angels-silhouette

Latest Posts by angels-silhouette

I love you DVDs, I love you VHS Tapes, I love you Cassettes, I love you Records, I love you CDs, I love you Books, I love you Journals

may the fourth be with you or whatever they say

Inferno :: abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Just finished big sky and THATS IT!? THATS HOW IT ENDS??? wtf

never letting yall forget this look 🫠

JIB15 | Classic J2 | Sunday panel [video: amberdreams]

౨ৎ "tied him down to my queen bed, tease him just enough to hate me.." -doja cat ⋆˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

dean getting manhandled>>> 𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ᡴꪫ

okay hear me out… early seasons dean winchester ??

“What if I write it and it’s bad-”

WHAT IF YOU WRITE IT AND ITS GOOD? WHAT IF YOU WRITE IT AND ITS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANTED? WHAT THEN????

men that moan while eating pussy go to heaven

Red Wings {d.w.}

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!! Period sex, descriptions of blood, slight blood kink, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it unless that's what you want!) Also, I know 'Red Wings' refers to oral sex, but I've only ever known it to be from penetration--so it's penetration in this. (if i missed anything please let me know. also let me know if this is fucked and if i should delete). Word count: 2k

A/N: Any feedback is appreciated, especially on this one. Feel free to be brutally honest. Happy reading, hopefully!

—

It’s no surprise that Dean doesn’t mind cleaning up period blood. It’s a part of his job description for hell's sake. And he’s damn good at getting deep stains out of your underwear, or on occasion where you bleed through your pads and stain the sheets during the night. He’s more than happy to help during your vulnerable days. In fact, he loves it. Loves taking care of his sweet girl. 

Dean has been through numerous types of pain, but he will never know what it’s like for his body to attack itself. Doesn’t understand the breast tenderness where even a loose shirt hurts to have on. Cramps so debilitating that you can’t even stand–that move to your back, to your vagina, and sometimes it zaps your damned asshole. The iron deficiency that gives you headaches and makes you so tired and weak. Sometimes the pain lasts for hours without a break. 

He keeps begging you to get checked for endometriosis–and has been secretly doing his research because it makes him feel useless that he can’t soothe the pain. You’re stubborn though and don’t listen to him. 

The cramps aren’t the worst tonight but they’re bad enough that you keep wiggling around and aren’t able to fall asleep. You’ve noticed recently that Dean sleeps lighter when you’re on your period–he’s more intune with you and your body. Always ready to make sure you’re okay. He’s groggy when he turns over and drapes an arm over your waist. His hand slips under your shirt and goes to your stomach, the warmth acts as a heating pad. Then he starts massaging gently, going from one side to the other, then pushing down towards your uterus. Once he’s done that for a couple rounds, the massage gets deeper, and that’s when you let out a throaty groan.

The pressure that is placed on your stomach actually helps relieve the cramping. 

“Feel good, baby?” Dean mumbles, his warm breath tickles your ear.

“Yes…really good,” You exhale. “How’d you know to do this?”

“Found a video on youtube. Hate knowing how much it hurts you. Had to figure something out for my girl.”

“Fuuuck.” The release is too good to be true.

Dean leaned over your shoulder, kissing your forehead, then your cheek–still massaging. “You, um…you know what else I came across that could help your cramps?”

“Hmm?”

“I read,” he pauses to kiss your shoulder, “that period sex helps release endorphins or whatever and acts as a natural painkiller. Would you–would you want to try…?”

You never entertained the idea of having period sex. It was messy and the clean up would be a nuisance. Also, Dean already had to deal with washing blood from his own hands from the job, plus whenever you bled through clothes and periodically on the sheets. Even if you insisted on cleaning everything yourself, he’d make it his responsibility. You didn’t want to burden him or trigger a trauma response with how heavy your flow could get.

Admittedly, his willingness to do anything for your aching body was turning you on. It was something the two of you have never done. With anyone.

“Let’s try it. But we’re stopping if—“

“If your cramps get worse. Of course, sweetheart.” You saw him wink at you in the dimly lit room and your core heated up. He could read your mind so effortlessly.

Dean gives you a gentle kiss on the lips before getting up and walking out of the room. Coming back a minute later with a dark towel. 

“Lift your hips up fr’me.”

You follow his instruction and he slides the towel underneath you. And when you settle back down he pulls both your underwear and sweatpants off. You remove your tank top while Dean takes off his boxers. His cock springs out of them–you didn’t even realize he was hard in the first place. Your clit pulses at the sight. He eyes you–taking in your beautiful bare body as he begins stroking himself. A small groan leaves his plump lips while he climbs on the bed, positioning his legs on either side of you. 

