Tag hunter!reader

Spell-Bound

Aebli Leave a comment

As a defense against demons, the Reader comes up with an Enochian spell. Cas suggests testing it on him. It works, but you also find another steamier use.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, bondage (sorta?)

Word Count: 1430

Note: This took me three tries to write because I wanted it just perfect. Let me know if you think I reached that point or even close! My tag lists and requests are open. I’ve also started to reblog fics that I’ve enjoyed. [See my #ReadItForward and #WritersReadingWriters tags] I may be opening a massive can of worms, but if read something wonderful, reblog it and tag me ‘cause I’d like to check it out too! As for this fic, I hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

image

If you hadn’t thought Sam had the library bugged, you would have thrown the book across the room. You’d been staring at it so long the letters were starting to blur together.

“Y/N?” Cas was suddenly sitting across from you.

“Cas! Can you please not do that?” You took a deep breath to cool off your adrenaline. “I thought you were on the case with the boys?”

He nodded. “Yes. But they are finishing up and will head out in the morning.” He leaned forward and looked over the book. “Light reading?” His head tilted in confusion when you sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“I-“

Were you really going to tell him? Yes. Yes, you were.

“I’m trying to come up with a spell that will pin something to… somewhere. Like the demons do to us. We can’t put demon traps everywhere, and they aren’t any good against a spontaneous attack. I don’t trust Latin or Arimathean, or even Sanskrit, so I’m trying to better my Enochian.”

He nodded sagely. “That sounds like a good idea. But I take it from your earlier prayer of frustration that it is not going well.”

You looked off into the room with a blush. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you. The… lack of progress got to me I guess.”

“I am always attuned to your emotions.” He cleared his throat. “And Dean’s and Sam’s too, of course.”

“Of course.” The dry pages rustled as you rubbed them between your fingers in the silence.

“Would… would you like some… help?” He drummed on the table while you hummed in confusion. “For making an Enochian spell, the key thing is getting the rhythm right and purpose right. What you’ve got written down is too much. All that text ensures success, but with enough effort behind it, you only need a few words. You’re half a step away. Would you like… my… help to make the spell?”

You bit your lips. “I would appreciate that.”

Cas flicked around to sit beside you. He guided you through the book and helped you whittle down your work. Several hours later he had shed his coat and had rolled up his sleeves. He stood on the far side of the library, waiting to try out the spell. You read the few words, holding one hand towards him though your sight was focused on the scrap paper. Then you heard a soft ‘oompf.’ Cas was against the far wall a few feet off the ground and smiling.

“See? It works.” He landed on his feet as you lowered your hand. “Now read it like you mean it.” He stopped your worries with a calm hand. “You won’t hurt me.” He stepped closer and nodded for you to try again.

This time you brought up the memory of your last run-in with a demon. The adrenaline, the helplessness, the rage of the hunt was enough to send Cas flying backward. He twisted around a bookcase and slid across the floor until his back was against a wall.

“Cas!” You dropped your hand and rushed over to him. “Are okay?” You tried to help him away from the wall, but he flinched as you touched his back. “Sorry. Let me take a look at the damage?” You eased him out of his shirt, flinching yourself when you saw the bruises. “Oh, Cas-“

“I’m fine… see?”

You looked down again and watched the bruises fade away from under your fingertips. Relieved, you pulled your hands away, but Cas took them in his.

“Don’t stop. Please.” His thumb rubbed over your knuckles. You never noticed how warms his hands were before. “I think the same about yours.” He let you go. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to read your mind.”

“Right now, I don’t mind. What am I thinking right now?” Hoping it wasn’t too forward, you pictured his hands spread across your bare shoulders. Yours scratching down his back. Twirling fingers in each other’s hair.

Cas closed his eyes to watch and hummed. “If I would like to share that with you… can I earn it with another test?”

“You’ve already earned it.” With a hesitant breath, you leaned down and lightly brushed your lips against his. His fingers weaved into your air and your felt the room spin. When it had settled, another brush of air alerted you to your lack of clothes. Cas broke away from the kiss and gasped to see you.

