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amourcri3s · 15 days ago

Note

hi bee i have a request! could you please write about sleeping next to dean and accidentally waking him up bc you farted too loud? like an ass-roaring type of fart?

sorry if you’ve written this before lol xx

hi fig, in my recent post i said i wasn’t taking new requests but i will make an exception for you♡ i actually have done something similar in the past here but i’ll change ‘er up !!

cw: bedsharing.ᐟ domestic!dean.ᐟ soft cuddles.ᐟ stormy night comfort.ᐟ slight tummy issues.ᐟ pet name [baby].ᐟ

you were tucked under dean’s arm, warm and half-asleep, your cheek pressed to the stretch of skin just under his collarbone. his heartbeat was slow and comforting.

outside, the rain pattered against the bunker walls. it was one of those rare nights where everything felt quiet— no hunts, no nightmares. just the soft weight of him beside you, the rise and fall of his chest, his hand resting heavy on your hip.

“you’re like a little furnace,” he murmured, lips brushing your hair. you smiled, eyes fluttering closed. safe, held, full of comfort.

thirty minutes later. your stomach was not at peace. damn that greasy cheese pizza dean had ordered for dinner.

you blinked into the dark, brows pinching as a low gurgle rolled through your gut. long and angry, like the call of some ancient beast awakening from a cursed slumber.

dean didn’t stir, which was good, because something bad was coming.

you tried to hold it in. clenched your cheeks like your life depended on it, maybe this too would pass.

it did not pass.

the moment you relaxed— just the slightest— it tore free with the force of a jet engine. a violent, no-holds-barred ass explosion that ripped through the silence like a thunderclap.

the blankets lifted off the bed. the sheets fluttered. the dog tags on dean’s nightstand rattled. and your soul left your body.

“the fu— was that your ass?” he asked, voice still raspy but very much awake.

“no, dean that wasn’t me!” you said immediately, too fast, too guilty.

he turned his head slowly to look at you, face half lit by the lamp, expression unreadable. “baby, you just shook the whole mattress. that’s disgusting.”

you buried your face in his chest, praying the earth would swallow you whole. “i was relaxed! blame it on the cheese pizza dean, i didn’t mean to—”

dean blinked at you, eyes wide with shellshock. he opened his mouth to say something— then your stomach growled again, louder, longer.

his expression went from shocked to terrified. looking at you like a biological hazard.

“oh hell no.” he tossed the blanket off like it was on fire. “absolutely not. i am not stickin’ around for round two of this shit.”

tags: @tinas111 @fancyhideoutpeach @kimxwinchester @soldiersgirl @lanasgirlfr @unfortunate-brat @bruisedfig @angelically-yours @winchestersbgirl @spnaquakindgdom @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @pieandflannel @bejeweledinterludes @deanstubble @sunnyteume @titsout4jackles @sunnyfuffly @deansbeer @littlejackles @beforeroachfalls @capkatie @kamisobsessed

#if I gotta see it so do you

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amourcri3s · 16 days ago

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it’s always “he drank demon blood and had a hot demon gf!!! bloodfreak <3” and never “whose death was so unbearable that sam let go of his deepest childhood fear of being unclean and taint his body that way? whose absence ripped away everything that sam held dear because nothing mattered without him? who did the demon have to emulate to worm her way into his life and his confidence (and his bed)? whose memory was so inescapable that he was drowning in grief every second of every day? whose death caused such ruin to his being that avenging it became not only the only reason to live but also a cause worth sacrificing every principle he lived by?”

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

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ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `still here, still waiting, sam winchester ༘♡

summary: you've finally broken up with your ex. whilst you're venting to sam about it, you realise it's been him all along. word count: 1,059 pairing: sam winchester x reader prompt: "you're still waiting for me?" you can find the prompt list here! cred to @promptsbytaurie for the idea!

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

The beer in your hand is warm by the time you realise you’ve stopped drinking it.

Sam is sitting across from you whilst you’re venting about your breakup — pacing in the library in one of your oldest yet comfiest sweatshirts. Sam sits with one leg crossed over the other, a beer bottle also sitting comfortably in his hand. You turn around and he’s watching you like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Sorry. I’m rambling.” You stop mid-sentence. Sam smiles faintly at you. “It’s okay. You can ramble all you want.”

You smile back at him, sinking onto the couch next to him. “I just feel stupid. Like, how did I not see it sooner? God. Maybe I am stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he says, his voice quieter. Softer. “Sometimes it’s easier to see the good in people than it is the bad. It’s easier that way than to admit they’re not what you need.”

