"You're so scared you'll make the mistakes you had to watch your daddy make that took your mama
And everything away but it's not your fault and I don't need help."

NASA
RMH

if i look back, i am lost
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izzy's playlists!
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@arriving-late
"You're so scared you'll make the mistakes you had to watch your daddy make that took your mama
And everything away but it's not your fault and I don't need help."

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humiliating to be attracted to a conventionally attractive person. I thought I was a more sensitive and refined pervert than this
I can never out-crazy some of you bitches, wdym the men from supernatural magically acquiring a vag 😭 wdym lolita sam 😭 yall win i cant
𓏲ּ𝄢 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 with dean winchester
( 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 ) somnophilia themes. hints of cockwarming at the end. sleepy/half-asleep sex. dirty talk. light praise. unprotected sex. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
The motel room was a cocoon of warmth, the kind that only comes when the sun’s been up for hours but you’ve got no intention of leaving the bed. The sheets were tangled around your legs, the air thick with the scent of Dean—leather, gun oil, and that stupidly expensive body wash he insisted on buying whenever he found a Walmart. Sam had been gone for hours, probably elbow-deep in some dusty tome at the diner, and Dean had taken full advantage.
You were still half-asleep, your body heavy with dreams, when you felt the first brush of his lips against the back of your neck. His stubble scraped your skin just enough to pull you a little closer to wakefulness, but not enough to actually wake you. His arm was a warm, heavy weight around your waist, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your stomach like he was memorizing the shape of you all over again.

