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blackenedsnow · 2 months ago

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I was the one who made reader have a you her sibling they take care of, just saying, it was so amazing. I love it:D. I have another request. This one was a bit weird and rushed cause like I'm a sleepover with two of my cousins so

Billy Loomis, Bubba Sawyer, Art the Clown, Stu Matcher, Thomas Hewitt, Jason, Michael, Billy Lenz, Pinhead, Tiffany (if you write for her) Charles/Chucky, Bo, Vincent, Lester, Brahms. If you want to add more or get rid of some it's okay. But you can either have it platonic of them being a younger sibling or child (adopted or not) going to a sleepover. Maybe sneaking out to it. They go to find out where they are and find them in a house and they are being loud, laughing, and just being kids

If you don't do platonic (cause I can't remember if you do or don't) then do it romantically and just like the same thing. You can change things if you that helps and sorry about this. But, the request I first made and you did, it was a great and made me smile cause I didn't expect it so thanks for that

slashers reactions to their younger sibling reader sneaking out to a sleepover ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Billy Loomis & Sibling! Reader, Bubba Sawyer & Sibling! Reader, Art the Clown & Sibling! Reader, Stu Macher & Sibling! Reader, Thomas Hewitt & Sibling! Reader, Jason Voorhees & Sibling! Reader, Michael Myers & Sibling! Reader, Billy Lenz & Sibling! Reader, Pinhead & Sibling! Reader, Tiffany Valentine & Sibling! Reader, Charles Lee Ray/Chucky & Sibling! Reader, Bo Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Vincent Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Lester Sinclair & Sibling! Reader, Brahms Heelshire & Sibling! Reader

NOTE: Hope you enjoyed this! I could imagine so many of them struggling to hold back but ultimately wanting to let you just be a kid and have fun. Thank you so much for this request; it was a blast to write!

BILLY LOOMIS

You’ve managed to sneak out quietly, thinking Billy won’t notice because he’s engrossed in a movie marathon.

But within half an hour, he realizes you’re gone and his “big sibling” instincts kick in.

He shows up at the house with that intense, unblinking stare that could stop anyone mid-laugh.

Who do you think you are, sneaking out like this?

He’s relieved (and slightly embarrassed) to see you just goofing off with friends.

Pretends to be unimpressed when you’re caught off guard.

He’ll let you stay—for now—

With the most deadpan expression, muttering,

“You could’ve just told me.”

But he’s not about to let you get away with it.

Once you’re back home, he’s the silent-but-deadly type. Just know you’re grounded.

BUBBA SAWYER

Bubba panics the minute he realizes you’re gone, running through the house and making distressed sounds as he searches for you.

He's going to family members and pointing to where your things should be.

The whole family tries to calm him down, but he’s inconsolable until he finds a clue leading him to the sleepover house.

When he tracks you down, he’s so relieved he doesn’t know what to do.

Seeing you safe and having fun brings tears to his eyes.

He’ll probably sit outside the house, just quietly waiting for you to finish.

If you notice him, he might wave shyly or even try to make himself “invisible.”

ART THE CLOWN

Oh, Art knows you’ve snuck out, and he’s amused.

He’s both delighted to have a reason to check in and irritated that you thought you could get away with this.

Appears at the sleepover out of nowhere, scaring the life out of anyone who notices him lurking outside.

Watches silently, only making himself known to you with that twisted grin of his, waving as if to say, “Caught you!”

Doesn't stop you from having fun but does make it clear that he knows—and will remember.

Expect creepy antics as payback when you get home.

STU MACHER

Stu probably wasn’t paying enough attention to notice you sneaking out right away, but once he does..

He's MAD.

Once he finds the house, he’s too tempted not to sneak around and scare the shit out of all of you.

Might throw a pebble at the window to get your attention and then give you a dramatic pout, mouthing,

“How could you leave me out?”

When you get home, he’ll give you a long (and playful) guilt trip about how you left him to "suffer".

THOMAS HEWITT

Notices you’re missing right away.

Thomas doesn’t like you out of his sight, so he feels uneasy, imagining the worst.

He follows you quietly, not wanting to interrupt.

When he spots you through the window, safe and laughing, he stops, taking a deep breath of relief.

Watches you with a slight smile, just relieved to see you having fun.

He’s happy that you’re being a normal kid and knows better than to interrupt that.

Will probably leave you alone and probably won't bring it up, ever.

He would definitely prefer if you let him know though.

JASON VOORHEES

Jason’s heart drops when he notices you’re not in your usual spot, and he’s anxious as he starts tracking you down.

He’s relieved to see you laughing and safe with friends.

Stays outside or hidden, keeping a protective eye.

He doesn’t want to interrupt but also doesn’t want anything sneaking up on you.

Plus, who knows if these kids don't mean any harm?

Might leave little signs outside (like stacked stones) to let you know he was there, just to make sure you’re safe.

MICHAEL MYERS

He’s annoyed.

Why would you leave his protection?

Michael doesn’t even try to blend in; he’s the shadow at the window.

Once you see his white mask peeking in, you know the jig is up.

He won’t cause a scene, but he just stares until you get the message.

When you sneak out to meet him, he’ll give you a tiny “you-know-better” look, but he’s not mad—he just wants you safe.

Doesn’t reveal himself to anyone else, but he’ll stay there the entire time.

When you get home, expect a long, silent stare, reminding you that you’re not as sneaky as you think.

BILLY LENZ

He notices right away.

Billy has a keen eye for your whereabouts, and he’s instantly on the move, tracking you down.

Peers through the window, watching you play with a pout.

He feels oddly betrayed but finds your happiness too endearing to be angry.

He won’t disrupt the fun, but you might catch a glimpse of him outside, holding his hands up in an “I’m watching you” gesture.

When you get home, he’ll tease you nonstop about “abandoning him.”

PINHEAD

This is completely out of the ordinary, and he is both confused and a bit annoyed that you snuck out without informing him.

Appears in his signature, intimidating way, silently observing from outside.

He finds the concept of a “sleepover” curious.

He’s more contemplative about it, watching as if studying some strange new human ritual.

He waits until you’re ready to return and then accompanies you back without a word.

You can expect a very stern lecture when you get home about the importance of communication��

TIFFANY VALENTINE

She realizes quickly that you’re gone and storms out to find you, though her anger’s more worried than anything.

