#Supernatural x Male!Reader

[thealtoduck]

My Jolly Sailor Bold

Sam Winchester x Male Reader

Content: Old Timey Sailor AU? (Idk what to call it)

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Sam, age gap reader is 18 and Sam is 25, loss of virginity, anal sex, unprotected sex, fingering, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: During a walk you meet eyes with a handsome sailor and there is an instant connection…

(A/n: Honestly i’ve only seen like 6 episodes of Supernatural… like 2 years ago, so Sam might be very out of character… just so you know)

——

Your father was a merchant, a merchant who traveled and transported all sorts of goods across the sea to sell and bring home the money to his family. He had taken three of his sons to act as part of the crew of his ship only leaving the 2nd oldest and the youngest sons behind in their hometown.

He left Remus, the second oldest, in charge to take care of business and to care for his wife/Remus mother and the youngest son. And the youngest son is you Y/n L/n…

One summers morning you were walking through the shipping port, you had just seen off your father and your older brothers, they were going on another voyage on the dangerous ocean. Your mother had been crying seeing them leave again, as soon as they boarded she had gotten down on her knees praying for their safe return.

Your older brother Remus decided to escort her home, so he could comfort her over a cup of tea and some biscuits. But you wanted to see the ship leave port and decided to stay a bit longer.

As you walked you watched the different people, some were saying goodbye to loved ones as they were about board the ships, others were unloading the wares from far off places and even some kids just looking for a good spot to fish.

Then your eyes fell on a man, presumably a sailor, he had a very handsome face, he was looking out to the sea. The sailor’s attention had drifted from the sea… and on to you. Your eyes met his as you walked past and it felt as if your heart was pierced by cupid himself when he looked at you. You felt you would get odd glances by the crowds if you continued looking at each other for too long, so you broke eye contact and kept walking.

Once you reached the edge of the pier you sat down on the edge, legs hanging over the water. A while later you saw your father’s ship drift out of port slowly. But you noticed something, the sailor you had seen before was standing portside gazing longingly back at the dock.

Back at you…

You smiled at him, he smiled back.

You waved at him, he waved back.

Then another crew member seemed to call him over, he gave you one last smile and wave and then he turned around and left. And you watched as the ship traveled in to the distance before you left and went home.

A month later…

Your father’s ship should be returning today, so you, Remus and your mother once again traveled down to the port to greet your father and three brothers.

Though you weren’t only there for your father and brothers, their return would mean the unknown sailor would be returning along with them. Which meant you could finally meet him. The smile of the sailor had lingered in your head through the month there was something special about him.

Once you were at the pier you could see the merchant’s ship was approaching. As soon it had docked the gangway was lowered and the crew rushed off the ship to reunite with their loved ones.

Your father and three brothers stepped over the gangway together and greeted you, Remus and your mother lovingly. Your brothers immediately started telling you stories about the journey. But it was hard to keep up because all 3 of them were telling different stories at the same time.

Your father interrupted them saying ”Boys, boys, calm down there’s plenty of time for stories later”. He then turned to you, your mother and Remus and said ”First things first, we’ll have a guest for a couple of days, one of the sailors, he has no family or wife to go home to and i felt bad for the man, so i thought he could stay with us for a couple of days for some company”.

”See now where is he?” your father questioned looking around. ”Oh, there he is. Sam! Over here!” he called over the man. When you saw the sailor coming over it felt as if your breath was knocked out of your body.

It was the handsome sailor you had waved to when they left. He stopped in front of your family with a shy smile. ”This is Sam Winchester”. Your father introduced him first to your mother, then to Remus and lastly you.

”And this Sam, is my youngest son, Y/n” he introduced. You and Sam shook hands and you said ”It’s nice to meet you Mr Winchester”. ”Please, just Sam” he said with a nice smile. The eight of you then traveled back to your family home.

You spent the whole day listening to the never ending stories of your brothers adventures on the voyage. And it became a blessing when it was finally bedtime and you could finally escape them.

Though you couldn’t fall asleep that evening, it was just impossible. Your bed was either too warm or too cold, too soft or too hard, there was just no way to feel comfortable. You decided to get up and get a cup of tea and maybe read a bit.

Though when you walked down stairs in to the sitting room you were suprised to see Sam was up reading a book in candlelight. Sam looked towards you and said ”Oh sorry Y/n, did i wake you?”.

”No, don’t worry about it, i just couldn’t sleep” you explained and then questioned ”How about you?”. ”Couldn’t sleep either” he answered simply with a small smile. ”Would you like some tea?” you asked. ”I’d love some” Sam said.

You went in to the kitchen and lit some more candles for light and then started making some tea. You went back in the sitting room with a tea tray and sat down on the couch beside him.

You tried to think of conversation topics but Sam spoke up first saying ”You know, i remember you from the day the ship left, you were the only one who really saw me off and i wanted to thank you, it meant a lot, it kept me going on the raging sea as if i had someone to come back too”.

You smiled brightly at him. ”That means a lot to hear, i actually thought a lot about you, you seemed so mysterious… so i wondered who you were, what your name was and if i’d ever see you again” you told him, a warm look forming on his face.

”What were you reading?” you then asked looking at the book Sam had been reading. Sam looked at the book and said ”It’s an old tale about a sailor and what he sees during his travels, and at one point he believes he sees people of the sea, mermaids and mermen, he describes them as beautiful and graceful, pure of the sins of man and who’s echoing voices sounds like touching the softest silk”.

”In fact everytime i pictured them all i saw was you waving from that dock, from the way they’re described all i could see was your face” Sam revealed looking deeply in to your eyes. You were at a loss of words. Sam then caught himself saying ”Sorry, got a little-” he tried but you cut him off saying curiously ”Read me a passage, about the sea people”.

Sam smiled picking up the book, flipping a couple pages and read to you ”While passing the foreign lands, sitting on a rock close to the shore sat a young man of otherworldly beauty, the man was bare, his wet skin glistening in the sun. There was an ethereal esscense to him as he waved politely towards me”.

Sam moved closer to you as he countinued reading ”The man looked carefree and untouched by the sins of men, he was glowing as if he was untainted, sent from heaven. It made me want to get closer and touch him, to feel if his skin felt the same as mine, to feel his body pressed to mine to see if he remains as immaculate as when i first saw him”.

Sam finished and looked up from the book at you, meeting your gaze. He had put the book aside and put his hand on the side of your face, stroking it softly. ”That was beautiful” you said in an amazed whisper. ”I know, I was the one who wrote it… I wrote it about you” Sam said and pushed his lips to yours.

You had never been kissed before but Sam’s soft lips guided you. He took your hand in his squeezing it lightly. He then pulled away from the kiss saying ”Come with me” and he started leading you towards the guest room. He lead you inside and closed the door behind the two of you.

He then pulled you back in to a kiss, his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him, your clothed bodies pressed together. Sam led you to the bed making you sit down on it. ”Have you ever done something like this?” he asked in a kind tone.

You shook your head shyly. ”Do you want me to show you?” he asked, his hand lifting you chin ever so slightly. ”Yes” you told him. He then made you stand up again and started slowly undressing you.

You felt aroused as Sam lastly pulled off your night shirt leaving you naked in front of him. He looked you up and down as he stroked your hip trailing his fingers over your soft skin. ”You’re heavenly” he said feeling your body in his hands.

He then started undressing himself until he was fully unclothed too. ”Touch me” Sam instructed and guided your hand to his chiseled chest. You stroked his chest down to his to his belly button. He then took you hand and led it even lower, putting your hand on his manhood.

He squeezed his hand around yours making you stroke his manhood. ”Feel that, that’s what you do to me” he told you. He then led you back to the bed and made you lay down softly on your back and then layed down next to you and once kissing you.

He pulled back from you’re lips. ”You’re so pure, it makes me want to shelter you from all the evils of the world… but it also makes me want to be the one to stain your innocence and make you mine” he said letting his hands drift down to your crotch. His fingers grazing against your length making you let out soft excited moans.

”Make me yours” you told him as you took his hand and pressed it against your crotch. Sam gave you a light smile and moved from your side to towards the foot of the bed, he grabbed your ankles and parted them, speading your legs.

He then moved himself inbetween them, he leaned towards you and said ”Open your mouth”. You did as told and Sam put his middle and index finger in your mouth making you suck on them.

He then pulled them out and brought them to your untouched enterance trailing over it lightly. He then asked ”Ready?”, you nodded. Then you felt the strange feeling as his wet index finger started pushing in to you.

You gasped at the new feeling as he used his finger to pentrate you. It hurt a bit at first as he pushed in but then you started adjusting to him. Soon enough Sam pushed in his middle finger, streching you out even more, as that pain soon turned to pleasure Sam pulled out his fingers.

He then spit in his hand rubbed it over his manhood. Sam once more held your legs spread as he lined himself up with your enterance. He whispered gently ”Ready sweetheart?”. ”Yes” you answered and Sam slowly started pushing himself in to your tight virgin hole.

You threw your head back as you felt his thick length enter you, Sam covered your mouth as to not wake up your parents and have them find him deflowering their youngest son. ”Fuck” Sam swore as he felt your hole clench around his cock as it slowly sunk in to you.

Sam continued pushing all the way until his manhood was planted in you. ”You’re doing so well” Sam praised as he watched you breath deeply as you slowly adjusted to his size. Soon he noticed your pain was turning in to bliss. ”Sam” you moaned deeply.

Once your pained features had turned to ones pleasure Sam slowly started rolling his hips carefully, pushing his length in and out of you as gently as he could. Your arms were wrapped Sam’s back as the foreign sensation of his cock made you uncontrollably moan.

Sam placed kisses along your collarbone as his cock was kneaded by your warmth. ”You’re so beautiful” Sam told the virgin boy beneath him as he watched him be defiled by his manhood, it was a once in a lifetime sight.

Sweat started forming between the two of you and to Sam you looked just like described in his book, your damp skin really was glistening from the moonlight that entered the room. Sam started rolling his hips faster making you wrap your legs around his body.

The two of you had become a wet tangeled mess as Sam thrusted gently in to your ass giving you a sense of euphoria as he hit your prostate, giving you a feeling you could only ever dream off.

”Sam” you moaned as you felt a sudden new feeling as if you were about to erupt. Then your hard cock started shooting cum all over yours and Sam’s abdomens. This made Sam go feral and he shoved his face in the crook of your neck, planting deep kisses as he moaned.

His thrusts became rougher as he searched for his own release while saying animalistically ”I’m gonna fill you with my cum”. And with a last roll of his hip, his cock pushed deep inside you, he burst, filling you up with his seed. He then slowly pulled out of you, sitting on his kness between your legs.

He looked down on the beautiful young man he had deflowered, leaving him leaking with his load. Sam felt proud of himself. He laid down next to you with a gentle smile and said ”You were amazing” and planted a kiss on your lips.

You were close to falling asleep as you were all tuckered out from the experinence. Sam went and got up and got a rag to clean you up with, once he finished he helped you back in to your sleep wear. Then he carried you to your room putting you in bed saying ”Goodnight, beautiful” kissing your cheek one last time before you fell asleep.

Sam went back down to the sitting room and got his book, taking it back to the guest room placing it on the writing table, the next day he would write another chapter in it.

#sam winchester x male reader #sam winchester x male!reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x male!reader #sam winchester x male reader smut #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #x male reader smut

[supernaturalscribe67]

Favors

Words: 6,851

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader

Warning(s): Language, SMUT (18+), Rimming, Teasing, Male on Male penetration, brief orgasm denial, Bottom!Reader, Top!Crowley

Summary: (Y/N) is a well-known researcher and hacker in the hunting industry, dedicating his life to protecting innocent people all around the United States. What happens when the King of Hell comes to him with a problem he needs help solving and a deal that (Y/N) cannot turn down?

Request:

Hope you are having a good day/night

Omg I absolutely love the Crowley x older Winchester brother reader fic you did for me

I was wondering if I could request Crowley x Male reader smut

@xweirdo101x

A/N: I haven't written smut in so long, I hope you like it! Plus, this is my first time writing male/male smut, so feedback is really appreciated! MINORS DNI!!!!! Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

It was beautiful that morning. Light barely shone over the treeline, the warm colors faintly casting a reflection across the lake that sat outside of the small house. The ground was littered with red, orange, and yellow leaves, decorating it like some cheesy floor pattern on a Welcome Mat. The wind whipped through the branches, conducting the trees in a synchronized dance. Morning Doves sang their harmonious tune. 

It was 8:30 AM. (Y/N) sat peacefully in the rocking chair that was nestled in the corner of the aged porch. A blanket draped over his lap, and a warm cup of steaming coffee in his grasp. It was mornings like that that gave him a sense of serenity, that reminded him of the world outside of his profession. That was why, in the mornings, he had one rule. One simple rule; 

No phone calls before nine. 

Granted, lives were at stake. Hunters all across the United States were taking on various jobs as he sat there, and some needed information quicker than others. He made an exception to the rule in case of an emergency, but nothing more. Most of his life was consumed with research and phone calls while he sat in a stuffy room near the back of the house. He knew that, when his reputation in the hunting community became well-known, he would need to set some rules and boundaries to allow himself some personal time. Some time to relax and reflect. 

Not everyone followed those rules, however. 

A buzz from his phone sounded next to him. It sat on a small, rusted round table next to the rocking chair. (Y/N)’s gaze turned towards the phone as it shifted with each violent vibration across the metal. He could feel the vibrating under his feet against the wood. Across the screen, Sam Winchester was written. A heavy, yet somehow content, sigh escaped past his lips as he reached over and picked up his phone. A part of him said that he should ignore it, but the other was telling him that it could be urgent. The Winchesters rarely got in contact with him before noon. 

“Hello?” He answered, his voice deep and calm. 

“Hey, (Y/N)! Dean and I were wondering if you could look something up for us?” Sam’s voice rang through the receiver, a little too cheery first thing in the morning, in (Y/N)’s opinion. They must have been up for hours by then. 

“Is the information urgent?” 

There was a long pause. “Well…”

“Mr. Winchester, what is my rule?” 

Another long pause. “No phone calls before nine.”

“Exactly, unless there was someone actively dying and we were under a time constraint. Are we on a time constraint, Mr. Winchester?” 

“Please, call me Sam.” 

“Are we on a time constraint, Sam?” 

Pause. “No. We just wanted to get whatever information we could before we headed to the police station to talk to the officers.”

“You and I both know you’re going to gather even more evidence about the case after the fact, so I think it would be wise to just go ahead and make your way to the police station. They might answer some of your questions, they might not. Hell, you might have even more questions for me by the time you’re done.” 

“You’re right, you’re right. Uh…I guess I’ll…give you a call back when we’re done.”

“After nine, of course.” (Y/N) nodded slowly. 

“Right. After nine,” 

“Thank you, Sam. You know, I always love talking to you. You’re easier to communicate with than your brother.” 

Sam chuckled deeply. “Thanks, I get that a lot,”

“Well, it’s true. Anyway, go talk to the police, and then let me know of anything you might need, alright?” 

“Alright, bye,”

“Bye,” (Y/N) ended the phone call and replaced the phone in its original position. 

He brought the cup of coffee up to his face, blowing cool air onto the surface. Steam curled around the mug as he took a sip. There were some people he didn’t mind receiving phone calls from in the morning, during his off hours. Sam Winchester was one of them. Always so polite when he had to remind him, he almost didn’t mind having to repeat himself over and over again. He knew how stressful the physical aspect of the hunting life could be, but Sam was one who never let his anger appear evident when they conversed that early in the morning. His brother, on the other hand, seemed to hold all of the anger for both brothers on his sleeve. (Y/N) had many unpleasant conversations with the older Winchester, but he also had some satisfying ones. In the end, he didn’t mind working with the Winchesters. They were the ones that called him the most. They were the ones who kept him busy and were appreciative when he was able to give them the information that they were in search of. That much he was grateful for. 

“Hello, darling,” a scratchy, baritone voice broke the placid silence. 

(Y/N) showed no physical reaction, yet he felt as if his heart had lept into his throat. It raced rapidly and he felt the familiar sensation of gooseflesh appear on his arms. He couldn’t necessarily blame it on the cool breeze. In front of him, Crowley stood, hands deep in the pockets of his black peacoat. A smirk was placed on his lips, covered by the beard that had grown out since the last time (Y/N) saw him. 

He had met Crowley some years ago through the Winchesters. It was then he had gotten his first taste of the types of connections Sam and Dean had. When they originally told him about one of their contacts being the King of Hell, he was rather skeptical at first. Rumors travel fast in the hunting world, and (Y/N) knew all of them, especially the ones that star Sam and Dean Winchester. Yet, when he had initially met Crowley, he was pleasantly surprised. He never expected an individual with a clean, lavish appearance as he. He never expected the accent either. It had shocked him at first, but not negatively. In a way, he had always assumed that the King of Hell was going to be some grotesque monster that would seem as if they dwelled deep in a humid cave. He could blame that on his ignorance. 

Since then, the handful of times he had interactions with the King of Hell, he would not say they had been horrible. Quite the opposite, they had been fairly pleasant. Crowley was cordial towards him, speaking to him in, what (Y/N) had first assumed was, a respectful tone, but later concluded that it would be more accurate to call it professional. Crowley was charismatic, a businessman. He knew how to get what he wanted out of people, and (Y/N) could see why they fell for it each time. Crowley knew exactly what to say and when to say it. That accent of his could put anyone in a trance. 

(Y/N) sat the cup of coffee down on the side table beside his phone before he placed both of his hands in his lap, his fingers folded over one another. “Good morning, Crowley. How…unexpected of you to pop in this early in the morning.” 

“Quite,” Crowley paused as he looked around, studying his environment. “I must say, I never expected a man such as yourself to own a place with such beauty.” 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. “While I appreciate the backhanded compliment, I am currently off the clock. That is if you needed anything in the first place and didn’t just stop by for some idle chit-chat.” 

“I never ‘chit-chat’. I did come by to ask for your…assistance with something.” 

“As I have said, I am off the clock. If you need my help with anything, you can come back at nine o’clock.” 