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[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
a dream
I dreamed of a boy, a young man. I dreamed that he missed me. He held me in a sorrowful embrace before our parting.
I felt his loss, an immense sadness—
" why are we separating, where are you going? "
Suddenly, I was the boy. He was me, and yet something beyond me.
I woke up in tears.
𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚
Thinking about spnAU!Dean Winchester being reader's bf who wants her literally all the time, no matter where!
Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up), car sex, quickie, semi-public, penetrative sex, creampies<3 BOTTOM DEAN!
(wc: ≈ 1.4k) (genre: smut)
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
| It could be everywhere; after a long day in a motel room, during a hunt in an abandoned house, or at a gas station in some disgusting bathroom.
Today was one of those days again. Dean found himself worked up after a—way too long—drive across the country. Not only haven’t they reached the motel where they were supposed to stay at, but the weather was absolutely unbearable too. Mid July, the hottest of all the months.
Sam was complaining. You were complaining. Dean was already in a grumpy mood to begin with! He refused wearing shorts since he insisted they weren’t manly enough and the Impala he loved so much didn’t really have any sort of AC.
With the windows down and his dad-rock playing from the cassettes he kept in the glovebox, you three eventually did reach some lonely-looking diner. It wasn’t exactly luxury, but hunting didn’t come with a paycheck. In other words; you were too broke for any fancy restaurants.
————————————————————
"Sam, you go and check what’s on the menu— Get me extra fries while you’re at it." Dean called over his shoulder to his brother.
Sam glanced between the two of you from the front seat, catching the shift in Dean's mood.
"I’m just gonna… go order food before I see something I don't wanna see.." He mumbled, as he slammed the car door shut.
"Take your time, Sammy! No need to hurry—" Dean shouted after him, looking way too smug.
As soon as Sam was gone, Dean turned to his girlfriend; you.
Currently, you were sitting in the backseat, trying to get your shoes back on, in order to get out of the car and stretch your limbs. Maybe get some ice cream yourself.
"What're you doin', babe?" Dean's voice was raspy, a twinge of that boyish tone still shining through, despite his best efforts to sound composed.
"What does it look like, De? I'm starving—" You'd complain. He expected nothing less.
"You really wanna go in there with Sammy? C'mon, can’t the food wait? For a moment? Don’t you wanna spend time with your boyfriend?"
"Dean, what—" You'd look up from your shoe laces, only to meet his green eyes, his sickly long lashes, looking at you like he’s starving too. Just.. not for food.
"Baby, please— Sammy’s gone. He’ll be gone for at least twenty minutes. I've been.. I couldn’t stop thinking about you today. Don’t be cruel.." He pleaded. Actually. His voice turned much whinier than before, still slightly cocky nonetheless.
"Seriously?! We fucked last night—" You were cut off by his frame already climbing into the backseat, already pressed against you.
"C'mon, please.. Whatever you want. Let me taste you— Or.. use your mouth on me. Your hands. Ride me, I don’t care—" The way he said it made you feel pretty sure he was about to cry if you didn’t give in.
"You’re such a loser, Dean, like.. you’re worse than a teenager!" You’d laugh, while simultaneously climbing on top of his lap, your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, before you press your lips against his plush ones.
The kiss quickly turned into a makeout session, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, claiming it’s way into your month, just to intertwine with yours. It was a moment full of tongue and teeth, his hands roaming all over your body, already pulling your tank top over your head, leaving your in your bra.
When he unclasped it single-handedly, his lips were still glued to yours. You could feel the sliver ring he wore, cold metal against your searing skin, leaving goosebumps in it's wake.
You were forced to be the one breaking away from the kiss, since Dean was ready to asphyxiate on your lips and die a happy man. You could tell by his panting, his parted, wet lips, as you looked over his flushed, freckled face.
At this point, neither of you really cared about the people that may walk by and catch a glimpse of the heated moment anymore. The diner's parking lot was pretty much empty anyway.
"Please, baby.. don’t make me wait. I can’t—" He begged. His eyes looking up at you, as you smile to yourself and trail your hands down his chest.
"Patience, De.." You'd scold, although his hands were already palming at your tits, squishing the soft flesh, and trying to drink in the sight. His cock was already hard and leaking in his pants, pleading to be noticed.
His shirt was lost soon enough too. Leaving his amulet to dangle across his freckled muscles. It was a delicious sight, made you almost forget that Sam would be back in ten minutes. That said, you quickly lost your shorts as well.
With this new determination to finish before you got caught, you undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, pulling the fabric down to his meaty thighs, revealing his ratty, grey boxers.
"Can’t wait— wanna taste.. wanna look at you all day.. every day—" Dean had to stop himself from drooling over you, when you finally pulled his precum-stained boxers down and freed his aching cock.
The tip was already flushed in a deep shade of pink, clear pre running down the veins along his shaft, soaking his dark blonde pubes.
Usually, you’d give him a blowjob first, but honestly? You weren’t sure if he could handle that right now, given that he almost came untouched.
You moved your lace panties aside, revealing your already glistening cunt, as your grabbed a hold of his cock, sliding him along your slit to gather the mixed lube of both of your arousal.
Once you finally slid down his length, his eyes fluttered shut and his head tipped back, sweat already beading at his short dirty blonde spikes of hair. His mouth fell slightly open, breathy moans leaving his throat immediately.
"Oh— fuck, Dean.. It’s big—" You should be used to it by now.. but every now and then, you still need a moment to get used to his size.
"You got it, baby— It’s okay. It’s fine— Just move. C'mon.." He urged you on, his hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your hips.
Dean was entirely blinded by the pleasure of your warm walls around him, dismissing the fact that you might have needed some time to adjust, because he was just that desperate.
When you did begin riding his cock with a steady rhythm, his face buried against your shoulder, his forehead tipping onto your collarbones, as his arms hugged tightly around your body.
The lewd sounds of skin on skin and the slick between your bodies now started to combine with Dean's whines. He was no longer moaning, no, his sounds bordered on whimpers.
"Baby— I'm not gonna last— I can’t.. feels too good—" He forced those words out, while his body was unconsciously trying to merge with you, his face now smooshed against your chest. His mouth was left slightly agape, his eyes squeezed shut, and his eyebrows furrowed.
He clumsily tried to slide one of his hands down towards your clit, giving it uncoordinated circles. Though, he missed the spot with his thumb about five times, before he gave up and just wrapped both his arms around you.
"Come, De— Fuck, just— come inside." You'd moan, as your hands were clawing at his chiseled shoulders and the back of his head. Fingers tugging at hair that was too short to really pull at.
The scratching of your fingertips against his scalp and the warm, wet pleasure of your walls tightening and pulsing around his swollen cock eventually overwhelmed him, pushing him to a mind-blowing orgasm, that had him moaning and whining high pitched gasps against your damp skin.
His cock pulsed thick hot ropes of cum inside you, leaving your cunt so full, it caused the sticky mess to drip down against his own lap, soaking his thighs.
"Oh— shit, that was—" He breathed out, trying to regain his consciousness, even though he was still seeing stars from the orgasm.
Then it washed over him like cold sweat; Sammy was about to come back! His eyes shot wide, as he looked at you.
"Fuck, baby. You gotta clean up. You’re dripping—"
"Yeah, and whose fault is that, smartass?" You laughed, before quickly pulling both your panties and your shorts back up, not minding the literal cum that was leaking out of you.
"Can’t blame a man for wanting his girl, baby.." There was that cocky attitude seeping back into his tone, as if he hadn’t just whimpered and pleaded for you.
With surprising efficiency, he was dressed again, climbing back behind the wheel, as he made sure to open the doors to his beloved car, wanting to get rid of the smell of sex before his brother suspected anything.
As for the dubious stains on the leather seats; he just threw his jacket over them, hoping he wouldn’t forget to clean the car tomorrow.
You were in the bathroom of the diner, trying to freshen up, as Sammy finally came back with the food. Greasy fries and burgers.
Weirdly enough, Dean was flushed, trying to look unbothered, as his brother got back into the car.
"Dean, you okay? Where’s reader?" Sam asked innocently, frowning in confusion.
"Yeah— sure. Just fine. She’s— she said she had to freshen up. Heat must be getting to her."
Dean was such a liar. His dick was still twitching in his boxers from his earlier high.
ᥫ᭡ writers note: I'm literally so sorry for disappearing for like a month omg ! There was so much shit going on in my life. But anyway, here’s this! If you guys have any other requests or ideas, lmk! xoxo —ℳ ᥫ᭡

