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dotthings · 1 year

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While I really, no really, do not care about the CW Network's goings on any further, the misguided takes still going on at the most popular CW Network stan account on twitter are just too much. I can't.

I find it so hard to relate to stanning a corporation and a platform this hard. I'm with the fans who are fans of the shows, and hurt because of losing the shows, that part I relate to, but I don't relate to this stanning of CW as an entity. I'm a fandom old and have been through 3 CEO's at the CW. I watched shows on UPN and The WB. I remember when The CW was formed. There is no era of The CW that hasn't made me feel like this was a dumpster fire of a platform, to greater or lesser degrees. When The CW was formed it wiped out a bunch of Black-led series on UPN. The CW was the evil network that people now think CW Nexstar is.

There was a brief period where I rethought my perceptions of it--at the height of the Arrowverse, back when Arrow was on the rise and spun off into The Flash and it was a very exciting time to me as a DC fan to have that. But it was short-lived and I quit the Arrowverse only a few seasons later.

There are good creatives who have done good work at The CW and I appreciate them, I also appreciate the more recent gen of shows that did seem to be course correcting on some systemic things that drove me nuts about many of the shows on The CW previously.

The evangelizing of Mark Pedowitz. Let's start there.

Mark Pedowitz, who showed he had no interest in SPN whatsoever beyond "maybe the franchise is only J2" and "we'll keep making more so long as the boys want to keep going" and that's all he ever had to say about it. He cared only for the draw of #1 and #2 on the call sheet, he never showed any sign he actually cared about the story, and he was immensely disrespectful about the show.

Pedowitz who said maybe SPN doesn't have any characters worthy of a spinoff.

Pedowitz playing to the very J2-only stanning toxics who are currently attacking Jensen Ackles and The Winchesters.

Pedowitz, who dissed Wayward Sisters. And no matter if that decision was actually over his head and out of his hands (it actually had to do with the CBS half of CW), there's no reason for that kind of tactless PR statement. "Not where we want it be creatively."

I find it hard to forgive all that, to this day. So excuse me if I'm not on board the Saint Pedowitz train.

Now, let's talk about this idealization that says that "they destroyed the network," they being Nexstar.

Oh I'm sorry. Excuse me, come again, WHO destroyed the network?

Who was it that operated it in the red?

Who was it that left such a mess where it was bleeding money and got to the point where The CW's owners, WB and CBS, realized that their loss leading, practically a tax shelter, actually never profitable, and making its money from streaming not linear, pseudo network, was no longer worth it and DECIDED TO SELL IT OFF.

To Nexstar. Who clearly love a challenge. Because they bought that mess and are trying to make it profitable, for reals, as a linear broadcast tv network that doesn't need to rely on a massive Netflix streaming deal just to pay the electricity bills. While overspending, over-renewing everything, and not giving a darn how deep in the hole it was making the platform.

And all of that. That era. Has fallen on the creatives and the shows and harmed the shows.

This is the consequences of that era.

This is The CW paying the piper. Oh, Nexstar ruined it? Are you SERIOUS RIGHT NOW??

And try for once, sorting ratings BY DEMO WHICH MATTERS MORE THAN TOTAL VIEWERS. Yeesh.

Paying attention to readily available, public articles of industry commentary is a good idea.

Less time uwu-ing over a corporation that screwed its own shows over for years and left an inherited mess behind for the new owners who then, from a business perspective, had no choice but to burn it all down and basically remake it from scratch. Causing a lot of hurt in the process.

CW Nexstar does not care about The CW's legacy or the shows people loved there from the past. They Need To Make a Profit.

The shows wouldn't have had to be treated like this if The CW, originally, had been managed in a way to make it sustainable.

And that is on everyone not just the previous CEO. That's on WB/CBS who really didn't care so long as they got their streaming revenue. The CW was their neglected child. Something they threw together to make a profit off streaming, and off exploiting the viral fanbases that platform generated.

THE CW WAS NEVER PROFITABLE AS A LINEAR BROADCAST TV NETWORK

THE ONLY REASON IT SUSTAINED AS LONG AS IT DID WAS THE NETFLIX DEAL

WHEN THE NETFLIX DEAL COLLAPSED IT WAS OVER.

The corporation does not love you. The corporation never loved you. The CW was not destroyed by Nexstar. I'm not interested in uwu CW Nexstar, either. CW Nexstar has made it clear that they are ditching genre entirely. Oh, they might keep ONE dc series, as a treat. They don't care about that legacied genre audience from old CW.

CW Nexstar is not evil for having sports. Read the industry news for once I beg of you instead of just spouting off about how evil it is for a platform to have sports. Max is getting into sports. Amazon Prime does sports. Apple TV+ experimented with live coverage of baseball games. Get this through your skulls please.

It pains my brain to see twitter accounts perpetuating the misinformation and stans lining up to unquestioningly absorb it. I don't care about CW, I do follow media news closely, I do know some things about media myself, and what I care about is misconceptions and misperceptions.

I really think it matters, especially now, for fans to use critical thinking and read more media commentary and learn about what's going on in the industry. It's going to be hard on the stories we love for a while. I support the creatives. I don't care about your uwu big corporation that you stuck on a pedestal and insist on repeating misinformation about.

#tv ratings #media

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babythe67 · 9 months

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HELLO

Meet the writer !

LETS START OFF EASY

I’m Chevy or Colton, you can call me Cole, Colby, Chev, or Chevs. Please don’t call me impala or baby I know my name is similar to the car but please it makes me insane 🙏 Colt is fine too, just use it sparingly.

MY PRONOUNS ARE HE HIM

2. Listen I understand wOAH MALE FANFIC WIRTER- yOu mUst bE aGiRl- please shut up PLEASE PLEASE LAST TIME I CHECKED I GOT BELLS AND THE TREE. MERRY CHRISTMAS.

IM 19

3. Guys. Let’s have a talk. 18 and over to interact. Listen. I was 16 once sobbing ab my Sam Winchester x readers and I know I physically cannot stop you, it’s the internet. Fuck can I do, reach through and smack your hand? No. But for my sake at least try to stay incognito or at least try to pretend good. I will be checkin accounts, if you’re under 18 I’ll straight up block you 💀 idgaf ab views or notes or reshares Im in it for just having a visual diary to put my writing.

IM A MEXICAN MAN

4. guys please. PLEASE. MY ENGLISH IS AS GOID AS IT CAN BE. AND YES I MIGHT FORGET A WORD AND TYPE IT IN SPANISH. IM SORRY. AND SOME POSTS MIGHT BE IN SPANISH MY BAD. also I write from Mexican perspective so again MY B A D

WHO DO I WRITE FOR

5. LISTEN listen guys. My list is long but this is just for spn atm. You want my other writing check out my other accs THELTGHOST or Calahansdrabbles

Cals has a mix writing. It’s like. Everything. Ltghost is mainly cod. Here you Can find; Sam Winchester Dean Winchester Castiel Novak G A R T H Charlie Bradburry Crowley Lucifer Etc etc Dick Roman if you ask nicely.

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU COLT.

6. HI. It’s Colby here. Im a tall nerdy Mexican, probably on the chubby side. I wear glasses and have black shaggy hair. I cosplay ghost and konig and castiel- some other mfs too. No I DONT wanna show my face bruh then you’ll find my TIKTOK and HARASS ME FOR THE FOUL THINGS I WRITE. Uh. Im pretty cool I’d say. And I love interacting and taking requests. Like yes baby let me write you your slow burn destiel fic you’ve been itching for.

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

7. MEXICOOO BABY. VIVA MEXICO HUEVONES. uhhh no but fr I’m from Jalisco Mexico but now live in California bordering TJ.

WHAT FANDOMS??

8. UHHHH This acc is mainly spn cause I want Dean to suck my dick. Uhhhh though I do enjoy a lot of different shit. This includes good omens, cod, overwatch, greys anatomy, adventure time, yadda yadda

Uh that’s kinda all I guess. Stream vampire by Olivia Rodrigo. And Stay with me by Ghost.

That’s all folks. ♡

#dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #spn #castiel #deancas #supernatural #the winchesters #jared paladecki #jensen ackles #supernatural x readers

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mishasminions · 4 years

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The Last Time I’ll Write a Long Post About Supernatural (15x18-15x20)

15 YEARS OF WATCHING THIS SHOW. 11 YEARS OF RUNNING A BLOG ABOUT IT. IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE.

[15x20 Speculation + evidence at the bottom]

First off, I just wanna come clean and say, after all these years, I still think they should’ve ended at Season 5.

If you’re going to come at me with “Then why’d you stick around to watch it if you didn’t like it?”, your question is immature, and the answer is simple: I just want to know what happens next (I also love the main characters and their actors too). You can watch a show and still think it’s shit.

Call me a clown, but despite all the disappointment and trust issues that this show has given me, I would still look forward to the day where it might just turn itself around and bring back the quality it once had, or realize the potential of each story it was trying to tell, or at the very least, do justice by my favorite ship.

Never happened.

They’ve had a few good episodes here and there. I can’t imagine the SPN Universe without The Man Who Would Be King, The French Mistake, and Scoobynatural. Seasons 6-10 were enjoyable at times. I blocked out most of 7 & 11-15.

If you’ve been following this blog since its heydays in 2010-2014, you’d know I’d try my best to defend Destiel and this show’s decisions regarding it no matter what.

Because you know what, as a CONCEPT, this show is good. If you take a look at all the worlds its storylines have birthed in fanfiction/fanworks, you’d see how much Supernatural has wasted its own story arcs. The writing got shittier as each season progressed, and they’ve obviously given up in production as well because the quality in the execution has noticeably gone down too, but if you take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, you’ll see that this show still tries to make sense of itself.

[If you’re still following this post, please bear with me, I know this is long, but I just want you to understand how jaded and pessimistic I am with regards to this show, so maybe you can buy into whatever hopeful thing I’m about to say later on.]

SO LET’S TALK ABOUT DESTIEL

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would give us Castiel’s “I love you” speech. To the point where, if I weren’t so desperate for it, I would argue that it was completely out of character for him to word vomit the way he did (but I’m not gonna diss on that right now because I’ll take what I can get).

I’ve valued every meaningful and obscure exchange that Dean and Cas have had in the earlier seasons, and I was willing to accept their relationship as just that--undefined, without any clear boundaries as to what they really are. And I think that was beautiful on its own.

But now, they’ve chosen to define it.

After they’ve driven every possible wedge between Dean and Castiel in seasons 11-15, to try to explain away their feelings as something they offer to a collective.

Dean can’t mourn and pray for JUST Cas, he has to mourn and pray for EVERYBODY--even Crowley, even some chick he just met, because god forbid he cries about just the guy who has given up everything for him--that would be “too homo”.

They’ve even set Cas on a path to abrupt fatherhood just so he can care about something other than Dean. Make it seem as if Dean wasn’t his purpose through and through.

And after all these years of this stupid show trying to deny it, they choose to acknowledge it at the worst possible circumstance, at a time where they’ve been so far apart, that it seems so foreign for them to suddenly come together.

But here we are. And they’ve chosen to tell us.

Chosen to tell us that everything that Castiel has done leading up to his death, he has done it because he was IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that the ONE THING THAT WOULD MAKE CAS HAPPY IS DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that BEING WITH DEAN WINCHESTER is something that CAS WANTS BUT KNOWS HE CAN’T HAVE.

And they’ve also chosen to tell us nothing about how Dean feels.

Sure, finding out your angel made a deal, the stipulations of said deal, his newfound happiness philosophy, his long-winded monologue of why he loves you and why you’re worthy of his love, and to top it all off he tells you that being in love with you is enough to make him happy while he subtly hints that he’s always wanted to be WITH you romantically, was a lot to process in the 5 minutes after you’ve just had an existential crisis.

It’s whatever, right? Let’s culminate 11 years worth of tension and feelings in 5 minutes. Let’s waste the entire episode with cringey expository dialogue, and irrelevant sequences. The whole season was a waste anyway.

You know what Supernatural? FUCK YOU FOR THAT. They deserved better. WE deserve better.

And I would love nothing more than to hurl every possible insult your way,

But for the last time, I’m going to HOPE that you’re finally going to try to make it better for the fans that stuck by you all these years.

No more baiting new viewers, no more placating casual viewers, no more excuses. 15 years. Bring it home for the people who have actually been around.

SO HERE’S HOW I THINK 15x20 IS GONNA GO

There’s two ways this series is gonna end. Horribly or Spectacularly.

First let’s all take into consideration what Andrew Dabb says about it:

So, let’s start with

ENDING HORRIBLY

In this scenario, Misha is telling the truth about his last day of filming being 15x18. His “camping trip” during the last few days of filming 15x20, was actually a camping trip. He doesn’t go to Vancouver to shoot.

Jensen wasn’t “being careful” during the zoom interviews that it was just him and Jared quarantining for the shoot, it really was just him and Jared (althought most of these were done pre 15x19) Supernatural isn’t smart enough to do misleading PR, and they’re once again oblivious to the potential of their own story.

Misha hasn’t posted a “Goodbye Castiel” tweet because he’s probably saving it for last episode or he forgot because it was overshadowed by the Destiel trend that night.

So what we get is:

Sam and Dean are on the road again, up against the monster of the week. Only their world no longer has actual Supernatural beings anymore, so the monsters they’re fighting are humans.

Humans end up killing the Winchesters (despite having gone up against literally every powerful being imaginable INCLUDING God himself). Dean and Sam end up in heaven and relive their greatest hits.

Meanwhile, Castiel rots in The Empty because he died after realizing that he was happy and gay. Jack doesn’t bother rescuing him—his surrogate dad, the guy who made this specific deal to spare him—even though it was so easy for him get Cas in and out of The Empty when he had a fraction of the power that he has now.

Dean never speaks of Castiel’s confession because despite all the hints of a profound bond in the earlier seasons, and the fact that Dean has never cared for anyone (who isn’t his actual brother) as immensely as he does Cas, Supernatural just can’t have its main macho character be “suddenly bisexual” because that would hurt the male ego or some shit.

His heaven would probably be living happily ever after with his family. “Family” meaning Mary and John Winchester--two of the shittiest parents ever (but they’re not going to include them in this episode like they were supposed to because of Covid) and Sam.

Sam also gets a dog. As usual.

I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to do this. After everything they’ve pulled, this would be right up their alley. I actually expect this ending.

Anyway, onto the next possible ending

ENDING SPECTACULARLY

In this scenario, Supernatural tries to stick the landing, and Jensen’s whole “It didn’t sit well with me at first, but then I took a step back after talking to Kripke, and realized that I had to view it from an audience perspective, I am now really excited about it” (DC Con 2019) anecdote about his thoughts on the final episodes, were actually about Dean potentially ending up with Cas. (Which would totally make sense because Jensen at first didn’t see Dean as anything but hetero, but as of late, he has been throwing in Destiel jokes of his own, so he seems to have warmed up to the idea)

Backed with Misha’s tidbit (DLConline 2020) that he and Jensen had conversations about Destiel, and that they wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jensen wasn’t onboard with it, but Jensen didn’t push back at all. (Why would they need to check with Jensen if it was just Cas going all in?)