A smirk appeared in the corner of Crowley’s mouth. “Check the time, darling,” 

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted over to his phone. Hesitantly, he reached over and clicked the screen, illuminating his background of deep purples and blues. 

9:01 A.M.

As he looked back over at Crowley, he noted that the smirk was still there. Crowley shrugged, the ruffle of fabric filling the silence. 

“It’s time to clock back in.” 

(Y/N let out a sigh as he slapped his hands onto his knees, standing from his seat. He caught the blanket before it was able to fall off and folded it thrice. He then turned and laid it over the back of the rocker. He placed his phone into his pocket, then grabbed his coffee mug, the steam having dissipated since Crowley had arrived. 

“Let’s head to my study, then,” he mumbled. 

He walked past Crowley towards the screen porch door. Before he had the chance to grab it, Crowley opened it for him, startling (Y/N) for a moment. (Y/N) nodded his head. 

“Such a gentleman.” He murmured and walked into the house, Crowley following soon after. 

The foyer was small but tidy, so it seemed bigger than it was. The new floors glimmered in the morning light, and the walls were decorated with various pieces of artwork. (Y/N) took pride in renovating the older house, making it a place he was happy to call his home. 

When he had found the house for sale, he was surprised, initially, by how little it cost. Seeing the state upon purchase made him understand the drop in price almost immediately. It took several months for him to turn the once run-down house into a livable place, one where he wasn’t afraid of catching asbestos poisoning every night. Since he completed the remodeling, he has made sure that the house is well-decorated, comfortable, and clean. 

To the right of the foyer was the entryway into the kitchen. It wasn’t that large, but with one person occupying the house, he found it unnecessary to include more counter space in the renovation. To the left was the living room, well-lit with natural light in the morning and even brighter with the overhead ceiling fan at night, comfortable enough to seat many different people if he ever decided to have guests over to mingle. Ahead of Crowley and (Y/N), down the hallway, sat three doors, all of them ajar. Directly ahead was his bedroom, to the left was the guest bathroom, and to the right was his study, the one place where (Y/N) found he was spending most of his time throughout the twenty-four hours of the day. 

(Y/N) kicked off his slides, placing them next to the front door, before replacing them with a pair of slippers. He then gestured down the hallway with his head. 

“This way,” he said as he began to walk down the hallway. 

The study was a masterpiece in it of itself. The walls directly beside the door and adjacent were lined with built-in bookshelves, courtesy of (Y/N) himself. On the shelves sat various centuries' worth of lore, categorized by decade, topic, and alphabetized by the last name of the author, if the author was known, that is. On the other wall sat large windows lined side-by-side, the curtains pulled back to allow sunlight in. Sitting at an angle in the middle of the floor was a heavy mahogany desk, similar to one that would be found in a lawyer’s or politician’s office. A rolling desk chair sat behind it, something cheap yet comfortable. On top of the desk were different books that were opened to certain pages that (Y/N) had left off on, a notebook with a ballpoint pen, an LED keyboard with a matching Bluetooth mouse, and a large, curved monitor with two smaller monitors on either side. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, a place where hunters had sat multiple times when visiting and discussing business with him. 

(Y/N) rounded the corner of the desk and sat down in the office chair, the cup still grasped between his hands. He took another sip of his coffee as he scanned over the cluttered surface of his desk. As he moved books out of the way, his tongue poked into his cheek. Finally, with a triumphant ‘ah’, he pulled the brown coaster from underneath one of the book spines. He placed his mug on top of it, bent down, and turned on his computer. 

“Alright, if you want to have a seat,” (Y/N) gestured to the chair. 

“I prefer to stand.” 

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and typed his passcode rapidly into his keyboard. 

The three monitors lit up with work he had been focused on the day before. Carefully, he saved documents and exited out of files. When the files were all tucked away and his screens were cleared, he turned his attention back to Crowley. 

“Now, what is this problem you’re having? And, please be quick about it, I have some hunters that are going to be calling me back to gather information for them as well.” 

“The Winchesters can wait,” Crowley said as he stalked forward. 

(Y/N) fought back the urge to ask how Crowley had known the Winchesters were the ones to call, for he knew the answer already. 

“Now, I seem to be having a bit of a rogue demon problem.” Crowley began to pace around the room, his eyes seeming to study the different texts that lined the walls and the scenery outside. 

“Don’t we all?” 

“Mine’s a little different.” 

“How so?” 

“You see, I control the demons, right? Specifically, I control the deals that come in when humans summon us to the crossroads. I expect demons to persuade these people in some way to get these deals by possessing family members, friends, and the like, while others are sent when they are summoned to take these deals. It’s a rather layered process, too many demons, too many steps, but it works.” 

“I see,” (Y/N) hummed as he folded his hands on top of the desk, back slouched. 

“Recently, however, it has come to my attention that there have been several demons who don’t necessarily, well, like me.” 

“I can’t imagine why,” (Y/N) mumbled, his words dripping with sarcasm. 

Crowley ignored him. “And I’ve found out by a rather reliable source that a handful of demons have been rebelling against me. Some are just not persuading people as they are supposed to and running rampant in the street while others, the ones who are summoned, are taking these individuals' souls without giving anything in return. They mess with the deal.” 

“Do you not see that as a win in your situation? You get their soul no matter what, Crowley.” 

“Ah, you see, I do, but I am a man of my word.” He stopped and placed his hand on his chest. “When deals are made, they are not meant to be broken. They are taking their souls and sending them right back to the pathetic life that they came to fix. I don’t like humans as much as the next demon, but a deal is a deal, and it should not be messed with.”

“How…noble? What does this exactly have to do with me?” 

Crowley reached into his peacoat, pulling out a sheet of folded white paper. He walked over and placed it on (Y/N)’s desk. On it was a list of locations and dates neatly written in calligraphy. Most of the locations were paired with a date from a couple of days ago, some a couple of weeks, and some were marked from that very day.

“This is a list of all known demon locations and times that they were last seen there. The crossroads demons I can deal with on my own, they will be harder for someone like you to find, but these are the demons that were supposed to be possessing family members and the such. They’re lower-ranked demons than others, so they lack the necessary powers to teleport, makes them easier to find.” 

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” He gestured to the paper with his hands. 

“Find the demons on that computer of yours, tell me where they are, and I will take care of the rest.” 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. There had been many instances where he had been able to find the location of a monster for different hunters by hacking into various CCTV cameras across the country. Some places had more cybersecurity than others, but overall, it was a simple task, something he had picked up the first month or so after he started learning the art of hacking and coding. It wouldn’t take that long for him to track some of the demons. 

“Why should I help you?” 

“Think of it this way, darling,” Crowley walked over, stood behind the desk chair, and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

The violent buzzing interrupted anything Crowley was going to say. (Y/N)’s legs vibrated in time with the buzzes. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. Sam Winchester flashed across the screen. He held up a finger to Crowley. 

“Hold on, I have to take this,” he said. 

Just before he was able to accept the call, however, Crowley snatched the phone from his hand. 

“Hey!” 

“Ah ah ah,” Crowley tsked and wagged a finger. “We are in the middle of a deal.” He ended the call and placed the phone in his pocket. 

(Y/N) clenched his jaw. He held out his hand. “Give it back, Crowley.” 

“Not until we finished our deal, darling,” 

“I never said we had a deal.” 

“Then it appears you’re not going to be getting your phone back.” 

“Crowley,” he growled. 

Crowley chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling. “So tense,” he smirked. “It must be hard. Being out here all by yourself. No ring on your finger, which means that you haven’t got a wife or husband. I’m guessing you don’t have a partner either, considering all you do is sit here and help other hunters.” Crowley slowly ran a finger over (Y/N)’s shoulder blades, eliciting a shiver from him. “How about this deal, then,” Crowley leaned down, his face merely inches from (Y/N)’s. “I get rid of some of your tension and you find the demons for me, deal?” 

Crowley’s breath was hot against (Y/N)’s face. The closeness caused his stomach to churn. (Y/N) wouldn’t deny that Crowley was an attractive man - demon, he corrected himself. He had thought so since the first time they met, yet he knew the dangers of getting involved with demons. That was why a small part of him was weary of the Winchesters, seeing how easily they got along with the King of Hell. ‘Got Along’ wasn’t necessarily as accurate as ‘tolerated’. He corrected himself again. When Crowley spoke with that accent, and when his voice was deep and gravelly, it was almost as if (Y/N) was hypnotized. 

That accent of his could put anyone in a trance.

“Crowley,” he breathed, unaware that his heart had begun to beat faster. 

“The demons get killed, I get what I want, and I leave you more satisfied than you have ever been before,” Crowley’s hand slowly moved up and began to trace along (Y/N)’s jawline. His fingers stopped when he got to (Y/N)’s chin. He tilted his head up so that they were looking into each other’s eyes, their noses brushing against one another. “Have we got a deal?” 

Crowley’s eyes were just as hypnotic as his voice. It was as if (Y/N) was staring into an iced glass of whiskey. It was hard to believe that, behind those eyes, stood a dark entity who controlled the deepest, darkest depths of Hell. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him, telling him that it was a bad idea, that he should retreat and reject the offer. 

(Y/N) was completely mesmerized. 

“Yes,” he whispered faintly. 

The corner of Crowley’s lips curled upward. “Then let’s kiss on it.” 

(Y/N) didn’t have a chance to respond before Crowley’s lips were on his. 

It was heated, hungry, and (Y/N) was slightly ashamed to admit that it had taken his breath away. Ashamed to admit just how engrossed in Crowley’s charismatic attitude he had been. Swiftly, (Y/N) stood from his chair and he was pressed against the desk in an instant. Crowley’s hands worked their way underneath (Y/N)’s t-shirt. It wasn’t long before Crowley’s coat and (Y/N)’s shirt were on the floor. As Crowley reached behind him to grab at the backs of his thighs, (Y/N) pressed his hands firmly on his chest. 

“Not here, not here,” he pulled back from his lips, panting from the lack of oxygen. “Let’s go to my room.” 

Crowley smirked and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Lead the way, darling,” he pulled back. 

(Y/N) was quick to pull himself away from the desk and turn to walk out of the room. His strides were long and silent, almost as if he was floating out of the room and towards his bedroom. Crowley followed behind him, moving just as fast if not a little bit faster. He tore off his tie and dropped it onto the floor as they entered the room. Their lips slammed into one another once more as they fell back onto the bed unceremoniously, their bodies bouncing. 

(Y/N) was incredibly hard, he felt like a teenager on prom night. He tried to think back and remember the last time he had sex. Had it been two, maybe three weeks? Months. No. Two or three years, it had been. He had lost count. Crowley had been right, he had been so absorbed in his work that he had neglected the wants he never knew he had. The needs. He had found himself to be so uptight as of late that the lack of sex hadn’t been something he considered a factor with such a change of mood. Maybe the sex was just what he needed. It seemed that Crowley knew more about him than he realized. 

(Y/N)’s primary goal was getting Crowley’s clothes off. He wanted to see him, wanted to take in every inch of him. Before he was able to grab at Crowley’s belt, however, Crowley pulled back and lifted a hand to stop him. Again, (Y/N) was breathless. He stopped and looked up at him with a questioning gaze. 

“Let’s skip the stripping, shall we?” His voice had gotten deeper, darker. His voice alone should have sent the sirens blaring and the red flags waving in (Y/N)’s head, telling him to stop, telling him that it was a bad idea, but all it did was deepen the lust and make his cock twitch in his boxers. 

With the snap of his fingers, their clothes had vanished. Immediately, (Y/N) noticed the temperature change, causing his nipples to harden into stiff peaks. He wasn’t worried about his own body, however. His attention was all on Crowley. 

He took his time to examine his lover. His eyes trailed. He noted the hair that was meticulously placed over his pecs, the curve of his stomach. Crowley didn’t have a six-pack, but he was nowhere near fat. A slight pudge was probably the best adjective to use. He spotted the tattoos almost instantly, something that came as a surprise to him but wasn’t unappreciated. Crowley’s happy trail started right below his belly button and trailed down to his pelvis, and the mere sight of Crowley’s cock made (Y/N)’s eyes go wide. 

Crowley was huge. 

Bigger than he had ever seen on a lover before. 

To say he was surprised was a massive understatement. He never expected Crowley to be sporting a cock of that size. (Y/N) felt inept next to him. Yet, despite his unbelievable length, (Y/N) felt his mouth water and cock twitch at the thought of it being inside of him. Crowley chuckled. 

“Like what you see?” He questioned. 

“Yes,” (Y/N) breathed, although he knew the question was rhetorical. 

Crowley’s chest rumbled as he leaned down and began to leave kisses down (Y/N)’s neck, down towards the valley of his pecs. He stopped at his nipples, giving each of them attention with small licks and a suckle. A gasp fell from (Y/N)’s lips as his hands occupied themselves with exploring Crowley’s body. (Y/N)’s mind was fogged over, the feeling of being that close to someone already so intense. He really did feel like a teenager. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” Crowley purred as his lips traveled further down his body, ghosting over his stomach. “Almost disappoints me that I’m going to leave you a whimpering mess by the time I’m done.” 

“Crowley, please,” 

“Begging already, I see.” 

Crowley’s lips moved down until they reached (Y/N)’s own happy trail. Just before he reached (Y/N)’s cock, he pulled back, earning a disappointed groan from the man below. The smirk on his face told (Y/N) that Crowley loved the effect that he was having on him. That it was boosting his ego, and if he had been in the right state of mind, he would have stopped right there. The King of Hell didn’t need more of a complex than he already had. 

“Spread your legs for me.” 

(Y/N) complied, legs parting as Crowley moved onto his stomach. He left kisses on (Y/N)’s inner thighs. 

“Have you had anything in this pretty little hole recently?” Crowley asked. 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to open you up, won’t I? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

It was an oddly sweet sentiment, coming from a demon. Something that a part of (Y/N) didn’t really expect. Yet the other part of him told him that it made sense with Crowley’s character. He was a businessman. He made deals and he kept them. He wanted him to feel good, and (Y/N) wouldn’t be satisfied with his part of the deal if he was in pain. 

“I have lube in my nightstand,” (Y/N) spoke up. He could feel Crowley’s hot breath hovering over his exposed hole. 

“I’ll get to it, darling,” 

Crowley’s tongue lapped at his hole, and (Y/N) swore that he would come from that single lick. He couldn’t hold back the moan as Crowley’s tongue worked around the pink muscle, almost teasing it. The tip of his tongue slipped past the ring for a moment before retreating. Crowley’s arms wrapped around both of his thighs and seemed to pull him closer with godly strength. Then, when he was closer, Crowley’s wet tongue finally slipped past the tight muscle and wiggled its way into his hole. 

A deep moan escaped past (Y/N)’s lips as one of his hands shot down and gripped Crowley’s hair. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, thankful for the pillow that was underneath him, thankful that he had decided to move to the bedroom instead of the study. He had concluded that the lack of sex didn’t make him feel like a teenager again, he was a teenager. Rather, it seemed he had a teenager’s lack of control. His cock was twitching, begging to be touched, begging for Crowley to wrap his hand around it and stroke. (Y/N) was too lost in pleasure to do it on his own, and it was just foreplay. Crowley was only preparing him for what was yet to come. If Crowley had him seeing stars already, he knew that Crowley’s prediction of him turning into a ‘whimpering mess’ would be accurate. 

Crowley’s tongue was skilled. He reached places inside of him that (Y/N) didn’t even know existed. All too soon, he felt the familiar jerk of his balls, the tensing muscles begging for release. The knot in his stomach was forming. 

“C-Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. I-” 

Crowley hummed against him and pulled back as soon as the warning came to be. Visibly, (Y/N) relaxed, but his face expressed disappointment, much to Crowley’s amusement. 

“Already close to release, and I haven’t even touched your cock yet,” Crowley teased, and the words caused (Y/N)’s cheeks to darken with blush. “Can’t have that. I want this to last. I want you to break.” 

Crowley hovered over (Y/N) again, their noses inches apart. (Y/N) could feel Crowley’s cock brush against his, causing his cock to twitch violently. Again, Crowley chuckled. He turned his head and reached over to the nightstand, opening the small drawer. It wasn’t as cluttered as the top of (Y/N) desk, but he had to admit that it needed to be cleaned out. It didn’t take long to find the bottle of lube, though, barely used. When Crowley moved back, he kissed him. That kiss was softer, sweet, the complete opposite of the others they had shared. 

He pulled away and sat up, leaning back on his heels as he uncapped the lube. He squirted a generous amount onto his right index and middle finger before he set the lube to the side, open and ready if he were to need more. He rubbed his fingers together to spread out the liquid before lowering his hand to (Y/N) wet, needy hole. His index finger began to circle it and he saw how (Y/N)’s cock twitched again. The smirk remained on his face. 

“Are you ready?” He asked softly. 

“Yes,” (Y/N) barely gave him time to finish the question. “Yes, Crowley, please,” 

“I’ll never get over how sweet that word sounds.” 

Crowley pushed one finger into him and the stars promptly returned. (Y/N)’s mouth hung open as if he were to say something, but nothing came to mind. Words didn’t exist anymore, only Crowley and his fingers. It didn’t take long for Crowley to begin to pump his finger into him, his dark eyes focused on (Y/N)’s face, intensely taking in every reaction he gave. Sweat began to glisten on (Y/N)’s brow, dripping down the side of his face and onto the sheet below. His hands were fisted at his sides, straining the bedding. When Crowley felt his hole loosen even the slightest, he added his middle finger. 

After several seconds of having Crowley insert his second finger, the knot was back and forming inside (Y/N)’s stomach. It was tight and just kept getting tighter with each stroke. When Crowley’s fingers curled ever so slightly, (Y/N)’s body violently jerked and he had to hold onto the bed as he fought back the orgasm that was quickly approaching. He went to say something, but all that came out were moans and whimpers of pleasure. He didn’t trust himself to stop Crowley before his impending climax. 

Of course, Crowley was observant himself and knew when to back away. 

