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octoberclidan · 5 months

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Her Boys

Request: hi:) can you do sam x reader x dean where reader lives with them and after hunts she usually falls asleep in the back of impala (sometimes with her head on castiel's lap) so sam and dean takes turns on carrying her to motel bed and giving forehead goodnight kiss (sam's turn in this fic ) and some nights after having nightmares she sneaks out to one of their bed (dean's in this fic)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader and Sam Winchester x Reader, a bit of Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

"Dean", Castiel's voice sounded from the back of the Impala. "I think you should turn your music down".

"What? Why?" Dean sounded almost offended by Cas' request. It was late, and they were driving to a motel after a successful hunt. It was dark out and raining, so Dean had turned his music up even louder than usually so it could be heard over the rain hitting the windshield and roof of his car. Sam turned around to look at Cas, and Cas looked down to his lap. Sam nodded and reached forward to turn the music down low, and swatted Dean's hand away when Dean tried to turn it back up.

"She's asleep", Sam whispered to him, and Dean glanced up into the rearview mirror, only finding Cas looking back at him. [Y/N] had a habit of falling asleep in the car after hunts. The boys could run on limited sleep, but she couldn't keep her energy up like them. She was sore from the hunt, having been pushed and thrown around a lot, and after running all over the place for hours, she was exhausted. She'd lasted about fifteen minutes in the car sitting up before she'd given in and leaned over to lie in Cas' lap. He had his hand resting on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it with his thumb, and she had one of her arms wrapped around herself, the other holding on to Cas' thigh.

The Impala was warm, and safe, and familiar. It smelled like a mixture of all three of her favourite people; the Winchesters and Cas. She hadn't even been with them all that long, just under a year, but they were her family, and they were her home. They'd all taken a likening to her from the moment they'd met, and they all had a soft spot for her. Dean thrived on taking care of people, and while Sam and Cas made that difficult for him sometimes, [Y/N] made it easy. She didn't complain when he was slightly overprotective of her on hunts, and she never refused his help when he offered it. She satisfied the nurturing need he had, though he'd never admit it. Sam had been looked out for and taken care of his whole life by Dean, and whenever he tried to return the favour, Dean wouldn't let him. [Y/N] was never embarrassed by Sam looking out for her, she always valued his advice, and the fact that she so openly looked up to him made him feel important. She'd definitely had a warm and positive impact on the team dynamics, and they'd do whatever they could to make her want to stay with them.

The rumble of the car's engine was muffled by having her ear pressed against Cas' lap, but she began to stir when the rain got heavier. Cas quickly pulled his hand off her shoulder and lay it gently on her other ear to block out the noise, and her breathing deepened again. All three of them remained silent for the rest of the drive, and Cas only removed his hand from her ear when the rain stopped.

***

It was awhile later when Dean pulled into a motel that had a vacancy sign lit up, and while he got out to go get a room, Cas and Sam stayed in the car with [Y/N]. He was back a few minutes later with a key card, knocking lightly on the passenger window to let Sam know before opening up the trunk and grabbing their bags. Sam got out of the car and opened up the back door, where Cas carefully helped maneuver [Y/N] into Sam's arms. Sam had one arm under her knees and his other around her back, she fit perfectly into his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder as he straightened up and made sure he had a good grip on her. He looked down at her, she looked so peaceful and innocent, it was hard to think of the girl in his arms as the same person who he'd seen earlier shooting the monster they'd been hunting.

Cas held the door open for the boys as they walked into the motel room, before letting them know that he had a few things to check on in Heaven and would be back in the morning. Dean dropped the bags down onto one of the beds while Sam walked [Y/N] over to bed farthest from the door; the boys liked making sure that she was always in the safest place possible. He lay her down on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face as Dean dug through his bag to find one of his hoodies, one that he knew [Y/N] liked as it was thick and warm, and quite big on her. He walked over to Sam and nodded at him, letting him know he was ready to do something that the two of them had gotten used to doing on nights after hunts. Sam slowly lifted [Y/N] into a sitting position, holding her head against his chest to keep her comfortable. Dean unzipped her jacket and pulled it off her, leaving her t-shirt on. The two of them slid the hoodie onto her, pulling her arms through the sleeves and pulling it down over her. Sam then let her lie back down and smiled in thanks to Dean, letting him know that he could go get himself ready for bed.

While Dean was in the bathroom, Sam untied [Y/N]'s shoes and pulled them off. He then pulled the covers of the bed over her and tucked her in, making sure that none of the cool motel room air would disturb her. He watched as she snuggled into her pillow, smiling in her sleep. Sam wondered what she was dreaming about, and was looking forward to hearing about it in the morning over breakfast. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, a habit he'd picked up that he found soothed him. Being able to kiss her on the forehead and feel her warmth under his lips reminded him that she was alive, and she was safe, and protected.

***

Several hours passed when [Y/N] began to stir. Her good dream had slowly morphed into a nightmare, and she'd been experiencing a version of the hunt that had not gone as well as it had in reality. She breathed in sharply as her eyes shot open and she sat up, in darkness, momentarily not knowing where she was, until she smelled Dean's scent just under her chin. She grabbed the collar of the material and pulled it up to her nose, the smell instantly calming her. She smiled as she realised it was her favourite hoodie of his, and that the boys must have put her to bed. She turned her head to the side and let her eyes adjust, she could just about make out their silhouettes in the two beds beside hers. She pushed her covers back and let her legs hang over the side of the bed, the coolness of the air making her shiver slightly. She made sure to be quiet as she stood up, not wanting to interrupt their sleep, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after a nightmare on her own. She needed one of her boys.

Dean's bed was closest to hers, and he'd also left space beside him. She wasn't sure if that was intentional or not, but she took it as an invitation. She looked over to Sam to make sure he was okay, and smiled when he mumbled something in his sleep and then chuckled to himself. She owed a lot to the Winchesters, and to Cas too. They'd never told her that they loved her, and she'd never told them that she loved them either, but she didn't need verbal confirmation. She knew that she was loved, she could feel it in their actions every day. She carefully pulled back the covers on Dean's bed and slid in beside him, turning to face away from him and feel the heat of his body on her back. Only a minute later, she felt Dean's strong arm wrap around her waist and she was pulled against his chest. She felt his nose on the back of her neck as he breathed her in, and she felt his breath tickle her shoulder as he breathed out. There was no chance of her nightmare coming back that night as she drifted off in Dean's arms, knowing that even though she hunted monsters and demons, as long as she had her boys, she would be safe and sound.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

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spookyflavors · 6 months

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Sirentale - Chapter 01 (Part 01) Based on the various works by @llamagoddessofficial and @aka-indulgence

(Inspired by Undertale - Toby Fox) [X] [PART 02] [PART 03] [PART 04] [PART 05] [PART 06 - END]

If you like what I make, please consider sending me a Kofi sometime~

#Sirentale #siren!au #siren au #cecaelia sans #siren sanses #cw kidnapping #cw possessiveness #cw thalassophobia #undertale au #horrortale sans #sans x reader #sans x self insert #sans x oc #Sam the human

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hanasnx · 5 months

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MINORS DNI 18+

Your current boyfriend used to be the jock that shoved emo-freak SAM MONROE into lockers. And now Sam’s got you moaning his name while his skinny boy cock rearranges your insides. Who needs all that muscle when you’ve got a sleep-deprived pill-popping grunge cunt destroyer filling up the empty space in your bed? Is he doing this to get back at your soon-to-be-ex? No. He’s always loved you. Always wanted you. Looked after you in envy while you were with that air-headed football player. He’s only got the confidence to fuck you now though. He’ll worry about his future broken nose later. Currently, all that matters is getting you to squirt all over the mattress so his old bully comes home to soaked sheets that smell of sweet betrayal.

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nyxiswrites1200 · 4 months

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🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵

Sam Winchester x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present

"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"

AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.

----

Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.

When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.

Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.

Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.

Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.

In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.

Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".

Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.

The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.

"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".

Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.

Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.

Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...

He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.

He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.

Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.

Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.

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spinningspencer · 2 months

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☆Just thinking about Spencer Reid hugging you from behind and pressing his lips against your neck while you're cooking.

☆Thinking about Spencer Reid coming home from a long, difficult case just to curl up on the couch with you, his head against your chest, listening to your heartbeat to calm down.