When she spots you through the window, laughing and having fun, her irritation fades into a soft smile.

She won’t interrupt, just stands outside and watches for a bit.

She loves seeing you like this, happy and unbothered.

When you get back, she’ll playfully scold you but then pull you into a hug, reminding you to tell her next time.

CHUCKY (CHARLES LEE RAY)

Chucky’s annoyed at first, muttering to himself,

“What does this kid think they’re doing?”

He’s irritated you’d sneak off, especially without his “permission,” and tracks you down, grumbling the entire way.

When he finds you, he feels an odd mix of pride and annoyance.

He likes your independence but also doesn’t like feeling “left out.”

Gives you a wicked grin through the window, mouthing, “We’re talking later.”

He’ll grumble that “next time, you should let him know,” but he’s proud you managed to sneak out without him noticing.

BO SINCLAIR

Bo is mad and lets you know it.

He’s worried you’re in danger, and when he finds you, he’s that overprotective brother with his arms crossed.

He pulls you aside, lecturing you on safety and probably embarrassing you in front of your friends.

But once he knows you’re okay, he lets up a bit and waits outside for you, a little softer.

At home, he pretends he’s still mad but lets you off the hook pretty easily.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent’s used to you being close by, so when you’re not there, he’s unnerved and worried.

Tracks you down and watches quietly, almost touched to see you carefree with your friends.

Leaves a little note or sketch somewhere you’ll find it later, a reminder of his presence even when you’re far away.

He’s quiet when you get home, but there’s a warmth to his gaze.

You should him next time..

LESTER SINCLAIR

Lester’s both amused and concerned when he finds you missing.

He tracks you down quickly, not one for letting you go unguarded.

When he finds you through the window, he watches with a fond smile, chuckling at your carefree attitude.

Might knock on the door and make up an excuse to check on you if you notice him, but he’ll mostly just let you have your fun.

Gives you a playful nudge and a “don’t think you’re getting away that easy next time” when you get back.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Brahms does not take this well, feeling abandoned and maybe a bit betrayed.

When he tracks you down, he watches from the shadows, arms crossed, grumpy but protective.

Might stare until you feel his gaze and look over at him, just so you know he found you.

When you return, expect a big fuss, with Brahms grumbling about how much he “suffered” in your absence.

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outpost51 · 1 year ago

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decemTBR roundup #1 -- weeks 1 + 2

there's probably gonna be more than one of these for week 2 but that's not important anyway LEGGO

in order of READING, not of rank (bc that's super rude yo)

Project Sunseeker (Improved Version) || @thetrashbagswasteland || ao3 || on-going, current wc: 47,531

i'm actually feral for this universe that cast has built, and these initial chapters are all first contact linguisitic shenanigans and shep just being lost in general and i love it a lot okay? this fic permanently altered the thumbs up gesture for me in the best way

The Weight of Memory || @sparatus/@lieutenantabrudas || ao3 || on-going, current wc: 32,220

hi do you wanna get hopelessly attached to minor characters that get no screentime in their actual media and that the fandom as a whole generally forgets about? do you wanna have so many feelings about the horrors of war and the lasting impact it has on everyone, written by someone who was raised by generations of veterans and has a special interest in the historical impact of warfare? what the fuck are you waiting for go read it

To Catch a Rabbit || @sparatus/@lieutenantabrudas || ao3 || complete, 82,814 words

just a good fun murder mystery with a healthy dose of mutual pining that does, eventually, resolve itself in a heated moment that left me screaming like that one excited baby in that one gif

something to remember us by || @elizashepard || ao3 || oneshot, 1,067 words

obviously i'm going feral for anything that does nyreen/aria justice, and this is now on my list of fics to reread when i need a good cry

i read a BUNCH of oneshots by @thetrashbagswasteland actually, most of them in one day. how

Toothpaste || ao3 || 877 words

this is just a cute little vetryder moment, I love them your honor

Putting Up With Us || ao3 || 1,241 words

Honestly if you want good rarepair shit cast literally created the tag for these bastards and this is some delicious fluff

The Storm Between Us || ao3 || 2,663 words

rems is like. my tragedy comfort character she's one of my moms now ok thx

Crunchy Pebbles || ao3 || 2,859 words

you know what's great? barrix + vetryder beach episodes THAT KICK YOU IN THE TEETH

Worth Melting For || ao3 || 2,809 words

more rarepair fluff but this time it smarts a little

Dilatory || ao3 || 4,370 words

THIS SMARTS A LOT MORE

Gone Wherever You May Be || ao3 || 1,279 words

"i hope this kryterius angst hurts uwu teehee" YEAH IT HURTS YOU SON OF A BITCH

Hurry Hurry - or there'll be time to waste || ao3 || 3,331 words

god avi’s self esteem always kicks me straight in the kokoro but this one is bittersweet rarepair domesticity 🥺

A Fraction Of Your Happy Heart || ao3 || 1,246 words

i am a PUDDLE i love them SO MUCH and i need MORE BARRIX FLUFF FOREVER

Ryncol Tastes Like Ass || ao3 || 4,833 words

this is honest to god the slapstick levity i needed after the ANGST MARATHON

Tales in the Last Days || ao3 || 11,404 words

both heartwarming and heartbreaking, if you like found family finding their way through hardship, you'll have a good time

Chomp the Champion Varren || ao3 || 1,595 words

CHOMP IS BEST BOY

Strike Two || ao3 || 6,068 words

this is just "how alec ryder and castis vakarian became buddies shortly after shanxi" and every bit of it is good and wonderful

#decemTBR #fic rec

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advancedthetapractitioner · 7 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Ok, I guess we'll watch the fish channel

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365dailyaffirmations · 7 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Ok, I guess we'll watch the fish channel

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Reach out whenever we can help/contribute to you and yours in any way. View Calendar First, Then Pay and Schedule 15 mins | 30 mins | 60 mins | Appointments

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~ ALL POSSIBILITIES ~

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Next LIVE Zoom Event

THURSDAY JUNE 27, 2024 4:00pm ET | 1:00pm PT | 10:00pm UK Pre-registration is $22 30 minutes live | Includes replay access 👉https://calendly.com/jmh-calls/7-wellsprings-mind-clearings

Call #2 Theme: Mind Clearings: Past/Present/Future

1) Past

I am releasing ________from my past

current overshadowing that is still with me from my past education, religion, politics or societal norms]

2) Present

I am now releasing________from my current/present.