Crowley pulled his hand away from him, leaving his hole empty and his mind screaming for release. Crowley brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping them around his digits as he suckled the leftover lube and flavor off of them. He quirked a brow as he took his fingers out of his mouth. 

“Strawberry flavored?” He questioned. 

(Y/N)’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. His chest and face gleamed with sweat, ever more apparent because of the morning light that filtered past his blinds. 

“It was all they had left.” He was able to mutter. 

A deep chuckle rumbled within Crowley’s chest as he grabbed the lube from beside him once again. That time, he put some into the palm of his right hand and capped the bottle, setting it back onto the side table. He wrapped his hand around his cock and lathered it up with the lube. He hissed, jaw clenched at the cool temperature. 

“You don’t mind raw, do you, darling?” He asked as he shifted in the bed so that he hovered directly above (Y/N) writhing body. 

“No,” (Y/N) was quick to respond. “No, I don’t mind just, please, please Crowley.” His desperate cries would have normally made him embarrassed, ashamed of the mess he had turned into, but he couldn’t care less. His brain didn’t belong to him anymore. It belonged to Crowley. His body wasn’t his, it was Crowley’s. All of him belonged to Crowley. 

And he was fine with that. 

“I’ll go slow,” Crowley said. “Let me know if it’s too much for you to handle.” 

It was too much to handle when Crowley was eating him out, but (Y/N) knew what he meant. He gave a quick nod of understanding. His hands immediately moved from the sheets to Crowley. One hand was placed on Crowley’s shoulder, while the other reached back, fingers entangled in the mess of brown hair. 

One of Crowley’s hands was placed on the bed, holding himself up, while the other hand reached down and grabbed his cock. He guided it to (Y/N)’s hole and, when he felt comfortable with the positioning, he moved his hand and placed it on the other side of (Y/N)’s body. Slowly, he moved his hips forward, the head of his cock pushing past the ring of muscle with some resistance before he entered him. 

(Y/N) wasn’t seeing stars anymore - he was seeing a whole galaxy. The slight painful strain mixed with bliss as Crowley pushed the head of his cock inside of him was almost too much to bear at first. He felt like his balls were going to explode with pleasure. His nails dug into Crowley’s shoulder and scalp as he continued to inch his way inside. Crowley studied (Y/N)’s face, the way his mouth hung open and eyes closed. When half of his cock was engulfed in his warmth, Crowley pulled back out a couple of inches before he thrust back inside. (Y/N) couldn’t stop the sounds from escaping his lips. Equally, as such, Crowley let out a deep, guttural groan. 

“So tight, darling. So…fucking tight,” he growled out, sounding almost feral. 

“M-More, Crowley, please, more,” (Y/N)’s voice had gone up in pitch and the need was laced throughout his tone. 

Crowley didn’t need any more indication. His hips began to pick up in speed, slowly at first, but after a while of making sure that his lover wasn’t in any pain, he went faster. While (Y/N) wasn’t able to take all of Crowley’s length inside of him, what was able to fit resulted in a cacophony of moans that echoed throughout the room. The bed rocked, the frame squeaking underneath the pressure as Crowley rhythmically snapped his hips. 

When (Y/N) had gotten used to the pleasure - ‘used to’ wasn’t the right phrasing, but rather adapted to it - he was able to open his eyes long enough to reach up, cup Crowley’s cheeks, and bring himself up to kiss him roughly. Crowley returned the kiss. Their tongues danced with each other. (Y/N) could taste a mixture of himself and the strawberry-flavored lube on Crowley’s tongue. 

Each thrust brought a new wave of pleasure, Crowley’s cock brushing against his prostate. (Y/N)’s cock and balls jerked and he knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. He pulled away, one of his hands falling to Crowley’s chest, which was equally as sweat-covered as his. It was difficult to find the strength to speak, at first, but he mustered up what little control of himself he had to do so.  

“Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. Please, can I come?” 

“Not yet,” Crowley sounded breathless. “I want to come with you.” 

“Want you to come inside me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes!” He moaned loudly as Crowley’s cock stroked his prostate again. 

Crowley growled as his lips dove down towards (Y/N)’s neck, littering it with small kisses, teeth scraping over his skin. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up. Can’t wait to make you mine,” Crowley growled. 

(Y/N) did everything in his power to hold back his orgasm, the one thing he had been trying to reach all this time. It became harder and harder the more they went on. Finally, he felt Crowley’s thrusts start to sputter, and Crowley’s grunts and moans were getting higher in pitch. Crowley reached between their bodies, his hand finding (Y/N)’s cock and he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. 

“Come.” 

And that was all the permission he needed. (Y/N) came hard, cock spasming violently in Crowley’s hand and balls convulsing as he shot his load onto his and Crowley’s chests and stomachs. Planets, stars, galaxies, universes, it was almost as if (Y/N) was lost in time and space itself. If he didn’t know any better, he swore he would have passed out from the pleasure had it not been for Crowley keeping him grounded. 

Following his orgasm, he felt Crowley still inside of him and, soon, felt the warm sensation of his load deep within his hole. They stayed there, interlocked with one another, their bodies completely frozen in time. What felt like ages later, Crowley slowly pulled out of him, a wet pop echoing throughout the room, before he collapsed beside him on the bed. (Y/N)’s arms fell beside him, his chest moving rapidly as he struggled to regain his composure. 

As he lay there, post-orgasmic clarity set in. 

He had fucked the King of Hell. 

More importantly, he had fucked the King of Hell and liked it. 

God, he was such a terrible hunter. 

His eyes trailed over to Crowley, who was still recovering from his own orgasm. He could see faint, red scratch marks across his face, chest, and right shoulder. (Y/N) didn’t even realize his nails had dug into him until then. Crowley turned his head towards him. 

“Well you weren’t the whimpering mess that I assumed you would be,” Crowley began. “But I’ll take begging any day.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but roll his eyes and he had found the strength to speak to be gone by that point. What was he even supposed to say to him? Thanks for the sex, I’ll go find your demons now? With one-night stands, he would always just get up, grab his clothes, and walk out of the motel room, but this was a little different. He was in his own home. Was he just supposed to kick Crowley out? That would seem a bit rude, wouldn’t it? 

“Care for a cuddle?” Crowley’s words broke his train of thought.

“A what?” His voice had returned. 

“A cuddle.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “The King of Hell wants to cuddle.” He said it more like a statement rather than a question.

“I take care of my lovers, (Y/N). Aftercare is just as important as foreplay.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, but found, again, that the words were lost to him. He just gave a simple nod and the two of them moved closer together. Crowley wrapped an arm underneath his shoulders and over his waist, pulling their naked bodies close. (Y/N) placed one of his hands on Crowley’s torso, his head lying against his chest. A part of him was expecting to hear a heartbeat echo in his ear, but the lack thereof only reminded him of his sins. They sat in silence for a while, embracing one another. Crowley’s hand slowly rubbed (Y/N)’s hips, and it made him realize just how sore he was going to be for a while. 

He didn’t care. 

“You know,” Crowley finally spoke up. “If you ever become too tense, you can always give me a call. I have no problem giving in to your needs.” 

“I’m not that desperate,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

Crowley chuckled, and (Y/N) could feel the vibration against his fingertips and cheek. “I beg to differ, darling, with the way you were just begging for release.” 

(Y/N)’s cheeks heated up. He knew what he had done was wrong, but whoever said that hunters had to be perfect? Or right, for that matter. No one had gotten hurt - maybe he would hurt for a while after this, but that was beside the point - and demons were going to be hunted down as a result of their deal. Crowley wasn’t a selfish lover, quite the contrary. He was the best that (Y/N) ever had. He was only human. Despite the moral aspect of it all, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have someone like Crowley just a call away. 

For his needs. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

#Supernatural #supernatural #SPN #spn #Supernatural x Reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #SPN x Reader #Crowley Macleod #Crowley x Reader #Crowley x Male!Reader #Male!Reader #Supernatural Scribe #Supernatural Smut #Supernatural x Male!Reader #SPN x Male!Reader #Crowley Macleod Smut #Crowley Smut

[dinosaurrah]

Jack Kline x Brother!Reader

Female Version Here

(You are like, what? 15 or something? Younger than the physical age of Jack. Also, Sam and Dean don't know about you. (Yet.))

Kelly was preparing for the delivering of her second child, Jack Kline. Her son, (Name) Kline, was sat beside her the whole labour. Cas had picked him up so he didn't have to stay any longer alone.

"I'm glad you're here, (Name)." Kelly thanked her, for now, only son. (Name) smiled, tears pricking his eyes. "I have to be here for you and Jack, don't I?" He replied, sniffling. Kelly chuckled in reply.

"He's lucky to have a brother like you." She admired. (Name)'s sad smile quickly faded as he saw yellow 'veins' race towards the top of his mother's head. "I love you." Kelly whispered before a bright light blasted (Name) into the wall.

As the light faded, (Name) not seeing it as he had been knocked out. Jack stood at the end of the bed, grown to the physical age of 20-something. His eyes wandered around the room until they landed on the body on the bed, "Mother." He recalled, admiring her peaceful face.

His eyes moved back to the door when he noticed a body near the opposite wall. He walked over slowly, his footsteps leaving burn prints on the wood floor. He crouched as he examined the young boy.

"My... brother?" He asked to himself. He felt his face do something, but it must have been what Kelly explained as smiling. He picked the unconcious body up from the floor and held him in his arms.

He walked out the door and down the hallway, noticing an open door. He slowly creeped to the foor and pushed it open with his foot. It said Jack on the wall in bubble letters. Of course, Jack couldn't read so he assumed it was gibberish.

He sat (Name) down next to him and crouched in the corner, legs tucked to his chest, his arms wrapped around his knees. He had relaxed, eyes dimming their gold colour a little. That was until Jack heard someone running up the stairs.

"Jack?" The voice called. Jack sat in a defensive stance, slightly shifting (Name)'s body behind him as the tall moose-like man entered the room in a hurry. "Jack?" He asked, focusing on the grown boy.

"F-Father?" Jack asked, confused. Sam looked confused as he rested his eyes on the young unconsious boy in Jack's hands. Jack stood up, still holding the boy. "Father." Jack said, more certainly. "No, no. Jack, I'm not your father. I'm Sam." Sam explained. "Who is that?" He asked, looking at the boy.

Jack followed Sam's gaze to his brother. He suddenly looked confused.  "I think... he's my brother." He replied, looking back at Sam. "Oh, uh-" Sam was cut off by a shout from downstairs.

"Sam?" The aggressive voice asked, concern lacing the tone. "Sammy!" It called again. Jack hugged his sister closer, not wanting to let her go. A shorter-than-Sam man ran into the room. He took one look at the boy in Jack's hands and took out his gun.

BANG!

He fired it and the bullet barely missed Jack's left shoulder, instead hitting a lamp on the shelf behind him. Jack turned back angry and screamed at a frequency that only dogs could hear, (?) which caused the two Winchesters to float.

"Who... is... that...?" Dean asked Sam, slowed by Jack's abilities. Sam turned to Dean. "His... br-" Sam was again cut off by Jack blasting them into the wall, instantly knocking them out cold.

Jack looked between the three unconcious bodies in the room. Two near his cot and one in his arms. Then, (Name) started to come back to conciousness. She groaned, causing Jack to drop him.

"Ow!" He cried out in pain, rubbing the back off his head. "Um... sorry?" He apologised, confused once more. (Name)'s head darted in Jack's direction and he scrambled to get away.

"Who- Who are you? And where are your clothes?" He asked, shielding his eyes. "I'm..." He paused for a moment, begore looking to the wall. He saw the bubble letters. J. A. C. K. He squinted his eyes and slowly sounded the word out.

"Juh, ahh, ca, kuh." He whispered. He turned back to his brother excitedly. "Jahcak" He said confidently. (Name) stared in shock. This was him, Jack. His little brother. Only he wasn't so little, a grown man, he looked older than himself.

"Jack?" He asked quietly. "Yes! That one!" He said happily, pointing in his direction. He couldn't help but smile. He looked at him and got up slowly. He quietly walked over to him and looked at his face closely.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before widening his eyes. He pulled him in for a hug. He was taken aback by the gesture but he hugged back nonetheless. He pulled away, the glow in his eyes fully gone now.

They were a mix of blue and brown, but mostly blue. His blonde hair blew slightly due to the open window on the other side of the room.

"Shall we go?" He asked, holding out a hand to him. He looked at it and smiled. "But where?" (Name) asked. "Away from them." Jack stated, gesturing to the two men that were still passed out.

"We need to get you some clothes first, Jack." He advised. Jack walked with him as he started walking towards Cas' room in the small cabin. "What are... clothes?" Jack asked innocently. (Name) sighed, "I'll tell you after we get you dressed." He said, closing the door after Jack walked in for privacy.

#jack kline x brother!reader #supernatural x male!reader #we love jack kline

[l1tw1ck]

bottom Dean x dom!top!amab reader

started watching supernatural and good lord they are hot. only writing for dean and sam atm, only on s2

cw: nipple play, orgasm denial, begging

It was late at night, so dark that Dean had to walk around the house with his lighter. He's staying over at your place while he hunts down another creature. He couldn't sleep so he's getting a glass of water. He thought he was being quiet but he thought wrong, he jumps when the light turns on. "Can't sleep, Dean?" You smile.

"Guess not. Didn't mean to wake ya."

"It's fine." You slowly walk over to him, towering over his slightly shorter frame. He leans back into the sink, intimidated for some reason. "I know a way to help you fall asleep."

He knows exactly what you mean. "Be gentle." He smirks.

Dean grips the edge of the sink and leans his head back, mouth agape as you bottom out inside him. You're bigger than anything he's ever taken. He's only used his fingers but still. "Fuh- fuck–" He moans.

"Am I too big for you, baby?" You tease him, sneaking your hands up underneath his shirt to play with his nipples. Dean gasps in shock, ass squeezing your cock in pleasure. "Oh, you like that?"

He grips the sink harder, a short and strained whimper leaving his lips before he bites on the lower one. He feels good but he still has pride.

"Don't be shy," You slowly pull out before slamming into him. He can't help but let out a loud, slutty moan. "I wanna hear you, Dean."

Dean moans uncontrollably as you roughly fuck him, his pre cum dripping onto the floor and a string of curses leaving his pretty wet lips. "Shit!" He cries out, your cock hitting his prostate. "There! Right— fuck~!"

"You wanna come, Dean?" You grip the tip of his cock, preventing him from getting release. "Beg for it. Beg for me to let you come like the whore you are."

"I'm no- not a whore!"

"No? Then why are you taking my cock like you are?"

He whimpers again. His pride isn't worth it. He wants needs to come. "Ple- please! Please let me come, [Name]~! I wanna come~!"

"Good boy." Dean comes right when you release his cock, cum splattering all over the cabinet and floor.

#wicks🕯️shorts #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #bottom male character #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #🕯️supernatural

[caspsfang]

sam [ WINCHESTER ] ▬▬▬▬ ❝ It doesn't matter who you are, it only matters what you do . ❞

[ WARNING(S) ¿ ] bot!sam, ftm!sam, marking, amab reader, squirting, reversed cowgirl, car sex, semi-public sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, not proof read - short .

How'd you end up in this current situation? You've got no idea. One minute you're on the way back to the motel to meet Dean with Sam. And the next.. You have Sam WINCHESTER bouncing on your cock like a mad man, car shaking harshly.

His Back was facing you, but by the way he sounded you could definitely figure out what his face looked like right now. His hands on the dashboard holding him up, the street lights on the dark road shining on you both.

Sam WINCHESTER who's moans were so loud you didn't even hear the first few times Dean called your phone, millions of texts being sent after each call asking if you two were okay, alive.

Sam WINCHESTER, the 'quiet but smart brother' wasn't any of those as of right now. Sam couldn't even form a from how hard he was being fucked, pussy squeezing around your fat cock occasionally. Moaning so loud that it's practically like screaming, his throat burning from such.

Sam lost count of how long you've been going at since his 4th orgasm, Pussy fluttering as he squirted again. Body convulsing as waves of pleasure hit him, begging you to cum inside of him again as he felt your cock twitch inside his cunt.

Sam WINCHESTER, a man of few words, but not currently, begging you to fill him between moans and whimpers falling from his mouth, hands gripping the dashboard so tight his knuckles turn white.

Sighing in relief as he felt your hot seed filling him again, wet squelching sounds filling the car, his moans getting higher pitched as you snaked your hand around him, fingers roughly circling his clit. Pushing him over the edge again, body shivering from pleasure.

Sam WINCHESTER who looks more than satisfied as you two finally drive back, tiredly smiling as he fell asleep in the passenger seat from exhaustion, listening in on your conversation with Dean on the phone, making up every excuse possible.

@caspsfang , do not repost nor copy .

#༒ — ★ 𝐂𝐀𝐒 writes #༒ — ☆ 𝐂𝐀𝐒 works #sam winchester x reader #Sam winchester x male reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #bottom male character #sub male character

[monstersandmaw]

Male kelpie (dad-bod, single father, biker) x plus size f. reader - Part One (sfw)

Background info post on the Full Moon Motorcycles group here Oats Appreciation post here

Featuring a plus-size, bisexual, not very confident reader, and a divorced, Scottish, single-dad, biker kelpie with a soft-dad bod and a heart as big as his bike’s engine (possibly bigger).

CW: there is a very brief moment where a character (not Oats!) insults the reader for her size and uses some fat-phobic language towards and about her, unaware that she can hear him. If you’re sensitive to that, it is brief, but you can skip from “…you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.” to the paragraph beginning, “After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror…”. Also, if you squint, there’s a passing moment that could possibly be interpreted as the reader having some potential issues with food, but it’s not intended to be a big deal and it’s only for about two sentences. Still putting it in here too, just in case. 

Wordcount: 7562

You pushed open the glass door of Full Moon Motorcycles and willed yourself not to feel self-conscious or out of place.

Having both an older brother and a mother who rode motorbikes had at least given you a fair bit of familiarity with bikes and the general ‘biker culture’, but it was mostly the fact that almost all the ‘biker girls’ you saw posing on social media were slim and toned, which you were decidedly not.

