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sunsburns · 3 months

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Luke Castellan losing virginity with the reader

can i kiss you?

let's push a loser!luke agenda pls pls pls guys pls see my vision he's a loser villain who just needs his dick sucked! [nsfw 17+]

the thought of luke castellan being a charming, skilled, intelligent, and mentor to most of the younger campers places him at the top of the food chain at half-blood. he’s practically the golden boy; the guy every girl wants and every boy wants to be. so, it sure does take you by surprise when he pauses at your kiss-swollen lips, brows furrowed in embarrassment as he whispers, “i haven’t… i’ve never gone this far before.”

you haven't done much. you've only palmed his crotch. he's hard to the touch, warm too.

your chest is pressed against his, luke's hands roam up and down the backs of your thighs as you sit on top of him, and he does it as if to soothe and steady himself, to have some kind of self-control while he kisses you. but at some point (maybe it's when you started running your fingers through his hair and tugged), he can't help the buck of his hips against your own.

when you dropped your hands from his hair and reached between the two of you, he pulled away, looking at you through his lashes, eyes lidded and lips parted to tell you a secret. the great luke castellan who has girls kissing the ground he walks on has never been touched before.

it makes you excited.

luke was a lot of your firsts; first love, first boyfriend. gods, he was even your first kiss years ago because of a silly dare from the aphrodite girls during a campfire night. but you never thought of yourself to be one of his firsts. you've always known luke was out of your league, so you've assumed he's far more experienced in the whole dating life and intimacy thing than you were.

but gods, were you wrong.

you could've stared at him all day, the glossy look in his eyes, and the shade of red that's started to grow on his cheeks after his admission.

"we can stop," you start to say. "we can just kiss."

suddenly the sun shining between the leaves of the trees starts to burn at your skin. you think there are peering eyes but there aren't. there can't be. you're too deep into the forest for anyone to find you and luke tucked away in a clearing of bushes filled with sweet berries.

when you move to get up, he holds onto your thighs tighter, stopping you. "no." you stare at him as his mouth opens and closes. he thinks hard about what he's about to say next. his voice drops when he tells you to stay. "please. don't stop."

you can feel a smile, well maybe more of a smirk, growing on your lips when you see the desperate look in his eyes. he pulls you closer, brushing his nose against the pulse on your neck before he licks and sucks at it.

he lets out a low, deep groan when you run your fingers through his hair again, tugging at the ends of it to pull him away. he's looking at you with those pretty doe, brown eyes.

"what do you want, luke?"

"you."

you laugh, it's soft and endearing. "yes, i know. i meant what do you want me to do for you?"

he doesn't know what to say. luke sputters. you raise your brows at this. how could it be that this is the same guy who's the best swordsman at him in the last, what, hundred years? he's melting into putty at your hands.

you lean closer and whisper in his ear, "do you want me to kiss you?"

he swallows, "yes."

"where?"

"anywhere."

you press a wet kiss by his jaw, "here?"

he doesn't say anything, only sighs.

"what about here?" you suck next to the skin by his adam's apple until there's a bruise. you can feel the vibrations in his throat against your lips when he groans again, a low, seductive sound that makes you nearly tremble in want.

you poke at his side, "can i go lower?"

luke nods. "yes."

"how low?" you're fucking with him now.

he rolls his eyes and stares at you, annoyed. but there's no true bite to his glare, not when you palm at his crotch again. he bucks his hips once more, chasing after your touch and your fingers fumble with the buttons of his shorts. "can i kiss you, luke?"

"fuck, yeah," he huffs, and he moves to meet your lips with his own. luke freezes though, when he watches you lean back, dodging his kiss.

"can i kiss you down here?" you correct yourself, palming him again. hopefully making your intentions more clear to him. you find a delight in watching him become so flustered so quickly.

he nods. once, twice, and then stutters out an eager yes. gently, you smooth the palm of your hand up and down his knee, then the skin of his thighs, not so different from how he caressed you earlier. you push his shirt up to his stomach and lean down to kiss his abs. you can feel him heave below you as you make your way lower.

your fingers trail over the hair on his skin, tracing the waistband of his boxers teasingly, and you can't help but giggle when his hips jerk up.

slowly, you pull down his underwear and take him into your hand. poor luke, he's so hard and so so warm; red and leaking and begging for some kind of attention.

he moans when you've only touched him. you lean closer, looking up at him as you press a kiss on the tip. then he whines, loud and long when you lick a long, wet stripe from the base of his cock to the throbbing head. naturally, his hands find a home in your hair. "shiiiiit."

"feels good?"