After he said that, something settled in your brain. He’s right. The constant battle with yourself in your head has silenced. Sam’s not wrong, but is he just saying it to be kind?

“You always see the good in people, Sam.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I do. But I also see the truth. And you deserved better.”

Your heart twists. He’s always been kind to you, and in this moment, you start to wonder what else you’ve been too blind to see.

“You think?”

“I know you did, Y/N.”

You study him, the way his fingers curl nervously against his jeans, he shifts a little awkwardly, that shy, gentle smile sticking to his face.

Sam had been watching from the sidelines, all these months. He never said a word or crossed a line — he just kept being your friend. He always cared, more than what he let on. You’d notice, but always put it down to Sam just being… Sam. There were moments where it almost slipped, where he caught himself smiling at you for a little too long, or when you lean your head on his shoulder a little too easily. He always pulled away before it could mean something more, because you weren’t his to hope for. Not yet.

As you sit there, watching the way his thumb moves in small, absent circles over his knee, it hits you. Sam’s always been patient and quiet. He’s the one who stayed through every high and low, stayed through each sensitive moment, every time you needed a shoulder to lean on, he was there.

He always has been.

Suddenly, every memory looks different. Every laugh, every late-night conversation, it all comes into focus.

“Sam…” you say slowly, concern clouding your eyes as Sam looks at you gently. “Yeah?” He asks, running a hand through his hair. You sigh deeply, afraid of the answer he’s about to give you.

“You’re still waiting for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

His brows furrow. “Sorry? What for?”

“For not seeing it sooner. For not seeing you sooner.”

His demeanour changes slightly, freezing into place. “You’ve been there for me through everything. Always so kind and patient. You’ve never asked for anything in return and I hate that I didn’t see it.”

He’s quiet. His eyes just glaze over you as you figure out what to say next. “I gave my time and my heart to someone else when you were right there the whole time.”

He turns to face you, leaning his arm against the top of the sofa. “Look at me.”

You do.

“There’s nothing to regret. If this is what it took for you to see me, then I’d do it all over again.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you take his hand in yours, tangling your fingers together, squeezing his hand tight.

Sam carries on. “I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me. I didn’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“I don’t feel guilty, I just—” You pause, your heart pounding. “I think I always felt it somewhere. I just wasn’t ready to see it.”

He sits there, his eyes soft and open, as if he’s telling you it’s up to you to decide. He’ll always be there, whether you want him to be or not.

You reach out, inviting him for a hug. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his strong arms around your back, and yours over his shoulders.

All you can do is breathe him in. Because in this moment, you feel like you’re where you need to be.

With him. With Sam.

#to read later #last one i promise

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

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im sorry i need like FILTHY sex with dean, like cum everywhere, spit, literally anything but he's whispering the sweetest words to u while he does it JDISKSKSKSJ

cw: smut.ᐟ oral [f.receiving].ᐟ messy sex [p in v].ᐟ stubble!dean.ᐟ praise kink.ᐟ pet names [sweetheart, baby].ᐟ overstimulation.ᐟ 18+

hii anon, I hope this was filthy enough for youuu ㅤ♡ྀི

it starts with his mouth. not a sweet kiss. not even a word. just dean dropping to his knees and dragging you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles. he’s spreading your legs like he’s starving and you’re the only goddamn thing that could satisfy him.

“lemme have it, baby, please” he mutters, voice low and hot against your inner thigh, as he kisses his way up. “been such a long day f’me, fuck, you don’t even know.”

you don’t even have a chance to answer, not really. he’s already burying his face between your legs, tongue flat and wide as he licks up your slit, slow and heavy. groaning like he’s a kid in a fucking candy store.

“such a pretty pussy. i don’t know if i wanna fuck it or eat it” he murmurs in between. try and act like that didn’t have you even wetter than before.

his stubble is rough, from a few days grown out. and it’s mean. scratching at your skin with every pass of his jaw. it leaves your thighs red and raw, clit swollen from the friction, sensitive to the point of delirium.

he doesn’t even try to be gentle with it, sucking on you, like he’s trying to leave a permanent mark of red, puffy and used.

“fuck dean—” you gasp, fisting the sheets with clumsy hands. your hips jerk when he sucks your clit into his mouth, nose pressed firm against your slit.

but dean doesn’t stop until you’re sobbing and messy. until your thighs are sticky, shining and scratched up from his stubble. until your clit’s so overstimulated it twitches when he does so much as breathe on it.

only then does he lick each finger clean, looking up at you with those wrecked green eyes and a slick-smiled face, and say “think she’s ready for me now, sweetheart” with a little pat pat to your clit.

before you know it you hear the clink of dean’s belt while you’re still catching your breath, creamy rivulets down your inner thighs.

“c’mon,” he grunts, tugging you by the hips like you weigh nothing. “turn around f’me, baby. lemme see that perfect ass.”

you’re hazy but compliant. letting him flip you like a rag doll. your chest hits the mattress, back arched as invitation. dean rubs your slick onto the flushed tip of his pretty fat cock, spreading it like lube and pushes every inch of himself inside until your breath stutters and every little whine and mewl is muffled into the pillow.

“there we go, baby, just like that, s’my fuckin’ girl” he encourages. looking down to see your cunt stretch around the base of him, how perfect you always mold around his cock, even after a few days away on a hunt.

his hips roll, slow at first. wet, loud, and sloppy. every thrust sounded obscene, the room filled with nothing but slick and choked-off gasps slipping from your mouth.

“got the prettiest pussy” he mutters, leaning over your back, stubble scraping your shoulder as he mouths along your skin. “got ‘er all stretched open n’ full of me, s’how it should be.”

you whine something incoherent, words jumbling into moans. he’s always been— gifted we’ll say, and good at taking care of you, but every time felt like the first.

dean’s hands were so tight on your hips, you knew he'd leave bruises tomorrow. eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you into your orgasm, not even sure which one you were on at this point.

and when he flips you into another position, on your back, thighs pushed into your chest, ankles resting on his wide shoulders. when you ask if he’s ‘done’ or that “it’s too much,” with drool falling from your mouth.

your met with him bracing a palm over your throat, just a reminder that your his. that his next hunt wouldn’t be so long. and a “i know baby. i know” looking into your cock-drunk eyes.

he wants to see every inch of your creamy skin marked by him. whether it’s his cum, bruising from his lips, or the chafe of his stubble, it’s all the same in his eyes.

so that’s why he’s pulling out last second. pumping thick white stripes on your belly, tits, and your soppy ruined cunt. he makes sure you can feel it drip, slow and hot.

it’s pooling against your clit. a line of his seed clings to your slit and seeps down between your cheeks. another trails down your belly until it settles into the dip of your navel, warm and wet.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathless. “look at you. my pretty baby covered in me.” like he’s in awe of what he did.

dean’s got you cleaning his cock off with your mouth, tasting your combined releases. any and— every reminder that you’re his for keeping.

divider creds

#to read later

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

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𝜗𝜚˚⋆ hands on,

summary. you and sam have been best friends for years. but there's a restless feeling... always there... always lingering.

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. steamy

wordcount. 489

notes / warnings. steamy make out with sammy!

The tension has been there for years.

Late nights, cheap motel rooms, stolen glances across dingy bars. It’s in the way Sam’s fingers brush against yours when he hands you a beer, the way his voice drops just a little when he says your name. The way you feel him in a room before you even see him.

But you’ve never crossed that line—never let yourselves go there.

Until now.

The hunt is over, and you’re both wired—adrenaline still thrumming through your veins as you step into the bunker’s kitchen. You should be exhausted, but sleep is the last thing on your mind.

Sam’s already there, leaning against the counter, nursing a beer. His shirt is still damp with sweat, sticking to the hard lines of his chest, and he watches you with that unreadable expression—the one that always makes your stomach flip.

“You good?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, stepping closer. “Yeah. Just… still coming down.”

His lips twitch, like he knows exactly what you mean. “Yeah. Me too.”

The air thickens between you, something electric crackling in the space that should exist—but doesn’t, because you’re already too close.

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s inevitable.

One second, you’re staring at each other, and the next, you’re backed against the counter, Sam’s hands braced on either side of you. His body is warm, solid, right there.

His eyes flick down to your lips, and you swear you see his resolve snap.

“You have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is rough, laced with something dark and hungry.

Your breath catches. “Why don’t you tell me?”

His jaw tightens, like he’s still trying to hold on to some last shred of control. But you both know it’s useless.

You don’t wait. You don’t hesitate. You grab the front of his shirt and pull.

The second his mouth crashes against yours, it’s over.

It’s teeth and tongue, desperate and messy, years of tension unraveling in a single kiss. His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair like he’s starved for this.

You moan against his lips, and he curses, lifting you onto the counter in one smooth motion. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, closer.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your throat, his hands gripping your thighs like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging over hot skin. “Then what took you so long?”

His laugh is low, dangerous. “I was trying to be good.”

You smirk, rolling your hips against him, feeling the sharp inhale he takes in response.

“Don’t hold back now, Winchester.”

And from the way his hands tighten on your body—the way his mouth claims yours again—you know he won’t.

Not tonight. Not ever.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @bamboobooshark ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @szyszoszelest ⋆ @angelicalm3ss ⋆ @writtenbyhollywood ⋆ @larasalii ⋆ @yeehawgiddyup13 ⋆ @xo-zeze ⋆ @jules-pagie ⋆ @freeluigihesbae ⋆ @viarasvogue ⋆ @ladykitana90

#to read later

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

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Study Sessions

PAIRING: Sam x Fem!Reader GENRE: Smut (18+ CONTENT) TO NOTE/WARNINGS: PWP, cockwarming, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), Dom!Sam manhandling poor reader, dirty talk, not betaread WORD COUNT: 1k PROMPT: 14) library sex for those dark academia vibes A/N: Thanks @deanwinchestersgirl8734 for requesting this one! I have to get a bunch of these out, so I will try my best to make them a bit shorter. Sorry for the wait. CREDIT & LINKS: dividers by cafekitsune ─〃★ join the taglist ─〃★ Sam Masterlist

All you did was shift, ever so slightly. Your position wasn’t exactly comfortable and the throbbing ache between your legs was starting to drive you insane.

Large hands immediately responded to your subtle squirm, Sam’s hold on you tightening to stop your movement. Though you bit your lower lip, you couldn’t help but whimper.

“I told you to hold still, baby,” Sam sighed in disapproval. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, which honestly sounded more like a sob than an apology.

Not that Sam seemed to care. Or if he did, he didn’t show it. For all you knew he was probably grinning to himself, all proud of turning you into such a mess without even doing anything.

Soft rustling of paper echoed off the walls as Sam flipped to the next page and continued reading.

Not fair.

Technically, this was Sam’s fault anyway. He couldn’t possibly blame you for getting twitchy.

Your legs were aching, in the best way possible. Who knows how much time has passed, how long you’ve been sitting in his lap like this. It felt like hours at this point. Hours of him keeping you right there, your legs spread out over his thighs, his cock nestled right inside of you.

You felt so damn full, the stretch both delicious and agonizing.

This started as a simple joke, him teasing you for being so needy, you teasing him for paying more attention to his books. When he claimed he could do both, you challenged him to prove it. What started with you thinking you had the upper hand and could make him snap ended with you teetering on the edge.

“Sammy,” you whined.

“Shh, just one more chapter,” Sam cooed softly. His thumb rubbed circled over your hip, but the touch wasn’t soothing whatsoever. Not when his length was bruising your cervix, making you crave anything. Literally anything. A grind, a thrust, some form of stimulation.

Sweat was sticking to your forehead already from accomodating his girth, cockwarming him for way too long. Your patience was running thin, so the complaint left your lips before you thought it through: “You already said that like ten minutes ago!”

“Such a greedy brat,” Sam grumbled in response.

Suddenly, he snapped his hips forward, somehow pushing even deeper into you. You gasped, almost jolting were it not for his large arm encircling your waist from behind and pulling you down on him.

The sensation had your toes curl. He made you feel every inch and you were much more sensitive than you anticipated.

“Can’t even sit still for a while and let me do my job,” Sam scolded, discarding his book and reaching out to your center instead. His hand nudged its way between your thighs, long fingers finding your swollen clit like it was second nature.

You hissed softly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Another sob escaped you when he rubbed tight circles over the bundle of nerves, pace relentless and pressure too rough to handle.

“S-Sam, slow down,” you cried. Your shaky fingers encircled his wrist, but you stood no chance against his strength.

“You wanted my full attention, now you have it,” Sam reminded you, his voice hot and heavy in your ear. “Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”

Your thighs were shaking, held open by Sam’s knees. His hot mouth found home in the curve of your neck, licking and biting hungrily. All while he continued thrusting in and out of you, each stroke making you see stars.

His name was suddenly the only word you could remember, a chant you repeated like a prayer while you clenched around him.

Suddenly Sam lifted you off his lap and you would’ve whined at the loss of contact, were it not for him bending you over and pinning you against the bookshelf. You gripped onto the wood for dear life and for a split second worried it would give out under your shove. Your concerns were wiped from your mind the second Sam lined up at your dripping entrance.

“This what you wanted?,” he huffed, coating his length with your essence by gliding it through your folds deliberately. “Distracting me so I’ll fuck you stupid?”

You could only nod weakly, which had Sam fist at your hair and pull you back against him. You nearly lost your balance, grasping at the shelf last second and knocking down a couple of books in the process.

“Yes, Sam,” you corrected yourself desperately, “Need you— Please.”

He chuckled briefly, his lips grazing your temple in a rewarding peck. “Wasn’t so hard now, was it? Now hold on tight f’me.”

With that last warning, you barely managed to steady yourself before he drove back into you, deep and relentless, nearly making you buckle. Even after feeling him inside for such a long time, you could never really get used to this feeling. If anything, he’s rendered you tender and sensitive, the slightest movement feeling like straight up lightning now.

You were gushing over his pulsating cock before you knew it, legs shaking under you and your whole body tightening. Sam held you close, dragging out your high until you basically slumped in his embrace. With one more final thrust, he stilled within you, white warmth spilling into you.

Despite being dizzy, you nodded when Sam asked you if you were okay. Your body felt beyond exhausted, but you managed to stay upright as he slowly pulled out of you and ran a soothing hand over your hair.

“Good study session,” you joked weakly, a tired, lazy smile on your lips as you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“And I’m not nearly done yet,” Sam chuckled between ragged breaths. He slumped back into the armchair, the leather creaking softly as he pulled you back into his lap.

📚 Sam Winchester Taglist:

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction @angelicjackles @bejeweledinterludes @deanswifeyy @ifritpng

@justwhisperingfantasies @kamisobsessed @ladykitana90 @mahi-wayy @missus-ackles

@s7nburn @slut4axkles @spn-reader

Want to be added to the taglist? Please fill out this >FORM< Want to be removed from the taglist? Please DM me Not sure if you're on the taglist? Check here

#to read later

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

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₊˚⊹♡ assistance | sam winchester x reader

a/n - not for kinktober just a fic i wanted to get out!! i’m unsure whether i like the dialogue on this im sorry if it sucks i feel i can never write dirty talk right *sobs* but i really hope you enjoy!!! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2k, nsfw 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, kind of softdom!sam, long distance, fluff, comfort, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was later than he’d liked by the time he finally got back to the motel. With muscles that ached from the day’s strain, brain fogged from how tired he was, Sam honestly just wanted to call his girlfriend and talk to her until he fell asleep.

He’d meant to text her a couple of hours prior to let her know the hunt was dragging on longer than expected, but his phone had fucking died when he and Dean were two hours into their trek into the woods to find the pack of werewolves they were hunting, and he’d been pretty miserable ever since.

Dean had disappeared off to the nearest bar after dropping Sam off at their room so he thankfully had the place to himself to mope around as he plugged his phone into the charger and showered whilst he waited for it to get some power. The shitty water pressure and barely lukewarm water did nothing for his aching back, so he was even more agitated by the time he got himself settled onto the uncomfortable mattress twenty minutes later, hair wet and skin still damp beneath his clothes with his eagerness to call her.

As much as he hated being away from her for so long, and too often, it was the safest thing to do. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to her because she was too close to his shit. He still had dreams about Jess, about how that was all his fault. He couldn’t let it happen again.

His phone hadn’t even reached twenty percent but he was impatient and shuffled over to the edge of the bed so the phone cord would reach and held the phone to his ear as he called her, propped himself up against the headboard.

The phone didn’t even ring twice before she answered.

“Sam?”

“Hey, baby.” The words came out in an exhale, most of the tension left him just at the sound of her voice, the ache seeping out of his bones like a relief. It was what kept him sane whenever he was away. Her picture in his wallet, her hair tie on his wrist, her voice in his ear.

“Hi, Sammy. Got worried when you didn’t call on time.”

He winced at the thought. She worried for him, of course she did. Sam understood how horrible it must have felt for her, knowing what he was going off to do. He could only imagine the dread that must’ve curled inside of her whenever he was late calling. Too many things had happened in the past, too many things could still go wrong.

“Sorry, my phone died when we were still out, didn’t get back until way later than I thought,” he groaned, sank down the headboard a little to stretch out on the bed. The agitation still hadn’t quite left him, the stiffness in his muscles prominent. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her in his arms and he couldn’t have it. “Miss you, honey.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded, “Missed you more. Wish you were here, it’s cold at night without you in bed too.”

He snorted a quiet laugh. “That’s why you miss me?”

“Mhm,” she giggled, though her voice turned a little coy as she murmured, “among other reasons.”

“Yeah?” An automatic smile was curling at his mouth.

Another little giggle through the receiver. He didn’t even need to see her to know that she had that little bashful smile on her face. He also knew exactly what was on her mind, it was on his too.

It wasn’t the first time they’d have done this. He was on the road so often that their sex life wasn’t as amazing as it could have been, and it wasn’t like he didn’t pleasure himself when he was away on hunts anyways.

There had been many many evenings he’d spent in the shower, hot water rolling down his back as he had one hand pressed to the tiled wall whilst the other pumped his cock until his cum was washed down the drain along with his shampoo bubbles. It wasn’t ideal — bottom lip tucked between his teeth to stifle the heaving breaths and quiet groans, trying to get off as fast as he could before the hot water could run out or Dean could get back to the room. It was even worse when it became a result of having her on the phone. There had been many occasions where her soft voice and giggles in his ear had been enough to get him hard, on nights when he was really missing her and it had just been too long since he’d kissed her.

It turned out she did the same as him. Though when Sam pictured it, it was a lot more graceful than his time in the shower. Laid out all pretty on their bed, legs spread, fingers wet with her own arousal as her head tipped back against the pillows. Sometimes if he got a little selfish he pictured her voice all whimpery saying his name as she came, but he couldn’t get lost in that daydream often, or he’d get hard over that, too.

“Miss you,” she breathed again, and the shift in her tone was palpable. “I… I tried touching myself earlier but I couldn’t cum without you on the phone.”

The groan that left him was automatic and his cock throbbed, hardening beneath the material of his boxers. The idea that she couldn’t even get off without his voice in her ear did wonders for him, it was a wonder his ego wasn’t too big already.

“You need my help, honey?” He crooned into the phone, settled into the tone of voice he knew she liked to hear, the voice he used more often than not when he was whispering in her ear, hips slotted between her thighs, rolling in a rhythm that left her whiney and panting.

Her soft little “mhm” was enough for him to move his other hand down and palm himself, hissing in a breath through his teeth.

“Go ahead and lay down for me, pretty girl. Wanna tell me what you’re wearing?”

There was the rustling of sheets over the phone before her voice spoke up again, “Just one of your shirts.”

Another groan. “You trying to kill me, baby?”

She giggled and his cock twitched beneath his palm. Jesus Christ he needed to get back to her, he needed her in person, to sate the need that wouldn’t be doused thoroughly enough over the phone.

“Go ahead and spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he breathed, palming his cock again as he spoke, eyes squeezing shut as his head knocked back against the headboard. “Did you get yourself all worked up earlier, hm? Are you all soaked already?”

There was another hum, though he could hear the way her breathing had deepened, deep and heavy in his ear. He could picture the tickle of her breath on his face, the shape of her lips, the taste of her mouth after she’d just brushed her teeth. He needed her.

“Why don’t you start touching yourself for me?” He murmured, voice low with his arousal. Her resounding moan was enough for his cock to throb again and his hand finally dipped beneath his waistband, freeing himself with a quiet groan.

“Are you touching yourself too?” She whimpered, and it was a miracle he didn’t just cum there and then.

“Yeah,” his hand lifted and he tipped his head down to spit into his palm, groaning softly the next time he pumped his cock. “Yeah I am, dolly. Your pretty voice got me all worked up— fuck.” He breathed out the word between his teeth. He was already leaking pre-cum, thumbing over the head of his cock in a move that made him shudder, though it felt nice when she did it. Stroked his cock with her pretty hands, her pretty lips that wrapped around his head when she was on her knees for him, licking along the length of his dick in a way that always made him weak in the knees.

She moaned again and his hips jerked, rutting into his hand with a filthy groan. “How’re you feeling, honey?”

She whimpered, and Sam felt another dribble of pre-cum slide down the length of his cock. “Good— mm, good, j’st—” she took in a shaky breath, “feels better when it’s you, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” He grunted, pumping his cock just a little faster. “Why’s that, dolly?”

“Bigger hands,” she breathed. “longer fingers.”

Sam moaned, the idea of his fingers nestled deep in her wet heat enough for his cock to throb in his hand, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. But from the sounds of her pretty little whimpers, neither would she. “Can’t fill that pretty pussy up as nice as I can, hm?” He took in a shuddering breath. “Play with your clit for me, sweetheart.”

He could hear the moment she did, the sharp inhale, the whimpery moan, the rustling of the sheets as she, undoubtedly, spread her legs wider. “Oh god, Sammy—”

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

All he got in response was a high-pitched “uh-huh.”

“That’s it— shit, that’s it, baby,” he panted, pumping his cock faster, moaning softly as his head arched back. “Go on, dolly, make some pretty sounds for me as you cum, won’t you? M’gonna cum just thinking about you making such a mess of yourself, c’mon, baby—” he was practically begging between sharp breaths.

It only took a moment before he heard her sharp inhale and the whine that followed, and all it took was a few more quick ruts into his hand and the sounds of her before he groaned her name, toes curled and eyelids scrunched as he came. He could feel the evidence of his orgasm dribbling down his cock and his fingers as he shucked a few more times, hissing through his teeth as he finally stopped.

“Oh sweetheart,” he breathed, panting, not unlike her heavy breaths into the phone. “You sounded so fucking pretty, honey. That feel good for you?”

She took a shuddery breath and hummed again. “Yeah, thanks baby.”

Sam couldn’t help the breathy chuckle. “Don’t need to thank me,” he murmured. “M’always gonna take care of my girl, even if I’m not there. You made quite a mess of me, too.”

She breathed a laugh, and a moment passed of just their shared breathing as they both calmed down. Sam’s cock had softened completely against his abdomen, and he’d have to change his clothes and have another shower, but fuck was it worth it.

“I’ll be on my way back to you tomorrow,” he promised once his breathing had mostly evened out. “Should be with you before dinner, then you get me all to yourself.”

She yawned into the phone before mumbling, “Good, want you back to me as soon as possible.”

The sound of her so sleepy just left him so soft. “I promise I will be,” he breathed. “Why don’t you get some sleep, okay honey? I’ll call you in the morning when we’re on the road.”

“Okay,” her voice had completely softened, coated in a sickly-sweet fondness that left him putty in her hands. “I love you. Get back to me safe, okay?”

“I always do,” Sam smiled. “I love you too. Night, gorgeous.”

She yawned her own goodbye before the line went dead, and he let the phone drop back down onto the mattress with a heavy breath.

Just one more day, then he could have her in person, help her in all the ways he wanted to on the phone.

#to read later

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

Note

thinking about a sam drabble of him being super sweet and romantic as an apology after becky spells him into marrying her because even though it wasn’t his fault (and reader knows that) he still feels bad :(( sammy as a romantic lives in my mind rent free

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ always you,

summary. becky's spell is finally broken and sam wants to prove to you just how much he loves you and only you

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. soft smut ( mdni )

wordcount. 807

notes / warnings. the softest back-together-sex, very light smut.

You forgave him the second you saw his face.

Wide, horrified eyes. That panic he never hides when it comes to you. His hands reaching for yours like they ache to be there, even though they just spent the last two days in someone else’s.

It wasn’t his fault. You know that. Becky was… well, Becky. And witchcraft is a bitch.

But Sam? Sam’s been walking around like he cheated on you.

Which is why he’s standing in your motel room now — quiet, nervous, his massive hands wringing each other like they’ve got sins to confess.

“Say something,” he breathes, finally.

You just look at him. Barefoot. Hoodie hanging off one shoulder. You’re not angry. Just… tired. From worrying. From missing him, even when he was right there and not himself.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

Sam blinks. Like he didn’t expect that. “I—”

He steps forward.

Then stops himself.

Like he’s not sure he has the right.

Your chest aches.

“Sam.”

He finally meets your eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His jaw tightens. “I still said yes. I didn’t know I was spelled, but I still said—”

You cut him off, voice soft. “She drugged you, Sam.”

He breathes through his nose. Still doesn’t move.

You go to him.

Fingers curling into his flannel. Tugging him down just enough so your forehead meets his. It’s the only way to get him to breathe. To stop holding all that guilt in his spine.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whisper. “Like I’m gonna break.”

“I hurt you.”

You nod, honest. “Yeah. But not because of anything you did. You weren’t you. And I knew it. Even when she had you smiling like an idiot in her Hello Kitty bedspread, I knew.”

His breath catches — a laugh and a sob all tangled up.

You lean up. Kiss his cheek.

Then his jaw.

Then pull him to your lips like you’re reminding him what home tastes like.

It starts slow.

Like he’s still afraid.

But then his hands are in your hair, and you’re backing him up until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and oh, he needs this.

He needs you.

He lets you straddle him, big hands gripping your thighs like he’s scared you’ll disappear. His mouth moves against yours like prayer, apology, and promise all at once.

“I love you,” he murmurs between kisses. “I love you. I swear I—”

“I know,” you whisper, rolling your hips into his. “I know, baby.”

You tug off his flannel, your hoodie joining it on the floor. His hands roam like he’s cataloging you all over again — thumb brushing under your bra, fingers skating down your spine.

“I hated not touching you,” he whispers. “Even when I didn’t know what was wrong, I felt it.”

You guide his hands to your hips. “Then touch me now.”

His mouth is on your neck instantly. Gentle. Searing. He sucks the skin just enough to make you gasp, then soothes it with soft lips, like he’s kissing away the days you spent sleeping alone.

Your nails scrape up into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“Lie back,” you whisper.

He does.

He always does when you ask like that.

You kiss your way down his chest — soft, slow, reverent. His stomach tenses under your tongue, every muscle drawn tight like he’s trying not to rush. Not to flip you over and lose himself.

You kiss the waistband of his jeans, and he shudders.

“Please,” he whispers. “I just… I need to feel close to you again.”

You smile. “You’re already here.”

And you are. When you finally take him in, it’s not about making him forget — it’s about making him remember.

Who he is.

Who you are.

What you never stopped being, even when he was looking at someone else with someone else’s name in his mouth.

He moans when he’s inside you, hands splayed on your hips, like he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this.

He keeps whispering things — you’re so beautiful, i love you, thank you, thank you — until you’re both gasping and trembling and holding each other like the world outside doesn’t exist.

After, you’re curled into him, cheek on his chest, legs tangled.

His voice is hoarse when he breaks the silence.

“I don’t think I could live with myself if I’d lost you.”

You press a kiss over his heart.

“You didn’t.”

He holds you tighter. Hand stroking up and down your spine like he’s still afraid you’ll disappear if he stops.

You tip your head up and meet his eyes. Soft. Honest. Safe.

“I was always yours, Sam.”

His throat bobs.

“Still am.”

And he kisses you again — slow and deep and full of every sorry he’s ever felt.

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#to read later

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amourcri3s · 17 days ago

Text

────── ⋆⋅☆ SWEET LOVE, D.W

warnings. smut. yes that’s it…

⭑.ᐟokay I don’t ever write smut but I may or may not be ovulating so I did. It’s probably not that great but… here it is lol! Please interact and send requests if you have any<3

word count. 430

supernatural masterlist/full masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Dean’s hands are travelling all over your body. They caress, they hold, they pull-tight, it’s messy. Your hands are clawed on his back one second, the other they cling to the bed sheets like your life depends on it. Your hearts, they beat fast. They beat fast, they’re tightening, just like your core.

You sweat, you scream his name, and you wonder how you even got here. It’s not like this is new. That’s what couples do- but you wonder about every single thing that led to that happening, all the god damn time and you thank your lucky star because this might just be your favorite thing to do with him.

You wouldn’t say you’re a sex addict. But Dean definitely is- and you take that seriously. As serious as toying with him. Playing along, fantasizing until the moment it happens.

He kisses you, hungrily, desperately, wildly, like he’s scared to let go. Then, his mouth is everywhere. He’s inside you, yet he’s all over you. He makes you feel good. He makes you feel like you’re about to explode- in a great way. In a way that you need. His body almost syncs with yours. It almost melts into yours, he couldn’t be closer.

You’re chest to chest, his hands now holding yours on each side of the bed.

‘Oh god, Dean!’ You cry out. You cry out for all the times you couldn’t because the bunker wasn’t empty. You cry out for all the times he made you wait- to fuck with you.

Now he fucks you. He does it hard, then slow. He has his own pace, you have yours. Your mouths are entangled, just like your legs. You don’t want to let go. You never want to.

‘I love you.’ Dean almost whimpers, in between kissing your lips hard, and your jaw softly.

You moan as pleasure from both him- and his words.

‘I love you.’ You say back in between cries of pleasure and pain-good pain.

Your heart pounds. Your body feeling its weakest but greatest, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head, so are dean’s. Then he cries out too. Moans, groans, like he does so well.

You don’t want this to end- ever. You want to stay locked with him in this bed forever, your bodies forged together like you belong with one another.

You know it’s only a matter of time before this happens again- maybe tomorrow, maybe even a couple minutes from now if you feel up to a round 2.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis (comment&follow to be added!)

#to read later

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