From the utterly foetid takes in the comments section of the one post your brother had shared on his page with you in it, you’d also got the impression that the biker community was not particularly kind to any woman with a waist over 25 inches. It probably wasn’t the case, but your one experience with it had been enough to make you very wary.

And yet, as you made your way towards the bike shop’s counter and the older man with floppy, greying hair and warm brown eyes looked up, you were greeted with an open, welcoming smile.

“Hi there,” he said, standing up with a grunt from the comfy chair where he’d been sitting in the corner near the shop’s antique cash register. “What can I do for you?”

You smiled shyly and glanced along the wooden countertop before returning your gaze to him. “I’m looking for a present for my brother, but I’m kind of on a budget…”

“Gotcha. We’ve got some silly key fobs there,” he said, indicating a rotating display rack at one end of the counter, with mottoes that ranged from funny to explicit, “But if they like working on their bike themselves, you can’t go wrong with some maintenance supplies… Not the most glamorous but I promise they’ll be grateful to you all the same.”

“Could always tie a festive ribbon round it,” you said, and he chuckled and nodded.

“That’s the spirit.”

You eyed the reasonable price of the fobs with some relief, and then followed his gesture towards the various bottles of chain degreaser and the like, and a few other useful tools and kits that were stacked on shelves on the back wall to the right of a door that presumably led into the back and store rooms.

The right hand side of the shop had the counter and some shiny, new bikes that had been parked in a row around the perimeter of the space, and the left hand side was more open with a bench or two against the brick walls, and some red, mechanics’ tool-chests tucked against the back wall. A number of leather two- and one-piece suits hung in racks at the furthest end though, with helmets on shelves and a few rows of t-shirts, jeans, gloves, and boots displayed too. There were oil stains in the centre of the polished concrete floor, and you suspected that tinkering took place there outside of the shop’s usual opening hours.

The whole vibe of Full Moon Motorcycles was friendly and cosy, with a slightly industrial, grungy note for some flavour.

In short, you loved it.

“There are also some fun helmet covers –” the older man chuckled, and added, “A number of the regulars here have them, and there are also some earplugs, or perhaps a tough phone case and mount? A chain care kit? There are some vinyl stickers too, and t-shirts, socks, neck warmers, balaclavas, mugs, helmet care kits, thermals…”

Laughing, you held up your hands for him to stop, and he started to chuckle too.

“I’ll let you browse in peace, sweetheart,” he said, his whisky brown eyes twinkling. Even his un-looked-for endearment came across as kindly instead of creepy, and not many men could pull that off. “You just holler if you have questions and I’ll be happy to –”

The door opened behind you and he broke off as his attention was snagged by the arrival of a heavy-set guy in dark jeans and a softly-worn, black leather jacket. He held a black helmet with a tinted visor in his large hands, and he looked more than a little wind-blown and rumpled.

Incongruous with his rather roguish-dishevelment, a lock of his long, thick, slightly grizzled, black hair was held back by a little hair-clip with a Barbie-pink, fabric bow. It didn’t fit with the dark scruff of stubble on his jaw or the piercing green-blue eyes at all, but he seemed completely unfazed by its presence.

“Oats!” the older man exclaimed with obvious joy, clapping his hands. “It’s been a while, my boy! How was the trip to Scotland? You make it round the NC500 this time?”

The ‘boy’ looked to be in his mid to late thirties…

“Ach, no’ a chance this time, Hank,” the man chuckled with a heavy, Scottish accent lacing his rich, rough baritone. Exactly where in Scotland he was from, you couldn’t tell, but it was lyrical and attractive all the same.

“Ah, next time, next time. And is Natalie well?

“Oh aye, my wee Loch Ness Monster is doing just fine. She’ll be terrorising her mother for the Christmas holidays. I came straight from the road though — clutch started playing up just south of Birmingham.” He grimaced, but even that looked charming somehow. “Sort of hoped you might find a minute to take a look at it for me if I left the Old Girl here. No rush though.”

“No problem, Oats. We’ll get her running properly again in no time. Bet you’re missing little Natalie already,” Hank added sympathetically.

“Ah, you have no idea,” the man, peculiarly-named ‘Oats’, sighed ruefully, shaking his head.

“See she left you with a parting gift though,” Hank snorted, pointing at the bow hair clip.

With a slight frown to his dark eyebrows, Oats reached up and patted at his head until he found it, and then he laughed. It was a loud, delighted, full-bellied sound that reverberated through the space while it lasted, and he left the hair clip where it was with no trace of self-consciousness as he lowered his hand again. “Aye, that she did. Surprised it survived the journey down with my lid on and everything. Oh –” His unusually pale green eyes landed on you, watching him and lurking near the rows of t-shirts on the back wall, and he went still.

Those sea-grey eyes raked you up and down, clearly noting the way your black leggings clung to the curves of your thighs and hips, and the black hoodie, which maybe went some way to hiding the softness of your stomach a bit, and he swallowed visibly. He looked… hungry. That was not the usual reaction you had grown accustomed to from men, and you let the flare of heat lick up your insides for just a moment, daring to hope that maybe he did find you attractive.

“Sorry,” he said in your direction, with a soft, dusky smile. “Didnae mean t’interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” you managed to croak back at him before returning your attention, however reluctantly, to present options for your brother while the older man, Hank, hobbled out around the corner of the wooden counter to chat amicably with the man. You couldn’t hear what was said as the two chatted in lower voices, but it was evident that they were good friends. While they talked, however, you couldn’t help noticing that he stole occasional sidelong glances in your direction, and you felt your face warm pleasantly.

‘Oats’ was certainly an unusual nickname, but then again, almost everyone who rode with your brother also had their own nicknames for one reason or another. As you browsed, you wondered what Oats had done to earn that one. He certainly looked like a snack to you, but you vowed not to let your attraction to the stranger show. Awkward situations (or worse, silences) tended to arise when you let that happen.

He had a tanned, outdoorsy complexion, and longish, black hair that was tied back in a low ponytail that brushed below the collar of his black leather jacket. It looked like it had a tendency to flop into his face when not restrained by that out-of-place pink bow. He filled out the jacket very well, and clearly had a soft paunch, and his thighs looked frankly delectable in those thick, indigo jeans. You prayed you wouldn’t have to see him fully from the back if he turned around, to witness the way he filled out the seat of his jeans too.

Fuck. Concentrate.

Bike gifts for brother, not delicious-looking stranger you’re never going to see again.

“Well, I shouldnae hang about, I suppose.”

Oats’ voice cut through your musings in front of chain degreasers and you jumped a little. Glancing back over at him, you offered him a smile when he too turned to look at you one last time, and a slow, charming smile crept onto his handsome face.

“See you,” he said with a dip of his head. Before he strode from the shop though, he let his eyes roam once more down the length of you and he bit his lower lip, almost regretfully, then turned away abruptly.

Oh yes. He absolutely did fill out the ass of those jeans beautifully.

Quite honestly, you weren’t totally sure what you ended up getting your brother for his birthday. You took whatever it was to the counter in a daze, your mind replaying over and over the way he’d looked at you.

“Must say,” Hank said conspiratorially as he fished your change from the antique cash register and slid it across the polished, wooden counter towards you. “I’ve never seen Oats quite so taken with someone, miss.” He chuckled, his kind, whisky-brown eyes glinting. “You take care now.”

Swallowing, you nodded and left the shop, hoping perhaps to find Oats waiting for you outside on the street, leaning against his motorcycle, but life was not a movie, and wherever he was, he was not lingering in the hopes of seeing you. In fact, the street was completely deserted, so you crossed, clambered into your little hatchback, and drove home with the feeling that you’d let a pivotal moment in your life pass you by.

Your sour mood persisted like a raincloud for the whole week, but by the time you were driving over to your brother’s on Saturday for his birthday ride, you were trying to pull yourself out of it. You had your own helmet with you, secured in the back of the car, and beside it was (now wrapped) the present you’d got him. In fact, it was a chain care kit, and, although you hadn’t noticed at the time, Hank had thrown in a free keychain that said ‘In my defence, I was left unsupervised’ which was very on-brand for your brother. You had planned to go back and thank him for the freebie as soon as you could, but your brother’s birthday ride had been planned for that Saturday, and work had been hell that week, so you’d not had the chance.

Predictably, Alex wasn’t in the house when you rang the doorbell, so you followed the sound of metallic clinking and laughter, and went round the side to find him tinkering with his mad little Honda Grom in the garage, while his two best mates — Eggs and Sparky — were lounging around and either making unhelpful suggestions or lewd comments.

“Yo!” Sparky grinned when he saw you, sitting up straighter and almost falling off the mechanic’s tool chest he was leaning his weight against. At Sparky’s exclamation, your brother sat up and banged his head on the handlebars of the short little Grom with a curse.

“Hey,” you mumbled in Sparky’s general direction. “Happy birthday, Alex.”

Alex scrambled upright and came over to hug you, probably smearing grease and dirt all over your armoured jacket, but since it was black anyway, you didn’t mind too much. Alex was about as opposite to you as it was possible to get — straight up and down like a beanpole, and tall. You took after your mother, inheriting all her thick curves and soft edges. Soft heart too.

“Thought this might come in handy,” you mumbled when Alex released you and you held out the brown paper bag stamped with the logo of Full Moon Motorcycles.

His eyes lit up when he saw the logo, and he tore into it like a chipmunk after a peanut, grinning in delight when he’d dismembered it, and in particular he showed off the keychain to his mates. Eggs snatched it and tried to claim it for himself, but Alex was having none of it, and the three of them scrapped and goofed around while you sat down on an old, metal stool in the corner and waited for the other two of your small party to show up, with a cool, curdling kind of dread in the pit of your stomach when you heard one name in particular. Nooner.

Within an hour though, you were all out on the road.

You took the pillion seat behind Alex, and warded his mates off at red lights when they came for his killswitch to immobilise him. A while later though, Alex zoomed off down the open road that would take you all out of town and towards the somewhat famous biker cafe, ‘Elusive Neutral’, that sat nestled amongst the fragrant heather of the rolling hills surrounding the old market town.

The sky was a gorgeous, autumnal blue and the weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and as your brother’s Yamaha flew along the winding A-road that was every biker’s dream, you cracked a smile and gently tipped your head back. As much as it had scared you when you’d first ridden behind your mother all those years ago, you did love the feeling of being out on a bike. Not that you were actually brave enough to want to try and learn yourself though. Something always held you back, made you wary and unsure, and then you inevitably felt down about that too. God, you wished you had Alex’s wild confidence.

Nothing good ever seemed to last for you though, and when Alex’s R1 had purred into the car park behind Eggs and Sparky, and you’d hopped off to let him reverse more easily into a space, you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.

“…if he didn’t have his fat sister with him, we could have fucking ripped it up along those twisties.” That, of course, had come from Nooner, named for the fact that he rarely stuck to two wheels and always pulled wheelies, or ‘nones’, whenever he got the chance. Out of all of your brother’s friends, he was the one you liked the least, for… obvious reasons.

“Talk about killing the vibes, huh?” Eggs replied, trying to suck up to him, as ever. “More like ‘crushing’!”

The reason Eggs had earned his nickname was that he’d lost a bet and shaved his head when they’d all been about sixteen, and he’d looked like a boiled egg til it grew back. You wished you had the sass to remind him of that every time his spine seemed to crumble in favour of earning a half-hearted snicker out of Nooner.

When Alex joined you, he caught the crestfallen expression on your face and frowned, but you shook your head and walked away from them, heading for the cafe alone.

“Can’t wait to shove some cake in her fat gob already,” Nooner added as an aside to Eggs, and your vision blurred as tears welled along your lashes. Why did people have to be so cruel? To trample all over someone else just to feel a little taller themselves?

You vaguely heard what sounded like Sparky’s voice countering the comment, but you didn't stick around either way. If you mentioned it to your brother again, he’d just say it was banter with the guys and not to take it to heart. Easy for someone who's never been on the end of that kind of comment to shrug it off, after all.

You ducked straight for the toilets when you got inside the airy, modern cafe, not even bothering to look around or find a table first.

After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror to see that you hadn’t turned your eyeliner into a panda cosplay, you headed out again and made for the little bar that doubled as a counter for people who were there solo to sit and eat instead of taking up a whole table to themselves. None of your brother’s friends joined you, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw that they’d settled themselves around a table in the far corner and already had a number for a server to bring their food order over. They hadn’t even waited for you.

“Fuck them,” you hissed through gritted teeth, taking a seat at the bar instead. The stools were made of old tractor seats, and they were surprisingly comfortable, and as you leaned your forearms on the countertop, the young woman behind the counter came over to you with a smile that made you feel a little better.

“Hey,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

You ordered a hot drink, and then took out your phone while you waited for her to make it for you.

For half an hour or so, you sat scrolling through social media and sipping your drink and telling yourself this was your brother’s day and not yours. He did come over a couple of times, but you declined to sit with his friends, and because he’d never had any real reason to doubt you before, he took you at your word when you told him you were happy enough where you were. “I don’t want to get in the way,” you said, and he believed you.

Patting you on the shoulder, he left you for the third time, and you looked down into the dregs of your drink with a heavy sigh. “This sucks.”

Outside, the sound of more bikes arriving made your ears perk up, and you wondered idly what they rode. Elusive Neutral had once been an old cattle barn, but it had been completely redone and the walls on two sides had been replaced with vast picture windows that showed the sweeping expanse of moorland beyond, and a small sliver of the car park at one end. Craning your neck, you saw a group of maybe five or six bikers draw up, some on hipster looking cafe racers and others on racy sports bikes. There was even a Ducati Panigale among them, and behind them followed an old, battered, blue pickup truck.

The door opened a little while later, and you glanced over, eyes drawn instinctively by the movement.

Above the general chatter and merry chinking of china in the room, the energy of the new group of bikers rose like a cloud of dizzy mayflies; buzzing and excited and full of joy. You watched them all with interest from your perch at the counter.

The first through the door was an absolute Amazon of a woman, with her long black hair restrained in a thick braid, and shoulders the width of a barn door. She was lean and tall, and in her biker gear she looked… incredible. Her face was strikingly handsome, but until she glanced down at the woman walking beside her, her features were hard and glowering and unspeakably stern. She held the door open for one of the others to follow her inside, but when she locked eyes again with the brunette by her side, her whole expression melted into unguarded adoration. Your gut twisted briefly with jealousy.

It wouldn’t matter to you who looked at you like that, if only someone would.

You looked away, and by the time you glanced back at the bikers, the whole group had filed in from outside. There was a guy with golden-brown skin and beautiful dark brown eyes who had his arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a pale, skinny guy in black jeans and a moth-eaten, black jumper, with his long hair tied back in a bun, and behind them came a strikingly attractive guy in a manual wheelchair, flanked by a very short biker with slightly anaemic looking skin. You wondered fleetingly if the guy in the wheelchair had ridden a motorbike there, and if so how, before you realised he was probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, with long, flowing red hair and dark green eyes, and the kind of mouth that was made for laughing, and for kissing.

Jesus, was it an unwritten rule of being a biker that you had to be unfairly attractive? Even Hank, who you recognised with a start of surprise coming in behind the guy with red hair, wasn’t unattractive, in a bulky, older man kind of way.

The guy walking with him though… he truly made your stomach swoop.

It was Oats.

You looked away before he could spot you, sitting alone at the bar like some pathetic creature waiting for cocktail hour to begin. It was lunchtime on a sunny, autumnal Saturday though, and there you were sitting alone because you didn’t fancy sitting with your brother’s loser mates.

God, the way Oats had looked in his tough-looking leather jacket, with his eyes crinkled mid-laugh at something the guy in the wheelchair had shot back at them over his shoulder… You bit your lip and stared into the bottom of your cold, empty mug like it would divine some kind of solution to your situation for you.

The new group didn’t seem to notice you while they filed up to the counter, jostling and joking, and when they drifted off to another corner of the cafe, you turned back to your phone, trying desperately to resist the almost overwhelming urge to keep turning over your shoulder to watch them.

Before too long however, you startled at a soft tap on your shoulder, and you looked around to find Oats himself stepping back to a polite distance and smiling down at you like he’d found a treasure in an unexpected place.

“Hey there,” he said in that rolling, Scottish accent that did unspeakably indecent things to your insides. “Sorry if I’m intruding, but you were at Full Moon last week, right?”

Mute for a moment, you nodded, and mustered up a slightly dazed smile for him.

“You… here alone?” he asked, eyeing the currently-empty seats to your left and right. In fact, someone had only just gathered up their belongings and left.

“Kind of?” you croaked, letting your eyes slide over to the table where your brother and his friends were hunched over one of their phones, snickering at something. “It’s… It’s my brother’s birthday today. I… tagged along as pillion, but… you know… I’m kind of a spare part really.”

At that, Oats’ dark eyebrows knitted into a scowl and he looked across the room at them before returning his attention to you. Then, his unearthly, almost prismatic, silver-green eyes took in your empty cup and he grinned. “Can I get y’a top up?”

Your instinct was to refuse, but you bit your lip. This didn’t feel real. A cute, handsome, courteous guy was actually taking an interest in you.

“Sure. Thank you.” And the smile that spread itself across your face telegraphed your delight in a way that was impossible to disguise with any kind of suave grace.

Oats, however, seemed equally delighted, and nodded. The barista came back over and he leaned his weight on the counter to talk to her. He seemed to have that enviably easy manner with everybody, and he even charmed a free slice of cake out of her too with what felt like no effort at all.

“Chocolate? Or something else?” he asked you.

“Pardon?”

“Cake.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” you said, but he frowned.

“You sure? I’m gonna have a bit of their chocolate cake. It’s so good, it’s practically a sin.”

“I…” you faltered.

He didn’t pressure you though and shrugged easily, turning back to the barista. “Gimme two forks with that, love. Just in case.”

“No problem,” she beamed back while she bustled about, and Oats eyed the empty bar stool next to yours.

“May I?”

You swallowed your nerves and nodded. “Please.” And then, because apparently a demon of confidence had temporarily possessed you, you eyed his slightly helmet-flattened forelock and said, “No pink hair clips today?”