"so goo- gahhh-"

you barely give him a chance to answer as you're taking him into your mouth. he watches you take more and more of him, fingers curling into your hair. he whispers your name when you pump the rest of him with your hand.

you flatten your tongue and ease your throat to take him as far as you can. you're doing your best. it's not like you're a pro at this, you've only ever done this once before and that was in behind the bathrooms with some kid from ares' cabin. but the way luke moans above you, pulling your hair and calling your name, you like to think you're pretty good at this. you want to be if it means you'd hear luke whine and whimper like this more often.

"yeah, just... keep goin'"

and you do. you suck and swirl your tongue against him until there's a faint strain at your neck and he's struggling to keep his hips still so he doesn't buck into your throat. that's when you pull off him with a wet pop and your hand fists his length to keep the pace.

"use me," you gasp, trying to catch your breath. "want you to use me. i wanna make you feel good." luke's dick twitches in your hands, 'cause fuck, you're a sight to see.

you're sinking back down on him, doing that thing where you swirl your tongue against his head and now you're playing with his balls-

"fuck- fuck!" his hands pushing you down until your nose brushes against his pelves and you're gagging around him. he holds you there for a few seconds before pulling you back. and then he pushes you down again, and again. luke slowly grows confident, his hands push and pull to the point he's not nearly as gentle as he had been at first, increasing his speed while he finally finds the nerve to buck his hips into you again.

"you're so pretty like this, baby," he moans, brushing your hair out of your face. "yeah, yeah, so, fuck, you feel so good." his thumb on your cheek cleans the tears running down your cheek. "beautiful."

his abs start to flex and tremble when you hallow your cheeks at the head of his cock, your hand working the rest of him. "i'm- i'm..." he's stuttering again, "wait, baby, i'm gonna-"

when you hum against him, he comes into your mouth. moan sputter from his lips, along with hushed curses and whispers of your name. luke holds your face gently, pulling you up, up and up until your lips brush against his in a phantom kiss. you're smiling at him as he tries to blink away the haze from his eyes. "can i kiss you, luke?"

he huffs, "shut up." and he brings your mouth to his and kisses you hard.

#i should be studying #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfic #luke’s cabin

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literally-noone83 · 10 months

Text

Supernatural Headcanons: Receiving Affection (1/?)

About: female!reader×platonic!everyone, teenage/young adult reader, reader's love language is touch: hugging, hanging off the boys' shoulders, falling asleep on their shoulders and the like :) just wholesome things (with some angst).

Word count: It's a long a one...

Warning: Angst, Shouting, other than that it's just fluffy :)

A/n: This reallt isnt a head cannon tbh. Started with an idea, created an OC then a background and then and then and then — it spiralled into this mess haha.

I meant to go further - provide that conclusion to create a holistic narrative... but it's already really long and atm felt uninspired to keep going with it. So we wait, sorry !

Welp, enjoy!

Let's imagine your love language is touch. The crave and the lingering need to touch, hug, lean on, hold onto someone, some one you felt safe around and loved by was a instinct you've always had.

Surrounding yourself with some of the most emotionally stunted and constipated people — emotionally unavailable car, pie and ACDC loving hunter, his emotionally neglected brother and monotonous 'I don't understand the reason for handholds if you're not lost' angel boyfriend — your touchy feely nature was met half-heartedly.

Given the moment you first met them was amidst a series of tumultuously devastating events — one easy case turned bad, the loss of family was never easy on a adolescent. And for the most part that's all you were to them. Another poor young soul caught up in the cusp of a terrifying world Dean and Sam intended to protect. To save. It never came without consequence — it's just this time in came in the form of a teenager, tear stained and alone.

Dead of night, once the vampires who took your mother and little brother were resolved with a few knife swings and burning bullets — it was the embrace Sam offered that changed things.

You needed it. Solace, comfort. Something to keep you grounded.

The Winchesters would do more than offer a hug. Decisions and shots were called, arguments sure did occure — another mouth to feed, a head to look out for — but in the end life kept moving and this was all you had left; a reason, an opportunity, to help.

A Winchester. You were the rookie who could barely hold a gun. Then you were the amature that fought to fight; snooping for cases, sneaking out for a chance to shoot and to prove you can contribute. Couple years fly by and now you're family.

So many night spent trading stories, on the stupid shit Dean pulled and Sam moments of pubescent embarrassment among the pockets of normal school life, or your gems of memory with your mother you missed and a brother you had teased. The banter was rich on both ends — most prominently with Dean. It was just so easy. A grumpy old man who dished out the rules and stomped around with that voice of his — you couldn't help yourself.