Dean remains straddling you, pumping his dick slowly–you watch his precum building on his tip, threatening to leak down his shaft at any moment. With his other hand he finds your clit. You can’t help but to jerk back, not being used to him touching you during this time of the month.

His voice sweet and slow like honey, “It’s okay baby. Blood won’t hurt me none.” 

A small croak of approval emits itself from your throat while you shake your head in agreement. Replacing his large fingers over your small sensitive bud, he presses down slightly and moves side to side. Just how you like it. Concern sits at the forefront of your mind about your blood spilling out at any moment. But with every moment that passes while Dean touches you–while you watch him touch himself–is another moment that eases the thought of the clean up that has to happen later. You eventually lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, elevated just enough so you’re still able to watch. 

“That’s my girl. Just relax.” He stops pleasuring himself and drops himself over you with his free hand, and leans down planting a kiss on your lips. He pulls away and brushes his lips against yours, “You ready? I need to hear you speak this time.”

“I’m good, I’m okay.” You say as you brush your fingers along the side of his jaw, a little smile blooming on Dean's face. “Go slow at first?”

His eyes narrow at you, taking his fingers off your clit to find himself, gradually guiding his length into your bloody cunt–moaning, “Always,” once he feels how much warmer you are. 

You can’t describe it, but having him in you definitely feels like ecstacy. Every pump was almost overstimulating, the slickness turning you on. The fact that he was in you raw, had your mind spinning in circles. Your walls gripping him as tightly as possible, and your body begging him to keep going. Desperate cries escaped your pretty little mouth. Wrapping your legs around his back so he had no choice but to keep going–whispering quietly, “Don’t stop”, repeatedly in his ear. 

How was sex this blissful? Maybe because you’re more sensitive? Or hornier than usual? Which was hard to believe, it’s virtually impossible because you always wanted him to fuck you senseless. But this was different. You wanted Dean so fervently. The feeling is almost primal…

“Fuuck,” Dean grunted as he pumped his dick into you, “Baby…you feel so good. So warm.” 

His head bobbed down like he couldn’t hold it up anymore, so you held him in your hands–making him look into your lustful eyes. He was breaking already. When he’s close his nose scrunches, his bottom lip quivers, and his eyebrows knot up. He’s mouthing, “I’m close.”

“No–”

“Shit, am I hurting you?” Dean immediately halts his actions, taking himself out of you and sits you up, “I’m sorry. I–we can stop...”

When you giggle, Dean can’t hide his confusion. He’s so adorable when he’s concerned. “I’m fine, my love.” You place a tender kiss on the hand that had made its way to your cheek, “Just didn’t want you cumming yet. I wanna be on top.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” He glares at you as he takes your place on the towel. 

You look at his pelvis before you climb on top of him, and there’s a decent amount of blood coating his dick and thighs. A part of you is guilty for bloodying him up, but the devilish side of you loves the sight. It’s not other people’s or monsters' body fluid on your partner, but it’s your own. No violence caused this—well besides your uterus hating you, but that’s not the point. The point is that he will do anything to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Even if it means staining his skin red.

A loud animalistic moan came from Dean once you slipped his cock in you. Grinding your hips slowly at first to really savor the moment, to take in the beautiful man beneath you. His hands gripping your love handles guiding your movements. Small whines leave you as he makes you speed up, making you grasp onto his hips. 

At this point everything is getting you so riled up and you can’t help it. Any insecurity has left you. There was blood that had smeared on Dean’s stomach, most likely from the hand that grabbed his member, and that was the final straw for your self control. Dean noticed the sinister look in your eyes.

“You like seeing that don’t you? Your blood all over me?” He asks behind gritted teeth, pounding your wet and bloody cunt, “Fuck me baby.”

And that’s exactly what you do. You lay yourself into the crook of Dean’s neck and bounce on his hard length. The sound of his skin slapping against yours drives you mad, involuntary cries escape from both of you.

He’s pulling your hair with one hand and gripping your ass with the other, “That’s it, pretty girl,” he slaps your bottom, whispering in your ear, “can feel you tightening around my dick.” Dean then pushes you up slightly, lifts his head up finding one of your breasts, and starts flicking his tongue against your nipple. The hand that leaned you upwards is now kneading your tit.