He guffawed loudly enough that your brother actually glanced over and frowned when he saw you talking with a stranger.

Oats snorted and shook his head. “No, not today. My daughter is still up in Scotland with her mother.” He fixed you with a more serious look and said, “She and I divorced, before you get the wrong idea about me flirting like this with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment caught you so off-guard that you just froze for a moment, but when the heat of a blush filled your face, you looked away and he chuckled.

“I’m not normally so forward, but I’ve been kicking myself for not talking to you when I first saw you in Full Moon. Hank was telling me just this morning what a muppet I’d made of myself for walking away like that.”

You looked behind you at the group of his friends and then turned back to him. “Won’t they think you’re being rude, ignoring them like this?”

He shook his head and smiled. “They’re probably all taking bets on how quickly you’ll shoot me down.”

“What? I’d have to be an idiot to do that.”

At that, his face split into a huge, handsome grin and he shook his head just a little. “Lucky me,” he said. “You ride?” he added, eyeing your jacket that was obviously a motorcycle jacket.

You shrugged. “Pillion. I’ve never ridden myself, but my brother lets me come out with him sometimes.”

Oats nodded, and then, as the barista set down his coffee, your top-up, and the plate of decadent chocolate cake with two forks, he said, “I’m Euan, by the way, but everyone calls me Oats.”

You introduced yourself, and then said, “Oats?”

He snorted and nodded. “Not the worst nickname, for sure.”

“Can I ask where it came from?”

Oats nodded and shunted the plate towards you first before leaning his elbow on the bar and watching you while he spoke. “I think it’s because I’m a dad, but I’m always prepared for most situations, and when it comes to my Natalie, she’s always hungry. I’ve usually got about a thousand granola bars stashed away about my person —” he said, cutting himself off to pat conspicuously at his jacket pockets. Pulling a slightly dog-eared crunchy bar from his breast pocket, he wielded it like a magic wand at you and said, “Case in point.”

“Hence, Oats,” you said, eyeing the healthy brand name on the packet.

“Exactly. Like I said, it could be worse. See the tall lass over there with the dangerous scowl?”

You didn't need to turn around to know which of his friends he was talking about, but you did anyway. “Yeah.”

“We call her Pixie.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” he chuckled, stowing the granola bar back into his pocket and taking a huge scoop of the chocolate cake with his own fork.

“What do you ride then?” you asked.

“Triumph Bonneville T120,” he said with almost exactly the same intonation and fondness as he’d just said ‘because I’m a dad’, and you couldn’t help smiling. “Can’t be doing with all these glitzy sports bikes and the like,” he added with a laugh, setting his fork down and blinking slowly. His lashes, you noticed, were thick and dark and enticingly long.

Laughing, you smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly — my brother rides an R1.”

“Nice,” Oats grinned back. “But nothing could entice me away from my girl.”

“I’m surprised you’re here, flirting with me then,” you said. Evidently that confidence demon was still lurking.

Again, Oats laughed, though it was more of a low whicker this time, and it rolled right through you and lit you up all over. God, how long had it been since someone had laughed like that for you?

“There are… exceptions,” he said in a rumbling murmur. “Tell me about yourself?” he asked, and you did.

You spent the next hour at least talking in an easy back and forth with him while he charmed a few more refills from the barista and a lot of answers out of you, before one of his friends sidled up shyly and waited for a lull in your conversation.

“Sorry to butt in,” the small, unbelievably beautiful woman said. She was the one who’d been on the receiving end of the adoring look from the Amazon, ‘Pixie’. She had chocolate-brown hair falling in thick ringlets around a gorgeous face, and, you were pleased to note, she had wide hips and a softness to her that a lot of the biker chicks you’d seen online didn’t have.

“Coco,” Oats beamed. “Meet my new friend.” He introduced you by name, and Coco smiled at you, holding out her hand.

When your palms connected, you felt a warmth rush through you and you felt like your heart skipped a beat. The feeling like you could tip forwards and drown in her endless, dark brown eyes almost unseated you, but she let go of you and stepped back with a pretty smile on her Cupid’s-bow lips. “Pleasure to meet you. Just wanted to tell Oats that we’re thinking of heading off soon. Ariel has a photoshoot he wants to get to in an hour or so, and Demon’s keen to get going as well.”

Oats nodded, and you tried not to let your stomach drop down to your boots at the thought of all this coming to such an abrupt end.

Coco turned her head sharply to look at you just as the feeling hit, and she smiled faintly. “You could always stay here though, Oats,” she added with a pretty smile. “We’re only going back to Full Moon, and Demon clearly has no intention of lingering there…” She shot a meaningful glance back at their table. Demon, the guy with dark hair and tanned skin, was seated with the guy he’d entered with now draped in his lap, his skinny legs dangling as he sprawled languidly back against the guy’s muscular chest. Demon whispered something into his ear before he clearly bit the shell of his boyfriend’s ear, which made him sit abruptly upright and flush a vibrant pink.

Oats laughed again and shook his head. “Fuck me,” he chuckled privately. “Never thought I’d see the day. You guys go on. I’m… I’m very much content here.”

“I can see that,” Coco smirked, and walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you turned to Oats with a hot flush of your own in your face and said, “Don’t stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure my brother will be leaving soon anyway…”

Just as you said that, and before Oats could reply, Alex reappeared at your side and jutted his chin in Oats’ direction. “You good?” he chirped at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “This is Oats. I met him at Full Moon Motorcycles when I was buying your birthday present.”

“Oh,” Alex replied, holding out his hand for Oats to shake. “Good to meet you, man. You tell her what to get for me? If you did, it was a good choice.”

“No,” Oats said carefully, his grey-green eyes sliding back to your face even while he shook your brother’s hand amicably. “No, whatever she got you, it was all her.”

“Oh, cool,” Alex said. “Listen, sis, we’re gonna hit the road in a while. Nooner and Eggs want to hit the twisties for a bit, but I can’t really do that with a backpack, so Sparky said he’d give you a ride home, if that’s ok.”

You swallowed. “Um…”

“I can give her a lift,” Oats replied after a swift glance in your direction. “She’s already got her own lid, and there’s room on the Bobber’s double seat for both of us.”

“I don’t know, man,” Alex said with a wary frown.

“Your choice,” Oats shrugged easily, looking at you and holding his hands up just a little.

For a fleeting moment, you weren’t sure, but the idea of wrapping your arms around Oats’ thick middle and sitting astride his gorgeous bike kind of decided it for you. Besides, it was a long time since you’d done anything truly just for yourself; simply because you wanted to. You nodded at your brother. “It’s fine. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Nodding to reassure him, you smiled again and Alex backed up a pace. “Cool. Text me later, ok?” he said as he retreated towards his friends, clearly trying to hide his excitement at not having a passenger for the great, twisting section of A-road they were heading for.

“Will do. Have fun, and don’t crash!” you called after him. “Or get a speeding ticket!”

He waved a hand over one shoulder without looking back, and you laughed and returned your attention to Oats. “Brothers.”

“Bikers,” he replied. “You try telling that to any of that lot though —” he gestured towards his own group of friends who were now filtering out of the door. “You ready to head out too or do you want to stay?”

You did want to stay, but the seat wasn’t that comfortable anymore, and you wanted to move around a bit. “No, I’m good to go,” you said and prepared to slide off the stool, but Oats stepped down first and held out his hand to you. You didn't need helping down, and his playful little smirk told you he knew as much, so you rode out the last of that demonic possession and let your fingers slide across his palm and he steadied you off the stool.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Pleasure.”

You picked up your helmet from where you’d stowed it on the floor at your feet and straightened to find him waving casually across the room to the good-looking guy with the ethereally pretty boyfriend. Before he stepped away from you and made towards the door though, you cleared your throat and said, “Oats?”

“Mn?” Looking down at you, his entire attention honed in on you, like you were the centre of the universe, and you swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion.

“Listen… Thank you… for… coming over to me today. Like I said, it’s my brother’s birthday, and he was here with his friends, and he only included me so I didn’t feel completely left out, but…” Accursed tears washed over your eyes for a moment but you blinked them away furiously and ploughed on regardless. “I’m really glad I came along today anyway,” you finished rather pathetically.

His full, beautiful lips curled into a gentle smile and he blinked softly and exhaled. When he spoke, his voice was low and his words private, as though you weren’t standing in a busy cafe surrounded by people and the cheerful clatter of coffee cups and laughter. “I’m really glad I did too. I wasn’t going to, you know? I was going to stay at home and edit a boatload of raw photographs for a client, but Demon convinced me to come out. I guess I owe him.”

“‘Demon’? For… For the speed?” you asked, wondering how he came by his nickname.

“For the horns,” Oats replied in deadpan humour. “Have a look if he’s still there when we go outside. You ready?”

You followed him out of the cafe with a nod, and just as you took a deep, indulgent breath of fresh, heathland air, Oats’ group of friends filed out past you on their bikes. The one named Demon was in the lead, and the nickname made immediate sense. Sitting astride a blood-red Panigale, with his boyfriend clinging on behind him like a limpet, the guy had pale, curving horns fixed to the crown of his helmet.

“Yeah, that tracks,” you said, and Oats waggled his dark eyebrows.

The Amazon had a Yamaha R1 like your brother’s, but hers had a pearl-white wrap that made it look almost spectral, and riding out in front of her was Coco on a yellow and black Honda Hornet.

The telltale red plait told you that the guy in the wheelchair was on a modified Kawasaki, with unusual struts at the back that looked like they would come down when he stopped to stabilise him instead of having to take his legs off the foot pegs, where they were currently Velcro-ed in place. Watching the whole group file out was Hank, standing beside a battered old pickup. In the bed of the truck, you could just see that the red-headed biker’s wheelchair secured in place.

Hank waved the last of them off, then glanced over at Oats. The older man lifted his nose just a little, as if he too was enjoying the fresh, moorland wind that whipped across the car park, and he nodded once at Oats, and then at you to your surprise, before clambering stiffly up into his pickup and closing the door. It shut with a raucous yelp of rusty hinges.

You stood there and watched Oats’ friends all file out, all waving at Oats as they passed, before they set off down the road in a roar of revving engines to leave a lonely looking Bonneville waiting patiently near the stone wall of the car park nearby.

“Yours, I presume?” you said, nodding at it.

“Yup.”

“She’s a beauty,” you mumbled, self-consciousness prickling at the sides of your neck for the silly comment.

Oats beamed though, his sea-foam eyes lighting up as the crinkles around his eyes and the slight dimples in his cheeks creased under the force of his obvious pleasure. “Thank you. She’s my pride and joy. You ready? Oh, wait, you should put your address into my phone before we get going,” he laughed.

You nodded, taking the offered phone from him. Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you took it, and a tiny thrill passed through you that you did your best to quash. With your address plugged in and a route home waiting to be followed, you handed it back to him and looked up into his handsome, rugged face as he smiled.

“Cheers. Let’s go,” he said, and you trailed along beside him over to his bike, heartbeat thudding in your ears with your nerves.

He swung a leg over and turned the key, then pushed the bike upright and nudged the side-stand in with his left foot before flicking the switch and bringing the bike to life. She growled beautifully, the low, thundering rumble of her engine sounding far more visceral and primal than your brother’s sports bike did. Perhaps it was the design of the lower-slung Bonneville, with its visible parts that made you think of a Steampunk aesthetic, but you instantly preferred it. Plus, the double seat looked way more cushioned — and less precarious — than the one you’d perched on to get to the cafe that morning.

Oats got himself comfy while you slid your helmet on, then he looked over his shoulder at you and nodded, so you took that as your cue and got settled on the pillion seat behind him. The footpegs were already down. The pulsing purr of the machine beneath you was almost enough to distract you from the fact that you were entrusting your life to a relative stranger, whom you’d never seen ride before, and as you climbed on and rested your hands politely on his shoulders, you felt a shiver travel through your whole nervous system.

“Do whatever’s comfortable for you, obviously,” Oats said over the noise of his bike, “But if you want to hold my waist — if you can actually get your arms around my middle, that is,” he chuckled self-effacingly, “— feel free. Totally up to you.”

“Thanks,” you yelled back, and, because apparently that pesky demon of confidence was still kicking around, you hugged his torso.

It was wonderful.

Slowly snaking your arms around his middle, you felt your chest press against his back and you caught the way he inhaled slowly and tried not to wonder what it meant. It felt so good to hold him that you had to remind yourself it wasn’t a hug. It was to keep you in place while a gorgeous stranger drove you home on his equally gorgeous bike. With a final thumbs-up to check you were happy, to which you replied with a nod of your head and tried not to clack your helmet against his, he pulled away and your heart leapt for the sheer joy of it.

Where the R1 was built for sleek speed and bursts of power, the Bonneville was build to be enjoyed, and oh gosh, did you enjoy every curve.

And not just the curves in the road, either.

Oats was soft, but he was solid, and the urge to rest one hand on his thick thigh was almost overwhelming, until he took the corners at just the right pace to be exhilarating without you having to worry about your safety, and you clung on instead and laughed behind the safety of your visor.

It was all over way too soon, and as the Bonneville chugged into your road like a steam train and halted outside your poky, terraced house with its quaint little kitchen garden out the front in the postage-stamp of space between the pavement and the house, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. Please don’t let this be it, you thought desperately.

You went through the motions of getting carefully off the bike without staggering or falling, and again, Oats held out his hand to help steady you. You gripped his fingers gratefully and when you gave an extra little squeeze to his hand at the end, you could have sworn he answered with one of his own and a throaty chuckle.

He dismounted too, which surprised you, and you wondered if you were going to have to ask him inside. As much as you wanted that in principle, you desperately didn’t want it to happen today because the house was a mess: laundry was still hanging up all over the place, and you’d cooked a curry the previous night and it was definitely still lingering in the air.

Oats took off his helmet but left his bike idling, which went a little way to reassuring you, and when you looked more closely at his expression, you thought you saw a hint of something familiar lingering in the corners of his eyes. Was he nervous?

Swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the thick, 5 o’clock shadow that looked like it lingered pretty constantly no matter the time of day, Oats took a deep breath, held it, and then smiled at you. “Fuck,” he exhaled, and laughed. “I’m… very rusty at all this.” He held his helmet in both hands before him, toying with the strap.

“If I gave you my number, would you maybe like to meet up again?” you asked, taking pity on the man.

“Very much,” he said softly. “Like I said, Natalie is with her mum for the holidays, and apart from a wedding I’m covering next week, this is a pretty slow time of year for me. I’m free… mostly whenever.”

The reminder that he had a daughter with someone else did make you wonder what you were letting yourself in for. Children weren’t really something you had any expense of, since neither you nor your brother had shown any parental inclinations yet, and you weren’t particularly close to your cousins who had small kids.

“Ok, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.”

That done, he slid his phone back into his pocket and zipped it up, biting gently at his lower lip for a moment. “I know it’s bold,” he said, “But may I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped and soared. Breathless, you looked up at him and whispered, “Yes.”

His tiny, gentle, lopsided smile heralded the kiss’ approach, and he took your jaw delicately in one, leather-gloved hand as he leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft but insistent against yours, and you answered with a little moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

He groaned, pulling you closer with a low growl so that you were pressed flush against him for a moment before he stepped back and exhaled roughly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating inches above the ground.

You watched him re-mount his bike and adjust himself a little once he was settled, then he revved it playfully for you, and rode away after a final look back at you. He flipped his visor down as he pulled away, and you watched the bike and its rider disappear down the road.

‘Soon’ couldn’t come soon enough… 

__

I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, please consider showing your support by reblogging. It really is the best (and totally free!) way to help the artists and writers whose work you enjoy.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Patreon

#oats the kelpie #monster romance #kelpie #male kelpie x female human #full moon motorcycles #supernatural biker group #plus size female reader #plus size reader #male kelpie x female reader #male monster x female reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #dadbod monster #dadbod #single father monster #monster dad

[supercap2319]

"Tell me, Y/N. You and Sammy have that vanilla-y, girly shit kind of relationship don't you?" Dean gave him an inquisitive look through sips of his beer. It was just the two of them in the bunker alone.

Sam and Cas were on a food run, so it was just Dean, and Sam's Charmed One witch boyfriend sitting at the table together. Y/N was researching up a spell that used henbane, wolfsbane, and gypsy's blood on Sam's laptop.

"What do you mean by 'vanilla-y?'"

"Holding hands. Cuddles in bed. Sammy crying his way through sex. That kind of shit." Dean smiled.

"Well, he and I do hold hands, but he likes to play rough in bed. Likes to tie me to his bed, and edge me for hours till I'm begging him to let me cum. There was also the time he tied to the hood of the Impala, and he fucked me with his big moose cock until he scratched the paint job." Y/N smiles.

"Son of a bitch! You did what on my baby?"

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #sam winchester #Sam Winchester x male reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #jared padalecki #Jared Padalecki x male reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Baron: Now, which of us will be the object of your attraction?

Harem Reader: Hmm, wow... what great options, this is going to be so hard

Travis: Oh, sisters, I'm back from investigating.

Reader: HELLO SAILER 😍

Baron: Psst, hey - if you have a crush on anyone and want to spill I'm all ears. I won't even be that pissed if it's not me-

Harem Reader: That Travis guy is kinda cute....

Baron: I fucking knew it. Outta the way, Pigeon - he's mine [pushes Alasdair out of the way as he opens and crawls out of a window]

Alasdair: You mean that detective who wears the same shirt for days and had a breakdown in his car because you let him keep a coffee mug?

Harem Reader: Yea, I guess so-

Alasdair: ...Excuse me, I forgot to pick up something I needed for tonight from the store [calmly walks out the front door - pulling his sword from his belt as it closes]

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #supernatural harem #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert

[godjustkys]

| mdni 18+

| SUPERNATURAL headcanons

please give requests.

-----------------------------

RATED: NSFW

-----------------------------

STATUS: You're already in a relationship.

-----------------------------

Request: none, I wrote it myself on February 23rd.