*in Dean's voice* "Its too dangerous, me macho man will take care of it" *normal voice* "y'know I didn't realise you were one grey hair away from being my father..."

He lets out a humorless laugh, rubbing his chin and gesturing to you at Sam. "She thinks shes funny huh? youre real comedian— thats it!"

He chases you down the bunker and you run away. Deans yelling and your laughter ringing behind Sam.

Sam truly was enjoying to have someone on his side — till at times he wasn't so lucky. You and Dean were a little too powerful once you joined arms...

Amidst this new found family, Dean and Sam quickly noticed how much you liked to hug them... almost clingy.

Granted, it wasn't like you smothered everyone who walked into your life — with Dean and Sam it was different. They saved you, welcomed you, took care of you. You trusted them.

It qas noticeable during the early days of your stay. After long hunts when you were left behind, in security of the bunker, those hours felt like days and days felt like years. Crippling fear of losing the only formed tether of family and safety frightened you.

The moment the door clicked open, "Hey, Y/n, we're back," a bag of take out ready and jackets being torn off in lethargic movements of a day's struggle, "got some burgers and those curly fries as remembered and—"

Frantic steps and a leap, Dean was almost knocked down by the force of your hug. Wrapped around his neck, face buried in his collar. "Woah there, Kid." He stumbled and huffed from the suddenness.

"Y/n? you ok?" Sam asked at your long passing moments in embrace. Words of gladness and "Thank god"s poured from your lips, stepping back to look at how they're really here. Alive. Safe. The brothers noted it was probably because of your family — you were dealing and I think they are one of few people who could really understand that.

However, this passing moment became everytime. They'd come home and you'd hug them briefly. Once you were coming with them than waiting patiently, you'd embrace them before bed.

Huddled around the table, Sam reading, Dean nursing a cold beer whilst flipping through a magazine as you ate and prompted Dean into weird topics of 'never have I ever - monster edition'. You'd bid yourself adue.

"I'm gonna hit the sack, weirdos." You'd walk around to them. "Enjoy your light reading, Sammy. And enjoy your pervy magazine, old man." Passing by, wrapping your arm their shoulders, affectionately nudging cheeks with them — Sam would accept them graciously, the loving gesture comforting to him. And Dean would simply hum at you, trying his best to look indifferent or exasperated by such contact. But you knew he silently enjoyed them, and Sam did especially; knowing his older brother, the boundary of affection was never crossed but from you — a semblance of a younger sister — was soothed but this entry of comfort. Shoulders slacked, posture less tense, you were a reminder of everything was okay.

"Now get off me - you need a shower."

When Castiel was around it, too, didn't take long before he was another victim to your embraces. Seeing how close Cas was to Dean and Sam, it meant he was good.

Late night car rides, slumped against the worn leather of Baby as the soft rock channel hummed alongside the murmuring engine pushing the hunters and a angel home. The orange street light continuously ran over their laps, exhaustion lingered in the vehicle — Dean's raw red knuckles were prominent, wrapped around the steering wheel. Sam sported a scrape on his cheek bone, exchanging hushed words between his brother and Castiel. Sat in the back with Cas, you couldn't bother chipping on the discussion. The headache you endured only just subsided, with just a bruise that ached at your side, both the dull music and gentle voices did well to block it. Soothing you into a lul.

"Someone's uncharacteristically quiet..." Sam humoured. The two shared a peak through the review mirror to catch your heavy eyes and tilting head you struggled to hold up. Dean couldn't help but smirk, chuckling under his breath at your disgruntled hum towards Sam.

"It's a nice change," he joked.

"Dean," Cas warned, glancing attentively to you, "She did a lot today."

"Yea... she did." He said silently proud. Of course she did.

Moments passed and next thing you know, Cas felt your held fall on his shoulder. Almost surprised, he didn't move an inch. Tossing and turning, laying on him finally made you settle. Staring down at you, he was glad to see you sleep — you took too many nights to sitting on thay laptop keen that every minute need not be wasted. And so he laid back a bit more comfortably, mindful on how much he moved. He understood, humans needed their rest.

Dean couldn't help but find it endearing.

The boys did their best to revieve your affection in stride. Cas was always naturally stiff when you slung your arm over his shoulders. Dean tried his best to act annoyed when you attack hug him from behind, and awkwardly patting your back. Sam never minded the time you'd sit beside him, leaning against his larger stature while he read or researched.