☆Thinking about Spencer Reid reading a book with his arms around you, looking over your shoulder as you lay curled up in his lap, exhausted after a hard day.

☆Thinking about Spencer Reid and his cute mismatched socks in your shared closet.

☆Thinking about Spencer Reid holding your face gently, like it's the most precious thing in the world.

☆Thinking about Spencer Reid giving you a massage when you complain about your shoulders/neck/back/... hurting.

☆Thinking about Spencer Reid waking you up with soft, gentle kisses along whatever exposed skin he can find, your shoulders, your neck, your cheek, your back...

☆Just thinking about domestic Spencer Reid.

#spencer reid fluff #why cant he be real #my mind is on him 24/7 #i love him your honor #it's not a want it's a need #spencer reid #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #🥺🥺🥺#sam creates #sam writes

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rqgnarok · 10 months

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i can see you - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 6,082

warnings: SMUT, both implications and the actual act. no use of pronouns but reader is described with female anatomy.

summary: you and jamie have been watching each other for ages, trying not to feel the pull between you. a moment in the hallway changes everything.

author’s note at the end <3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie comes back to Richmond one cold, quiet morning.

Quiet, because his teammates refuse to talk to him even after he’s at the receiving end of the harshest glares Jamie’s ever seen. They prickle his skin and make him feel too small in his own body, but he juts his chin up and trots around the field following Ted’s instructions.

“He’s the worst,” Sam tells you one morning after the facts. You bought an extra coffee on your way in because Sam had spent the entire week clenching his teeth so tightly you could see it in his jaw. It had only taken you one nudge and he spilled his feelings out like a dam breaking. “He just makes me feel awful about myself. And even if he’s apologized, that doesn’t mean he’s changed. I know Ted believes in second chances and I do, too, but that man is incapable of improving. The only person he’s ever cared about is himself.”

You’re inclined to believe him just because of how dejected he sounds. So when Jamie Tartt comes by the PR office later looking for Keeley and finds you instead, the annoyance that overtakes his features only cements your bad image of him.

“Keeley ain’t in?”

“Just missed her,” you say, short and clipped, head bent to focus on your work. “She’s out for lunch, Roy’ll probably bring her back in an hour.”

Silence meets your words, and you look up to see him looking at you, seemingly lost in thought. “Is… there anything else I can help you with?”

He snaps out of it, eyes a little wide and mouth struggling to find the right words. He’s pretty, you allow yourself the thought before immediately filing it away from your mind. He’s an asshole, your brain supplies, and yeah, that’s much better.

“Sorry,” he says in that awful accent of his that’s in no way endearing. Not even a little bit. It doesn’t help that he looks actually apologetic, unsure, tugging at his shirt nervously. “We, um, haven’t met, have we? ‘m Jamie.”

“I know,” you say, not exactly kindly, but the whole world knows who he is. You’d have to be living in outer space to not be aware of Jamie Tartt’s existence. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jamie’s tentative smile turns bitter and he tucks his head down, embarrassed. “Ah. ‘Course. Yeah, no, I’m. ‘m sure you have.”

He sounds just like Sam had when telling you about Jamie’s torment and it tugs at your heart despite how you don’t want it to.

“Anyways, just,” he shrugs, trying to give you a sunny grin and failing only slightly. You almost respect his efforts. “Know you’ve been here a while and all but, uh. Welcome, anyways. Richmond’s a nice place to be.”

You sigh.

“You, too,” you say when he’s already at the door, surprising both of you with your sudden considerate candor. You shrug a little. “What you’re doing can’t be easy. It takes a lot of guts to come back here. I hope it’s worth it.”

“So do I,” he says before giving you one last smile, albeit a bit more genuine, and leaving your office.

After that, you’re both extremely aware of each other. It’s like the universe has decided to make sure you’re always in close vicinity, bumping each other in the hallways, arriving and leaving work at the same time, being paired up by Keeley for ad campaigns and photoshoots. You have the suspicion that Keeley’s been doing it on purpose– a good boss but a nosy friend, nevertheless, but it’s proven incorrect when she assures you don’t have to work with Jamie if you don’t want to.

“I know how he can be,” she says, eyes kind and hands on your shoulders, shaking you a little. “If he makes you uncomfortable in any way just say the word and I’ll take care of it, babes. I know how to handle him anyways.”

But you’re a grown woman. You can handle an asshole at the workplace, even if it comes in the beautiful package that is Jamie Tartt.

You can’t say you haven’t noticed him; his plump lips and smart mouth, defined arms covered in tattoos, hands that look like they know their way around the in-between of someone’s legs. You’re angry at him by your connection to the other boys but you’re not blind– and Jamie is a sight to behold.

He seems to know it, too, smirking at you whenever he catches your eye. He brushes by you in the hallway and you get a whiff of his cologne, sometimes a steady hand around your elbow when your steps stumble.

He murmurs a quiet alright, love? and you both move on with your day, your skin a little too warm and the imprints of his fingers tattooed on your skin until you get home.

You pay him back for those moments at random times. Once, during a photoshoot, you make a noise of frustration when the photographer insists that Jamie poses a certain way, dressed in his uniform as if he were about to jump into the pitch but looking a little too put together.

“It doesn’t feel genuine,” you explain, but you only receive blank, annoyed looks in response, so you take matters into your own hands and walk into the set, placing yourself in front of Jamie.

“Just-” you sigh, frustrated, and reach towards him before hesitating. He’s sitting down for the photo, and the sight of him looking up at you, his body between your legs does something you can’t bear to think about in a workplace environment. “May I?”

Jamie stutters, suddenly nervous. “I- sure. Go ‘head.”

You take off his hairband with a swift motion and tangle your fingers in his hair, messing it up. It’s soft and runs like water between your fingers, the smell of some fancy conditioner and hair product hitting your nose.

You dig your nails into his scalp a little too roughly, and before the apology sitting on your tongue can be said, Jamie’s shiver overtakes his body, a muffled sound being bitten back for you not to hear it, but you hear it anyways.

It makes you stop, just for a second, and your eyes meet. There’s something different in Jamie’s, greyish green darkening like you’re looking into the eye of the storm. The air is suddenly thick with tension, your hands still in his hair, his own twitching in his lap as if wanting to reach for–

Behind you, the photographer asks, “Are you done?”

You gulp and look away from Jamie, voice incredibly steady despite how dry your throat feels. “Almost.”

You hand him the hairband back and your fingers brush when he goes to take it. He exhales a gust of air, slowly, as if trying to avoid any suspicion of how badly the little touch is affecting him.

When it’s back on, you reach again to pull loose some strands of hair and your other hand holds him by the chin, keeping him still.

“There,” you say after a couple of moments or after an eternity. You let go of him and the room comes back into focus.

Jamie blinks as if he’d been having trouble thinking past the touch of your hands on him, oddly intimate. You move out of the way so the photographer can squint at whatever you did with his hair. “You see what I mean?”

The rest of the photoshoot is uneventful, but it becomes quite clear that whatever things you do to get into Jamie’s head work as efficiently to get into yours.

The team begins warming up to him after the whole Dubai Air debacle, and something inside of you unclenches in relief when you see Jamie sharing beer and laughter with the boys in the locker room after Sam’s press conference.

It feels like permission. The guilt you feel whenever you stare at Jamie a little too long suddenly dissipates, and you dare to bite your lip when he catches your eye across the room. His stare slips to your mouth before refocusing on his conversation, and the way he tugs at his collar and his cheeks flush makes you feel victorious despite the team’s loss tonight.

Later at Keeley’s, Roy nurses a beer while splayed out on the couch and asks you about Jamie. “Please tell me he’s done something stupid so I can punch him in the dick next time I see him.”

“You need an excuse for that?” you raise your eyebrows in question.

Roy grunts, but there’s hidden glee in his expression as he concedes your point. “Fair enough. He’s given you any trouble?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, I guess,” you shrug, but you make the mistake of hesitating before answering and Roy perks up like a dog who’s caught an intruder.

“Spill,” he orders, but you’ve been friends with both him and Keeley long enough to know rolling your eyes when he gets all manly is an appropriate response. “Come on, out with it. What he’d do?”