3) Future

Please release from my mind______

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Come See Me in Tampa Office

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Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions in Tampa. The next opportunity to book a session there is:

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403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy

http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

FREE Live Appearances

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives from the Jimmy Mack Healing Radio show.

https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack Own this e-book so that you can read inspiration every day!

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

From the Fish Box

MY DAILY PRAYER TESTIMONIAL

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We're in the homestretch working on the final touches for the newest release: Returning to Your Ethereal Restore Point PDF, MP3 and bonus clearings!

The Fish Market

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divinefishingtips · 7 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Ok, I guess we'll watch the fish channel

TGIWednesday News

Reach out whenever we can help/contribute to you and yours in any way. View Calendar First, Then Pay and Schedule 15 mins�� | 30 mins | 60 mins | Appointments

TGIWednesday Video Download

~ ALL POSSIBILITIES ~

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Next LIVE Zoom Event

THURSDAY JUNE 27, 2024 4:00pm ET | 1:00pm PT | 10:00pm UK Pre-registration is $22 30 minutes live | Includes replay access 👉https://calendly.com/jmh-calls/7-wellsprings-mind-clearings

Call #2 Theme: Mind Clearings: Past/Present/Future

1) Past

I am releasing ________from my past

current overshadowing that is still with me from my past education, religion, politics or societal norms]

2) Present

I am now releasing________from my current/present.

3) Future

Please release from my mind______

SUBMISSION INSTRUCTIONS: After registration, submit your top 3 words/statements in the format above by Wed. the 26th to [email protected]

Be kind to our editors: please KEEP IT BRIEF :)

Come See Me in Tampa Office

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions in Tampa. The next opportunity to book a session there is:

FRIDAY JULY 19TH | 10-4pm

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy

http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

FREE Live Appearances

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives from the Jimmy Mack Healing Radio show.

https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack Own this e-book so that you can read inspiration every day!

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

From the Fish Box

MY DAILY PRAYER TESTIMONIAL

What's On Deck?

We're in the homestretch working on the final touches for the newest release: Returning to Your Ethereal Restore Point PDF, MP3 and bonus clearings!

The Fish Market

💸 The Prosperity Collection 🧘 The Body, Mind and Spirit Collection 🙂 The Improve Your Life Collection 💻 Access 50+ Videos in the Zoom Replay Collection

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

👉 PayPal for subscription Click here

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*Anytime prior to your next scheduled payment within the 30 days, you can cancel or pause this service via email request.

---------------------------------

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Visit our Online Training Center "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime" - Lao Tzu

Visit now, Click Here!

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thedivinefish · 7 months ago

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TGIWednesday: Ok, I guess we'll watch the fish channel

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Reach out whenever we can help/contribute to you and yours in any way. View Calendar First, Then Pay and Schedule 15 mins | 30 mins | 60 mins | Appointments

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Next LIVE Zoom Event

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Call #2 Theme: Mind Clearings: Past/Present/Future

1) Past

I am releasing ________from my past

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puggemon · 3 years ago

Text

* How you met

Billy Loomis *

{ TW: Cursing, mentions of gore, blood, killing, etc. }

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It hadn't been too long prior to laying down for rest that you were fully indulged in The Exorcist, all attention aimed towards the boxed television that sat in the corner of the room, it being the only light illuminating your bedroom. You'd flicked off your lights to keep the atmosphere dark and ominous, so you could fully experience the 1973 classic in the only way it was supposed to be enjoyed. Every now and again you'd find yourself jolting at the unexpected jump scares flashing across the screen, or making fun of how cheesy they've come to look beyond the years. But you were never one to reject a classic horror movie, seeing as it was one of your favorite genres/your favorite genre.

A few hours had passed, and you'd finally finished the one movie marathon. Which led up to the moment where you were now cozied up underneath the duvet spread out along your bed. Your [E/C] eyes fluttered back and forth in between consciousness and unconsciousness. You were on the edge of falling sleep, until your ears picked up the sound of small objects being thrown at the glass of your window. It was quite subtle, but still noticeable nonetheless..

Tink tink tink.

You groaned out of frustration, wriggling out from underneath the covers that once greeted you with comfort. Getting out of bed, you slipped on your house shoes, to avoid walking across the cold floor barefoot. Trudging the way towards the window, you let out a loud yawn. Getting closer, you realized that the source of the sound was something you would have least expected. You figured it was a branch tapping the glass.. For who would even be kneeled over by your window at midnight? You had a few friends, but none of them would go out of their way to choose such a dramatic entrance into your household. They'd just stampede through the door, and make themselves comfortable on your couch, or immediately make a beeline towards the refrigerator. Come to think of it, perhaps an extravagant window entering moment would be preferred.

Once you lifted the window, having turned on the lamp sat along your bedside table, you looked straight at the one guilty of awaking you. And it didn't take you long to realize that it was not one of your friends. Let alone someone you even knew by name. Of course you'd seen the slick haired boy wandering through the hallways of your high school, normally surrounded by other people, but you'd never once figured that you'd find him climbing the roof for you. You hadn't even associated with him, prior to this moment.

His eyes widened, as if realizing the mistake he'd just made. But you couldn't blame him. It was late at night, the darkness clouded the sky, and with lack of vision came Billy choosing the wrong house to try to sneak into. He was looking for Sidney, but instead was greeted with someone he'd seen at school. Someone he'd never formally introduced himself to.

"Can I help you?" You asked, quite annoyed at the situation, but holding your tongue from saying something too harsh. Waking someone up by throwing pebbles at their window, especially someone you don't even know, is quite disrespectful. At least you thought.

"...Aren't you the one from English class who always forgets their pencils?" The nameless, yet charming boy made light of his fuck up, a smile spreading across his quite attractive features. Now, Billy may have ended up at the wrong house, but he still happened to make it somewhere there was a beautiful person in front of him. And he was going to seize that moment, no matter what.