Robert Berens (writer of 15x18) also wrote the script at the beginning of Season 15, but made Misha privy to the concept a year prior (Season 14), so they went into this season knowing about Destiel going canon.

This one’s a reach, but this scenario also supposes that Misha was lying about his whereabouts during the filming of the final episode, and him saying that 15x18 was his last episode is part of the diversion to avoid taking away from the weight of Castiel’s death.

And that Supernatural is actually self-aware of its own material (similar to how they have wrapped things up in the past—lots of expository dialogue, poor execution, but fulfills the story arc)

Since Season 15 is basically a Meta Season (Chuck/God as a writer, pretentiously calling out how he created the worlds, its characters, and basically invalidating the past 14 seasons), and 15x19 is supposedly the finale for Season 15, written by two of the worst Supernatural writers, Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming (Bob Singer’s wife), then we can assume that 15x19 is where the shitty writers kill themselves--as Chuck, of course.

So we get a badly written episode that produces a bad ending, or as Becky put it, “All action, and no Cas”

So we get the bad writers season ending at 15x19.

And 15x20 is where Sam and Dean write their own stories, and where the cast had a hand in pitching ideas for it.

Dabb has mentioned that 15x20 (Act Two) is a SERIES finale, where they try to resolve the characters’ journeys.

Because as everyone has acknowledged, Supernatural isn’t about the story, it’s about the characters.

So here’s what we can get out of it:

With no more Supernatural beings left to fight, Sam and Dean are in a stalemate. They’ve resigned themselves to fighting to the bitter end, but the “end” has passed, and they’re still standing.

So they try to figure out who they are now, and what they want out of the life they still have.

Sam still wants a normal apple pie life. Before Dean dragged him out of college to go hunting with him, he had a whole life planned out for him. Become a lawyer, settle down with a nice girl, and get a dog. He gave all that up because they had work to do, but now the work is finished, he can finally go back to wanting that for himself again.

Dean finally realizes his self-worth after Cas saves him again. His prayer to Cas in purgatory may have helped him come to terms with his anger, but the whole “you’ve done everything you did for love” speech finally put him in his place, and he learns not to hate himself anymore.

But of course, he cannot fully reconcile with himself if he doesn’t get Cas back, and tell him how he feels.

Because Dean actually wants something for himself this time. Something he knows he can finally have if he can just salvage it.

So maybe this time around, with the help of Jack (off-screen), Dean saves Cas. Grips him tight and raises him from perdition.

They bypass The Empty deal by turning Cas human, and he lives the rest of his days with Dean.

Dean and Cas know they deserve to be saved, and they know that they deserve to be happy.

(Wishful thinking, maybe they kiss a little)

Anyway...

I’m just saying, there’s NO WAY that they’d have Cas go through that whole rushed speech, if they weren’t going to do anything about it later on.

But again, after 10 years of disappointment, I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to pat themselves on the back and say, “Okay, we sort of gave them what they wanted. We’re good now”

If that’s the case, Supernatural, I’m sorry I wasted my time on you.

Here’s to hoping 🤡

#THE LAST TIME I'LL CLOWN FOR THIS SHOW #SUPERNATURAL #DESTIEL #15x20 #15x19 #15x18 #UNTAGGED #INSIGHTFUL INSIGHTS

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cathrrrine · 3 years

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The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

Chapter 1 - Elevator Doors

“Well, I don’t think it works that way Tony.” You laughed, standing in front of the quinjet as you waited for the others to disembark.

“You owe me a favour, you know.” He scoffed playfully. “Maybe he’ll convince you.” His gaze shifted to a figure behind you.

“Who-“

“Mommy!” The little voice you recognised all too well surprised you. When you turned around to see the owner of the voice looking up to you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t help but reciprocate the act.

“Hey, bud!” You grinned, picking your little boy up from where he stood. You carried him on your hip, with your arms wrapped around him lovingly.

Tony smirked, patting you on the back in a friendly way and ruffling the little boy’s hair before he left to find Pepper, knowing you’ve forgotten all about your conversation with him earlier.

“Where’s your daddy?”

“He’s right here.” The man you loved walked just seconds after your son did. “Hey, mama.”

“Hey, Cap.” You leaned over to kiss him. You had just gotten home from a mission. It wasn’t unusual for you to be greeted by your small family almost immediately after you came back. It was the same for your boyfriend, Steve Rogers.

“How are you?” Steve asked, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“Fine. I’m unscratched if that’s what you’re asking. And the mission went well too.” You walked alongside him as you carried your son. The three of you made your way outside the hangar, Steve knowing you well enough to know you were on the hunt for some food.

“Did momma catch some bad guys today?” Your three year old son, James, asked. He wasn’t that exposed to what your job entailed, but you and Steve had give him a small idea of it. You figured he was too young to know that his parents were basically killers, so you resorted to telling him, quote and unquote, that you caught bad guys for a living. It wasn’t a lie, technically.

“Yes, my little pumpkin.” You kissed his nose. “Momma caught a lo-o-o-t of bad guys.” You said, dragging the word ‘lot’, which made him giggle.

Minutes later you were sat in the kitchen, munching on a cookie with a glass of iced tea in your hand as you watched Steve cook for you. He was more of the chef in your relationship, the last time you tried to make anything other than breakfast, it didn’t end so well. Ever since then, he made lunch and dinner while you handled breakfast. That is, whenever the both of you had time to sit down and eat together.

“There you go.” He set the plate down in front of you, a big goofy smile plastered across his face.

“Oh, Steve. This is why I love you.” You almost moaned at the sight of food in front of you, the delicious smell filling your nostrils and exciting your taste buds.

“Really? You love me for my cooking and not for my gorgeous blue eyes?” He mocked, “Or maybe my handsome face?”

“Nope. Just your cooking.” You said albeit a little distractedly as you chowed down on your meal.

“Damn. Not even my abs?”

“I guess I can make an exception.” You shrugged, playing along.

“Harsh. Did you hear that James? Your mom only loves daddy for my cooking.”

“But I love your cooking too daddy.” James looked to him innocently with wide eyes.

“Really?” Steve pretended to be shocked, putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh wow! Thank you James!“

It made both of them laugh, and your chest swelled with warmth and love just by looking at them. Not once have you taken this for granted, everyday you woke up praising whatever God that made it possible for you to live a life this great. Sure, it had it’s ups and downs, but with your family in front of you...everything in the world seemed right.

You would die for your son and for your boyfriend. Though the both of you had been living like a married couple, you weren’t actually one. You had the conversation with him, and he knew you weren’t ready for that kind of title yet. Even though it didn’t make sense, because you were committed to him and this life. You only had eyes for him and only him...but something about the word ‘marriage’ and ‘husband and wife’ opened up a pocket of fear inside of you.

But that didn’t matter, at least for now. The sound of Steve and James laughing and giggling like idiots brought you out of your thoughts.

Nothing could ruin how perfect this is right now, you thought.

But little did you know.

——

“Alright, let me hop in the shower and get changed into something less...nasty.” You said to Steve, motioning to your uniform catsuit.

“I wouldn’t say nasty is the right word for it.” He winked.

“Careful, Rogers. You could get me pregnant again with that look in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s not so bad. I wouldn’t mind another one, look at him, he’s so cute.” He cooed at the fast-asleep James.

“Don’t wake him up.” You whispered, reaching over to tuck the little boy’s hair out of his face.

The both of you were walking towards the elevator, with your son fast asleep in Steve’s arms. After you ate, you and Steve talked for a while as you loaded the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Apparently, his giggle fit with his dad was enough to tire him out. Your little boy fell asleep in his chair before he made it to his bed.

“Miss L/N.” FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the room. You weren’t so scared it would wake James up, he was used to the A.I. Plus, he was a heavy sleeper.

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“There two young men here to see you.”

You shared a look with Steve, confusion painted all over your faces.

“Who is it?” You asked her, but it was too late. Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened right in front of you and revealed the two people you’d least expect to see today, or ever for that matter.

“Y/N, are those your...” Steve trailed off, watching you as you made wordless eye contact with your long lost brothers.

“Sam. Dean.”

“Y/N. We need to talk to you.”

#spn x reader #steve rogers x winchester!reader #captain america x reader #spn x marvel #marvel reader insert #sam winchester #supernatural reader insert #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x marvel #steve rogers x reader #avengers reader insert #marvel x you #spn x mcu #the devil's in the details spn x mcu

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megsironthrone · 4 years

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New World

Based on this request: Supernatural AU. Its actually based on season 6 episode “The French Mistake” xD Where Jaime is in love with Y/N Stark (Ned’s youngest sister) ever since he saw her the first time in winterfell years ago but he never had the courage to admit it. And when he was about to tell her he was sent into our world and he was Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and he is married to Y/N Coster-Waldau and they have two daughters together (might be in two parts idk xD)

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: This is based on the SPN episode “The French Mistake”. I use the actors’ names, but it’s not actually them! A little angst? Fluff.

Pairings/Characters: Jaime Lannister x fem!Stark reader, mentions of Tyrion

Jaime had never been a coward before. Not once in his life. But when it came to you, the man just couldn't seem to tell you exactly how he felt. You were Ned Stark's sister. He shouldn't have the feelings for you that he did. Lions and wolves did not mix well. But Jaime couldn't help it. Over the course of so many years, Jaime had fallen madly in love with you. He just. Couldn't. Tell. You!

Whenever Jaime would open his mouth to say the words, someone would inevitably interrupt. Or you would look up at him with soft (e/c) eyes and a smile that made his knees weak. Jaime would find his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his courage gone. But now, with the world about to go to all seven hells, Jaime knew he had to say something. It was already late and you were probably asleep, so Jaime made up his mind to tell you the next morning. That would be a mistake.

Jaime woke the next morning to someone shaking his shoulder. "Nik. Wake up!" Jaime groaned lightly as his eyes opened. "What is it, Tyrion?" The man before him scoffed lightly. "Very funny. Come on. You'll be late and your wife will start calling me."

Jaime sat up in confusion. The man he was talking to looked like Tyrion and sounded like Tyrion, but there was something off about him. Then Jaime looked around. These were not his chambers. Before he could ask about that, another thought popped into his mind. "Wife?" Tyrion looked slightly worried for a second, which seemed out of place. Not to mention, there was no sign of the scar across his face from the Battle of the Blackwater. "Yes, your wife. How much did you have to drink last night? And why are you still in costume?" Jaime shook his head, utterly confused.

As he was about to ask Tyrion what he meant, the door opened. "Niko-oh, hello, Peter. I see you've found my husband." Tyrion, or rather "Peter", chuckled and left. Jaime glanced over and his eyes widened. You were standing before him with your hands on your hips and a slightly expanded belly.

"Y/N?" You rolled your eyes and repeated what Tyrion had said, "Very funny, Nikolaj. Have you been drinking?" Jaime rubbed his eyes while you took a step closer. You placed a hand on his arm, making him look at you again. "Are you alright?" Jaime pondered for a moment. He wasn't hurt or anything. Just really confused. Why was everyone calling him Nik or Nikolaj? And why were they all dressed so strangely. Were you really married to him?

"I-I supposed. Just confused." You smiled. "You've been working far too much lately, love," you chastised playfully before placing a kiss to his forehead. Jaime closed his eyes and sighed in content. This was what he had been wanting forever. As confused as he was in that moment, you were anchoring him. You pulled back with a smirk. "I'd offer to help you out of that costume, but I'm pretty sure that's what got us into this situation," you said, gesturing to your belly, "Come on. Get changed so we can go home. The girls are excited to see you."

"The girls?" You arched a brow before placing a hand to his forehead. "Our daughters. Are you feeling okay?" Jaime nodded and you smiled. "Good. Seriously though, get changed. You can't go walking around in your costume all day." With that, you left the small space, leaving a very confused Jaime behind. What was happening?

Jaime changed into some strange, albeit comfortable, clothing and followed after you. You were waiting with a smile and a cup in hand. "Figured you could use a pick-me-up. I've missed being on the set with you so I thought the least I could do is bring you some coffee once in a while." You kissed his cheek. Jaime felt his face heat up. "Let's go home."

For the rest of the day, Jaime walked around with a sense of awe and wonder. This world was so different. So new. But even the novelty of where he was couldn't shake away the pure joy when he walked into the home you supposedly shared and was greeted by three young girls wrapping their arms around him. You simply stood aside and laughed lightly. Jaime felt tears welling up in his eyes. This was exactly what he wanted. He wanted a life with you; children with you. He reached over and pulled you into the little group hug and kissed your temple. If he never got back to his world, Jaime didn't think he would care. Right now, he had everything he wanted although he would have to get used to the name Nikolaj.

At the end of the day, Jaime was a bit unsure when the two of you retired to your chambers. You climbed into bed, but Jaime hung back. Your head cocked to the side in confusion. Spending the day with you was one thing, but sleeping in the same bed was something completely different. "Nik? You coming to bed?" Jaime slowly joined you in the bed, stiffening briefly when you moved closer and rested your head on his chest.

After a moment, he relaxed. He knew that this was how family life could have been for him back in Westeros if he had only been brave enough to tell you how he felt. He vowed that, if this dream should end, he would tell you every day how he felt. If he somehow ended up back in Westeros, he would tell you the moment he saw you that he loved you. With that in mind, he fell asleep again, relishing in the feeling of you in his arms.

Once again, Jaime was cold when he awoke the next morning. He groaned slightly as he sat up. His eyes widened when he realized he was once more in his chambers in Winterfell. Had it all been a dream? A wish deep in his heart that felt so real in his slumber? Either way, Jaime knew what he had to do.

Shooting out of the bed, Jaime made sure he was appropriately covered before hastily leaving the room. He made his way to your chambers. He only hoped you were still there. He had no idea what time it was. Jaime practically pounded on your door, earning a "just a moment," from the voice inside. The door opened a moment later, revealing you wearing a very confused expression.

"Jaime?" you asked. For a moment, Jaime couldn't speak again. Then, his mind went back to what he thought was a dream. He needed to see if having that was a possibility. He needed to know. "May I come in?" Your confusion grew, but you let him in anyway. You didn't care if it caused talk. You never had.

"What is this ab-"

"I love you!" Jaime nearly yelled, making you jump slightly. "I-what?" you replied, flabbergasted. "I love you, Y/N. For years, I've hidden it. Fought against it even, but I can't any longer." You stared at him and didn't say anything. Jaime looked into your eyes, silently pleading with you to say something. Anything.

"You love me?" you asked in disbelief. Jaime reached over and took one of your hands in his flesh one. "Yes. It's madness. A Lannister and a Stark is complete and utter madness, but I do. I've done…terrible things, Y/N. Things that make me unworthy of your love and affection. But you deserve all the love I can give you and more, if you wish it." You let your gaze drop to the floor and Jaime panicked as the room went silent.

Then, a sniffle followed by another. You tightened your grip on Jaime's hand and looked up. Jaime could see the tears gathering in your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. "Oh, Jaime, I love you. I've been trying to show you for years." Jaime thought for a moment.