-----------------------------

Dean:

1 - He might not admit it, but god does he love being bent over;

2 - He is SO FUCKING LOUD. When he's on top, he mostly groans, occasionally moans, but when he's on bottom,, the whimpers, whines and moans that escape his mouth is unbelievable;

3 - Praise him and he's on his knees for you;

4 - If you EVER put on a cowboy costume and you have the cowboy boots on... he's hot and bothered the moment he lays his eyes on you;

5 - LOVES pulling on your hair during intercourse;

6 - If the two of you are having sex and he's overwhelmed, he'll grab a pillow to hold onto or grip the sheets;

7 - You two have fucked in the back of Baby.. per Dean's request.. (surprisingly.);

8 - Once, in the heat of the moment, you started facefucking Dean while he was giving you a blowjob and ever since that happened, it's been his favourite thing about sex;

9 - You manhandling him is his guilty pleasure;

10 - At the start of the relationship, Dean believed that it would kind of be a switch-switch situation during sex. When you fucked for the first time, Dean was riding you and his legs started shaking. At that moment, he was thinking about getting off of you, but when you grabbed his hips and made him ride you up until the end, he gave up on that thought.

-----------------------------

Sam:

1 - He is not loud at all. Sure, a couple moans here and there but it's mostly just heavy breathing or grunts. Unless he's overstimulated;

2 - Whenever he's horny, he won't make it clear to you. He just gets all grumpy and grouchy;

3 - Unlike Dean, when he's overwhelmed, he'll hold onto you. And he'll scratch the living hell out of your back;

4 - If you mess with his hair during sex, so much as pull on it, he will moan;

5 - Once, when Sam got back from a hunt with an unconscious Dean, you scolded him and he got hard. (involuntarily);

6 - Sam insisted on trying mirror sex - lo and behold, he had his face buried in the sheets for the majority of it (when you didn't hold his head up). Why? He was embarrassed;

7 - During a hunt, Sam got really grumpy. You had to do something about it because Dean's taunting demeanour would set him off immediately, so you just dragged Sam into the bathroom, when Dean was out, for a quickie. It worked wonders;

8 - You had a habit of not caring about shortness of breath when kissing, so when you first made out with Sam, he thought he was gonna pass out. (He was overreacting, he was nowhere close to passing out);

9 - He LOVES it when you're bold and straightforward, it turns him on so much;

10 - His whole body starts shaking due to pleasure if you focus on his chest and neck too much.

-----------------------------

Castiel:

1 - If he's in the mood for it, he won't tell you. He will just stare at you until you figure it out yourself;

2 - If there is a moment when Castiel doesn't put his hands on your chest or stare at it, consider it a miracle;

3 - He cannot comprehend why he can't form coherent sentences during intercourse. He says "it must be some kind of curse". In reality, he's just too into it to care enough about speaking properly, but he does not realize it;

4 - Castiel does not realize how much you being rough with him turns him on. Degrade him for a couple seconds and he's hard;

5 - During sex, he holds onto you so tightly with his hands that a lot of the time, they leave bruises. Once, he noticed them and asked what happened. When you told him that they were from him, he just looked at you confused and said: "I never hit you?";

6 - Even though you being rough riles him up a lot, he prefers soft and gentle sex.

7 - When the four of you, you, Sam, Dean and Castiel were riding in Baby (you and Cas in the back seat), you decided to just lay your head in Castiel's lap and get comfortable. He was your boyfriend after all. It was fine at first, you even closed your eyes. Then suddenly, Castiel pushed you off. You sat up looking at him puzzled. He just gave you glare as he looked out of the window and covered his crotch. (Inconvenient places to get hard #2);

8 - He knows how mad it drives you when he gives you that soft innocent look during sex, it just makes you want to go rougher on him;

9 - He once asked you to 'rail him' without knowing what it meant. When you explained it to him, he replied with "oh, okay. So will you?";

10 - He finds your hands (minus your chest) the most attractive thing in the world. He WILL stare at your hands during intercourse because he wants them on him 24/7.

-----------------------------

A/n: if you want any of these headcanons to be made into a oneshot, please let me know. <3

#male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #castiel x reader #castiel x you #headcanon #request

[sweetenerobert]

𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄

DAY THREE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

dean winchester x vampire!male reader

genre: vampire au, explicit, minors dni

prompt: vampire au + "i can see how badly you want this, so i'm going to make sure you get it."

summary: trying to remember the last five hours of what happened after your transformation, you suddenly remember having sex with a stranger and you try to retrace your steps

warning: strong language, mention of blood, mention of dying. unprotected P in A, dirty talk, oral (m giving/m receiving), pet names, spanking, choking, creampies

word count: 2.3k

a/n: TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY?? yep! if this seems rushed my apologies.

The night sky cascaded down on you as you were shivering. The night was beautiful, but it was cold as each step you took made everything feel like you were walking closer to death.

Your blue work shirt is coated in your blood — near where your collarbone and shoulder blade rested. Your black and white canvas shoes have drops of blood on them. Tears running down your face had dried up. You hated this feeling — you felt the after-effects of coming back alive after getting your throat ripped out. This process was painstakingly slow. And you were scared — scared that you may never be the same again, scared that you might do something to hurt someone. You needed guidance from someone — anyone could help you forget about the stressful night you had.

You hear a car engine behind you, and you want to hide from the person driving behind you, but you are too weak to even jump into the bushes next to you, so you keep slowly walking. Your emotions wanted to come out; you wanted to cry a river right now. And you didn't understand everything currently, and it freaked you out how bad you wanted to cry.

The car’s engine was slowly creeping behind you, and you snapped your eyes shut, hoping that it would pass you; you didn’t want to be around anyone at this moment. You just wanted to walk — you had no idea where you were going, and you didn’t care as long you were away from everyone.

You slowly opened your eyes and saw the car driving past you, and you exhaled a breath you were holding. But then you felt the wind get knocked out of you as you saw the car approaching you in reverse. Feeling a mix of confusion, sadness, and rage all at once, you wanted to throw up, but you managed to keep yourself calm as the car slowly drove next to you and the passenger window was down.

“Are you okay?”

You glance to your left and see a dirty-blonde-haired man sitting in the driver's seat and glancing at you. You had to admit he was attractive, but you could be near. Your emotions were all over the place, and you didn't want some totally stranger being in the middle of that.

“Um—” You almost jump about how normal your voice sounds. It doesn't sound raspy or gruff, just your normal voice.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” You dismissed.

“Are you sure? I mean, I could take you back to my room and make sure you are safe— It’s no —”

“I’m okay, sir. Just a little out of it.” As persistent as this guy was, you didn't want him to be in the middle of this experience; you needed to be alone, not held up in some guy's room.

You suddenly hear his car screech as he stops and gets out, jogging towards you. He steps in front of you, and you halt your walking.

“Let me help — you need it. Whatever you are going through, you shouldn't go through it alone.”

You couldn't tell if the man’s tone was genuine or commanding, but you wanted to cry either way. You nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

The man guides you to his car and opens the passenger door for you. As you slip into the passenger seat, he closes the door. He was walking around the car and returning to his previous position — closing his door and looking at you. You reluctantly smile at him.

“Is that blood on your shirt?”

You glance at your shirt and look back at the man. “It’s mine?” You shrug.

You were in a motel bathroom shower, letting the water hit the top of your head as it dribbled down your body. The sadness you felt eventually disappeared as the drive here calmed you down. You found out what the name was — it was Dean. And that he was looking at his brother — younger brother, and has a love for rock music.

You weren't feeling the sadness, but you were feeling another feeling, and you couldn’t figure out what it was, and it was bugging you a bit.

The hot water weaved around your body almost like a dress made of water, and it was the heat you needed. You were sick and tired of being cold; you miss feeling warm. The soap leaving your body made a creek of bubbles and water. It almost looked majestic in your eyes, and you appreciated how it looked for a second that you were fine, but how you felt wasn't okay.

Turning the faucet off and letting the rest of the water go down the drain, your feet hitting the porcelain tile ceramic flooring as you walk towards the mirror — grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your waist. Bringing your hands towards the mirror, wiping the condensation, and seeing yourself in the mirror, hands on the porcelain sink.

You start to sniffle because of the steam messing with your nose, but you catch the scent of something you’ve never smelled before. You look around the bathroom as you try to find the source of the smell, and you can't seem to see it, but the smell intensifies as you look at the door. Whatever the smell was coming from behind the door.

You open the bathroom door, and the steam above you rises and travels along the ceiling. You see Dean looking at something in his duffle bag. You notice he’s not in the same jacket as before. He’s now wearing a flannel shirt. But with each step toward Dean, the smell becomes more intense and almost deafening in a sense.

Dean hears the floorboards creak behind him, turns around, and sees you in nothing but a towel. “Oh, hey. How was the shower?”

“It was good,” You nod.

“That’s good. I can see you're doing a lot better,” Dean nods.

“Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?”

“I don't know. But It’s almost intoxicating.”

“Huh, I wouldn't know what you're smelling. That’s how I am with pie though,” Dean chuckles.

You crack a smile and walk around Dean, and that's when the smell draws behind you. You turn your head as Dean walks towards the small table in the room.

“It’s you,” You mutter.

“What?” Dean questions.

“The smell — It’s you.”

“I stink?”

“Well, no, You smell intoxicating, and a sense a strong desire from you and — It’s lust.”

“What’s lust?” Dean asks, confused.

“What I’ve been feeling and this stupid smell and — are you horny, Dean?” You ask.

It was like a teenager who hit puberty. Dean looked defensive and scared at the same time. He didn’t know how to answer your question, so he looked at you.

You walked towards him, wanting to hear his answer, but you couldn't ask him again. You needed him to tell you. “Sorry If I overstepped my boundaries, Dean. But I would like to know.”

Dean scoffed, crossing his arms. “So what? I’ve been horny for the past couple of days. My hand isn’t helpin’ as much as I think it is.”

“You need help?”

“From who? I’ve been so busy. I can barely find the time for anyone.”

You unwrap your towel, and your cock sprung out hard as a rock, walking toward Dean, who can't seem to stop glancing at your cock. “From me, you could use me any way you want.” Days ago, you would’ve never had the confidence to tell anyone this, but this feeling sent you into overdrive, and you needed to get rid of it one way you could only think of.

Your hand finds Dean’s denim-covered cock already hard. As you rub your hand against the material, Dean inhales a breath and exhales a shaky breath. You unbutton Dean’s jeans and slide them down to his ankles. His cock leaps from the constriction his pants were torturing with. You were on your knees, and you took the tip of Dean’s cock in your mouth.

Dean slowly made his head go back as he enjoyed your warm mouth on his throbbing cock. He forgot how this felt; he hadn’t felt this relaxed in so long, and you provided him with a number one muscle relaxer.

His hips slowly start going back and forth into your mouth. You lightly gag on the tip as his thrusts hit the back of your throat. You notice Dean breathing through his plump lips; your cock throbs seeing him like this.

“Damn, baby. I’ve missed this so much,” Dean groaned.

You slip his cock out of your mouth, lick the slit of his dick, and he moans. You could taste the light pre-cum forming from it.

“Such a fuckin’ tease. I should fuck you just for that,” Dean seethed.

“I did say you could use me, so why not?” You shrug. You attempt to slide Dean’s cock inside your parted lips. He lifts you from your armpits and makes you stand up. Dean glances down at your cock and sees pre-cum leaking from your cock.

“I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it." Dean kisses you passionately as his height makes you feel safe and protected, feelings you never thought you would feel again.

Your calves hit the back of the bed frame. You sit down on the edge of the bed — breaking the kiss. “Head on the pillows, now!” Dean commanded.

You comply with his command, and on your hands and knees, you crawl towards the pillow on Dean’s bed — Dean smacking your ass as you crawl to the pillow.

Dean takes his jeans off around his ankles, boots, and flannel. As he sees you lying on your back in the middle of his bed, his cock twitches, seeing the beautiful sight before him. He crawls after you and kisses you passionately, your cocks rubbing together, making this moment more intense than it already is.

Dean’s kisses trail down from your lips to your jaw and neck. Dean starts to nibble on your neck, and you whimper in retaliation — gripping the sheets, you feel your teeth getting outstretched — making you scared a little bit. Releasing your grip makes your teeth go back into their original shape.

Dean’s lips travel to your nipples as he sucks on them and pinches your nipples as he sucks the other one.

His kisses trail lower as his mouth makes contact with your hole. His tongue becomes an explorer, and he wants to explore you more. Your moans sound like music to Dean’s ear as he grips your thighs. “You taste like fuckin’ heaven, baby boy.”

You could cum hearing Dean call you a baby boy again.

Dean crawls up back to your face and adjusts his cock. You exclaim in pleasure as Dean slides his cock deep inside you. With each inch pushing deeper inside you, your moans became the sweet song Dean yearned for. You could feel your walls getting looser and looser; your hole was aching in pleasure.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby boy. Just what I needed,” Dean grunted. Dean was clenching his teeth. It was a sight that made your cock happy. Dean’s thrust became faster and more intoxicating with each passing moment.

“Fuck, Dean. You’re hitting so deep.” Your pre cum was rubbing against your naval. “Your pussy wraps around my cock so well, baby. I can't get enough of it,” Dean breathed. Dean leans his head closer to yours and kisses your lips more rough than gentle like last time.

Dean slides his cock out of you and flips you to lay on your stomach. You grip the pillows as he slides his cock in you — slowly.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” You moaned.

“Only the best for my baby boy.”

Dean’s thrust becomes more intoxicating as you feel his balls clap against your ass. Dean makes a handprint on your ass — you yelp in response. You bring your head up, Dean wraps his arm around your neck, and you both share a passionate make-out between thrusts. You moan into each other’s mouths as you feel Dean’s cock twitch inside you.

“Baby, I’m going to overflow your ass with my cum,” Dean growls. Dean lets your neck go but pushes your head onto the pillow. You roll your head to the side to avoid suffocating. Your body starts to slide down, and you stop at an absolute point. The tip of your cock starts rubbing against the sheets, and you feel the lust almost shoot out of you.

“Dean, my cock — you're making my cock rub against the sheets,” You whimpered.

“Good, we get to cum together then, baby,” Dean growled.

You feel Dean’s cock get bigger inside you, and the throbbing intensifies. Dean’s thrust becomes more demon-like, and you're enjoying every thrust. You didn't want it to end this soon. Your teeth were feeling outstretched again, but you ignored it. You left your teeth stretched, and you bit down on the pillow.

“Fuck, baby boy. I’m cumming. I’m cummin’, baby boy!” You could feel his cum shoot inside you as you shoot strings of cum on the sheets under you. Dean clashes his hard chest on your back. “Thanks for that, baby boy.”

“Who said it has to end there? I told you that you could use me. I didn't specify for how long.” You turn your head to see a smirking Dean. “Well, then, you better get that pretty ass up. I’m going to fuck you against the wall.”

“That’s what happened hours ago?”

“Yeah?” Theo, your vampire “trainer” friend.

“Wow, does that happen to a lot of new vampires?” You ask.

Theo nods. “But, you should’ve seen me when I first turned.”

“Is that a story for another day?” You question.

“Hell yes.” Theo laughs.

“I would love to hear it then.” You smile.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x vampire!male reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x male reader #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester smut #haunted hoedown

[mggsv]

Diner Boy

m!reader x dean winchester (18+)

summary: he’s a regular, comes often but there’s never really a pattern. he sits with his brother, Sam, you learned. sometimes they’re smiling and having a good time, other times they look like they’ve just fought, but no matter what- they always sit together, and today you’ve caught his eye- Dean.

warnings: car sex, hair pulling, overstimulation

“He’s staring at you…” Your work friend, Charlie, had said. You were standing at the counter sorting the tickets. It wasn’t a busy day, but it wasn’t slow either. It kept you both working, with plenty time to talk. You gave her a small look before scoffing, “You say this almost everyday Char.”

“Well yes, but, Sam and Dean don’t come here everyday.” You catch her eye as she motioned over to the table she just came from not too long ago. “You are very pretty..you get mistaken for a girl often-“

“I don’t want to talk about that. And besides,” you pick up a tray of food, fit for another table, “I’m sure they’re staring at you, you just like girls and don’t take interest.” You give her a wink while she starts to giggle.

It was true, though. He was staring at you. Your beautiful frame, your curly hair fanning around your face, your perfect lips that pulled into a smile whenever you interacted with the tables to catered to for the night. Dean was watching, and you felt his gaze.

You could hardly work. His eyes made your legs week, and your pants tight. You felt hot but there was no sweat. Your hands shook while taking orders. You knew what you wanted, what your body screamed at you to take before the chance of a lifetime slipped away.

Your shift ended roughly at 10. You’re tired, body aching. You take off your apron before saying your goodbye’s to your coworkers. Charlie had left an hour before. It was raining outside, it made you groan. As much as you loved the rain, you walked to work, and walking in the rain meant an umbrella you didn’t have. “Need a lift?” you hear a voice behind you, a familiar one at that, his voice. Dean. You hear yourself chuckle, turning around to look at his tall frame. “No.”

“No? It’s raining like hell out here and you have no umbrella, and you say “no”?” He’s leaning against the glass frame of the wall. He bore a small grin, but those eyes..those eyes said so much more. You felt it. They trailed your body down to your hips, and rested before making their way back up to your eyes.

“Yeah.” you cleared your throat. “And if you’re done..” you look away, staring at the rain pour harder. The droplets beginning to splash against your legs and his boots. Dean moves closer, the soft clack of his shoes perfectly in sync with the rain. Where was Sam, you had wondered. “Do you..need a ride?” He asked again, lowly, fit only for you.

“…yes.”

the walk back to Dean’s beautiful car felt like forever. He shielded you from the rain, his brown leather jacket over your frame. His arm wrapped around your shoulder securely like you were the most precious thing in the world at that moment, protected..

“ha….ha fuck.” Your hand was lost into his short locs of hair, gripping on what you could. You breathed heavily into the small space of Baby’s backseat, suffocated. Dean held your waist, cock disappearing into your hole for what seemed like the hundredth time this night. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, sweaty forehead rested against your shoulder. “Dean..” you moan.

