closest one. “What’s all this?”

His anxiety spikes again and he feels his cheeks warm as he looks down at the scissors in his hands. “I, um. I want to cook for you. Or with you. Whichever you prefer.”

She gapes at him for a moment, clearly not having expected this at all, and then lights up. “Oh, my god. You’re such a darling. That sounds wonderful.”

She kisses him then, holding the flowers out to one side so they won’t be crushed between their bodies, and Sam relaxes into the softness of her mouth. Kissing Jess has fast become one of his favorite activities.

--

Cooking with Jess is going to join kissing on the list of favorite activities, Sam decides later as he watches her expertly chop a few more cloves of garlic than the recipe actually calls for. She’d insisted on helping, probably to make sure he doesn’t burn the apartment down but he doesn’t mind. He has no idea how to chop garlic. He has no idea how to chop anything, actually, and she doesn’t really trust him with a knife in the kitchen, since he almost chopped his finger off early on in their relationship. He really can’t blame her for that.

Handling a knife in a fight and handling a knife in a kitchen? Two very different things.

“That’s a lot,” he observes as she scrapes the garlic, pulverized to an almost paste, off the cutting board and into a bowl.

“First lesson of cooking,” she says. “Measure garlic with your heart.”

She flips her curls out of her face with a toss of her head and flashes him a heart-stopping grin, and he wonders for the hundredth time since they met how he got so lucky.

The meal comes together quickly, once everything has been prepped. Jess calls it “mise en place” or “everything in its place.” From there it’s a simple matter of adding everything to the pot at the right time and in the right order. Jess lets Sam handle most of this part and his confidence grows with each careful step he follows, his beautiful girlfriend cheering him on with the recipe in hand. When finally he dishes the final product into two bowls, she rewards him with a kiss.

“Perfect,” she praises after her first bite. Her foot is hooked around his ankle under the tiny dining table.

Sam hesitantly takes his own first bite and is pleasantly surprised. The sauce is rich and creamy, with a sharp bite from the vodka that perfectly balances the sweet acidity of the tomatoes.

“Holy shit,” he says around his mouthful. Jess nods enthusiastically in agreement and Sam can’t help a grin.

“This is going to be a regular on the rotation,” she decides and Sam can’t argue with that.

After dinner, they wash the dishes together and the normality of it makes Sam’s heart soar. He loves doing even the most mundane of everyday tasks with her and the more he thinks about that, the more and more sure he is that she’s the one.

“All right,” Jess says once the last dish is put away. She plants her hands on her hips. “It’s time for your gift.”

“Jess, you didn’t have to-” he starts out of instinct but stops when she shakes her head.

“It’s kind of a gift for me, too.” She takes both his hands in hers and lifts her chin to kiss him lightly. “C’mon. To the bedroom.”

Sam’s heart races at the possibilities that come to mind with those three words. He eagerly follows Jess into her little bedroom and lets her sit him on the edge of the bed. She rummages in her closet and emerges with a red bag, white tissue paper blossoming out of the top. It’s the most nicely wrapped gift he’s ever received and he takes it with hesitant hands as she settles on the bed next to him. She looks nervous, tucking her bare feet up to sit cross-legged on the comforter.

“Go on,” she encourages and Sam pulls the paper from the bag.

He’s unsure what he’s looking at when he first pulls out the box. In his defense, he’s never seen one of these things in a box before.

“Holy shit,” he says when he realizes what it is. He immediately starts tearing into the box, sliding the plastic tray out and sending half the gift tumbling into his lap. He recognizes the harness. Jess has one exactly like it in her collection and it was Sam’s favorite of the ones he tried on early in their relationship. “Jess.”

The dildo seems huge in his hand, though he knows it’s probably about the same size as most of her average-sized toys. It’s definitely the most normal-looking one he’s seen, though, and that excites him as he realizes what this gift means.

“Jess,” he repeats. “Is this… for me?”