Every lingering touch. Every soft smile. Every time you jumped to his defense. It was you who convinced Robb to try and trade him for your nieces instead of killing him. It was you who had convinced Jon that he would need Jaime in the war to come instead of killing or exiling him. You had always been there.

Your free hand came up to card through the beard that now covered Jaime's jaw. "I like the beard," you said with a slight giggle. Jaime's chuckles joined yours before he brought your other hand up to his lips and kissed it. "I love you, Y/N." You stepped a little closer, peering into his green eyes. "I love you too, Jaime." Jaime let his free arm wrap around your waist and he pulled you even closer. He rested his forehead on yours and sighed in content. This wasn't the new world he'd seen in his dreams, but it was the start of a new world, a new life, for the both of you. And Jaime couldn't wait to see what it had in store.

(a/n: I really hope you like it! I had a lot of fun with this one!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart @igotmadskills

Jaime Lannister Tags: @faith-in-dean

#game of thrones #george r.r.martin #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #jaime x reader

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kickingitwithkirk · 3 years

Text

Rain pt II

Summary: After Supernaturals end Jensen’s life turned upside down. A year later an unexpected movie offer gives his career a second chance but it comes with an unexpected surprises.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x OFC Lili

Word Count: 1034

Warnings: cursing, nervous Jensen

* This is a slow burn series

Part I

A/N: This story has components from my favorite W. Somerset Maugham short Rain and Lace by Shirley Conran.

“I swear.. your..trying to...fucking kill me,” Jensen gasped as he falls onto the grassy knoll. Jared looks down at him laughing. He had been running with Jensen four times a week for the last month, pushing him to go further each week.

“We’ve only gone five miles…”

“I’m not training for a fucking marathon!”

“You said you wanted to do this and told me not to go easy.”

Jensen lays back on the grass, “I know and I appreciate it Jay, I’m just cranky cause..”

“Your menopausal?”

“Funny. No, I’m fucking hungry! Last night I couldn't stop dreaming about those damn double bacon cheeseburgers Dean used to eat.”

Jensen’s new diet was similar to what the Marvel actors did and he swore he’d never do again.

He normally watched what he ate, exercised regularly and was lucky he didn’t have to push too hard to stay in shape but he’d gotten used to nibbling on sweets, thanks to Jared’s addiction, always having something surgery on set. It was the first time he envied his friends hummingbird metabolism, would’ve made this reduction so much easier.

The absolute worst was no alcohol at all ‘cause dammit, he likes his drink.

Jared sat down next to him stretching, “You're doing really good, I can see the changes already.” Jensen’s cheekbones were more prominent and the soft overlay on his abdomen was gone, his toned abs more noticeable, giving him the lean, muscular look like he had in his early twenties, even though he hadn’t put on any muscle mass.

“I still can’t wrap my head around why me? I don’t physically look the part, Davidson’s described more like you Sasquatch, all hair and rangly.” He smirks earning him bitchface.

“I read the book and yeah, you're not exactly type but by the time you lose the weight, makeup and wardrobe, you’ll pull it off. How much you down?”

“Eighteen.”

“That’s good, you’re slightly ahead. Once your there, it’s maintenance.”

Jensen sighed remembering how much Jared had to put away, on top of his already huge daily caloric intake, to bulk up and kept on for demon blood and soulless!Sam a decade ago.

Jared gets up extending his extra large hand and pulls a groaning Jensen with him.

***

October

Jensen's sitting by himself in the green room waiting for the press junket to start texting with Chris Kane about getting together while he was in California.

His other co-stars were seated close together chatting amicably, having either previously worked together on other projects or through events they’d attended.

“Cheer up mate, we’re not all a bunch of snobby assholes, well...some of us aren’t.” He looked up as David Tennant draped his lanky self over a nearby chair. He’d gotten to know the Scotsman a bit when his wife Emily guest starred as Kate the werewolf on Supernatural.

“Just watch yourself around Dockerty,” he says in a staged whisper making her glance over at them. David flashes his signature smile making her roll her eyes, resumes her conversation with Sally Hawking, Jamie Dornan and Jay Laga’aia, “she’s been known to make a porcupine look positively cuddly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jensen remarks, “since she’s playing my wife,” the comment makes David chuckle, “Sally’s seems genuine, you lucked out there.”

David rubs his chin thoughtfully, “Since we don’t know who the leading lady of our ensemble is yet we might be better off cuddling up to the porcupine.”

Jensen remained noncommittal, figuring it’d be better not to antagonize anyone since they would be stuck together for the next four months; three weeks of rehearsals to shake any bugs left out of the script. costume fittings, makeup and hair while work was being completed on the island thousands of miles from the U.S. where they’d be filming during the region’s rainy season.

A PA walked in, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to face the firing squad.”

***

Jensen nervously tapped his fingers against his thick thigh backstage waiting for his name to be called. This junket was making him uneasy, not knowing what the press would ask since Zimmer, who preferred to keep everything close to the vest with his projects, had only released minimal information about this production.

He hoped the coverage would be favorable since in this ensemble he was not only an odd man out but leading sticks out like a sore thumb man out.

They could hear Zimmer thanking the press, briefly answering questions about the minimal info in the press packets. The announcer went right into a bit of background filler about each of their carriers before introductions.

“At this moment we would usually introduce both leading actors together but unfortunately the lead actresses flight is delayed due to mechanical issues and is on another flight, hopefully to be here soon.”

There’s a brief pause, “This gentleman is better known for his previous hit television series, the longest running of its genre, ending last year after an unprecedented fifteen seasons. Please welcome Mr. Jensen Ackles.”

Jensen counted to five and stepped out onto the stage.

***

“Ms. Dockerty, how does this part compare to that of Lady Mary, since both characters are from roughly the same time period.”

“I’m not sure if we can compare…” Michelle was answering when David picked up his glasses putting them on distracting Jensen. Squinting at someone across the ballroom chucks softly to himself.

Jensen notices a woman dressed in a well worn leather jacket leaning against the back wall. He couldn’t make out her face clearly with the size of the hall but something was familiar.

It starts in the back of the room: a buzzing murmur along the last row of journalists, word spreading, people turning around to gander at the mysterious lady in the back turns into pandemonium.

It’s complete chaos as the whole press core got their full attention on her, some standing up on chairs shouting her name trying to get her to look their way for a coveted shot.

“It appears our leading lady has arrived.” David bemusedly yells to be heard as Michelle was caught saying “fucking hell,” over the open mic. Jensen can do nothing but sit in shocked silence.

Lili.

tbc

Tagging: SPN @donnaintx

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

Rain @stoneyggirl

#Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x ofc #Jensen Fanfiction #rpf fanfic #rpf #jesen ackles au #slow burn

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issa-me-addy · 4 years

Text

to put it simply: if you like anything on this list, we should like... totally be friends/moots

YES THIS IS LONG AND I APOLOGIZE BUT ITS BEEN IN THE BACK OF MY MIND I FELT AS IF I MUST EXPLAIN MYSELF AND MY BLOG FOR BEING A SHITSHOW OF JUST ALL THE THINGS I LIKE

this list is also for my current followers/moots to get to know me and know what to anticipate on my blog from here on out

i like a lot of things and obvi i post more of some things than others

but i’m mostly making this to find new friends/blogs to follow

ALSO MUST NOTE: THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE

I AM HERE FOR ANYONE I WILL ALWAYS RESPOND AND ALWAYS LISTEN AND DO WHAT I CAN TO HELP

ALSO THIS BLOG DOES NOT TOLERATE ANY TYPE OF ASSHOLES

I SUPPORT THE LGBTQ COMMUNITY, THE BLM MOVEMENTS, I BELIEVE THAT NOBODY IS ILLEGAL, I AM RESPECTFUL TO ALL BELIEF SYSTEMS, WOMEN ARE AMAZING, TRANSRIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS, I BOOST POC REPRESENTATION IN MEDIA,

AND I BELIEVE IN LOVE AND KINDNESS AS THE FOREFRONT OF THIS BLOG AND EVERYTHING I AM. BUT I WILL FUCK UP A TRICKASSBITCH FOR BEING FUCKING RUDE.

also again, this post is really long i apologize

first and foremost i love the gays

i myself am a little bit gay

ok into the good stuff

DISNEY

like all things Disney, Pixar & select DCOMS

esp hsmtmts one of my many new found obsessions

also i love disneyland (los angeles born and raised baybee)

i also like rollercoasters in general & universal studios is fun~

im a little into star wars been a slow and steady incline

Marvel

but mostly

Bucky

Steve

Peter, both Parker & Quill

and the rest of the Guardians

ATLA

Zutara

if u shit on zutara u can go byebye idc if you ship kataang just don’t be a dick about zutara ok? ok.

also u MUST STAN APPA,TOPH,&SUKI

also huru but only pre-mustache

all the Harry Potter things

but fuck JK Rowling frfr cos shes a nasty ass trifilin ass bitch

the og hp books 1-7 are honestly the only relevant things shes ever produced

MUSICALS

including but not limited to

anything written by Lin Manuel including 21 Chump Street aka his best work

Heathers

Hadestown

Dear Evan Hansen

Wicked

Waitress

Newsies

The Last Five Years

Mamma Mia

Beetlejuice

AND MANY MORE

One Direction (yes i know judge me)

but mostly Harry Styles and Fine Line

5sos minus the fandom because theyre problematic as fuck rn!

pop punk trash

mostly State Champs

Neck Deep

All Time Low

Alex & Jack’s podcast/streamcast

We The Kings

Simple Plan

the list goes on but i’m getting annoying

also artists like

Tori Kelly

Kehlani

P!atd & Brendon

use those artists as genre/vibe reference lol

AND FINALLY SHOWS

i’m currently watching the Marvel TV shows but i can’t binge daredevil for some reason

but i am 100% in love with Mattew Murdock don’t get it twisted

i am SPN trash although i have to rewatch the last few seasons i don’t know wtf is going on anymore

NEW GIRL

NICK MILLER IS THE LOML

himym is up there

yes i’m friends trash idgaf judgey/bad vibes are not acceptable on this blog idc idc

b99

jake & amy are top tier otp

and Rosa’s very important to me

i aspire to be like the Gilmore Girls

except for rory’s probematicness at the end/in the reboot

ONE TREE HILL i will still title it the best show ever its… so good and also just sentimental to me because its the first show my sister and i really watched tg

also watched like all of Grey’s because my mom was obsessed

AND honorable mentions to these shows that i finished oh so long ago

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

SMALLVILLE

i <3 the following netflix ogs

One Day At A Time (i havent watched anything since netflix released them tho oop)

On My Block

The Get Down (i will never forgive you or netflix for letting this show die)

Lucifer

The Umbrella Academy (even though i don’t remember jack shit about whats going on)

Disjointed

Stranger Things

The Haunting of Hill House

i got mixed feelings ab ‘You’

started but did not finish

(edit: adding cos how could i forget) TEENWOLF

the 100

vampire diaries

the originals

Jane the Virgin

AND here r some miscellaneous bullshit things i’m into

i do be sewing my own clothes thats kinda a new hobby though but we fucks it

i like baking stuff… just cookies and brownies are my favorite thing on the planet

i play a few instruments (piano, bass, uke & guitar) but i am very not good at any of them and yes i will obnoxiously sing whenever given the chance

i am semi obsessed with makeup because my older sister is a licensed makeup artist

which also means i love beauty gurus my current favs are

kathleen lights

jackie aina

& the queen herself

mykie aka glam and gore

so yes i also like fx makeup and creepy tingz

another random youtube fav of mine is drawfee

theyre very funny and wholesome i love them dearly

AND ALSO i am… definitely a stoner

100% a stoner

i love the weeds

but its not a forefront in my personality cos i am much more annoying about several other things

AND YEAH THATS ME! i think that who i am is compiled of all the things i like, the characters i relate to and the media i let flood my senses on a day to day basis– you feel?

anyways i hope this actually gets me somewhere instead of just mad annoying all of my followers

I LOVE YOU ALL PLEASE BE MY FRIEND

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defenderrosetyler · 4 years

Text

Mark of Cain

Fic based off of : @spn-imagines-nation https://spn-imagines-nation.tumblr.com/post/614758642152062976/dean-wait

Pairing: Dean x Y/N

Summary: Dean is finally clear of the Mark of Cain, he feels he has disappointed Y/N by all the death he's caused, and possibly their relationship.

Warnings: Angst, death mentions, blood, smut.

A/n: my amazing betas, @winchester-fantasies and @deanwanddamons. I cannot thank you enough for what you've done in helping me as well as @impala-1979

A/N: YOU MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 18 TO READ THIS. THERE WILL BE SMUT!! Oh, and always remember rubbers ;)

Dean’s POV

The Mark was gone. Abbadon herself was gone, and I no longer wore the red Mark of Cain on my right forearm. Y/N was a dear friend to both Sam and I; well, maybe more to me. I wasn't sure of my feelings one hundred percent yet. Feelings were a tough subject for me. She always supported, comforted, and just cared about my well being and overall health. If I'm being brutally honest, she was overdoing it, but….

Y/N and I had met just over two years ago when I was working on a case. Sammy had recently fallen into the pit, and I needed to get away from Lisa and Ben for a while. I needed to get back to what I always loved - even if it was without my brother. There was shifter activity in the area and once I finally found the bastard, it had been trying to kill Y/N. Her and her family actually; why, I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know. I never even wanted to ask because whatever that shifter did, it hurt her emotionally for six months. Shifters - those were mean sons of bitches. However, when I wore the Mark of Cain, I had done terrible things. When I had worn the Mark of Cain, I’d done terrible things, too. I regretted all of them, even if there wasn’t a way to take them all back.

Managing to find my way into my bedroom, I locked the door. I had been making it a harsh routine and had started doing it after Sammy, Y/N, and I returned to the bunker after a hunt. My leather bag and jacket landed on the floor with a thud. Y/N had called after me, and I could hear her pounding on the door. I had to remind myself my bedroom door was locked, and Y/N wasn’t getting in. Needing to distract myself, I found escape into the shower. The warmth of the water felt like a massage of hands running down my back, cascading down my face. Y/N was still trying to get in. What part of the locked bedroom - bedroom door being locked - wasn’t getting through to her?

Normal POV:

Y/N had gone to Sam after finding Dean’s bedroom door locked. Groaning as she paced around the kitchen, Sam offered her a sandwich, which she refused. “Sam, Dean clearly needs to talk about this! He can’t just act as if Mark didn’t affect him!” Y/N snapped. Sam looked over at her.

“Y/N, you know how Dean is. Emotions aren’t his thing. Never have been, except when he’s drunk.” Sam offered her a bottle of Dean’s favorite beer, which coincidentally happened to be Y/N’s, too. Grabbing the pin from her hair, she began to pick the lock, one thing Y/N was talented at.

Hearing their struggles, and just about as Y/N had gotten it, the door swung open and Y/N stood. Y/C/E eyes met the emerald ones of Dean Winchester. Offering the bottle, Y/N gave a small shrug. “Drink with me?”

