insensiblelimerence

[insensiblelimerence]

thinking about the fact that sam is canonically a biter during sex.

[insensiblelimerence]

sweet girl ⁀➷

sam winchester x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: sam and his girl get filthy and lovey late in the motel room.

warnings: explicit, a lot of smut, soft!dom sam, fingering, p in v, finger sucking, swearing, sams very very sweet. ridiculously detailed.

a/n: this is just a service to myself honestly. it’s incredibly filthy. i’m terrified to post this i’m not even sure if i like it. i also wrote this like over two months ago so this has been finished in my drafts for a while lmao

i dedicate all of my works to my super sexy writing judge @mxilkyways.

Papers and lore books scattered the table, covering the surface in so many layers that the aged wood was barely visible underneath. You stood with your thighs pressed against the side, leaning over to gather the mess, packing up for an earlyish night. 1am wasn't so bad, not compared to many other nights spent working anyway. Besides, you had something you wanted to stay up for, something you'd had on your mind. Something which you know had also been on your boyfriend Sam's, too.

It hadn't been spoken, but you knew, you could just tell by the air between you, and the way you could feel his eyes on you packing up even with your back turned. As you predicted, he eventually crossed over to the table, standing near you as he helped you sort the papers. The heat you already felt radiating off of him was intense, and your breath caught in your throat just thinking about how wonderfully overwhelming it would be to feel that heat pressed right up against your skin.

You composed yourself with a breath, trying hard not to watch his large and slender hands gather the papers, his fingers working and crooking to pick them up. Sam knew damn well how much of an effect his hands had on you, and tonight he wanted to use it to his advantage.

He purposefully let his fingers brush over your own atop the pages, his eyes flicking to your face, watching your reaction. Your skin tingles at the touch, and you smile at his attempt to tease you. You stay silent, not wanting to break first, and you continue piling your stack, keeping your eyes on the task. It doesn't take long for his fingers to dance across the pages again, this time grabbing your fingers firmly, pulling you in close to him.

You laugh, and his arms snake around your waist, an amused breath escaping his smile and fanning across your face.

"Knew you'd break first." You say, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his mess of brown hair.

"Mm, you know I just can't resist you for long, bunny," he mumbles, his head dipping so his lips meet your jaw, pressing a soft path of kisses along it. You let out a breath of laughter into his ear, basking in the warmth of his arms and chest.

He squeezes your waist, his lips moving down to your neck, smiling as you squirm in his hold from the ticklishness of his warm breath.

"I should finish cleaning up, you know. Easier for tomorrow."

"That's not what you want right now and we both know it." He says immediately into your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume. "You think I couldn't tell what you've been thinking of all day? I know you, baby. I bet you're soaking already."

Your breath hitches at his words, your fingers gripping his hair just a bit tighter, eliciting a small groan from him.

"Well you haven't been too subtle either, honey," You breathe into his ear, your breathing starting to get a little laboured from his touches.

This makes him smile into your neck, and his hands roam across your lower back and hips. His lips make a quick path of kisses up to your chin, and his eyes meet yours.

"Maybe I wanted you to know just how weak you make me." He says, his breath tickling against your lips. His soft lips graze your own, and his quirk up when you try to chase them. His fingertips dance along your back, one hand climbing up your spine into your hair as he leans in again, kissing you agonisingly light.

His lips are warm and sweet, but the gentle press of them just isn't enough, and you know it's not for him either. His kisses quickly turn more hungry and passionate, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip as he holds you close, his fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head. You instantly let him in, and his tongue makes quick work of intertwining with yours, the taste sweet and hot inside your mouth. You let out breathy noises from your open mouth, and he swallows them in his own as he starts to guide you towards the bed.

"Been on my mind all day. ‘m gonna make a mess out of you tonight, baby" He mumbles against your lips, his voice low and sultry. "My pretty girl."

The mess on the table is long left discarded, your work left half tidied as his warm hands are slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, pressing up against your bare sides. His tongue is still invading your mouth and licking against the roof of it, causing soft breaths and whines to fall from your lips. His hands simultaneously work to bring your shirt up to expose your torso. Your hands untwine from his neck, nimble fingers helping him to pull your shirt up and over your head.

He pushes you gently to step back until your knees hit the bed, and he guides you onto your back gently, silently instructing you with a nod of his head to crawl back up to the pillows. As you do, he immediately crawls over you, the mattress dipping as his palms press into the pillow on either side of your head.

Before you can get a word in he's attacking your neck, his lips nipping and sucking at your skin feverishly and you gasp at the feeling, your hands quickly finding his hair again. When he hits your sweet spot, that sensitive patch of skin beneath your ear and starts biting and kissing, you let out a whimper, instinctively pulling on his hair. He groans, his hand moving to your cheek, cupping it in his large hand firmly. When you pull again he moans, his tongue pressing flat against your skin to soothe his bites.

"God, honey—" He chokes out, his words slightly muffled through his relentless work on your neck.

You start to squirm under him, the sensation of his hot mouth on the side of your neck and his hair tickling against your face becoming too much to bear. Your hands slide down his back to the hem of his shirt, tugging desperately. He lifts his head at your silent request, and he smiles, relishing in the way you ask without saying a word.

"You want this off, huh honey?" He says a little breathlessly, his lips red and swollen from his consistent attack on your neck.

You nod, your chest heaving, breathing out a whispered 'please'. He sits back, his hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls it off quickly, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and you're in a daze, drinking in his broad shoulders and perfect skin.

He crawls over you again, his bare chest now hovering above you, and you somehow feel even hotter from the almost tangible pull you feel from his body and the sight in front of you.

You can't help but press your palms flat to his chest, just exploring his warm skin and sturdy chest with your hands, and his fingers are moving through your hair, his fingertips brushing down your neck so lightly it's ticklish, and all you want is just to feel even more of him.

You plant your lips against his jaw, leaving messy, hot kisses to his skin, your palms pressing firmly up the slope of his neck. He lets out a shaky breath into your ear, his large hands caressing your chest and torso, his fingers feeling against the lace of your bra. You arch your back as his fingers travel across your sides, giving him access to the clasp on your back. He makes quick work of it, gently pulling the garment down your arms and away from your chest, handling you so delicately, because he just wants to worship you.

Once your bra is discarded on the floor, he sits back for a minute, his large hands resting against your ribs, his eyes widening with pure admiration and lust as he stares down at your bare upper body.

"Jesus, honey. You're so beautiful." He breathes. "Can't get enough of the way you look, all pretty."

He reaches a hand up, a finger lightly tracing your collarbone, until it moves along to trace along the necklace sitting against your chest. His fingertips lightly play with the pendant, a small smile on his lips as he admires the necklace he got you so long ago sitting pretty on your neck.

His fingers travel up your neck, and suddenly he's caging you again, his chest and pretty face returning to view above you. His hands are placed on either side of your head again, and when he leans down to capture your lips with his, you try to meet him halfway, only to be yanked back by his palm accidentally planted firmly on your hair that's strewn across the pillow.

You wince, letting out a soft noise of pain followed by a laugh, and Sam's instantly in panic mode, lifting his hand and smoothing out your hair, thumbing your cheek.

"Shit— i'm so sorry, bunny, jesus— are you okay?" He rambles, and you laugh, taking one of his hands in your own to stop his fretting. Now that your hair's freed from his accidental hold, you lean up, capturing his lips with yours, the kiss is messy from your amused smile and giggles against his lips.

"'m sorry" He mumbles against your lips in between kisses.

You hum when he eventually smiles back, and you pull him down so you're head's back against the pillow, deepening the kiss.

His lips leave yours, to press an abundance of quick and sweet kisses all across your face in an attempt to soothe the accidental pain he caused. Starting at your chin, he works his way across your cheeks, nose and forehead. He lets out a breathy chuckle against your skin when your giggles become louder, your cheeks reddening, which only causes him to kiss them more, loving how hot your skin is underneath his lips.

His hands are still smoothing out your hair, his hands now cautious and somehow even more gentle as he caresses your cheekbone, his thumb and forefinger dipping down to your chin to lift your head slightly, capturing your lips again in a kiss somehow deeper than the last.

His hands cascade down your shoulders and collarbone, before settling on your breasts, his large palms covering the entirety of each of them. Slowly, he begins to knead them, squeezing and pressing his fingertips into the soft flesh. You moan softly into his mouth, your back arching into his palms.

His thumbs move across your breasts to gently circle your nipples, and you whine, the slight pressure making you shiver. He presses the pads of his thumbs a little harder, before his palms caress the entirety of your chest again, his lips leaving yours to nip a path down your neck, his tongue flattening against your pulse point, just feeling the rapid pace of it. He kisses down your collarbone, the sound of both of your laboured breathing filling the air.