Of course he'd always seen you, in fact, you were someone he looked for quite often. He'd never talked to you, but that was because he was in shackles with Sidney. And if someone, anyone, had found out that Billy Loomis had conversed with a female that wasn't in Sidney's friend group, he'd never hear the end of it. Unless, he caused the end of his suffering with her, which he was tempted to do day-by-day. But him and Stu were patiently waiting for the right moment. And they hadn't reached that, yet.

Maybe just maybe, if their mass murder plan went smoothly as they calculated it to, this little house mixup could become an upgrade to his relationship status.

Suddenly it hit you, not realization, but the window. Without having it locked open, it slammed shut, right atop your fingers. You cursed up a storm, feeling the burning throb in your fingertips. Billy immediately went to open the window from crushing your hands any longer, concern etched in his features, as his eyebrows furrowed together. "Are you okay? That looked pretty nasty," He took it upon himself to climb in through the window, leaping down onto your bedroom floor, and your eyes widened at the sight of a boy besides Randy stepping inside your domain.

His hands enveloped yours, examining them, as they tinted bright red. It was all happening so fast, but you could still feel the effects of another person holding your hands. It was a thump in your chest and a skip in your pulse.

Billy walked you backwards to the chair that was sat beside your desk, helping you sit down in it, trying to act upon being a gentleman as much as possible. In attempts to give the best first impression to you. More than he did with Sidney.

You'd never spent so much time around him, so you didn't seem to know why he was showing such manners with you when most high school boys wouldn't even dare.

You pulled your hands away from him, not allowing him to touch you anymore, seeing as each moment that passed with your hands in his, you were growing more embarrassed. "I'm fine.."

Once he accepted the fact that you had your guard up against him, he figured it would be better to play it coy, rather than immediately try to charm you how he usually did towards other females that he wanted to woo in bed. And even though in the eyes of another it would be wrong, considering the fact that he was in a relationship with his girlfriend, but he genuinely didn't care, which he knew made him a bad person.

His eyes darted around your [F/C] room, noticing the empty Exorcist case set down in front of the movie player. "You enjoy scary movies?" His pulse started elevating at the flashing images of horror playing in his head. Blood, guts, gore. All the things he came to adore.

Instinctively, your lip went between your teeth, nervous at the whole situation that was happening in front of you, right now. Of course you'd had a boy inside your bedroom, under supervision, but he was merely just a friendly figure in your life. "Only 99% of the time, the other one I like to watch [insert something here]."

He laughed, and it was music to your ears. Enough to cause a butterfly hoard in your lower intestines. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

You had a hard time picking through the variety of blockbusters that there was, because in all honestly, considering how many you watched and even enjoyed afterwards, was a lot. But it all boiled down to one in particular, "[ Favorite scary movie ],"

He hummed, and said nothing more. For a few moments it was dead silent, something obviously going through the mind that was hid behind slicked back hair. Billy was normally pent up rage, blood-thirsty, ready to slice through the flesh of anyone who walked in front of him, but in this room, your room, he felt at ease. It was quite nice for him to meet a moment, where he didn't have the same thoughts that constantly pecked at his brain.

"How did you end up here? At midnight of all times.." You were the one to break the quiet streak, asking him a question that had roamed in your thoughts since the beginning of the unexpected visit.

He looked at you, eyes gazing across your whole face, thinking of what to say or even how to say it. Your stomach shifted at the prolonged eye contact, having never looked this deep into anyone's eyes before. Never having been able to see anyone up this close. Billy was also at a loss of words. Which was abnormal, for him since he'd been in this situation many times before with Sidney or other flings, and felt nothing..

Snapping out of his trance, he let out an awkward laugh, before turning and looking away, trying to remain from distracting himself at the conversation the two of you were having. "I had mistaken your house for someone else's. But it's a good thing I did, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to talk about horror movies," Or he wouldn't have been able to see you this up close. To finally learn how you act, after having seen you around campus. Or to be able to deeply take in your features.

And obviously, for good reason he didn't want to say whose house he was trying to find, because he didn't want you to know he was heading to his partner’s house. But he wanted this moment to be about the two of you, finally meeting, even though it wasn't planned. That, to him, just meant it was fate.

"I didn't ask before, what's your name?"

He wasn't surprised that you didn't know his name, for you had never even given him a second glance in the hallways. "Billy, Loomis."

"I'm -"

"[Y/N]. I know-" You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of how he already knew your name, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that he did. And as he registered what he said, his eyes slightly widened as he realized that he'd just given himself away for stalking you, but he was quick to make it up with an excuse, "You're friends with Randy. He's talked about you before."

"Ran the Man? Yeah," You smile, slightly shaking your head at the idea that he was stalking you that had implanted in your brain. But also a little at the stupid nickname you'd dubbed him. Randy was a good friend of yours, of several years. You two had been friends since Kindergarten, growing up together through thick and thin.

Billy internally rolled his eyes at the nickname, annoyed that Randy had such a place in your life, but he had yet to fill the position he wanted.

"W-"

Billy was abruptly cut off by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. The stairs that led to your door. You immediately get up out of your desk chair and usher him towards the window, trying to hide the fact that you have someone in your bedroom this late at night. "I'm so sorry, someone's awake" you whisper yell towards him, afraid of what might happen if you got caught, but he just smirks as he steps back out onto your rooftop.

"Best not get caught," He murmurs to you, your eyes locking with his one last time before the night is over. "It was nice mistaking you for someone else." He jokes, making you smile beyond the sleepiness. Because in all honestly, you enjoyed the small encounter just as much as the boy did.

"Until next time, Loomis." You close the window in front of him, before clicking off the light and rushing back towards the consolation of your mattress. Ready to pretend being asleep, by the time your guardian opens the door.

"And there will definitely be a next time," Billy says to himself, a feeling of adrenaline pumping through his veins at the moment he’d just spent with you. He had never felt this way about something other than the bloodshed of others, and it was quite unusual. Quickly, to avoid any confrontation with someone of your household, he jumped down towards the dewey grass, running on combat boots to make his way towards the house he was originally meant to enter. Mentally prepared to withstand Sidney, having you on his mind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#x reader #imagine #scream #horror #movies #horror movies #billy loomis #stu macher #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

Text

Leave Your Boots By The Bed (SPN x BtVS)

Sam Winchester x Faith Lehane

Word Count: 7350

Warnings: It’s smutty! Samhandling, the jockey is MJ’s favorite sex position, lots of discussions of trust and consent, unprotected sex, rimming, spanking, hair pulling, and dom/sub themes. Wee bit o’ feelings but in a nice way with a happy ending. Mostly just a whole bunch of marathon, athletic, probably-not-OSHA-compliant banging.