Then Jack showed up. Between losing Mary, Crowley, the fright of Cas' death and so much more — times weren't the easiest. Lucifer's son, the premeditated anti-christ that was the cease all life and goodness, the first day of getting to know Jack was a rocky path. While Sam continuously sympathised the young man and Dean couldn't even look at him, you remained initially indifferent. Just like your brothers, you were scared more than anything, grieving over the losses especially Cas — you didn't know what to think but you did know they needed you.

Jack noticed how you kept wrapping your arms around them every time you left off to somewhere or twist your twist your face into something warm at the much angrier man. It was so peculiar to him that he asked Sam when they were in the cellar, "why does she do that?"

"What?"

A look of seriousness worried Sam, "Do that - hold him. Dean." And he looked at him confused.

"You mean— she hugging him." Jack's face didn't change, "she's embraced him because she's worried about him," it sounded more like a question as he mimicked the gesture, "you embrace someone when you want to comfort them, or show them affection."

"'affection'?"

"It's means to show care for someone."

Jack looks at him, "She does it a lot." He noted.

Sam omitted a breathy laugh, "Yea. She does - she cares a lot, I suppose."

Soon your apprehension grew to empathy for the nephillum. His innocence and innate kindness baffled you at times. He borne no essence of evil - he rather carried Kelly's sweetness, and a fear that made you realise that Jack was far from anything like his father. He was just Jack.

The realisation settled within you as you sat on that crate where your breath transpired in the cold, facing Jack curled up beside the dumpster. Large shadows drew over his furrowed brows, deep with sadness and hurt as he said, "Maybe I'm not worth all this". Your heart sunk. All alone without the comfort of his mother and guidance of the angel she promised, made to feel like he was something he wasn't — worthless.

"Stop." The words escaped your lips faster than you could think and he stared at you saddened. "Don't..." You hesitated, too many things you want to say and you settle with reaching out a gentle hand. "Can I please uhm..." Jack slightly confused gave his hand at your hushed question. And he was surprised by your warm and firm grip; holding his palm with your other hand instantly clasping over his knuckles, you told him "Jack, you are worth all this..." staring intently into his eyes. "Sam thinks your worth it, so did Castiel, your mother. And so do I."

His eyes softened, and a small smile slipped onto your lips. Hope seeping into his features, he asked, "Really?"

"Really." You said.

That night you shared a room with Jack, agreeing with Sam things were too tense with Dean. You'd continue to be at Jack's side, speaking to him, answering his questions, simply being with Jack whilst mediating your brothers. Meaning, your constant defense of Jack caused a constant bickering and arguing with Dean. Unlike Sam the Diplomat, you two were almost explosive. Dean hated how close you'd stick by that thing, that freak; he was dangerous, he could hurt you! And you hated Dean's merciless disdain for him — always throwing warnings at the names and disregarding statements Dean would say without a thought with Jack.

At times, when Sam was with Jack, the moment he'd leave you and the eldest alone, stiff muttering of words escalated into loud yelling. Seething at each other until your red faced. Sam would always have to intervene, assuring Jack they're just "hot headed".

This anger festered into Dean's asserting orders; regulations, rules, reprimanding of your interactions with Jack. You were holding Jack's hand cause he seemed nervous, Dean would explicitly say no handing holding with devils. Alone in a room with him on an off chance again? Dean's dragging you out on errands or telling you to go to your room. Walking around the table offering your bidding night hugs, your affectionate squeeze on Jack's shoulder earned a warning glare from Dean.

You always made a face back, countering his overprotective as overbearing and stupid. When you finally had a go at him for it, Sam was out and there was nothing holding them back. You both pushed at each other to your limits. Comparing Jack to you when you some kid helpless and alone too, or Sam deemed bad before he could do any good, really sent Dean down the rails — because you're family. Jack is Lucifer's son, not you.

"Does he look like Lucifer's son to you, Dean?! He does nothing but be kind, gentle. He listens to your orders, he's even terrified of you!"

"And so he should be!" His voice booms with anger you hadn't heard from Dean till now and it shakes you. "You think I care that he can smile nicely at you, and say 'thank you' and 'sorry'? That doesn't matter. Cas is gone because of him, Mum is gone because of him. Wake up, Y/n, he can't change what he is and what he is, is a freak, an inevitable danger to you, to us, this entire freaking world- I'm sorry youre too damn stupid and niave to realise that." His starn, harsh words push past his lips in a burst of thoughts that seemed like he's been holding in forever, and he has to lean back for a moment to sigh. You stood there without moving, your eye glisten against your will as you swallow his words. He paused before turning to walk away without another word — the knife sunk a little deeper.