"Sam..." You breathe his name out desperately, his hair now tickling against your chin.

Finally, his mouth dips down to your chest, his lips dragging across your skin until he takes your nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking as his tongue licks across it slowly, fully enveloping you. You moan at the feeling, grabbing onto him tighter as his hand works on your other breast simultaneously. You cry out when his teeth nip at your nipple, and he smoothes the sting with his tongue.

"You're unreal, honey," He breathes against your chest, his warm breath tickling against your sensitive skin. He continues sucking with an intensity, until you're squirming, your legs shifting against his, in a silent, physical plea for more.

Sam would give you anything you want in a heartbeat, especially when you're like this, all soft and needy underneath him. His hands and mouth dip down, his palms and fingertips running down your ribs and stomach, his eyes locking with your own as he reaches the waistband of your jeans, silently asking for permission. You nod immediately, your chest heaving in anticipation. His lips quirk at your desperation, and his nimble fingers work at the button and zipper.

"Lift your hips up for me, baby," He says softly, and you oblige, lifting them so he can carefully pull down your jeans, slowly pulling them down your legs until they're off, and lying in a heap on the floor. He kneels in between your legs, a hand grazing against your lower belly, and your skin shivers underneath the touch, the cold air against your clothed core making you hiss lightly.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, his thumb rubbing against the lace. His eyes flick up to you.

"This okay, sweetheart?" He questions. His constant checks for consent and permission despite how many times you've done this never fail to make you just turn into a puddle right there on the sheets.

"Mhm" You nod, a gentle smile on your lips, as he smiles too, hooking his fingers on his other hand underneath now too, and you lift your hips to help him slowly pull your panties off your legs, discarding them along with your jeans.

His hands make a path from your ankles up to your knees, his palms covering the entirety of your knee caps as he gently spreads your legs apart, his eyes glued in awe at the glistening sight between them.

"Fuck, baby, I knew it. You're soaked." He lifts a hand, running his index finger through your folds, and you let out a breathy hiss at the sensation.

"So wet for me honey, god—" He breathes, and suddenly he's hovering over you again, his large palm cupping your core, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your hips bucking up into him.

When he starts to rub your clit you mewl, and his soft voice is in your ear, his fingers gently caressing the hair on the top of your head as his forearm rests beside it.

"Shh, honey, doing so good f'me, shh..."

He presses his forehead against yours, his soft breath fanning against your face as the pads of his fingers gently circle your clit, the pressure firm yet soft.

Only once you're squirming and knocking your knee against his leg do his fingers slide lower through your folds, his fingers prodding at your entrance. His index finger circles it as he looks into your eyes, making sure he has your full attention on his as he slowly pushes a finger into you.

"Sam...hah—” You whisper out his name, a sharp gasp following as his finger gently plunges in deep, until it disappears almost entirely to the knuckle. You let out a shaky moan when his long finger slowly slides out again, and you whine at the loss of it, which is cut short by a small cry as he plunges in again, a little faster this time.

"Good girl, mm...look at you, so wrecked just from one finger....I wonder if...?" As he trails off, he adds a second finger into you, watching as your eyes squeeze shut tighter, groaning softly. He lets out an approving hum, his fingers slowly crooking and curling deep inside of you.

You cry out even louder than the last when his fingers brush against your sweet spot, and your moans get even more whiny as he repeatedly nudges it more firmly. You feel yourself getting close, as you flutter around his long fingers.

"Look at me, baby." He breathes out, and when you open your eyes, they immediately lock on his above you, blown out with adoration and lust.

"There's my girl. I wanna see you come for me, sweet girl." He says softly, his voice rough with arousal.

You nod, your foreheads still pressed together, your expression contorted in sweet pleasure as you whine and gasp under him.

When he crooks his fingers in that perfect way again you tense up, your whole body washing over with pure pleasure, down to your extremities. You cry out his name in desperate whimpers, his smile watching you come only making you flutter around his fingers harder.

He gently slows his movements as you relax against the mattress, carefully extracting his fingers from you, watching your expression closely, taking in the way you whine at the loss of him.

Once his fingers are exposed again do you both take in the way his fingers are soaked with your slick, practically glistening. He smirks, his eyes flicking up from his fingers to yours. Once he's sure he's got your attention, he sensually brings his fingers up to his mouth, letting the underside of them slide along his tongue before he wraps his lips around them. He closes his eyes and hums and moans in pleasure, as he licks and savours the taste of you on his fingers.

Your jaw falls slack in a silent moan at the sight, what he's doing in front of you just so incredibly hot you're sure you can probably come again just by watching him. He doesn't stop, wanting to savour and taste every last morsel of you on his fingers. You sit up, taking his wrist in your hand, pulling his fingers out of his mouth before you're guiding them into your own, your eyes looking up, locked on his.

You relish in the way he lets out a choked breath, a soft moan falling from his pretty mouth as he watches your lips wrap around his fingers, dragging them fully into your mouth, maintaining eye contact as you suck on them.

"Jesus, honey," He breathes, his eyes widened as you let your tongue slide along his fingers, tasting the last remnants of your arousal on them.

His thumb brushes against your jaw, mesmerized by you. Eventually, you give his fingers one last long lick, before pulling your mouth away from them. He's in a daze, fully captivated by just how unbelievably hot you are, until he's pushing you down onto your back again, quickly shedding himself of his jeans till he’s bare. He sighs at the relief of freeing himself from the tightness of his jeans, the sight of how hard he is making your mouth go dry. His skin is hot and flush against you as he settles and murmurs above you, his voice heavy.

"So fucking sexy, baby, jesus," He caresses your soft hair with one hand, while his other his trailing down your body, from your collarbone down to your hips, before he's reaching for himself in between the two of you.

He slides the head along your folds, and you hiss, feeling as he glides so easily from just how insanely wet you are.

"Ready, honey?" He asks, watching closely for your response. You nod quickly and desperately, whispering back.

"Please, Sammy."

"Okay, I got you, honey. I got you." He murmurs back, lining himself up as he slowly pushes into you. You gasp at the feeling of how he stretches you out perfectly, and just how good he feels inside of you. You whimper softly as he continues to slide in slowly, listening to his groans above you.

"Fuck, Sam— you're so deep." You breathe out as he pushes the entire way in.

"Yeah, baby? You feel me all the way up here?" He moves his hand, his fingertips lightly pressing against your stomach.

You gasp at the added pressure, your fingers clawing into his broad back. He lets out a breathy chuckle, leaning down to press gentle kisses to your face, waiting for you to adjust to the stretch of him.

"You okay, honey?"

"Mhm," You nod, your forehead brushing against his, your fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips make their way to yours, capturing them in a soft and loving kiss.

"I love you," He murmurs in between kisses. You melt, lifting a hand to his cheek.

"I love you too. So much." You mumble against his lips, and he kisses you again, all sweet and loving.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," You breathe, nodding. Slowly, he starts to pull out, until only the tip is still inside of you, before sliding back in at a taunting speed, and you can feel everything.

You moan loudly into his ear, your arms wrapping even tighter around him. His hips move against you at the perfect pace, lewd sounds filling the room.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. You like how I fill you up, hm? Like how I stretch you out so good, honey?"

You moan at his words, somehow getting even wetter at how filthy he can speak to you when you're together like this. You curse, your brows furrowed in ecstasy, nodding pathetically against him. He speeds up his movements, gripping your hips to angle them in a way that lets him bury into you even deeper.

When he presses against that sweet spot, you cry out, loudly, your head thrown back in pleasure against the pillows. He hits it again and again, and you feel your release creep up on you, your walls fluttering and clenching around him even more intensely, which makes him moan into your ear, hissing in pleasure.

"Oh, Sam— Sam" You breathe out, your fingers tapping at his shoulder.

"I know, baby, I know. Come for me, wanna feel you." His voice is gravelly and breathless in your ear, and when he slows right down, you mewl, and you look like you're about to burst into tears. You cry out and press your head to his when he plunges back into you, deeper and more forceful than his previous ministrations. When he hits that spongy spot inside of you again, that does it.

You cry out loudly, your body tensing up once again, your walls fluttering violently around him, your body shaking as you ride out your release.

"Fuck— wanna fill you up, honey," He mumbles as his hips stutter against yours.

"Mm— please" You manage to breathe out as you're wrapped up in your high.

Feeling you orgasm around him is what pushes him over the edge, and you feel his release, the warmth of his cum coating your walls. He fucks into you a few more times, riding out his own high and pushing his release further into you.