A/N: This is the Sam/Faith side-quest (idk what else to call it) to Big Damn Heroes, but you don’t really need to read that to understand this. You can also read just the scene where these two meet over here.

This is my entry for @idabbleincrazy and her “What Do You Mean This Is Classic Rock?” Challenge! My prompt was “Girl All The Bad Guys Want,” by Bowling For Soup, which 100% gave me Faith vibes. It’s quoted/referenced a couple times in the story.

It’s also my (second) entry for @stusbunker’s Jam Basket fic exchange. This one’s for @thoughtslikeaminefield, who deserves the world on a silver platter. I cannot give her that, so instead I offer Faith smut. Thanks to @mskathywriteswords for prodding and lotion-related reality checks, and to @fangirlxwritesx67 for the read-throughs and for reassuring me that if I ever write Sam smut without a little psychoanalysis thrown in, she will worry about me.

Title from the Jason Isbell song “Cover Me Up,” which I listened to on repeat while writing certain chunks of this.

“What’s so funny?” Faith asks, looking at him sideways as they walk.

“I just told you I come from another universe and your response is ‘cool.’”

“Am I supposed to be impressed? I like it this way. No chance of you gettin’ all clingy.”

Sam laughs. “Fair enough.”

“Monsters, huh? You ever staked a vamp before?”

“Stakes don’t kill ‘em in my world. But… beheaded a few,” Sam says mildly.

“Yeah?” Her eyes sparkle. “So if we take the shortcut through the graveyard, you’re not gonna slow me down or get yourself killed?”

He gives her an unimpressed look. “What do you think?”

“Let’s go, then,” she challenges, pointing to the cemetery gate up ahead. “Bet I can dust more before we get to the other side.”

“You’re on.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Heads up,” Faith shouts, and tosses him a stake. Sam whirls and punches it through the thing’s ribcage, sending dust swirling just in time to turn and watch Faith launch herself at another vamp.

“Is this where you take all your dates?” Sam wonders out loud, a little bit enthralled by the cocky grin on her face as she sends the vamp stumbling with one of those showy spin-kicks.

“This is not a date,” she snaps, between solid punches. The last hit decks the vamp, and she stakes him before he can hit the ground. She struts toward Sam, brushing dust from her skintight jeans with a Cheshire cat smile. “I like my job. Fuckin’ sue me.”

“Not complaining,” Sam says, sincerely. “Hottest thing I’ve seen in ages.”

She looks up at him suspiciously, like she thinks he’s making fun of her, and Sam lets her see the heat in his eyes. The grin is back, and she’s grabbing him by the lapels and rocking onto her tiptoes, swaying into him with a little sigh and a lot of confidence. Sam slides both hands into her hair and ducks down to kiss her, sucking on her lower lip and tasting waxy red.

Breathtakingly competent and moderately bitchy has always sorta been his type.

“We had a bet,” he points out, before crushing his mouth to hers again. She makes a sound like a purr and wrenches herself away, grabbing him by the wrist and making a beeline for the path.

“I’m gonna say we both won here,” she says decisively. “Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * *

She grabs him the second the lock slides into place, backing him against the door, already tugging at his belt. He yanks her jacket off her shoulders and she lets it fall, and then he grabs her by the belt loops, reeling her in until she’s pressed against him, hips flush to his as he slouches against the door. He bends to mouth at the long smooth line of her throat.

“Talk to me,” he says, nipping at her earlobe. She shivers.

“Fuck that,” she says hoarsely. “Didn’t bring you here to talk.”

“Don’t worry, I can multitask.” Sam nibbles at the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, working delicate skin between his teeth, and pops the button of her jeans. He slides a hand down, teasing her clit with his fingertips, and repeats: “Tell me what you like.”

“I like a lot less conversation and a whole lot more nudity,” Faith tosses back, but her voice is ragged, and she tilts her head to the side, baring her neck for his teeth. “I don’t fuckin’ know, dude, are we doing this or not?”

He bends just enough to scoop her up, and she goes with it, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he cups her ass with both hands. When he turns them around, slamming her back against the door and rolling his hips, Faith lets out a breathy sound of surprise.

He drags his open mouth up the side of her throat and repeats, “Talk to me.”

She pulls him up by the hair, forcing his head back, rough and perfect, and Sam moans against her lips as she kisses him. It’s more like a bite, all teeth and heat.

“Bedroom’s that way,” she says huskily.

She’s so strong, rock-solid where she’s wrapped around him, that it’s barely an effort to carry her through the small, spare living space. She’s got her hands in his hair and her teeth scraping his collarbone, and Sam grits his teeth against the sting as he kicks the door shut behind them.

“Get your fuckin’ clothes off already,” she rasps, tugging at his flannel, and he strips both his shirts off obligingly, leaning back against the wall to balance as he discards them without putting Faith down.

She lets go of his neck to help him, holding herself up with no support other than her abs and her thighs. Sam’s just as turned on by that casual display of strength as by the sight of bare skin — no bra — when she peels her tank top off. He hoists her a little higher, until he can flick his tongue over one hard pink nipple. He blows a stream of cool air over the sensitive skin and she shivers, thighs squeezing his sides as she arches her back.

“What do you want?” Sam whispers, and laves his tongue over the other nipple.

“Fuck, anything, you’re killin’ me here.”

“Anything?” He scrapes pebbled skin with his teeth, savoring the way she squirms.

“Want you naked. Now.” She twists out of his grasp like a cat, sliding down his front and landing gracefully on her feet. Gracefully but loudly, that is; she crouches to deal with her big chunky boots, and Sam toes off his own.

He grins down at her as she tugs on his belt, admiring the way her mouth looks: bright red from his teeth, now, with the last smudges of lipstick smeared down her chin.

Sam bats her hands away from his zipper. He picks her up before she can argue and tosses her bodily onto the bed, and she bounces on the mattress, her hair spilling across the sheet like a dark glossy halo. She lifts her hips to get her jeans off, her torso bowing up in a long elegant curve.

