milkb0nny

[milkb0nny]

Hello. I saw the open request box and I didn’t know if you would be open to write something for Bjorn? Is he a character that you like? Do you have a favourite character from Series Vikings? I read a lot of your work and it’s so beautiful. Would you be able to write something about and obsessed Bjorn with reader and maybe some smuttyness ✨✨✨Mybe she joins him on the first trip to the Mediterranean 😍😍Andhe can see her from the ship across speaking to Floki and Helga ?

loyal dishonesty

Björn x neutral!reader

Björn: A man obsessing over you

Summary: Björn, who is known to be an adventurous and lustful lover, finally caught an endless desire: you. Though, how is he to portray his passion and admiration towards you?

Note: Thank you for your request! Björn is an... okay character. I rewatched the series so many times and with every rewatch I'm able to like him more. Still, he's far away from being a favorite. 😭 I love Ivar and Floki, as well as Helga and Torvi. Also - the smüt might be a little... Well, I usually don't write smüt. 🫠

Warnings: a little smüt, lustful behavior

Word Count: -

♡....━━━━━━━........ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ........━━━━━━━....♡

⚜️ When Björn fell for you, his attention became laser-focused on you. The first spark emerged just like with other women, though with you he felt he couldn't reach you. You were different - hard to get yet playful. He's known for his ambition and drive, but when he's in love, that intensity is redirected towards his beloved. His mind desired you, his body burned for your touch and his eyes were always glued on your very beautiful features. Every decision he made was influenced by thoughts of you.

⚜️ He kindly offered you drinks, a lovely chat or a sweet tease to make him seem interesting. Your personality was not only captivating but making him obsessive. Björn's love manifested as a fierce protectiveness - and an unhealthy obsession with you. He was almost obsessive about keeping you safe, especially on the way to the Mediterranean Sea. He secretly checked on you - your health, your daily activities and your bonds with others.

⚜️ Although his history with cheating is well known, he's also a jealous person. He despised to view you with other men or women who glared at you with lust. Björn felt entitled to you as if he had owned the right to you. No one should come too close, no one should touch your precious body without his permission. Though you weren't his, he still kept barging in whenever a person insisted perverted intentions.

⚜️ Björn is not one who opens up. He prefers to be viewed as the strong provider, a fearless man and a good soldier. However everyone is vulnerable. Björn found himself in a difficult position: he wanted to be vulnerable to show you his honest love though he didn't want to lose his identity as a powerful man. Throughout your time together you watched the thick wall break into pieces little by little. You learned about his flaws, his emotional struggles and especially about his insufferable self esteem. Deep inside he was more insecure than you ever had anticipated. Nevertheless you loved him for sharing that with you which was another reason to never let you go. You knew things no one else was supposed to know. In order to keep his secrets hidden, he needed to make you his. His only.

⚜️ As Björn's love deepens, so does his desperation to hold onto it. Emotions crept up his mind he had never encountered before with anyone else. A strange feeling, robbing his thoughts at night. He fears losing you, his passion, more than anything else and is willing to go to extreme lengths to keep you by his side, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness or ambitions. You did not only entertain him, you showed him how true love looked like. The feeling of your warmth was unique and too worthy to ever let go of. Your embrace motivated him to fight for his ambitions but you also scared him. You could not only pass away during battle, but sicknesses also haunt people's lives. A constant bitter taste - one that made him into a loyal husband.

⚜️ His care showed through intimate times as well. Whenever you begged him for nightly adventures, he was more than ready to fulfill your desires. However, in the back of his foggy mind, he would always make sure you're comfortable. Scaring you or hurting you during such vulnerable actions frightened him. Even if his thrusts were rough and heavy, his hands kept softly petting your shoulders.

⚜️ His obsession with you came so far, that he never engages in positions where he can't see your face. Oh, how he adores your flushed red face, your closed eyes and the messy hair of yours. Björn was convinced he would miss out on your heavenly being if the two of you would not see each other during the deed.

⚜️ Björn is a master of seduction, and he loves to show his affection through physical intimacy. Whatever he lays his eyes on isn't safe from his flirtatious attempts. Especially with you he loved to take his time. Playfulness was a form of embracing his love: he would tease you, give you soft pecks and would tickle you only to hear you laugh. From tender caresses to steamy embraces, every touch is filled with desire and longing. He'll tease and flirt shamelessly, always keeping you on your toes with his witty banter and mischievous grin. After all, you were the one for him.

♡....━━━━━━━........ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ........━━━━━━━....♡

#vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings #vikings bjorn #bjorn ironside #bjorn x reader #Bjorn x you #bjorn headcanons #bjorn hcs

[milkb0nny]

HELLO!

Hello guys! I've been dead for about 3 months? And I'm so sorry! Everything was so stressful.

I'm in the last year of school and therfore a lot of stuff is going on. I had some major downfalls to fix (which I did successfully yayy). I also had a surgery which cost me so much energy.

The next weeks are filled with exams but I think I might get back to writing little by little.

Drop your ideas in my inbox, I'll write short prompts and headcanons.

°°¬ NEW: I'll write for Stefan and Damon salvatore!

I hope you're doing okay and happy new year! 💗

#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester #vampire diaries #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore

[milkb0nny]

Loved Burdens

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 10: Sadness

Summary: Even though you desired Sam's comfort, you felt like a burden and did not tell him about your recent struggles. You felt so silly being sad without a certain cause, making you feel invalid to consume your boyfriend's time.

Note: Exams are over! I feel much more comfortable now and I'm getting back to writing. The next prompts probably will be a little short, since I need to catch up again. Despite my small hiatus, enjoy it!

Warnings: unexplained cause of depression

Word Count: 642

The past week you have been dealing with some sort of depression. The weight of sadness burdened you like carrying an unimaginable amount of rocks on your shoulders. You did not know why you felt his way, as your sadness and tiredness came from nowhere; no trigger, no apparent cause. Still, you felt extremely drained, exhausted and wanted something to cheer you up.

You tried your best to hide it from your boyfriend Sam and his brother Dean. You wore a mask of normalcy, painting on a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. Despite your cheerful expressions there were bags under your eyes and a hint of an empty battery. Sam slowly noticed the subtle changes in your demeanor, questioning why you did not reach out for him.

Usually the tall male would comfort you if anything went wrong. Though once again your brightness vanished, worrying him. Sam, who loved you more than anyone else, desired your happiness. Concern etched across his features as he observed you from across the room, sensing that something weighed heavily on your heart. Should he reach out to you? He was unsure, uncertain if you simply needed space or desperately needed him.

But as you nearly tripped over nothing but tiredness, he decided to finally approach you carefully. “Babe,” Sam called you gently, his voice carrying a blend of care and worry. He moved closer, his tall frame towering above you. “Are you alright?”

You knew your facade had slipped and anxiety rushed through your mind. You lied, trying not to burden your boyfriend. With a forced smile, you replied, “Yeah, everything's fine. Just a bit tired, nothing more.”

As anyone would, Sam didn’t trust your empty response, eyeing you carefully. There was something major wrong with you and he refused to stay out of the picture. Instead of accepting your reply, he remained persistent, being worried about you. He took a seat beside you.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he said, his voice soft but unwavering.

You hesitated for a moment, grappling with the internal conflict of whether to share the burden or keep it hidden. There was nothing ‘wrong’ with you. You couldn’t put a finger on the cause, yet let alone tell anyone what it was. Luckily you softened up, his concern consumed you, making you feel guilty for not telling him how you felt.

Silently, honest words left your mouth, “Uh- I don't know what's going on, Sam. I've been feeling... off. I’m lost. I don’t know why, but this sadness just won't lift. I'm trying to shake it, but seems I’m too weak for it.”

Even though you avoided his gaze, you sought to look at him. Sam sighed, putting his big, warm palm on your waist. “You’re not too weal, sweetheart.” Sam’ eyes watched you attentively. “Sometimes, these things don't have a clear explanation. It's okay. It’s okay not to be fine, Y/n. You're not alone in this."

Sam pulled you closer on your waist, embracing you into an intimate hug. Immediately a big chunk of weight dropped since you finally had opened up to your significant other. It helped you from the second he hugged you.

Your whispers again filled the room, “I appreciate you," you admitted, "I just... I didn't want to burden you guys with it. You both have so much on your plates already."

Sam's thumb traced comforting circles on your back. He was warm, huggable and so tender with you, that you melted into his care. “You're not a burden. Never. We're a family, and family supports each other. Dean and I are here for you, no matter what.”

An honest smile covered your lips, “I love you, Sam.”

The hug tightened and you felt how Sam pressed his lips on your head.

“I love you too.”

#sam x reader #supernatural sam #sam and dean #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam x you #sam winchester x you #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn

[milkb0nny]

I’ll start uploading again on next Wednesday. I need a mental break and next week are my last exams for this semester. :) I’m okay and I’ll catch up the next few days. Thank you.