His warm body collapses against yours, and you let out a breath, a euphoric smile on your face. He buries his head into your neck, and your hands rub against his back, feeling as it heaves and shudders.

"So good, honey, god, just perfect." He manages to rasp out through his laboured breaths. He lifts his head, locking eyes with you, his expression full of love. He brushes the hair that's stuck to your forehead away from your face, resting his hand against your cheek, leaning down to capture your lips with his once more. The kiss is long and sweet, and you can tell he's pouring all of his love for you into the gesture.

"Can I pull out, pretty girl?" He mumbles against your soft lips, and when you hum in approval, he slowly pulls out of you, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. He looks down in between your legs, his lips kicking up into a smile.

"God, sweetheart, I did make a mess of you." He huffs out a laugh, his hand caressing your thigh gently. His head dips down to press a tender kiss to your knee, and his hands continue to rub at your thighs and hips.

"Let me clean you up, baby," He murmurs. But before he disappears to the bathroom, he's leaning over you again, his hand moving to press against your cheek, his thumb rubbing underneath your eye and along the slope of your nose lovingly.

"My sweet girl," he murmurs, almost under his breath. "I love you, honey."

[insensiblelimerence]

ao3 turns 15 today

reblog if youre older than ao3

[insensiblelimerence]

[insensiblelimerence]

SAM WINCHESTER — HANDS

PART ONE / ???

[insensiblelimerence]

[insensiblelimerence]

₊˚⊹♡ in a week | sam winchester x reader

based on the song in a week by hozier

a/n - i’ve been wanting to write this fic for SO long and i know it’s kinda short but i’m happy with how it turned out!! in a week is my favourite hozier song and honestly one of my favourite songs of all time and aaagh i just had to write something for it, i hope you like it!!

cws - fem!reader, 1.4k, character death, fatal injuries, blood, process of dying, hurt/comfort, mentions of heaven

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Sam knew as soon as he hit the floor that he wouldn’t be getting up again.

It was strange, how the cold of the air made his blood seem almost hot against his skin, staining his rapidly paling flesh with a deep red he’d seen far too many times it was a wonder it hadn’t become his favourite colour. His favourite colour was actually green, natural and calming, far from the monsters and grime of his day to day life, closer to the comfort of his brother’s eyes and his own whenever he looked in the mirror and knew that he was okay. The damp grass beneath him was green, and though he wasn’t okay, having her at his side somehow made it all alright.

There was blood on her too, not too dissimilar to his own injuries. They’d both been in the clutches of death far too many times for the feeling of the tiredness that had started to cling to their bones not to be similar, but it was the first time Sam had ever felt comfortable over the whole thing.

With her laid at his side, it felt almost peaceful.

“Come here, sweetheart,” his arm lifted to tuck around her and that was enough for him to wince at the movement through he just grit his teeth through it until her body was pressed up against his, slotted together amongst the damp grass and the flowers of the early spring nature. “That’s it, there we go.”

It had been a while since they’d both gotten to the floor. There had been a silent understanding in the fact that neither of them would return to their feet, that they would spend their final moments by each others side with the bugs and the dirt. Sam could list numerous times that he had been fearful of her life, had done everything he could to save her, because he simply couldn’t live without her, couldn’t let her die alone.

Bodies held against each other, blood mixed and soaked into the earth, they weren’t alone.

“Stars are out,” her voice trembled, far too breathy, but she still sounded so pretty. The same voice that whispered in his ear to wake him up and the last thing he heard before he fell asleep. Sam had always admired foreshadowing and the beauty behind it. “Look, it’s—” her breath stuttered on her next inhale and his hand easily found hers, cold skin pressed to cold skin, clinging with what little strength they both had, a silent comfort, encouragement. “—it’s Orion’s Belt.” She finished, and though Sam couldn’t quite make out the individual constellations through his blurred vision, he was happy to enlighten her regardless.

“It’s pretty,” he murmured, blinking up at the beads of light that blurred and warped in his vision, before his head tilted to look at her instead. Even as his vision broke down slightly, he could picture her features. The shape of her nose, her lips, the colour of her eyes, eyelashes that tickled her cheeks as she blinked or laughed or smiled at him. It was enough to bring a smile to his face and he leaned in to kiss her temple. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her breathing hitched, a wet catch in her chest, and he didn’t need to see the tears in her eyes to know that she’d started crying. Sam had known her for so long that she had become a part of him, her soul intertwined with his in golden string, so he knew all of her mannerisms and sounds. The tears weren’t for panic or pain, something closer along the lines of contempt, tears that settled with acceptance.

“I love you,” the words practically heaved out of her chest and her fingers trembled in his as she struggled to tighten her grip much. He had felt in real time as the strength in her body bled out along with the crimson that stained her clothed and skin. It would have been frightening if not for the way his own strength had left him, evaporating with every heavy exhale. “Sam, I—” another struggled breath, another significantly weakened squeeze to her hand. “—you’re my home.”

Sam didn’t realise that his fingers had started going numb until he lifted his free hand up to cup the side of her face, a cheek usually flushed with colour now just paled hidden beneath his palm as he held her. And despite the way his vision blurred, with tears that time, he smiled at her. It took a lot more effort than he liked though he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, lips soft and shaky breaths as he kissed her, pouring all of his affection and feelings into her mouth along with their last kiss. “I love you.”

When Sam laid back against the grass again, he knew he wouldn’t sit up again.

There was so much he could have said, so many words and kisses he could have given her in that moment, but as he glanced down at her once more, felt the heaving of her chest with each breath, it all felt unspoken. He was comfortable to lay at her side, he felt loved. Sam had often wondered over the years how he would finally be taken out, but in the arms of his lover in a field of grass under a pretty sky was better than anything he could have imagined. He couldn’t have pictured a calmer or more secure way than sealing his last breaths in the touch of his lover.

Their flesh was colder, paler, and if he had the energy in him he supposed he would have started shivering. The night was cold, a remainder of the biting winter freeze that was slowly being melted by the spring. Whenever the sun came up everything would warm, though Sam wasn’t sure if he’d see the next sunrise. His heartbeat was slowing, he knew hers was too.

“I’ll find you,” he promised softly, words more breath than voice, blinking through tears that felt hot on his cold cheeks as he struggled to squeeze her fingers. “If we don’t get there together I’ll find you, honey.”

A soft sniffle at his side. “You’d better, Winchester.”

Sam smiled, wet and shaking, tears fell when he couldn’t squeeze her hand anymore.

He supposed that it would take some time for them to be found, in a week or so. The field wasn’t really near anywhere populated. They’d be accustomed to the local wildlife and the bugs in the ground before their bodies were discovered, but there was a comfort in knowing she’d be at his side through it all.

Hours, they must have laid there in each others arms for, or years, Sam couldn’t really tell. Her hand was still tucked away in his by the time the sky started to glow orange and it made him smile softly, a final sunrise. They’d spent countless mornings on the road or on cases together, stole small moments away to appreciate the sight.

“Look, sweetheart,” he breathed, a struggle in itself to tilt his head towards hers. “Look at that.”

Only once he’d blinked through the film of tears the sight of her eyelids instead of her irises was unmistakable. Curled into his side, her hand tucked into his, she looked like she had done every morning at his side for the better part of his life. Only she was cold and pale, and her chest wasn’t moving anymore.

“Honey?”

She stayed still, a perfect imitation of beauty at his side, tucked amongst flowers and green grass, she looked so pretty.

The sound that left him was wet and shuddery, though somewhere in his mind he was thankful that she had left first, she could hold the door open for him.

With what little strength he had left Sam curled on his side, her body completely pressed up against his as his head dropped, forehead pressed to hers, hand still and discreet in hers. A deep breath left his lungs, and they didn’t expand again.

Their bodies were found in a week, at home with each other amongst the flowers.

[insensiblelimerence]

Everything Has Changed

sam winchester x fem!reader

5.1k | fluff

summary: the love story between you and sam winchester, starting only at the age of six.