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How it feels to stumble upon an author who writes a scrumptious fanfic of a character you’re obsessing/hyper fixating on and on top of that they have a master list FULL of fics dedicated to them
4 years of this beautiful and magnificent album
You in Dean’s lap
You're just sooo scatterbrained and anxious. Dean helps you stay grounded and happy by placing you in his lap and giving you an orgasm. words: less than 1k tags: lap sitting, fingering, babygirl, finger sucking
Edit: A quickie smut? I was just so horny this afternoon. 😫 Sitting in Dean’s lap would fix me.
Dean frowned slightly as he cleaned the hunting gear scattered across the table in front of him. You walked into the room, your eyes lingering on his hands as they moved with practiced ease, packing everything back into the duffel.
The moment he noticed you standing in the doorway, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He was already dressed to go — boots on, leather jacket zipped up, ready to get moving.
“You ready for the road?” he asked, zipping up the bag stuffed with supplies — wooden stakes soaked in holy water, ancient crucifixes, holy books, crystal amulets, and, of course, guns.
The entire week had been nonstop. Research and prep work ate up most of your time, and with your studies on top of that, the two of you had to be smart about every free moment you got, making each one count. It definitely wasn’t doing your anxiety any favors.
You sat down beside him and told him about the bad feeling gnawing at you, the dread that had been hanging over you all day. Dean’s expression shifted instantly, determination softening into concern. He took your hand in his, his other hand brushing gently against your cheek.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here, alright? Whatever you need me to do, just say the word and it’s done.”
You shifted closer and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face against his shoulder. Dean pulled you tightly into his embrace, and you felt the warmth of his breath near your ear. The familiar scent of him — leather jacket, gunpowder, and something uniquely Dean — along with his slow, steady breathing, gradually calmed you down.
Slowly, between his moans and caresses on your head, you felt that familiar heat rising between your legs, an aching that craved his touch. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your breast. Without a word, Dean grabbed you and sat you in his lap, your back to him. You started grinding silently against his rough denim jeans.
"Dean..." you moaned. Dean cupped both hands around your breasts, greedily exploring their curves as you gasped and trembled beneath his touch. He slid the straps of your dress down, revealing your breasts, a shade paler than the rest of your body. His hands then settled on your hips, and he started moving you back and forth in his lap. All the while, he was kissing your neck from behind.
"Don't worry, I know what you need. And I'll always be here to give it to you." He gently bit your neck as he spoke those words. His touches became more passionate and intense, his grip sure and firm. He lifted your dress, caressing you along your thighs. Then he slowly slid one hand into your panties, already soaked and dripping. He whispered softly in your ear,
"I'll take care of you so well, baby girl."
With the fingers of his other hand, he traced your chin, holding you gently but firmly. Then his fingers sought the hollow of your lips and you willingly licked them, sucking them eagerly, as a little saliva dripped down your chin. The fingers of his left hand in your mouth, and the fingers of his right hand in your cunt, created a gentle rhythm of alternating touches, going in deeper and then shallower. You sobbed with pleasure.
Atta girl,” he murmured, voice rough against your ear. “So damn wet… so warm.”
You could feel him hardening behind you, thick and tense, his hips slowly rolling forward like he was fighting every instinct not to bury himself inside you right then and there. But he still didn’t reach for his belt or unzip his jeans — completely focused on you instead.
"I can't fucking wait to fill you up."
His breath was hot against your neck, holding you tight, as you sucked on his fingers, muffled moans filling the room. You begged him to slide inside you now, not knowing how much longer you could last. But Dean kept touching you with slow, deliberate strokes, three of his fingers buried deep inside you while your arousal soaked his hand.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmured. “When we get back, I’ll fill you up properly. Right now, I just wanna watch you. Watch you fall apart for me.”
He continued his relentless strokes, a little deeper this time, with part of his hand gliding over your clit. Your body began to tremble, you moaned softly, and Dean now removed his left hand from your mouth and pulled you even closer. As if he wanted to absorb you into himself. The fingers of his other hand continued to fuck you, until you felt the approaching wave of pleasure, "Dean," you screamed, lost in the tide of his touch, and as your orgasm washed over your entire body, erasing every thought under that feeling of bliss, you finally relaxed again in his lap. Dean hugged you from behind, and kissed your neck. "Thank you so much baby girl."
dean winchester is an ass man !
seriously. he loves walking behind his girl and just.. letting his eyes wander south. and he’ll swear he’s looking ‘respectfully’. checking you. making sure your jeans haven’t been stained.
when walking down the street? he’s sliding his fingers into the back pocket of your pants. he gives a toothy little grin when you shoot a sideways glance at him. but his hand doesn’t move. and you don’t make him move it.
one of dean’s favorite activities is sneaking up on you in the kitchen and giving you a love tap. well.. ‘tay’ is a pretty big word. the smack rattles out through the kitchen and the force of it makes you jump.
usually, sam is in the room when it happens. his face pinches up and gives dean a sour look.
“that’s my girl.” he grins, kissing your shoulder. “sammy ain’t got any idea what you like.”
“dean!”

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