#spn fanfic #vikings

[milkb0nny]

The Aftermath of Intimacy

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 9: Aftermath

Summary: The shared moments after your intimate hours always were your favorite. His aftercare and love embraced you in Ivar's vulnerability. You loved it so much.

Note: Aftermath, but not violent. I thought of throwing in a different vibe after the rather sad 8th day. This one is sadly very short due to my very stressful week. Life was too much to handle this day, but I managed to create a very comforting prompt. Enjoy! 🤍

Warnings: aftercare, mentions of smut, slight nsfw

word count: 595

Ivar descended, lowering himself onto your body, his head coming to rest upon your chest. His breaths were deep and ragged and he was exhausted from the intimate moments you both shared before. Your hand traced soothing patterns up and down his spine, you enjoyed his weight on your body. The two of you were a sweaty mess, relieved yet exhausted. The air hung heavy with a heady mixture of shared desire and the intoxicating scent of your entwined bodies.

Both of you lay in the aftermath, a sweaty and tangled tableau of passion. Ivar’s heart pounded so strongly you felt his heartbeat on your lower stomach. It was a moment of vulnerability and closeness - a bridge between the raw intensity of your lovemaking and the quiet tenderness that followed.

Ivar, panting and visibly tired, slowly began to lift himself from your body, his blue eyes glancing at your smile. He reassured himself that you were okay, not hurting and alright. Soon his expression softened to a tender smile, as he dragged himself off of you. The room was filled with a gentle hush as Ivar, still catching his breath, shifted to rest beside you.

His fringes gently brushed against your face, an act of adoration. In times like these his anger vanished from the earth. No one else but you knew of his loving side, where not a single madness tormented him.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. His questions was simple, but in that moment, they carried a weight of sincerity. Your eyes avoided his blue focus, looking down on his body. You rolled over, getting closer to his body.

Your voice hummed, “Yeah, Ivar.”

In this private sanctuary, away from the chaos of the outside world, he allowed himself to be not a warrior but a companion in the aftermath of shared intimacy. Leaning in, Ivar pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

His kisses after your shared intimacy were your favorite. His care and love flowed through your whole body, telling you how much he admired you. As Ivar deepened the kiss, the warmth of his embrace enveloped you. His arms dragged you closer you, pulling you on his warm body. Breaking the kiss, Ivar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or unspoken need. He didn’t want you to hurt, feel used or being scared.

“Trust me, I feel good,” you reassured him, whispering these words in his ears.

The man you shared your bed with hugged you, petting your head. His voice once again filled the room. “I worry that I am too rough with you, my love,” he admitted, looking down at you and meeting your sparkling eyes. Once again you reminded him of your angelic presence, of your strength and love.

You chuckled, kissing his collarbone as a response. Your touch comforted him and his body relaxed further, not needing to worry about your potential discomfort. Suddenly you shifted, sliding off of his body and slowly standing up. You covered yourselves in a long garment.

“I’ll get us something to drink and eat. Do you want something special, my great warrior?”

Ivar’s eyes lightened up, he nodded and smiled. Your pure, naked body in that see through garment charmed him, so much he almost wanted to drag you back into the bed.

Though, your sweetness was too kind and the young Ragnarsson wanted to feel loved and admired.

“Ale, and you as a dessert,” he replied to meet your chuckling laughter.

#ivar x reader #ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings

[milkb0nny]

Mourning with Ivar

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 8: Mourning

Summary: Your father lost his life on the battlefield, achieving the honor to enter Valhalla. Though, you remained breathing, mourning - the death of your father burdened you. Your partner and anchor comforted you, helping to grief and recover.

Note: I'm sorry that today is a little short on the word count. This week exhausts me so much. I managed to create a somewhat heart wrenching prompt though! Enjoy. 🤎

Warnings: war, death of a family member, mention of blood and violence

word count: 883

Ivar and you were in a secrecy established relationship. He had been your rock, your pillar of strength, ever since you had met him. Many outsiders assumed that he owned you as a slave, given the nature of your relationship, but the truth was far more complex. You were partners, friends, and lovers who had found security in each other's arms. .

°°°

The battlefield was a scene of chaos, a place where the line between life and death blurred with every passing moment. The air was thick with the acrid stench of blood, and the sounds of clashing steel and anguished cries filled the air. Amidst the violent clash of swords and the screams of fallen warriors, your father had met his honorable end.

You stood at a distance, watching in horror as the battle raged on. Your heart- crushed. You knew that your father had gone into this battle with bravery, but it was a cruel reminder of the unforgiving war. He was gone and would never return.

Ivar approached you, sensing the tragedy that burdened your poor heart. As the battle raged on, his intense gaze never left your face. His hand slowly found yours, fingers intertwining as a silent gesture of support.

It was a signal that he was there for you. Your father unwillingly left you, but Ivar stood there, right next to you. Seeing how much the death hurt you, sliced deep wounds into Ivar’s heart. Your father was in no means close to him, but the young Viking desired revenge - revenge for the pain, for your loss and for your father. Though, the war was already won and nothing was there Ivar could do.

The battle ended, the wounded growling and the victorious cheers of the living. Between the happiness your tears dropped onto the crimson ground underneath your feet. You felt numb, unable to comprehend the loss of your father, a man you had admired and loved.

Carefully, Ivar put his hands on your shoulders, pressuring them with a firm grip. He slowly guided you away from the battlefield and your father’s corpse, leading you through the camp to a secluded spot.

There, he held you close. His arms embraced you, pulled you into an intimate hug. His right arm pushing you against his chest, his left hand resting on your head. You started crying, releasing the mourning emotions in a storm of tears and sobs. Your father, celebrating in Valhalla, had finally found his peace.

“I'm so sorry, my love,” Ivar whispered, petting your head gently. ”I know how much he meant to you.” He placed a kiss on your head, pulling you closer as you unconsciously slipped away a little. Your head slid to his lap, where you rested finally, gripping the fabric of his pants.

Usually Ivar hated when someone touched his fragile legs, but in this moment, he witnessed how fragile you were. You sought your comfort in him, crying. You couldn't find words to respond, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak.

Your father was dead.

The man who had told you to always stay focused in battle.

The person who fed you, taught you and loved you.

Gone, away, vanished from the earth.

You could never hug him, or tell him about your victories.

Ivar showered you in slow tender kisses, trying to calm your feelings down. His patience was tested, but it was worth it. After an hour of crying, your eyes had given up, and you caught onto your rational thoughts again. Evening announced itself, so you and Ivar returned to the camp, entering your shared tent.

It was in those vulnerable moments that your connection deepened. Thanks to Ivar you were able to contain yourself again and not lose all hope there was in life.

Ubbe and Sigurd rushed into Ivar’s tent, they had just learned about your fathers passing, and wanted to reassure the rumor. Instead, they bumped into your cuddling session, where Ivar kissed your cheek.

“Is it true?” Ubbe asked, indifferent of the relationship you had with his younger brother.

Thanks to Ivar you didn’t have to answer this uncomfortable question, as he replied with a single nod. Ubbe and Sigurd gazed at each other, sighing and paying your father respect.

Then they left you both alone.

Ivar’s voice filled the silence spoke softly, reassuring you again. “He was a great warrior with great ambitions, and he raised a remarkable warrior. He would be proud of you, just as I am, my love.”

The tears welled up in your eyes once more, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. Ivar held you, showered you in love and support. Back then you would’ve laughed if someone had told you, but in this very moment you felt Ivar’s hidden side.

“Death has a way of stealing time from us. But your father knew you loved him. He knew." Ivar’s words were the truth which hit you like a thunderstruck. Your heart ached but you knew you couldn’t deny the situation. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a gesture of comfort.

“We’ll make your father proud, when time comes, you’ll meet him again in Valhalla.”

#ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x you #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings

[milkb0nny]

The Benefits Of Being Sick

Dean Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 7: Illness

Summary: You found yourself bound to your bed when a horrible cold haunted you. After struggling to recover, Dean took initiative to heal you from your illness.

Note: I love this one actually! It's really wholesome and the dialog was easy to create. Usually I struggle with it. 🤍 To all of you who are currently sick while reading this: get well soon!

Warnings: established relationship, sickness

word count: ~1k

Life had taken a harsh turn during the recent hunts, leaving you physically and mentally drained. Even though no injuries happened to you, you got terribly sick due to the colder season. Walking through cold forests during rain, only to fight some ghosts, was the final straw for you.

The weeks leading up to this moment had been marked by subtle signs of illness. A runny nose here, a scratchy throat there - nothing you hadn't experienced before. You had naively assumed that these minor discomforts would fade on their own. Neglecting self-care in the throes of a hunt was all too common, and you had fallen victim to this pattern.