*buckle in everyone, this is the longest fic i’ve ever written

age six:

you didn’t want to be here. you wanted to be back home in massachusetts, sitting on the living room couch and watching morning cartoons with your mother.

but that would never happen again, not after what happened last week. not after that evil man with black eyes broke into your home and killed your mom while you hid in your bedroom closest, hearing everything while silent tears rolled down your cheeks.

now your father had taken you to south dakota, rambling on and on about the nice old man named bobby who would be watching you for a while. you didn’t want to stay with bobby. you wanted your mom, and your dad hauling every one of your belongings and shipping you off to another state was not helping your six year old brain cope with the pain.

looking out the window as your dad drove up a long driveway, the only thing you could see for miles was cars; junk cars to be exact. when the car finally rumbled to a stop, the home in front of it was anything but the one you had grown accustomed to.

your hand was clutched tight in your fathers as he rang the door bell. the disney princess suitcase by your feet was the only thing you could look at as the door swung open and your dad conversed with who you assumed was bobby. the older man seemed nice enough. his accent sounded funny, and the bowl of ice cream that greeted you when you walked in the kitchen had you enjoying this house even more.

when your dad kissed your head and told you he’d be gone for a few days, you didn’t know what to think. you were so young that the notion of your dad going out and hunting the demon that killed your mom was completely out of your headspace. you just thought he had obligations with work and was needed away for a couple of weeks.

those couple of weeks turned into two months. soon those two months turned into six. it dawned on you at such a young age that your father was probably not coming back, that both of your parents left you in the span of a week and you were stuck with a total stranger.

it was an awful thing for a mere kindergartener to comprehend, and it absolutely pained bobby to watch that realization slowly slip into your face day by day as you sat on the porch, awaiting for your dads non existing arrival.

when the seventh month mark had hit, the rumble of a car was heard from the front of the house. an excited smile lit up your face. your dad was finally back. after so long he was here to come get you and take you to wherever he has been for all these months.

the shear disappointment on your face when you realized it wasn’t your dad was palpable. but the confusion that followed it when a strange man and two young boys came into view was even stronger.

the taller of the two children looked to be a couple years older than you; maybe ten or something around there. his face was stoic and the way his steely gaze swept over you— clutched to bobby’s side, was something that made you nervous.

when you looked over to what you’d assumed was his younger brother, you were instantly drawn in to how this boy was a complete 180 from his brother. he seemed more timid, shy in how he walked with his head down and lip drawn between his teeth, gnawing at the skin as he looked up to switch his gaze from bobby, to you.

for as long as he could, sam would go on and on about how he fell in love with you from the very first time he saw you. that breezy day in late ‘89 was the start of his never ending admiration and love for the girl who he’d met on bobby’s porch at the young age of six.

that day was the start of a whole new beginning. who knew what would’ve happened if john winchester didn’t drop off his two sons that day. no one could guess if you and sam would somehow find a way to each other. but the universe sure forced you together at a young age, and you would be forever greatful for that.

age nine:

the wind blew back your hair, rustling the trees in the tree line as you and sam sat on the grass, silently reading.

it had been three years since your dad left you at bobby’s, and after about a year, you’d realized that he wasn’t coming back. it was hard at first, the tears didn’t stop coming for at least a week after the realization set in. but you had bobby, who’d stepped up and been more of a father than your own ever could’ve.

there was also the factor of sam and dean winchester, but they were a little more complicated than your father/daughter relationship with bobby.

dean winchester was like an older brother to you. someone who annoyed you like hell but would always be there to protect you when needed. he cared about the people he loved more than he could breathe, and you were grateful to have someone who would always be there for you.

sam, he was a little different then his brother. while dean was four years older, you two were the same age. you always felt a different bond with sam, something that was less brotherly and more shy smiles and rosy cheeks.

you’d harboured a crush on the youngest winchester boy, you just didn’t know what to do with it.

that crush didn’t blow away with the wind, it stayed while you sat side by side with sam, knees brushing as you both turned the pages of your corresponding books.

you didn’t know what to do. hell you were only a kid, merely in the fourth grade and not even double digits yet. the relationship you shared with sam was too precious to you for it to just be ruined by your stupid blabbing mouth. so you kept quiet, simply enjoying the time you spent with sam as friends and hoping that someday this crush would go away.

“have you ever wondered what it’s like to be an adult?” sam’s question startled you from your reading, the silence between you two going on for so long that his voice was quite jarring.

softly closing your back and moving over to face sam, you looked up at the blowing leaves on the trees, truly pondering your friends question. “i don’t know.” you responded after a long while, looking back down at sam and his expectant eyes. “i’d like to think that being an adult would be better, but then i think of my dad, and your dad even, and i wonder if being a kid forever would be so bad.”

you were young, but you weren’t stupid. you saw how aggressive sam and dean’s father was, you saw all the arguments him and bobby had about adult stuff you couldn’t understand. though, most definitely you understood the cowardly actions of your dad running away, leaving his adult duties of being a dad and dumping his own child with another. you vowed to never be like him, to never leave the people you love behind.

it seemed as though sam was truly thinking about your words, really diving deep into what you meant and if his ideologies aligned with yours.

fiddling with his fingers, sam looked down at his lap, biting his lip as he always did when he was nervous. “well i’m just wondering because dean told me he had his first kiss, and when i asked him when it was my turn, he said when i was older. how old do we have to be to have our first kiss Y/N?”

sam’s question caught you by surprise. you never really thought about the notions of a first kiss. sure you’ve thought of kissing sam before, but that was just the crush talking. it would never happen, and sam just asked from a place of curiosity and wonder, not because he wanted to kiss you.

“maybe junior high? i’m really not sure.” your head had been down while speaking, picking shreds of grass as you responded to sam. though, when you looked up, you were met with the feeling of sam’s lips on yours, and your whole world completely stopped.

it wasn’t a long kiss, just a second long peck. but even then, the feeling of sam gently and nervously pressing his lips to yours had blood rushing to your cheeks and a weird fluttery feeling in your gut.

you hadn’t spoken yet, and the mixed in with the wide eyed expression on your face started to make sam worry. “oh god, i’m so sorry Y/N. i should’ve asked if that was okay first. i’m a gentleman i swear! dad and dean taught me better. please don’t be mad at me, please.” sam’s ramblings had a quick smile spreading on your face.

even after something so innocent as a quick, childlike kiss on the lips, sam still worried for your well being, for how you felt in all of it. his strong need to always make sure you were okay made you feel so comfortable with him. even though you were so young, you remembered feeling happy and content about that moment many years later.

sam winchester innocently stole your first kiss, and you wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

age thirteen:

middle school sucked, and you were fully prepared to beg bobby to let you be homeschooled if it continued to be like this.

the people in your school weren’t nice at all. making jokes about how you lived on the town dump and how your father was a drunk weirdo. though, when stupid clara riggs found out bobby wasn’t even your dad, she made it her mission to go around and tell everyone that your own parents hated you so much, they left you on the doorstep of the first ‘trailer trash’ they could find.

her words made you angry. bobby wasn’t a drunk or trailer trash, he was far from it. and so what if he wasn’t your father? he took that position when your own dad couldn’t, and you would like to see the look on clara’s face when your whole grade found out her dad was cheating on her mom with their babysitter.

though they say the words of a middle schooler still stings, and they had bobby finding you curled up in your bed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you clung onto your little bunny plushie.

he tried to make you feel better, telling you that kids could be mean sometimes and the best thing you could do was ignore them. but you wouldn’t listen, and bobby knew that a visit from sam and dean was long overdue.

you hadn’t seen your two best friends in almost six months. john had them hauled around half of the united states, putting dean on his first solo hunts and allowing sam to finally join when he and dean went out. they’d missed you though. even dean who’d recently turned seventeen was missing some time with his built in little sister.

a couple of hours later, a knock on your door interrupted the silent tears streaming down your face. you were fully prepared to tell bobby to go away, but when the door opened slightly and revealed a lanky sam winchester in it’s frame, you couldn’t resist springing up and running to give him a hug.

the force at which you ran at sam had him stumbling to steady himself, arms going around your waist and socked feet slightly slipping against the hard wood. he didn’t want you to fall, and if you did, he’d rather himself break your fall then risk you having a nasty bruise.

when he finally steadied the both of you, sam reacted in hugging you back. the feeling of your face in the crook of his neck had him feeling at peace. all he could do was grip onto you tighter, hoping that his presence would help with whatever pain you felt.

as he pulled away, sam moved the hair away from your face without a second thought, not thinking anything of it as he wanted to properly see your face. “what’s got you so upset, ladybug?” the nickname came from a hike that you and sam went on when you were eleven. a ladybug landing on your finger and a bright smile adorning your face right after.

sam would say that was the most beautiful you’ve ever looked. but hell, you look beautiful every time he looks at you.

when you were through with explaining what had made you upset, sam could feel himself garnering sympathy and anger towards your situation. he felt bad, knowing you did not deserve any of those words said to you for they were far from the truth. though he was also angry because clara riggs had no right to talk. her family was more dysfunctional than his and that was really saying something.