He shuddered, bottoming out inside of you. Your cock leaked against his stomach. You were so closed it rubbed just up against it in the right of ways. Your breathes came to a shuddering halt. Your heart seemed to drop into your stomach, and a clean wash fell over you. Your hands found their way to Deans shoulder, squeezing as you rode out another orgasm, your seed shooting lazily across you and Dean’s stomach. “You feel so good baby..” He groans. His hands tightened the grip onto your waist. While your body relaxed against his own, he sped up. Your body moved quickly against Dean’s thick cock. “So fuckin’ good.”

Your body rolled against his. Your legs felt tight, you tried your best but your body shook to its core. “Dean-“ You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder. He hit that spot inside of you so well…You couldn’t help the helpless whimper falling from your lips. “Almost there.” Dean grunts, failing to notice Sam’s name flash across his buzzing phone.

#dean winchester #male reader #supernatural #sam winchester #winchester #dean x reader #dean x castiel #dean winchester x male reader #m reader #dean winchester supernatural #m!reader #male #dean winchester smut #castiel #lgbt #dean #baby supernatural #sam #sam and dean

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Y/N: Lucifer won’t come out of his room!

Gabriel: Just tell him I said something.

Y/N: Like what?

Gabriel: Anything factually incorrect.

Y/N, shrugging: If you say so.

Lucifer, arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

#spn incorrect quotes #archangel!reader #michael x sister!reader #gabriel x sister!reader #angel!reader #michael #gabriel #spn michael #spn gabriel #spn crack #incorrect spn quotes #supernatural x reader #spn imagine #source: incorrect quotes generator #reader insert #female reader #male reader #gn reader #lucifer #lucifer x sister!reader #spn lucifer

[supernaturalscribe67]

Wicked Desires

Words: 5,574

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Language, suggestive content, angst, semi-smut???

Summary: The reader and Crowley had been together for a while, and had planned on keeping their relationship a secret from the reader's brothers. What happens when Sam and Dean accidentally stumble upon something they aren't supposed to see?

Request:

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Sam and Dean finding out their older brother is going out with Crowley?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: This was only supposed to be 1,800 words, what happened??? I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope I did your request and Crowley justice! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The chill fall air nipped at (Y/N)’s skin, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he exited the Impala. Pain shot through his ankle and up his leg when he stepped onto his right foot. He winced and let out a deep hiss as he reached over and held onto the top of the car for support. Sam got out of the car and was quick to move next to him. He wrapped an arm around his torso while placing (Y/N)’s arm around his shoulders. Sam shook his head. 

“I told you not to step in front of me. I could have taken that vamp out,” he said. 

(Y/N) let out a deep chuckle. His chest rumbled. “The vamp was going low and you were swinging high. You were lucky I did get in there, otherwise, he would have hit your leg like he did mine.” 

“I could have handled it.” 

“I know you could have, kid.” 

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname and assisted (Y/N) with walking to the motel door. Dean got out of the driver’s seat, got out the room key, and opened the door. He shook his head as well. He stepped to the side and let his brothers into the room. 

“Sam’s right, (Y/N),” Dean began as Sam led (Y/N) into the room and helped him sit on the bed furthest from the door. “You have to let us take some hits once in a while. It can’t just be you getting hurt out there.” 

(Y/N) let out a sigh. He lifted his injured foot onto the bed while the other rested against the tattered carpet. “You guys need to stop worrying about me. I’m fine, okay? It’s just a sprained ankle. I’ve had worse, nothing I can’t handle.” 

“And I could have handled it, too, if you would have let me take him out.” Sam placed his hands on his hips. 

“Trust me, Sammy, it’s a lot harder to lug your big ass through the door than it is mine. Besides, that’s what big brothers are for. They’re supposed to protect you. You took the vamp out right after he got me, so we’re good. No harm, no foul.” 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but let out a sigh instead, finding it useless to argue. He ran a hand down his face and turned away. Dean just silently stared at (Y/N), jaw clenched ever so slightly. (Y/N) licked his lips. 

“Look, the hunt went fine. If the only thing we get out of it is a sprained ankle, then I’m okay with it! The vampires are dead, we’re all tired, and, I don’t know about you guys, but my stomach has been speaking in tongues ever since we got in the car. Why don’t you boys go and get us something to eat at that diner we saw down the road while I get cleaned up?” 

Hesitantly, Sam and Dean nodded their heads. Sam began to walk towards the door while Dean kept looking at his older brother. (Y/N) raised his brows. 

“Dean, I’m fine. Really. Like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. I’m not even bleeding anywhere. The blood on my shirt isn’t even mine.” (Y/N) explained. 

“I know…” Dean trailed. “But, believe me, we’re gonna talk about this when we get back.” Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket as he pointed at him. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, just go get the food.” 

“Double cheeseburger?” 

“Hell yeah, extra greasy,” (Y/N) mumbled and licked his lips, already able to feel his mouth begin to water. 

Dean shook his head before he followed Sam out of the room, the heavy wooden door closing roughly behind them. (Y/N) let out a tired breath of air as soon as he was alone. He stood, making sure to keep the weight off of his right foot as he did so. He needed to get cleaned up. 

He stripped from his clothes, tossing them onto the black duffel that rested half-hazardly over one of the side chairs. When his clothes were discarded, he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He flicked on the switch for the light, the whirring of the vent fan filling his ears. He turned on the shower, checked to make sure that the temperature of the water was to his liking, then stepped in. Immediately, he could feel all of the aching muscles in his body relax. (Y/N) always loved getting the first shower after a hunt, the water was fresh and warm and guaranteed a better clean. 

He didn’t take long in the shower, he wanted to make sure that his brothers had some hot water for when they got clean as well. He stepped out, grabbed one of the heavily used off-white towels, and wrapped it around his waist. He tied it at the corner and walked out of the room. The chill from the drastic change in temperature allowed goosebumps to appear on his arms and legs, the hair on the back of his neck standing tall. 

(Y/N) went over to his duffel bag. He sorted his dirty clothes into one side of the bag, then grabbed a clean pair of boxers. He put them on underneath the towel before he tossed it to the side. As he took out the rest of the clothes he was going to wear that night, he felt a slight shift in the atmosphere. He froze. It was silent, but the air felt heavier, almost warmer. 

“Hello, love,” the deep, familiar, accented voice spoke. 

(Y/N) allowed his tense shoulders to relax as he turned. A smirk appeared on his face as he saw Crowley standing there, clad in his usual attire. Crowley eyed him. 

“Damn,” Crowley shook his head. “I knew I should have popped in a little sooner. Maybe I could have joined you for a shower.” 

(Y/N) chuckled as he limped over to him. “Aren’t you a charmer?” He questioned as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Crowley’s. 

They shared a brief, chaste kiss before pulling away. Crowley’s hand reached up and gently caressed (Y/N)’s cheek. His thumb brushed against his jawline as his gaze shifted down to (Y/N)’s feet. 

“I see the hunt didn’t go so well,” he observed. 

“The hunt went fine,” (Y/N) grumbled and went back over to his duffel bag. “I got the worst of it, and it’s just a sprain. Nothing too severe.” 

“You did it to save one of your brothers again, didn’t you?” 

(Y/N) hesitated, the silence answering Crowley’s question for him. Crowley shook his head in disappointment as he walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“You know, those two idiots can handle themselves, right?” 

“We’re not going to discuss this. I’ve already explained; I’m their brother, and I have a right to defend them as I see fit.” 

“You always defend them.” 

“I always see fit.” 

(Y/N) picked up his t-shirt and went to place his arms inside before Crowley stopped him. He looked at Crowley for a moment. He could see the wicked glimmer hiding behind his eyes. 

“Leave it off,” Crowley’s voice was deep and seductive. 

Crowley leaned in and pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s. That kiss was slower, passionate, and heated. Crowley’s hands wandered down (Y/N)’s body to his hips. (Y/N) reached around and cupped the back of Crowley’s head, his fingers entangled in Crowley’s short mess of brown hair. His other hand rested against his chest, his fingertips caressing the smooth fabric of his tie. 

When they parted, (Y/N) let out a heavy breath. Meanwhile, Crowley moved his lips to (Y/N) jaw and down to his neck. (Y/N) tilted his head to the side as he pulled Crowley closer. 

“Sam and Dean are going to be back any minute.” He mumbled. 

“That gives us more of a reason to spend as much time together as possible.” 

“Do you think we have time?” 

“Do you?” Crowley pulled himself away from (Y/N), looking into his eyes. 

(Y/N) stared at him momentarily before his eyes shifted to the bed closest to them, then, finally, to the door. He wasn’t too sure how much time had elapsed since he had gotten in the shower, nor how long it would take for Sam and Dean to get back. His mind was clouded with lust and desire, and the only thing that he could focus on was Crowley. 

“Bed,” (Y/N) breathed as his hands made quick work to dispose of Crowley's suit jacket.

The fabric fell onto the floor as they made their way over to the bed, their lips connecting once again. The back of (Y/N)’s knees hit the side of the bed and he fell back onto it, his body bouncing from the force. Crowley was quick to climb on top of him. They kissed harder that time, desperately. While Crowley’s hands roamed around (Y/N)’s bare chest, (Y/N) was focused on taking as many layers off of Crowley as possible. 

Crowley’s tie was the first to go as it joined the jacket on the floor, followed by Crowley’s belt, pants, and shirt. When both men were only wearing their boxers, they moved up the length of the bed until (Y/N) felt the pillow hit the back of his head. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed you,” (Y/N) growled between kisses. 

Crowley chuckled. “I could tell, love. I missed you, too. Do you know how hard it is to find time alone with you when you are always on the road?” Crowley moved back and began to leave small, butterfly kisses down his chest. “How hard it is to keep my eyes off of you every time your brothers summon me?” Crowley’s lips trailed down his pecs towards his stomach. “How often I want to remind you who you belong to?” 

Crowley’s fingers began to play with the waistband of (Y/N)’s boxers. (Y/N) let out a needy whine. 

“Crowley, please,” he breathed. 

Crowley smirked as he looked up at him. “You beg so deliciously, darling.” 

Before either of them could move an inch, the door to the motel room opened. Dean was the first to walk in. When his gaze landed on the bed, he quickly went to cover his eyes with his hand. 

“Woah, sorry, (Y/N), didn’t know you-” he froze, eyes wide as he saw the person on the bed with his brother. 

Dean’s hand slowly lowered as he took in the scene. (Y/N) was resting on his back, a horrified look of shock present on his face. Crowley sat between (Y/N)’s legs, his fingers still hooked onto the waistband of his boxers. Sam entered after Dean and, before he could say anything, he stopped. His eyes, too, widened. A sly smirk slowly appeared on Crowley’s lips. 

“‘Ello boys,” he said, his voice breaking the heavy silence. 

Soon, Dean’s expression turned from shock to anger. His fists were clenched at his sides. “What the hell are you doing to my brother?” He growled out as he took a couple of steps closer to the bed. 

Crowley simply sat up on the bed, moving towards the edge. (Y/N) was quick to move between Dean and Crowley. He held his hands up. 

“Dean! Stop!” (Y/N) spoke in a booming voice. 

“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Dean tried to push past (Y/N), but he held his ground. 

(Y/N) stood from the bed and placed a hand on Dean’s chest. “Dean!” 

Dean turned his attention from Crowley to (Y/N). His jaw clenched as he pushed (Y/N)’s hand off of him and turned back towards the door. He ran his hand down his face. The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Everyone stood in an uncomfortable silence. 

What broke the silence was the sharp sound of snapping fingers. Everyone turned to look at Crowley. (Y/N) had expected him to leave, but he was surprised to see that Crowley was still sitting there, fully dressed in the outfit that he had appeared in. (Y/N) turned back to look at his brothers. Sam and Dean stood side by side. Both of them were sending deadly glares towards him. If looks could kill, (Y/N) would be dead…again. 

(Y/N) took that moment to limp over towards his duffel bag. He got out the T-shirt and put it over his head. When it was on, he smoothed it out over his torso and limped back over to the bed. He sat next to Crowley, who had been watching (Y/N)’s movement the entire time. Once he was settled, Sam and Dean moved away from the door until they were standing in front of Crowley and (Y/N). 

“Care to explain what the Hell is going on here?” Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

(Y/N) placed his elbows onto his knees, back slouched as he leaned forward. His eyes were cast down towards the floor. He felt like a child being scolded by his parents. Crowley glanced over at him before he opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off by Dean. 

“If you say one word, I will stab you, do you understand?” Dean said between clenched teeth. 

Crowley closed his mouth and held his hands up in surrender. (Y/N) shook his head and clasped his hands together. 

“Crowley and I…” he trailed. “Are together.” 

“Together?” Dean raised his brows. 

“As in together-together?” Sam added. 

(Y/N) nodded. 

Sam let out a sigh and shook his head. Dean shuffled in his spot. 

“And…how long has this been going on?” 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment. His eyes were still cast down towards the ground. He couldn’t even look his brothers in the eyes. He felt ashamed. He had kept his relationship with Crowley from Sam and Dean for a while, and it was something that he never wanted to come to light. He knew this was how Dean and Sam were going to react. Crowley was a demon after all. The King of Hell to be exact. Their relationship was forbidden to begin with. Still, he couldn’t help his feelings for Crowley. 

“How long, (Y/N),” Dean growled out. 

“A year.” (Y/N) replied softly. 

“A year,” Dean repeated. “A year. You’ve been screwing around with Crowley for a fucking year!? Was this before or after all the shit that he did to us? Are we even talking about the same Crowley here?” 

“Dean, listen,” (Y/N) stood from the bed. 

“No, you listen,” Dean stepped forward so that he was merely inches away from (Y/N), his finger pointed at his chest. “I don’t know what kind of fantasy relationship you think you have, but Crowley is using you.” 

“I’m right here,” Crowley mumbled. 

“You shut your-” Dean lunged for Crowley. 

“Dean!” (Y/N) grabbed the collar of Dean’s shirt to hold him back. “Crowley’s different, okay? He’s changed. He cares about me and, dammit, I care about him.” 

Dean looked at (Y/N) in disbelief. He scoffed and turned his back on him. As he ran his fingers through his hair, Sam took a step forward. He was visibly more calm than Dean was. 

“(Y/N), you know how Crowley is, you’ve seen what he can do.” He shook his head. 

“You guys don’t know anything!” (Y/N) shook his head rapidly. “You know all those demon hunts we’ve been on this year? You wanna know how we got all of the information so quickly? It wasn’t because of me like you thought.” He gestured dramatically to his chest. “It was because of Crowley! He was the one that gave me the information, he was the one that led us to every single one of those demon hideouts and let us get out of there as quickly as we did.” 

“Yeah, and he’s just going to use that as an excuse for you to do favors for him,” Dean’s attitude was dripping from his voice at that point. “You’re supposed to be our big brother. You’re supposed to be protecting us from monsters like him, not sleeping with them!” 

“That’s bullshit!” (Y/N) exclaimed. 

“No, you wanna know what’s bullshit? The fact that we trusted you! The fact that you thought you would be able to pull the wool over our eyes. How the hell are we supposed to trust you now? How do you expect us to sleep in the same room, let alone the same building as someone who would betray us like this?” 

(Y/N) tilted his head to the side. “What are you saying?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Dean paused and licked his lips. “I want you out.” 

“Dean,” Sam began. 

“No, Sam.” Dean held a hand up. “(Y/N) made his bed…now he can sleep in it.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slumped. “You’re kicking me out? I’m your brother, Dean.” 

“You were my brother. Now I don’t know who you are anymore.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Oh, I do. I do mean it. You can get out. Now.” 

(Y/N) stared at Dean as he looked down at the floor. (Y/N)’s eyes moved to Sam, who was also looking at the floor for a moment before he turned his back on him. (Y/N) slowly nodded. 

“Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll leave.” 

(Y/N) limped past Sam and Dean and towards his bag. He grabbed his last pair of clean pants and put them on. He put on some socks and his boots before closing up his duffel. He slung it over his shoulder. He made his way towards the door and stopped for a moment. He looked back at Sam and Dean. Their backs were turned to him. Crowley had stood from his spot on the bed and began to make his way over to him. With a faint nod, (Y/N) opened up the motel room door and left. 

It had been six months since (Y/N) left the bunker. At first, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had made it his goal in life to protect his little brothers at all costs, but when they wanted him to leave, he felt lost. He began to hunt on his own, not going far from Lebanon to pick up a couple of smaller ones here and there. Then, after the third hunt, he knew that it wasn’t for him. He was never good with hunting alone. It had been a big shift going from working with two other people to working alone. 

In the end, he decided that, even though he had been banished from the bunker, he didn’t necessarily have to stop protecting Sam and Dean. He had set up shop in his car, a small two-door truck that he had snatched from a shopping center in Lincoln, Nebraska, and rested a mile down the road from the entrance of the bunker. To go the extra mile, he had picked up a tracking device from a sketchy shop in Kansas City and put it in the Impala when Sam and Dean were asleep. The device gave him alerts on his phone whenever the car was in motion. 

He followed Sam and Dean from hunt to hunt using the tracker. He made sure to keep a safe distance to not alert them. He would get a motel room, just like them, which allowed him to sleep in a real bed and take a real shower instead of sleeping in the front seat of his car and praying that he didn’t smell too bad if he had to go out in public. That was his routine; track the boys to the hunt, keep an eye on them, go back to the bunker, wait. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

The entire time, Crowley was by his side. He would pop into the front seat of the truck occasionally. They spent the time talking to one another, an attempt made by Crowley to distract (Y/N) from everything that was going on in his head. At times it worked, but there were instances when (Y/N) just wanted to be by himself. He could tell that he was pushing Crowley away, but Crowley seemed persistent. He would bring (Y/N) food when he was hungry, and there were even moments when Crowley tried to urge him to make up with his brothers. (Y/N) always rejected the idea. No matter how much he wanted to be back with his brothers, they seemed happier without him. He would let them have their peace, even if he didn’t have his. 