Neither of them hide the way they check each other out when the clothes are finally out of the way. Sam kneels on the bed, looking down at her, and she bites her lip, tracking the movement of his hand as he strokes himself lazily.

“Is this what you want?” he asks. “Ask for it.”

Her eyes sparkle, mischievous and defiant, and she moves so fast that Sam’s taken by surprise when she grabs him — he can’t remember the last time that happened to him, let alone in bed. She pulls him down on top of her and rolls them over, switching their positions, and Sam laughs breathlessly as she pins his wrists to the pillow on either side of his head.

“I don’t like takin’ orders,” she says smugly.

“Is that true?” Sam counters. “Or have you just never met anybody who knows how to give orders?”

She looks startled by that, but instead of responding, she straddles him — sinks down on him wet and tight and perfect — and Sam has to grit his teeth and close his eyes for a moment, adjusting to all that sudden slippery heat around him.

There’s a gratifyingly breathless note in her voice when she says, “Does it matter? Point is, I can take care of myself.”

She’s not fucking kidding about that part.

She arches into a spectacular back-bend, supporting herself with one hand and zero visible effort. Her other hand is between her legs, rubbing her clit hard and fast as she bucks her hips up in little jerky rocking movements — and there’s an image that will (hopefully) be seared into Sam’s memory until the day he dies. For a moment all he can do is watch and try to memorize it. Then he presses the heel of his hand into her lower belly, grinding into her as best he can, and she clenches around him, soaking and squeezing in pulses so intense it almost hurts as she comes with a rough, husky moan.

“This is gonna be fun,” Sam breathes, and he tugs her upright for one searing kiss before flipping her onto her stomach.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Sam offers to wash her hair, she reacts like he just proposed marriage, except instead of an engagement ring, he’d offered her a grenade pin — shock, disbelief, and more than a little fear.

“Please tell me this is a kinky thing,” she says warily, and Sam laughs, tilting his head back in the spray and sluicing water from his face with both hands. When he looks down at her again, she’s still got her lip curled and her defenses up.

“It’s not a kinky thing,” he says, rolling his eyes.

She can’t get far in the shower stall, but she turns her back to him, and Sam’s forcibly reminded of a cat, licking her paws dry after accidentally stepping in a puddle.

“I can wash my own damn hair. Shit, don’t get all touchy-feely on me.”

Sam’s had a lifetime of practice at remaining earnest in the face of someone who’s determined to pretend they don’t want his kindness. He knows better than to give up that easily.

“Come here,” he says, smoothing his hands up her sides. She doesn’t relax, exactly, but she doesn’t shy away. “Faith. Different universe, remember? Not a romantic thing. I just want to touch you.”

She takes a reluctant half-step back, settling against him without a word.

Sam squirts a dollop of shampoo into his palm, tilting her chin up so that her head falls back, and he massages her scalp with his fingertips, rubbing in firm circles.

“Keep your eyes closed for me,” he tells her quietly, maneuvering her into the spray, but he shields her face carefully with one hand as he starts to rinse the lather out, making sure the bubbles don’t go anywhere near the fan of her spiky-wet lashes. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” she croaks, barely audible under the sound of the water. “S’ not so bad.”

“Speaking of kinky things,” he says casually. “We should talk about that.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you like? What’s your safeword?”

“Safeword?” She snorts, dismissive. “What, you really think you could dish out somethin’ I couldn’t take?”

Sam clenches his jaw. He’s glad her back is to him so she can’t see the expression on his face right now.

There are no more bubbles in her hair, but he keeps running his hands through it, just to have something to do as he figures out how to say this.

“I don’t think there’s much you couldn’t take,” he tells her softly. “I think you might be the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Damn straight,” she mutters, mollified.

Sam squeezes out some conditioner, finger-combing it through her hair.

“You don’t trust me,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Fuck no,” she replies promptly. “Why would I? Trust is something you gotta earn.”

Sam’s mouth twists into a smile. “Fair enough. But… it’s not about seeing how much you can take. It’s about you trusting me to stop, no questions asked, if you say that word. You want me to take control, I’ll do it. Believe me, I’m down. But not until you trust me. If you think you can do that, all you gotta do is ask. Okay?”

She takes a breath like she wants to say something, but she seems to think better of it. She lets out a sigh, looking at him — through him — and all he gets is a subdued, “Yeah, okay.”

Sam tilts her head back gently again, working his fingers through her hair until the little crease of a frown fades from her forehead. He turns her in his arms, cradling her against his chest, and she lets him, resting her cheek over his heart.

“Poughkeepsie.”

“Gesundheit.”

“Cute. It’s a city where I — I was in over my head, one time, and I needed help. That’s my safeword.”

She pulls back, looking up at him, confusion written all over her face. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you.”

“Really?”

Sam shrugs. “If somebody offered you a lot of money to kill me, I’d sure as fuck be watching my back. But… as far as respecting boundaries? Here and now, just you and me? Yeah, I trust you completely.”

Faith stares, scanning his expression for a hint of a lie, but when she doesn’t find one, her eyes soften. Her lips curl briefly into a pleased little smile.

“Didn’t really take you for the submissive type.”

“I’m not.”

She cocks her head thoughtfully, gaze calculating, and prods, “Go on, then. You’re the one who wants to talk about everything.”

“No bodily fluids.”

“With you on that one. There’s good freaky fun and then there’s just freaky. What else? Bet you’d look real pretty tied to my bed.”

“No chains. Ropes, cuffs, that’s fine — no chains. Um.. pain isn’t a big deal. I’d rather you didn’t draw blood, but… as far as pain goes, don’t worry about pushing too far.”

“Tryna be a tough guy?”

“No. Just telling you the facts. Temperature play is a hard limit. Ice, especially.”

“Okay. So… if I wanted to blindfold you, tie you up, and ride your face for a while…”

“Works for me.” She gets out of the shower without another word, grabbing a towel, all business, and he laughs. “Somebody’s in a hurry.”

“You’ve got like sixty seconds before the hot water runs out and it gets all end-of-Titanic in there.” She flashes him a grin. “Also, yeah. Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * *

She pretends she’s asleep, for a while, but then she slips out of bed, and her bare feet don’t make a sound as she navigates the apartment in the dark. He hears the toilet flush, water run, then the creak of… something.