His hands reached up to cup your breasts. He thumbed over your nipples, making you gasp. You arched into his touch as he tugged your peak between his teeth. His nails trailed up your thighs, leaving light lines in their wake. You bucked and pleaded for him not to tease. Cas simply chuckled. But he answered your cry with easing a digit into your heat and moaning at the wetness he found. His slow strokes and curls pulled whimpers from your lips but left your release simmering just out of reach. You dug your nails into his back. Cas growled.

“You feel so good, Y/N. Clamping down already. I’ve wanted this… I’ve wanted you for a long time. I will give you everything if you can only be a little patient.”

He was shocked when you flipped him to his back.

“I’ve been waiting too. I will not be patient.” You fought to stay on top as Cas tried to flip again. He was playing with you, making it seem like you had control when he could use his powers at any second. You could handle that. Using the same mental images you’d shown him, and the rising arousal inside you, you flattened your hands on his chest and spoke in Enochian.

Cas’s hands were caught on either side of his head and his body was taunt beneath you. He laughed, his chest rumbling under your touch. “Y/N, I am a celestial being. Sooner or later, I will… reciprocate.”

“I look forward to it.”

You began to slide back and forth across his torso. His length was trapped between his stomach and your slick. You shivered each time the head bumped into your clit. You read somewhere that there are over eight thousand nerve endings in a clit; with Cas trapped under you and his cock still driving you wild, it felt like double that. You shifted your weight and kept one hand on his chest so you could guide his cock into your heat. Your eyes closed in bliss as you sank. Cas moaned with you, quaking when you came to rest on his thighs.

“Y/N-“ He gasped and strained against the spell. It wavered as your walls fluttered. “You feel so perfect, Y/N.” He grunted, and his hips trembled under you.

You raised up and sank back down slow. Your head lolled to your shoulder, and your mouth fell open as you continued. Your nails dug into his chest as you picked up speed. Each time your blood crackled with desire, the air seemed to shimmer. You kept your eyes on Cas. He was panting hard and curling and uncurling his fists. His eyes were half-lidded and his skin had a thin sheen of sweat.

“Cas-“ you sighed.

Cas opened his eyes. They were bright, glowing just beneath the surface. You wanted to see more of that, so you slammed down on his cock as fast as you could.

It was right there. You cried out as Enochian letters glowed under your hand then fractured out. You came when they glowed the brightest before the fade. Cas could move again, and he grabbed your hips first. Your toes were still curling from the first orgasm as he thrust through it. It was hard to breathe, but Cas got you there. He let out a shuddered and jumbled flow of words then pinned your hips to his. Your body gave a jolt with each shot of cum to your walls.

He helped you off his hips to lay next to one another. You draped your arm over his chest, breathing to the rise and fall of his chest. You hummed into his skin and let your eyes close in the afterglow.

“Are you tired?” Cas asked.

“Not completely. Why?”

He rocked his head. “The brothers don’t get back until morning.” He watched you intently and you felt a cool wave of grace flow over your body, searching out the places where you were most sensitive. “I have a spell of my own, or two, that I would like to test. May I?”

You hummed. “You may.”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

Castiel/Supernatural Tags: @wn-chstr @millie67 @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @–this-is-my-life– @ibelielvinmusic @marchilinemadness2020 @kiki9230 @another-hot-mess @why-pace-why @racovengeance @septiceye-scottie @incomprehensible-teenager @belicia24 @we-are-band-sexuals @bamby0304 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlovebug @vvinch3st3r @wonderfulwinchestersmut 

Lessons from Jude

Aebli Leave a comment

When a cursed piano needs playing, the Winchesters find out more about the reader than she wanted them to know.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: secrets revealed, half-mention of loss of family, Supernatural-normal violence, SMUT, some spanking, FLUFF, implied further smut

Word Count: 2040

Note: Saw a cute prompt and came up with this hot mess. One of my more sensual smut writings. Reblogs and comments are fantastic ways to let me know you liked it. Tag lists and requests are open. Please enjoy!

“It’s just a hunt, Sam. I don’t need to learn to play the piano.” You stormed into the library. “Besides, where are we going to find a piano?” You turned to glare at Sam, closely followed by Dean. “Is there one hiding in the bunker?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Um, actually-“

“You can’t be serious.”

He shrugged and nodded his head for you to follow him. He led you to a back room that you could have sworn was filled with more shelves and boxes and dust.