She nods, bouncing a little in her seat. “Yeah, I - you said you’ve always wanted one and I know you like that harness. I thought you’d probably prefer something that looks like a real dick. Is that…?” she’s suddenly hesitant, doubt creeping into her expression and Sam needs to kiss her.

He does just that, the strap-on and dildo tumbling off his lap onto the bed as he surges toward her. She gasps and then giggles, looping her arms around his shoulders.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” Sam asks, still stunned by this opportunity.

Jess hums in agreement, kissing him again, and then pulls away to pick up the toy. “Put that on, baby. I’ll go wash this.”

Sam’s body is singing with arousal, his boxers damp with it already when he shoves them down his thighs. He tosses his clothes in the hamper and thinks for a moment about how their clothes are muddled together like they share a space already. He thinks about a future where everything is mingled all the time and warmth blossoms in his chest at the possibilities his future holds now.

The current possibility, though, is really a certainty.

It takes Sam a minute to get the straps sorted out but he’s yet to tighten them around his thighs and ass when Jess returns with the clean toy in hand. She pauses in the doorway and his skin flushes with warmth under her hungry gaze.

“Fucking gorgeous,” she proclaims.

Sam’s blush deepens. He’s always felt so self-conscious about his body but Jess is so eager, so encouraging, and it’s been a surprisingly big boost to his confidence. Getting top surgery helped, even though it took almost a lifetime of saving every penny and some help from Jess to do so. His body feels more the way it should.

Jess waves the dildo at him. “Want a hand?”

Sam has no fucking clue how to put a dildo into a harness, so he nods. He’s not expected Jess to settle on her knees before him. His breath catches at the sight. She gazes up at him through her lashes as expert fingers slide the toy through the o-ring, making sure the snaps stay secure, and then she’s tugging the straps tight to hold it in place.

“How does that feel?” she asks, hands settling on his thighs just below the straps.

Sam shifts his hips, feeling the weight of the dildo, and adjusts the straps to get them into a better spot. “Good.” Really good. Looking down at his body to see a hard cock jutting out from his hips and his gorgeous girlfriend on her knees with her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips? Better than good. “Fuck, Jess.”

She grins and then she’s leaning forward to take the head of the cock - his cock - into her mouth.

Obviously, Sam can’t feel anything in the toy itself but the base is shaped to rub against his clit with every motion. Even without that stimulation, his body is thrumming with pleasure at the sight alone and he can’t stop a groan. Jess preens and takes the cock deeper. His hand instinctively finds her hair, cradling the back of her head, and her eyelashes flutter closed. That’s the encouragement he needs to take a little more control and guide her in the bobbing of her head. Jess has never been big on blowjobs, he knows - she’s a pussy girl all the way - but she’s moaning openly, and Sam’s leaking slick all over his inner thighs at the sound.

He needs to move this along.

“Jess,” he manages. “Jess, I need -”

She gets the message, pulling off with a gasp. “Yeah? How do you want me, big guy?”

Sam’s brain shuts down for a second at that. “... huh?”

Jess laughs and takes his hand to pull herself to her feet. “Missionary it is. This time.”

This time.

She leads him to the bed, stopping at the foot of it to pull Sam in for a kiss. Something about it resets Sam’s brain and he knows what to do from here. His arms sweep up over Jess’s shoulders, around the curve of her back to where the zipper of her dress waits. It goes down easily and then the dress is slipping from her shoulders, revealing first the perfect mounds of her breasts and then her lacy white underwear.

She’s the most beautiful woman Sam has ever laid eyes on and he wants - needs - to worship her.

Wordlessly, Sam lays Jess down in the center of the bed. It feels so right, taking charge like this and being the one to blanket his partner’s body with his own. The toy - his cock - bumps against her pelvis and she spreads her legs in response. Sam takes her in for a moment. Blonde curls haloing her head, sun-kissed skin from lying topless on her little balcony, long legs falling open around him to reveal the darkening patch in the pure white of her panties.