But after the messy and chilling ghost hunt, the onset of your illness took a more sinister turn. It began with a throbbing headache, pounding against your skull. The pain was excruciating, and it left you reeling. Attempting a simple act like washing your face with cold water turned disastrous and your body only knew pain in these moments of physical activity.

As you leaned over the bathroom sink, dizziness overcame you, and the world tilted dangerously. Only quick reflexes saved you from a potentially painful fall onto the tile floor.

With trembling legs and a body wracked with discomfort, you clung to the wall for support and slowly made your way back to your room. The sickness that had taken hold of you was unlike anything you had experienced before. Your tired eyes gaze at your sweat soaked bed. With a heavy sigh, you sank into the clammy sheets, exhaustion weighing you down like an anchor.

In a matter of minutes your eyes closed, and you fell asleep.

°°°

The door knocked when you regained consciousness, your eyes blinking towards the direction of the direction where the sound had come from. You felt the wet bedsheets around you, making the experience extraordinary uncomfortable for you. Dean's concerned face appeared as he cautiously entered your room, his eyes quickly adjusting to the stuffy and dimly lit space.

A worried furrow creased his brow as he took in the sight of your pale, sweat-soaked face. The room, heavy with the scent of sickness, was a stark contrast to its usual state of fresh cold air and tidiness.

“Sweetheart," he began, his voice soft and gentle, "you look like crap.”

Even though you were at a low point in life right now, you couldn’t resist chuckling to his hilarious remarks. Dean, who tried to be serious, only caused you to giggle at his dry remark.

“Thank you, Babe. You always know how to make me feel better," you ironically replied, your tried eyes gazing to the man, who slowly approached you.

“I'm serious, y/n," he said, his tone serious now. “You've been pushing yourself too hard on these hunts. Now, look at you.”

You nodded, wincing at the pain in your head. “I know, I know. I thought it was just a slight cold. I guess I underestimated it.” Your whispery voice represented the lack of energy flowing through your body.

Dean sat down on your bed, gently removing some hair strands from your face, his hands cold. You took his icy hands nod put it on your forehead, so the pain may vanish through his magic skills and coolness.

You met his gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes. “I appreciate you, Dean. I really do.”

Your sweet whimpering sounds softened the male up, ordering him to place a light kiss on your cheek. His cold hand remained on your head, drawing circles on your hairline.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. His eyes told you he was adoring you in this moment. Even though you not only felt exhausted, you also felt incredibly ugly, and still, Dean admired you. Alone the fact he loved you at your lowest point, made you happier than before.

His low voice filled the room once again, keeping you from falling asleep again, “Now, let's get you back on your sweet little feet. I'll make some chicken soup. Do you want to take your blanket and some pillows to the sofa, so you can watch me cook, baby?”

You couldn't help but smile at his words. His care and concern wrapped around you like a warm, comforting embrace, chasing away the chill that had gripped your body.

A slight nod of agreement was all you could muster, your voice strained from the relentless coughing that had plagued you. Dean knew that you couldn't refuse his request, and with a gentle yet firm grip, he scooped you up effortlessly. His strong arms were wrapped around you, giving you a form of security.

He carried you to the living space, where Sam was engrossed in the stack of papers spread across the table, each one a piece of the puzzle in their ongoing hunt. Sam glanced up, his eyes filled with concern at the sight of you being cradled in Dean's arms.

“A tea?” He asked you to which you replied with a soft nod.

Setting you down with the utmost care, Dean swiftly retrieved a soft blanket and a pile of plump pillows. It only took a matter of minutes before you were cocooned in warmth again. You watched Dean's every move, your heart swelling with affection and gratitude for the man who was always there to take care of you. You loved him, so much your heart sometimes couldn’t comprehend it. His actions spoke louder than words, he loved you too.

While you rested, Dean took a moment to regroup and focus on preparing the best chicken soup you had ever tasted. Cooking wasn't something he did often, but when he did, it was like a form of meditation. The aroma of simmering broth and herbs wafted through the air, filling the room with a comforting scent.

Sam observed from a distance, a soft smile playing on his lips. He knew that the bond between you and Dean was unbreakable. It was moments like these, when Dean's love and care shone brightly, and it comforted his younger brother. He knew Dean’s emotions were safe with you, and you were secure and sound under Dean’s care.

You were convinced with such a princess treatment every day, you would quickly regain your strength.

#supernatural dean #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #spnfandom #comfortember 2023 #comfortember

[milkb0nny]

Secret Proposal

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 6: Notes

Summary: Sam Winchester visited you after a month of not seeing each other. He came with a surprise, a gift he had been thinking about for a long time. During his hunts he realized the worth of your shared love, wanting to grow closer with you.

Note: Okay, I'm honest... This wasn't a prompt I was creative with, so I'm sorry for the people who expected more.

Warnings: established relationship, mention of marriage

word count: 814

Your boyfriend hadn’t visited you for a month. His time had been consumed by relentless hunting, leaving you in a state of perpetual concern. Your phone had sat in silence, its once frequent messages now reduced to a rare beep..

This particular evening found you engrossed in a documentary that delved into the minds of serial killers, a topic that sent shivers down your spine. It was in the midst of this unsettling documentary that an unexpected knock thrilled through your home. The sudden sound made you jump. Summoning courage, you made your way to the door. As it creaked open, your heart raced, uncertain of who might stand on the other side. You were still under the influence of the serial killer documentary. Your door creaked as you opened it.

To your immense relief, there stood Sam, your boyfriend, holding a bouquet of fresh, vibrant flowers in one hand and a letter in the other. A radiant smile graced your lips, and the elation that had been missing from your life in the past days surged back.

“Sam!” You said, your voice reflecting the genuine excitement and relief that flooded your being. You accepted the bouquet and the letter from his hands with grace and gratitude. Placing them on a nearby shelf, you didn't waste a moment before wrapping your arms around his sturdy frame. In that moment, it didn't matter that he had been gone for weeks, hunting the supernatural that threatened your world. What mattered was that he had returned and you felt whole and protected again. Sam's warm lips pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The intimate embrace you shared was like a lifeline, and as he slowly let go, you found yourself stepping back.

After weeks of separation, his return ignited a profound love in your heart, as if you were falling in love with him all over again. Sam was your pride, your joy, and above all, your safety. In his eyes, you discovered the love you had always yearned for.

“Open it, sweetheart. Aren’t you curious?” Sam encouraged, his voice a soothing melody. His eyes were fixed on the small letter he had brought for you. You nodded with a mix of curiosity and excitement, taking deliberate steps toward the shelf where the letter was.

With trembling hands, you gently unfolded the letter, your heart pounding in anticipation. A small ticket fell into your waiting palm, and as you examined it closely, your eyes widened with disbelief. It was a concert ticket to see your favorite artist, a dream you had shared with Sam in hushed conversations. Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned to Sam, your heart overflowing with gratitude and love. Could it be true? Had he really gifted you such a thoughtful and memorable present? Without uttering a word, you flung your arms around him, hugging him even tighter than before.

“That’s not all,” Sam revealed, his voice filled with a mix of pride and a secret joy. He gently pushed you back, his eyes gleaming with affection. He was delighted to see how much you cherished his gift, but there was another surprise tucked away in that letter, a surprise that would take your breath away. You couldn't contain your excitement any longer, and the sobs that escaped your lips were a clue to the overwhelming love and joy.

Upon unfolding the letter, only a few carefully chosen words graced the page, but they carried a significant hint about your future with Sam. The time you had waited for his arrival was totally worth it. The joy was so overwhelming that it erupted into tears you couldn't restrain. Sam gathered you into his strong, comforting arms, gently taking the small letter and its contents from your trembling hands. He settled you both onto the sofa. Your heart raced, not from fear, but from the intensity of emotions that had enveloped you. The man wiped your tears away, kissing your cheeks softly. His soothing hand moved gently across your back, showering you in slow, adoring kisses while you calmed down. This day had indeed become one of the best days of your life, but you were also acutely aware that this was just the beginning.

You drew Sam towards you with a long, passionate kiss, thanking him for his sweet words, his effort and the time he made for you. The kiss burned from love, resembling the deep bond the two of you shared.

The note contained a small poem, a hint to a proposal.

You never believed in a bonded marriage with Sam, due to his turbulent lifestyle but you had been wrong. He wanted to be engaged to you.

“I'll ask a question, my heart's desire,

With a love that burns like fire,

In your eyes, I see my forever,

Shall we take this journey together?”

#sam x reader #supernatural sam #sam and dean #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #comfortember #comfortember 2023 #spnfandom #spn fanfic #supernatural

[milkb0nny]

I needed this rn.