“Nothing!” you exclaim, throwing a pillow at him. He catches it swiftly, which annoys you a little. “Relax, old man. If he ever pulls a little too hard on my pigtails you’ll be the first to know.”

Roy grunts again, not satisfied but done pushing for the night.

The real trouble begins at Christmas, hours after the boys exchange gifts and most of the staff is sent home. You’re on your way out, coat on and Uber on the way when you run, once again, into Jamie in the hall, almost knocking both of you to the ground. He has to quickly hold onto your waist, your hands on his chest, to stop it.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you chastise him, both hating and loving the way he smirks at your breathlessness. “I thought you all troublemakers were gone already. You’ve got the rest of the day off, what are you still doing here?”

“Can’t go back to Manchester with a game tomorrow here, can I?” his hands tighten around your waist for a delicious, stretched-out moment before he lets you go. Jamie covers his flush coughing behind his hand as your own slip from his chest. “You lot just got me back after all. Can’t leave you hangin’ without your best player.”

“Ha, ha,” you laugh sarcastically, knowing he’s mostly kidding about that. “Still, I thought you’d be the first one home. Some Louis Vuitton slippers and Gucci robe on, expensive rum…”

“Oh, know me so well, do you,” he teases, poking at your bag. “What about you? You’re on your way out?”

“Uber’s almost here,” you show him your screen so he can see that your ride’s less than five minutes away. “Are you coming around to Higgin’s later?”

Jamie shrugs. “Don’t know if I’m invited.”

“Of course, you’re invited, Tartt. Everyone is.”

“Don’t know if I’m welcome, then,” he corrects.

“Everyone is,” you say again, firm but a little bit gentler than before. “Honestly, you’re lucky you look the way you do, ‘cause you’re a little bit thick.”

Jamie brightens like a kid on, well, Christmas. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course, that’s what you take from that,” you roll your eyes. “I gotta go, but I better see you there later.”

You point menacingly at him but he only steps forward until your finger’s touching his chest, towering over you with a smirk that screams trouble. “To give you your gift, you mean?”

“You did not get me something,” you say, as sure about it as you are that the sky is blue and dirt is brown. “Not when you dropped the ball with your Secret Santa earlier today.”

“Maybe I like you better,” he suggests, voice low and rich. The sound makes a knot of heat tighten in your belly. “Than I like them, you’ve ever thought about that?”

You remember what Sam told you when Jamie first came back, how he was incapable of thinking about anyone other than himself. The Mancunian had proved that statement to be incorrect a handful of times already, and you’ve been flirting with him long enough to know you’re attracted to him, but you don’t expect any kind of emotional reciprocation from him. Sure, you’re friendly, maybe you’ll call him your friend at one point, but that’s as far as it usually gets with someone like Jamie.

You didn’t even get him a present. That’s how close you two are.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” you relent. You really should be going, but a part of you needs to entertain this conversation for some reason. It’s not always that you get to talk to Jamie without anyone else present. “What could you have possibly gotten me that you couldn’t give your Secret Santa?”

You barely see the face he makes before you’re being kissed within an inch of your life. Right there in the hallway of AFC Richmond’s training headquarters, Jamie Tartt holds your face in his hands as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, warm and wet and relentless.

You open yourself up to him without thinking it through, your phone lost somewhere in the mess of limbs as you latch onto his shirt, desperate for balance.

The kiss is toe-curling hot, your arms wrapping around Jamie’s neck while his own flail a delicious path through your back, hands going under your coat so you feel his skin hot against your sweater.

He ends up with his arm tight around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close. Your mouths slide against each other, warm breaths trapped between your lips as the desperation for more grows and grows and grows and–

Jamie draws back and leans his forehead against yours only to kiss you again, softer and lingering while you’re still catching your breath, then one last kiss for good measure before finally drawing back. Like it happens around Jamie, the world you’d forgotten had existed outside the two of you comes back with rushing clarity, the hallway still miraculously empty.

“Somethin’ like that,” he says, and it takes you a moment to remember what you were talking about before this. Christmas, parties, gifts…

Jamie takes one last look at your face like he’s trying to commit you to memory while you’re all flushed and breathless before he lets you go, walking away into the locker room. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You stay there for a while after he goes, your fingers inevitably going to your kiss-bruised lips, brain still struggling to catch up to the moment.

Jamie kissed you. You kissed him back. You kissed each other like you weren’t at work and where anyone could walk by and see you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand. Your Uber’s outside and waiting.

You end up missing Higgin’s later that afternoon, unsure if Jamie would actually go after you bugged him about it and are terrified that he might.

You’re not avoiding him. For fuck’s sake, you’re a little too old for high school-level social skills, but you’re not sure your heart could take it if you see him so soon after your kiss, acting like nothing happened.

Or worse, making sure to sit next to you during dinner just so he could put his hand on your thigh and make you sweat while everyone’s watching, unaware of the change that’s just transpired in your relationship.

By the next day, you’ve decided to keep things professional, and it helps that Jamie doesn’t really bring it up. You see him before the game in the locker room when you go record some stories for the Instagram page, and he says hello as casually as the rest of the boys.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know were holding and wish them all the best for the game, though if it’s relief or disappointment that washes over you, you’re not sure.

Life moves on. You continue to work together, not sans stolen glances and running into each other in the hallway. It’s different now, because you both know the other remembers that Christmas kiss and accidentally touching when passing each other by makes your breath hitch and Jamie’s face flush.

The energy you had building up between you is charged with something dangerous now, and unless you dare to talk about it it’ll only build up into something you eventually won’t be able to ignore.

But fuck, do you think about it. About the way Jamie’s hands held you, how they kept you in your place and how they would pin you down if you ever were to end up in bed together, his hips driving home while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and accent thick with the heat of the moment.

Fuck. Fuck, you’re so fucking gone for him.

It’s also different because Roy comes back, and it’s like he just knows there’s something about Jamie that you’re not telling him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive.

“What was that… look?” he splutters. Never once in your life have you seen Roy Kent fucking splutter like he couldn’t get a grip on a situation.

“What look?” maybe you can gaslight your way out of this one, you hope, because Jamie had been less than subtle when coming up to you both in the parking lot and talking about needing your help for a sponsored post he was supposed to make.

He got real close, so near you could smell the mix of cologne, sweat, and plain Jamie that rested on his skin. While showing you his phone put a hand on the small of your back, fingers spread open and hot like a brand.

It’d stolen your breath for a second, a hitch in an exhale that had caught both Jamie’s and Roy’s attention. You eyed Jamie warningly but he only smirked, completely aware of what he was doing. You said something about tagging the sponsor and then he was gone, brilliant smile and thanks on his lips as he waved you goodbye.

“That look, all cheeky and shit,” Roy points at where Jamie used to be and looks around for witnesses. You roll your eyes so hard it makes your head hurt a little. “Like he knows something I don’t, as if there’s anything in his brain other than elevator music.”

And of course, he tells Keeley about it, which earns you an interrogation as soon as you come down to the office.

“Thought he didn’t have access to his account,” Keeley frowns. “Didn’t you change his password after the Oreo Incident?”

“God, don’t even think about the Oreo Incident while near me,” you rub at your temples to try to diminish the migraine building up at the mere thought of it.

Now you gotta worry about Roy becoming a buffer between you and Keeley not buying your usual excuses. With them and the rest of the team and staff in the mix, you don’t stand a chance to get near Jamie.

You start surviving on fantasies alone that grow and spiral into unrealistic, too-hot scenarios.

Jamie, his shorts around his ankles and you on your knees in an empty locker room, his hands on your hair as he pants please, love, so fuckin’–

You on the desk and Jamie with his head between your legs, late into the night after everyone’s gone home and it’s you and him in your office as you moan fuck, Jamie, that’s– yeah, that’s good–

A night in a hotel room after some away game, Jamie letting you ride the leftover energy out of him. Thassit, angel, put your back into it, yeah? Be good for me.

It’s too much and it’s not enough.

Jamie throws himself into his training, trailing after Roy’s approval and eager to improve in every way he can, both as a person and a player. It’s nice to see him so dedicated, you think, remembering the traces of cockiness when you two first met in your office.

They’re still there somewhere, and you see them shine when, for some reason, all the coaching staff– Ted included– give Jamie the bird mid-game. You’re sitting on the V.I.P. box next to Keeley when his monster of a goal goes through, screaming your lungs out and hugging everyone within six feet of you.