Y/N looked defeated as he’d opened the door. Y/N nodded as Dean nodded, accepting the beverage. Before she could give it to him, she glared at him. “Only if you tell me why the hell you’ve been ignoring me!”

This pissed Dean off. He snatched the bottle from her and used his dresser to break off the cap. “You damned well know why! Y/N, I did a ton of bad shit I regret while I had that damn thing on my arm. Yes, I needed to accept it-“ he’d started rambling but she stopped him by doing something she had never done before and she regretted it the moment she did. She slapped Dean Winchester.

Then she kissed him.

Kissing Dean like this was not what she’d had in mind. Dean's lips were soft against hers and it surprised her when his lips molded to hers. It was as if he’d been wanting this to happen - like this was his intent all along. A small moan slipped past her lips. Dean’s calloused fingers traced the bottom of Y/N’s shirt. Y/N’s stomach muscles contracted against his touch.

“Y/N,” Dean whispered, pulling back, breathing heavily. Emerald eyes met Y/E/C ones, Dean’s thumb brushing against her bottom lip, which caused her to bite down on the flesh of where Dean’s fingers had just been. “Don’t ever do that again,” he scolded, as he began to lift her shirt, the fabric tossed aside once no struggle was given for its removal. Both of their breathing was heavy. Hands were slowly working on removing their clothing. Y/N allowed her hands to run up and down his chest. The muscular abs she’d always dreamed about, the ones she always fantasized over.

“Dean,” she whispered, feeling his kisses move from her lips, to her jaw, then to her now exposed collar bone. All she could think about was how she had fantasized about this very event happening-more than once, too- as Dean brought her hand to the silky front of his boxer shorts. The hardened erection she felt there was now threatening to poke through the fabric. She could feel that he was hard and no doubt aching, and just from that one touch, Y/N knew that Dean Winchester was most definitely the man she’d dreamt about. Dean’s green eyes searched hers, begging for her to submit to him.

“You are mine, Y/N,” Dean said, voice gruff and his green eyes full of lust and desire. “Mine,” he said again. As Y/N looked at him, she couldn’t help the desire to back away from him and sit on the edge of the bed. She readily spread her legs for him to see her, to see how aroused he’d made her, how wet she could be from him.

Y/N slowly removed the remainder of the clothing she’d been wearing, leaving her body bare for Dean to see and enjoy as he knelt between her legs. He planted soft kisses on each thigh, alternating between her left and her right.

“Dean,” the woman gasped, her hands moving to thread through his brown locks, tugging ever so gently. She wanted to at least try to show him how much she’d needed this - no, how much she needed him.

“All in good time baby; just relax,” he said, trying to calm her down. He could tell she was anxious, but she still wanted to know what was going on. She wanted him inside her. She'd always wanted Dean, she was just too shy to admit it. As Dean’s mouth reached her soaked cunt, he couldn’t help but groan against its flesh. Holy fuck, she was wetter than he’d ever thought she could be for him. As his mouth worked her, Y/N’s moans and gasps filled the room. His thick fingers soon filled her, making her moan louder for him, nearly letting her orgasm wash over her just by that simple action alone.

“Dean, please, don’t tease me. We’ve had enough sexual tension between us…I just need you,” she begged, and the elder Winchester looked up at her. His emerald eyes shimmered as he removed his fingers from her core, intending to give her everything she wanted: Him.

He stepped back and dropped his silk boxers, the aching erection confined within freed from the constricting cloth. Aligning his heavy cock at her entrance, he slowly eased himself inside her. She gripped his arms firmly as her moans filled the room, gasping out his name in a desperate cry as he filled her, Dean bottoming out once he was fully sheathed inside her.

“You know, you’re hot now, but you were even hotter when you had the Mark,” she told him and Dean looked at her as his eyes darkened with lust.

“You want me to be rough, baby girl? You want me to be hard on you, sweetheart?” he asked, looking at her. He wasn’t going to be giving her the chance to get used to him. He was going to be as rough and hard as if he still bore the Mark and didn’t have a care in the world.

Y/N cried out loudly as he pounded into her and whimpered as he brought her closer and closer to her orgasm. She squeezed his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin and her back arching up into him as she gave a shattering cry. Dean wasn't far behind. At the quick pace he'd been moving, he soon filled her all the way so that once he pulled out of her sore and aching folds that she was leaking for him.

“Dean...part of me wishes you never got rid of the Mark. You're a lot hotter like that,” Y/N whispered; she felt positively exhausted. Within seconds, she fell into a deeper sleep than usual.

Dean wondered if getting rid of the Mark was a good idea…after all, he felt stronger at that particular moment in time. Little did he know that maybe him being a demon would be an even bigger turn on.

COMMENTS ARE WELCOME!!

TAGS”

@simsadventures @fofisstikinski @mummybear @impala-dreamer @holylulusworld @snffbeebee @saxxxology @akshi8278 @deansmyapplepie @luci-in-trenchcoats @samskia-writes @winchester-fantasies @talesmaniac89 @stusbunker @idreamofplaid @bi-danvers0 @cherrypiebbyblog @cleighwrites @impala-1979 @jxackles

#defenderrosetyler #dean winchester imagine #deanxreader #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #MOC!Dean #mark of cain

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winpeg · 28 days

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follow up from this lil post i made a bit ago ehe

ummm ENJOY

#WHOOP there it is #yes i’m back #making everything ab spn again #ethelnatural #spn #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester #samdean #wincest #weirdcest #gencest #ethel cain #music #edit #my edit

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sandsunseagrapes · 3 years

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absolutely adore the fact that I get to have all these feelings ab spn and destiel and cry my silly little heart out while watching a show that constantly disappoints everyone who loves it and read all these beautiful pieces of frankly unearned, deep analysis and also insist that it is a good show that’s actually bad but secretly so good but on the whole, fails at almost everything it tries to do and then some. especially nice to revisit these feelings post-Nov 5 when I was out of the fandom for 5 years. even cooler to see how much more I understand ab the characters now that I understand more ab the world and myself. the cherry on top is that I get to have allll these silly feelings™️ and now that I’m way more critical of the show than I was the first time around, it’s somehow more enjoyable?? Bc like. my identity has nothing to do w this stupidly long-running racist, misogynistic, classist piece of trash. and I love it for the things I love ab it, and I do not care that it’s bad (pls don’t take this the wrong way!! it misrepresents so many different groups of people and says rly awful things ab a lot of what makes America America and intellectually, I care very much ab that. I just won’t be upset if someone genuinely hates it bc, again, it’s So Bad. they’re right)

anyway what I’m trying to get at is, I actually love the show for the fandom. It would be unbearable to watch if we couldn’t all commiserate and make dumb jokes and also pen some rly lovely thoughts, share beautiful art, and just generally be like hey this sucks right? but we’re in it now :/ check out this meme I made ab the various levels of class oppression and we’re all basically like yes give me more this sucks :)

#spn #supernatural #spn fandom #the secret good spn that lives in ur head is smth that can actually be so personal #sigh #what’s that post that’s like #it’s good bc it’s bad and it wouldn’t be good if it was Good so it’s only good bc it’s so bad and we all hate how much we’re enamored w it #but also #I def have less shame ab liking this show now #bc I do genuinely :/// like it ://////#and now I’m like kind of an Adult I’m realizing #fuck a guilty pleasure #I will feel no guilt ab the things that make me happy #ya I might keep some of them away from some people ik but that’s more out of like #if I tried to have an irl convo ab this show I wouldn’t blame my friends for baker acting me #anyway #love y’all mean it

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impala-dreamer · 5 years

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When Sam Wore A Kilt

SPN FanFic

~ Sam has a new costume to go undercover with and Y/N cannot help herself...~

Sam x Reader, Dean.

1,612 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Sexyness. All the pre-loving goodness.

A/N: This is for my 'Fic Imitating Art Challenge'... Art/title by @feelmyroarrrr, fic by me! Hope you enjoy :)

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Y/N pushed open the motel room door and let it slam shut behind her, not caring about anything other than plopping down onto the closest bed. The day had been long and disgusting.

Dean looked up in passing as she fell face first onto his bed, eyes still churning through the article in the magazine she’d left that morning. "How'd it go?" he asked, curious as to why her jeans were caked in dust to her knees.

"So nasty," she mumbled into the comforter. "Anyone know how many air fresheners it takes to get the dead body smell out of a basement?" she asked rhetorically, rolling over onto her side. The movement sent a wave of stink up to her nose that crinkled on impact. "Or out of clothes? Gross."

"You'll get used to it. I don't even notice anymore." Dean turned to the next article, 'How To Tell If He's Really Into You Or Just Wants Sex'.

“Sure you don’t, Guru Winchester,” she scoffed, sitting up on one elbow. “I saw you gag in the morgue last week.”

“That’s totally different,” Dean said nonchalantly, mentally clicking through the checklist. “I had too much breakfast sausage.”

“Mhm…” Her hum of disbelief turned into a whistle of shock as Sam stepped out of the bathroom. “What the…”

“Is it that bad?” he asked, face instantly blushing.

“No…” Y/N’s eyes were wide and amused as she looked him up and down. “God, I love undercover work.”

Sam was clad in a classic red kilt, complete with belt, knee high socks, and dress shirt. A formal black jacket hung behind the bathroom door, ready for him to shrug into. “Really?”

Dean bit back his laugh but Y/N stood up, floating over to him with stars in her eyes. “Sam Winchester, I never knew you had such beautiful calves…”

His cheeks burned as red as his kilt. “I…”

Teeth dug into her bottom lip as Y/N approached, the draw of the new Scotsman in the room too much to resist. She hooked a finger around his belt and leaned up on her toes. “Whatcha wearing under that kilt, Sam?”

His breath came in on a shaky gasp and he backed away quickly, clearing his throat and reaching for his jacket. “Uh… We ready to roll?” he asked Dean, trying to ignore the heat pulsing off of Y/N’s hand.

Dean nodded and stood, tossing the magazine onto the bed. “Let’s go!”

“Sam…” Y/N’s pout nearly knocked him off of his feet, but Sam kept his cool. “You’re not gonna tell me?”

He stumbled to reply, not used to her forwardness at all. “M-maybe later?”

She laughed sweetly and let him leave, calling over her shoulder before the door shut. “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that.”

Y/N was clean and settled in by the time Sam returned that night. He was still dressed to kill and thankfully a bit more relaxed. Dean was nowhere to be found and Y/N’s head buzzed with ideas when she saw that Sam was alone.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Winchester."

Sam grinned as he shut the door. "Hi."

"How was the party?"

"Oh, just...great." He wobbled a bit, tripping as he tried to toe off his shoes. "Crap."

Y/N laughed and sat up, eyeing him suspiciously as she swung her legs off the bed. "Sam?"

He hummed innocently in response and steadied himself against the door.

"Are you drunk?"

Sam scoffed and tried to open his jacket. “That’s… no.”

Y/N gasped and bit her lip to hold her excitement at bay. “You are. Oh my goodness.”

“Shut up.” Sam’s cheeks were bright again, but not just from embarrassment. He managed to shed his jacket and then untucked his shirt, pulling the stiff white fabric from his waistband.

“How much does it even take to get you drunk? I’ve never seen this before.” Y/N slowly rose from the bed and tiptoed towards him, one bare foot in front of the other.

“Champagne,” Sam confessed. “Lots and lots of champagne. And… Irish Mist? What is that?”

“Delicious,” Y/N smiled and licked her lips as she neared him.

“It was.” Sam laughed, giving up on his shirt buttons and leaning back against the door. He slumped down a bit, legs spreading out to brace him up.

“I think I like you like this,” Y/N cooed as she stepped between his legs.

Sam stared down at her with glassy eyes, pink lips wet and gently parted. “Like what?”

She lifted a hand to run through his hair and Sam closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “All drunk and happy,” she said softly. “And in a kilt…” Her kiss caught the side of his mouth and Sam laughed quietly.

"You gonna ask me again?"

Y/N dropped down off her toes and looked up coyly as she slid her hand firmly down his hard chest. "Ask what, baby?"

Sam moaned as she pinched his nipple through the stiff dress shirt. "Ask me what's underneath," he whispered, dipping his chin to chase her lips again.

With a quick tug, Y/N pulled the front of his shirt free from the kilt, nearly popping a few buttons as she yanked. "Why don't I just find out?" she teased before flicking her tongue across his waiting lips.

Sam shuddered and grabbed her face, big hands covering her cheeks temple to jaw as he held her still for a proper kiss. She let him lead up top, but dropped her hands, slowly sneaking up beneath the heavy wool to find him bare and hard.

“Oh, Sam...oh my.”

“Had to go authentic,” he said, practically panting into her mouth as Y/N wrapped her fingers around his quickly stiffening cock.

“Very glad you did…” She pumped him gently, hand working slowly to bring him to life as he attacked her mouth with sloppy kisses. His tongue was hot and sweet; his usual minty taste replaced by something light, almost fruity.

"Fuck…" Sam moaned as you rubbed your palm over the tip of his erection, his head pushing back against the door.

"Oh, we're gonna fuck," she laughed, letting go of him to get back to the buttons on his shirt. He tried to protest, reaching for her hands, but she kissed him dumb and slapped his fingers away.

"You just relax."

She started at the already open bottom and carefully undid each tiny clear button, slowly peeling back the shirt until his perfectly tanned, heavenly carved and chiseled torso was revealed. She kissed a line down his sternum as she pushed the shirt off his big shoulders, tugging it down until it snagged on his thick arms.

Sam hummed happily; words that got caught in his throat as her lips grazed his nipple. His stomach tensed as she kissed further down, his tight abs revealing themselves as he pushed out a loud breath.

"God, I need you so bad," he managed, tongue sealed by the booze, brain melted by her touch.

Y/N licked at the hard lines of his hips as she toyed with the ornate leather belt, taking her time to reach his cock again even though it poked through the plaid, calling to her.

“Please…” Sam grunted as the belt crashed to the floor. His left hand fell to his thigh, gathering up the skirt, ready to pull it up and away for her, but again, Y/N slapped his hand away.

“Nope,” she warned, suddenly climbing back to her feet and pulling away.

He watched her leave with troubled eyes, mouth hanging in shock, cock twitching against the wool. “What?”

Y/N stripped slowly as she walked to the bed, tossing her shirt over her shoulders and stepping out of her cotton panties. Sam swallowed hard but stayed propped against the door, unsure of her plans, but loving the reveal.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, mouth flooded with hunger for her.

She smiled and lay on the end of the bed, legs spread and knees high, elbows holding her up so she could watch him drool. “So are you, big boy.” With one hand she played with her tits, kneading the firm flesh as she looked him over. “Why don’t you come over here and show me just how beautiful.”

Sam cocked a sexy grin as he pushed away from the door and started across the room. He moved like a runway model; champagne twisting his hips just so, all shyness gone from his system. Two feet from the bed, Y/N stopped him, a single hand raised.

