Scythe

Scythe • 🇯🇵🇵🇷 • 𝟏𝟔+ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄. • 𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐈𝐛𝐟 • 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 :) • 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐩𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐯 𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭,,, 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜: 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 , 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲, 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐍𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬, 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐞, 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐮 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐜 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡, 𝐍𝐢𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚 & 𝐌𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐀𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐔𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 :)

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 & 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐏𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐚, 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝟕𝟎𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰, 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐔𝐊, 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞, 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 & 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐨𝟑, 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬. 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐦 𝐦𝐞 :)

-Sisi

Stepsister!Reader X Dean Winchester

CW: Fauxcest, Smut, Slight corruption, Implied age difference, Thats it

A/N: I ended up Writing this three times it Got deleted??? Ughhhh!!! It’s okay, I always Provide :) I enjoyed writing this Hehe, I have an idea for Sam 👀👀👀👀😊😊😊

Word count: ~700

You were rolling around in bed, trying to sleep. Usually you could sleep just fine, but tonight there’s a random wave of heat lingering in the air. You toss and turn while groaning quietly. Dean overheard your muffled noises, and knocked on your door. “You alright in there, Sweetheart?” He asks. You just groan in response. He opens the door and slips into your room. His eyes immediately scan you, a look of sympathy on his face. Your body is covered in a layer of sweat, your cheeks dusted with a shade of pink. There’s a weird, heat in your stomach you can’t quite describe. It’s confusing, and it makes your eyes water with frustration.

“Hey hey, It’s okay. What’s wrong? You in pain?” You feared if you opened your mouth to speak, you’d start sobbing in his lap. Your bottom lip wobbled and the concern on his face softened into an understanding expression. “I feel weird, I can’t sleep.” You mumbled, looking at your lap. “Maybe you need to let some stress out, yeah? Blow off some steam?” He says, a soft smile on his face. You nod but you don’t really know what he means. “You know what I do to let off steam?” He asks. You don’t say anything, you just let him speak. “I jack off. You ever do that? Touch yourself?” He tilted his head to meet your eyes. You shake your head, he pats his thigh, signaling you to sit on his lap. “You want me to help you feel better? so you can sleep?” He whispers, “Itll be our secret, Okay? Dont tell Sammy, or Dad. Promise, sweetheart?” He sticks his pinky out. You link your pinky to his, sitting in his lap.

Little sister x Dean or Sam. Maybe both you can choose if you want it to be stepsister or not<3

-Sisi

-🧸

P.S you can also call me sisi that's what everyone one calls me<3

My ao3 is BustDownBitchBleed

Dean Winchester/𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 𝟖𝟔𝟎

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫, 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞!!! 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐓-𝐓 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!!! :𝐃

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑫𝒖𝒃𝒄𝒐𝒏/𝑵𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏, 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕

“Dean, I don’t think this is a very good idea. Stealing a police car? How did you even manage something like this?” Sam asked his brother. Dean looked up from his phone and shrugged. “It’s not exactly hard to do.” He answered. Right, like he’s done it before. Sam rolls his eyes before hesitantly slumping into the passenger seat. As they drove down the dark, slightly wet road, Dean spoke up, “Sammy, do you think we could pull someone over?” He asked with a slight grin on his face. Sam sighed. “We don’t exactly give off police officer energy, smartass. We don’t even have a uniform on.” He replied. “Whatever” Dean grumbled.

You’re almost home, Just a few blocks away, until you notice the blaring noise of a police siren. Fuck. Seriously? You can’t afford another goddamn ticket, let alone spend a night in jail. You reluctantly pull over, putting your car in park before sitting there, waiting for the police officer to come out. You roll your window down, And you’re greeted to a man without a uniform. It puzzles you for a second, but you don’t question it.

“What can I do for you- uh..Officer?” You ask quietly, gulping nervously. You hope you don’t sound drunk, or smell like alcohol. The man just looks at you, he eyes the dress you have on, then looks back up to your face. “Evening Miss. You have any idea why I stopped you tonight?” He asked you. It sounded so foreign. You just shake your head, your throat is too dry to speak. “You were doing 45 in a 30.” He says bluntly. Were you actually going that fast? You don’t even remember. You just look down at your thighs before his voice snaps you out of your tipsy daze. “Step out of the car for me.” You stammer before finding your words, “W-what? Step out? I didn’t d-do anything.” you quickly say, panicking. “I’m not asking, sweetheart. Step out. Of the car.” He repeats.

You tumble slightly out of the car, Standing as straight as you can. You look up at the man, who has a big smile on his face. “I gotta search you.” He says. “Hands flat on the car.” You quickly press your palms against the hot hood of your car, it makes you wince. You lean forward slightly, letting him “search” you. He starts at the top of your dress, pressing his hands into the heat of your chest, groping you. It’s not gentle, it’s firm and enough pressure to keep you nervous. “You been drinking tonight, huh? You smell like a big ol’ bottle of Pink Whitney.” He says lowly while making his way down your body. He’s practically grabbing handfuls of your ass, making you gasp. Your head feels heavy, far too heavy on your shoulders and your head lolls to the side to get a good look at him. He’s concentrating, his lip tucked between his teeth as he works his palms into your ass. He lifts your dress up, grabbing at the insides of your thighs. You can’t even speak. His hands are warm, rough and oddly grounding.

“Gonna be good for me?” He asks you, but you can’t talk. you nod dumbly, panting softly as he pulls your panties to the side with his fingers. He groans at your wetness, and you whimper when he toys with your clit. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, slapping the head of his cock onto your wet pussy. You moan quietly, and he thrusts into you slowly with a long groan. “There we go sweetheart.” He mumbles. You feel a hot tingling in your spine as he fucks up into you, letting out tiny gasps and moans of pleasure and pain. He’s huge. If you weren’t wet, You’d be crying in pain. He’s grunting with every thrust, the fat head of his dick pressing deep into that spot you can’t hit on your own.