“Sam was looking for some files, like we do, and while I was going through this room,” he opened the door and let you walk in first. “I found… yeah. Cleaned her up.”

It was a baby grand. Dark wood with a healthy shine. Gracefully carved legs. The golden inlays on the backboard caught the light. Under the fall were ivory keys slightly yellowed with age. You ran your fingers over them, smiling at the clear notes they sang with.

“She’s beautiful.” You sat down and looked over the music on the stand. Fur Elise. “Dean, I don’t know.”

He sat down next to you. “You won’t have to play much.” He bit down on his bottom lip and swallowed. “I… I could teach you. Just enough for the hunt.” He waited for your response, but it was caught in your throat. “If you wanted too. I mean, there’s always YouTube, or there’s an app for everything.” He waited with baited breath as you tried to keep your breathing even. Dean sighed and moved to leave.

“No, Dean, wait.” You licked your lips and tried to find the words. “I would… um… appreciate it if you could teach me a little.”

“Sure. Great.”

“Great.”

Sam stood watch by one door. Dean stood at the other. You were by the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks, drinking away your nerves. The piano sitting a few feet away was cursed. But, in a good way? If the person played what the piano apparated onto the rack, then any children of Eve (ie. monsters) would lose their ability to hide their forms from hunters, or anybody. This had led to a string of murders of pianists, in various ways meaning various monsters. Usually, the artists had been killed before the show before music could be played, but the last had been killed during an evening party. Her sister had helped get you as the replacement.

And now you had to play and hope that the guys could spot the monsters before they got to you.

Your employer for the evening gave you the signal. You walked up the few steps and sat on the bench. Under your breath, you cursed. The music on the stand changed from Fur Elise, what the last victim had been prompted to play, to Sonata Pathétique. Dean had skipped lessons on reading notes and had gone straight for memorizing the keys to play. You didn’t know this music. You shared a look with him, letting him know the situation.

All eyes were on you. They felt like icicles colliding with your skin from all directions. So, you took a breath.

The Winchesters almost forgot to watch the room as you played. Your hands glided across the keys, filling the room with the mournful tones dancing across the pages. It had been a while since you had to read sheet music, maybe it was like riding a bike, maybe it was the piano. The pages turned themselves, keeping up perfectly with your hesitant-to-practiced tempo.

Dean was so enraptured that he almost missed the vampire standing right next to him. Sam saw the teeth lower out of the man’s gums before either the man or Dean had noticed. When the shifter behind the bar began to shed his skin, the room suddenly emptied with screaming and plenty of pushing and stumbling. You kept playing, keeping the monsters visible. A few of them seemed surprised to see each other. The longer there was music, the less proportionate the room became between hunters and hunted. Thankfully during the bunker’s piano room cleaning, Dean had found a bomb-like item. The pages faded away and you dove behind the piano while the brothers hid behind the bar. When the dust settled, that was all that remained of the creatures.

“It was a shame we had to leave the piano,” you mused, dropping your heels on the library desk. Dean had called some other hunters with a large cursed object storage. It was probably never going to see the light of day again, much less be played. “It was such a beautiful instrument.” Sam went on a mental tangent, wondering if the piano in the bunker and that one were sisters. He left to do research. You cracked your knuckles and avoided looking at Dean.

“How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you known how to play?” Dean’s voice wasn’t hard. Or teasing. More… confused.

You braced yourself on the table. “My mother taught me. I was about to have my senior concert when… I haven’t even looked at a piano since then. Until the other day.” You flinched, surprised when Dean laid his hand over yours. His fingers lightly pressed on your fingernails like he had to ‘teach you.’ “I didn’t mean to hide. I didn’t think I could do it.”

Dean stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “But you did.”

It was getting harder to breathe. To think. “It must have been the piano. It knew, Dean. It knew my last recital piece.” He tensed behind you as what you said registered. “We got the monsters, though. That’s what matters.”

“We did.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He kissed your temple and went to step back. You stopped him by entwining your fingers in his. “Sam’s going to be back in a minute.”

You chuckled. “I doubt it. Research?” You turned to face him. “That could take all night.”