“Right there,” she grinned. “Now, show me what’s under that kilt, Sam. Show me everything.”

He moved like a jungle cat, long lines swaying seductively with each movement as he opened the kilt and slowly pulled it aside. His cock was hard and long, it’s own weight making it hang down between his thighs. Y/N spied a sheen at the tip and licked her lips, imagining the delicious saltiness on her tongue.

“Gorgeous,” she praised, running a hand down her body to tease her pussy.

Sam chuckled softly and fisted his cock, watching her fingers disappear for a second into the hot slick of her cunt. “Thanks. You too.”

Her hips rolled, grinding her clit against the heel of her hand and Y/N hissed at the ache. “How long ‘till Dean gets back?”

He glanced quickly at the door, then the clock on the nightstand. “About twenty mins,” he said with a shrug.

“Well then,” she cooed, spreading her legs nice and wide for him. “We better get a move on…”

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#spn fanfic #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #fia challenge round1 #smut #one shot

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waywardnerd67 · 5 years

Text

Mr. Fix It

Title: Mr. Fix It Square Filled: Neighbor Pairing: Jared x Reader Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader Warnings: Fluff/Smut/Mild Spanking (for those who may not be into that) Summary: Jared offers to help fix up his new neighbor’s house including helping her put her brand new bed together. Word Count: 2309 Created for: @spnkinkbingo

Check Out: SPN Kink Bingo 2.0 Masterlist

Jared had spent his first week off from filming watching his new neighbor move into the house across from his. It was quite the fixer upper for someone who was seemingly living by herself. When his co-star and best friend, Jensen had come over to encouraged Jared to go over and introduce himself. Jared was always weary about putting himself out there never knowing who was a fan or not.

He looked out to see her trying to fix her mailbox. Chuckling he grabbed his post digger out of the garage and walked across the street. “Hi there.”

She looked up with the most gorgeous (Y/C/E) eyes and her (Y/C/H) was pulled back short strands falling down in front of her face. “Hi, you must be the actor.” She said holding out her hand, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Jared. Which one of our neighbors ratted me out?” he asked as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Mrs. Heggins down the street. She invited me over for dinner and gave me all the scoop on everyone. You’re the handsome actor who is hardly ever home and when you are you tend to keep to yourself.” (Y/N) smiled as Jared ran his hand through his long hair.

He stepped beside her taking her shovel away and began pushing his post digger into the ground, “I guess that is accurate, except the handsome part maybe. I saw you struggling out here, so I decided to break my hermetic living to come help you out.”

“My hero.” She said stepping out of his way.

Jared and (Y/N) ended up talking and working for the whole afternoon. Her house truly needed a lot of work and he volunteered himself to help out whenever his schedule permitted it. By the time, the moon was high in the dark sky Jared was pooped not remembering the last time he had done so much physical labor.

“I cannot thank you enough for helping me today. I think you really are my hero.” She handed him the last tool for his box and he latched it closed.

They exchanged phone numbers while he was looking at his schedule on his phone, “I will come over next week once I’m back from my conventions to help you out some more.” He grabbed he things starting to walk down her driveway.

She called out to him from her garage, “Thank you again and I agree with Mrs. Heggins about the handsome part.”

He turned around seeing her grinning as her garage door closed. Jared had a wide smile on his own face that did not go away the whole time he was gone for work. The whole time he was gone they texted with one another getting to know each other. He enjoyed chatting with her and his entire Supernatural family could tell a huge difference in him.

“Jared, I don’t know what is going on but whatever has change keep that in your life. You just seem so happy this week.” Kim Rhodes mentioned as he sat backstage for the Saturday Night Concert.

Jensen chuckled, “He met a girl and is helping her move furniture around her house.”

Jared threw a wadded up napkin at his best friend feeling his cheeks burning slightly. Honestly, he could not wait to get back home to see her, but everything seemed too good to be true. One thing he learned early in life was if it sounded too good then it probably was.

When Clif dropped him off at his house there was a small basket on his front porch. It was filled with snacks and a bottle of whiskey along with a broken mallet. Picking it up he walked inside seeing there was also a note in the basket.

“Glad you’re back! I’ll provide dinner and whiskey if you will come put my bed together. I tried to do it myself and I somehow broke my hammer. Help a poor girl out. Thanks! –(Y/N).” Jared laughed looking down at the mallet again.

He took a quick shower and grabbed the bottle of whiskey heading over to (Y/N)’s house. Upon knocking on her door, he could hear her cursing loudly before yelling, “Come on in!”

Her voice sounded like it was coming from the lower level of the house, “Where are you?” he called out walking through towards her kitchen.

“Downstairs fighting with my god forsaken bed frame!” Jared chuckled walking down the stairs to find (Y/N) glaring down on the offense furniture.

Her entire lower level was made into a master bedroom suite that even made him jealous. “Wow this is the largest bedroom I’ve ever been in.”

(Y/N) chuckled walked over to the make shift table holding her glass of whiskey. “Yeah I know. I debated on if I should take the master bedroom on the main floor or come down here.”

She poured him a glass of his own handing it to him, “So what was the deciding factor?” he asked.

“Honestly? If I ever have kids I want them to have the room on the second floor and then the master bedroom be used for a guest room. That way the guest can have their own bathroom and space. Also, if I decided to be extra loud then this room is pretty sound proof.” She said then covered her mouth.

Jared started laughing as her cheeks turned pink, “Loud huh?” he asked making her bury her face in her hand.

“I may have had a few whiskeys before you arrived making my filter broken tonight.” He grinned down at her setting his glass on the table.

“It’s alright, I’m glad to know I can basically ask you anything and get an honest answer out of you.” He headed over to the pieces of her bed frame looking over everything.

(Y/N) sat down out of the way watching him, “Yep! No better truth serum than Jack.”

Slowly Jared started moving parts around and building her frame up. She would help by grabbing tools for him or holding a piece in place. After two hours and a bottle of Jack, her bed was all set up ready for her to sleep in. Looking down at his phone he saw it was past midnight as she flopped down onto her mattress.

“Ah… this feels so good.” She moaned as Jared held his breath swallowing the groan that tried to escape.

Seeing her sprawled out across the bed with her shorts riding up her slender legs and tank top just barely covering her breasts had his shorts feeling a little more snug than normal. She looked up at him waving for him to come closer.

“Come on, test it out. You earned laying on here more than me.” She patted the bed next her as he cautiously laid down next to her.

The mattress was ridiculously comfortable. He could not help but think about the fact that the frame and mattress were so solid it would take a lot of movement to move either of them. The thought of testing his theory out had him sitting up quickly so she would not see the bulge in his shorts. Jared looked over catching a glimpse of her tank top riding up her stomach as she stretched further over the bed.

When he glanced up to her eyes he knew you had been caught looking at her. Turning his head, he chuckled, “Sorry can’t help it. I’m a typical dude.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve been eyeing you all night as you worked on my bed.” Her confession made his heart thumb against his chest.

(Y/N) sat up placing her arms around his neck and straddling his lap. She bit her lower lip looking away from him slightly, “All I’ve been thinking about is how I want to test out my new bed with you.”

Jared ran his hands up her thighs gripping them as he rested his forehead against hers, “Me too.” He whispered as she looked up at him.

There was a brief moment of tension between them before their lips collided together. Jared hands went up the back of her tank top pulling it off with ease. He wrapped his arms around her rolling her onto her back. He stood up pulling his shirt over his head as (Y/N) unhooked her bra tossing it on the floor. Seeing her perfect breasts, he leaned down capturing one her nipples gently between his teeth.

“Oh shit…” she called out pressing herself further against his mouth.

One of her hands slid down his abs and over his hard length stroking him through his shorts. Groaning against her breast she pushed him slightly off of her surprising him. “Get your fine ass naked and in my bed now.”

Jared laughed as he watched her pulled down her shorts and panties down her legs. “Fuck.” He whispered seeing her spread her legs for him giving a full view of how wet she was for him.

He quickly pulled his own shorts and boxers down his cock springing out seemingly drawn to her naturally. (Y/N) licked her lips as he stroked himself a couple of times before she patted her mattress, “Lay down.”

He did watching as she straddled his face her hand slowly running down his long shaft. Wrapping his hands around her thighs he pulled her slick lips down to his mouth lapping at her wetness. “Good god I knew that mouth would be amazing.” She mumbled against his thigh.

Then it was his turn to feel how wonderful her mouth was as she slowly sunk down on his cock. He groaned loudly into mound tightening his grip on her legs. When she came back up with a pop she pushed herself up slightly grinding against his face. “Fuck Jared, just like that.” She moaned caressing his cock with both her hands.

She leaned down taking him in her mouth again spreading her legs a little wider for him. When her hand fondled his sack, he took his mouth off her, “Shit you keep doing that I’m going to come sooner than I want.”

He pulled her back down on his mouth as she sat up bracing herself on his thighs. “God Jared, I’m so close.” He pressed his tongue flat against her clit before sucking it hard feeling her body shaking as she came.

“FUCK JARED!” she cried out lowering her head next to his cock breathing heavily as she placed small kissed along his length.

She got off of him getting on all fours next to him. (Y/N) wiggled her butt as he moved behind her. She moved closer to the headboard pressing her palms flat against it as she stuck her ass further in the air. He ran his hand over one of her cheeks wanting so badly to smack it.

“Go on, I know you want too.” She said looking over her shoulder smiling.

It was in that moment that Jared knew some higher power had created her just for him. There was no way he met her by chance. It was all a greater scheme of the Universe putting them together. He run his hand over her cheek again then drew back smacking it hard. (Y/N) let out a yelp followed by a deep groan. “Again.”

Jared did it a few more times until she was panting, and her ass was red. Taking his length in his hand he ran it along her slit until he slowly pushed inside of her. “Holy fuck Jared.” She cried out as he buried himself deep in her.

He hardly moved letting her get used to him and when she started to move along his cock on her own he straighten up watching her take his cock over and over. (Y/N) let him slip out moving closer to the head board and he followed her grabbing her hips slamming into her.

“Yes!” she yelled as she lifted herself up holding onto the head board.

Jared watching as she slammed herself back on him repeatedly. He held her hips to keep her in place and started meeting her thrusts. He was so close to coming and could feel she was close as well. He reached around her his fingers gliding over her sensitive clit. The sound of their skin smacking against one another filled the entire room followed by her crying out his name as she came.

Feeling her clench all around him had him pulling out of her quickly jerking his own release over her ass. He was panting hard stroking his length until every drop of his release was out of him. (Y/N) laid down on her stomach as he got up grabbing his shirt to clean them both up.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Congratulations, you have ruined all other men for me. You’re officially are stuck with me now.” She joked rolling over to her side to look up at him.

Even though he knew she was joking something about what she said gave him a comfort that he had never felt before. He shrugged tossing his shirt back on the floor, “I’m okay with that if you are.”

Her shining (Y/C/E) eyes stared into his searching to see if he was being serious or not. When a small, bashful smile crossed her face she pulled back the covers crawling under them. “Well then come on Mr. Fix It, I want to sleep before we go test out some more of my furniture upstairs.”

Jared laughed crawling into bed next to her pulling her body against his. “I was being serious, you know.” He whispered against her neck.

“I know. So was I about being stuck with me and the furniture.” Her laughter was the last thing he heard before falling into the best sleep of his life.

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#spnkinkbingo #mr. fix it #jared padalecki fanfiction #jared padalecki fanfic #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki fluff #jared padalecki smut

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waywardimpalawriter · 5 years

Text

Stay With Me

Stay With me

Summary: Is it just a dream or something more? Full of regret and longing for more.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Rating: NSFW aka smut everyone with angst thrown in for good measure.

Written for the #SPN Celebration Challenge. Prompt #NSFW09

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it if your gonna tap it people), not what you think (is that even a warning?)

Setting: any season

Half drank bottle of whisky sat on the bed side table, TV flicking an infomercial casting shadows in the relatively dark room. Only a single lamp cast an eerie shadow on the lone figure laying out on the motel bed. Spread out on his back, clothes from the days hunt still encasing his large frame. Groaning, Dean rolls over trying to sit up but falling back into the uncomfortable, itchy bed. Hands scrubbing at his eyes clearing the sleep, before one cards through his tussled honey brown hair tugging at the strands a few times.

The sweet lure of sleep seeming to evade him, much like every night when getting three if he’s lucky four hours of rest is all. Not that his body isn’t use to it, but Dean thought for sure almost two bottles of Jack in that it’d numb him enough to fall into an inebriated state aka passing the fuck out and not remembering a damn thing tomorrow.

So unlucky is this emerald eyed hunter, as something catches his eye. The reason he woke from his slumber. A simple noise really one he shouldn’t have picked up on. Though this noise hadn’t been heard for the past three months. Soft feminine laughter floated towards his ears again he had to be dreaming.

“Y/N?” rough drowsy filled voice cut through the silence.

You nod slowly, watching him, a sad smile gracing your lips. “It’s me Dean.”

“But how? I don’t,” shaking your head taking a few steps towards the bed letting him see, in the harsh yellow light of the bedside lamp that your wearing a simple tank top and shorts.

Hair pulled to one side baring a long expanse of neck and shoulder, eyes shining while watching him, “It’s okay love everything’s alright,” sweet voice speaking words of reassurance.

Nodding, Dean sat up beckoning you towards him. His trademark half smirk sliding into place, watching as you place a knee on the mattress, slowly prowling towards him. “Am I dreaming? Cause theirs an angel in front of me.”

Rolling your eyes, a chuckle escaping ruby lips. “No dream baby all real. See,” grabbing his right hand, placing it on your hip.

Squeezing the soft flesh he found, wrapping the arm around your waist to pull you forward. Bracing either hand beside his head leaning forward watching as his eyes traveled down to the gap in your top. Showing off the fact that you’d gone braless, breasts swaying with each movement of your body. Hearing the deep groan leave his lips a satisfied smile tugging at your lips right before plush slightly chapped lips met, your softer ones. A gentle fluttering of mouths, as his hand traces up your back tangling in your hair at the base of your neck. Holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, tongue tracing grabbing your bottom lip and tugging. Nibbles while his mouth keeps you distracted, his free hand has come up to slide down the front of your body. Underneath the cotton fabric of your shorts and panties, fingers ghostly over your core, testing. Teasing you as one finger dips between your folds to rub in quick circles that tiny little nub of nerves that has your body bowing in half.

Gasping, Dean takes advantage, plunging his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth, dueling with yours. Fighting over dominance, as his finger works you from below, his tongue mimicking the movement. As another moan leaves your lips, hips rocking against his hand desperate to feel that fraction, to have that pleasure only Dean can give you wash over you.

Oxygen becoming as issue you pull back, staring into those deep pools of dark emerald, lust filling the pupils till the green you love so much is just a ring. “Dean please,” you gasp feeling him plunge his middle finger into your wet core.