Just imagining how Dean would slow dance with you in the kitchen. The way his hands would feel on your waist, his cocky grin as he twirled you. The twinkle in his eyes as for a moment, just a moment, you and him are the only thing in the world that matters.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[milkb0nny]

Our Secret Spot

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 5: Treehouse

Summary: You shared a secret friendship with Ivar during your childhood. Your parents had forbidden any contact with the Ragnarssons since they didn't want you to get involved with violence. After you finished to build your own treehouse to be independent and live alone, Ivar surprised you out of nowhere.

Note: At first I was a little stuck with this prompt but I figured it out. I'm very satisfied with it, but I didn't proofread it yet.

Warnings: overprotective parents, lonely childhood

word count: 1.044

You were a child who wasn’t taught to fight or have success in wars. Your parents had strived to ensure you lived a peaceful and joyous life, far from the clutches of bloodshed. Their utmost care and concern for your well-being came at the cost of your friendship with the Ragnarssons. Any interaction with them was strictly forbidden, and you'd receive a scolding if they ever caught you conversing with the brothers. In spite of your compliance, you could count your true friends on one hand.

Despite your loving family, the children of Kattegat often ridiculed you for your pacifist upbringing. You couldn't wield a weapon or engage in combat, making you an outsider among your peers. Your inability to partake in their games and activities only fueled their exclusion of you.

Over the years, your closest companion was a fellow girl who, regrettably, often made fun of your innocence. Her company was welcomed, though you felt empty fulfilling the dream your parents wanted you to achieve. Your only strength was your talent in building steady constructions. Floki was your secret aspiration and you desired to become as important and skilled as he was. Since you were a child, you had observed him closely, meticulously noting every detail of his work.

In the past year, you'd undertaken a secret project that no one else knew about. Knowing that your parents would soon arrange a marriage for you, you decided to seize your independence and create your own sanctuary away from Kattegat. In this endeavor, you began constructing a treehouse, a personal haven where you would learn to sustain yourself, free from the expectations of others.

It was your declaration of independence, a rebellion against the sheltered life your parents had envisioned for you. You had failed many times to build it this high up in the trees and of course, you had fell down more than once. The pain and effort was worth it though as you watch your craft coming together.

The only things lacking were some furniture, pillows, and your personal belongings. You had already transported some of your belongings to the treehouse, making it a livable space.

As you rolled out a rug on the floor of your new sanctuary, you heard rustling leaves on the ground below. Curiosity piqued, you gazed down, only to discover two legs sitting beneath your treehouse. You cautiously descended the ladder and found Ivar, a mixture of surprise and apprehension flashing across your eyes. Your interaction with the Ragnarssons was strictly forbidden, and you knew engaging in conversation with one of them could lead to disaster.

“Hello there, y/n,” Ivar greeted you with a soft smile, his presence both unnerving and intriguing.

You swallowed nervously, stepping down form the ladder and watching him in silence. You yearned to break free from the constraints imposed by your parents, yet you felt choked with anxiety at the prospect of talking to Ivar.

Ivar noticed your reluctant behavior and said, “You can talk to me. Your parents are nowhere around.”

You raised an eyebrow and scanned your surroundings warily. Fortunately, no one was nearby to witness your interaction, but the risk was undeniable.

“How did you find me here?” Your soft voice asked him fiercely, demanding an answer from him. Ivar looked at you with his blue eyes.

In truth, you had often chatted with Ivar while venturing through the woods alone. As children, you both had sneaked away to play and enjoy each other's company. With the passing years, your feelings toward Ivar had evolved, but your parents' suspicions had intensified. They had correctly surmised that something had transpired between you and one of the Ragnarssons. Although they hadn't discovered the full truth, your last interaction with Ivar had been months ago.

“I've been watching you for a while," Ivar confessed calmly. "I thought we could talk here.” A calmness normally not usual for the man.

You nodded, sighing in distress. "I'd love to talk to you, Ivar, but my parents are constantly monitoring my every move.” You replied, coming a little closer to Ivar.

He looked at you with a little disappointment. His eyes examined you and he wished it would’ve been easier to get closer to you.

“Do you think we can get me up there?” Ivar asked, looking at you earnestly. Your gaze widened in surprise, and you chewed on your bottom lip, deliberating.

“I don't want to hurt your legs while helping you up,” you protested silently, as you knew how fragile his legs were. He shook his head, disagreeing.

His voice, which you greatly missed, reassured you, “You won't. Let me feel like a normal human. I've never been in a treehouse.”

Your heart ached at his desire to experience normalcy, and you agreed to assist him. You helped him climb the ladder, pushing him up carefully. Ivar grabbed onto the ladder with a strong and firm grip, whereas you pushed his legs up carefully. With some help, he managed to crawl up to your new home. Though the space was limited, it housed a bed, a small kitchen, and a tiny bathroom. Yet, your project was remarkable as you practically made it on your own. He looked around, admiring your talent.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” he whispered, smiling at you as you entered through the bottom door.

“Thank you, Ivar,” you responded, pulling up the ladder and closing the door to maintain your privacy. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, I do. I like it even more with you inside it,” he flirted with you, which obviously worked.

A hush of blush rushed over your face. A slight smile on your lips. Your heart ponded fast, you hoped Ivar wouldn’t notice your awkwardness as much. Whenever you were alone with him, your deepened feelings came to the surface, drawing you closer to him.

“You can come whenever you like,” you mumbled shyly.

A flush of warmth crept over your cheeks, and you smiled shyly, feeling the intensity of your emotions as you stared into his piercing blue eyes. It pained you that your parents denied you the love of a Ragnarsson. Yet, it was a secret you were determined to keep from them.

Your shared treehouse, a sanctuary for your hidden desires.

#ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings

[milkb0nny]

Your Very Own Summer

Dean Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 4: Warmth

Summary: You visited your emotional abusive parents in hopes to build a bond with them. Dean had warned you that it wouldn't turn out to be a nice family reunion. He was right. Devastated you entered the car, frozen by the same people who had shown you nothing but coldness during your childhood.

Note: I'm surprisingly keeping up very well with Comfortember. I thought I would suffer from a writing block. Well, let's see how the next days will be. 🤍 I hope you enjoy. :)

Warnings: emotional abusive parents, ghosting, gaslighting, difficult family dynamics, destructive thoughts

word count: 1.075

Once again, you found yourself leaving your childhood home. It was a place where you felt utterly powerless, perpetually terrified of the looming confrontation with your parents. The black Impala waited outside, the engine slightly humming with restrained power and played tracks from Dean’s favorite bands.

Dean had initially opposed your idea to visit your parents, since you had been on strained terms since you moved in with Sam and Dean. However, the truth ran deeper than that. You had endured a difficult and tumultuous relationship with your parents throughout your entire life. Childhood memories were tinged with a sense of fear and humiliation. As a child, inviting friends over had been a source of terror rather than joy. They belittled your struggles, dismissed your pleas for attention, and had a talent for turning you into the culprit for every action they were dissatisfied with. Whether it had been only bad grades in school or accidentally shattering a plate, - they had screamed at you, grounded you and isolated you from anything that brought you happiness.

The house of your childhood remained burned in your memory, but not with fondness, only coldness. It was a place where the atmosphere was perennially icy, devoid of any genuine love or warmth. Instead, it held a collection of memories marked by the freezing emotional storms your parents had mercilessly inflicted upon you. Even now, a shiver crept down your spine each time you returned, trying to better your bond with your parents.

Honestly, you didn’t know why you still clung onto your hope, you didn’t even know if it was hope or a desperate attempt to be a normal person with loving parents.

Regardless of the reasons, the message you had received from your father a week ago had caught you by surprise. It was an invitation to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary, a request so direct and unexpected that you had accepted without giving it a second thought.

Now, you stood before the door of your childhood home, the memories of a cold, soulless place weighing heavily on your heart. Just some moments before you exited your mother had accused you of destroying the family, of not bringing her grandchildren, of not letting her be a part of your life. Their twentieth anniversary would’ve been horrible because of your reluctant behavior.

After all the years you had desperately tried to confront them with their emotional abuse, only hitting against a stone wall they formed against you. They never listened and they never would.

You’re only a menace to them.

You’re only an issue.

You’re worthless.

Thoughts which pained you began to crawl up on you, biting your sensitive feelings, ripping you into pieces which couldn’t get reassembled. Each visit to this place unleashed a torrent of self-loathing within you. For some reason you despised your incompetence to simply please them, though deep down you knew very well it wasn’t your fault.

Walking toward your boyfriend's waiting car, you felt a profound sense of self-reproach, an overwhelming sense of foolishness. You felt so stupid because Dean had told you the encounter with your parents won’t turn out as you imagined. Despite your better judgment, you knew Dean would never be so heartless as to berate you. But your anxiety had cast a deep, imprisoning shadow over your inner self.