He gives her a minute to herself before he gets up, just as silent as she was, and follows the smell of smoke to the open window. She’s leaning on the sill, silhouetted by the filtered yellow light of street lamps, and when she takes a drag the orange ember flares in the dark.

“Jesus, fuckin’ scared the shit outta me,” she snaps. The Boston in her voice comes out strong when she’s startled. When she offers him the last bit of the cigarette he takes it, grabbing her wrist with the other hand, and throws it out the window as he pulls her close.

“Hey, I was smokin’ that,” she protests, voice crackly like there’s a popping fire down in her chest.

Sam traces the curve of her cheek. He brushes one curled knuckle back and forth over her lower lip and then drags the pad of his thumb over the pillow of it, watching the soft give as he presses down. Her tongue darts out to flicker over his thumb, but otherwise, she’s motionless.

Faith takes his wrist, holding his hand to her mouth, and swirls her tongue over the pad of his thumb. Then she slides his index and middle fingers into her mouth, sucking on them shamelessly. They slide from her lips with a wet pop. A bolt of heat thuds through Sam’s gut — he’s only human.

“I like your hands,” she purrs, with one last suggestive lick.

“Something in particular you want me to do with them?” he asks.

She hesitates and presses a kiss to the center of his palm before answering: “I bet you have some ideas.”

“Tell me what you want, Faith.”

For a second there’s a deer-in-headlights vulnerability in her huge dark eyes, and she can’t hide the slight frown that flickers across her face.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” she whispers. She’s still holding his wrist. Sam twists to lace his fingers through hers instead, letting their joined hands drop palm-to-palm.

“Because sex isn’t fun for me unless everybody’s getting what they want. Call me crazy, but…”

“I brought you here, didn’t I? You know I want it. That’d be good enough, for most guys. Believe me, if you do somethin’ I don’t like, I’ll tell you about it.”

Sam closes his eyes, thinking of a half-dozen possible answers to that question. He considers telling her about Meg and Gadreel and all the other things that have slithered in over the years and used his body without his permission. He feels a phantom pain in his palm and remembers Lucifer’s taunt — you let me in — and he considers telling her about why he can’t stand the feel of ice or the rattle of chains.

He settles for the most fundamental answer: “Because you deserve to get what you want. You deserve better than ‘good enough.’”

She digests that silently for a moment, and then she guides his hand firmly to her hip, before grabbing the other and placing it flat on her breastbone.

“Just… touch me?” she asks, and Sam smiles, shifting closer, running his hands over her skin: fingertips in the dip of her throat, thumb stroking her collarbone, palm sweeping up and down her side, gentle and deliberately innocent.

“Why does it bother you so much when I ask?” he says softly.

She grimaces, and for a second it looks like she’ll brush it off, make a joke of it.

“Not used to it, I guess. Most guys don’t ask. I think guys look at me, they make some assumptions, you know?”

“Such as?”

She shrugs. “Guess they figure I’m down for anything.”

“Faith.”

“Don’t. Anyway, it’s more than that. Most people, they only offer to give you something if they want something in return.”

“What do you think I want from you?”

“That’s what’s got me spun out. Figured you just wanted a great lay, but… you’re still here.” She drops her gaze. “Bein’ all sweet and shit.”

Sam tries to hide his smile. “Should I not be?”

“Can’t figure you out,” Faith mumbles. “You’re different.”

Sam thinks about that for a moment as he folds to his knees in front of her. He drags his mouth down the center of her chest, tasting salt, and nips at the soft skin under her belly-button.

“How do you mean?” He looks up at her again, holding eye contact as he traces her hipbone with his tongue.

“I’m not the kinda chick that sweet guys usually go for, you know?” She slides her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and Sam hums his approval. “The nice ones know better. I’m the girl all the bad guys want.”

“That seems a bit reductive, don’t you think?”

“See, shit like that. Your mouth’s an inch away from my pussy and you’re using words like reductive.”

“I just want you. All of you, not just the ‘nice’ parts or the shit you show most guys.”

“Might not be saying that if — oh. Do that again.”

“Faith, trust me when I say that whatever you’ve done, I’ve done worse.”

“Jesus, can we talk about this later?”

“What do you want?”

“Want you to get your ass back in bed and quit teasing, for starters.”

“I can do that.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“The fuck did you find in the fridge?” Faith asks hoarsely.

“Beer and pickles,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin.

She’s leaning against the frame of the bedroom door, wearing his flannel and nothing else. It’s open, baring a long slice of pale skin, from the dip between her breasts and down her stomach to a neat trail of dark hair. She looks like a centerfold, but rumpled and sleepy-eyed and real, human, in a way that makes it so much hotter.

“You went out.” She frowns at the front door.

“Are you surprised I came back?”

“Honestly? Not really.” Sam hides his smile at that answer. “Except that door’s supposed to lock automatically.”

“It does. I picked the lock.”

“Anything you can’t do?” Faith comes over and hoists herself up onto the counter next to him, eyeing the pan of bacon eagerly.

“Never been good at walking in heels.” Sam passes her the extra large to-go cup of dark roast he’d gotten her from the local coffee place, and she grins.

“Shit, you really know how to spoil a girl.”

Sam puts a hand on her bare thigh, thumb running back and forth idly as he takes her in, tracing the shape of her body with his eyes. She gives him a raised eyebrow and sips her coffee quietly. There’s none of the wariness or put-on swagger from last night. She just seems comfortable.

“No bruises,” he says, hand sliding up higher, finding nothing but unblemished skin where he knows he left marks. Every imprint of Sam’s teeth and hands and hipbones has melted away.

“Slayer healing.” She leans back on her palms, inviting him to touch more. Sam pulls his hand away — pancakes to flip — but he smirks.

“That’s a shame. They looked good on you.”

Faith’s eyes go dark. “Yeah?”

“I’ll just have to leave some more… later. Breakfast is ready.”

Faith eats with an indecent enthusiasm that reminds him of Dean, but somehow that doesn’t surprise him. Which… speaking of Dean — Sam borrows her cell as they’re finishing breakfast, because apparently other universes aren’t included in his roaming service, and a sleepy female voice picks up.

“Faith?”

“Sam, actually. Is my brother around?”