Thrusting all the way till the knuckle, just resting there a few seconds before wiggling the digit brushing your walls as they clamp down. You’re not close, the tension in your stomach isn’t there yet, the tingles have barely started but you know it’s only a matter of minutes before Dean’ll have you a sobbing messing of passion. That he’ll not even be sorry for, which could you couldn’t blame him for either as you asked for it, coming into his room in the middle of the night. Barely dressed, body aching for his touch, to be filled with just Dean, in more ways than your sure he can give. But you’d take this, this little time together, the rush of passion and pleasure, the melding of two bodies to one.

That sinful mouth breaks your thoughts as it comes down upon yours. Taking what he wants, your moans, your taste, of mint from brushing your teeth and something that’s all you. In return you sample his, the whiskey you know he’s drank way too much of, hints of cinnamon and him. Off teeth snagging your lip, biting a little too hard but there’s pleasure in the pain as the hand on your neck drifts down your back edging the hem of your tank top.

Breaking apart, you lean forward panting, his long fingers, now two buried deep inside you, pushing and pulling slowly, teasing wanting to draw out the pleasure. Lips leaving open mouth kisses along your jaw, to your neck sucking bruises into your soft skin. Marking what’s his so the whole world will know. Though in the back of his mind he knows it’ll be no good his enemies will still come, still kill and take. But for now he’ll keep you safe in his arms right where you belong till the end of time if he has anything to say about it.

“You feel so good babe,” he breathes against the shell of your ear, nipping at the lobe before leaving his mark just behind the lobe.

Trailing his lips to your collarbone, biting down, hearing you hiss as you squirm atop him, his jeans quickly loosing room. As you push down against his hardening cock, rubbing your lower stomach against the denim covered erection. His fingers slid out of your now dripping core. Your hips desperately chasing the orgasm you know Dean can give you but is withholding, you roll them down trying to get him to finish what he’s started. To keep touching your dripping center, even if it’s those feather light touches that drive you crazy. It’d be something anything to appease the ache he’s built then abandoned.

“Dean,” you all but whine sitting back on your knees, a pout coving your lips.

Chuckling, bringing his fingers to his mouth, eyes locked with yours as he sucks them clean savoring each drop. “Sweet as honey,” grinning, he uses the hand at your back to pull the tank top from your frame.

Air hitting your breasts, making your nipples harden to points, while a sigh leaves your parted lips when rough callused hands cup each, testing the weight, giving each turgid peak a quick pinch. Head descending to draw the left areola deep into his mouth, sucking harshly. As the hand on your right squeezes. Molds and tugs knowing from past explorations of your body just how sensitive your breasts are. How with this alone he can make you cum, not as hard as if it’d be his hands and mouth or better yet his cock but still give you that euphoric feeling of bliss you crave. All because he knows your body better than you.

Your our hands push into his lush honey locks yanking, holding, then trying to pull him away when his wicked mouth becomes a little too much to handle. It’s got you withering in his lap, your legs having come to straddle his thighs when he sat up. Crotch pressed down, rocking over his jean covered cock trying to distract him, knowing it never works. Frustration rolls through you at his slow pace, hands slide down his back, pawing at the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric up as you arch backward long enough to pull the garment from his body.

Your focus broken when his mouth switches from one breast to the other giving it the same treatment, spare hand drifting low slipping once more below the waistband. Fingers seeking out your wet heat, drawing just barely through your folds dragging your juices, spreading them along as his fingers toy with your clit.

“Jesus Dean please,” you’re not above begging he knows it, drives you to it in fact.

Feeling the wicked smirk gracing his kiss swollen lips, as he gives your breast one last nip. Eyes raising to lock with yours, “What baby? What do you want?”

Drowning, it’s the only thing you can think right then. Even with his eyes so dark, a gleam of mischief, more like a promise of pleasure scorches your very soul. Try as you might, you can’t look away, only distraction you give is crashing your lips together rocking your hips against the hand sinking two fingers back into the warm depths of your core. Twisting, scissoring, and dragging those long rough digits against your spot making you whine into his mouth. He brings your right to the edge of bliss then backs off. Circling your clit with the pad of his thumb, mouth taking slow, greedy sips, tongue dipping retreating much like his fingers.

Two could play at this game you think. Short nails scoring down the planes of his muscular back, moving around his waist and back up the trail of abs to his chest. Tweaking his nipples between thumb and forefinger earning you a growl from where his head is buried in your neck. Grinning to yourself, bragging your soft hands back down to the waistband of his jeans. Toying with the button before popping it, the flat of your hand palming the prominent bulge. Gripping his length, giving it a light squeeze making his hips jump at your touch.

“Dangerous ground woman,” he growls into your ear before flipping the two of you over.

Hovering above your body, hand still firmly between your thighs the speed has started to pick up. This time, he adds pressure to your clit, chasing that orgasm for you. Watching you shake and spasm around him, back arching as your hands grip his biceps. Panting breath escaping your mouth, another growl in frustration pulled from those plush lips as Dean removes his fingers. Only to rip the remaining clothes from your body, a gasp the only sound hear. Except for the creak in springs from Dean’s quick move. Ducking between your legs, one tossed over his shoulder. The other held in place by his arm wrapped around your thigh using the fingers to hold open your folds. As his mouth assaults you sensitive pussy, tongue circling the tight nerve before sucking it deep within the warm confines of his delicious mouth. Three fingers deep in your core, pumping quick, crooking upwards to brush against your spot just right.

One hand cards through his hair, tugging the locks trying to keep hold on your sanity while the other gripes the bed sheet be nether you. That familiar tension growing in your lower belly, tingles lighting your nerve endings, toes curling.

“Let go baby,” he moans against your clit, sucking harder. “Cum for me love.”

His husky whisper is your undoing. How something so simple can make your body explored into thousands of tiny stars. Almost to the point you black out that’s how talented his mouth and fingers are. Not that you’d even tell him, though he knows. You try to regain normal breathing and heart rate patterns, which are thrown out the window when you hear the drop of jeans and belt. You have just enough time to look down watching Dean grip your ankles pulling your ass to the end of the bed. One leg laying against his chest the other bent at the knee and to the side. His own hand plumping his cock a few times, trying to draw in his own pleasure as pre-cum already weeps from the swollen red crown.

“Damn,” you manage to say before his positioning himself at your dripping pussy teasing the delicate, trembling folds with his cockhead.

All at once he’s thrusted inside your quivering walls, which grip him tightly, tugging him in deep. Curses flying from his lips, along with “So tight, feels good baby.”

His strong body comes to hover over yours, the leg against his chest pressed almost to yours as he drives him repeatedly. Your eyes locking for what felt like both the first and millionth time. Seeing so many emotions written in the dark depths. They make your body quiver under his, arms coming to wrap around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours. A melding of two souls, of two mouths battling to see who could draw what sounds from the other. Heads moving to get better access, his arms flexing beside your heads keeping him up while your own score down his back gaining a hiss from Dean.

Making him pull back, slowly his thrusts till there long and drawn out. Shooting you a smirk that turns into a groan when you clench your walls around his cock. Right leg wrapping around his waist, foot at the small of his back urging him on.

“Please,” you whisper feeling the flutter of a second orgasm start to form.

Sliding all the way out till just his cockhead rested at your entrance, Dean offers you a soft smile. Something different in the expression you hadn’t seen ever. Half way scaring you and giving you an added jolt of pleasure. Though you didn’t dare hope it could mean what you thought. He didn’t give you time to analyze those thoughts as he plunges home setting a fast, punishing pace that has you both writhing and moaning like no tomorrow. One arm holding him up as the other slips between your bodies toying with your clit adding the right pressure to have you seeing stars for the second time tonight.

Back arching against him, arms pulling him into your body as you convulse around him. Twitching, a sigh of pleasure leaving your parted panting lips. Eyes hazing from the passion, but you can make out Dean’s grunt of release, feel his seed seeping from your body were he painted your walls and quivering pussy. Having worked you through your own orgasm and in the meantime joined you in bliss. Falling into the cradle of your arms after letting the leg on his chest slide to the side.

Air breath panting over sweat slicked skin, his face buried in the crook of your neck placing soft kisses as your own hands run through his hair. His weight is heavy but welcomed, a reminder of the man you love. Even when your legs are going numb from hanging off the side. You turn your head to place nibbling kisses along his jaw, feeling the stubble abrade your lips.

Minutes later, having basked in the afterglow of your love making Dean manages to climb to his shaking feet. “You look like a new born just trying to walk Dean. I wear you out that much?”

Laughter sweet, deep and genuine leaves his lips as he tosses you a wink. “Hell no sweetheart you just rocked my world is all.”

“I’m that good huh?” you laugh watching his naked ass walk towards the bathroom.

He’d just turned his back for a few seconds and yet when he came back around your gone. His clothes back in place like everything had been a dream and it had. A very vivid imagined vision. Like he hadn’t touched you at all and truthfully he hadn’t not tonight anyway. It’d been months since the last time, he’d seen your bright e/c eyes shining at him. Beautiful h/c hair spread out over his chest, sun shining overhead giving the both of you warmth and light.

His mind seemed to love playing tricks on him. Driving him insane with memories so real, sounds, touches, smells all generated to make it as if he’s losing his mind. Though how can he not? The day you walked away, he lost so much more than just his mind, but his heart and soul. Feet heavy, Dean goes to sit on the hard mattress hand reaching for the bottle beside it, downing the last gulp in one go, cursing the mark burning hot on his arm. So angered by the memory he doesn’t think twice about flinging the glass against the far wall. Listening to it shatter just like his heart all over again.

Though there’s no one else to blame but himself. He’d pushed you away, told you to leave, that he’s nothing but poison and you listened. With tears in your eyes, you walked away and now he’s a shell of a man wishing you’d stayed with him.

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x You #supernatural #Angst #PWP #Smut #Spn Celebration Challenge #Repost

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javocjovian · 5 years

Text

How to Train Your Demon, SPN Bingo

Title: How to Train Your Demon Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444402/chapters/43663598 Square Filled: Caning Ship: Dain (Dean x Cain) Rating: E Warnings: Pain/Pleasure Play, BDSM, Cock and Ball Abuse WITHOUT Torture Tags: Dom!Cain, Sub!Dean, masochist!Dean, Bondage, Blindfolds, Chains, mixed Pain and Pleasure, Orgasm Control, Forced Confessions, Punishment, mild Cock&Ball Abuse, mild Footplay Summary: Dean goes to Cain for help controlling the Mark’s urges, but Cain gives him a lesson in controlling himself. Word Count: 3139 Created for @spnkinkbingo Beta-ed by @fpwoper

Quote:

Cain went from Dean’s balls to his hole without any rhythm whatsoever, denying Dean’s ability to prepare himself for either. It was torture. Dean wanted to rip the chains from the floor and touch himself, or get down on the floor and fuck something. After one particularly electrifying slap to his hole, Dean had a wild desire for Cain to slide the cane in and fuck him with the damned thing.

(x)

How To Train Your Demon

Dean was kneeling on the floor of a rustic cabin, counting his breaths slowly and carefully. An antique rug and coffee table had been pushed aside, leaving a wide, wooden space in the middle of the floor for Dean to be chained to. He was completely naked, with long red marks covering his back. The only other noticeable mark on his body was the Mark of Cain, stretched tight over the taut, strained muscle of his forearm. There was no fire lit in the fireplace, but he was sweating profusely.

Dean’s wrists were chained to the floor on either side of him, holding him down, while his hips and calves were tied with a series a ropes attached to metal rings on the floor, holding his knees apart with his ass resting on his heels. He could move his upper body if he really wanted to, but it didn’t do him much good. He was trapped.

Small sounds disrupted his counting, and he concentrated instead on the sharp footsteps circling him predatorily. He could only listen to them because, on top of everything else, he was blindfolded.

With a narrow rush of air and a whip-like sound, a new mark was added to Dean's back. His body lit up with the sensation, making Dean gasp and then whine futilely.

“You can do better than that.” A low, drawling voice coated the room. It was patient but severe, and it sent angry chills down Dean’s spine.

Another hit, and Dean bit back his surprise, instead trembling as the sensation hit him all at once and then spread nice and slow, licking down bound muscle and limb.

“Come on, Dean,” Cain goaded.

It wasn't pain that was making Dean writhe and pant, it was something much more unendurable, and Cain was forcing him to to do just that: endure it. Cain rapped a rhythm against his palm with the narrow piece of wood and observed the marks on Dean’s back. The marks were red and harsh, but none of them had broken the skin. Dean’s back bore the appearance of a practiced wielder; one determined to pleasure, not punish. Yet, with a cane, a little of both was unavoidable.

“That’s it. Control it. Fight it!” Cain snarled.

Dean snarled back, and Cain rapped him with the rod again, making Dean growl deep in his throat and keen forward. It didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, it felt so good Dean wanted to cry, but he refused to let himself sink that low.

He remembered going to Cain for help controlling the Mark. Cain said it couldn’t be done. It was his own impulses that he needed to control so that the Mark couldn’t use them against him. But if Dean had known this was what Cain had in mind, would he have turned away?

Another crack, and Dean knew the answer was no.

Dean thrashed his head to the side, but he kept quiet. Cain smiled.

“Good, Dean,” Cain soothed. He swept a calloused hand over the marks on Dean’s back, making Dean shiver and tilt his head to the side. Cain removed his hand, and Dean felt filthy for enjoying it. He sucked in a breath and tried to control himself as Cain dragged the tip of the instrument down Dean’s raw, flushed back. He couldn’t help but squirm slightly at the fresh wave of sensations, and he felt Cain respond with a wooden slap to his shoulder.

“I said control it,” Cain criticized. “If you want to control the Mark, this is how you do it!”

“Right,” Dean panted, feeling self-conscious. “Because this is how Lucifer trained you, huh? Tied you naked to the floor?”

Cain observed him sharply, and for a moment Dean thought he crossed the line. Then Cain said, “Don’t make me gag you,” and continued pacing.

As tempted as he was to retort, he didn’t think he could handle a gag. This had already surpassed Dean’s darkest fantasies, and he wasn’t sure he could walk away from it whole if he lost all sense of control.

Cain dragged the tip of the instrument up and over Dean’s glistening shoulder. “You have no idea what Lucifer did to me. Consider yourself lucky.”

Dean was silent. He felt the cane drag over his collarbone as Cain walked around his front. Then the dragging, unnerving sensation vanished, replaced with another sharp slap, this time to Dean’s chest. Dean keened slightly in surprise.

Then he struck Dean’s chest, making Dean flinch and suck in a sharp breath. Cain proceeded to give Dean a series of lashes over his chest that were rhythmic and light, but were almost harder to endure than the hard, sharp smacks. Dean’s breathing was quickening, like the air in his lungs was being replaced by the rapid sensations. Just as he felt his lungs burn with the need to breathe, Cain stopped. Dean gasped for air. He could feel his skin throbbing in the absence of the cane.

As Dean’s senses came back to him, he realized that Cain had moved closer. He could feel his presence like a storm cloud looming over him. Dean became self-conscious again and tried to close his legs, but the ropes kept him open and vulnerable.