He nodded in agreement. “True. But there’s something I wanted to do first.” He took your hand and took you back to the piano. Before you could sit down, he fumbled around in the bench and found some music. “Close your eyes.” You did and let him guide you to sit down. His shoulder bumped into yours as he joined you. The first few notes he played confused you. By the chorus, you recognized Hey, Jude. Dean started singing on the second stanza.

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better. And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain. Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders. For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder.” You opened your eyes for the nahnah’s and saw him looking at you with a small smile. “Hey Jude, don’t let me down. You have found her, now go and get her. Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better.”

You joined in for the nah’s and the yeah’s and the ‘hey Jude’s’ that filled up the rest of the song. Dean really got into it and sang the high shouting yeah’s like he was in the recording studio with the Beatles. You smiled and laughed, encouraging him to get wilder with it. By the time he finished, his lips were close to yours and your heart was thundering so heard you could barely feel it.

Dean lightly tapped the tip of his nose against yours. His shallow breathing puffed over your lips. You closed the last distance between you before either of you could change your mind. Everything you didn’t say over the years went into that kiss. It felt natural, giving it all to Dean. To have him listen in such a way where words weren’t needed, and to tell you in the silence that if you ever found the words that he would be there too.

Fingers fumbled with buttons and layers until your fingernails could rake down his torso and leave tiny red welts behind and he could do the same all the way down your back. He reached up under your skirt and made you buck when his fingers brushed over the soaked fabric covering you. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed it aside and began to stroke you, thrust into you, and open you up. Both of you were quickly covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He kissed across the curves of your face down to the hollow of your throat while he thumbed at your clit. You lost sight of his bright green eyes as your thighs tightened around his wrist, shivering and sending ripples through your body.

You closed the cover over the keys while Dean pushed down his slacks and briefs. His fingertips dug into your skin, controlling how fast you sank down onto him. It was a slightly awkward position, straddling him on the bench while he leaned back against the piano, but you were too focused on bringing back the earlier high to care.

He groaned as you tugged on the short hairs at the base of his neck. You whined, begging him to let you move but he adamantly held you down. He chuckled as you pouted against his lips. When you wouldn’t let him in, he smirked and gave you just enough of a thrust to make you gasp. He swallowed your cries as he continued to hold you right where he wanted. Finally, he had his feet planted firmly enough on the floor. You gripped his shoulders tightly for stability while he gave you what you wanted.

The edges of the bench dug into your shins, but you didn’t care. The room was stuffy and if felt like every particle of dust was collecting on your skin, but you didn’t care. You could tumble onto the floor at any second, but you didn’t care.

Dean could take you on the floor if he wanted too, as long as he kept moving.

Soon you had control and was bouncing with reckless abandon. Your eyes were heavy, and you fought to keep them open, so you could watch Dean. His lips were parted, panting, and perfectly pink like the tint in his cheeks. Your skin was probably equally flushed. To you it felt like ice, so cold it burned and sparked where ever Dean touched you. You jolted again. His touch trailed down your stomach, bypassing your sex to cross over your thighs and work back to your ass. You yelped shortly after the loud crack. Dean sputtered as your walls clamped down on his cock.

“You like that, Y/N?” He gasped and pressed his forehead into the valley of your breasts as you squeezed again. “I’ll save that info for later.”

“Please…” you begged. You reached down towards your front, but Dean beat you to it. Stars spotted your vision. You were so close. So. Close. The ringing in your ears barely let you hear what he was saying.

“Let go, Y/N. Cum for me, darling.”

With a short scream, you grappled at any of Dean that you could reach. He quickly followed you, pulling out to shoot onto your stomach. Some landed on him, dribbling down his soft stomach as it flexed. He waited for you to catch your breath before helping you off his lap to sit beside him.

You wanted more, whether your body could take it or not.

“When do I get round two?” you hummed, bringing Dean’s hand up to eye level and intertwining your fingers.

“My room or yours, sweetheart?”

“Hmm. Shower. We’re both sweaty and dusty.” You tried once to stand but almost fell over. “Then I’ll pick.” You braced yourself on his shoulder while your legs wobbled underneath you.

He chuckled at the sight. “I’m just going to get you all sweaty again if that’s what you want.”

“Deal.” You grabbed your clothes off the floor and stopped at the door. “Are you going to help me conserve water?”