You’re too far away from the field to see clearly, but you can imagine Jamie with striking clarity: cocky expression and tongue out, arms crossed before the rest of the boys jump with glee to embrace and congratulate him.

The locker room is a mess of sweat and laughter when you go down there, Keeley making a beeline for Roy and Rebbecca going straight to Ted. It leaves you with a bunch of overexcited men hugging you and handing you drinks in celebration.

“No stories for the ‘gram today,” you promise when Zorreaux and Dani begin posing, making faces, and showing off muscles to you. You can’t help but laugh, Sam’s arm around you. “I’m off duty tonight, boys. On a fan capacity only.”

“Are we allowed to date fans?” Jan Maas asks, half joke half genuine question. The boys make ooooh noises of interest.

You laugh again, not taking it seriously, but Keeley suddenly pipes up from her spot on Roy’s lap. “Please don’t! It’s a PR nightmare.”

Roy adds helpfully. “I’ll punch you in the dick.”

The conversation shifts to other topics but you search the room to find Jamie already looking at you, eyes dark and jaw tight. It’s barely a moment of eye contact, insignificant to anyone else in the room, but it’s enough to make your insides flutter. Meet me outside.

Thank God everyone’s too distracted celebrating when you sneak out of the locker room about half an hour later. You find Jamie already there, waiting for you at the end of it. He brightens when he sees you, shutting his phone and putting it in his back pocket.

It’s a little overwhelming, having Jamie Tartt’s full attention on you. As if it’s not exactly what you’ve been pining after for months.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Man of the Match?”

“Me?” he wonders faux incredulously while leaning casually against the wall, a dramatic hand to his chest. You walk till you’re right in front of him. “I work here, love. Or are you forgetting my heroic play out there already?”

You scoff. “We work here, dumbass, and how can I forget? It’s all everyone’s talking about. What are you doing away from your victory parade?”

“Same thing you are. Taking a breather,” he shrugs, giving you a slow once over, taking you in head to toe. You’re wearing a Richmond jersey and some loose jeans, nothing to write home about, but Jamie seems to like it. His tongue wets his lips before he focuses on your face again, charming. “Lots of people in there, yeah? Needed a minute.”

You raise your eyebrows, amused and unconvinced. “I can leave you alone if you want.”

Jamie abandons his spot against the wall and goes to you, slow and careful like a hunter stalking its prey. He says, voice a low, rough murmur, “Didn’t I already tell ya I like you better? You can stay as long as you want, love.”

Your entire body heats up at the callback to last December, the reminder of how easily Jamie snuck into your personal space and stole your breath with a heart-stopping kiss in this very same hallway.

“I‘m not gonna lie, this seems a little orchestrated, Tartt.”

He smiles, indulgent. “Oh?”

“Sending me looks, getting me all alone…” you take a step closer so you’re poorly hidden behind the water cooler. If someone were to walk out of the locker room, they’d have to walk this way and take a turn to see you standing so close to each other.

“You were the one who followed me out,” he reminds you, tilting his head and raising his brows. He’s so expressive and you can’t take it, want to put your mouth to every inch of his face until he’s saying nothing but your name. “Who’s the real mastermind here, ey?”

“Don’t even,” you warn, unable to bite back an upward tilt of the lips. “I know how you get in hallways, mister. I haven’t forgotten, yet.”

“Haven’t forgotten you kissed me back, either,” he adds and dares to place a not-quite kiss on the corner of your mouth, a barely-there brush of the lips. “Couldn’t let go of me, could you?”

“Yeah, well, you leave a lot to the imagination,” you can’t help but complain, the little touch not enough to satiate the hunger you’ve been cultivating since that moment. You grab onto his shirt with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. “I gotta brush up against you just to see if you’ll do something about it and you never do.”

Jamie laughs, rich and warm.

“You think I don’t see ya?” he wonders, fingers brushing against your knuckles before his hands travel slowly up your arms, touch agonizingly warm. Your breath hitches, and it only makes him bolder. “When you pass me by right here in the hallway, touchin’ me ‘on accident’? Leavin’ me wantin’ more?”

“Do you?” you wonder, voice low, facade cracking as your eyes fall to his mouth for a second, stare hungry. “Want more?”

“How could I not?” he admits. You’re looking at him like you want to take a bite out of him, and the adrenaline of that goal is finally wearing off to find more unreleased energy behind it, a tension that’s been strung tight long before he stole a kiss from you. “Fucking Christ, angel, you’re…”

“What?” you wonder when he trails off. Your hands brush against the hem of his shirt and Jamie feels your touch even through his clothing. “What about me?”

You make him feel like he’s on fire, right here in the hallway where anyone, anyone, could see you. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

You smirk, pleased.

“What would you do, huh? If I touched you right now?”

Jamie breathes out his nose harshly. “Fuck.”

“What if I told you-” you begin, slow and tortuous. “That I haven’t stopped thinking about you here? Against the wall where anyone could walk by? What if I wanted you so badly that I didn’t care if they did?”

Jamie follows the bridge of your nose and the shape of your eyebrows with his eyes, the bite of your lip calling to him like a brightly lit bullseye.

He thinks fuck it. Fuck it, fuck restraint, fuck stringing this out any longer. He’s a winner tonight, in more ways than one.

Who knows who leans in first? All you know is that you both meet in the middle, clashing like two waves hitting each other, his mouth frantic and eager on yours. He has one hand at the small of your back, pulling you to him, and another one on your collarbone edging dangerously to wrap around your throat, fingers drumming against tender skin.

You’re touching him everywhere you can reach, feeling so untethered to the rest of the world that your knees buckle, helping him keep you right where he wants you. Whatever remaining bravado you had left vanishes when he has you like this, and you’re desperately trying to keep him close by clutching at the back of his shirt, tanging your fingers into his hair, and raking your nails against his clothed torso.

You can’t make up your goddamned mind. You want all of him, putty in your hands, all the time.

You hear a couple of voices, laughing and joking, leaving the locker room and becoming louder by the second. You separate, mouths bruised and tender to the touch. Jamie offers you his hand, smile glinting dangerously. “You trust me?”

You scoff, taking it and intertwining your fingers. “Against my better fucking judgment.”

He pulls you towards the closest exit and you let yourself be led, anything other than your phone forgotten in your office.

In the blink of an eye, he’s got you in his car, his hand on your thigh edging closer and closer and closer to where you want it. You’re sure he misses one or three stop signs and runs a red light, but the streets are almost deserted at this hour and your skin is warm, only getting warmer even with the AC at full blast.

When you get to his place it’s like you never stopped, and despite your urgency for him to have you right there in the middle of the training facilities, you love the way he pins you against the wall of his home, picture frames rattling with the force of it. His hands bruise your hips and he lifts your jersey up to your chest so his mouth can travel a path of bare skin down your torso, wet and open-mouthed.

He looks up to you when he reaches the waist of your pants, kneeling in front of you, a question melted in the sheer want of the green of his eyes.

He’s asking for permission, you realize.

Something sweet momentarily replaces the urgency you have for him, and you have to drag him back up for another kiss. He makes a questioning noise when you pull him towards you but melts against you when his lips touch yours. It’s a tender thing, an answer, one last quiet moment before you both sink into the chaos.

“Lemme see you,” Jamie kneels back between your legs, this time cleverly undoing your pants and leaving you in nothing but your underwear while you struggle out of your shirt and leave it forgotten on the floor.

His fingers brush over the wet spot between your legs and you gasp, insides clenching in response to his touch. He sounds gutted when he says, “God, look at you. Haven’t even touched you, yet, fuck.”

He tucks his face between your legs and runs his tongue over your clothed clit, the sensation of the wet fabric against his tongue driving him crazy.

He’s painfully hard against his boxers. Jamie’s been waiting for this too long– there’s no way he’s lasting as long as he wants to, but he can focus on you for the time being. It’s not a difficult task, your body’s trembling with the force of your arousal and begging him to do something.

It calls to him, muting the rest of the world around him.

“Are you ever gonna, or should I get things going on my own?”

He smirks against your thighs, biting playfully at the skin there before going alright, alright when you pull at his hair, though it only makes his dick twitch in his pants.