Out of the silence, Dean felt the cane again, this tapping a steady trail down his stomach. Dean somehow knew it was going to happen before it did and, sure enough, he felt the cane tap Dean’s bare erection. His whole body shivered like he’d been hit on the back. He bit his lips and swallowed a whine.

“Be still,” Cain commanded.

Dean began counting his breaths again. It had helped him endure the caning to his back, but he had no idea if it would help now. He could only try.

One.

The tip of the cane dragged down Dean’s cock.

Two.

Cain tapped the swollen head.

Three...

The cane dropped and lifted Dean’s cock, like Cain was observing it.

Four.

Did Dean say four aloud? He couldn’t think straight. The cane was skimming Dean’s cock up and down, then dragged along his inner thigh.

Five.

Dean gasped as the cane hit his inner thigh, right along the crease of his pelvis. He tried to close his legs again, but the chains responded indifferently and kept him splayed for the next hit. Dean could hear the whoosh of air and braced himself for it, but it still took the breath out of him.

“Control it, Dean. Fight it!”

“I am!” Dean shouted hoarsely.

Cain slapped him again, and when Dean failed to keep quiet, Cain didn’t respond. He gave Dean a brief reprieve for which he was thankful.

His inner thighs were so sensitive. Even a light hit would have drawn a response out of him. How on Earth was he supposed to endure that? Not to mention his cock was so hard it was pushing out every thought in his head.

Cain seemed to change tactics then. When the cane returned it was lighter. It dragged along Dean’s muscular thigh, then back up towards his cock. Then it rubbed under Dean’s ass. Cain watched in satisfaction as Dean’s neck flushed. His breathing slowed deliberately, until Cain found what he was looking for. With a flick of his wrist, he tapped Dean’s balls smartly. Dean looked like he’d been electrocuted. The floor groaned under him and his restraints shook noisily.

“Control it,” Cain repeated.

Dean bit his lips, but the sensations were just pilling atop one another. Cain went from slapping Dean’s inner thighs, to caressing and smacking his balls, and it was driving Dean insane. He bit down hard enough to draw blood, then stopped, realizing Cain might gag him just to keep him from hurting himself. One well-aimed hit had the cool wood landing perfectly on Dean’s exposed hole, and he groaned. He actually groaned. Dean’s heart sank in embarrassment and he shut up fast after that. He knew Cain was smiling.

Yet, all of the stimulation produced the desired result: Dean was shaking and sweating, but he was silent. Suddenly, Cain stopped, and Dean was left breathless again.

“Dean.”

Dean’s head drooped onto his chest, so Cain picked his chin up. He held him there, blindfolded and staring at nothing while Cain’s stormy eyes took in his form. “Silence does not equal acceptance. Just because you are quiet does not mean you are conquering your pain.”

“Then what do you want from me?” Dean slurred.

“I want you to fight. I want you to feel, and release your pain. I want you to let it hurt and then push it out! I want you to admit to what you want, and not let it control you!”

Another slap to Dean’s hole, and Dean tried to thrash, only managed to shove his face in Cain’s hand. Cain grabbed Dean by the jaw and slapped his stomach with more force than before.

Dean shouted in surprise, but Cain did it again.

“Tell me what you want! Say it!”

“Ab… Abaddon. Dead.”

Another slap. “Wrong! Tell me what you want.”

Dean tried to thrash, but Cain’s grip was as strong as the chains.

“I want to… to save Sam...”

Another slap, this time breaking the skin across Dean’s upper stomach. Dean growled in pain, feeling his cock twitch uncontrollably.

“Again!”

The cane found Dean’s erection and lifted it dangerously. Precome seeped onto the wood and Dean thrashed in apprehension. But it seemed the contact lifted some barrier in Dean’s mind and, without any hesitation, he breathed, “I want to come.”

Cain stared down at him, then gently smacked Dean’s cock, “Well done, Dean.”

Dean shuddered and groaned.

Cain slapped his cock with the rod again, watching Dean flush.

“Controlling it doesn’t mean denying it. It means conquering it,” Cain instructed, punctuating his words with his cane and watching Dean’s mind slowly deteriorate. “So you are going to endure this. I will let you come, but only after you’ve earned it.” Cain stopped slapping him so Dean could respond. Dean was already a mess, but he collected himself enough to stammer, “H...how?”

“One hundred. I want you to count to hundred. If you mess up, you start over. You may come only after you’ve reached one hundred,” Cain said clearly.

Dean swallowed a rush of debilitating arousal and nodded.

“You may begin.”

Dean took a deep breath and counted,“One...,” then immediately shouted as the cane smacked his inner thigh, “Fuck!”

“Start over.”

Dean took another steadying breath. “One.” Cain slapped him again, but this time Dean gritted his teeth and said, “Two...” The cane moved down and resumed lightly slapped his cock, occasionally surprising him with a slap to his balls, or worse, his now pulsing hole. “T...three...”

Dean got to five before Cain really hit him hard again. He hit his stomach this time, making Dean keen forward. Cain grabbed his jaw and forced him to sit up straight. Dean didn’t resist, just kept counting blindly.

He got to ten, then stifled another shout as Cane left a red line on across his nipple. After a few more hits, both of Dean’s nipples were reddened and puckered. Dean cursed internally for feeling so good. His whole body was vibrating with heavy pleasure.

There were only two spots on Dean’s body that were not being lashed while Dean counted: Dean’s forearm, where the Mark of Cain lay, and the open cut across Dean’s upper stomach from where Cain punished him. Dean couldn’t feel either spots anymore. Every inch of his body felt like it was expanding, leaving him endlessly vulnerable to each hit in a vicious cycle of pleasure and pain.

Dean wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to fifty already. He wondered what would happen if he came before he reached one hundred. The thought distracted him, and an unexpected smack to the fleshy rounds of Dean’s ass made him lose count. He went backwards, realized it at once, and cut himself off and went silent. The cane stopped on his ass and drew away.

“Dean. Did I say to stop counting?”

Dean sat there in his frustration for a moment, then he understood what Cain wanted. He didn’t want silence, or frustration, he wanted Dean to move on with what he knew had to be done. With lips tight, he repeated, “One.”

Cain nodded in approval. “Very good.” As if to reward him, he dragged the cane over Dean’s nipples and down his side. It would have tickled had Dean not been so aroused. By then again, his skin was so tender that even a light touch felt overstimulating. It almost made Dean slip up again, but he got to five soon enough. From five to thirty, Cain went all out. Dean’s cock and balls were stimulated constantly, and his inner thighs were red and throbbing. His stomach and chest hadn’t escaped the torment either, especially after Cain found a sweet spot between Dean’s cock and belly button that was just as sensitive as his inner thighs. That, too, bore the marks of the cane.

Once Dean got to fifty again, his endurance recharged. Cain must had sensed this, because he walked around Dean and smacked his ass from behind. He had better access to Dean’s hole this way, which Cain abused thoroughly. He went from fast, light taps to swift, solid smacks. The muscles pulsed in the aftershock and Dean moaned out the numbers.

Then Cain found his feet. He tested the rod against Dean’s stretched soles, making Dean jump. He had no idea he was so sensitive there. He almost lost count again, but he was at ninety already and he refused to let anything conquer him now. Cain dragged the tip of the rod over Dean’s soles, sending sparks of pleasure and pain to Dean’s leaking cock. Then he smacked the taut skin and Dean groaned through his teeth.

“Ninety-five.”

Cain smacked Dean’s hole and rubbed the cane back and forth over the quivering muscle.

“N...ninety-six.”

He stalked around Dean, letting the rod drag over his hips and thighs.

“Ninety-seven.”

He stopped in front of Dean and touched the rod to his leaking tip of his cock.

Dean lurched and trembled. “Ninety-eight.”

Cain couldn’t believe he’d overlooked this particular hotspot. He aimed the rod for Dean’s swollen cockhead and delivered several swift yet tantalizingly light taps to the slit. Dean’s chest swelled and gaped silently.

“Ninety-nine...” Dean shuddered.

Cain kept it up, repeatedly tapping Dean’s head so that his whole cock felt like it was vibrating from its most sensitive point. It felt so good it hurt, sending unbearable sparks up Dean’s entire body that paralyzed him in the beginnings of a deep orgasm.

“One hundred.”

Cain withdrew the rod and looked Dean over, a subtle smile lifting his beard. “Good, Dean. You did so well.”

Dean gasped like he’d been holding his breath and just hovered there on the edge of too perfect pleasure.

“What do you want, Dean?”

“I want to come.”

Cain’s gaze sharpened. He got down on one knee so that he could whisper directly to Dean, “Then come.” Then he gave a swift flick to Dean’s cock-head and rubbed it slowly. Dean keened on the spot. His whole body lurched and his hips fought his restraints. Cain gripped his shoulder to steady him. “Control it, Dean. Master it.”

Dean grit his teeth and slammed his eyes shut to still himself while his orgasm burst out of him. He soaked the floor and painted the cane with his release, shaking violently. Cain kept tapping him, drawing his spasms out, and Dean just focused on Cain’s grip on his shoulder. He whined and groaned in his throat but didn’t move. His orgasm deepened even more for being restrained, both physically and by Cain’s command, and Dean nearly whited out from the force of it. A tear escaped his eyes and he couldn’t have cared less. He would have cried freely if he had the power, but his body was beyond control. Finally he shuddered to a halt and his body relaxed. Dean gasped like he’d come out of water. “Good.” Cain released his shoulder and stood back to let Dean catch his breath.

While Cain’s heart would always belong to Colette, there was no denying the breathtaking beauty of Dean’s human body taut and glistening in the throes of pleasure, completely undone and at Cain’s mercy. There was nothing in Heaven or Hell like it, he was sure of it.

Cain removed the blindfold, then tipped Dean’s chin up with the end of the rod. Cain was smiling darkly. Dean knew he looked a mess, but he didn’t care. He felt like his body was hovering above his restraints, like a helium balloon trying to bob against the ceiling.

“I’m beginning to enjoy being proven wrong by you, Dean. You are worthy of this Mark.”

Dean didn’t know what he was talking about, and frankly he didn’t care.

“But perhaps I’ve pushed you too far for our first session.”

“First?” Dean swallowed thickly.

Cain removed himself and the rod from Dean, “Yes. I will continue teaching you to control yourself, if you wish.” He wiped the cane down with a rag before setting it down. “In return, the Mark’s lust will be easier to quell, as should your own.” Cain knelt down behind Dean and begin untying the bindings. “Don’t answer now. Think about it when you’ve recovered.”

“How thoughtful,” Dean managed.

The corner of Cain’s lips twitched. “Don’t act surprised. Lucifer invented consent.”

Dean didn’t want to think about that. Once he was freed, Cain helped him to the couch where Dean fumbled with his jeans for a moment before collapsing on his back. He seemed to regret it, then realized his front was just as bad and gave up.

“Did they name the cane after you?” Dean mumbled.

Cain smirked. “Of course they did.”

Dean dozed off with the responding smile lingering on his lips.

Cain put his living room back in order while Dean napped. After that, he covered Dean with a blanket and lit a small fire. Perhaps Dean could handle the Mark, unlike Cain. And if not, well, then he’d a damned fine Knight of Hell anyway. Cain returned to his office, satisfied that he’d see Dean again very soon.

#spnkinkbingo #supernatural #dean winchester #deanwinchester #cain #mark of cain #dean winchester x cain #caning #archive of our own #My writing #sarasaurusrex #fanfiction #fanfic

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nastybuckybarnes · 6 years

Text

Ocean Eyes - Five

Steve Rogers X Mermaid!Reader Mini Series

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Female!Mermaid!Reader

Summary: After a long night of Disney movies, you wake up only to be surprised first thing in the morning. And that’s only the beginning of a very eventful day.

Warnings: Fluff, Minor angst, Embarrassment, Singing, Fluffy Smut (NOT super Graphic/Detailed but still... it’s smut),

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: Gosh darnit it’s getting hard to find motivation to write this series. I’m so sorry it’s taking me so long to update. I’m trying my hardest to. I have part two of passing notes coming soon as well so... yeah. Enjoy!

EDITED VERY POORLY

Series Masterlist Masterlist First Part

Marvel, Spn, and Forever Tags are open!

You wake up cradled against a warm chest, your legs tangled up in blankets and someone else's legs.

Gently, so gently that you hardly notice it at first, fingers trail over your spine. Up then back down then back up. Over and over again until you’re subconsciously arching your back into the touch.

The chest you’re lying on rumbles with a chuckle and you slowly peel your eyes open, glancing upwards to the face that belongs to the body beneath you.

“Good morning (Y/n).” Steve’s voice is a husky whisper, raspy, deep, and thick with sleep.

A beautiful voice if ever you’ve heard one.

“Good morning Steve.” His body shivers below you at the sound of your morning voice. “How’d you sleep?” One of his hands slowly finds it’s way to your hair and you smile lightly, pressing your cheek to his chest again. “I slept well, thank you.” He massages your scalp for a few silent minutes until the sun peaking through the curtains shines in your eyes, forcing you to turn your head.

“As comfortable as I am right now Doll, I gotta get up and get ready for my morning run. It’s almost six.” You sigh and shift so that your legs are on either side of his torso, pushing yourself up to a seated position.

Steve’s hands find your hips automatically and he looks up at you in awe as the sun shines behind you, bathing you in it’s bright rays. “You look beautiful.” The words slip out of his mouth quickly, before he realizes them.

You smile timidly and look down at where your hands are resting on his abs. “Thank you Steve.” His thumbs rub small circles on the skin of your thighs and you let your eyes close lightly. You take a shallow breath in then slowly get off of his lap and make your way to the kitchen.

Steve breathes deeply for a moment then gets off of the couch and follows after you, grabbing your hand and spinning you around to face him. He pushes you gently against the fridge and frames your waist with his hands.

“(Y/n)... I know we haven’t known each other for very long but... I... I think you’re an amazing woman and I... I want...” He groans in frustration and ducks his head down, pressing his lips to yours quickly.

You’re startled beyond belief, your hands coming up in surprise and hovering in the air for a moment before resting on his shoulders as you lean into the kiss. He pulls back suddenly, looks down, looks back up, then curses.

“I uh.. I’m sorry that... that wasn’t...” he clears his throat and pulls away from you, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I gotta go.” He turns on his heel and jogs to the stairwell so quickly you don’t even have a moment to process what’s happening.

Your shoulders slump forwards as your fingers come up to touch your lips, the feel of Steve’s still lingering. Your eyelids flutter closed and you smile lightly at the thought.

Steve Rogers kissed you.

“(Y/n)? Why are you up so early?” Peter’s groggy voice asks. You open your eyes and look over to where the boy is sitting on the couch, rubbing his eyes while yawning.

“I uh... Steve woke up and I heard him get up.” You look at your feet while making your way to the couch across from Peter. “What shall we do today?” You ask softly. He smiles and looks towards the flatscreen.

“Star Wars marathon,” he says immediately. You grin at his clear excitement and nod. “Sure. I’d like to first change my clothes and take a shower or something but then I’ll be back down here and we can start the marathon.” He grins and jumps up. “Yeah of course! I’ll do the same then we can meet back down here in.... less than an hour?” You shrug, not fully grasping their version of time, and head towards the elevator.