“hey don’t listen to her.” sam soothed, hands no rubbing up and down your back to calm you down. “she’s always been cruel, her words should mean nothing to you.”

they did mean something to you, but you didn’t want to worry sam with all your constant worrying. so you just smiled, nodding at sam and half heartedly agreeing, you knew that this was something you’d have to get over on your own, that your dad left you with bobby and your mom was dead. but it was starting to get better, and you knew you had to thank bobby, dean, and especially sam for it.

“c’mon,” sam smiled, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “dean’s dying to see you. he’s been dying to take you on a ride in the impala now that he has his license.”

age seventeen:

high school had gone by in a blur, and suddenly, you were in your senior year. life didn’t feel real. it didn’t feel like you were about to graduate and move onto university in a mere couple of months, but you also accepted this change, knowing that it was good for you.

“bobby can you stop worrying, i’ll be fine.” the older man had busied himself with helping you sort out all your back to school essentials, fussing over your backpack and what clothes you were going to wear. it didn’t matter that you didn’t have a mom or dad, for bobby was basically a two in one with how he handled clothing emergencies and the practical stuff.

huffing, bobby straightened out your jacket one more time, stepping back and finally taking a good look. “god Y/N you are so grown up. i can just picture your tiny little legs running around these halls, making a mess of all my books.”

scowling, you playfully threw a throw pillow at him. “it’s not my fault you left your ancient mythology book right on the table. who knew john needed it for some pesky siren.” the look in bobby’s eyes were deadpan, almost like he was daring you to finish your sentence. “i did, you idjit. that’s why i left it there in the first place.”

“well,” you sighed, leaning against the front door. “we live and we learn.” bobby just grumbled as he shoed you out the door, rambling on about how if you didn’t leave now you’d be late to your last, first day of high school.

the day had gone by pretty quickly, uneventful classes that just had teachers rambling on about college and how now that you were in grade 12, you had to smarten up and focus on your grades.

you were focussing all right. focused on helping bobby with a gnarly werewolf who’d hopefully be the first creature that you’d get to shoot.

you’d known about the supernatural since you were ten, an bobby had you training with a gun since you were fourteen. he still didn’t let you frequently go on hunts, only allowing if it was something small and he’d know you’d be safe.

that didn’t matter though, because at least you got a taste of how it felt. it was nice, but you knew that college was definitely something that you’d want to explore, and it was great that bobby was on board with it.

the man didn’t want you getting swept into the hunter life, explaining how getting out as fast as you can would be the best scenario for you. you understood, agreeing with bobby that getting a couple hunts in before you left wasn’t such a bad thing.

unlike you, sam wasn’t as fortunate to have such an understanding parental figure as you did.

he explained to you how is father was hell bent on sam staying with him and dean, not leaving the family business until their mothers killer was avenged.

you knew sam didn’t want that. he expressed to you so many times how he dreamed of going to university, getting out of the hunter life so he could live normally for once. you were supportive of him, silently cursing john for his terrible ways of treating his sons.

so walking into your bedroom to see sam winchester sat on your bed watching buffy the vampire slayer was not something you were surprised by. him running away from his dads antics had been happening more often lately, and you really didn’t blame him. john was getting even more out of hand then he already was, and the mentions of sam leaving for university wasn’t helping.

his head turned as you closed the door behind you, eyes softening to that golden hazel that you could never resist. but sam looked so sad, and you wanted to help him for all those times that he’s been by your side wiping your tears.

“sammy, what’s wrong? was it your dad again?” all he could do was shake his head no, sniffling slightly while his hand moved up to whip his tear stained cheeks.

you softly sat down beside him, hand instantly finding his and squeezing, letting him know you were there. “it’s me Y/N, it’s all me.” his words had you cocking your head in confusion, but as he continued, you felt your heart break even more. “dad wants me to follow him and dean, but i don’t want to! anytime i bring it up he gets so mad, and i can see how upset it makes dean. if i leave, dad said i’d be disappointing the family. i don’t want to disappoint my brother Y/N. ever.”

as he continued to speak, you could feel your heart go from breaking to falling completely out of your chest. the pressure that john winchester was putting on his young son was unacceptable. sam wanting to go to college was normal, and telling him that him leaving would disappoint his family was absolutely vile and disgusting.

“sam,” you whispered, head leaning on his shoulder so he could feel some semblance of comfort. “you have every right to want to pursue a higher education. dean will come around eventually, you know that. me and you both know that your dad is very stuck in his ways, but if you want this to happen then you’ll fucking make it happen. am i clear sam winchester?”

his laugh brought a smile to your face. sam being happy made you happy. and knowing that you made him laugh after he was so torn up and sad inside made you feel a warm and fuzzy feeling.

“trust me, i know how crystal clear you are.” his giggle died down as a contemplative look dawned on his face. “i even have a slight idea of where i want to go.”

humming slightly, you heard sam sigh as he continued. “i think i want to go to stanford, for law.” lifting your head from his shoulder, you cracked a smile as you jokingly punched him on the shoulder. “oh sammy, you pretentious snob. you’ll fit in there perfectly.”

“not as perfect as you at clown college.”

“okay now your pushing your luck, winchester.”

age twenty three:

those crucial moments in yours and sam’s story has always been something that made you smile. even now, when you haven’t seen the younger winchester boy in almost five years.

the last time you saw him, you were helping him move into his stanford dorm. john was absolutely out of the picture, and dean was still wound up over the whole thing. the only person that sam knew would help him and guide him through the day was you.

you’d gave him a massive hug, kissing him on the cheek and reminding him that he would do great things, that you would always support him.

as you left, a single tear had raised to your water line. but you wouldn’t let it fall. sam was finally doing what he always wanted to achieve. leaving the family business and living a normal life. if that meant not seeing him for a while then so be it.

though, these past five years have been torture without him.

you saw dean here and there. though the last time you crossed paths was when him and john were working a case down near your college campus in seattle washington, and even that was around two years ago.

dean was doing fine. he was coping with sam’s departure and seemed to really get a good grip on the whole hunting thing. it was like there was no time between then and the last time you two saw each other. it was like old times, laughter ringing through your small apartment and dean still being a major pain in your ass.

but now you were twenty three, in grad school and still living in washington state. your apartment was small, but manageable, and the job you had working as a barista in a coffee shop down the street from where you lived was going fine.

your life was doable, normal with no monsters lurking around. and you felt very content with that.

well, of course, as stories go, that was until dean came around calling your home phone and asking you for help with a case him and sam were working on.

yes, sam. he’d come back into the hunting scene around a year ago. you weren’t completely out of the loop, you still kept in touch with some hunters here and there. then there was bobby who was always on you, calling your phone every week to have your weekly gossip hour as he liked to call it.

all you knew was the sam was hunting again and john winchester had passed about two months ago. you hadn’t seen the older man in well over six years, and you weren’t completely fond of how he treated his boys, but that didn’t mean you were going to speak ill of the dead.

even if the dead was a borderline abusive dickwad.

now, you found yourself waiting out in front of your apartment building, bags in hand as you anticipated the familiar sound of the roaring chevy impala.

you didn’t know how to feel. you hadn’t seen dean in almost two years. hell, you hadn’t seen sam in five, and you knew all these nervous feelings were because of him.

when you were a kid, you always waited on the day that your crush on sam would go away. you wanted to view him like you viewed dean; like a brother. you knew how complicated things would get if you confessed to sam and he didn’t like you back. but even now, those feelings still rumbled in your gut, and you were hoping and praying seeing same again wouldn’t dredge them back up.

as the car pulled in front of you, and you saw sam’s figure in the front seat, those feelings sprung up your throat like a weekend bender when you were nineteen. he looked even more beautiful. hair grown out longer, face more mature. sam had grown into a fine looking young man, and you were cursing yourself for even thinking such thoughts.

the car ride to indiana wasn’t terrible. you and dean talked for a bit, caught up on all the things that had happened in the past two years. sam on the other hand was more quite. he chimed in once in a while, not shying away from saying hello to you or smiling at you through the rearview mirror, but you knew he was waiting for a time more intimate. a time were he could look you face to face and indulge in a five year long due conversation.

dean finally stopped outside a gas station in the heart of this towns square, letting you and sam know that he was getting more road food and stocking up on gas.

as dean disappeared into the store, you felt a slight tug on your arm. turning around you were instantly ambushed by the feeling of sam’s arms wrapping around you and his body eclipsing yours. he hadn’t hugged you this tight in such a long time, and the feeling had you so overwhelmed with joy that a couple of tears slipped onto your cheeks.