Around April, (Y/N) tracked Sam and Dean to a small town in the lower part of South Dakota. Having read up on the reports, he realized that they were dealing with vampires. As a result of his recon, he concluded that it wasn’t just a couple of vampires that his brothers would be going against. It would be a whole nest. He estimated about ten vampires, and that was just the ones that he had seen pass outside and in the windows of the farmhouse that they were held up in. (Y/N) was nervous. It was too big of a job for them to do on their own. 

But (Y/N) knew how hard-headed Dean was. 

They were going into the nest guns blazing. 

(Y/N) couldn’t have that. 

For the first time in months, he had decided to make himself known. Later the next night, (Y/N) followed about a mile behind the Impala back to the farmhouse. He waited a couple of minutes before he exited his truck. He walked up to the house, machete in hand tight in his grasp. As he made his way, slowly, onto the porch, he caught a glimpse at some of the corpses that were around the perimeter. When he walked up the porch, he was able to see the front door kicked in and the sound of combat became louder. He took a deep breath before he rushed into the house. 

It was absolute carnage. Dark red blood decorated the floors and walls throughout the cramped foyer and bodies lay askew in various positions across the aged wood. (Y/N) stepped over the bodies as he made his way through the house towards the sound of fighting. Past the living room, he could see the chaos that was present in the small kitchen. The dining table had been flipped over, cabinets were broken off of their hinges, and blood splattered the discolored tile.

Dean lay on the floor, his hands held behind his back, machete across the room. Two vampires stood over him. One of them had their mouth agape, their sharp fangs glimmering in the moonlight. Sam was on the opposite side of the kitchen, a larger, stalkier vampire holding him against the wall, his forearm pressed into Sam’s throat. His fangs were out and they were inches away from Sam’s neck. 

All (Y/N) saw was red. 

(Y/N)’s movements were swift. One would never imagine that he had been out of the hunting game for months. One wouldn’t even imagine he was human. The way he moved, decapitating each of the vampires that held his brothers hostage, was almost ghostly. Their heads rolled on the floor, clumped together in a small pile in the center of the kitchen. (Y/N) didn’t even give the vampires a chance to react. 

By the time the threat was eliminated, (Y/N)’s clothes and face were splashed in blood. The only sound that filled the room was the pants that fell from each of their mouths. (Y/N) lowered his arm, the machete dripping with blood onto the stained floor. He reached down, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and wiped the blood from his face, pinching his lips shut as he did so. When he pulled the shirt away, he could see that Sam and Dean were staring at him, their eyes wide. 

Sam glanced down at Dean. Dean let out a grunt as he struggled to get up. Sam rushed over to his side and helped him up. When Dean went to put pressure on his right foot, he winced. He reached over and held onto one of the countertops for support before he and Sam turned and looked at their older brother again. Sam’s face was covered in an expression of disbelief. 

“(Y/N)?” Sam breathed. 

(Y/N) slowly lifted his arms. “In the flesh,” he mumbled before lowering them once more. He looked between Sam and Dean. “Look, I know that I’m the last person you want to see, but,” 

(Y/N) was interrupted when Sam pulled him into a tight embrace, his arms roughly wrapped around him. (Y/N) raised his brows in shock and hesitantly hugged him back. It had been so long since he had seen his brothers up close, let alone hugged them, that the emotions started to bubble up inside of him. With the adrenaline wearing off, he could feel the familiar prickle of tears appear in the corner of his eyes. He never realized just how much he missed his little brothers. 

When Sam pulled away, he had a small smile on his face. “Uh, how have you been? It’s been-” 

“Six months. I’ve kept track,” (Y/N) mumbled as he looked down at his machete. He reached over and placed it on one of the counters. 

“How the hell did you find us?” Dean grunted. 

(Y/N) lifted his head to look at him. Dean was fully leaning against the counter, his right foot lifted off of the ground. One of his hands was pressed against his side while the other one rested against the granite. 

“I put a tracker on Baby,” He answered. 

“You what?” 

“Put a tracker on your car. I’ve been following you guys for months.” 

“Why?”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Because I told myself the day that mom died that I was going to protect you guys no matter what. No matter how much you two pissed me off or I pissed you two off. You’re my little brothers, and it’s my job to look after you. To make sure you guys are alive and kicking, and if I wouldn’t have been here…” he shook his head. “I don’t think I would have been able to forgive myself if I just walked away.” 

“(Y/N)...” Sam trailed. 

“I know, I told you guys I would leave and I did. And, if you want, I’ll be out of here after this. We can get in our cars, go our separate ways, and we never have to see each other again. I don’t want that to happen, but I’ll respect your wishes if that’s what you want. Before I go, though, let me tell you this; 

“I understand how upset you guys were when you found out about Crowley and me. I understand how much of a shock that must have been. Hell, it was a shock to me when I realized that I liked the annoying bastard, and that’s the whole reason why I kept it from you two. I knew that you would react this way and I just didn’t want there to be any bad blood between us. We’re brothers, we’re supposed to stick together. Crowley and I talked about it and he understands that you boys come first before he does. It pissed him off when he would see my injuries from protecting you on hunts, but he stopped fighting me on it a while ago. Crowley’s not the same person around you two as he is around me. Believe it or not, he’s sweet and caring, and that is something that I never thought I would be able to say about him when we first met him. 

“For my entire life, I had made it my goal to protect you guys. I never thought that I would have even a small amount of normal in my life. Granted, having a relationship with the King of Hell isn’t exactly normal, but it’s the first taste of normalcy I have ever had and I love it. I love him and he loves me. He knows my limits, and what I will and will not do for him. He’s never asked me to do anything for him and I’ve never forced him to help me. I know that you guys hate the fact that I’m with him, and if that’s something that’s stopping you from having any type of relationship with me, then I will end it with Crowley because you guys are more important to me than him. He knows this. He’s prepared for me to end everything to go back to you guys. I just don’t want to lose you both. You mean so much to me. We’ve been through so much together and I would hate to see something as stupid as a man tear us apart.” 

Sam and Dean sat in silence as they listened to (Y/N). Once he was finished, he stood up straight. Sam glanced towards the ground before he looked over at Dean. He gave a small, short nod. Sam then turned his attention back towards his oldest brother. 

“We’ve been talking…a lot,” Sam admitted. 

Dean pushed himself off of the counter and hobbled next to his little brother. “I, uh…I think I overreacted when we found out.” 

“What?” (Y/N) furrowed his brows. 

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out.” Dean shook his head. “I was just so pissed off. But Sam and I have been talking recently and, uh, he mentioned that you’ve been…happier.” 

“But it never really occurred to us that Crowley could be the reason why you were so happy all of a sudden.” Sam continued. 

“Yeah, how the Hell he makes you happy, I’m not too sure.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “But he does and…as long as you’re happy, then we’re happy.” 

“And, to be honest, we missed having our big brother with us. Hunting, just the two of us, has been fine, but…we hate taking the blunt end of all the injuries. That’s supposed to be your job,” Sam said with a small smirk in the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) felt a lump appear in his throat as he looked between Sam and Dean. Tears formed in his eyes, but he was quick to wipe them away. Without saying anything, he walked over to the two of them and wrapped his arms around them. They returned the hug, placing their hands on the top of his back. 

“I love you idiots so much,” he whispered as he blinked the tears away. 

“I love you, too.” they both replied in a voice that matched his. 

When they pulled away from the embrace, (Y/N)’s hands stayed on their shoulders. He looked between the two of them. 

“Does that mean I can come back?” He asked. “I missed my memory foam mattress.” 

Sam rolled his eyes while Dean chuckled. “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied. “And, when we get back, you can clean yourself up. You look homeless.” 

(Y/N) laughed and ran his fingers through his hair and beard, which were both longer than what he was normally comfortable with. “I don’t know. I kind of like my new look. Needs to be cleaned up, but I’m kind of digging it.” 

Dean clenched his teeth in a disgusted expression. “Whatever works for you, man,” he patted (Y/N)’s back. 

Sam chuckled. “How about we get the Hell out of here, guys? We can come back in the morning to burn the bodies.” 

“Sounds good to me.” (Y/N) nodded. “And how about some burgers? On me.” 

“You’re speaking my language, brother,” Dean smirked. “Now help me out to the damn car. That vampire did a number on me.” 

(Y/N) wrapped an arm around Dean’s torso and wrapped Dean’s arm around the back of his neck. He began to lead him outside, allowing Dean to lean against him as they stumbled over the corpses on the way out. 

It was hard being an older brother, especially when you had two younger brothers who looked up to you. (Y/N) loved Crowley more than most things, but he loved his brothers the most. It was his job to protect them. He would go to the ends of the Earth for his brothers, hunt down anyone who hurt them, and even die for them. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. When he found happiness in Crowley, he didn’t want Sam and Dean to look at him as a failure. To hear that Sam and Dean had finally accepted their relationship made (Y/N)’s heart jump for joy. He had his brothers back, and he had his lover waiting for him. 

(Y/N) could confidently say that he was the happiest man on Earth. 

#Supernatural #supernatural #SPN #spn #Supernatural x Reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #SPN x reader #Supernatural x Male!Reader #Male!Reader #SPN x Male!Reader #Winchester!Reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester #Dean Winchester #dean winchester #crowley x reader #Crowley x Reader #crowley macleod #Crowley Macleod #Crowley x Male!Reader #crowley x male!reader #supernatural scribe #supernatural imagine

[bigfan-fanfic]

Reclaim (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Could I request Dean's bf taking him out to just spend a day or two doing whatever childhood things he never got to do, no matter how much he huffs about it not being a big deal.  Just fluff and carthartic stuff, that kind of thing

A grumpy bearded man glares at you from a swingset that is far too small for him, his bowed legs bent pretty far.

"Are you happy now?"

You chuckle. "You didn't even swing."

"It's too small."

"Then go use the big boy set. Not my fault you wanted to go for the kiddie swings."

He huffs and stands indignantly.

you laugh harder. "This was kinda supposed to be fun, Dean."

"But, like... this is all kid's stuff."

"You're never too old for some of this stuff!" you cry, and pull him along to the swings. "Don't you have any fun stuff you used to do as a kid?"

"Uh... target practice with Dad?"

"Wow. Yeesh."

"What?"

"So, like... you never really got to have a childhood."

"Dude. You can't just say crap like that to someone's face. Besides, it's not a big deal. I can-"

"I know what we're doing today!"

"Oh boy."

You challenge Dean to see who can get higher on the swings before you chicken out - mainly to stop your competitive boyfriend from trying to go all the way over.

And then when you hear the tinny calliope noises of an ice cream truck you go running, calling out for Dean to come with you, and you both chase down the truck.

It's silly and stupid, but then the ice cream salesman tells you about the fair in town, and you give Dean an excited stare.

"......"

"...."

"...fine."

Dean usually doesn't get to stay in any town long enough for any local events, so a county fair is still relatively new to him.

The overwhelming amount of sight and sound is enough to burst his bubble of attempted adult disapproval, and you catch a glimpse of the goofy kid he probably would have been.

He grins, and eventually takes the lead in pulling you to the different attractions.

You gorge yourself on fried county fair food - Dean is in fried heaven, defying all the angels to come up with a food better than the fried oreo, but even his insatiable appetite can't conquer a huge funnel cake with a dollop of ice cream that won't even melt all the way on the hot day because it's so big - not without your assistance.

You make him do the petting zoo, and he tries to impress you at the dunk tank, pitching a fastball that sends some cute local guy splashing.

He wins you prizes, accepts those you win for him, and admits that it's probably just about as fun as that time his dad took him into a bar for the first time and showed him how to hustle pool.

For now, you'll take it.

He even lets you drive home, since he's tuckered himself out so much. You let him lean against you, and you grin to yourself when you hear him quietly ask-

"Can we go again tomorrow?"

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural headcanons #headcanons #male reader

[l1tw1ck]

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #bottom male character

[6lostgirl6]

Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean Winchester

TW: Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Hints of Physical Abuse, Hints of Verbal Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Isolation And Spanking As Punishment, Cursing, Manipulation. A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s a physical lover, and he doesn’t give two fucks about PDA. He’ll kiss and touch you whenever and wherever he likes. He always gives you heated, passionate kisses while grasping all over your body and pressing you up against him. When he’s really affected, he’ll growl while kissing you, and his eyes will flash black on occasion.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy. Demon Dean, at this point, is a malevolent being and will resort to more grotesque methods when it comes to his darling. Even if it means killing innocent people who look at you the wrong way or dare touch you, well, try. He’ll break the person’s bones before they even lay a finger on you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Depending on how you react to the situation, his treatment of you varies. If you behave, he'll treat you good by his definition. However, if you react badly, he's going to not react well. Yes, he’ll mock you, because we need to remember that he may love you, but that doesn't change his nature. He has a cruel sense of humor.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He’ll make you come with him on his killing sprees. You’re not a fan of blood; that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it, because that’s all you’re ever going to see besides him. Blood and carnage.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Demon Dean still has some of his old traits from when he was human. He doesn't like expressing his emotions until he trusts you enough. Which would take a long time. However, when he finally trusts you, he’ll be more open about his feelings for you. He still keeps things close to his chest, though he might never speak with you about it. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Oh, he’s pissed.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No, your relationship isn't a game to him. But getting you to fall in love with him will be like a game, and he'll triumph. It’s only a matter of time. Demon Dean wouldn't like seeing you try to escape; it would automatically anger him. He’ll lash out at you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with him would be your fights with him. He's scary when he’s angry, especially when it's towards you. He’ll practically scream in your face and manhandle you. Another thing would be him forcing you to see his killing sprees. He doesn't trust you enough to leave you on your own, so you'll have to witness his brutality.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

When it comes to your future with him, you’re stuck with him, and not even death would separate you. He’ll secretly try to uncover a way to turn you into a demon. You'll be isolated from hunters; demons wouldn't dare approach you. He’s the only thing you’ll ever need; nobody else can help you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Extremely, however, it’s not because he’s insecure; you simply belong to him and are completely off-limits. Coping, what’s that? He’s going to lash out in a violent way at the person attempting to flirt with you. He left people bloodied to a pulp on the floor before, and he has done worse.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It’s discrete, but he’s a little softer around you, and he would let you get away with small things that he wouldn’t tolerate if it were another person. As a demon, he’s not afraid to show you how deep his love runs for you. He’s clingy and always has a hand grabbing you somewhere. He’s very possessive, and he tends to keep you to himself.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When it comes to demon dean, there is no time for courting or lightly approaching you about his feelings. When he kidnapped you, there were no romantic gestures or heartfelt confessions; you simply belonged to him, and you need to get used to it.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Of course, Dean treats you differently compared to others. He’s less rough around the edge, and he does try to control his temper better around you. You’re his, and he doesn’t mistreat what belongs to him. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Depending on what you do, however, he'll simply tie you to the bedpost and keep you there until you learn your lesson. He would never intentionally hurt you, but he will force you over your lap and smack your ass until you’re begging for forgiveness. Trust me, he wouldn’t make it fun for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The better question is: how many rights would he allow you to have? All you need to do around him is eat, sleep, and look pretty for him. Misbehave, and you’re going to be chained to the bed again.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He will have zero patience with you, so you better behave for your own sake. He's not afraid of punishing you, however he sees fit, because you didn’t listen to him or try to escape. Therefore, try not to upset him too much.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he would never move on. If you died or were killed, his rampage would be talked about in Hell for centuries. If you manage to escape, it won’t last long. He’s going to get you back, whatever it takes, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Ha! Hell no. However, after being cured, he will feel horrible for how he treated you. He’ll feel ashamed that his darker feelings for you were brought to light. He really does love you, but the demonic side of him has horrible ways of showing it.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His transformation into a demon allowed his yandere tendencies to be brought to the surface. He doesn’t have to hold back his urges anymore, and why would he want to?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Of course he doesn’t like it; he prefers you being obedient and rather docile. He would never admit this, but he would want you to be happy with him, even as a demon. If you try avoiding him, he’ll keep bugging you and forcing you to talk to him. He lacks patience, so your screams and cries will only make him angrier the longer you keep having tantrums.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Demon Dean would never hurt you intentionally, especially by abusing you to make you cooperate. Sure, when he lashes out, there may be a few accidents, but that’s all they are. Accidents. 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There are two things you could use: his killing urges and/or feeding into his ego. If you want to play the waiting game, you would have to gain his trust enough to allow you to be out of his sight. Simply pretending to love him won’t be enough because he’ll see right through you. When he goes on his killing sprees, leaving you behind for once will be your chance and only chance to escape. You better protect yourself; he will find you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No matter how much he cares about you, he will hurt your feelings at times, especially when he flirts with other women in front of you. When he’s extremely angry or has the itching need to kill something, you need to stay out of his way. He will lash out at you with hurtful words and potential bruises.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Demon Dean cares about you despite who he is, and he doesn’t like upsetting you. You’re not much fun with tears in your eyes. As a demon, you’re the only one that makes him feel things—feelings he used to hide within when he was human. Anyway, he would go to the ultimate length to win you over. He’s not going to beg on his knees for your love, but he’ll show you how much he worships you in his own way. You want him to kill someone and bring you their head? He'll do it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

After Dean became a demon and left with Crowley, he didn’t take you with him at the time, no matter how much he wanted to. However, you’ve never left his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to drink your sweet voice away. You haunted him for months until he finally snapped and came after you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If Dean was never cured or you never managed a way to escape from him, he’ll find a way to break you and make you depend solely on him. Make you finally see that he is the only thing that would kill to keep you safe. One way or another, he’ll make you fall for him.

Taglist: Comment to be added/removed!!

@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @huntressandlioness1 @wraith-posts @schizonephilim

#yandere alphabet #dean winchester #demon!dean #demon dean #deanmon #yandere dean winchester #yandere demon dean #yandere!demon!Dean x reader #yandere!dean winchester #dean winchester headcanons #yandere dean winchester headcanons #yandere headcanons #yandere male #supernatural #supernatural headcanons #supernatural dean #spn #spn dean #supernatural x reader #yandere supernatural #yandere spn