“Hell yeah.”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

Dean Tags: @19mmallory @aimee-grace-01 @akshi8278 @ashmonet @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @gabbyrogers094 @helloenricanie @idontknow-canyou @its–killing–me  @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67@livelovebands123 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mein1928 @millie67 @mylostsoul28 @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sabrinaoctaviagunner @sassy-losechester @savmontreal @sissysalvatore @supernatural-jackles @temprence-the-real-satan @thedeanwinchesterxperience @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @windeango67 

Supernatural Tags: @bamby0304 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlovebug @vvinch3st3r @wonderfulwinchestersmut 

Quiet

Aebli Leave a comment

Sam makes the observation that the reader is louder watching wrestling than in bed. She challenges him by saying he is too loud to hear her. The reader comes up with a way for him to finally hear her, and benefits from it.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, alternate to ball gag, Dean interrupting cuddling

Word Count: 1330

Note: Again, I am guilty of writing in class instead of taking notes. Oh well, here’s a Sam smut that I hope you guys will enjoy. My friends always check on my voice after a night of watching wrestling, since I’m not so loud during the day. Let me know if you’re the same or the opposite, or any mix in between. Also let me know if you’d like to be added to a tag list. And my requests are open! Don’t be shy, and hope you like this.

“Come on, Ambrose, you’ve got this!”

It didn’t matter that it was an old match with an ending you already knew; the point of watching wrestling was to destress. To get yourself relaxed after a hunt so you could sleep. Usually, the mere size of the bunker buffered your shouts from bothering the Winchesters, but your room wasn’t completely soundproof.

“I don’t understand how you can be quiet as a mouse every other second of the day, then create noise as loud as that.” Sam stood in your open doorframe. You didn’t hear him come in.

You paused the match and looked up at him sheepishly. “Sorry, Sam. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Sam smirked. “No. If I can sleep through a lifetime of Dean’s snores, I can sleep through anything when it’s safe to. Which match is it?” You made space on your bed for him and gave him a quick summery of the feud leading up to the match. He watched your computer screen and occasionally glanced at you when you let out a particularly intense reaction. He got into it eventually but kept his reactions to flexing when someone took a hard bump.

“You’re doing it again,” you said after one such flex.

“Huh?”

You poked at his arm as he flexed again. “That. Right against me.”

Sam poked you back. “Am I distracting you from your match?” He laughed high and free as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Careful, Y/N, or I’ll find some better use for that tongue. Make you really scream.”

Ambrose and Rollins froze and the match went to black as you closed your laptop. “Is that so? Even if you could make me scream,” you gasped as Sam flipped you beneath him. His eyes glowed with promise, daring you to continue. “…you wouldn’t be able to hear it over how loud you are.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. He leaned down and breathed over the hollow of your throat before whispering in your ear, “you always feel so good. Take me so well. Make me lose my mind.” He shifted to plant his knee between your thighs, keeping you from rubbing them together. He smirked as you angled your hips to rub up and down on this thigh instead. “Is that an invitation to try again? To make you feel so wonderful?”

You were already soaked, and he technically hadn’t touched you yet. “Yes.” You tilted your head to give Sam more room to suck on your neck. Clothes were removed, chill bumps were raised, and your bodies were covered in open-mouthed kisses. You ran your fingers up into your hair as Sam reached down between your legs. Heat was already present in your cheeks and hot ice was in your veins. He stroked you, curling and thrusting in every way that made your heart thump wildly in your chest. Your eyes closed as the first wave of bliss ran through you. Sam hummed at your breathy sigh.

“That,” he said, sucking your juices off his fingers, “was not loud.”

In your post-orgamsic haze, you came up with an idea. Sam leaned with your touch as you pushed him to his back. Leaning across his body, you grabbed your discarded panties off the floor. You balled up the fabric and arched your eyebrow at Sam. He grinned. Then he opened his mouth and accepted the make-shift gag. It must have tasted strongly of you, having been soaked earlier, because he hummed around it and gripped at your hips like he does when he is particularly pleased.

His eyes widened as you sank onto his length, mouth hanging open and breathless. He stayed still as you worked your way down. With each drop, you let your inhibitions drop away and let your voice do what it wanted to. Maybe it was watching WWE right before, maybe it was because you knew how intently Sam was listening, but this time you were louder. You stopped once he was fully sheathed and propped yourself on his chest. He curled his hands over yours and gave them a tight squeeze before moving them to your hips. You were so full you didn’t realize what he was planning.