The journey back home was accompanied by a heavy silence, and it was clear that you were still grappling with the emotional aftermath of your visit to your parents. Dean, ever observant, couldn't help but notice the tears that still lingered in your eyes, glistening with unshed emotions. He didn’t want to make you speak up as he had seen how that place had the power to unravel your self-esteem before. He quickly decided his warm hands might comfort you and give you some secureness.

Gently, he reached out and rested his hand on your thigh - the touch reassuring and warm.

"Baby," he began softly, his voice sounding comforting. "I know it was tough in there but remember, you're not alone in this. I don’t support your parent’s actions."

You turned your head to meet Dean's gaze, his green eyes filled with a depth of understanding and empathy. Where as your childhood had been cold, icy and an ever lasting winter, Dean made your adulthood a friendly summer, warming you up every time you freeze.

“I don't know why I keep hoping for something different each time I go back there. It's like I can't help but wish for their love and approval, even though I know it's never going to happen. I’m so stupid,” you said, “so stupid for thinking I belong there.”

Your boyfriend pulled into the driveway of a parking lot, slowly stopping the car. His strong arms quickly wrapped you in his loving embrace. He took you close, fumbling with your hair.

“That’s right. You don’t belong there. Instead you belong to me and Sam,” he reassured you, whispering those comforting words. “See, you're strong and you're worth so much more than their shit judgment. I love you."

A single tear slid down your cheek. Dean, who noticed you sniffles, reached out to wipe it away with his thumb. His touch was tender and a further physical reminder that you weren't alone in this emotional battle.

“Let’s get home and we’ll take a hot bath, okay?”

You nodded, slowly letting go of Dean and curling yourself up in the passenger seat. As you continued down the road, Dean reached over and turned the volume slowly up. Melodic tunes filled the car, wrapping you both in their warmth and distracting you from the emotional bargain.

Suddenly, Dean's voice joined in, singing along with the lyrics in a soothing baritone. He glanced at you with a playful grin, inviting you to join in. You couldn’t resist but chuckle at his sweet yet goofy behavior. After the song ended, Dean turned the volume down and low hum of the engine filled the car again. He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His voice soothed you, "We're a team, and we'll face whatever comes together."

With Dean by your side, you knew that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had a steadfast source of strength and support.

Dean was your very own summer.

You loved his warmth.

You loved him.

#supernatural dean #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn #spnfandom

[milkb0nny]

me, staring at the same blank document for 5+ hours: writing is my passion✨🔥🗣️🔥✨🔥🗣️

[milkb0nny]

Burgundy Leaves

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 3: Leaves Changing

Summary: You and your little sister decided to take a stroll through the forest to collect the colorful leaves of autumn. While you both ate some freshly made buns and played catch, you accidentally bumped into Ivar.

Note: Okay... I'm fangirling. This one kinda hit me a little harder than it should. It's so wholesome.

Warnings: none

word count: 999

With the arrival of the cooler season autumn, the leaves slowly turned from a bright green to a sensation of colors. The dense, towering trees of the forest beckoned, their leaves glowing with the fiery hues of autumn. It was a world of vibrant reds, golds and oranges - a symphony of colors that enchanted your senses. This was the kind of season where you felt most alive, and the beauty of the forest had always been your refuge.

Whenever the temperatures dropped the people in Kattegat knew to prepare for winter, equipping themselves with wood, blankets and a food storage. Although the colder season might not be everyone’s favorite, you quite liked it. You had a younger sister, named Ingrid, who also waited for autumn every single year. Therefore, the day you noticed the significant change in the leaves, you took her by her hand and dragged her into the town of Kattegat. Before you made your way into the forest, you stopped by a small stall. You knew the owner of the shop quite well because you had been buying freshly baked buns every other day. After putting the still steaming baking goods in your picnic basket, you and your sibling started your journey.

While you entered the nearby forest, the sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor. The rustle of leaves beneath your feet and the chorus provided a soothing function.

Your sister ran free, catching falling leaves, collecting the most beautiful artworks by nature and eating snacks out of the picnic basket here and there. A bright smile covered your lips while you watched Ingrid being a happy child.

“Can we play catch, y/n?” She asked you, her eyes flickering in hope.

You answered, “Sure, I’ll count to ten and then I’ll come get you!”

The loud giggles emerged from your younger sister, as her feet made their way through the familiar collection of trees. Shortly after you reached the number ten, you began to run after her.

Suddenly, you trip over a thick branch as you ran around the corner. Though, your lovable face did not hit the hard ground.

With a soft gasp, you stumbled backward as you made contact with Ivar's firm, armored chest. The surprise was mirrored in his cobalt blue eyes as you looked up, a sudden rush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

“Y/n!” Ingrid screamed, speeding back to you immediately. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You shook your head, smiling awkwardly.

“I'm so sorry," you stammered, glancing at the tall man, your voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't see you coming. Are you alright, Ivar?"

You felt his icy eyes inspecting every single inch of you, thus made you flush. In all secrecy you owned a soft spot for Ivar. Of course you weren’t in a very deep relationship, but from time to time you helped him, accompanied him or cooked him dinner, whenever he didn’t want to eat with his own family.

“It appears we were both lost in our own little worlds," he replied, smiling softly.

Your sister, confused about the romantic tension between the both of you, distracted herself with collecting more leaves. Ivar studied Ingrid for a moment, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his lips.

“You are collecting leaves? A simple yet beautiful pursuit." Ivar grinned at your sister, who picked out a beautiful red maple leaf. She turned around and gifted it to Ivar, expressing her appreciation. Your heart warmed up at that sight, since he was so gentle with your little sister.

Ingrid’s high voice chimed in with enthusiasm, "Would you like to join us, Ivar? I’ll make you your own crown out of red leaves!"

Ivar, usually not so fond of children, appreciated your little sister a lot. She was honest and kind, unlike many other kids who lived in Kattegat. On top of that, the Viking loved one particular person who was linked to Ingrid - you.

Ivar considered the offer for a moment before a playful glint entered his eyes.

"Very well, little Lady. I shall accompany you,” he accepted, watching her happily run off to guide Ivar and you.

As you continued to explore the forest together, you couldn't help but be captivated by Ivar's presence. Since he had learned how to walk with his crutches, his tall body always surprised you. You liked him, crawling or walking, it didn’t matter to you.

You and Ingrid led the way to the most unique spots in the forest, where the trees cast long and the colors of autumn were most resplendent. Ingrid collected leaves of rich burgundy, while you gathered those of gold and orange. Ivar watched the scene with a hint of awe in his eyes. Ivar's gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The connection between you deepened - you felt like you were the only two souls in the whole forest. Ingrid, ever the perceptive one, excused herself to give the two of you some privacy.

Ivar leaned closer, his presence filling your senses as he whispered, "Y/n, there’s something immaculate about you. I hope we won’t grow apart."

Red hues rushed over your cheeks, your fingers fidgeted with the fur of your coat and you unconsciously bit the skin of your bottom lip while you let his words swallow you whole. You barely could form a sentence under the embarrassment.

“Ivar, no. I apologize, I mean, I’ll always accompany you. Wherever you go,” you stuttered slightly, staring into the blue, vibrant eyes which formed a perfect contrast with the orange hues of autumn. As the forest whispered its melody and the leaves rustled, Ivar closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. His lips molded perfectly against yours, igniting passion that had smoldered beneath the surface.

A kiss you never forgot - your first one under the rain of changing leaves.

#ivar x reader #ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings x you #vikings x reader #ivar x you #vikings

[milkb0nny]

Sweater Weather

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 2: Sweater Weather

Summary: You finally had the chance to meet the Winchester brothers again after weeks. Due to their hunting lifestyle you hadn't caught the chance to unite with them the past days. Today you accepted the invite of Dean, agreeing to have some drinks with them. Unfortunately you assessed the weather wrong, leaving you freezing in the cold night air.

Note: I went way over my anticipated word count for this one. Somehow my hands were writing faster than I realized. Anyway, fun with this wholesome prompt!

Warnings: none

word count: 1.203

The past few days the hot summer vanished into cooler mornings and fresh breezes of wind. The temperature gradually dropped, signaling the end of the season where shorts and crop tops had been the norm. While many expressed a sense of melancholy as summer waned, you couldn't help but revel in the changing weather.

This year's summer had been exceptionally long and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the arrival of the rainy season. Since July, you had been yearning for the perfect opportunity to sit on the wide windowsill with a steaming cup of tea, a cozy blanket draped over your shoulders. Finally, the time had come to count raindrops as they raced down the glass and to admire the beauty of autumn.

This morning Dean had invited you over to go drinking in the evening with Sam, on which you readily agreed on. Time spent with the Winchester brothers was precious to you, and you held a special fondness for shared moments with Sam. The tall, enigmatic brunette had held your admiration for some time now. Still, you never had the courage to confess to him, or even hint your attraction.