During the ride to Steve’s floor, you contemplate what you’ll do or say if you see him. Deciding against creating a speech, you follow your instincts.

“Steve?” You call softly while opening the door to his suite.

No answer.

You frown and walk to the bathroom, peeking inside.

Nothing.

Heaving a sigh, you close the bathroom door behind yourself and strip off Steve’s shirt and your panties before doing everything you need to do in the bathroom.

Once you’re clean you wrap a towel around yourself and make your way out to Steve’s main bedroom, looking around while biting your lip. You walk over to his dresser and carefully look through his clothes, taking a blue t-shirt out and a pair of grey sweatpants. You slip the pants on and pull the shirt over your head, giggling at the fit.

You run your fingers lightly through your damp hair then make your way out of Steve’s room and up to the common area where Peter is waiting.

“Oh yeah you don’t have any of your own clothes! Right!” Peter exclaims upon seeing you. You shrug and plop yourself down on the couch next to him. “Steve’s clothes will suffice for now, as long as it doesn’t bother him.” Peter nods then grabs two canned drinks before starting the movie. “I think he likes you,” he whispers after a minute.

A smile spreads on your lips as you think back to what happened in the kitchen. “I hope so.”

Three movies, four bags of popcorn, and two helpings of leftovers later, Steve and Bucky come into the common room.

Peter pauses the movie and looks up at the two super soldiers.

“Hey guys. Care to join us in a Star Wars marathon?” Your eyes move to Steve and you frown as he avoids your gaze. “Sure. Steve and I could relax a bit. He’s been dragging me around the city all day for ‘fresh air’.” Bucky rolls his eyes while plopping down in the same armchair he sat in last night.

Steve’s eyes stay on your figure as he slowly sits down on the couch opposite of the one you and Peter are on. “Steve,” you whisper while nodding your head. He nods once then looks down at his lap. You feel a strange emotion settle in your gut and frown. “Uh Peter? Can you um... help me please? I’d really like to do something but I’ll need your help.” Peter stands up and helps you to your feet with a sad look on his face. “You okay?” he asks softly. You glance over at Steve, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before he looks away, then shake your head no. “Okay, let’s... go.” He pulls you to the elevator and you sigh as the doors close.

“Steve kissed me this morning in the kitchen,” you whisper. Peter’s eyes widen and he smiles. “That’s great! Why are you... upset then?” You close your eyes as they start to sting.

“Because he ran off after and now he’ll hardly look at me. I don’t know what I did wrong. I just...” You trail off as the doors open on Peter’s floor. “He’s just kinda... old fashioned. Give him time.”

You shake your head and follow him out of the elevator. “Is there any place I could go with an abundance of water? I miss home.” He ponders this for a moment then nods. “There’s a saltwater and a chlorine pool on the lower level. You’ll need some kind of swimsuit though.”

You sigh heavily.

“I’m sure we can get a swimsuit within the hour... We can order one online and have it sent here on extreme express shipping. I’m sure Mister Stark won’t mind.” You nod and follow him into his room, sitting down on his bed as he grabs his laptop. “Here. You can order a bathing suit and then either have it delivered right away or we could walk to the store so you can try it on.”

“Maybe we can go for a walk. It’ll be nice to get some fresh air.” Peter nods and closes his laptop while grabbing a sweater. You excuse yourself and find Wanda, borrowing a loose-fitting dress for your walk with Peter.

When the two of you return, it’s nearly eight p.m. and Peter is starving. “You go have dinner. I’m going to go swimming.” Peter hesitates before the elevator on the main floor. “I feel a tad homesick. Swimming will help me. You’ve spent the whole day with me today, it’s only fair that you go spend some time with your real family.” He frowns at your choice of words. “You’re my family too now (Y/n).” He hugs you tightly then turns to the elevator as the doors open. “I’ll come see you after dinner, okay?” You shrug and watch as the doors close.

As soon as you’re alone you swing the clothing bags lightly while making your way towards the indoor pool. As you push the frosted glass door open you’re hit with warmth and the smell of saltwater.

You gently place the bag with a few outfits in it on the ground beside a lounge chair and carefully pull your new bathing suit out. It’s a simple black one-piece that accentuates your curves -in a good way!- more than you thought it would upon first glance.

You change into it quickly then walk over to the deep end of the pool, crouching down to carefully dip your fingers into the water to test its temperature.

A smile spreads across your lips and you stand up only to dive into the water. As soon as you’re submerged you feel a sense of calm. Your eyes open under the water and look down at your legs, kicking them one at a time until you’re breaking the surface. You push your wet hair out of your face and rub your eyes gently, taking a deep breath in through your nose and sighing at the smell of the saltwater.

“Peter said you’d be here,” a voice says softly. You look over to the source. Steve stands in the doorway, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “Homesick?” He asks while walking forwards, toeing off his shoes and pulling his socks off on the way. “You could say that. It’s not that I’m not grateful for everything you guys are doing, I really am. It’s just... the water is where I belong. It’s where I’ve lived for my entire life. Either with my pod or with Hydra. I was aways in the water.” He nods and comes to the edge of the pool.

“Mind if I join you?” You look up at him for a moment then shrug, turning away from him and swimming carefully through the water, getting a feel for your legs in the water. There’s the sound of a soft splash, signalling that Steve’s in the water.

You keep your back to him and try not to think about what happened in the kitchen.

“(Y/n). Look at me. Please?” You turn around and gasp as you come face to face with Steve.

He’s less than four inches from your face.

“I’m sorry. About the kitchen. I’m sorry for running away after. I just... I was scared. I just met you and already I can’t imagine... I don’t want to imagine life without you. That scares me.” You exhale slowly then nod. “I forgive you.”

One of his hands moves to your waist and you smile lightly. “I’d like to, if it’s okay with you, try that kiss again?” You take his other hand and slowly swim out of the deep end until your feet rest against the pool floor.

“Please, Steve. Kiss me.”

He gently cups your cheeks, his big hands pulling your face up as he ducks his own head down to meet you halfway. His lips are hesitant and soft against yours, afraid to push you too far yet desperate to deepen the kiss.

You push yourself onto your tiptoes and gently pull on his lower lip. He’s surprised, but goes with it, leaning down and kissing you with force. Your hands find his hair and he smiles against your lips, so caught up in the moment that he loses his footing and slips forwards, accidentally pushing you under the water with him.

You surface quickly and giggle as Steve’s cheeks flush a pretty shade of embarrassment pink. “You know... my pod used to sing the most beautiful songs. They were... mesmerizing. Hypnotizing. And... I’m forgetting them. Im forgetting one of the best parts... one of the most distinctive parts of myself.” As you speak you pull yourself out of the water so just your legs are in, dangling off the pool ledge.

“Could you... could you sing to me what you remember?” He asks softly while making his way towards you. He wraps his arms under your knees and rests his chin on your right thigh while looking up at you with those eyes that are impossible to resist.

“Sure. I must warn you though, you will feel... strange.” He nods and closes his eyes as you thread your fingers through his hair, humming softly.

You slowly start vocalizing what you remember of the songs from your pod, a smile playing on your features as Steve starts tracing doodles on the skin of your left thigh.

Your song comes to a close and Steve opens his eyes. “Wow,” he whispers softly. You shrug and look away, biting your bottom lip lightly. “We’ll figure out how to fix you, I promise.” His voice holds so much passion that it almost physically hurts to know his words may not be true. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Steve.”

His eyes get fierce, similar to the way you saw them upon first meeting him, and he interlocks your fingers. “I never make promises I can’t keep. We will fix you. You’ll be happy and back to your normal self in no time. And then you... You can leave the tower forever. Go somewhere where you’ll be safe from us. From humans.” He looks down as the weight of his own words hit him. “Steve,” you pull one of your hands free from his grip and bring your fingers beneath his chin, lifting his head so he’s forced to look at you.

“When.. If you guys somehow... miraculously find a way to fix this,” you motion to your legs, “I don’t... need to go back to the sea forever. I can find the remainder of my pod and then come back. Visit you.” He smiles weakly and shakes his head. “It’ll be hard to have you so close yet just out of reach.” Your stomach does a flip and you nod.

“Steve, you must understand that this isn’t the ideal situation. I wish I could stay with you but I have an obligation and a duty to fulfil. I need to find the rest of my people.” He lets go of you and pads through the water, stopping when he’s a few meters away from you. “Steve... I don’t wish to upset you.” You lower yourself back into the water and make your way over to him. He stays still, his back facing you.

“Just because I have a limited amount of time here with you doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy that time.” Your arms snake around his waist hesitantly, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. “I realize that, but it’s hard to enjoy it because I know I’m going to lose you. No matter what happens, I’ll be without you.” You frown and walk around so that you’re in front of him, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

“A thing is not beautiful because it lasts. If beauty lasted we would become accustomed to it and it would no longer be enjoyable. So let us enjoy this time we have together. Let us experience what we can in the short time provided.” A tear slips down his cheek and he nods slowly. You tug him down a bit and stand up on your tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back and looking up at him again.

“There is so much I want you to show me Steve. Please don’t be sad. Help me to live this experience to the fullest.” He nods and kisses your lips one last time. “Lets go up to my floor. We can figure out what to do after we’re changed.” You nod and let go pf him, watching as he swims to the edge then pulls himself out of the pool. He goes into a cupboard and grabs two large towels.

“C’mon out,” he coaxes, “we can always come back and swim again.”

You slowly make your way out of the pool, taking deep breaths in through your nose to try and enjoy the scent for as long as you can.

"We'll come back. I promise." He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you towards the door, wrapping a towel around you along the way. He wraps his own around his waist and picks up your bags. You bend and scoop up your clothes off of the floor, straightening then walking with Steve out of the room.

You're immediately struck by a gust of cool air, the hair on your arms raising. Steve wraps his arm around your waist tightly and pulls you against his side, his body warming yours. You enter the elevator and lean your head against Steve's shoulder, eyes flicking around the confined space as it moves up. "What do you want to do?" He asks in a soft whisper. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath before looking up at him.

"I..." You get overcome by shyness and look away from him. "What? Don't be shy Doll. You can tell me what you want to do."

The doors open and he ushers you into the bedroom. He sets your bags down on the desk and digs through his drawers. You walk to the bookcase and trail your fingers against the spines.

"Quite a few of my sisters and friends... went on land with their mates. They... experienced things that I've never experienced as a mermaid. Something I... might not even experience as a human." Steve stops moving, his eyes on your back.

"In all my life... I never found someone who I was drawn to. Someone I would do anything for. Be anyone for. Never had I met someone who I'd be willing to drop all my responsibilities for. Until now." You hear him walk to you, his hands hesitantly resting on your sides.

“I know you feel something for me, however among my people... our courting practices are different than yours. We have mates. Not... ‘boyfriends’.” You spin around in his arms and look up at him.

“What does a mate do?” He asks softly.

“My mate will protect me from any danger. He’ll listen to me, love me, support me. He’ll be prepared to face challenges with me. And when we are ready to actually mate, he’ll be gentle with me while giving me an experience like no other.” Steve’s eyes widen. “As you can see, a mate for mermaids is a... very serious thing. Both parties must accept to be a mate and request to be a mate before they can be considered true mates.” Steve nods, deep in thought for a moment before smiling at you.

“So if I... if I asked to be your mate, you would have to ask to be mine?” You nod your head yes. “And... how does the asking process go? And after the two are mated? Are there any serious... effects after?” You gently trace his features.

“There is no specific asking process. And when the two are mated, after becoming true mates, they’ll feel a bond unlike any other. Being apart will be difficult. It will tear at the two of them. They will become acutely aware of the other. What they’re feeling. When apart they will feel as though they are missing a piece of themselves. Or so I’ve been told. I have never actually experienced this.” Steve nods again and kisses the tip of your nose.

“(Y/n). I want to be your mate. Will you accept me as your mate?” You look up into his eyes as a feeling of peace washes over you. “I accept. Steve, I would like to be your mate. Will you accept me as your mate?” He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks as a shiver rolls down his spine.

“I accept.”

Heat fills your body, starting at your toes and spreading throughout the rest of you. Steve inhales deeply and leans his forehead against yours, feeling something similar to what you feel as your fingers press gently into his bare chest. He dips his head down and kisses your lips passionately, a new hunger overtaking him.

His hands grab the towel around your body and tears it off, tossing it to the floor. Your hands find his hair and you tug on it gently, smiling into the kiss as he groans against your mouth. His hands move to the undersides of your thighs and he hoists you up, spinning quickly and placing you down on the bed.

You pull away from the kiss, desperate for air.

Steve kisses down your neck, stopping once he gets to the strap of your bathing suit. He looks up at you, raises his eyebrows, then tears the material clean off of your body.

You gasp as an entirely new feeling fills your body, starting from between your legs.

“Steve. Please. I... I need you.” His eyes darken and he pulls off his boxers, hovering over you on his forearms.

You need him. You need to feel him. To touch him.

Your hands move over his biceps, nails scraping gently as he aligns himself with your entrance. “It might feel... uncomfortable. I’m not exactly average sized. Especially for a virgin.”

You dig your nails into his back and look up into his eyes, “it won’t hurt. You are made for me. I am not fragile.”

He kisses your lips while sliding his length through your folds, collecting your arousal and lubricating his long, thick shaft. You wrap your legs around his waist and he takes that as his cue to push in, the tip stretching you deliciously before he nudges a few more inches inside of your heat.

“God you’re tight,” he hisses under his breath. You whimper lightly as your walls adjust to his size. He kisses your neck then pushes the rest of the way in, stopping once he’s bottomed out inside of you.

You throw your head back in ecstasy, a completely new feeling overwhelming you. Steve gasps against your skin, his eyes shut tightly to enjoy the feeling. “Wh-what’s happening?” He asks in breathless whisper.

You smile and kiss the top of his head. “We are becoming mated. It’s nearly complete.” He kisses your lips again, lifting his hips off of yours then thrusting back inside of you.

You gasp against his mouth, breathing in his every breath and moaning against his mouth as he initiates a kiss that is all teeth and tongue. His thrusts are deep, gentle, and smooth; hitting the perfect spot inside of you every time.

Your lips are pressed against his still, mouths open as you both pant hard. “Steve... I... Oh...” You can’t find words as a knot tightens in your lower stomach, pleasure increasing as he speeds up.

You bite down on his bottom lip as the knot explodes, your body shaking beneath Steve’s. “I’m gonna cum,” he breathes, thrusting even faster.

You lock your legs around his waist and gasp again as a warmth fills where the two of you are connected.

An electricity unlike any other sizzles through your whole body, attacking your nerves with the sense of a deep rooted happiness. Steve collapses against your strong, lithe body, sweat covering his brow.

You card your fingers through his hair, enjoying the lingering feeling of the electricity as you catch your breath under the comforting body of your mate.

Part Six

Tags:

Forever: @wildefire @inumorph

Ocean Eyes:

@spacequeenstuff @wintersoldierbaby

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