He feels more than he sees your shiver when he finally gets your underwear out of the way, and he wastes no time before hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder before diving in, eating you out with the energy of a man starved.

You hadn’t even made it past the living room.

“Fuck,” you moan, hips thrusting forward and your hand tightening against his hair, the other one searching and failing to find balance against the wall you’re leaning against.

You want to close your eyes as the waves of pleasure wash over you, your muscles taunt with how Jamie’s expertly driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. “Fuck, Jamie, that’s good. You’re so good at that, oh–”

You see how his body takes in the praise and feel it against your center when he moans into you, tongue cleverly touching all the right places. Jamie closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the experience.

He suddenly draws back, earning a noise of displeasure from you only to be rendered back into a moaning mess when his hands replace his mouth. He looks up at you like he’s staring at a deity.

“What d’ya want?” he asks as he slides two fingers through your folds, his other hand keeping your hips pinned to the wall as you try to buckle into his touch, whimpers echoing through Jamie’s home. “Huh, love? Have I left you speechless already?”

“You said I left you thinkin’ about it,” he recalls, too coherent for someone as terribly horny as he is. But Jamie needs to know, he wants you to crave him as desperately as he does you. “Back in the hall, that’s what you said. Whad’ya want, love? Where do ya want me?”

“Here,” you pant, eyes closed and face tilted upwards as you try to move your hips, chasing ecstasy. Jamie’s fingers are slowing down, probably to make you focus and only driving you further insane. “Anywhere, everywhere. Fuck, Jamie, I want all of it, all of you, please–”

“Greedy,” he singsongs, but any amusement is ripped from his throat with a moan when you pull at his hair again, walnut mist locks like silk between your fingers. He quickens the pace, unable to deny you. “Fuck, greedy thing, aren’t you? Wasn’t enough to stare me down and to steal a kiss, ya want all of it.”

You sigh, muscles clenching. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…”

“Then take it,” he gives you all you want on a silver platter, right there for you to take. “All you need, angel, ‘s all yours, ‘m all yours–”

With both his fingers and mouth back at work, you’re a lost cause, reaching your high and letting it wash over all your limbs like TV static before you become boneless against the wall.

Jamie kisses your knee before moving your leg from his shoulder and setting it gently on the ground, back on his feet just in time to kiss you soundly.

He’s practically holding you up, your arms limply hanging around his neck and your legs made of jelly after the strength of your orgasm. It’s like you let go of all the tension that started building up the second Jamie walked into your office that cold November morning and there’s nothing left holding you up other than his hold on you.

Except Jamie’s hips push into yours and you feel the length of him pressed against you. It’s a reminder that no matter how badly he seemed to enjoy eating you out he hasn’t been able to find his own release. Yet.

You smirk lazily, finding the strength from God knows where to cup him in your hand, watching his expressive face contort in desperate pleasure. “What about you, Jay? What do you want?”

Jamie is unable to do anything other than babble nonsense as you move past his shorts and boxers to take him in your hand, slow and tight. He gives out a little cry when you strengthen your grip, exhaling as he rests his head on your shoulder.

He never does answer you, and Jamie comes like that in your arms, quick and easy. He’s kissing your shoulder, your neck, the hinge of your jaw before finding your mouth and slipping his tongue past your lips, languid and easy.

“You getting tired on me, angel?” he wonders, massaging the skin of the back of your neck to gain your attention. You turn your head, following his motions. His eyes haven’t lost their dark edge. His mouth is red and calling for you to worsen the damage. “Cause the night’s young, you know. Bed’s comfortable, too. If I’m good against a wall, wait ‘til I get you in me bedroom.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but you feel a flutter of interest between your legs. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”

He steals another kiss just for that, giddy with victory, though you don’t know how long you’re gonna get away with calling it stealing when you keep giving yourself to him without a second thought.

“Is that a yes?”

You pretend to ponder on it. “Well. You haven’t fucked me, yet. There’s still room for improvement.”

Jamie shivers. He can’t resist the challenge and you know it. Whether you’re on the other side of the room or in his arms, he’s never getting enough of you and you love it.

“Oh, angel,” he cups your face, already on his way to seal his lips onto yours. “You’ve no idea.”

___

IT’S HERE IT’S HERE IT’S HERE

i’m so afraid of not living up to the expectations of the song but i couldn’t get this idea out of my head!!! thank you if you got this far into the read and i appreciate any comment of support and feedback!

i’m hoping to put out two or three more fics this summer before school starts, after that my schedule might not allow me to post that often but i’m not gonna leave you guys hanging, don’t worry!

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taglist: @dunster @daisy-crybaby @talksoprettyjjx @loveslide @ccomandercody @marrianena-library @shakespeareanwannabe @ajkdjdnkekemfxj @higherthanheroes @jamietarttdodo @lightninginab0ttle @seacactusplant @sokkigarden @kti2004 @mrfitzsimmons @guccilongboard @jellycolors @littlemisssunshine192 @uniiversed @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @royskents @youbelongwithflo @curlypeter @alipap3 @feelinthesefics

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #fanfiction #leo writes #ted lasso imagine #reader insert #phil dunster #sam obisanya #toheeb jimoh #roy kent #brett goldstein #keeley jones #juno temple #can't believe i forgot to add tags lmao so stupid

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kaleldobrev · 4 months

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Never the Favorite

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Platonic Pairing: Sam Winchester & F. Reader

Summary: You finally try and set the record straight

Word Count: 844

Warnings: Cursing (1x)

Authors Note: Takes place during season one | Something that always got me, is whenever Sam said something along the lines of Dean being the favorite child. Like Sam, he wasn’t and it was pretty clear so that’s what I based this fic on | Let me know if you like the new way I have formatted | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

It was another classic Sam and Dean argument — Sam telling Dean how he was never the favorite child growing up and how Dean actually was; and how much of a black sheep of the family Sam had felt because he didn't want to go into the family business. It was an argument and a sentiment that you were so used to hearing at this point that you could pretty much recite word for word their replies. The boys were starting to sound like broken records, and you and Dean had only picked up Sam from Stanford a few months ago.

You didn't want to get involved in their argument as you felt like it wasn't really your place, but there was a part of you that started to get annoyed with Sam, because you knew that Dean was never the favorite — Sam always was. You knew how hard Dean had tried over the years to try and get his father's approval, but it was approval that he would never be able to get, no matter how hard he tried. It killed you inside, because you loved Dean for who he truly was, not who he was pretending to be.

But because you had heard this argument so many times, you had told yourself that you were finally going to say something to Sam; to try and stop this argument once and for all.

Parking Baby and cutting the engine, Dean pulled out his wallet from the glove compartment, pulling out a crumpled up 20 that he won from a poker game a few nights ago. “Gonna grab some snacks. Either of you want anything?” He asked before turning to you. “Want your usual chocolate anything?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes please. And orange soda if they have it.”

“Getting you the bottle this time. ‘Cause I don’t want another spilling incident like last time with the can,” he said, giving you a wink. “How about you?” He asked, turning to Sam.

“I’m good thanks,” Sam nodded, before pulling out his phone and promptly started checking his e-mail.

“Alrighty,” Dean said, getting out of the car. “Be back in ten.”

As soon as Dean was out of eyeshot and earshot, you sat up closer to the passenger side where Sam was, placing a hand on the back of the seat. “Hey, I know he’s your brother and the whole point of brothers is basically being assholes to each other but, I really need you to lay off the whole Dean being the favorite stuff.”

Sam turned to you, placing his phone in his lap; the look he gave you was of pure confusion. “But he is the favorite. Always has, always will be. I know you probably wouldn’t know that consider —”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you began, slight attitude in your voice. “I’ve been hunting with Dean and your father for about a year now, and let me tell you, I didn’t need to be around for your childhoods to know that you were and are still the very clear favorite.”

“Me? The favorite?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did it ever occur to you why he’s so similar to your dad? Why he barely shows any of his actual interests around anyone but me? Dean wears his jacket, listens to the same music, says the same phrases.”

“But…that’s how Dean always has been," Sam stated. For as long as he could remember, that's always how he remembered Dean, being so similar to their father. Memories flashed before him, recalling numerous times where him and his father sang along to Zeppelin during one of their many insanely long car rides to Pastor Jim's, or how Dean would refuse to go anywhere without their father's leather jacket.