You were well aware of the fact that they were hunters, a life fraught with danger and uncertainty. Dean had shared with you the painful memory of Sam’s late girlfriend, an experience that had left deep scars on his heart. You refused to stir negative emotions, putting your needs back and loving him from a safe distance. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why you found the cooler seasons so appealing—the longing for warmth and the comfort of an embrace.

As you prepared to meet the Winchesters, you took a moment to check the weather one last time. The weather report had stated that today would be surprisingly warm compared to the days before. Therefore you decided on wearing your favorite pants, combined with a fitting shirt and a thin jacket. In case it would rain the jacket could protect you.

The moment you put your keys into your small backpack, you heard the humming engine of the Impala in front of your home. A flutter of nervous excitement coursed through you, causing a subtle flush to color your cheeks. You would see Sam again after weeks of not seeing each other.

Despite the slight outbreak of sweat, something you were likely the only one to notice, you got overran by happiness when you witnessed the smiling faces of the Winchesters. Eager to be reunited with Sam, you slid into the backseat of the Impala, the door closing with a gentle thud.

The Impala's iconic black exterior and the familiar scent of leather and old books enveloped you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you.

Sam turned his head around, trying to get a pleasant look at you. He said, “Hey y/n. It's been too long. We missed having you around.”

Dean agreed with his brother, repeating that they’ve missed your dearly appreciated company.

Your heart jumped and a bright smile spread over your shy face.

“I missed you guys too. It's good to be back,” you admitted.

The ride was over after five minutes and Dean parked in front of a typical bar. When the three of you entered the heavy smell of alcohol sneaked into your noses. A smell which reminded you of the brothers, a smell you hadn’t liked until you met them.

The evening unfolded in a delightful blur of shared stories and laughter, the comfortable ambiance of the bar enveloping you all. Drinks were poured and clinked together in unison, a ritual that signaled the beginning of an exciting evening. The hours passed in a whirlwind, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the warmth of the Winchester brothers' friendship and the deep sense of belonging you had found in their company.

As the night slowly drew to a close, you left the bar with a heart full of cherished memories and a bond that had only grown stronger. The crisp coldness of the night breeze hit you, sending a shiver down your back. Sam, who cautiously watched you, noticed your discomfort immediately.

“It's gotten a lot colder than I expected," he remarked, his breath forming a slight misty cloud in the chilly night air.

You agreed, looking up to him, “Yeah, I’m freezing.”

You didn’t want to indicate something, though it sounded exactly like it. A firm kick in the shoulders from Dean’s side reminded you of your sometimes oblivious behavior. You gazed back to Sam, who apparently didn’t notice the tease of his older brother. Relieved, you continued your short walk to the Impala.

However, Sam started to shrug out of his big sweater, a worn and comfortable garment that held the faint scent of his cologne and the warmth of his presence.

"Here, take this," he offered.

His brother didn’t want to partake in your romantic interaction, leaving the both of you behind and starting the engine to warm himself up. Sam’s eyes remained fixated on you.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience him, but the cold was undeniable. Therefore, you gratefully accepted the offered sweater.

As you slid your arms into the soft fabric, you couldn't help but notice the subtle fragrance that clung to it - Sam's familiar scent, a mixture of the outdoors and a hint of his cologne. It was a scent that felt like home, like safety, like Sam. You pulled the sweater closer around you, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided.

"Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it,” you thanked him.

Sam thought you looked adorable in his clothes, though he didn’t admit that right away. His dreamy eyes, glued onto your silhouette, expressed his thoughts already. He surely did notice your reddened face, and he absolutely acknowledged your awkward fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweater. You looked cute, so cute Sam wanted to pick you up and lay in bed with you all day.

Nevertheless none of you broke the silence and you began to continue your way once again. At one point, as you walked close together, Sam's fingers brushed against yours. It was a small, subtle touch, but it caused an explosion in your head. You stole a glance at him, and your eyes met for a fleeting moment. There was a depth of emotion in Sam's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you and him.

He suddenly stopped, resulting in you turning around. Still clung on the sweater, your curious eyes met his more serious face, or rather passionate. Before you could say a word, he placed his big hands on your cheeks, cupping them.

Without hesitation a kiss traced your lips, morphing the feelings of the two of you. You felt the hotness rush through your whole body, making you blush heavily. Your freezing body warmed up the moment his gentle lips met yours. Sam pulled away, though still remained so close you could feel his breath and his palms remained on your cold skin.

“Perhaps it's time we make our way back to Dean, Y/n. What do you say?”

#sam x reader #supernatural sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x you #spn fanfic #comfortember #supernatural

[milkb0nny]

Hello lovely.xx I looked around your page and I saw that your request are open. I was wondering if you are open to write something about Halfdan from the series Vikings⚔️. I love the jealous headcanons and some fluffy end maybe but will be happy with absolutely anything that you might get inspiration for. ( If he is not someone you see yourself writing for it’s absolutely fine)

sending hugs and kisses x❤️♥️

Halfdan's Jealousy Headcanons

Halfdan Hálfdansson x gn!reader

Summary: Halfdan's jealousy and fluffy headcanons.

Note: It’s refreshing seeing people appreciating Halfdan. Personally I love him dearly, so thank you for this lovely request. Take care, I hope you like this one (there are way too less Halfdan Gifs out there). 🤍

Warnings: jealousy, distrust, mentions of sexual engagement (not much)

🤎 Halfdan had never anticipated the abundance of affection that would come his way. While he disguised the unhealthy obsession with love of his brother, he secretly desired an honest partner. So when you two finally admitted your shared appreciation for the other, Halfdan was more than grateful for your adoration. Your love was an unexpected but most welcome gift in his life, a beacon of warmth and affection.

🤎 Halfdan's jealousy often stems from his intense desire to protect his loved one. During his lifetime he always protected others, causing him to act before anything could happen. He can't help but feel threatened by others who may pose a potential danger or take your attention away. He becomes particularly suspicious when there are new admirers or allies around.

🤎 While Halfdan appears confident, fearless and strong, he has his moments of insecurity. Getting overshadowed by his brother most of his life only awakened insecure traits. He worries that he might not be good enough for your love, or that you perhaps find someone more suitable. Whenever he watches your conversation with a far more attractive man than Halfdan, he feels defeated.

🤎 Though his insecurities don‘t hold him back. He engages in friendly competition to prove his worth and claim his loved one's attention. Putting his steady arm around your waist, showing up behind your figure or simply grabbing your hand after approaching are his weapons of jealousy. This competitive streak is a way for him to assert his dominance and protect what's his. After all, you’re his beloved, not someone else’s muse.

🤎 Halfdan doesn’t openly admit it, but he is quite possessive when it comes to you. He doesn't appreciate others encroaching on what he considers his territory. Of course he doesn’t view you as an object he possesses, but you’re his significant other - which is why you belong to him only. He subtly marks you when he feels the need to reclaim you, whether it's through physical affection, possessive glances, or subtly leaving hickeys during your intimate moments.

🤎 Sometimes he's jealous but doesn't want to reveal it, due to you having fun and him being in a pleasant mood. Halfdan resorts to watching from a distance. He'll observe you carefully interacting with others and try to gauge the nature of those interactions. This can lead to moments of silent brooding.

🤎 After an evening where his jealousy grew due to you playing drinking games with some men, he will be upfront about it. Halfdan refuses to act childish, especially with you. He saw more than once how miscommunication results in only destruction. Therefore the Viking will approach you openly, expressing his concerns and jealousy. You’re more than thankful for his honesty, as it was a quality many men lacked.

🤎 Some days he won‘t tell you as he does trust your loyalty. Halfdan will only show you more need for affection. He needs to see if you’ll still stay by his side. This leads to actions like seeking for kisses, holding you close, cuddling and going out together.

🤎 On other occasions he puts his foot down, scaring the men who tried to pull you away, taking you by your hand and leaving the event as soon as possible. In times where his insecurities terribly kick in, he seeks for a silent moment, away from all the crowds. You accompany him, knowing how he must’ve felt and little by little his jealousy and worries vanish.

🤎 Nevertheless, Halfdan isn’t the type to fight someone due to jealousy and he isn’t that jealous either. He’s possessive, yes, but in a matter that doesn‘t harm you, your relationship or anyone else. You’re glad you’re dating a mature man who stands to his feelings but doesn‘t need to prove them through violence.

#vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings #halfdan #halfdan x reader #halfdan x you #vikings halfdan

[milkb0nny]

Safe with Me

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 1: Safe

Summary: After a traumatizing hunt you still suffered under the panic and fear it had caused. You tried to distract yourself and cope with it, though you were unsuccessful. Luckily, Sam Winchester came to your rescue.