You screamed as he lifted you and slammed up into you. It was more shock than delight… the first time. Sam kept going, pulling from you a series of different screams you didn’t know you had in you. He growled through the ‘gag’ as your fingers curled, digging your nails into his skin. Your eyes darted from the red welts to his eyes. And stayed there. You saw the lustful darkness there. Then the roll of them as he tried to hold off. You bounced faster, shivering as your release danced closer. Sam twisted and got you there. Your vision dropped out and missed seeing him watch enraptured by you.

While you were catching your breath, he flipped you beneath him. His arms curled under you, and he reached up to the back of your head. Gingerly, he angled you to look up at him. He removed the gag and kissed you. You sighed as he began to roll his hips again. Slower. Intently. He licked at the sweat collected in the hollow of your throat.

The hoarseness in the back of your throat didn’t bother you. All the same, you slipped back into your soft sighs and mewls. Sam kissed his was across your jaw and rested his head on your shoulder. You licked his ear right next to your mouth. His hands gripped you tight. All the while, he thrust languidly accented with a few losses of composure. You felt him smile against your skin as those moments made you gasp out.

Sam lost himself in those gasps. He started to do everything he could to make you make that sound over and over again. You keened as he bit lightly onto your shoulder, muffling his own noises. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him back to look at you.

“I want to hear you, Sam. Please. Don’t hold back anymore.” You smiled at him. He nodded and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You arched as he moved faster. His grunts and growls filled the air, mixing with the sound of his hips crashing into yours. Using you arch, he nipped at the underside of your neck. You met him thrust for thrust, making Sam toss his head back. Using the chance, you returned the kiss, mouthing over his Adam’s apple where it bobbed in his throat. He whined and rubbed at your clit, sending you over the edge with an echoing high-pitched cry. Sam followed soon after, then fell to one side of you.

Over his heaving chest, you laid one hand and curled into his side.

“Damn,” he breathed.

You hummed in agreement.

There was a buzzing. Sam groaned and leaned half off the bed to search through his clothes. He chuckled and answered Dean’s call.

“When the two of you are done fucking like rabbits, we’ve got a case,” Dean growled.

“You couldn’t just come to the door?” Sam kissed the side of your head as Dean disagreed.

“And risk having to hear round whatever up close? No thanks.” Dean paused. “Is Y/N at least alive?”

You grinned and took the phone from Sam. “Barely. We’ll be out in a few.” You hung up before he could say anything else. The phone plopped into Sam’s clothes while you snuggled him for a few more seconds. “We should get ready.”

“We should.” Sam stroked your hair then rolled out from under your touch. He started to put on his clothes. You caught him smiling and arched an eyebrow at him. “Now that we know that I can be somewhat quiet, and I know you can be quiet, do you want to not wait till we get back here from the hunt to… try that again?”

It was awfully tempting.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

Sam/Supernatural Tags: @aimee-grace-01 @badwolfy08 @daniel-sharman-tho @gabbyrogers094 @ktchw @loveisjustfortheweak @mrsdeanwinchester16 @myshitismine4221 @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @parseltonguespeaking @sabrinaoctaviagunner @stealingyoupretty @thiickreigns @vinylwinchesters @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r  

A Sunbeam Morning

Aebli Leave a comment

deepdisireslonging:

A lovely wake-up call for Dean.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Hand job, oral (male receiving, implied female receiving) implied later smut

Word Count: 508

Note: Happy Smut Appreciation Day! At first, I wasn’t going to write anything since I’ve planned another Dean post to come out later this week, but then this hit me. I highly recommend reading while listening to this Ambient Mixer.

image

You woke as Dean shifted next to you. He continued to snore lightly, something that made you smile. He always denied that he snored.

Morning was starting to break through the curtains, blinding the spot over your pillow. You curled into his chest, hoping it would block out enough of the light. It was dark, but also close enough for you to feel other things in greater detail. Like the stiffness presently pressed into your stomach. You suppressed a giggle as he draped an arm over you, keeping you from moving too much.

You could have fun with this.

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