“how’ve you been, ladybug?” the nickname had you gasping out a sob, not that it was a sad one, you were so happy that tears of happiness had fallen and you were full on laugh crying into sam’s chest.

dean usually took an abnormally long time in the gas stations, so you and sam prioritized on that time to catch up on all the things you both missed. he told you about california, you told him about washington. he mentioned all the crazy things he got up to and you told him about all the late night tv show binges you’ve done in the years.

you two had been so caught up in talking, that when the family of three passed behind sam, you didn’t even think much of it. that was until you noticed how familiar the father looked.

oh god, no, it couldn’t be. walking behind sam was your dad, rocking a full blown wife and a daughter, who couldn’t be any older than thirteen.

that’s where he went for all those years? he started a whole new fucking family? you just happened to be so repulsive that your own goddamn father couldn’t stand to be around you? he had to fuck off to indiana and get a whole new family to replace you and your mom.

the world felt like it was spinning. you didn’t even notice sam’s confused glance, or his widened eyes as he finally realized what you had seen. all you remembered was the feeling of his hand on your back, guiding you into the backseat of the impala. he was telling you that everything was okay, but you didn’t know if you believed him or not.

dean coming back and driving to a motel was all a blur. the next thing you remember, sam was helping you walk to a bed, sitting you down and going to grab you a glass of water.

he was worried. you hadn’t moved a muscle since you saw your dad. it was justified though, for you hadn’t seen him in almost seventeen years. he’d walked out on you, and now you had to see him with a whole new family. sam couldn’t even begin to comprehend the pain you were going through.

all sam could do was sit with you. hand rubbing your back as the other mindlessly twirled with a strand of your hair.

dean raved on about how he was going to go find your dad and beat his ass, though sam assumed he was going to give up after maybe ten minutes and end up plastered at a bar.

“oh sweet girl.” you heard sam murmur, moving his arm so he could allow you to rest your head on his shoulder. “why can’t you see how perfect you are? why can’t you see that your dad leaving doesn’t define you.”

quietly sniffling to yourself, you nuzzled your face in sam’s chest even more. “but it does.” you mumbled, playing with a lose thread on sam’s coat. “ever since i was a kid that’s all anyone could talk about. how my dad left me cause he didn’t love me anymore. well guess what? now i know it’s true.”

sam abruptly standing up had you almost falling sideways onto the bed. his hand blocking your head from the fall wasn’t what surprised you, but the anger that was radiating off of him.

“goddammit Y/N. your dad is a jackass, plain and simple. he left and with that left the most amazing and intelligent woman i have ever met. i’ve been so enthralled by you since the day i fucking met you when we were six. i’ve loved you since we shared our first kiss when we were nine, since i wiped your tears at thirteen, and especially when you encouraged me to follow my dreams when we were seventeen.”

“you have been by my side for ever major moment in my life, and i would be a fool to not tell you now how much i am in love with you-“ sam didn’t have time to finish, for you were leaping off the bed and smashing your lips on his. promptly cutting off his sentence.

the two of you hadn’t shared a kiss since you were single digits, but something about sam’s lips and touch felt so familiar. all of the pent up emotions and feelings went into the kiss. years and years of holding back and keeping each other at an arms length was finally being thrown out the window.

both you and sam had been waiting for this moment since you were kids, and you were glad to say that the fluttery feeling you had in your chest whenever he was near wouldn’t be going away soon.

all your days, you’d known sam’s face, and for the rest of your days you still would. sam winchester was your constant, your blinding light of hope in the shit storm that was life.

you possibly couldn’t ask for anything better.

[insensiblelimerence]

castiel's confused head tilt rb if u agree

[insensiblelimerence]

౨✶ৎ sam winchester bots — batch one !

[ warm brown jacket ] — based off of my fic, warm brown jacket . teaser... ; he hates to see you so bothered and shivering a little in the cold night air. finally, as you approach the impala, he slips off his own jacket; big, brown, and warm. you don't look at him until he nudges you wordlessly, gently, holding the jacket to you. he’s got that pretty, borderline awkward smile when he’s trying to be subtly sweet. he doesn’t want to make you feel self-conscious about the mess on your clothes, but he wants to ease your discomfort.

[ you'd dance with me? ]. based off of my fic, you'd dance with me? . teaser... ; “you okay?” he finally asks. “he didn’t deserve you, you know. you deserve a whole lot better than that ass.” i’d be so good to them, he thinks. it had sucked to see you walk away with that man. it was worse to see you get stood up like that.

[ cramped car ] — based off of my fic, some other time . teaser... ; “c’mon,” sam urges, hoping that you being in his lap doesn't make you uncomfortable. it's the best option for right now, though he's already unsure how he'll survive it. having you, the person he's been in love with for who knows how long, in his lap isn't going to be easy. all he'll be able to think about is having you there more. having you there again, maybe placing his hands on your hips or around your waist. but today he'll only do what you're okay with.

[insensiblelimerence]

Traveler ➹

Pairing: Ellie Williams x f!reader

Synopsis: You were supposed to know better, but here you were, maybe two hours max from turning. What about the life you were going to have? The life you could’ve had with Ellie?

Warnings: character death, angst, swearing, mentions of blood, descriptions of murder, weapons, apocalyptic events

I wrote this like two years ago and decided fuck it why not get this out of my horde of drafts?

UNEDITED. 18+ MINORS DNI.

That all seemed fucking stupid as you stare at the bite mark on your forearm, pupils glued onto it as you dropped the gun in your right hand.

How did you not notice..?

Ellie came in, trying to look over slowly as she noticed your gun on the floor.

“you look like hell. are you okay..?”

You quickly turn to her, a panic-stricken look to your face. you chuckle as you roll down your sleeve.

“it’s nothing,” you say.

“nothing at all.”

she frowns at your now bleeding blue jacket, looking from your sleeve and back at you.

“no way did you try and stitch yourself up again.” she jokes.

you give an awkward smile. “yup.. y’know me, always stitching myself up!”

she walks over to you quickly, grabbing your arm. she sighs, starting to pull up your sleeve. “let me see how you did, if you did it all jagged i swe-“

“stop!” you pull your arm away, adjusting your sleeve “i.. i think i saw someone out there, we.. we should go.”

“we’re in ass nowhere, there’s nobody nearby.”

you shake your head. “no, no i swear I saw one!”

she gives you a knowing look, before its your turn to sigh as you slowly take off your backpack. guess you two were staying here for the night.

—

half an our has passed. you can feel her eyes boring into your back as you doodle on the worn wood with a rock. you know you should tell her… but…. it’ll be hard.

ellie has already lost so much, and you want to protect her for as long as you can.

the sun has set by now, and you lean against the staircase.

you glance at ellie repeatedly, who hasn’t moved from her criss cross position on the floor. she makes eye contact with you, before rushing at you.

“holy shit!” you shout. she grabs your arm, pulling up the sleeve as you fight back. “ellie stop! you’re hurting me! what if you pull the stitch!”

it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. the dried up mark pulsed on your arm, veins haywire. she stares at the bite mark with a blank face, her eyebrows furrowing. “are you fucking serious.”

you try to speak, but nothing comes out. your hand reaches hers, as you attempt to slowly pry her fingers off. when you touch hands, she suddenly explodes.

“why didn’t you tell me?!” she yells. “when did you get this?? do you not trust me?!”

the questions flood your head, and you feel dizzy. you stumble against the floor, tears pooling at your eyes.

“i’m sorry.”

“when did you get it?!” she repeats, shaking your arm.

just before you two got in the safe house, when you killed those clickers.

“i… i don’t know. i only saw it when we got in the house.”

her gaze softens, the grip on you loosening. she’s silent now. uncomfortably silent.

she lets go of you, but doesn’t move.

“when… when did you plan on telling me?”

“soon, i swear. i-“

“were you gonna just run away and kill yourself or what?! why couldnt you have fucking told me! i could have helped you! i could’ve- I-“ she chokes on her words, falling to her knees.

she hugs you tightly, cradling you slowly as if you were fragile. “i can’t lose you. not you too…”

you shiver against her breath as warm tears fall onto your shoulder. “we could.. we could amputate it. my arm, i mean.”

she lets go, gently taking off your jacket and inspecting your arm. “no use.” she says coldly, dropping both your arm and hers. you look at her, only for her not to look back.

“look, ellie i-“

“if you want me to do it i wont.”

“what?”