That was your weakness—him playing with your nipples. They’ve always been sensitive and are the reason for most of your orgasms, which is where you were heading. Fast. Dean’s taken over again. He’s humming into your breast as he takes it in his mouth, and his hips are bucking into yours at an ungodly speed. Your stomach is twisting at the stimulation, your body is shaking. There’s no strength left to support yourself, you begin to sway. Dean eventually guiding you to rest onto him.

“Dean, I’m…I’m cumming.”

“Yeah, angel. Can feel you throbbing. God…” He lets out a sharp exhale, eyes rolling back–he’s so close to spilling into you. Reaching down to pull himself out of your pussy–but you refuse, needing him in every way imaginable. Pulling his hand away from where you two were connected, “I–I can’t hold it. Baby, please!” 

“Cum in me.”

“Wha–”

You grind as fast as you’re able to.

 “You heard me,” seductively exaggerating your next words, “Cum. In. Me.”

“Oh fuuck, yeah–yeah…” Dean howls your name as he releases his load into your swollen hole, the heat from his climax flowing through you. The euphoria that was clouding your judgement slowly wearing off. Breaths are evening out, while you still slowly move yourself up and down–milking little spasms out of Dean until he begs for you to stop.

“Dirty girl, having me cum in you. Didn’t expect you’d like period sex this much.” A huge grin spreads across his face, love in his eyes, “How’s the pain?”

You say as you cup his face with one hand, returning the happiness, “Gone.”

“Good. Also didn’t expect you to get turned on by having your blood covering me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, it’s hot. C’mere.” Grabbing you by the nape of your neck, he pulls you into a soft, sensual kiss. “I felt so close to you, watching how turned on you got. How wild you looked, made me want to give you my children.”

“Well, you did. Technically.” You smirk. A look of defeat washed over him, he was serious. His demeanor makes you compose your humor, “Well, this is a good start then.” 

There’s that adorable smile and those cute crows feet that crinkle around his eyes.

“Let’s wait a little while though, I have a feeling you’re gunna want me to fuck you while you’re on your period more often.” 

“Mmh, how’d you know?”

“Honey, you gave me my first set of red wings and you got so hot and bothered by it. I know you, know what you want.” He gets off the bed and yanks you into his arms, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

—

tags! @aylacavebear @daylighted @ambiguous-avery @deans-spinster-witch (if you want to be untagged, there's no judgement!)

ok but dean just lying on top of reader completely, pressing her into the mattress as he buries his head in her neck while she plays with his hair and soothes him and he’s just so relaxed and calm and loved and CDDGFCYFYTVUGVGVCXERTDCYFYFFFG

SCREAMING BC YES !!!!! full body weight on her, entirely relaxed and mushy-brained bc he can finally be soft :(( like patting his head like a lil puppy and just basking in each other’s warmth and company ???? yes pls my turn when ???

i also hc that dean likes having ur full body weight on him too !!!! like that man is so clearly adhd and being compressed into the mattress under ur body? uh huh 🙂↕️

"No... but there is a lot of things that Soldier Boy has said that weren't scripted." — Jensen Ackles | JIB 15

Over halfway done with it but what if y'all are like wtf?? I'm exhausted from work and it took me an hour and a half to write 5-600 words (yikes)

Gunna be dropping another reader! one shot in the next couple days. I’m really liking how it’s turning out so far

Until the bed breaks and the neighbors know your name baby boy

me trying to hold back the involuntary urge to say “i need him bad” whenever i see a photo of jensen or literally any character he’s ever played.

Gunna be dropping another reader! one shot in the next couple days. I’m really liking how it’s turning out so far

Thinking of a man moaning "thank you" when he finally gets to cum inside 💕

need him to hold me and tell me it's all good. it's fine.

A lot of the girls on here really need a huge, huge comforting hug from a man with big arms & it's evident more and more each day

If I could suck out all his sadness through his cock I would

Ten Years Gone

3. Invited In

Warnings: Emotional distress Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I didn't proofread this thoroughly, if there's any discrepancies that's my bad.

The driveway was almost snowed over after Novena had shoveled that morning, but wasn’t too deep to stop Dean from pulling in closer to the house. The visibility was only getting worse and it was a miracle that they’d made it back safely. It still baffles her that only living ten minutes inland can affect how much snow her area gets.

“Dean, please stay for tonight. I’d hate for you to get into an accident…”

“I’ll be fine. Driving in a bit of bad weather is nothin’ new to me. I’ll stay until you get inside.”

Such a typical man answer. Rolling her eyes and pressing her lips together in frustration at his comment.