Note: First day of Comfortember is done! I love writing comforting and soothing stories. It heals my inner child. :)

Warnings: the usual supernatural violence, feeling unsafe, werewolves

word count: 944

Your tired eyes gazed out of the car window, trying to distract yourself with the scenery around you. The road stretched on endlessly, forcing you to think about the past few hours. The hum of the engine provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts, and you couldn't help but be grateful for the relative calm after the tumultuous hunt you had just experienced.

This particular case had been a stark reminder of how fragile human life could be, and how easily it could be crushed under the weight of the supernatural.

None of you were in the mood for a conversation, and the weight of the recent events bore heavily upon your shoulders, especially you suffered most under it. Sam's worried expression spoke volumes, a reflection of the pain that gnawed at your collective conscience. Dean's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white against the smooth leather.

The aftermath of this week's hunt had left you all reeling, each of you dealing with the darkness you had encountered.

°°°

At first, the three of you had been cautiously optimistic about the hunt. It was a case of werewolves, a familiar task in your line of work. The case had been pretty much the usual procedure and didn’t cost as many lives as other hunts. After all, you had dealt with werewolves many times before, and they were a predictable menace, something that even made it onto your monthly schedule.

However, the sight of a child, a little boy, ripping his own mother apart, had been gruesome. The carnage, the sheer lack of control, had shaken you to your core. When families uncontrollably destroyed themselves, your heart always ached terribly. Perhaps it was so irritating because you had no close connection to your bloodline, even though you desired one, or only the fact of another tragic death. Yet, it wasn't just the grisly scene that had left you profoundly disturbed.

The true source of your distress had been the terrifying risk you had faced during this hunt. The little boy, under the influence of werewolf force, had abruptly lunged at you, his small frame filled with unnatural strength. Sam and Dean, fueled by fear for your life, had fought desperately to pry him away from you. Though the child's mere strength had sent them crashing into the walls.

Each moment felt like an eternity as you struggled to ward off the terrifying creature. Still, you weren’t angry with the situation as it was only a child. You had been overwhelmed by a swell of panic as you had realized the danger you were in, caught between the jaws of a relentless werewolf. Your heart had pounded as you searched frantically for an escape route.

Just as the situation had seemed hopeless, a deafening gunshot rang out, shattering the tense silence. The child's head had snapped back, and his body had crumpled to the ground. Sam Winchester stood there with his trusty shotgun in hand. The silver bullets he had used against supernatural threats had taken down the werewolf with deadly accuracy.

°°°

The Impala finally stopped in front of your shared motel room and you felt a rush of relief. You, Sam and Dean retreated to your motel room, which was a lot more comfortable than other rooms you had to sleep in. You were the first to throw your duffel bag onto your bed and vanish into the shower.

Sam and Dean could see the sheer fear etched in your face, the haunted look in your eyes. They knew that the hunt had shaken you to your core.

You took a hot shower, stood under the warm rain for more than twenty minutes before you decided to face the brothers. Long showers were your usual coping mechanism, but it couldn't fully recover your mental stability this day. You still felt the werewolf’s claws on your shoulders, resulting in your feeling of insecurity. When the physical memory overcame you, you quickly rubbed your skin dry, clothed yourself and exited the bathroom.

Dean brushed against you while he entered the bathroom, his face still gloomy. You looked back, feeling guilty of being a burden to the Winchester brothers.

Sam mustered you up and down, still sensing your discomfort. He approached you slowly, trying not to scare you, and dragged you into a soft, warm hug. His arms covered your shoulders and held you tight onto his warm chest. Sam hoped he could regenerate the feeling of security.

His soft voice suppressed the negative thoughts in your mind, “Hey, we're safe now. That's what matters most."

You slightly nodded.

Sam let you go, releasing you from his comforting warmth. You sat down on your bed, rubbing your tired eyes and sighing. The Winchester remained before you, crouching down on his knees and placing his gentle hands on your knees. An expression of concern covered his face.

“We've all been through frightening hunts, y/n. It’s okay to be shaken and scared,” Sam drew circles on your skin, “but we have each other to lean on. And you, you're not alone in this."

His words touched the right spot, exactly the place where it hurt most. A tear dropped down your rosy cheek, splashing on Sam’s hand. He wiped it away, then caressing your face to dry your tears down. You didn’t know why you suddenly cried so much, but you did.

Sam's arms wrapped around your figure in a warm and comforting embrace, allowing you to lean into his strength.

"It's okay, sweetheart, let it out," he murmured, his soothing voice vaporized your worries. Sam held you, offering you a safe haven.

"You're safe with me."

#sam x reader #supernatural sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic

[milkb0nny]

××× Soft Spoken ×××

Dean Winchester x fem!nephilim (OC)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Summary: Sam discovered an unusual store in the city, dragging Dean along him. The shop possessed various books on demons, angels and other supernatural creatures. Sam decided to stay for a moment to search for further information on nephilim. Meanwhile, a woman entered the store, searching for protective sigils and spells. Dean quickly noticed that the voice sounded familiar. Again, the Winchester brothers met the nephilim and her identity crackled little by little.

Note: The next chapter will be more intriguing, as Castiel and Nevaeh will finally meet. I still enjoyed writing this one, covering the relationship between the brothers a little more.

Warnings: none

word count: 2.422

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, Sam stirred from his slumber to find the motel room devoid of his older brother. Panic momentarily gripped him as he feared that Dean might have been abducted during the night.

However, the sight of a note left on Dean's bed eased his concerns. It appeared that Dean had already left for the repair shop, which did nothing to assuage Sam's reservations about his brother's well-being. Still, Dean was ambiguous and the two of them had to get closer to the current events taking place in this city.

After a swift, warm shower, Sam dressed in his casual attire, donning a brown leather jacket to shield him from the morning chill. As he stepped outside into the crisp morning air, with the sun casting a warm glow, for a moment, he felt like an ordinary man embarking on a typical day. But the door he exited led to a motel room, and his destination was his hunting-obsessed brother. Sighing, he made his way.

The repair shop wasn’t that far from their place, only about ten minutes walking. During his leisurely stroll, Sam recalled the complexities of tracking a celestial being in a city where demons seemed to be the primary source of supernatural disturbances. He was unable to think of another cause of supernatural events, as no ghosts, shapeshifters or witches harmed anybody here.

Upon arriving at the repair shop, Sam found Dean already toiling away on the Impala, refusing assistance from the shop's employees.

Dean's attachment to the car was almost childlike, as if he needed to mend it with his own hands.

While Sam greeted the workers with a much more pleasant demeanor, his brother's irritable side was more apparent.

“Morning, Sammy,” Dean huffed as he heaved the broken engine hood aside. He handled it with care but couldn't hide the pain he felt when seeing his treasured Impala in such a state.

“Good morning,” Sam replied, his gaze filled with concern as he observed Dean's tireless work. “Dean, you know you’re injured, right? Don’t you want to rest a little?” he asked him, worried about his brother's well-being.

Sam's pleas, however, seemed to fall on deaf ears. Dean, his face etched with determination and exhaustion, was quick to respond. “Sam, we don't have time to rest. This car's our lifeline, and we can't afford any downtime,” he insisted, highlighting the urgency of their situation.

While Dean was right about time running fast, he forgot that the injuries might worsen if he keeps up being so stubborn. Sam wanted to complain about this annoying personality trait of his brother, but that opportunity was denied.

Just as Dean was emphasizing the importance of their task, a deep, raspy voice interjected. A rather short yet robust man approached the brothers, his black hat and oil-stained clothes giving away his connection to the repair shop. However, it soon became evident that he was more than just an employee.

“Are you Sam?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

“Uh, yes, I am,” Sam responded with a hint of confusion. He mustered the man up and down, thinking, he was merely an employee of this garage. To his surprise, the stranger revealed himself as the owner of the shop.

“I’d give you and your brother some time here, to get your car fixed. Since you’re friends with Nev, I’ll charge you less. You’re free to use our tools but don’t break them. That'd be expensive,” he cautioned, while fumbling with his car keys.

Sam's inquisitive eyes landed on the man's name tag, which read 'Joshua Garden'—a typically American name.

“Thank you very much,” Sam smiled at him, genuinely grateful for the assistance.

Joshua grinned, inspecting the Impala. The labor of love and devotion that Dean had poured into the car did not go unnoticed by the shop owner. Though he didn't seem too keen on joining their conversation, his offer of help was warmly received. Dean was absorbed in his work, his hands and thoughts fully engaged in fixing their beloved car.

While Joshua inquired about how the car had ended up in such a dire state, Sam quickly crafted a plausible explanation. He mentioned a collision with a tree, caused by a random man who had jumped in front of their car. Joshua, perhaps sensing the awkwardness of the situation, chose not to delve deeper into the matter, accepting Sam's account as fact.