Sam ducks down to press a kiss above the waistband, smirking at her little gasp. He hooks his fingers under the elastic and slides them all the way off, over her pretty bare feet because of course every inch of Jess is pretty. They join his clothes in the hamper and then he’s returning to his spot between her thighs.

She opens with the slightest touch, allowing him to hook his arms under her legs and yanks her down onto his face. He doesn’t hold back and neither does she, openly whimpering and moaning as he works her over. She’s honey-sweet and musky and so soft under his tongue. The little strip of dark blonde hair she keeps carefully trimmed points right to her clit and Sam has always been good at reading maps.

Jess falls apart under his mouth and hands, shouting her pleasure to the ceiling, and he knows the neighbors can hear her but neither of them cares. The idea of a gag briefly crosses his mind, though, and he tucks it away for later. Maybe for his birthday. He makes her cum twice before she shoves his head away with shaking hands. He looks up to find her watching him over the heaving of her breasts, struggling to catch her breath.

“Fuck me,” she gasps at last.

Sam is more than happy to obey. He slides up her body to capture her mouth with his, giving her the taste of her pussy on his tongue. She sighs and hooks her legs around him, pressing his hips forward so his cock slides against the slick mess of her core.

“Fuck me,” she repeats and Sam isn’t going to make her ask again.

He sits up and she whines at the loss of contact but he has to see. He needs to watch his own hand curl around his cock, the way it slip-slides so easily through her dripping folds. Her pussy is flushed with arousal and parts easily for him when he presses inside. Sinks home, balls deep in one smooth motion of his hips.

“Sam,” she sighs. “Yes.”

And so he fucks her. He’s never done this before and it takes him a moment to find the right motion of his hips, the angle that makes her cling tighter to him. When he does, he focuses on repeating that pattern. He needs practice but something about it feels right, like he was made to be on this side of the equation as he curls over Jess and digs his teeth into the curve of her right breast. She cries out and one hand flies to his hair, keeping him in place as he sucks a bruise just north of her nipple.

They’re doing this again. In every position, every room. He needs to spread her out on the couch, bend her over the dining table, see her ride him on the kitchen floor. Maybe even out on the balcony for the neighbors to see if they’re home. He thinks of Jess draped over the railing, curls bouncing as he fucks her from behind, and his clit throbs where the toy presses against him.

“Jess,” he manages. “Jess, I -”

“Do it,” she says. “Do it, Sammy, wanna see -”

Sam groans and keeps fucking her, arms curled around her shoulders and elbows braced against the mattress to keep her from sliding up into the headboard. He presses his face into the curve of her neck and breathes in the scent of her. Sweet and floral, orange blossom and bergamot, made brighter where it’s mixing with the salty tang of her sweat, and that’s when it hits.

“Fuck.”

Sam’s breath leaves his lungs in a shout and then he’s lost, grinding in deep to get as much stimulation as possible while his orgasm washes over him. Jess’s heels dig into his ass, holding his hips to hers. Her hands are in his hair and her mouth at his temple when Sam finally relaxes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and she giggles.

“That was hot.”

Sam lifts his head to meet her gaze and grins. “Yeah?”

She kisses him and Sam grinds his hips where he’s buried to the hilt in her body. “Yeah,” she says against his mouth. “Yeah, that - keep doing that.”

Sam is more than happy to oblige, repeating the motion until Jess trembles in his arms, fingernails leaving marks in his shoulders like her grip on him is the only thing holding her together, and wails. Sam’s body flushes with heat and he could definitely cum again just like this, with her on his cock, but he knows she can’t handle another one. She’s down for the count, at least for a few minutes, and so he eases out of her.

“Oh, my god,” Jess says as her limbs fall limp on the bed. “Oh, my god, Sam.”

He laughs and lets his weight fall to the side instead of on top of her. He kisses her cheek. “Good?”

“Gimme a few and then I want to ride you.”