 Huffing out a deep exaggerated breath she says, “That’s unacceptable. You’re coming with me.” 

“Are you detaining me…” Dean lets out a small giggle.

Then he realizes that she’s actually serious, he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. She had a worried look on her face, and it makes him wonder if it’s just for his safety or if there’s something bad hidden beneath those eyes of hers. “Fine, fine. First thing in the morning, I’m outta here.”

Novena nods her head in approval. Dean shuts off the ignition and the pair get out of the car and walk across the driveway to get to the porch stairs. The porch light flickers on once they’re close enough. 

Must be motion-sensored, Dean thinks to himself.

He didn’t see her pull out her keys to unlock her door, she just walked right in.

Weird, who doesn’t lock their doors? 

When entering the house there’s a sign hung up on the stair banister in front of them that states, “No Shoes Beyond This Point!” Dean is self conscious only because he didn’t have time to shower this morning, and he’s been wearing shoes all day.

The house smelled of lavender and cedarwood. There were things everywhere but not in a hoarding type of way. Everything seemed to have a purpose. To the right of the staircase was the living room, an old box tv sat atop a refurbished entertainment center. She motioned for him to walk down the hall and follow her to the back of the house. Pictures littered the walls in the hallway, some of nature and some of her family. 

Then there was the kitchen. It felt like home to Dean.

There were no overhead lights in the ceiling, only smaller lamps everywhere. Again, pictures were covering the walls, cookbooks and coffee mugs sat in built-in cabinets that are on either side of the small circular dining table—with a big window that leads out to the backyard above the table. Plants hanging in front of the window that’s above the sink. A baby pink vintage fridge reminded Dean of the one his parents used to have in Florence, only theirs was light green. And it smelt of homemade bread.

“You want any water? Food?” She asked.

Cinnamon rolls.

“Could I have one of these?” Dean was already taking the lid off of the glass cake stand before Novena had the chance to say anything.

“Mmm, these’re good. You make ‘em yourself?”

A huge grin spread across her face, “I did. Family recipe.” She slid a glass of water to him anyway. 

“Damn. I’d die for these rolls…”

That’s when he heard a thunderous bark come from the other side of the kitchen. A huge, midnight black pitbull was lurking in the shadows, glowing gold eyes shining brightly in the dimly lit room. It made Dean jump for a second time, quickly moving off of the stool he sat himself on. Instinctively reaching for his gun. He almost choked on his cinnamon roll. Trying to cough out the small piece of bread that went down the wrong pipe.

“Sorry about that. Ghost can be very quiet when he wants to be. Come here Ghosty, say hi.”

The dog is cautious, as he should be. Dean was a stranger after all. Ghost slowly lurked towards them, every muscle becoming visible in the more illuminated area of the kitchen, and sniffed Dean’s hand when he extended it out towards him.

Ghost stared intently at Dean, as if trying to determine if he’s worth trusting. If he’s worth being in his owner's home. It almost felt like an interview? The nervous eye contact, heart rate increasing, if Ghost had opposable thumbs, they’d be shaking hands right now. Dean had hoped he wouldn’t smell all of the old blood that remained embedded in his leather jacket and his boots, or sense that he had killed countlessly–or that he had lost part of himself in Hell and in Purgatory…

After what felt like hours, Ghost gently licked Dean's fingers that were lingering in the air and rubbed his head against his palm afterward. Patting his head and taking a big sigh of relief, Dean relaxed back onto the stool, and was met with the sweet, intoxicating laugh from the woman who is too trusting of him. 

Like mother like son, he couldn’t help but to think.

“I’m surprised he likes you. He usually hates men.” 

“Well, that’s good to know after the fact. Thanks for the heads up…” Rolling his eyes not so playfully this time.

Novena saunters over to him, stands between his spread out legs, and places both of her hands on his face, whispering, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, scaredy cat.” Gives him a wink and boops his nose. He is so whipped already, his mouth agape and eyes pining into hers. The trance she causes him to go into is irresistible.

“Um–uh, you should really lock your doors. Noticed it when we walked in.” He places his hands at the small of her back, inching her closer to him.

“Attentive now, are we?” Still maintaining that breathy tone.

“Yes, ma’am. Wanna know you’re safe.” What the actual hell? Why did he feel the need to say what he was truly thinking?