With the pleasantries concluded, Joshua excused himself, leaving the Winchester brothers alone for the time being. Sam took a seat on some nearby wheels, his eyes wandering aimlessly over the shops and houses on the other side of the street.

His eyes wandered through the various faces sitting in the cozy cafés, examined the various signs across doors and windows: Holly's Book Store, 24/7 Nightclub, Occult Shop, Betty's Flower Shop. His attention was abruptly seized by a tiny sign hanging from a dark wooden door. An Occult Shop? The existence of such a store in this seemingly ordinary city piqued his curiosity.

“Dean, do you see that shop there, next to the restaurant?”

Raising his head, Dean scanned the area until he spotted the shop his brother had mentioned. The small store appeared as bewildering to Dean as it did to Sam.

Nevertheless, whenever the two hunters stumbled upon such unique shops, they took the time to explore them in the hope of finding new information about supernatural creatures. Sometimes their visits yielded valuable knowledge and weapons against specific monsters, while other times they discovered nothing more than tourist traps.

Dean set aside his tools when his brother proposed taking a stroll through the shop. Although Dean wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, he agreed, acknowledging that his primary job was hunting monsters, not repairing cars. Perhaps they could use some assistance from the shop's employees.

“Yeah, I’ll take a break,” Dean conceded, and indicating that they should visit the shop owner. The brothers crossed the fairly busy street and entered the store through its old, creaky wooden door

The interior featured old shelves lined with books, offering a wealth of knowledge about witchcraft, the history of magic, crystals, and emanating a distinct, earthy scent. The shop owner, an elderly man who resembled a kindly college history professor, seemed to blend seamlessly with the ambiance of the store as if he had spent his entire life there. His friendly face welcomed the brothers but didn't immediately overwhelm them with his knowledge. Sam got the impression that the shop owner simply enjoyed the quiet appreciation of his wares, and the brothers followed suit.

Both stood behind a tall shelf filled with several books about demons and angels. Sam discovered a book detailing the history of archangels, covering aspects from the Bible and other religions, which he hoped might contain valuable information.

Suddenly, the door opened once more, and a soft chime echoed through the shop.

“Excuse me. Do you perhaps have any information on protective sigils and symbols against demons or angels? I've been…,” a soft voice hesitated, a voice familiar to the Winchester brothers, “researching some things again, and I could use some guidance.”

Dean surreptitiously peered around the corner, confirming his suspicions: the gentle voice belonged to Nevaeh, who was attired in her usual elegant fashion, albeit slightly more comfortable than her typical style.

“Welcome Nevaeh. I believe I have something that interests you, my dear. You might find what you're looking for in this ancient grimoire over here. It contains knowledge of various protective sigils and their applications.” he pointed to a thick, black book nestled in the far corner of the shop.

Nevaeh nodded appreciatively and replied, “Thank you so much.”

She reached for the book and began flipping through its delicate pages. Most of the sigils were already familiar to her, given her meticulous study. However, she wondered if there were new methods of protection she had yet to discover.

Dean, who had overheard the brief exchange, leaned over to Sam, who was deeply engrossed in the book, oblivious to the unfolding situation.

“Sam, did you hear that? Nevaeh’s asking about protective symbols. That's gotta be related to the nephilim,” he expressed quietly, gaining Sam’s attention.

“Yeah, uhm, alright. Then let's see what she knows,” Sam replied calmly.

He closed the book and placed it back in its original spot. Scanning the shop, he found Nevaeh sitting in an old chair, reading various pages. Dean, with a quiet admiration, approached her first.

“Hey there,” he greeted her, offering a friendly tone. Her serious expression gave way to a welcoming one, her hazel eyes now fully focused on the Winchesters.

“Oh, I didn’t expect to meet you here,” she said somewhat shyly, a bit intimidated by their presence. Nevaeh couldn't help but notice that whenever she encountered the brothers, something supernatural always seemed to be afoot. And here they were once more, in an Occult Shop.

Sam noticed her hesitation, trying to break her social resistance a little, “We overheard your question about protective sigils. We've been looking into something related to that as well,” Sam gently explained.

Nevaeh, still somewhat taken aback, inquired, “Oh, uh - So you’re saying that you’re actually into this stuff? That’s unusual. What are you looking for?”

Sam glanced back at Dean, who nodded his approval to share the true purpose of their presence in Rock Springs. While the Winchesters typically kept their hunting endeavors a secret from civilians, they believed Nevaeh could hold the key they needed.

Sam answered, “We're researching some supernatural occurrences here like unexplained events, strange symbols, that sort of thing.”

Dean chimed in, stepping a little away to create space for Nevaeh to feel comfortable in. In all honesty, the woman looked slightly frightened.

“We noticed that there is a lot of demonic activities happening here… And to be honest, this is kinda how we got into this accident yesterday.”

Nevaeh nodded, slowly closing the book and cradling it in her lap. She nervously adjusted her posture. “Wow uhm, so you’re hunters? That explains a lot.”

Sam expressed his genuine guilt,“I’m sorry we kinda lied to you, Nevaeh.”

She offered an awkward smile and replied, “No, no. I get it, it’s just not something… everyone does.”

Although Nevaeh appeared outwardly calm and composed, underneath her poised demeanor, she was in turmoil. She was silently screaming inside her own mind.

Nevaeh had unwillingly stumbled into an unfortunate situation, dealing with hunters whose prey was the very same demons she had been fleeing. Her emotions raced, and she felt lost, trapped in a sea of confusion. She questioned herself, wondering why she couldn't escape from the grip of these supernatural happenings. While she had distanced herself from her father, she couldn't help but contemplate whether he had motives other than exploiting her unique abilities. Maybe her father also loved his daughter and not only God.

“So, what do you want from me again?” She asked again.

Dean smiled, attempting to build a semblance of trust between them. “Is there any chance you know stuff about… a nephilim?

Nevaeh raised her eyebrows and averted her gaze, unsure about revealing her knowledge or her true nature, “Are you hunting one?”

“No, no—,” Sam interjected, seeking to clarify, “We’re trying to track it down, as it attracts so many demons. You know, before anyone dies because of the demons.”

A critical expression laced over her face, “Sure, but what should a nephilim do about that? It doesn’t need demons to guide over them or something. Such a creature is powerful,” she responded, growing increasingly annoyed as she indirectly referred to herself. She resented addressing her own kind as "it," feeling dehumanized and isolated.

“We don't fully understand the connection between demons and nephilim,” Sam clarified, but his explanation only seemed to heighten Nevaeh's suspicion. Her body language became defensive, signaling her growing discomfort.

“Let’s say you do catch it, then what?” she pressed.

Dean, sensing the urgency of their mission, cleared his throat and answered, “Well, we happen to be acquainted with an angel-“

Sam interjected, giving Dean a stern look, "You can't just tell her!"

“Yes, I can. you know how crucial this is,” Dean’s gaze headed back to the striking eyes of Nevaeh, who fumbled with her fingernails, “Look, there's an angel who is currently in a conflict with Heaven. Lucifer has been set free and is possibly attempting to exterminate humankind. We don't want to harm the nephilim, but we're hoping it can assist us in putting Lucifer back in his cage.”

With the brief yet informative explanation, Nevaeh visibly relaxed and gestured that she was ready to leave. The two men followed her, and as they walked back to the repair shop, a heavy silence enveloped them.

Nevaeh utilized this quiet interlude to ponder the brothers' request. She had no intention of revealing her true nature, as she held deep reservations about the Winchesters and their angelic ally, suspecting the angel might be deceptive.

However, she couldn't simply stand by and let her father unleash unspeakable horrors upon the world. The newfound information on the goals of Lucifer let her previous hope totally vanish, only bringing her rage to cook more.

Before they entered the garage, she stopped and turned to face the towering men, her expression one of distrust and concern.

“Okay. Then, you tell me all you know about Lucifer’s wrongdoings and I’ll research the nephilim for you, and I’ll accompany you both after your car was fixed. I have my personal reasons to help you,” she declared, making her intentions abundantly clear.

“Thank you so much, but you don’t have to come along,” Sam responded with a tone of care. Nevaeh shook her head firmly, her disagreement evident.

“Either this way or no way. Call me when you decided.” Her harsh voice said, before she entered the repair shop, only to pay the bills for the towing service and have a short chat with Joshua. Dean watched her silhouette as she went about her business.

He chuckled, his interest piqued, “I've got to admit, I'm intrigued. A woman who's not afraid to take charge? I'm all ears’.”

“Get a grip, Dean. Let's focus on fixing the car, and I'll take care of getting us some phones,” Sam suggested, breaking the somewhat odd atmosphere that lingered after their conversation.

The younger Winchester couldn’t help but question why Nevaeh was involved in all of this again and again. Though the answer still floated in the future.

#supernatural dean #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural sam #spn fanfic #spn