"You really know nothing about your brother do you?" You asked him, slight sadness and hurt entering your voice. You hadn't known for very long, but you had known him long enough for him to start letting you in and getting to know the real him, and not the facade he let everyone else believe. "The only reason Dean acts like your father is because in his mind, if he acts like him he'll get the approval he always wanted that you never had to try and get." You felt your blood start to boil. "So please stop with the fucking favorite argument okay? I'm sick and tired of it."

Sam was silent for a moment, as he's never seen you this angry before nor has he ever seen you this defensive of anyone. As much as he wanted to disagree with you, he knew that he couldn't because he clearly didn't know Dean the way that you did. He might of spent 18 years of his life on the road with him, but he didn't actually know him. "Okay," he finally said, slightly sighing.

"Just...don't tell Dean I said any of this to you okay?" You asked him, slightly patting his shoulder.

"Of course," he said, slightly smiling.

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester & you #sam winchester & reader #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural #spn #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

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supercap2319 · 4 months

Text

"Tell me, Y/N. You and Sammy have that vanilla-y, girly shit kind of relationship don't you?" Dean gave him an inquisitive look through sips of his beer. It was just the two of them in the bunker alone.

Sam and Cas were on a food run, so it was just Dean, and Sam's Charmed One witch boyfriend sitting at the table together. Y/N was researching up a spell that used henbane, wolfsbane, and gypsy's blood on Sam's laptop.

"What do you mean by 'vanilla-y?'"

"Holding hands. Cuddles in bed. Sammy crying his way through sex. That kind of shit." Dean smiled.

"Well, he and I do hold hands, but he likes to play rough in bed. Likes to tie me to his bed, and edge me for hours till I'm begging him to let me cum. There was also the time he tied to the hood of the Impala, and he fucked me with his big moose cock until he scratched the paint job." Y/N smiles.

"Son of a bitch! You did what on my baby?"

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #sam winchester #Sam Winchester x male reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #jared padalecki #Jared Padalecki x male reader

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dianawinchester03 · 29 days

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Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist by @dianawinchester03

In this rewrite of CW's hit TV Show 'Supernatural'.

Y/N L/N is a longtime friend of the notorious Winchester Brothers, coming from a long line of hunters herself. Growing up with them, their fathers had a goal of avenging their wives deaths. Currently on her own hunting, much to her own fathers demise, she gets a call from her childhood crush, Dean Winchester. Notifying her of his fathers disappearance, will she join the brothers on the hunt to find their father? And will she resolve her relationship with her own?

=====================================

Season One (ongoing)

Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin

Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum

Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders

Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

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Also available on:

📖; ao3

📖; wattpad

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Authors Note: I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶I’ll update the list after each chapter release

Xoxo

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weyirn · 11 months

Note

Marvel men with a bf that's bigger and taller than them and likes to carry them in a bridal style or likes to pick them up randomly

Marvel x Male!Reader

Taller/Bigger Boyfriend That Likes Picking Them Up

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☆Steve becomes flustered at first, and it takes him a little while to get used to it (not that he doesn't enjoy it or anything). Nowadays, he just relaxes in your arms, liking to be vulnerable and letting go once in a while. It shows how much he trusts you, allowing you to show this side of him. But picking him up randomly will result in him scolding you.

❄️Bucky likes it way more than he thinks he should...At first, he was surprised by it and stiffened up in your arms, but slowly relaxed and leaned into your chest, because he knows he can be vulnerable with you. He feels safe with you. But when it comes to being picked up randomly, he doesn't enjoy it. He would rather have a heads up before you do it instead.

💲Secretly fanboying Tony doesn't admit that he enjoys it and makes snark comments about it, but then he starts to complain when you would put him down. It's fun to use this to your advantage and tease him about much he likes being carried by you, watching him roll his eyes and get flustered by it.

🕸Peter blushes and shyly clings to you, not wanting you to put him down. He feels a little secure being in your arms. There are times where he just wants to be in your arms, so he'll just sit in your lap and you'll have your arms wrapped around him. Just anything to feel your touch.

⌲If you're randomly picking him up, Sam would kind of take it as a challenge, as he would try and catch you right before you can put your hands on him. If he fails to catch you, then he'll be like, "you're not going to put me down anytime soon, aren't you?"

🐜Scott feels his heart flutter whenever you pick him up, and immediately clings to you. Sometimes, he holds his arms in the air, hinting that you should pick him up and carry him. He will have fun if you pick him up randomly, being both surprised but also laughing it off.

💚The only time Bruce will let you pick him up is when he's exhausted and you're carrying him to bed. He doesn't feel comfortable being picked up randomly (cuz it might make his nerves bad).

⚡️Thor is...actually surprised that you can pick him up, but that doesn't mean it's not a pleasant surprise for him. He's always clinging to you and smiling, liking how easy it is for you to carry him. He'll always laugh along with you when you would pick him up randomly, enjoying the pleasant surprise.

🐍It always makes Loki grumpy that you pick him up; he thinks you're doing it to tease him, or to rub it in his face of how bigger and stronger you are of him. He will never admit that he may enjoy it, considering the fact that he doesn't even try to get out of your arms when you hold him.

🖤Eddie actually thinks this is much better than him walking on his own (and Venom telling him how much of a slow walker he is). He just doesn't let you do it in public unless he's exhausted. But you're not picking up Venom any time soon (cuz he won't let you, and he's way bigger than you anyway, lol).

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octoberclidan · 3 months

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Can't Say No to You

Request: Could I request one with Sam and Dean (they are all best friends and either Sam or Dean has a crush on y/n; you can choose who!) where they all had just gotten back from a hunt and y/n decides to take a shower and then clean up a little bit around the bunker, and then while she is doing the dishes she’s listening to music on a speaker and she dances/sings along to the music (any choice of music). The boys catch her.. something like that? Sorry it’s such a long request I’ve been trying to look for someone to write this idea :))

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

"I am very much looking forward to getting home", [Y/N] sighed from the passenger seat in the Impala. Dean was driving, as usual, and he nodded in agreement. It had been a quick enough hunt, but the drive back had been a long one, and they were all looking forward to a rest.

"I'm just looking forward to being able to stretch my legs since someone stole my spot", Sam said from behind Dean, and [Y/N] looked around to smile sheepishly at him. "And someone else", he flicked Dean on the back of his head, "let them".

"Hey", Dean reached around to rub the back of his head. "That someone just saved both our asses back there. She can sit up front if she wants".

"Mhmm, she can have whatever she wants, because that someone else can't say no to her". Sam sat back and crossed his arms, and [Y/N] giggled as he reminded her of a child throwing a tantrum.

"Sam, are you saying that you can say no to me?" [Y/N] asked him. He mumbled something and looked out the window. She caught Dean's eye and they shared a quiet laugh at Sam's expense, before she turned up the music and the three of them listened to it for the rest of the ride home. Truth was, neither of the boys could say no to her, because they both had an above-average soft spot for her. Dean's soft spot just may have been slightly bigger and may have run deeper than Sam's, but she had both of them wrapped around her finger, and they knew it.

***

[Y/N] announced that she was taking a long, hot shower first as soon as she got out of the car in the bunker's garage. The boys watched her almost skip off towards the bathroom as they pulled their hunting gear out of the car. "She's gonna be the death of you", Sam chuckled as he closed the trunk.

"What?" Dean asked, pulling her bag up over his shoulder and grabbing his own.

"When was the last time she carried her own bag in from the car?"

"She hurt her arm on the hunt", Dean shrugged, starting to walk out towards the bedrooms.

"You mean that scratch on her elbow? She lost what, two drops of blood? Maybe you should go find her and stitch her up", Sam said as he caught up with Dean.

"Yeah, and who was it that drove to not one, not two, not three, but four different grocery stores last week because we were out of her favourite ice cream?" Dean chuckled and Sam paused for a moment in contemplation before sighing.

"She's gonna be the death of both of us".