“i cant shoot you. even if you killed everybody i know i could never shoot you. i… i fucking said it. fucking embarrassing am i right..? i could never do it.” she rambles as she looks to the side.

ellie looked so god damn pretty right now. the moon glimmering in the window framed her face perfectly, as if she was sculpted by the gods herself.

you grab her face with your bite-free arm. even if she couldn’t get infected, you would never.

you look at her lips, and then her eyes. then her lips again. she stared at you gently, tears glossing her eyes. you kiss her softly, the feeling of her chapped lips against yours filling your heart with joy. you had waited so long to feel her lips, to feel them against yours. you had just wished it was under different circumstances. you let go, and she leans into you for more, but you stand your ground.

“i know you just said you cant,” you say quietly. “but neither can i. so someone needs to, y’know?” you chuckle.

ellie looks at you in shock. “what?” she feels the cold metal against her palm, and looks at the gun you slid into her hands. she glances back up. “no, no.. i…” she shakes her head. “i can’t, you know i can’t.”

you smile slowly. “i’m too much of a pussy to do it. we both know this. and if i have to go this way, i’d only want you to do it.”

you scoot back a little, so you rest against the stairs once more. she’s standing up now, towering over you as the gun lay limp in her hand.

“do it for me, ellie.” you murmur softly, refusing to make eye contact.

your gun shakes in her hand, and she swears she can feel the leftover warmth of you touching it. its now aimed at your head as you continue to smile at her.

“i can’t.”

you frown. “please.”

she’d never seen you beg, and realized it would be the last. you want it to be her. you want her to do this one last favor. and she’d be damned if she never did anythung for you in your last moments.

“i love you.” you whisper.

she looks away, biting her lips.

“i love you too.”

—

she picks up the blue stained jacket, gently wrapping your gun in it before packing it into her bag.

she grabs your limp body, huffing as she leaves the house with you in her arms. she reaches the door, glancing at the blood splatter against the wall of the staircase. she should have known. she thought to herself. you would have gushed about how beautiful the house must have been before the outbreak. she turns, leaving as she silently swears to never set foot in that house again. not while your blood soiled the floral wallpaper.

you two were going to go to this farm that dina had promised was amazing. jj and dina were waiting for you two. waiting for you to excitedly run to jj the second you got in the house, getting to meet the new baby. watching you gush about how cute he is and refuse to take your eyes off him. to finally be at peace.

she walked for a bit, before finding a patch of tall grass and moss, next to a fallen tree. the moon’s light gave it an ethereal feel to it. you would have loved to see this.

her grip tightened on you. she didn’t want to let go. as much as she wishes she could just easily lay you down and walk away she just couldn’t. she always couldn’t do something. she couldn’t ride a bike. she couldn’t swim. she couldn’t save you.

she couldn’t shoot you.

but she did.

so,

ellie gently laid you on the forest ground, taking off her coat and placing it over your face. she couldn’t look at you anymore. not without falling apart.

she backs up, staring at you one final time.

“see ya later i guess..” she chuckles. she feels her nails digging into her skin, tears crawling down her face. her clothes didnt feel right anymore. they felt itchy, uncomfortable, wet. only wet because of your blood of course. the redness on the hem of her shirt was suffocating, the coppery smell sending her into an internal fit.

it doesn’t matter what she can’t do. its now what she will do. and what she will do is kill abby. abby’s to blame. she’s the cause of this. if she never killed joel, they’d never even go to seattle. jesse wouldn’t be dead. all of this was because of abby. she couldnt kill abby she couldn’t save jesse.

she couldn’t save you.

in the end she still couldn’t.

she just couldn’t live without you.

[insensiblelimerence]

Positively Mouth-Watering

Connor x Reader (non graphic nsfw)

This is just a little (fairly unedited) blurb about how pretty Connor looks while interrogating a suspect, especially when you have some other less work friendly memories to compare his actions to ;)

Word Count: 1,119

You watched him in a manner that you prayed wasn't nearly as hungry as you felt as he stood behind the woman that he, Hank, and Gavin had been working to interrogate for the better part of three hours now.

His hands were clasped behind him as he glared at the back of the suspect's head, lean thighs brushing together as he paced back and forth in a manner that you were certain was causing the woman he was attempting to intimidate a great deal of anxiety.

But watching from the other side, you found that you were far less anxious and a lot more desperate as time went on.

You watched as Connor leaned forward, and were forced to fight back a shiver at the sound of his voice, low and threatening as he muttered something in the woman's ear, his body bent at his perfectly trim waist and his shirt pulled tight against his torso in a way that had you thinking far too much about the skin underneath it, and how no one else in this room knew the way that this intimidating deviant android, this perfect man, would shiver beneath your hands if only you could run them down his stomach right now. Additionally, you found yourself incredibly stuck on just how overdue Connor was for a few extra "love bites" to further accentuate the spattering of freckles you had all but memorized by now despite how unjustly hidden they were beneath those shirts all the time.

God, was your mouth watering?

You swallowed thickly, hoping with everything you had that neither Hank nor Gavin had noticed the way your thighs had began to rub together unconsciously as you worked to service the ache that was building between them.

You jumped ever so slightly as Connor slammed his hands on the table, having rounded his way back to his empty chair where he remained standing, his side profile in clear view as he continued his well practiced intimidation tactics.

Fuck, Cyberlife had no goddamn business making this man so painfully hot.

You watched closely as his jaw twitched ever so slightly at whatever it was that the woman was or wasn't saying, his fingers gripping onto the smooth metal surface in front of him as he grew more and more frustrated.

'Me too, Con'

You thought, smiling a bit at your own inner voice as you tried to fight off the thoughts on how those fingers might feel if they were gripping you right now instead.

How those fingers had felt at your waist two nights ago, when he'd fucked you tirelessly at his desk after hours. The way his hips had slammed against your own and his lips had sucked marks into your neck that had made you all too relieved that it was appropriate turtleneck weather in Detroit right now.

Unconsciously, your hips rolled up into nothing, and you blushed at your own actions as you fought to regain control over your mind.

But fuck did Connor make that hard.

Because how could you not think about the way those fingers had fucked you so thoroughly underneath the table during the staff meeting last week when they were straightening his tie like that?

How could you not remember the way he had slammed you against the wall of the bathroom the day before last when he shoved his chair in against the table so aggressively?

And how could you possibly sit here and act totally normal when he was standing exactly where he'd stood last night when he'd wrapped those evil fingers of his around your neck and fucked you from behind? His tauntingly seductive voice whispering in your ear in a way that had you melting even now as you remembered it.

You rubbed your thighs together again as you let your thoughts get the better of you once more, only to have to hold back a whine of exasperation when you noted the dampness present there, already soaking through the thin fabric of your panties.

'His favorite'

You thought, swallowing thickly as you recalled the way he'd reacted the first time he'd seen them over a month ago,

"I like these."

He'd murmured as he snapped them against your hip mindlessly, his other hand rubbing small circles into your upper thigh as he did so,

"If I leave them in one piece will you wear them again for me soon?"

And wear them again soon you had, but Connor had yet to actually see them since then.

'Until tonight, if I get my way'

You thought, teeth worrying your bottom lip as you watched Connor smirk down at the suspect, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his features as he stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest before thanking the woman for her time.

And with that, he made his way over to the door, long legs reaching it so quickly you hardly had time to prepare yourself as he stepped into the observation room, where his eyes immediately snapped towards yours, LED briefly spinning yellow as he performed one of his familiarly invasive scans, which only made your cheeks burn hotter.

Soon enough though, that LED went back to its typical steady blue, though you could have sworn that the corners of Connor's mouth had lifted ever so slightly as he'd finished up.

The minutes after this were a blur of questions for Connor followed by quiet hums of understanding paired with the occasional shocked exclamation from Hank or Gavin.

But afterward?

As the two began to discuss their next course of action, you found yourself standing before you could overthink your movements, feet walking you directly over to the android who had caused this whole issue.

Connor looked at you with feigned curiosity and confusion as he tilted his head in that familiarly endearing manner that only served to make you wish you could push that pretty face of his right between your thighs the way you knew he adored.

"Is there something I can help you with, Detective?"

Connor asked, the sound of his voice so close making your knees feel so weak that you scolded yourself internally despite your inability to change your own reactions to the annoyingly perfect man who stood before you.

"Actually Connor, I think I have multiple things that you can help me with. Would you mind accompanying me to the evidence room?"

You asked as innocently as you could manage, watching as Connor's eyebrows rose and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he allowed his gaze to travel up and down your form.

"I would be more than happy to, Detective. Please, lead the way."

AO3 Link

[insensiblelimerence]

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.3

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: a shorter chapter! But I promise chapter 4 will definitely be longer! anyways, enjoy angels! 💗

→ part one → part two

Suddenly, like a starting gun had been fired, the four of you sprang into action. It was a dash to the showers, with elbows bumping and bodies jostling as you all struggled to be the first one in.