Novena was so close. Her long hair that smelled like coconut was tickling Dean’s thighs. He was looking up at her, head inclined to keep his eyes on hers and not her bust…

“Trust me, it’s safe in this town. More so in this house–”

“If it’s so safe, tell me why your ex ruined your car? Sounds dangerous to me.”

Her demeanor changed instantly. Defensively backing away from him, she crossed her arms and looked down towards the ground. Eyes starting to water, cheeks turning pink with anger, voice quivering, “I think it’s best that I get to bed. If it clears up tomorrow, I need to leave early for work.” 

“I, I’m sorry Nov–”

“It’s fine, let me show you to the guest room.”

—

Novena had shown him upstairs to the room he was to stay in, was provided a towel, travel sized toiletries, and pajamas. Dean watched her walk with her arms wrapped around her, as if she was comforting herself, down the hall until she turned the corner to get to her room.

He felt like shit even after his shower. There must be more to the story if she got this upset over a simple comment. The self guilt that radiated from her was worrisome–like Novena should’ve known Vince was going to act that way. Almost as if she couldn’t predict it. How would she be able to? But why did it seem that way? And what makes her think this house is ultimately safer, especially with the doors unlocked?

Dean padded across the hall towards the room, dried off, and put on the clothes he was given. They fit well. He couldn’t help but to wonder if these were her dad’s or her ex’s pajamas. Hopefully the former. Is that even appropriate to hope for since he’s dead? Dean guessed it was the better option, he didn’t know either of them but he already wants to kick the ex’s ass. Novena was better off without any of his possessions around.

Laying down on the bed was like laying down on a woman’s breast. Soft but firm, warm, and heavenly. The only thing missing was listening to a heartbeat lulling him to sleep. Instead, thoughts of Purgatory plagued his thoughts. The sleepless nights, killing over and over again, looking for Cass, almost getting killed hundreds of times whenever he had tried to get rest. It’s safe to say that it’s a long night riddled with insomnia. 

Two hours had passed before Dean knew it. The hum of the radiator in the corner of the room was somewhat soothing. Every so often the house would creek, causing him to be on high alert. Worried that someone, or something was roaming the halls. At times he thought he heard whimpering coming from the other side of the house, which Dean dismissed–phantom noises like that happen more often than you think working in this business. Especially when you protect more people than you can count. Although, it could be Ghost or Novena. He was conflicted on if he wanted to check on her, since he had upset her. At times it wouldn’t be surprising if Dean was losing his sanity by worrying so much. She’d be fine. He would make it up to her in the morning.

Dean was finally drifting in and out of conscientiousness–focusing on the radiator was the trick to ease his brain into submission. 

Then he heard her blood-curdling scream. 

He wasn’t exactly sure where her room was but he was running in the direction she had gone earlier. Looking behind every door until he found her. Ghost was whimpering somewhere at her bedside when he flung open the door. Flicking on the lightswitch Dean saw that Novena was thrashing in her bed. Grasping at her throat. Tears running down her face. Moving swiftly towards her, Dean sat beside her and held her down while whispering her name, and to wake up. That nothing bad was happening. That she was safe. 

The sadness that her sobs entailed was heartbreaking. What happened to this woman to provoke these night terrors? She still wasn’t waking up but she had calmed down slightly. Calling out for both of her parents. The weak “mommy’s” and “daddy’s” escaping her raw throat made Dean tear up. Her inner child called out for her guardians that she had to mourn; he knew how that felt. And all he could do was hold her close to him, murmuring that he was right there whenever she woke up.

—

tags! @ambiguous-avery @aylacavebear @jackles010378 @deans-spinster-witch

chat reminder to just write whatever the fuck you want. write that overused trope. write that obscure shit that no one will have heard of. just. do it. your writing is yours stop depriving it of that.

watching courage the cowardly dog to spark inspiration is next level desperate...

The thing about Jensen and Misha is I don’t actually want them to have sex. Full penetration would fix them and I don’t want them to be better. That would be massively counterproductive

I lied, I’m in too much pain from my surgery rip to the idea that I’d have a fic out

FINALLY FINALLY GOT TO THE EPISODE IN BIG SKY!!

Taking tomorrow off of work, lets hope I can get at least one update out by the end of the day

Credits: ititen

open for a surprise! and by surprise i mean what i know mr. sub!dean winchester sounds like (everyone say thank you jensen!)

( mdni ! )

everyone was already aware of this video right? RIGHT ?????

anyways @mahi-wayy + @figthoughts this is for you both specifically because tumblr is a bitch and can’t be bothered to let me send videos in asks 💔 LET ME LIVEEEEE