"I know you're hurting, Dean," your voice went small, and you caught him mid step. "but you're not the only one." His face grew sullen: he was too angry, too tired. He hadn't the energy to say or do something. Looking at you, he noticed your quivering lip you tried so hard to hide and instantly in his eyes you reverted back into that small 14 year old girl he and Sam decided to take under their wing. An image that flashed by and then you were walking away. To the other side of the bunker. And after a few heart beats, he did too.

Without either of you knowing, Jack had heard the entire altercation. Your purposeful steps rushed past him and you didn't see him — too busy fiercely wiping away escaping hot tears you didn't want. Jack had never seen you this upset and quietly he followed you to your room. He heard you slam the door shut and heard you sniffle inside. Hesitant he slowly cracked the door open to see your back facing towards him, sat on the edge of your unmade bed, silently crying.

A sensation of sorrowful guilt imbued in the centre of his chest. This was his fault wasn't it?

"Y/n?" His sudden appearance finally made known surprises you and you whip around. "Jack," your voice is thick with emotions, harshly sniffed back as your wiped your cheeks several times. "What are you..." You took a deep breath. Seeing his worried eyes you realised your attempt to appear unphased and normal was feeble — your eyes were puffy, flushed cheeks and red nose. And then it hit you, "I'm sorry, Jack. Sorry you had to hear that it's just, he's just..." you lett your hands fall to your lap defeatedly and head hung low. You looked him and flashed a weak smile, "Don't worry," Jack moved to sit on your bed, "It's just everything's a bit weird."

"I'm sorry." He finally said simply.

"What? Jack-"

"I'm sorry," he looked at you with those same eyes that night. "that you, Dean and Sam are hurting - because of me."

You shook your head, "No, no Jack, you have done nothing wrong, we're fine. We will work this out-"

"But you are crying, you are upset."

"I'm fine, Jack, don't-"

"Why are you lying?" He places a hand over yours, catching your evasive and scattered gaze. He pulls you to a halt, forcing you to meeting his big attentive eyes. They were so kind and gentle. And the warm of his hand stopped your racing heart. "You can tell me." He said softly and such simple words crashes over you. Your eyes locked onto his, you let silence hang in between as you soaked in this blooming comfort from someone you least expected it. It was overwhelming. And the longer you looked at him, all thoughts and emotions started to feel too real, too much, and your eyed began to well up in tears. Trying to blink them away made them fall faster and your gaze fell to his hand. "I- I'm sorry."

Your voice cracked and your instinctively tried to cover your face; to hide from Jack which you were sure you were confusing him even more with your immense and sudden outpour of emotions. You muttered your apologies, intending to turn to avoid overwhelming him further until the mattress dipped this way and there and a pair of arms embraced you. The foreign feeling of his body against yours made you hold your breath for a second — digesting the unexpected gesture of comfort from Jack and one that you didn't know you needed.

He held you firmly, his head tucked beside yours, eyes scrunched tight as if desperate to make you feel better. Seconds pass before you relent into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and burrying yourself away into the nape of his neck. And Jack squeezed you a little tighter.

You and Jack would stay like that for a while. Until your quiet sobs muffled into his shirt quietened down to weak sniffles and your arms loosened, feeling yourself wafting into sleep.

Once Sam came home from his grocery run, he was met by the unsuaul silence and brooding Dean who fixing himself a sandwich.

"Dean, I literally went shopping to cook now why are you-"

"'s not for me." He finished it before pushing it towards Sam, "Mind giving this to Y/n?" It was hardly a question.

The way his brother barely looked at him leaning back with a drink, and the sullenness of his voice, Sam knew something must've happened, "...And why can't you do that?"

"I don't think she's in the mood to talk to be right about now."

Sam walked up to your door, sick with worry and anger to hear what had gone down between you and Dean. The steam from yet another argument with Dean came to a simmer seeing your door not locked but left ajar. He slowed, softly calling out "Y/n?" coming closer he heard not only your soft snores he knew well after years but another's.

Entering he stopped — there you were deep in slumber. And in the arms of the nephilum. Your head lay in the croock of his neck, arms loosely fallen across his torso while his around your shoulders. Sam noted your red eyes and nose, stains of tears that revealed the severity of this argument with Dean had a toll on you. It pained his heart yet seeing Jack with you overturned such hurt — he comforted you. A cosmic being does not need sleep yet Jack visibly chose to rest with you — to show you he cared too. However it there was no doubt you had fallen asleep on him first — a sign of your trust.

The two of you have connected, and Sam quietly left, clicking the door shut with a relief and no plan on letting his older brother know about this.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #fluff #fanfic #fluffy headcannons #reader x dean winchester #reader x sam winchester #reader x castiel #reader x jack kline #platonic #i should be studying #haha

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