***

Later in the evening, Dean was in his room, lounging on his bed and scribbling down some notes in his journal about how the hunt had gone, when he heard music playing. Not just any music, but one of his favourites, Ramble On, a song that made it on to nearly every one of his mix tapes. He closed his journal and tossed it to the end of his bed before getting up and wandering out of his room, following the sound of the song. He stopped outside the entranceway to the kitchen. There she was, one of his cassette players set on the counter beside her, while she was cleaning up some dishes that they'd left behind before the hunt. He watched as she swayed her hips from side to side and nodded her head in time with the beat, and he crossed his arms and smiled as he listened to her humming along. He leaned against the entranceway and watched in adoration, the attraction he felt for her was just different to other women, he couldn't quite name it though.

The song had ended and the next one started playing when he felt a nudge on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Sam chuckling and shaking his head, watching her too. "How is she so carefree, when we hunt monsters for a living?" He asked quietly, and Dean shrugged, thinking about it for a minute.

"I think she just makes time for it. You know, time to just not worry about monsters and demons, just be a girl, listening to music, and screw everything else".

Sam looked at his brother, who's eyes were still glued to [Y/N]. He'd seen desire in Dean's eyes before when talking to attractive women, but this was more than just desire. Sam knew [Y/N] was special to Dean. He turned around to walk back towards his room, but stopped to pat Dean on the back and leaned in towards him. "Tell her how you feel", he said, not waiting for Dean's response and leaving the two of them alone.

Dean waited a moment longer, enjoying the sight in front of him, before he pushed himself off the doorway and stepped down into the kitchen. He walked up behind her and smirked to himself before leaning close to her ear and whispering "Boo". She yelped and twisted around to slap him in the face with a scrubbing brush and frowned as he laughed at her reaction.

"You scared the shit out of me, Dean... Jesus", she shook her head but gave him a small smile as she realised she'd just wet half of his face with her attack. "Sorry", she reached behind her to drop the brush into the sink and grab a towel, and lifted it up to dab his face gently. He studied her face as she did so, and he felt a warmth inside him as she concentrated on the task. She was about to turn around and put it back when he took it from her.

"You have suds on your forehead", he grinned as he started to wipe her face too, and he laughed as she blushed in embarrassment. He threw the towel behind her when he was done, and then hooked his thumb under her chin to tilt her face up towards him, looking to see that he hadn't missed anything. He tucked her hair behind her ear and let his hand stay on her cheek, feeling the warmth from her blush. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, humming quietly in content.

"How long were you watching me for?" She asked, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Now it was his turn to blush.

"You uh, knew I was there?"

"I'm a hunter, I'm always aware of my surroundings", she smiled up at him. "I don't mind, I like watching you too".

"You do?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Mhmm", she nodded. "I like watching when you work on Baby. You know, when you have your sleeves rolled up".

"Really? Why is that?"

"You're nice to look at", she said, looking up into his eyes.

"Yeah... yeah so are you", he said, lowering his hand from her cheek to her neck, wrapping around the back of it. They were standing very close together now, [Y/N] leaning against the counter and Dean's hips pressing into her stomach.

"What would you say if I asked you to kiss me?" She asked, her forwardness raising Dean's eyebrows.

"Well", he chuckled, "you already know I can't say no to you". She grinned up at him as he leaned down, and slowly but firmly, with purpose, pressed his lips to hers. They closed their eyes as [Y/N] wrapped her hands around his waist and Dean held her face between his hands. They fit together perfectly. He broke the kiss for a moment, keeping his eyes closed and leaning his forehead against hers. It was now or never. "[Y/N]... I uh.. I'm not really sure how-".

"I know", she cut him off. "I like you too". Relief flooded through him and he immediately kissed her again. It was like she transfered some of her carefree thoughts to him in that moment, as all he could think about was her, and how happy she made him. Sam was right, she was going to be the death of him, and he welcomed it.

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic

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spookyflavors · 6 months

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Sirentale - Chapter 01 (Part 02) Based on the various works by @llamagoddessofficial and @aka-indulgence

(Inspired by Undertale - Toby Fox)

[Part 01] [X] [PART 03] [PART 04] [PART 05] [PART 06 - END]

If you like what I make, please consider sending me a Kofi sometime~

#sirentale #undertale au #siren!au #siren au #cw kidnapping #cw possessiveness #cw thalassophobia #horrortale sans #sans x reader #sans x self insert #sans x oc #Sam the Human

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fanfictionalraven · 2 months

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Unforgettable

Title: Unforgettable

Song Inspiration: Unforgettable by Thomas Rhett

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2,822

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published January, 2018. Flashbacks in italics.

You knew it was stupid to be mad. You weren’t exactly in a “normal” relationship. Dean wasn’t the roses, chocolates, or candle-lit dinners type. And, to be fair, you’d never really considered yourself the type to want those things either. You knew it was stupid to be mad. But, dammit, you couldn’t help it.

One year ago today, you and Dean had met and the chemistry was instantaneous. It had been a great night, the best night of your life honestly. The next day, he brought you back to the bunker and you’d never left. You’d never really defined the relationship, it was a sort of unspoken but obvious dedication.

So maybe it was a little unfair to expect any form of “anniversary” celebration or gifts. But was some form of acknowledgment too much to ask of whatever it was you had? Probably.

You groan and lay your head on the library table. Sam, sitting directly across from you with a lore book, was oblivious to your internal argument. He looks up now.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head, not moving it from the table. “What’s up?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.

“What are we?” You ask. There’s a moments silence before Sam speaks again.

“Well – we’re hunters,” he says. You sit up and narrow your eyes at him. “What?” He asks, laughing again.

“Me and Dean. What are we?” You ask again. His laughter stops and confusion spreads across his face. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we friends with benefits?”

“Pretty sure you should be having this conversation with Dean,” he tells you, looking back at his book. You groan and lay your head down again. “Why is this suddenly bothering you?”

“Because I can’t decide if I have the right to be mad that he doesn’t remember we met a year ago today,” you admit. Sam starts to laugh again and you sit up quickly.

“He forgot your anniversary, huh?” He asks. You shush him quickly, looking over your shoulder. Dean had been in the garage most of the morning working on his car but he could come back at any moment. “Look, Y/N, I’ve never seen Dean like this with anyone. Ever. You mean more to him than I’m sure he’s said. But he isn’t used to the whole relationship thing. I’m sure he’ll come around though.”

“Hey, Sweetheart. Can you come down here?” You hear Dean call from the hall. You sigh as you stand and start down the corridor. Of course, you had been overreacting. You knew how much Dean cared for you, even if he never said it. And you didn’t need a day set aside for him to prove it more.

You stop short at the entrance to the garage and smile. Dean is leaning back against the hood of the Impala, his hands shoved down in the pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing your favorite of his flannel shirts, the one that makes his eyes pop a little more. It was the same one he’d been wearing the night you met.

You’d rolled into Lebanon, Kansas earlier that day, having found a case. It was an easy one. Open and shut. A vengeful spirit terrorizing a local family. You’d already worked out who it was and were just waiting for the cover of night to go salt and burn the body.

While you were waiting, you’d decided to hit a local bar. The one you picked looked like just the perfect mix of seedy and respectable. You’d been sitting at the bar for over an hour now, nursing your second bottle of beer, when someone slides onto the stool next to you. A blue and green checkered flannel hugs the muscles of the man’s forearms in all the right ways as he flags the barkeep for a beer. You shake your head quickly, having to remind yourself why you’re here in the first place.

You allow yourself one glance at him and immediately regret it. He’s looking back at you with piercing green eyes, already mentally undressing you. You look forward quickly and take a long drink of your beer before turning to face him. He angles his body towards you as well, smiling in the most irresistible way.

“Look,” you start, avoiding his eyes. “I’m only here for work. I’m really not looking for a drunken one night stand.” They weren’t the words you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him where you were staying for the night but you knew you had to stay focused on the job and if he went back to your motel room you’d never want to leave again. The man laughs and you look up at him now.

“Okay number one, I’m completely sober,” he says before taking a long drink from his bottle. You feel your face heat up when he runs his tongue over his lips. “And B, I’m not looking for a one night stand either.”

“No?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from his lips. He smirks slightly and shakes his head.

“I’d need at least a week with you,” he says. You can’t help the laugh the erupts from you. He smiles as he watches you. “What do you say?” He asks. Before you can answer, someone else is tapping on your shoulder. You turn to find another man.

Under normal circumstances, those circumstances being the man you were currently sitting next to not being there, he would have been a perfectly attractive man. However, your present company seemed to make every other man on the planet pale in comparison. The new suitor smiles at you, a smile that would no doubt be dazzling if you hadn’t already seen the other man’s.