Abby, with her speed and strength, managed to dart ahead, closely followed by Ellie. You and Dina were neck and neck, both determined not to be left behind. In the chaos, you stumbled over each other's feet, arms flailing as you tried to maintain your balance.

"Watch it!" Ellie grumbled as she tried regaining her balance.

Eventually, you all reached the showers, each claiming a stall with exhaustion. The sound of rushing water filled the air as you quickly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warmth. 

With only a few minutes to spare, you all hurriedly scrubbed yourselves clean, trying to make every second count.

“Fuck! Does anyone have shampoo?!" Ellie yelled, shaking her empty bottle in frustration.

"I do!" you exclaimed, quickly grabbing your shampoo bottle and rushing over to Ellie's stall. 

Ellie's eyes widened seeing you approach, her initial reaction being to dart her gaze away, her face turning a deep shade of red. 

fuckk..you were naked.

Without hesitation, you squeezed a generous amount of shampoo into her waiting hand. 

“t-thanks..” Ellie stammered, her voice slightly shaky. 

"I think I need some too~," Dina purred, her voice flirtatious, waving her hand dramatically as if in desperate need.

"Shit, me too!" Abby chimed in, her head popping out of her stall, trying to catch sight of you.

"You're both so unoriginal," Ellie grumbled, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"I'll be right there!" you replied, turning around to share shampoo with Abby and Dina.

Ellie's gaze lingered on you for a moment, eyeing the way your hips swayed, the curves of your body traced by droplets of water. The softness of your skin, illuminating in a soft glow. There was a certain beauty in your movements, a grace that captured her attention. 

She craved to discover it. 

───

Soon enough, you found yourselves in the cooking classroom, greeted by the aroma of various ingredients. Rows of kitchen stations awaited, each equipped with utensils, pots, and pans. 

The teacher, a seasoned chef, greeted the four of you. “Hello, ladies! Today, we'll be making some classic breakfast dishes," she announced. 

"It's important to start every day with a nutritious meal, especially for your husband," she added with a wink. 

The four of you blankly stared at her. 

The teacher clapped her hands, signaling the start of the cooking session. "Right then! Chop, chop!"

"Just follow my lead," Dina reassured, playfully smacking your ass before guiding you to the station next to hers.

Ellie took charge of cracking eggs, her movements precise and efficient. Abby occupied the stove, flipping pancakes with a flick of her wrist. 

Dina always experimented with different ingredients, adding a dash of spice here and there to enhance the flavors. As for you, your focus was on whipping up a batch of fluffy scrambled eggs, gently stirring them in a skillet.

"Here," Dina said, pausing her tasks and stepping behind you, "You'll hurt your wrist if you do it like that."

She gently took hold of your hand, her touch delicate yet firm. Her fingertips tracing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth. As she leaned closer, her chest pressed against your back, you could feel the heat radiating from her body.

Your palms grew moist with sweat, and a slight tremble ran through your fingers. Flustered, you struggled to maintain composure, your cheeks warming with a faint blush. 

"Oh," you murmured, turning to meet her gaze, "thank you."

Dina smiled warmly. "You’re so cutee!!" she remarked, pulling you into a tight hug. "Marry mee!!” 

Just then, the cooking instructor approached Abby,  “Abby, the nurse needs you,"

Abby glanced up from her station, faking a face of concern. "What for?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

The teacher shrugged. "I'm not sure, but she sounded urgent. You better go check."

"Alright," she nodded at the instructor before turning to the rest of you. "Catch you later, guys," she said with a smirk.

The three of you exchanged knowing glances.

"Mhm.." Dina remarked, her tone suspicious.

───

Thud!

With a forceful slam, the nurse's back collided with the wall, a small whimper escaping her lips as Abby pressed her against it. The nurse's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching as she felt Abby's strong grip on her wrists.

Abby leaned in closer, her voice low and seductive. "You’re so fucking impatient.." she whispered, her breath warm against the nurse's ear.

The nurse's cheeks flushed crimson, excitement coursing through her veins. She struggled to find her words, her heart pounding in her chest. Before she could respond, Abby's lips crashed against hers in a hungry kiss, sending a surge of pleasure. The nurse squeezed her thighs together, her hands reaching up to tangle in Abby's hair.

As their lips parted, the nurse's breath came out in ragged gasps, her eyes glazed with desire. "I-I needed you," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Abby flashed her a grin, her eyes burning with desire. "fuckk…" she murmured, trailing kisses along the nurse's neck. “Let's see how long you last this time."

───

Dina leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I've been thinking," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sizzling of the stove.

You and Ellie exchanged curious glances, waiting for Dina to continue.

"We should sneak into the director's office tonight and steal back our stuff," Dina proposed, a smirk plastered on her lips.

Ellie crossed her arms, her expression firm. "Fuck no." 

"What?! Why not?" Dina whined, clearly disappointed. 

Ellie sighed, "I'm already three strikes down," 

"We won't get caught if we plan it!" Dina insisted, nudging Ellie's arm. 

You nodded in agreement with Dina, "She's right, Ellie," you chimed in, "We'll plan it out and make sure everything goes smoothly. We won't leave any evidence behind."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, surprised by your willingness to participate. 

"Come onn, El's!" Dina groaned,  "Don't you want your finger—"

"Okay!" Ellie interrupted, cutting Dina off before subjecting her to more teasing. "But you owe me a pack of cigarettes.." she huffed in annoyance.

Dina grinned. "deal!" she replied cheerfully.

A sudden small buzzing sound caught Ellie's attention, a tickle on her right shoulder. She glanced over to see a pesky fly. 

"Don't move," you whispered urgently, eyeing the fly.

Dina, sensing an opportunity, slowly raised her hand, ready to swat the fly. But just as she made her move, the fly darted away, escaping her grasp.

"Damn it!" Dina exclaimed in frustration, waving her hand through the air attempting to catch it. 

The fly continued to buzz around the kitchen. Ellie, determined to get rid of it, swatted at the air wildly. You, too, joined in the frenzy, swinging a dish towel in an attempt to kill it. 

“Don’t let it land on the food!” Dina urged. 

In your frantic attempts to catch the fly, bottles of oil and water were knocked over, creating a slippery mess on the floor. Ellie, caught off guard by the slick surface, slipped and crashed to the ground with a loud thud. 

“Argh! Damn it!” Ellie groaned in pain.

Meanwhile, your efforts caused water to splash onto a cooking pot, leading to a sudden burst of sizzling oil that sent you yelping in pain. 

“Ouch!” you shouted, stumbling back and landing on top of ellie.

Amidst the chaos, everyone momentarily forgot about the bacon, sizzling on the hot stove. It was beginning to burn, filling the kitchen with thick smoke that billowed up toward the ceiling.

“Hey guys,” Dina called out amidst the commotion, “Something’s burning..”

Abby walked back into the kitchen, disheveled and with lipstick marks scattered across her neck. “Hey guys, I’m back...” her voice trailed off. 

She stood frozen for a moment, taking in the utter chaos that had unfolded while she was gone. 

Ellie was still on the floor, rubbing her bruised body, while Dina was frantically trying to clean up the spilled oil and water, her clothes stained and her hair in disarray. Whilst frantically trying to dodge splattering oil from the pot. You were scrambling to turn off the stove, desperately trying to salvage whatever remained of the bacon.

“What the fuck happened?!” Abby exclaimed, slowly walking over

Before anyone could respond, the sprinkler system activated, sending gushes of water down from the ceiling. Abby stood frozen in shock as she was drenched by the downpour, her already disheveled appearance now completely soaked.

The kitchen descended into madness as everyone scrambled to avoid the flood of water, slipping and sliding on the now-slippery floor. Ellie let out a frustrated groan, while Dina cursed loudly, and you desperately tried to shield the food from the onslaught of water.

Abby shook her head in disbelief, “I should’ve just stayed for round two..” 

[insensiblelimerence]

[insensiblelimerence]

[insensiblelimerence]

Don't forget about the Palestinians.

Don't forget about them now.

Don't forget about them tomorrow.

Don't forget about them in a week from now.

Don't forget about them in a month.

Don't forget them next year.

Don't forget them in 5 years.

When the history books start to update, don't let them put lies in there.

When documentaries come out, boycott the ones who call this a victory for Israel.

When books release talking about soldier's personal experiences with Palestine, remember the victims. Remember the truth.

Don't forget about what we've seen.

Don't forget about what we've heard.

Don't let them tell lies about Palestine.

Don't forget about the Palestinians when the world tries to make this go away.