Very good, then. He nuzzles against her cheek and her hand comes up to cup his jaw. Tilting his head, he presses a kiss to the sunflower on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m all yours,” he says and he means it, one-hundred percent.

---

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

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#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #samjess #sam x jess #sam winchester/jessica moore

[samsexualdeancurious]

#weneedtotalkaboutsam

[samsexualdeancurious]

My Baby

Pairing: None

Words: 659

Summary: John wakes to find Dean is not in his bed.

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma and selective mutism, Weechesters (v wee. Sam is still a baby. This is early post-fire days)

Written for a discord friend and inspired by this video 

---

John wakes with moonlight streaming through a gap in the curtains, lighting the motel room up silver around the edges. His mouth tastes awful, probably thanks to the drinks he had before bed, and he groans as he shoves the blankets off. The carpet is rough under his bare feet as he stumbles to the bathroom and flips on the light. He unwraps a plastic cup, fills it from the faucet, and chugs it before he glances around the motel room.

Dean isn’t in his bed.

Panic surges through him at the realization. “Dean,” he calls, pitching his voice lower so he doesn’t bother the neighbors. The red numbers on the alarm clock read 3:42 AM and a noise complaint is the last thing he needs. “Dean.”

The blankets on Dean’s bed are rumpled but the boy is nowhere in sight. John finds himself frozen in the bathroom doorway, unsure what to do or where to even start looking right up until the moment his eyes land on the ancient crib the motel manager dragged out of storage for him.

John crosses the room in two desperate strides and his knees almost buckle in relief when he sees his eldest son curled loosely around his youngest. He should have known. Dean has been extra clingy of Sam since the fire and that’s extending to sleeping in the crib. He used to insist on just getting into the crib with Sam at bedtime but John’s been trying to encourage him to sleep in his own bed. Clearly, it’s not working.

God, he wishes Mary were here. She would know what to do.

“Dean,” John sighs as he reaches out to gently rub the boy’s back. “Dean.”

He stirs, making a grumpy sound, and long lashes flutter open. Before the fire, he might have said something like “Daddy?” but now, he’s silent and it breaks John’s heart.

“Hey, buddy. Time to go back to your bed.”

Dean’s brow furrows and he shakes his head. “Uh-uh.”

John frowns and says, firmer than before, “Dean. C’mon. Back to bed.”

Slender arms tighten their grip on Sam’s chubby little body. He’s shaking his head almost frantically now.

“Dean.”

The minute his hands curl around Dean’s little shoulders, the older boy tenses his whole body and shrieks.

“My baby! My baby!”

John’s breath catches in his throat and he jerks back on instinct before one hand flies up to gently but firmly cover Dean’s mouth. They both sit there in silence for a long few heartbeats as Sam stirs and then settles once more. John’s mind is racing as he processes that Dean just spoke. For the first time in months, Dean spoke.

“My baby,” Dean repeats when John pulls his hand away from his mouth, thankfully much quieter this time.

“Your baby brother,” John murmurs in response and the side of the crib creaks when he leans against it. “Yeah.”

Dean nods, like they’ve come to some kind of agreement. He kisses the top of Sam’s little fuzzy head.

John scrubs a hand over his face and glances at the clock. 3:56 AM. It’s too fucking late - early? Whatever - to be dealing with this and honestly, isn’t Dean talking again a good thing? If Sam’s what gets Dean to talk, well. John really can’t complain.

“Your baby,” he repeats, more to himself than to Dean. He ruffles his oldest son’s hair. “Ok. Go back to sleep, buddy.”

Dean doesn’t respond, already closing his eyes and snuggling in close to his brother. John steps back from the crib and staggers the few steps to his bed. As he sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, he finds himself once again wishing that Mary were here. She would know what to do. John’s just making this all up as he goes along and maybe letting Dean sleep with Sam is the wrong choice but really? What options does he have?

My baby.

Goddammit.

---

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction