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sparrowofthedawnsworld · 1 year

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Locked Out - Sam Kiszka

A/N: I took some wonderful asks over for @jake-kiszkas-smirk . Thank you for entrusting me with these! Hope y’all enjoy! I think I’m finally getting back in my groove…! *knocks on wood* As always, I apologize for any errors that I may have missed!

WARNINGS: Cocky Sam... Sam being a lil brattier than the brat.

18+ content, minors please DNI! Teasing, biting, hair pulling, edging (M), overstimulation (F), oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

You were sprawled out on the couch, a random comedy movie that you were hardly paying any attention to filling your living room with a comfortable noise.

You’d been working on a personal little art project for a couple of hours now, but decided to break for a bit to check your phone and give your hands a break, too.

Going through your notifications, you saw one from hours prior, letting you know that a package had been delivered; extra supplies that you needed for your project.

“Oh, shit!” Jumping up from the couch, you scrambled to your front door - just throwing on a little jacket and a pair of slip on vans.

You ran out of the house, pulling the door up behind you… that you didn’t know was locked.

Once you grabbed the package, you ran excitedly back up to your front door and placed the little package under your arm.

Grabbing the doorknob, you froze in place when it didn’t turn.

“No… no no no no no,” you rambled frantically, going into an immediate state of panic.

You let the -thankfully not fragile- piece of mail fall from under your arm as you felt around your pockets for your phone. At least you had managed to bring that.

You immediately dialed your landlord’s number.

“Y/N? It’s awfully late. Everything okay?” He asked you, sounding tired and most likely in for the night.

“Listen, I know it’s late, but I just locked myself out of my house…” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, attempting to stay calm… ish.

“Oh, dear… I’m sorry, Y/N, I left to go out of town for the week… So I can’t come unlock it. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He sounded so genuine and concerned. “I can call Sam for you and you could crash at his place for the night? I can get a locksmith over sometime tomorrow.”

You scoffed at the offer, knowing for sure you’d rather lay out and sleep on your wooden porch swing and risk freezing.

“That a no?” He chuckled, sounding only slightly offended. “It’s really the only option I can offer, unless you happened to have left a window unlocked.”

“Now, that’s an idea,” you spoke, becoming hopeful. “I’ll climb through one of the windows.”

“Let me know how that works out. Good luck.”

You hung up the phone, jiggling the door handle once more just to be sure you weren’t just crazy.

Alas, you definitely were not.

You glanced around the front porch, knowing if any of the windows were miraculously unlocked - it wasn’t any of the ones up front.

Deciding that the Kitchen window was the only likely option, you made your way around the side of your house. Praying it was still open from a few nights back, when you had opened it to let out the smoke of a cooking mishap.

You were mentally thanking the universe that at least it was late and Everyone in your neighborhood of mostly elders were more than likely in bed.

“Fuck me,” you mumbled in annoyance, realization washing over you as you reached the window that you weren’t tall enough to reach it.

You ran around to the back porch, snatching a bucket from the step and carrying it back around to your kitchen window.

Placing it carefully, you stepped up on it and grabbed onto the ledge of the window for some sort of extra stability.

Just as you began trying to push it open, headlights lit up you and most of your surroundings - serving as an embarrassing spotlight.

And of course, it was Sam. The one person in the entire neighborhood that would be coming home so late - more than likely from a show.

The two of you had been neighbors for a few long years now. For whatever reason, you found his constant running around exhausting and annoying. You felt as though he never slowed down enough to really enjoy anything.

There were mutual feelings there of course. Sam was convinced you were stuck up and had not the slightest clue how to have a good time.

Both of you couldn’t be farther from the truth about one another, but one thing you both had in common was stubbornness.

Ultimately, that’s what kept either of you from seeing the other any other way, than what you’d let yourselves assume.

You didn’t even glance in his direction, hoping by some miracle that he didn’t see you. However, you knew all too well that your current position wasn’t exactly what one would call discreet.

“Got so bored you just decided to break into your own house!?” Sam called teasingly. “There’s better things to do, ya know?”

You closed your eyes in attempts to quell your growing anger, as his voice grew closer and the cold grass crunched under his converse.

“No, actually.” You bit quickly. “I got locked out on accident.”

“And your first course of action was to try and climb through your kitchen window?” Sam scoffed, as if it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

“How about you fuck off?” You snapped, flinging your hands in the air around you, almost losing your balance entirely. “Shit!-”

“Just come to my place, for fucks sake.” Sam offered through a huff as he threw his hands up to stable you. “You can chill there until the landlord can come open your door. It’s too cold for this horse shit.”

You glared at his hands, trying to ignore the tingle they left behind. “I’m very much fucking good.”

“Obviously you’re not.” Sam chided, rolling his eyes at your stubbornness.

“Well… He’s out of town and quite honestly-“ You placed your hands on your hips. -“I think I’d rather sleep out here in the cold, than step a single toe in your house.”

“Oh, really?” Sam chuckled in slight amusement.

You nodded “Yes.”

“Okay, then.”

Before you could even process what was happening, Sam was tossing you over his shoulder.

“wha- PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN!” You screeched, stupidly trying to pry his fingers off of your legs. “Are you insane?!”

“Now why would I do that?” Sam chuckled, tightening his grip as to not drop you. “And no, I’m not insane.”

“Samuel.”

“Y/N.” He mocked your firm tone and stopped in his tracks for a moment, just to listen to what you had to say.

“I told you,” You mumbled, dangling over his shoulder. “I would rather sleep out here and freeze.”

“Yeah, well, as much as you get on my nerves-“ Sam stopped mid sentence as he worked his way up the steps cautiously. “-that’s not happening on my watch.”

“Whatever. Just put me down?” Reluctantly, you agreed and wiggled around again in his arms. “My legs do fucking work, in case you didn’t know that.”

He finally placed you back on your own two feet.

“Yeah and that snappy ass mouth works too, apparently.” Sam muttered, shoving his key in the door. He gestured inside a little reluctantly. “After you.”

You all but stomped into Sam’s house, putting your distaste of the situation on full display.

It was definitely too cold to sleep outside and you were thankful (somewhere very deep down) for Sam’s offer to let you stay the night.

Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that he got on your last nerve.

“You know, this is gonna be a pretty miserable night if you can’t pretend to like me at least a little bit.” Sam stated obviously, an annoyed edge to his tone.

“That goes both fucking ways.” mumbling, you slinked down into his couch, a frustrated pout engraved into your face.

“And excuse me for being upset that my night has become just a little fucked up.” You bit rather harshly. Before he could even retaliate, you continued on in an angry ramble of complaints. “I got locked out of my own house. I have no clothes or anything to sleep with, or even to get ready for bed with. Hell, I can’t even finish my art piece!”

Sam clicked his tongue, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, that’s all pretty shitty. But I can solve most of those problems -except for the little art project or whatever.”

“I don’t want you to solve anything for me.” You cross your arms over your chest like a toddler.

“Well, you’re sitting in my living room… so i’ve already solved one of your problems.” Sam held up a single finger in punctuation. “But if you wanna sleep in fucking jeans and a cut up band tee, you do that.”

You wanted to argue with him further, but upon Sam pointing out the clothing you were still wearing, you became hyper aware of how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in.

“Fine,” you mumbled, not even loud enough for him to hear.

Sam put his hand up to his ear and stepped closer to you. “Huh? Can you be a little louder?”

“I said “fine”.” You spoke up dryly, punctuating the last word louder than what was actually necessary.

Sam just huffed an annoyed laugh, disappearing up the stairs without an actual word.

You sat there and waited for what felt like forever, assuming Sam would just bring the clothes down to you.

But, of course not.

“Are you coming up here or what?” Sam peered down over the little upstairs balcony, tapping the railing impatiently.

You glanced up at him slowly just as he leaned into the railing even more. You gave him an unamused expression, trying to suppress the shock that washed over you.

“Would have made a lot more sense for you to just tell me to follow you up there, don’t you think?” You quipped, standing up from the couch and walking to the stairs. “I can’t read your mind.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I’m giving you some of my clothes, so I figured it was implied that you follow me.”

You bit back the snicker that threatened to flutter out of you, choosing to follow Sam the rest of the way to his room, in half-comfortable silence.

Sam’s room was far more cozy than you would have ever imagined. The walls were an off white, his bed was covered in what some might consider excessive amounts of blankets and pillows.

The only light in the room was from a few salt lamps, casting a peachy-orange glow around the rather large room. A single candle flickered away on his nightstand, filling the room with a layer of different sweet scents - the main note being Vanilla.

“Here,” Sam grabbed a towel and a few articles of clothing from his bed and turned back to you, all but shoving them in your arms. “You can use my bathroom, or the one in the hallway. Your choice. I’m going back to my piano.”

Before you could even process what he had said, he was sauntering out of his bedroom door and down the hall. The sound of his footsteps against the stairs, was what snapped you out of your shocked trance.

Even though he offered up his own bathroom, you didn’t feel quite right doing that. So, you made your way down the hallway to the bathroom you’d seen just minutes before, on your way to Sam’s bedroom.

The bathroom was daintily decorated and the faint smell of cologne lingered in the air. It was a decent size, but not as big as you guessed Sam’s ensuite bathroom was.

Cutting on the water and Peeling off your clothes from the day, you tied your hair up and replayed the last hour or so and all its events over in your head.

So much had happened in such a short amount of time.

You sulked and huffed occasionally under the warm water, taking use of the body wash that sat in the corner of the shower.

As you attempted to scrub away your frustration, you couldn’t help but think about Sam. You blamed it on the body wash, smelling sweet and warm - just like he always did whenever you inevitably bumped into him.

Shutting the water off and grabbing the towel that he’d given you, it only took a few seconds for you to register the flawless sounds of the piano - no longer clouded by the sounds of running water.

You stood, droplets of water dripping off you as basked in the beautiful music Sam was creating. You tried not to hate yourself for enjoying it.

After all, he may be annoying, but he was damn sure talented and you couldn’t short him of that.

You finished drying off after another moment or two, picking up the sweatpants and t-shirt that Sam had given you.

You couldn’t help but dwell for a moment about the fact that, you were stuck without a bra or panties. Something about having to put on Sam’s clothes completely bare underneath, naturally had you just a little bit embarrassed.

Folding up your own clothes neatly, you made your way out of the bathroom and back downstairs, placing them somewhere out of the way.

You settled into the couch with your phone, still taking in the much louder sounds of the piano. Now that you were closer, it was even more clear and beautiful. Calming even.

Diving deeper into whatever social media you finally decided was entertaining enough, the sounds of the piano were pushed away to just background noise.

So much so, that you didn’t even notice when it had stopped and Sam’s voice was startling you.

“I’m going to bed,” he stated simply. “There’s blankets on that rack beside the couch and I guess I’ll bring you a pillow from my bed.”

Giving off the impression that even the bare minimum was agitating him, you declined the offer for his own pillow sassily.

“Don’t even trouble yourself,” Your eyes narrowed. “I’ll use this decorative pillow.”

Sam gave you an amused look. “Suit yourself.”

You scoffed, mumbling out an “unbelievable,” that you guessed he didn’t even hear.

After a minute or two more of scrolling through your phone, you got up and walked over to cut off the light switch. You settled into the couch with one of the blankets and the decorative pillow, that you sarcastically insisted you’d use.

Just as you started to really relax-

“Catch, Y/N-“

Your eyes shot open, arms flying over your head to protect yourself just as a pillow smacked against you.

“What the actual FUCK, Samuel?!” You screeched, pushing the pillow away from your face.

Sam laughed, too loud for the hour that it was. “Did you really think after everything else I’ve given you tonight, I wouldn’t give you a damn pillow?”

“Yeah, thank you for that, but like...” You snatched the pillow up in your hand, holding it up dramatically. “You couldn’t bring it down here and hand it to me?”

“Nope. Didn’t feel like going down the stairs.” Sam turned back towards the hallway. “Goodnight!”

You let out another tired and frustrated sigh, tossing the pillow behind you and attempting to get back to the comfort level you’d had just moments ago.

Drifting off to sleep was fairly easy once you finally did get comfortable. The warmth and sweet smell of Sam’s house, the soft glow of a lamp he’d left on, it all helped lull you to sleep within minutes.

That peaceful sleep only lasted so long, though.

“You’re so pretty, cum for me, doll. Come on-“

Sam’s voice cut through your mind and seemed to echo around; bouncing off the walls of your skull, jolting you awake instantly.

You sat up straight, a layer of sweat had formed over your skin and your chest heaved with quick, labored breaths.

The damp feeling between your legs couldn’t be ignored either, no matter how much you wanted to ignore it.

You fought to calm yourself down, laying back down into the couch.

All you could see when you closed your eyes, was the obscene imagines of Sam’s hand between your legs.

Even as you stared up at the ceiling; no signs of sleep in your near future at all, Sam’s voice continued to echo throughout your mind.

“God damnit,” you uttered, banging your head against the pillow, hoping for a moment it would just turn into a brick.

You contemplated all your options; Stay on the couch, please yourself all on your own and try to go back to sleep. Or, go upstairs and make up some excuse about not being able to sleep or something… Maybe just being next to Sam would help. Or hell, even getting yourself off and then going upstairs anyway.

After a minute or two of thinking, every single idea you had, pretty much ended with you going upstairs to Sam.

So, deciding to try your luck, you pulled yourself up from the couch and made your way towards the stairs.

Quietly, you made your way up and down the hall to Sam’s bedroom, trying to come up with an -albeit bullshit excuse- but an excuse nonetheless.

The door was cracked ever so slightly, just enough for you to peak through and see him sleeping soundly in his bed.

Casting the hesitation creeping up inside you as far away as it would go, your fingertips touched the cool wood of the door and lightly pushed it open.

“Sammy…” You squeaked out, barely stepping through the doorway.

He stirred for a moment and you realized that your whispered call of his name, was definitely not enough.

“Sam.”

It was firmer and louder, but not too loud as to startle him.

Sam stirred around again, before one of his eyes popped open sleepily.

He offered a half ass acknowledgment to your presence. “Hm?”

“I, uhm… the couch is uncomfortable…” Staring down at the floor, you fiddled mindlessly with your fingers,

“Aaand this is suddenly my problem?” Sam cocked one of his eyebrows, opening up both eyes now.

“It’s your house...” You pointed, as if it was indeed his problem, simply for that reason.

“What do you want me to do? Trade with you?” Sam jested, taunting you. “You’re such a fucking princess.”

“No….” You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. ”I’m not gonna make you get up. Can I… Can I just lay with you…?”

Sam sat up in his spot, running his hands through his hair as a smirk pulled at his lips. “You’re being so much sweeter now. What’s the deal, hm?”

You panicked slightly, wondering if he was really on to you, or if he was just trying to rattle your cage.

“Nothing, just- nevermind. I’ll go back down-“

“Okay, okay, whatever.” Sam cut you off. “I’m fucking with you. I guess I don’t care if you sleep here with me...”

You stopped in your tracks, turning back around to face him with a light pink tinge covering your cheeks and eyes slightly widened with shock.

“Really?”

“No, I’m still just yanking your chain.” Sam grumbled sarcastically. “Yes, really.”

Your feet were carrying you to Sam’s bed, before your brain had even given the okay.

Sam slid over, giving you room to join in next to him. You settled under the covers, breathing a pretty long sigh of relief. He turned over on his side, facing away from you and you fought to get comfortable yourself.

After a minute or two, you finally settled in a little. Of course, your body was still having absolutely none of it.

All you could think of was the gorgeous man that was now next to you - who was, without a doubt, feeling the heat exuding off of your body.

With a huff, you shifted again and Sam mumbled some incoherencies from behind you.

“Fucks sake, I might as well have a space heater next to me.” Sam teased, but there was obvious annoyance in his tone.

Flipping over on your back, you turned your head to the side and glared at the back of his head. “It’s hot.”

“Liar.” Sam smirked, flipping over to face you.

He looked you up and down then joked cooly, “If you’re so hot, why don’t you just take off some of your clothes?”

You scoffed, cheeks turning pink again. He was absolutely on to you.

You tried your best to sound repulsed by his idea. “I’d rather suffer.”

“Oh, you would?” Sam questioned slyly. “At least if you took them off, it would be a lot easier for me to get you off.”

Your head snapped to look at him, mouth gaping at his sudden bluntness.

“What? That’s what you came up here for, right?”

“Well, i- uhm..” you swallowed, opening and closing your mouth a couple times as you frantically searched for something to say.

“The faster you tell me, the sooner I can help.” Inching closer to you, his hand came up to graze over your cheek. “You got all hot and bothered downstairs thinking of me, huh?”

That cocky fuck.

“Fuck you.” Staring up at the ceiling, you fought to keep your eyes from fluttering closed as his soft touch consumed you. “I’m not telling you.”

“You don’t really need to tell me.” Sam chuckled lowly, voice still laced with sleep and now a little bit of lust. “I know I’m right on the money.”

“And how do you know, Samuel?” You pressed, flicking your eyes to him briefly.

“I think you’ll be severely embarrassed if I go down the list.” Sam snickered, trying to spare you of what he knew.

Cringing, you asked him to continue anyway. “No, tell me.”

“Well for starters, you’ve been squirming around in my bed for half an hour now.” Sam started, pitching in that annoyed edge. “Your cheeks have been twenty different shades of pink, your body is just radiating hellfire… And! The real kicker, I heard you moaning my name.”

All the blood drained from your face, as soon as those last few words left Sam’s mouth. You wanted to shrink down into the mattress, tiny enough that he couldn’t find you even with a magnifying glass.

“You heard me??” You covered your face with both hands, muffling your words. “But I was just- I was just dreaming?!”

“Yep, I did.” Sam confirmed again, matter-of-factly. “And I guess your dream was just pretty realistic. ‘Uh, Sammy! Please!’”

You pulled your knees up and scrunched yourself up, groaning loudly to block out his mocking. “Oh, my god. Shut up!”

Placing a hand on your knee closest to him, he gently pushed it back down. “At least they sounded pretty.”

Allowing your legs to stretch back out, Sam took the opportunity to crawl over top of you.

He took each of your wrists in his hands and pulled them away from your face. You immediately noticed the way his hands and fingers wrapped all the way around them.

“Do I make them sound as pretty as you do? What do you think, princess?” Sam grinned above you, staring down at you with dark eyes and radiating a confidence that turned you on even more.

“Not even close.” You shot, trying to feed off of some of his confidence.

“Oh, so I make them sound better? Got it.” Sam’s hand found your cheek, pinching it slightly between his fingers. “God, you’re so flustered and pink. What could I have possibly done to make you blush this much, huh?”

Smacking his hand away weakly, you huffed. “Sam.”

There was nothing you wanted more than his lips on yours… And all over the rest of your body.

“What?” Sam raised, leaning down closer to you.

“Fucking kiss me, or I’m getting up and fixing my problem downstairs. On your couch. While you listen.” You punctuated your warning, hoping the little bit of courage you were able to muster was enough.

“That sounds like a threat, but also another lie.” Slipping a finger under your chin, he leaned in even closer. “Don’t start getting bratty on me now, cause I’ll make you do it.” Sam warned, low and gravely against your cheek. “It wouldn’t be any fun that way around, would it?”

“You’re such a brat.”

“Mm, takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” Sam questioned. “I have to out-brat the brat, princess.”

“Well… I don’t think you’d actually make me do that.” You knew he probably would, but you weren’t about to admit it.

You turned your head to chase after Sam’s lips, but he pulled away swiftly. “You wanna try me?”

“No,” You caved. “What I want is for you to fucking kiss me.”

“So needy.” Sam shook his head, finally closing the space between you two.

His lips met yours in what you thought would be a slow and easy kiss. Instead, it was desperate and quick in pace, robbing you of the air in your lungs and making that aching pulse between your legs even worse.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging at it hard enough to draw a soft whimper out of him. It was barely audible, the main signs of it being the soft vibration of his lips.

After a few more moments, Sam pulled away - breathless. “If you weren’t so busy despising my existence, I sure as shit would have kissed you a lot sooner.”

“‘Despise’ is a strong word,”

His lips curled up into a crooked smile as you spoke.

“Mm, strongly dislike, then…?” Sam placed a kiss over your jaw, working his way down your neck. He searched for a sensitive spot, with unmatched dedication.

A soft whine bubbled out of you, making him hum into your skin. He spent a few more seconds babying the spot he’d found, before moving down farther.

“T-take it off,” you breathed out. “Take my shirt off, please.”

“Bratty girl even added a ‘please’.” Sam smirked, pulling away from you. “-and It’s my shirt.”

His hands traveled down your sides, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands.

“Fine,” you grumbled, punctuating your words with an eye roll. “Take off your shirt, please.”

Sam’s lips pulled up in a conniving smirk as he leaned back, giggling at your confused expression.

The confused expression didn’t last long; quickly forming into a scowl as Sam pulled off his own shirt instead of yours.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Taking the hem in your own hands, your started to yank the material over your head yourself.

“Hey, now-“ Sam put an abrupt stop to your actions. “That’s my job, thank you.”

“You should get fired, then.” You glared up at him, releasing the hem to let his hands replace yours.

The room suddenly filled with the sound of Sam’s laugh, full and dripping with sarcasm.

“If you’d slow down, you might think I need a raise.” Sam nodded his head upwards, signaling you to lift your arms for him.

You did as he asked, letting him pull his shirt off of you.

“Oh, yes…” Sam breathed, marveling at the sight of your bare chest, like a kid with a brand new toy. “Fuck yes, you’re so perfect.”

A deep blush settled over your cheeks. You settled back against the pillows completely, letting Sam do as he pleased.

“Let’s experiment a little, shall we?” Sam mumbled, the corner of his lip twitching upwards briefly.

He slowly took one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger, his other hand gently cradling your other breast.

Glancing up at, he asked. “Which do you like better, princess?”

“This…?” With his questions, he pinched your nipple between his fingers with just enough pressure, drawing a choked whimper from you.

“Or, this…”

Dipping his head down to your breast that he’d been cradling in his hand, he took that nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and sucking at it softly.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” you whimpered again, slightly more vocal this time.

His breath fanned over your nipple as he pulled away just enough to speak. “Yeah? Is that the one?”

Sam moved back to the other and repeated the action, slipping his hand underneath your back when you arched into him.

He held you up against him, trailing kisses over your collarbones as your head fell back, then, trailing them down your sternum.

“So,” Kiss. “So,” Kiss. “Pretty.”

Laying you back down against the mattress, Sam continued his track down your body.

It was safe to say that no one had ever spent this much time working you up. There’s was no doubt in your mind that by the time Sam made it to where you needed him, you would be soaking through your panties and probably onto his sheets, too.

Sam trailed kisses down your stomach in a pattern that, to anyone else, would seem so random. But to him, it was so intentional. It was thought out. Like he had a plan and was sticking to it.

As he reached the hem of sweatpants he’d lended you, his eyes found yours again.

Before he could even ask, you were already eagerly giving him permission.

“Take them off, please.” You begged lightly. “Both of them.”

“Why so desperate?” Sam questioned tauntingly, hooking his hands in both the sweatpants and your panties . “Is this pretty little clit giving you trouble? Does it need me to baby it? Huh, Princess?”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as Sam finally tugged the articles of clothing, all the way off and settled between your legs.

“I need it,” you breathed, looking down at him in intense anticipation.

“Need it so bad, Sammy.”

“Where did that tough girl go… you know, the one that hates my guts?” The smirk on his face was downright sinister. “Where did she disappear to so fast?”

Sam placed a teasing kiss over your clit, watching you through his lashes.

“Sam… put your mouth to better fucking use.” You tried to demand, but it was just breathy and weak.

“Mm, you’re too whiny to sound tough now.” Sam chuckled, sliding his middle finger through your folds. “It’s almost pathetic.”

“Samuel.” His name snapped out of you in an exasperated sigh - a pure display of your frustration.

“Relaaax,” Sammy drawled out the word tauntingly.

He flashed you his crooked, toothy smile and slowly slid his thumb through your folds. Collecting some of your wetness and spreading it up to your clit, he rubbed slow, teasing circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“More, Sammy-“ You begged, even though you knew he probably wouldn’t grant you anything you begged for.

He barely had so far, why would he now?

But much to your surprise, he did indeed give you more.

“You need more, princess??” he asked, adding a sweetness to his tone that - any other time - would have your blood boiling.

Without waiting for you to answer, his thumb retreated from your clit and his mouth took over. His finger grazed the edges of your entrance, taunting it a little - beckoning you to beg just a little more.

“S-Sammy,” his name tumbled out of you, whiny and shaky with need.

Pleased with the reaction he drew from you, he sunk his finger into you and immediately started his search for that sweet spot inside you.

A stream of moans and curses started falling from your mouth, egging him on and on. “Oh- oh fuck, Samm-“

He simply hummed against you, mouth occupied, tending to your needy clit.

With an experimental curl of his fingers at just the right angle, he pressed into your G-spot.

Your back arched away from the bed with a pitiful cry of pleasure. You weren’t too keen on the fact that you were blowing Sam’s head up, but… it was becoming gradually more worth the cocky remarks he would surely have, once it was all said and done.

Focusing in on the pleasure he was sending through your body, you hesitantly reached up and tangled your fingers in Sam’s hair, tugging it and pushing him harder against your heat all at once.

With a few more curls of his fingers and swirls of his tongue over your clit, the knot in your stomach tightened.

And just before it snapped inside you, you gave Sam a broken, verbal warning of your orgasm.

“Sammy… i- i’m gonna c-cum,”

A borderline evil, and definitely cocky, chuckle erupted from him, as he sucked your clit into his mouth and continued a steady pace with his fingers.

You tugged away at his hair, eyes falling shut as the band of pleasure broke inside you.

And he guided you through it all, coaxing endless moans and slurs of his name out of you as you came around his fingers.

But as you started to come down, his pace hardly slowed.

You gasped and writhed against his mouth in overstimulation, tugging at his hair in attempts to get his all too skilled mouth away from your hypersensitive clit.

Sam was having none of it.

Pulling his fingers out of you carefully, but quickly, he reached up with both hands and grabbed your wrists. He pulled them away from his hair and pinned them down to the bed at your sides, never letting his tongue lose contact with your bundle of nerves.

“Sam- I can’t!“ You choked out, trying to decide if you wanted him to stop. Or, judging by the way your hips had started grinding into his mouth again, if you wanted him to keep going. “Samuel-“

He broke away suddenly, mouth and chin soaked with your wetness and his chest heaving lightly.

“Just a minute ago you were begging for more?” Sam moved his hands from your wrists, down to your hands and laced his fingers with yours. Still keeping them pinned firmly in place.

Sam shook his head softly in faux disappointment. “Trying to give you more and you can’t even take it. Pitiful.”

He returned his mouth to your clit and a choked moan erupted from you.

It was completely foreign to you; being lead straight into a second orgasm. You were lucky with past partners, to even get one.

And here Sam was, coaxing another out of you at the mercy of his tongue.

He continued toying with your clit, babying it with his tongue in different ways to see what made you moan the loudest.

“Sam- Keep going, keep going,” you pleaded, grinding yourself up into his tongue.

Sam acknowledged your pleaded with a soft squeeze of his hands, still tangled with your own.

Knowing you were getting close again, he sucked your clit into his mouth, teasing his tongue around it in search of a little spot that would send you over.

Sam’s tongue flicked against the side of your bundle of nerves just right, eliciting a stream of curses and moans from you.

“Don’t stop, Sam-“ You forced your voice to squeak the words out. “-M’gonna cum.”

Your body began to squirm beneath him involuntarily, forcing Sam to release your hands and throw his arms over your hips.

The bliss-filled coil exploded in you once again, shooting shock waves of pleasure down through your hands and all the way down to your toes.

Faintly, you could hear and feel Sam groan against you, drawn out of him when he couldn’t help but grind his hips into the mattress.

Once you had calmed down, Sam pulled his mouth away from you with a prideful smile.

“You’re so cute when I make a mess of you, princess.” Sam’s skilled tongue appeared and licked over his lips. “I could do nothing but play with that pretty cunt every day and I’d be very happy.”

A crimson blush dusted over you cheeks. Definitely not a shock to either of you. Sam really knew how to keep you blushing, apparently.

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him that you absolutely wouldn’t mind him eating you out every hour of the day.

But as Sam crawled over you, all the thoughts in your head scattered in all directions.

Instead of saying anything, you brought your hands up to find the hem of his shorts and pushing them down.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” Sam teased, watching your hands for a moment before joining his own to help you.

You quipped right back without missing a beat. “Interesting choice of words for someone whose mouth was just buried in mine.”

“Shut it. You could barely handle two orgasms.” Sam rolled his eyes. “‘Sammy, I can’t! I can’t’” He mimicked you poorly.

“I could’ve handled another.” You squinted your eyes up at Sam, challenging him.

Sam tossed away his shorts and boxers. “Oh, you think so?”

“Mhm. I think so, Yes.” You gave him a curt nod.

His tone was drenched with amusement. “I think this challenge is gonna be more than you bargained for, baby doll.”

Sam waited until you were right about to make your rebuttal, before he teased himself over your entrance and up to your clit, tracing around it lightly with his tip.

You gasped, rolling your hips into his teasing movements. “Oh-“

“Use that pretty voice to tell me what you want.” Sam commanded gently. “Can you do that for me?”

“I want you in me.” Your hands found the backs of Sam’s shoulders. “Please, I want you in me.”

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment. “Is that all you got, princess? I think you can do better than that.”

“Fuck you, Sam.” Your tone was harsher than you’d expected it to be, especially compared to the words that had just left your mouth moments before.

“We would be fucking if you would just beg me.” Sam slipped into you, just barely sinking his tip inside. “And make it sound prettier this time.”

“I gave you all you’re gonna get, Kiszka.” You stood defiant. “Either fuck me, or-“

Without a single bit of warning, Sam pushed into you to the hilt. The sting of him stretching you out, stole all of the air from your lungs.

“Keep talking shit,” Sam grunted, daring you to open your mouth again. “Run that pretty mouth, in that annoying little voice and see where you end up.”

The only response you gave him the second you opened your mouth, was another moan as he delivered a sharp thrust into you.

“What’s that? Come on, use your words, princess.” Sam spoke mockingly. “I can’t understand sounds.”

In attempts to deepen his pace, Sam leaned over you, planting both forearms on either side of your head.

The new proximity between the two of you, had your breath catching on every inhale. All the moans leaving your lips were choked and grew even higher in pitch, thanks to his new angle.

Sam’s thrusts were relentless and unforgiving, his cock hitting and dragging against spots you didn’t even know existed. Spots you never knew had been craving such merciless attention.

“F-fuck, Sam!” You threw your arms around him, digging your nails into Sam’s back and shoulders. “Ha-Harder. I need it- harder.”

Sam’s face was buried into your neck, biting and sucking at whatever skin his mouth could get to.

“Harder?” Sam purred right into your ear, before his tone became slightly teasing. “Harder, huh?”

One of his hands slipped between you, splaying across your lower belly. “You wanna feel me up here?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he moved his hand from your stomach to your leg, hiking it up and over his hip in one swift, rough movement that matched the rough pace of his hips.

He pulled himself up from over top of you, bringing his other hand between your bodies and circling two fingers over your clit.

It was a featherlight touch, knowing how sensitive you still were. However, the lightness of the touch didn’t stop it from being just as effective, though.

“Sammy, please!” Your hips jerked and bucked up to meet his thrusts and his fingers all at once.

The thought of another orgasm was dizzying.

Feeling himself growing dangerously close to his own peak, Sam slowed to a stop, but stayed buried inside you. His fingers continued circling over your clit, purposefully guiding you closer and closer to your peak without him.

“Why…” You started to choke out in a whiny tone. “Why did you- fuck- stop?”

Sam pulled out of you slowly, mouth falling open as he watched himself slide out of you.

“I’m not ready to cum yet.” Sam spoke calmly, cool and sickeningly collected as ever.

His fingers dipped down to your entrance, bringing some of your wetness back up to your bundle of nerves.

Your back arched away from the bed slightly. “Sammy, please…”

“I’ll cum with you when I’m ready.” He told you, smirking as he watched your breathing become even more labored.

“I can’t, I- I can’t wait,” you whimpered, choking on the pleasure that was seconds away from consuming your body.

“I never said you had to wait for me.” Sam’s fingers dug just a little deeper against your clit. “I’m gonna keep making you cum, until I’m ready to finally cum with you.”

“Oh, god…” You genuinely didn’t know if your body could function in the way that he was practically demanding it to.

Shifting again, Sam slipping back inside you slowly. He started pumping in and out of you, gradually speeding up his pace again.

Your mouth fell open the second he hit one of those sweet spots inside you, hurling your body into another orgasm.

Your hand wrapped around Sam’s wrist, feeling the muscles in his forearms flexing as his fingers continued working you over.

He pulled his hand away, leaning his body back down over yours.

“Relax, princess.” Sam whispered lowly into your ear. “Doing so good for me.”

As you calmed down, your body ached for his previous pace.

You begged through the mind numbing (yet addicting) feeling of overstimulation. “Don’t stop. Shit, please don’t-“

“Funny how just a couple hours ago, you couldn’t stand me.” Sam snickered, panting and grunting in between a couple words. “Now your pretty body is coming undone for me. Right- fuck, right here in my bed.”

God, he was making your brain short circuit.

“Want to ride you,” it slipped out before you could think better of it.

“Yeah? You wanna ride me, baby doll?” Sam questioned lightly, his way of checking to be sure it was really what you wanted and not a completely thoughtless statement.

You nodded frantically, looking into his eyes for the first time in a little while. Every bit of the sex filled air in your lungs, poured out of you in a shaky sigh.

“You can ride me, princess.” Sam nodded back, pulling out of you. “As long as you do exactly what I say. Can you do that for me?”

“That depends,” you mumbled in response.

Sam clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulling you into his lap anyway.

“Bratty girl.” His hand smacked down against your bare thigh, causing you to gasp and drop your head back.

“Ooo, she liked that.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slowly sunk down on his cock - hard and throbbing from edging himself.

The deeper you took him, the more your arms shook and threatened to fail in upholding the weight they were under.

“Do that again,” you begged through your shaky voice, aching to feel the sting of his hand on your skin again.

Sam’s lips pulled up in a pleased smirk, as he drawer his hand back and bringing it down again, this time against your ass.

The pleasurable pain of it, caused a choked moan to erupt from your lungs. You clenched down around him, causing his smirk to falter and a whiny moan of his own.

“Fucking christ, Y/N-“

“Not so smug now, are you, Sammy boy?” It felt nice to finally have a quip of your own.

Of course it took him no time to recollect himself. Slick fuck.

Sam’s hand slid from where it was still lingering over your ass, up to your hair. His fingers tangled in, swiftly yanking your head back.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge here, princess.” He warned lowly, delivering a sharp thrust up into you. “That wouldn’t be in your best interest.”

Despite his fingers being tightly woven into your hair, you started rolling your hips into his.

“That’s it, princess. Be a good girl and move for me,” He was taunting you; taking note of how you were struggling to hold it together. How your eyes had closed, as he kept your head tipped back. How you bottom lip was secured between your teeth.

Blindly, you trailed your hand up his chest until your fingertips could feel his collarbones. Your hand moved up just a little farther, until it was resting against the base of his neck.

You were convinced that even the loudest of noises, would fail in covering up the gasp that Sam emitted.

His fingers loosened in your hair, his hand falling to the back of your neck and you immediately looked back down at him.

“What is it, Sammy?” You fought to find a tone just as mocking as his had been all night. “Now who looks all fucked out?”

“Don’t- oh, fuck me-“ Now Sam’s tone was whiny, just as yours had been. “Don’t fucking try me. I’m telling you, little brat.”

Your grip tightened slightly around his throat, just as his tightened around the back of your neck.

It took everything in you to keep the quick pace of your hips; your main encouragement being getting Sam off.

“Slow down.” Sam bit out through gritted teeth, grabbing at your hips with both of his large hands.

“N-no.”

The two of you were caught up in a little battle for dominance. Unfortunately for you, Sam was stronger a just a little too good at what he does. So, the upper hand was his once again within seconds.

Just as you felt Sam twitch inside you, he was using all his strength to haul you off of him, dragging you up to his face.

Your hands flew forward to grab onto the headboard of Sam’s bed. You were almost certain you were going have whiplash later.

“God damnit, Sam!”

You weren’t sure if your outburst was because of losing your upper hand, or if it was from Sam’s mouth connecting with your swollen bundle of nerves.

However, you lacked the brain power to figure it out, so, you chalked it up to both.

“At least you don’t have as much to say now-“ A stream of moans cut through your sentence, as Sam’s tongue flicked over you clit faster - you guessed as retaliation. “-D- do you, Sammy?”

Despite how much he may have wanted to say something quick and snarky, Sam was hell bent on making you cum again. Even if that meant giving up a good moment of… banter - as he considered it.

His grip tightened on your hips and his tongue repeated a similar action from before; flicking rapidly along the side of your clit, a particularly sensitive little spot that Sam had become well acquainted with already.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your voice was growing raspy from the constant moans he’d drawn out of you.

“That- Sammy, that spot, i-“

There was a low hum from Sam, accompanied by the soft vibration against you.

That little bit of vibration did nothing but nudge you even closer to your release. Your high pitched squeak was definitely a give away to Sam as well, and like the sick bastard you felt he was, he repeated the same little hum. Even longer and drawn out than the first time.

“Sam… Sam. Fuck, Sammy-“ You gripped at the headboard tightly, letting his name slip off your lips in a constant stream.

Hot tears stung at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. A pathetic sobbed soon followed and you felt Sam’s chest bounce ever so slightly, as result of his silent, pleased, giggle.

How he had infiltrated his way into knowing your body like the back of his hand, was beyond you. There weren’t any comprehensive thoughts left in your head. A few profanities and Sam’s name, was all that remained.

Sam moved you away from his mouth and wrapped his arms all the way around you, flipping the two of you over in one swift movement.

Your chest heaved, hands clung tightly to his shoulders and hot tears trickled down your cheek - almost cartoon like in how perfectly the few droplets had fallen.

“You wanna stop?” It was so genuine, as his thumb grazed your cheek to rid it of one of the little tears.

You took a few more deep breaths, finding his serious tone and gentler touch very grounding.

“N… No.” You answered him, voice clear and certain, once you worked passed the little stutter.

“Open your eyes and tell me.” He commanded gently.

You did as he said. “No, I don’t wanna stop, Sammy.”

a sob of desperation strained your voice. “Put… put it back,”

“What? You want me back inside you?” The previous Sam had returned once again. He didn’t miss a single beat.

You reached down, taking him in your hand and moving to line him up with your entrance yourself.

He was so hard. The second your hand wrapped around him, his cock was twitching in your loose grip. You couldn’t help but glance down, practically drooling over the way his tip, angry and red, was leaking profusely.

“God… you look so pretty like this…” Sam spoke up breathlessly.

As soon as his head of his cock nudged your entrance, he was pushing all the way in.

The breath you released puffed out of you, like you’d been holding it for hours.

“Need— oh, shit- okay…” Sam was barely holding on to his own composure.

He fell quiet for a moment and the two of you just stayed like that for a moment: Sam struggling to hold himself up above you, buried to the hilt inside of you,

“Need you to cum one more time, princess. Can you do that? Just for me?” His voice was as sweet as honey. “Cum for me one more time… Promise m’gonna cum with you this time.” Given the level of which he was struggling, you knew he was serious.

“I don’t… I don’t know that i can…” You whimpered, sucking in a quick breath of surprise through your nose, when you felt Sam’s hand trail down between your bodies again.

“Yeah, you can.” Sam nodded, gently rolling his hips into yours. His thumb rested over your clit so gently, you could burst into tears, rubbing slow circles into it. “Just one more, pretty baby. One more.”

Closing your eyes, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as more tears of pleasure fell. If felt so, so good. Too good.

“Atta fucking girl. Focus on how you feel and nothing else…” Sam cooed, picking up the speed of his thrusts ever-so-slightly

A sick, embarrassing, combination of a sob and moan flew past your lips without warning and you reached out for Sam, attempting to pull him down against your body in search of something to keep you on earth.

“Sam! Plea-“

“Shhh, just chase that high, princess. Chase it.” He cut you off, spouting encouraging words and praises to you. “You wanna scream? Scream. You wanna cry? Cry then, baby.”

Your head fell back and you allowed your mouth to fall open into the prettiest little “O” shape, but nothing came out.

“You’re gonna cum for me again…?” It was half a question, half a command.

“Uh huh.”

Those two little words took more power to get out, than trying to move a piece of furniture all by yourself.

“Yeah, you are.” Sam’s lips twitched upwards in a proud smirk, adding a little more pressure to his thumb that hadn’t once stopped circling your clit. “You’re doing so fucking good for me. My pretty, bratty girl. Don’t hold it, let it happen.”

Sam’s hips were faltering every few thrusts, alerting you that he was close and you were bound and determined to hold back, forcing him to cum before you.

Maybe he wouldn’t make you cum again, if he got there before you.

The way your body tensed and face contorted in concentration, was far too obvious, though.

“Fuck. No.” Sam hissed, mercilessly pounding his hips against you.

His thumb was sweet, brutal, torment over your clit. A few more quick, dizzying, circles away from forcing your soul out of your body.

“Oh my fucking God! Oh my god-“

Not once did you ever think you would be a screamer, but given the circumstances and immense amounts of pleasure, it was clearly very possible.

You also always thought seeing stars was fake… but that was also not the case.

Stars and little bubbles of grey clouded your vision; the sounds around you becoming nothing but faint, background noises.

You could just barely hear Sam’s sex-laden voice.

“There it is,” He managed out through his own expletives and moans. “Ride it, pretty girl. Give it all to me…”

After what felt like an eternity, you started to calm down and well… feel like you were back in your own body.

“Y/N,” Sam drawled out your name, almost singing it. “Are you still on planet earth?”

A humorless huff of a giggle blew out of you as you mumbled, “Hardly…”

Feeling Sam’s weight lift off of you, the bed dipped lightly at the foot. You forced your eyes open for the first time, drinking in Sam’s naked, mildly sweaty body while his back was towards you.

“Where are-“

“Gonna go get something to clean you up.” He answered, already knowing what you were asking.

Patiently, you waited for him to return. It wasn’t a long wait and when he did reappear into the bedroom, he was sporting the cheekiest smile you had ever seen.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Sam lied quickly, obviously fighting back giggles by the way his tone was pitched up.

“Sam, I swear, if you don’t tell me right now…” Rather than your tone being laced with irritation, it was playful.

He crawled back into the bed, sitting down between your legs and nudging your legs apart a little. His smile grew a little wider.

“I was just thinking about how I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

His words registered, but your answered was delayed thanks to the hiss that you pulled through clenched teeth.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-“ Sam mumbled sweetly, concentrating intently on carefully wiping you off.

“It’s okay.” Your own lips pulled up in a lazy smile, thankful to see he had a sweet side.

“I, uhm… I don’t think I hate you either.”

Sam’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, hooded from a fresh sleepiness and sparkling with the post-sex glossiness.

Nothing else was said while he finished cleaning you up, too focused on not hurting you.

He cleaned himself up after, crawling back into bed next to you.

“We can do this, right?” Sam teased. “We can go from being insanely irritated with each other to cuddling… right??”

You tucked yourself closer to his body and giggled.

“I… I guess?” You shrugged against him. “You’re still gonna get on my nerves, though.”

“Whatever.” the scoff Sam let out was far too dramatic.

“Hey, you never know.” You peaked over your shoulder at him, mimicking one of his sly little smirks. “Maybe I’ll hate you again in the morning when I wake up.”

Sam’s mouth fell open in faux shock, but a bright, toothy smile forced it’s way into replacing it.

In a blink, his lips were attacking your neck with playful kisses,

“Two can play that game, you little shit.”

@ageofbarbarians @shutupdevvie @jake-kiszkas-smirk @theweightofjake @belovedsamuel @gardensgatedaisy @positivegvfthings @gretasmokerising @jordierama @doodle417 @asparrowofthedawn @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @greta-van-chaos @greta-van-fics @mintysammykiszka @skankforjakekiszka @sarakay-gvf @teddiie @colorstreammind @ofburningskies @groovyvanfleet @of-infinite-wonders @highladyofasgard @samkooszka @sammysprincess

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bigfan-fanfic · 10 months

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Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)

@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years) maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?

(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)

"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."

The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.

"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.

"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist

You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.

With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.

You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.

You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.

You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."

So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)

Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.

"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.

"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"

Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."

"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."

"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.

"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"

"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."

"Fuck." you growl.

Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"

He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.

"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"

"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.

"Sorry, no." Sam adds.

"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."

They think.

They look at each other.

They nod.

"Welcome back." Dean grins.

"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."

Sam winces.

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

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bengiyo · 18 days

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Unknown Ep 10 Stray Thoughts

Before I start, I wanna give a big thanks to everyone who tagged their spoilers for episodes 11 and 12. We're a small community, and I really appreciate everyone looking out for each other. This has been an excellent series with some really good writing from the fans.

Last week, Yuan learned that Le Ge had returned, and decided to take it upon himself to resolve the situation between their family and the gang. Unfortunately, that sniveling shit Hu got in the way, and our boys only escaped by surviving a game of Russian roulette. Wei Qian also learned about Yuan almost dying in America, and we left them at what feels like a pivotal moment.

That nosebleed is worrisome. I've been worrying about his neurological issues for so long.

I get it, Wei Qian. It would be hard to say no to anyone who just went through a life or death situation like that, especially a loved one.

Episode 10: Wounds

Sam Lin, the man that you are.

Wei Qian was almost there for the possessive energy, but then Yuan went too far and patted his head. My man had to readjust his glasses before he snapped back.

Yuan is grown now and capable of cornering people.

I really do get Wei Qian here on this. We lost an elder unexpectedly when they went in for a routine procedure to the hospital and then didn't come out.

I like that San Pang holds his ground with Wei Qian on the important things.

Poor Lili is never told anything when her brothers are beefing.

I'm with Yuan on icing Wei Qian if he's going to keep him out of important things.

San Pang may be one of the best characters we've had in a long time, truly.

This ending conversation on the stairs was excellent. Wei Qian finally voicing his conflict to Yuan felt like he finally let go of something.

I am so mad that we didn't make it to the damn hospital this week!!! I cannot feel any security about these two consummating this relationship with all the brushes with death they've had hanging over this story! I don't care how excellent the cast chemistry or the scene work is while the specter of death hangs cataracts over this show!!

#Ben watches #unknown the series #taiwanese bl #bl series

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chiisana-sukima · 4 months

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Oh when you used to sing it to sleep

@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis and @blue-chimera - thank you both for your kind and thoughtful replies to my reblog of this post. The og post is getting quite long and also I don't want to put too much writing effort into a reblog that's susceptible to disappearance, so I'm continuing here instead.

I agree with you both that Dean's parentification and Sam's continued acceptance of vs rebellion against it as an adult are an important part of their dynamic. Dean's dying words in the finale attest to this beautifully (as well as many other things throughout the course of the show); I love you so much, my baby brother. To a certain extent Sam is Dean's baby and always will be.

I think though to a large extent, the framing by both Sam and Dean of Dean as Sam's parentified elder sibling is a mutually employed, mostly cooperative sanitization of the central and most damaging aspect of the roles they internalized through their upbringing: Sam is a monster and Dean is the tool to "take care of" it (double reading of "take care of" 100% intentional on my part). Because of this, while readings of spn through the lens of Dean's parentification are definitely valid, I do think they sometimes risk distorting or leaving out important aspects of the characters' personalities, motivations, and relationship.

Jinkies, in my fruitless quest to process without reblogging a take I knew the OP wouldn't appreciate, I had listened to the interview before posting, and I think while Jensen is being flip, he's also getting at what he sees as a truth in the brothers' relationship. I think he's right from a Doylist/co-creator/actor's perspective--Sam is the protagonist who we see through Dean, the deuteragonist's, eyes. Dean, as a piece of the narrative artifact, Supernatural, is there to save Sammy in a way that Sam (up to that point anyway) is not a piece of the narrative artifact whose purpose is to save Dean. From a Watsonian/in-universe perspective though, I think he's mistaken, and that his mistake is the reason his take sounds uncharitable, even aside from the flippant part.

It's just not a very convincing analysis imo to frame a character who spends the first few seasons rejecting immoral power, the next few in an arc that ends with him willingly subjected himself to eternal torture for the good of the world, and the one after that intending to sacrifice himself dramatically to rid the world of one particular species of monster but doesn't because Dean asks him not to, as self-absorbed or not particularly concerned with his effect on others, including on his brother. Likewise, Dean holds up well as a parentified older sibling with no sense of internal self and abysmal self-esteem in some ways, but in others not so much. He does have interests and priorities and a sense of purpose outside Sam. They're all over spn every day, much more so in fact than Sam's are. They're just not enough to override his Sam prioritization.

The main place I think this analysis fails on Dean's side though is that he, as an adult, is just not a very good parent. Obviously as a child he couldn't be expected to be a good parent (or a parent at all) and as an adult he's already damaged and so it's understandable that if big brother-ing Sam is how he chooses to spend the rest of his life, he may still not be equipped to do it. But he fails on such a fundamental, obvious level at the the most basic aspects of parenting--providing safety, unconditional love, and preparing your child to go out into the world as an independent adult--in ways that once he's a grown up are absolutely within his power to at least attempt (for example: if he wants Sam to be safer, it would ultimately have failed because of Fate, but the logical thing to do first would be not hunt. Dean could've followed Sam to Palo Alto. He could've told him to go to Harvard Law if he can't tolerate Stanford after Jess dies. Could've refused to support him throwing his life away of a mission of revenge. Bought him his own car, encouraged him to have his own tastes. Told him convincingly that trusting Ruby was a bad decision but Lucifer is still not his fault).

None of that is meant to be insulting to Dean though, because I don't think that parenting Sam is Dean's real job--even from Dean's perspective--and I don't think his real job is palatable enough that it would be better for either of them if he admitted what it is head on. What his and Sam's real jobs both are imo is being a container for Sam. On Dean's side, this means holding Sam in his arms with love or if that's not enough, holding him in the panic room, which, from this perspective, is also an act of love. Substituting his judgement for Sam's is an act of love. Not encouraging Sam to hold his own interests first or to grow towards independence are acts of love. Given the nature of (what I believe to be) Dean's actual job, they are effective and competent acts of love undertaken under impossible circumstances, even if the results are sometimes pretty horrific. Because they're still better than the alternative.

Likewise on Sam's side, doing his job well means being a model monster--go to an Ivy, exercise, eat healthy, cultivate empathy, don't have desires of your own, hold yourself to an impossible standard, suppress your anger, kill other monsters when they get out of line. And in the moments he can't manage all that--because who can?-- submit to Dean. When he does those things, he's succeeding at his job, and while it would be nice if "let your brother hit you" or "jump in the Cage with Lucifer" wasn't his job, in the world of spn, it is. He is right to be contained by Dean and wrong to have opinions or priorities of his own unless Dean approves them first.

I do think this sometimes ends up looking like Sam has better self-regard, because Dean's job is to "take care of" Sam, and Sam's job is also to "take care of" Sam. But actually they both have absolutely abysmal shit self-esteem. "I should submit to eternal torture because it's my fault someone else is going to do terrible things he could choose not to do if he wanted" is not the thinking of a person with healthy self-regard. The reason neither of them could fill a thimble with their self-esteem or healthy boundaries imo is because neither "monster" nor "blunt instrument" is a person. Neither of these roles is better or more healthy than the other. Fundamentally, if you don't see yourself first and foremost as a human person, then your life is going to suck horribly. And neither of them see themselves that way.

#spn meta #sam winchester #dean winchester #my meta #discourse in the linked post #long post #i am ofc like all of us to some extent projecting #some of you have been fortunate enough to not have had a monster to fail at 'parenting' and it shows

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whispering-clan · 5 months

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About Whisperingclan!

"the cave... it calls to us, we hear it's whispers on the wind. The voices they haunt us, they drive us insane..."

....

Hello all! I am Cryptid/Sam, I use they/he/she pronouns (pretty much any pronouns)!

My main Warriors blog is @cryptidclaw which is also where Whisperingclan started!

Whisperingclan started out with me posting a line up of designs for the whole clan at the end of year 1 + descriptions for the clan and the cat's backstories! This was inspired by the youtube trend of doing something similar but in video format.

After this however I fell in love with the clan and wanted to join in with everyone else doing moon-ly updates for their clans! originally I was just posting the updates on my main wc blog @cryptidclaw but I have decided to move Whisperingclan over to their own blog!

I will be rebloging all of the previous updates from my wc main over to here and will post all new updates here!

Master Post of all main updates!

Allegiances!

Family Tree!

Character Asks are OPEN! However I will only choose a few to answer sorry!

....

Tags:

#whisperingclan updates [any update posts (after moon 26)]

#whisperingclan [any posts about Whisperingclan]

#cryptid plays clangen [any posts about me-playing clangen]

#whisperasks [asks abt Whisperingclan]

#cryptid answers [all ask posts]

....

Clan Origins + Gameplay Summaries below!

~~Origins~~

Most of Whisperingclan's founders were a part of a coup in their origin clan, Roaringclan, to make Tempeststar, at the time Tempestwhorl, deputy or leader... they were instead defeated and banished.

The founders had wandered together through the territories outside of the clans picking up a few members along the way... as they drew nearer to the mountains they began to hear strange whispers on the wind. feeling compelled to follow these whispers they found themselves in a cave deep in the mountains filled with crystals that seemed to whisper with a chorus of their Starclan ancestors.

That night they slept in the cave, and in her dreams Tempeststar was named a leader of a new clan, Whisperingclan, by Starclan themselves. The new clan now calls themself the clan closest to Starclan, and they have made their camp within the Whispering Cave claiming that they are its protectors and the only cats who can be trusted with it's power.

However... Is the Whispering Cave truly safe? can Starclan and their guide be trusted? Is the clan truly so holy? or are they simply greedy for power.

The Territories + all Clans intro!

....

Gameplay:

Playing on: Expanded Mode

Unmated cats can have kits

Same-sex breeding is on!

Leaders do not automatically chose their deputies

Experience-based graduation allowed

Cats can retire due to permanent condition (for now)

Warriors and elders can choose to become mediators

Occasionally I will do death rolls! (i do this whenever I feel like it- mostly for the plot)

How death rolls work:

Kits, Elders and the sick are close to the death and the Stars as they are weak. Due to this their spirits have the chance to accidentally travel to Starclan too early due to the thin veil between the living and the dead in the Whispering cave.

If i decide that the clan is getting too big I may roll for a chosen selection of cats, to see which of whom will die.

I will mostly use it to weed out some kits if there are too many babies.

#whisperingclan #cryptid plays clangen #warrior cats #warriors #clangen #warriors oc #clangen oc #clangen blog

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dwonfilm · 4 days

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Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 at this point) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Supernatural level violence, fluff towards the end.

Mentions: Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer

Here’s Part V if you haven’t read.

Part VI:

Dean was bewildered, looking at Bobby with an expression that was all kinds of confused but also verged on the side of hope—though he’d refuse to admit it out loud. “You’re gonna help us.. what’s in it for you?” Sam questioned, just as confused as his brother. “What? I can’t simply want to help out?” Crowley quipped back despite everyone knowing it was a load of crap. That was given away by the expressions of both Winchesters. “Bobby, a word.” Dean spoke with a tone that was unamused but also cracking with bits of desperation. Bobby and the boys walked toward the kitchen, leaving Crowley to muse over the contents of Singer’s living room. Once all three were standing by the kitchen table, the eldest brother began to speak. “What the hell Bobby?!” Dean spoke, dragging his hand along his face. “Listen kid, I ain’t got time to sugarcoat this so I’m just gonna come out and say it. It’s been a year and a half, we’re runnin’ outta options here.” Bobby explained, causing Dean to physically wince and Sam to sigh. “I know it’s not ideal, but boys.. Crowley may be our last hope of getting [Y/N] outta hell. We’ve exhausted all the options..” Bobby was trying to be delicate as he spoke, Dean wincing again. It wasn’t hard to see that he was struggling. Sam spoke this time, seeing that his brother was teetering on the edge of losing it. How do you know we can trust him, Bobby? He isn’t exactly the Queen of England.” Now it was the older man’s turn to sigh. “Don’t ya’ think I know that? If he crosses us, we gank the son of a bitch.” Singer was exhausted, the bags under his eyes a clear indication of lack of sleep. He’d been the one more often than not researching things, spells, ways to break someone out of hell. [Y/N] was like a daughter in his eyes, he’d made sure she was taken care of more often than not—just like he’d done with Sam and Dean.

“Tick tock ladies! You’re wasting time!” Crowley yelled from the living room, holding one of the family photos from Bobby’s shelf in his hand. It was from a couple years ago—both Sam and Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby. It was a happier memory, all four smiling towards the camera. Sam was the first of the three men in the other room to speak up. “Listen Dean, I think.. I think we do this. Bobby’s right—we don’t have many options left. If he screws us over, we make him pay for it but.. the longer we leave her down there-“ Dean’s eyes snapped up to Sam’s and the younger of the two immediately stopped talking. “You don’t think I know that?! You don’t think I’ve been kept awake at night thinking about what he’s doing to her.. what he’s making her do? I know first hand, okay. I just-..” Dean interrupts himself and it’s apparent he’s about to breakdown. “Listen boy, this may be the last shot we’ve got to bring her home.” Bobby spoke solemnly as he put his hand on Dean’s face. They stood there for a moment before the elder Winchester sighed. “Okay.” He said, looking at the floor and trying to keep any semblance of composure. “Okay.” Sam repeated. All three men stood there for a moment, mostly so Dean could pull himself together. It had been about five minutes before all three of the men filed back into the living room. Crowley was now seated on the couch, legs crossed and looking utterly bored. “Oh look, did the Brady Bunch finally come to a decision?” He asked, his accent strong on each word. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean just glared at the King of Hell. “What do you want—for helping us get her out?” Sam inquired, knowing there was something that Crowley wanted or needed from them. Before Crowley could speak, Sam added another part to his statement. “Tell the truth this time, we don’t have time to waste.” Crowley couldn’t help but to chuckle, his gaze moving towards all three of the men.

“Right now? Nothing. However in the future I’ll need assistance and who better to have an I.O.U. with than the bloody Winchesters?” He laughed again, and this brought a sense of unease between the brothers and Bobby too. “Vague. Of course.” Dean spoke, irritation bubbling in his tone. “Listen if you want to leave the broad to rot then by all means!” Crowley bit back and this caught Dean off guard. He tried to let the angry side be the side that came to the forefront but it wasn’t. Instead the sad part of him was what showed itself. “Don’t. Don’t you talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was shaky, the emotion clear in his voice despite the attempt to conceal it. Sam shifted awkwardly on his feet, trying to move it along. “So—how are you gonna bust her out?” He asked, unsure if they needed to play a part in whatever was about to happen. Crowley stood up, straightening his black jacket. “Well, since it was an odd little kidnapping and she didn’t have to technically die.. there’s no need to dig up a body. Did you lot make some kind of grave for her regardless?” Crowley inquired, mostly looking at the elder Winchester. “I did. Why? What could you need from that?” Dean asked, not thrilled with her place being exposed to just anyone. “I don’t need anything sunshine. That’s where you’ll find her when I’m done. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a bird to free from a cage.” Once Crowley had finished his sentence, he vanished. Dean sighed, throwing his gun onto Bobby’s coffee table. “I’m gonna go to.. her place. I don’t know how long this little trip of his is gonna take but I need to just.. be alone. I’ll wait there.” Dean spoke, his eyes gazing down at the worn out wooden floor. “Alright. Take your gun, take one of those blades just in case. We don’t know whether that slimy bastard was telling the truth.” Bobby replied, leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen again. “Dean, I really think that I should go with you-“ Sam began. “No. Sammy, I know you’re worried about me. I know. I’ve just gotta clear my head. I’ll take my phone, my gun, the blade—everything. I’ll be okay.” Dean spoke, trying to reassure his younger brother. Sam wasn’t convinced but he knew better than to keep pushing. “Okay.” He replied, looking at his older brother with sympathy.

Meanwhile in hell..

[Y/N] wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, time simply didn’t exist in this place. She was exhausted, her body aching and loaded with scars. Lucifer knew exactly how to get to her, which wasn’t rocket science—for whatever timeframe she’d been imprisoned for, she was living the same few scenarios repeatedly. Right now, it was probably her least favorite one. She was in the woods, running, trying to move as fast as she could. Running as if her life depended on it. Because it did. It wasn’t exactly dark but it wasn’t light either, probably around sunset time. She couldn’t stop running even if she wanted to, because rational thought didn’t exist here. [Y/N] didn’t know she was in hell during these scenes of Lucifer’s crafting. All she knew was that these situations felt completely real. Every time. Occasionally she turned her head to look behind her, to see if what she was being chased by was still following her. Finally her feet stopped and suddenly they’d felt like they were cemented to the ground. [Y/N]’s lungs were burning and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been running. It felt like her bones had become cinder blocks and she was finding it difficult to even stand. Suddenly a twig snapped and she turned quickly to look in the direction it came from, but, then another snapped and it was in a complete opposite direction. “Well, well, well. Look who finally stopped running.” Her eyes went wide, watching as the entity that the voice belonged to emerged from the bushes. “Dean?” [Y/N] questioned, shock written on her face. “In the flesh sweetheart.” He replied, but something was.. off. She knew in her gut that something was wrong, from the tone of voice Dean was using and the way he was moving. “How did you know I was running? I mean, besides the obvious.. how did you know I’d be here?” She asked, though the pit forming in her stomach was giving her answer she didn’t like. “Oh, you don’t know?” He asked, everything about his tone sending uneasy chills throughout her body. “What? Dean, you’re scaring me. What’s going on..?” She questioned. Every instinct was telling her to run away, but in her heart she wanted to believe this was a mistake. [Y/N] wanted to believe that she was just scared from whatever was chasing after her and that was making her see things that weren’t there.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his green eyes dark and unreadable. He laughed dryly and she felt her hair stand up on end. “Dean..” she spoke, her [Y/E/C] eyes scanning his face for any sign of the man she knew and loved. He remained silent but took a step towards her, which caused her to step backwards. It was at this point that her heart began thumping against her chest. [Y/N] turned to walk away, but a hand firmly gripped her arm and stopped her in her tracks. “Where did you think you were going [Y/N/N]?” He asked, with the grip that he had on her arm getting firmer. She tried to pull her arm away from Dean, but that only made him hang on tighter. “I just.. ow, Dean you’re hurting me. Please.” She tried again to free herself but it just wouldn’t work. “Now now sweetheart, you’re tough. You can handle it.” Now she felt ill. There was no way this was her Dean, she didn’t know who this was or what this was but it wasn’t him. “What are you? You’re not Dean.” She stated plainly, her arm stinging with the pain of the hand holding it. “I’m not? That’s funny, been Dean all my life. My life that’s been dragged down by weak people.” Despite the fact that she couldn’t tell something was wrong, [Y/N] felt the sting of his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She spoke, the tone of her voice betraying the strong front she was trying to keep. “Oh, I think you do. I can hear it in your voice. You know what a burden you’ve been to me.” Dean’s voice was stern, cold—she couldn’t deny that the words were getting to her heart. “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t gonna work on me.” She replied, able to keep her voice from breaking this time. “It doesn’t matter what your heart or your brain is trying to tell you. This is me, matter of fact this is me finally getting things off my chest. Look at me.” He demanded, despite her avoiding his gaze at all costs. If she looked into his eyes she knew she’d break down. This angered Dean and so he grabbed her face with his free hand and turned it toward him—just as she’d known would happen, tears welled up at the bottom of her eyes. “Oh, wow, look here! [Y/N] is crying. Again.” She cringed, he was so cold and she knew that something had to be wrong. There was no way he’d ever talk to her like this let alone grabbing her in this manner. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. It was like she was living in some alternate reality. “Now you’ve got nothing to say hm? C’mon [Y/N/N] you never stopped running your trap any other time. Matter of fact I can’t think of a single time you’ve been lost for words.” He spat, which would’ve caused [Y/N] to recoil into her shell if he didn’t have his grip on her.

“You know, I had enough on my plate trying to babysit Sam. That’s my family. That’s my flesh and blood. You? Well, all you were was a good lay. I knew you’d have a hole in your heart after your old man kicked the bucket. I’ve never loved you, [Y/N]. I pitied you.” Dean spoke and that was the line that broke any resolve she had left. Sobs broke the silence from [Y/N] and this brought a cold laugh from Dean’s lips. “You’re pathetic. I don’t know how I’ve stomached you and your bullshit for so long.” He continued, she couldn’t speak. Not one thing could’ve ever pointed to this happening, at least not in her eyes. All she could do was sob. Now her chest was aching for an entirely different reason than before. Finally, Dean released his grip on both her face and her arm, but she didn’t run. She couldn’t. Another dry laugh was pulled from the man that stood in front of her and she just felt herself shrinking. “Luckily, all of my struggles end today.” He spoke, which obviously caught her attention. [Y/N] was trying so hard to speak, but it didn’t matter. Dean had turned around and buried an angel blade deep in her chest. [Y/E/C] eyes widened as they gazed into the green ones they’d once happily get lost within. There was no love to be found in Dean’s gaze, only disdain. However it wasn’t finished there—in an action of true hatred the man she once called the love of her life was twisting the blade. This was it—she was dying today. If there was any hope in her, it was snuffed out when Dean had pulled the blade back out of her chest. Cool silver drenched in her blood, blood which was gushing from the open wound. “Goodbye [Y/N.]” He said, shoving her to the ground where she’d land on her back. Deep crimson quickly staining the dirt. She looked up at the sky, slowly blinking. As a hunter it was almost a guarantee that violent death was the way you’d go. She just never thought that violence would come from the most important person in her world.

“[Y/N]!” She heard someone calling her name, but she couldn’t move. “[Y/N]!” Again a voice was yelling her name, they sounded so far away and yet so close at the same time. Now her breathing was becoming shallow and she knew that her last few moments were winding down. “Goddammit wake the hell up [Y/N]!” She gasped. Eyes opening to see a bunch of stone around her—so she rubbed her eyes before blinking furiously. “Well good morning sunshine, so glad you could finish your bloody nap.” Crowley spoke, which had [Y/N] scrunch her nose up. “C-..Crowley? What.. what do you want-“ She attempted to ask but she was cut off almost immediately. “Listen we don’t have the time for this ‘explain yourself’ shit okay? We’ve gotta go.” Crowley spoke, sticking a key into a weird looking gate and walking inside. If he had any sense of morality, he’d feel bad for finding her in such shape. Bags under her eyes, scars over her body. “Get up, sunshine. We’ve got places to be.” He spoke, grabbing onto her arm and disappearing from the corner of hell.

[Y/N]’s “place” (grave).

Dean had been sitting there for a couple of hours. Just staring at the wooden ‘headstone’ he’d made for [Y/N] when Sam had suggested it would be good to have a place that she could rest. Of course, the difficult part of that—if you could call it difficult, was that there was no dead body. It felt a little silly at times, making things for a grave that didn’t even hold the woman he loved. Sam was right though, as much as he’d hate to admit it. It had become a place for Dean to find an odd sense of normalcy. It became a place where he could break down and get drunk and just.. miss her. While it was true that Dean did the drinking and the missing her whenever he went, it just felt better when he was here—for lack of a sensible term. It was here that he found a connection to her, he felt her presence surrounding him here somehow. Saddened and tired green eyes had been staring at the ‘grave’. Dean had decided to bury one outfit he deemed pretty enough to spend the rest of time wearing. Alongside that he’d handwritten a letter for [Y/N] that no one else had ever seen, so he placed that underneath the dress when he’d buried the makeshift coffin. “Please.. I need this to work. I just.. I can’t go on living without you, [Y/N/N]. Man I want to trust this but we’ve been through so much, we’ve tried so much to get you back. Sam and Bobby think this may be our last hope of saving you, sweetheart. I can’t face a world where it’s hopeless, I can’t believe in doing good for anyone when the best thing was stolen from this world.” He’d done a good job up until this moment of not crying. Everyone that knew Dean for all of five minutes knew or could tell he wasn’t one for crying. It was a sign of weakness, that’s what he was always taught. Emotions were never something he felt fully, always trying to shove them down and lock them up. It was something [Y/N] had helped him with in their relationship.

It was at that moment that a weird noise caught Dean’s attention. He blinked several times to rid his eyes of the excess tears and tried to remain on high alert. No one except for Sam and Bobby knew where this place was but that wasn’t enough. Everything that they’ve fought, the things they come up against, they had their ways of getting information. Again he heard something and so he slowly drew his weapon. No one would invade her space—no one. Realization finally hit and he put his gun down, running over to the grave and beginning to dig with his hands. “[Y/N]!” Dean yelled, feeling anxiety building up inside of him. He was throwing dirt like a madman, trying to get to her. Suddenly there was a hole and Dean could hear coughing. “Baby! Baby.. I got you.” He replied, words flying out a mile a minute. Now his digging was redirected to where the hole began, hands coming up from the dirt. Once the opening was big enough Dean abandoned the digging and grabbed onto her arms. “Hang on I’ve got you, [Y/N/N].” He said, pulling while she was pushing and once her head broke through the dirt she inhaled deeply. It took about a minute more, but finally he was able to pull her entirely free from the grave. [Y/N] took several deep breaths, Dean gave her the space to come to the realization that she was alive. Slowly but surely, she began to blink and rub at her eyes. Once she felt she was seeing clearly, her eyes settled on Dean. He was nervous and didn’t want to spook her or move too fast. She tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak. About to try again, Dean decided to soothe her and take a step closer. “Hey, baby.. hi it’s okay. That uh, that happened to me too. It was hard to speak at first but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He was speaking softly. Tears were brimming her eyes as she finally started to realize what happened.

“Dean..” she croaked, voice still strained but not as badly as it was before. Now it was his turn to feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.” He spoke, taking another step towards where she was sitting in the dirt. “Am I..?” She asked, voice again straining. He took the opportunity to close the space between them, sitting in front of her on the ground. Green hues danced along every feature on her face, giving her the same butterflies she’d always had. Dean breathed softly, using his hand to gently tuck some of your tangled [Y/H/C] hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, baby. You’re here where you belong.” His voice was cracking due to the emotion he was feeling. Dean continued to stare into those [Y/E/C] eyes and every heartache he’d felt over the last year and a half seemed to vanish. “..tell me something only you’d know.” [Y/N] said, still fixated upon his beautiful green eyes. “Wha-“ Dean paused. There was a pit in the bottom of his stomach because he thought he knew why she was asking. It would hurt but he needed to know if his suspicions were right. “Lucifer made this one of the scenes in your head, didn’t he?” He asked, knowing that more than anything the devil himself loved a good psychological torture method. Slowly her gaze sunk to the dirt and that felt like a knife to his own heart. He figured Lucifer would use him to fuck with [Y/N] but hearing it.. he felt so heartbroken. “You have a little freckle on your hip bone, you love to sing in the shower but you refuse to believe me when I tell you it’s good. Your favorite thing to do was sit on the beach listening to the waves. You made me go with you the day of your father’s funeral when you needed to breathe.” Dean was prepared to keep talking but suddenly arms were flung around his shoulders and immediately his arms wrapped around her waist. [Y/N] began to sob, clinging to the love of her life like he could be ripped away at any moment. Luckily, Dean was doing the same thing. Together they sat there, wrapped into one another and crying—these were finally tears of joy.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I am so sorry about the long delay between chapters. My mental health was rocky and also I suffer from mild arthritis in both of my hands and any time I sat to try and write, I couldn’t for very long without my hands aching. Here it is though! I hope you love it and I’ll do my best to lessen the time between this and the next one. I appreciate all of the support and love on the story!

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear ✤ ٠ —– • ·

#dean winchester #fanfic #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #fanfics #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader

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pheebsismyspiritanimal · 2 months

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Saw @salaarfanindia's recent post, I couldn't help but notice some parallels between Destiel and Varadeva. This may be quite the stretch but please excuse me.

Varadharaja Mannar, the elder brother , quite like Dean Winchester.

Both have a younger brother(Baachi/Sam Winchester) who they've sworn to protect.

Both of them have absent fathers. Rajamannar in Varadha's case and John Winchester for Dean. Their mothers died when they were quite young leaving them to fend for themselves while looking after their brothers at the same time.

Both have a father figure in their lives who consider them as their own son, essentially being more of a father to them than their biological father.

Both of them have a best friend who's hot, brooding and doesn't talk much.Said best friend would go to hell and back for them. Castiel went to the fiery pit of Hell to rescue Dean . As he himself says, Castiel gripped Dean tight and raised him from Perdition.Similarly, Deva reaches rescues Varadha from the metaphorical Hell that Rudra and his cronies inflict up on him(Cue : Mukku pogu incident where Deva touches a live wire to return Varadha's nose ring from the bullies).And later when the ceasefire is imposed,Deva comes to stay by his side as his "army" (tbh I didn't think Varadha called him as an army... He just wanted Deva by his side after all these year

Castiel, being an Angel,defied Heaven itself ,always choosing Dean (at one point an angel tells Cas not to lose it all for one Man) in the process being cast out and losing his grace, eventually becoming human himself .Deva wouldn't make a promise to his Amma when she asks him never to set foot in Khansaar again. But Deva makes a promise to Varadha to always return whenever he calls, going as far as to say that he'd be a bait or a shark for Varadha's sake, thereby choosing Varadha. In the end, he makes the choice to choose Varadha again and again when he performs the sword ritual to honour his commitment to Varadha.He chooses to be Varadha's Salaar, leaving behind all his ambitions(if any) and the throne itself which would've made him the Shouryanga King.He gives it all up for Varadha.

Castiel, on the verge of an impending Apocalypse, tells a broken Dean that he is the one who's fated to stop the Apocalypse and Lucifer .Deva, in a prison cell, right before a crucial juncture, where the fate of Khansaar rests in Varadha's vote, tells him that it doesn't matter what others think(or vote )and that he can exercise his power to do what he thinks is right, thereby guiding Varadha .

Cas puts himself on the line for Dean over and over again (I'll hold them off, i'll hold them all off...) even when he knows there's no coming back for him.Deva puts himself on the line for Varadha at Velamgadi , pleading with Naarang to spare Varadha and take him instead.

Cas smites demons for Dean. He even went against Lucifer for Dean. Deva beheaded Naarang for Varadha.

Cas watches Dean sleep (i'll watch over you).. Deva watches Varadha sleepand calms his nightmares(I'm not even making this up).

Cas and Dean hug each other , tight hugs where either refuses to let the other go.It's their love language. Deva and Varadha also have the same love language, long tight hugs where Varadha just melts into Deva's arms, arms which cradle Varadha like they're holding a long lost treasure(which of course Varadha is).

Dean and Cas flirt a lot .

Dean to Cas (after Cas has been staring at him intensely) : Cas,not for nothing, last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.

Cas: *is dumbfounded*

Deva and Varadha... Well

Deva to Varadha : I have many friends more good looking than you.

Varadha : *cant tell if he is offended or horny*.

Sam is tired of his brother's eyefucking with the gay angel...One of these days he'll pluck his eyeballs out if he sees them pining over each other. Baachi and Rinda are always sulky as they have to witness the woobie eyes Deva and Varadha make at each other.I mean hey...anyone would be.

Cas tells Dean "I love you"/ Deva tells Varadha " No one should touch you".

I could go on but I won't. . I know some of this is a stretch but I couldn't help but remember an old beloved tv series and a new but beloved movie together... Apologies if this sucks..

#salaar #varadeva #varadha #deva #varadeva✨#devaratha raisaar #varadha rajamannar #supernatural #destiel #parallels #im sleepy and It's showing #dean Winchester #Castiel

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 9 months

Text

Love Song for a Vampire Pt. 34

Pairing(s):Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Witch!OC

Warnings: none

Words: 2300

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

You can hear the obvious deep words shared between Sam and the elders. Even as the others light-heartedly joked around with Dieufel and Nadege (who had turned back into her human shape), you were too concerned with what was going on on the porch. You try your best to train your ears on anything you could catch. Evita had slowly strolled in at some point but she'd noticed your face screwed up in concentration. She closes her eyes and attempts to listen as well.

"They're worried you guys are going to attract more vampires. Or. . . something worse." You murmur so you didn't disturb the others. Even Paul and Jared were distracted by Nadege conjuring large bubbles that float all the way up to the ceiling before popping. It made the younger wolves laugh; thoroughly entertained.

Evita's round face is calm. "They're right to be worried. That's the thing about magic. It attracts other beings, good and bad. Especially their family's magic. The wards will help but until we get all of them into position there will be vulnerable gaps." Her warm hand is soothing against your shoulder when she regards your agitated expression. "Don't be discouraged.

"This all seems like way too much for me." You quietly admit. "Too much for the others as well. Sam and Dieufel are nearly the same age. We're all so young." War. Jesus, that was what everyone was facing. Your pack had been lucky in the fight with Victoria and her newborns, but against all of the vampires of the Volturi? Not even the help of the Denali coven could make much of a difference.

You catch Eryld Ren's disgruntled voice bleed from the front of the house, as did the others in the kitchen you stall their conversation. The eyes of your packmates look to one another with concern as they strain their human ears to listen in on the conversation. Dieufel and Nadege, while trying to not look like they were eavesdropping, pick at spots on their attire here and there. This was technically a pack matter and you knew if the elders were aware of the witches listening in that they would be none too happy.

"Just because you're alpha doesn't make you free to do as you please!" The older voice bellowed out. You can hear tones coming quietly from the other elders but they're zipped shut by Eryld who is on the war path. "This is something that should have been discussed with us! You've brought these strangers and their magic into our land. Do you even know what you're doing? I swear young people these days don't think!"

Sam's voice in comparison to Eryld's is in a low, calm manner where no one in the kitchen was able to hear what he was saying. He knew how to best handle the elders and their old fashioned ways. And while he may have not been an actual elder on the tribe committee, he did have quite the sway. Especially if it was in regards to the safety of Forks and La Push. He was the one who led us. He still had a say in supernatural matters, things that the elders couldn't really understand for not even they had the honor of calling themselves wolf warriors even in their prime. They'd never felt the exhilaration of shredding out of your soft and vulnerable human flesh to a body that was made of muscle and strength. They had met no other vampires besides the golden eyed Cullens who were a far cry from the vampire norm. Never had the elders had to pray for their life while evading a bite from a red eyed newborn. How could they understand the quick thinking necessary in a situation like that? To you, it was the elders that had no right in barging in on pack business. The witches included that. Sam deeming them trustworthy should have been enough.

A wordless exchange occurs between Evita and Dieufel, her bright eyes in contrast to the dark depths of his. Dieufel takes a breath and passes by the two of you to go out into the living room and address the loud voices of the elders. The rest of you peek out your heads and watch with bated breath as confident Dieufel saunters across the small living room. Sam feels his presence and turns halfway. Both of them stood near the same height and most likely were around the same age. There's a wash of relief at Dieufel's intervening figure. He's grateful to have backup that Jared nor Paul could offer against the elders. An outsider.

"Hello gentlemen." Dieufel eloquently introduces himself with a small bow that has the older men's eyes rounding in surprise. He must look the sight to them as he did dress in exotically bright colors. He adds in a softer exhale "Thank you for having me on your lands. You're apprehensive of the threat we may bring in. My cousin and I have traveled far to help you though. We mean no harm whether intentional or otherwise. If we bring anything that's not of goodness, then we promise to deal with it ourselves. We understand the threat everyone faces in the local town. In honor of our Letizia, we want to help."

"He can charm a snake out of it's den, that one." Nadege quietly snickers against Evita's shoulder.

The rest of the conversation was continued with hushed voices so that everyone in the kitchen was huddled tightly around the door. Seth, Colin and Brady shove to make room for themselves since their hearing wasn't as good as the older members. Paul shushes them when they bicker amongst one another in the process. That quiets them down although you still catch a few hisses of 'move' or 'stop leaning on me'.

With tempers calmed in the front, nothing more could be heard from the men and eventually everyone's back grows sore from stretching out of the kitchen as far as they could without being detected. You stand up and stretch as does Embry and Paul.

"Well, sounds like these have been handled." muses Paul and returns to raiding the fridge for a small snack.

Evita happily nods. "Dieufel has always been the peace keeper."

Nadege leaps back onto the kitchen counter, her long legs stretched in front of her and kick gently. "Oh yes. He's the oldest among all of our cousins and always the one in charge of watching us. With eight squabbling cousins, he learned quickly how to make us calm."

"Is it your entire family that can shape shift?" Brady asks with stars in his eyes, not just for the prospect but also because of Nadege's charm. He's leaning against the small kitchen table that's pressed up to the window.

She nods, her lovely braids moving as she did so. "Yes. Our whole family has been able to turn into birds for as long as any of our relatives could remember. As long as we keep up with our practice, we can keep our bird forms. Once we get older though we can't shape shift. Our anman manman still misses her wings." Her voice grew quiet at that like she's remembering her grandmother who could no longer take to the sky as she'd done in her youth.

Their shape shifting power was much different from the wolves. As long as you kept transforming, it stalled the aging process and one could live much longer than an ordinary human. Sam had told you that when you voiced your worries about Edward. While imprinting tied your souls together, you were still moderately human. Edward could live for centuries but many wolves chose to stop shape shifting in order to age with their human partners. To soothe your worries of you growing old and dying before Edward, he'd told you that as long as you transformed, your aging would be delayed.

"Anman manman doesn't mind too much." Came Dieufel's voice from the entrance of the kitchen with Sam. Everyone had missed the sound of the front door closing and the start of car engines coming to life. "She's traveled more of the world than we have."

Paul straightens up. "Well what was the verdict?"

The light mood that had encapsulated those present suddenly dried up.

Sam sighs and props his large body up against the doorframe as Dieufel joins his cousin on the countertop. "Definitely not happy from being kept in the dark but whether they like it or not, the witches can stay. They want them gone though as soon as the wards are up."

You frown and counter with "But what if something happens to one of the wards? And what if we don't know if they're working yet?" You'd definitely felt a lot safer with Evita there. There was something about her magic that soothed your anxiety and any other negative feelings that ate away at you.

Sensing your distress, Evita puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort your so that Sam can reply. "I'll talk to Billy. He can put more sense into those guys than even I can. For now, we all need to get to work and help them however we can."

"Well, lets not waste precious daylight." Nadege hops off with ease. "Lets get started!"

Yes, no more talking. There was much work to be done for the three witches as they began to pilfer the cabinets for useable tools or ingredients. Evita said many household spices and such could be used and whatever she had left from her recent trip to Port Angeles. More river stones would need to be collected but Brady and Colin were more than happy to escort Nadege out to the forest along with the watchful eyes of Paul who knew that they'd probably be more underfoot than of help due to their puppy love with her. The rest of us were left to Sam's house as we rearranged the furniture in the living room once more like it was a couple of days ago. Those who hadn't been present during Sam's spat with the elders were most likely on patrol. It was just you, Sam, Evita, Embry and Dieufel who prepped the living room.

The knock at the door came as a surprise to everyone since you were so engaged with the task at hand. Sam, being the host, stands tall from where he'd been helping Dieufel move the couch flush against the neighboring wall. His long strides got him to the door in seconds. He opened it to find a nervous Bella Swan already chewing at her bottom lip. At the sight of Sam, she lets go of her lip and attempts to stand straighter in his presence.

"Hey Sam." her voice is quiet but you can tell she's trying her best to be brave in front of your intimidating alpha who towered over her with ease.

"Ah, the witch in training." Sam teases causing Bella's brows to arch in confusion to his words.

Quickly you and Evita shove Sam unceremoniously out of the way. "Bella! It's good to see you." You hastily greet her since Sam didn't. Excitedly you push Evita forward. "Evita, Bella. Bella, Evita."

You'd never seen the expression of pure awe on Bella's face before. Not like that. Her usually pale face had a glow to it when she looked upon Evita. Even knowing that Evita was Jacob's imprintee did not dampen the introduction. "I-It's nice to meet you." She holds out her hand for a shake which Evita eagerly grabs.

"Igualmente.. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say hello the first time you saw me."

Bella shakes her head. "No it's alright. You literally had your hands full." Her blush is dark and noticeable on her cheeks as she's trying her best not to stutter in front of her. "What you were doing. . . I can't stop thinking about it."

With her hand still holding Bella's, Evita brings her inside and sits her down on the newly moved couch. Bella's eyes catch Dieufel who watches with interest along with Sam. Evita follows her eyeline and says something to Dieufel in her native tongue. In response, Dieufel rolls his eyes and nudges Sam with his arm. "She wants us to leave. Says we're making the girl uncomfortable."

Bella's ears go red. "No, I-"

Sam just chuckles and shakes his head. "It's okay." He addresses the other male in the room. "Lets go see how the others are doing. I can show you through the forest if it will help you."

They go out through the kitchen's back door leaving the three of you alone. It was better like this. Too many people might have Bella even more nervous.

Evita doesn't waste time as we have little to spare. She goes to tell Bella what she had told yourself and Sam about her potential to wield magic. She explains what she had sensed during her crafting of the first ward, how she'd felt Bella the moment she entered the room. Even Bella breathlessly told Evita of what she had felt watching the witch in that moment. It had been an eye opening experience for Bella. One she couldn't push from her mind. She wanted to feel that way again. You'd give Bella credit to how easily she accepted this news.

"Now it won't be easy." Evita confesses, gauging Bella's face. "Since you did not grow up learning and using it. But if you work hard enough, you'll be able to at least meet a beginner's tier. Enough to learn how to make a ward."

Bella turns to you, confidence shining on her face. Confidence suited her. "I can do it."

You and Evita smile. And so Bella's training began.

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#edward cullen #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen x reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #fanfiction

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