“Care to dance?” He asks, nodding towards the empty space in the room where one couple was drunkenly swaying to some song in their head. You could give him a simple ‘no thank you’ but quickly decide that wouldn’t be any fun. Instead, you reach over next to you, placing your hand on the knee of the man beside you. You feel him twitch under your touch and fight not to smirk.

“Sorry. My boyfriend just got off work,” you tell him. Your ‘boyfriend’ waves at the other guy, a smirking playing at his lips. The man leaves you alone, quickly moving on to another girl in the room. A hand comes over yours and you look over at him.

“Can I at least know my girlfriend’s name?” He asks. You laugh and pull your hand out from under his.

“Y/N,” you tell him, picking your bottle back up. You feel his eyes on you as you take a drink. “Y/N Y/L/N. And you are?”

“Dean Winchester,” he says quickly.

“Babe?” Dean’s voice draws you from the memory. He’s standing in front of you now, a piece of cloth in his hands. You look at it then at him, raising an eyebrow.

“If this is a kinky thing, I’m not in the mood,” you tell him. He rolls his eyes.

“Will you trust me?” He asks. You smile a little and nod. He moves to stand behind you and carefully slips the cloth over your eyes. You sigh as he ties it in place. “Can you see anything?” He asks. You hear him moving back around you and can imagine he’s waving a hand in front of your face.

“Nothing. Dean, what’s this about?” You ask him. He chuckles and takes your hands in his, pulling on you. You take a couple of clumsy steps and hear the door of the Impala opening.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, guiding you carefully into the front seat of the car.

“You’re acting weird,” you tell him. You know he rolls his eyes again before closing the door. A moment later, the door on your other side opens and you feel Dean slide into the seat next to you. His hand comes to rest on your knee, the way it always does when you’re in the car together, before the car starts to move. His thumb rubs against your knee as he drives quietly.

“The Dean Winchester?” You ask, staring at the man next to you. He sits back slightly and nods. You’d heard plenty of stories about the Winchesters and all of their exploits. “I heard you were dead. Like – three different times.”

“Didn’t take. You’re a hunter?” He asks. You nod and look back at the bottle in your hands.

“Are you here for the case?” You ask. He sits back, shaking his head.

“No, actually we live just up the road,” he tells you. You look at him quickly.

“You live somewhere? Like…permanently?” You ask. He laughs lightly and nods, leaning forward onto the bar.

“Yea. Sammy and I have a place. It’s, ugh, an old bunker for a secret society that died out in the 50’s. It’s pretty awesome,” he says. You nod, mulling this over for a moment. “So what’s the case?” He asks, looking back at you now. You shrug and glance at the window.

“Vengeful spirit. Wanna go on a salt and burn with me?” You ask, smiling at him. You knew you could definitely use the muscle. It would take you all night to dig the grave up on your own. But with Dean’s help you could be done in a few hours and maybe even have time for a little something else. Dean smiles as he watches you, as though reading your mind and nods.

“My car’s parked out front,” he says. You smile widely and quickly finish off your beer. Dean tosses some cash onto the bar before rising to his feet and holding a hand out for you. You take his hand, your fingers interlocking, as he pulls you from the bar.

You feel the car come to a stop and cut off. The driver door opens then closes and a moment later your door opens. Dean’s hand takes yours and he carefully helps you from the car. You can smell the dirt and feel the soft earth under your feet.

“Dean, where are we??” You ask, sighing. He stops you by placing his hands on your shoulders from behind. He reaches up and pulls the blindfold off. You blink against the late evening sunlight and look around. It was a sight you knew well but you were very confused as to why you were here. “A cemetery? Are we working a case?” You ask, looking back at Dean. He rolls his eyes.

“Not just any cemetery,” he says, turning you to face the graves again. You sigh as you look around before breaking into a wide smile as it hits you.

“Our first date,” you say as his arms snake around your waist.

You’re sitting on the edge of the hole you and Dean had been working on for some time now. He’s shed a couple of layers, his jacket and flannel shirt, leaving himself only in the tight black t-shirt that clung to him with sweat. You bite your lip as you watch him move another shovel full of dirt out of the hole.

“Ya know, as much as I love that you’re checking me out right now, we could be done if you’d help,” he says suddenly, looking over at you. You blink then smile coyly and shrug.

“Well, you’ve been trying to show off this whole time I thought I’d finally let you,” you tell him. He stops and turns to face you, resting his arm on the standing shovel.

“It is working?” He asks with a smirk. You shake your head as you look him over. Pushing off the ground, you slide down into the grave and walk over to him.

“I mean, if I had a thing for the sexy, bad-boy hunter with a heart of gold, maybe,” you say. He throws his head back laughing and you suddenly realize you could spend the rest of your life watching him laugh. You quickly shake away those thoughts as you reach for the shovel. You dig into the dirt and hit something hard instantly. Looking back at Dean, you smirk, “Finished.” His eyes narrow and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you kneel down and wipe the dirt from the top of the coffin. With Dean’s help, you pry open the top half of the casket.

“Well, there she is,” he says, pointing to the old bones.

Dean climbs out of the hole then offers you a hand. You take his hand and allow him to pull you out as well. Your pour the salt over the remains as Dean dumps the gasoline in. You pull the box of matches from your back jean pocket and strike one on the side of the box before dropping the lit match into the open coffin.

“So,” Dean starts as the flames engulf the body. You look over at him. “You think I’m sexy.” You roll your eyes and grab two fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss quickly. His hands find your waist instantly as his lips move against yours. You pull away from his lips abruptly and take one of his hands in yours, pulling him away from the burning grave and back to the Impala parked a few yards away. “Are we leaving?” Dean asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice. You laugh lightly and open the back door before sliding in.

“You coming?” You ask, looking out at him when he doesn’t follow. He stares down at you in disbelief before shaking his head and getting in quickly, closing the door behind him. You move into his lap, straddling his waist as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Ya know, I’ve got a bed back at the bunker,” he says, his fingers grazing the skin at the edge of your shirt. You smile and lean in, kissing his lips briefly.

“We’ll get there eventually,” you tell him. He smirks slightly.

“Oh?” He asks. You laugh lightly and nod, running your fingers against the back of his neck.

“Well, yea. You said you’d need at least a week with me, right?” You ask. He blinks and his smirk turns into a wide smile.

“I did say that,” he says, nodding. You smile and lean back in to him, pausing just before meeting his lips again. He chuckles and shakes his head. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday, Sweetheart.” You let out a laugh before kissing him.

Dean’s lips graze against your cheek gently and you smile, running your hands over his arms. He squeezes your waist slightly before turning you around to face him. You bite your lip and look down.

“I didn’t think you remembered,” you confess. He smiles before his lips find your forehead and you look back up at him.

“I remember everything about that night. I remember what you were wearing, what you were drinking. I remember the entire conversation on the way to the cemetery. I remember that first kiss and then you taking charge like you did. I remember taking you back to the bunker and staying up all night just talking. And the next morning, we made breakfast together and you met Sammy,” he says, his eyes soft as he watches you. You swallow hard, suddenly on the brink of tears. “And you stayed for a week.”

“And that week turned into two which turned into a month,” you say, laughing lightly. Dean smiles and his lips graze down the bridge of your nose.

“And a year later, here we are,” he says, his voice soft. You smile and close your eyes, standing there in his arms. His lips brush against your cheek before coming to rest next to your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. Your smile somehow manages to grow even wider as you lean away from him slightly. He’s watching you again, afraid he’s stepped too far. You stand up and press your lips against his in a soft, tender kiss. You feel him smile against your lips before you pull away.

“I love you too,” you tell him. He lets out a breath and you laugh lightly. “Did you think otherwise?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re too good for me. It would make more sense if you didn’t,” he says. You roll your eyes at him before running your fingers into his hair.

“I moved in with you pretty much after one night together. I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him. He smiles and nods slightly.

“Well that’s good, cause I meant what I said a year ago,” he tells you. You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m gonna marry you someday.” You laugh again before pressing your lips against his, hoping it wouldn’t take him a year to get around to that too.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader #reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #song fic #fanfiction #fanfic #spn

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