“Sam? Did you… you and Faith?” Buffy’s voice goes a little squeaky at the end. Then there’s indistinct scuffling.

Faith swipes her index finger through the maple syrup that’s left on her plate, sucking it clean, hollowing her cheeks in a way that’s pretty fucking distracting.

“Sammy?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Hey. You didn’t even notice I was gone, did you?”

“Where are you? Who’s Faith?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says. “Did Charlie fix the thing?”

“Uh, hang on.” There’s a muffled conversation on the other line.

Faith gets up, walking around the table to pick up Sam’s plate, her movements slinky and deliberate, her hips swaying, showing off tantalizing glimpses of skin as his flannel skims the curves of her body. He twists around to watch her go. Faith sets both plates in the sink and stretches, and the flannel rides up her thighs.

“Pretty sure Charlie’s not awake yet either,” Dean says. “Late nights all around. Go team. Should we save you some breakfast?”

“No, I’m busy.”

Dean is saying something, but Sam’s not really paying attention. Faith is leaning on the table, bent at the waist, the flannel riding up to expose the lower curve of her ass. Sam turns in his chair to raise an eyebrow at her, pointedly adjusting himself in his jeans. She smirks like the cat who got the cream.

“Just call this number when you need me, Dean,” Sam says abruptly, cutting him off. “See you later.” He hangs up before Dean can get a protest in.

She bats her eyelashes, sugary-sweet. “Sorry, did I distract you?”

“Don’t lie. You’re not sorry at all.” Sam shakes his head, mock-scolding, and gives her a light tap, mostly to watch the way her flesh jiggles just right under his hand.

She grins, wiggling her hips and spreading her legs a little wider. “If you’re gonna do it, do it like you mean it.”

There’s a long, weighted pause.

“Are you asking me for —”

“Fuck yes I am.”

“Faith…”

She’s quiet but sincere when she says, “I trust you.”

Sam exhales sharply, and because she looks nervous, now, he quips, “Should’ve known bacon would do the trick.” She laughs at that and relaxes, so he stands up slowly and asks, “Safeword?”

“Dorchester.”

Sam smiles — equal parts amused by the word choice and touched by the trust. He runs a hand down her back and then up again, taking the soft fabric with him, rucking it up. He takes his time, drawing it out to watch the way she pouts, positioning himself behind her and flattening a palm between her shoulderblades to push her down. She braces herself on her forearms.

“Good girl.”

“Well?”

“Be patient.”

“Fucking hit me already,” she says sulkily.

“You can have anything you want,” he promises her, and he grabs a handful of hair, yanking her head back. “You just have to ask for it. Politely.”

He hears the way she sucks in a breath, ragged and desperate, and he smiles.

“Please spank me. Hard.”

“Good girl,” he repeats. He steps back and squeezes before smacking her, nowhere near hard enough to hurt.

“C’mon, is that the best you’ve got?” she teases, laughing.

“You know it’s not.” He brings his hand down with a satisfying sound, and Faith groans.

“Harder,” she grits out.

The next one makes her cry out, ragged and ecstatic. He hits her again, hard enough that his palm smarts, wrist snapping precisely so that the blows are spaced just right across her ass and her upper thighs.

By the time he pauses again she’s panting harshly. He takes a second to admire her, the pretty shade of red blossoming on her pale skin and the way she’s arching her back, putting herself on display for him.

“Fuck, you look good like this.” He kicks her feet farther apart and traces up her center with two callused fingertips. “So wet already, aren’t you?”

She tries to push back into it, to fuck herself on his fingers as she whimpers, “More?”

He lets loose, brings his palm down with a vicious crack, and he can see the way her legs start to shake.

“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He leans forward, grinding against her, letting her feel how hard he is through his jeans, and when he pulls back again she moans. Her skin is hot to the touch. He runs his fingers over it teasingly before sliding two fingers into her cunt, curling them, pumping and twisting as Faith curses and clenches around him.

“Need you,” she pants. “More.”

“Let me hear you,” he says. He pulls his fingers out and spanks her again, and she shudders, head bowed, pussy glistening wet.

“Please fuck me,” she breathes. He’s reaching for his belt before she gets the word out.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He rubs the head of his cock through her slickness, teasing, and when she tries to push back, his shaft slides between her lips, dragging along her clit. He bites back a groan and plants his left hand solidly at the base of her neck, forcing her to drop down with her cheek to the table, holding her in place.

“Shit,” she snaps. “Fuckin’ give it to me.”

“What did I say?”

“Want to feel that big thick cock, please,” she says. He can hear the wicked edge in her voice. “Want to feel you fillin’ me up when I come. Just fucking wreck me, Sam. Hold me down and make me scream… please.” She pauses and then asks smugly, “Fuckin’ polite enough for you?”

She could recite a grocery list in that ragged, raspy voice and it’d probably turn him on, at this point; as it is, he feels dizzy from sudden lack of bloodflow to his brain.

“We gotta work on those manners,” he says softly, and pushes into her, just a couple inches, before sliding out again. She whines.

He does it over and over again — one torturously shallow thrust after another — working her open with little rocking motions that are nowhere near enough. She whimpers, and he watches, clocking every shudder that runs up her spine, every involuntary quiver as he fucks into her a little deeper, slick spreading up the flushed-dark length of his cock with each stroke.

It takes every last shred of his self-control, but he forces himself to move slowly, deliberately, until she’s dripping wet and slamming her fists into the table.

Finally, she caves, sobbing two syllables like they’re the only words she remembers: “Please — Sam — please — Sam — please —”

“That’s better,” he sighs, and grabs her by the hips, shifting until he finds the spot that makes her twitch and squirm. She quakes when he hits it dead-on, and he sets an unrelenting pace, fucking her so hard the table hammers against the wall, a rapid-fire counterpoint to her broken, drawn-out cries.

Faith bucks helplessly as she comes, and Sam lets go a split-second later, half collapsing forward as he grinds into her one last time. He braces himself with both palms flat on the wood, and his knees threaten to give out.

His first coherent thought is amazement that the table is still standing, and while he’s trying to remember how to speak, Faith mumbles, “Shit, can’t believe we haven’t broken any furniture yet.” Sam laughs so unexpectedly he almost chokes, and maybe it’s contagious, because Faith starts giggling too.

Sam maneuvers them onto one of the chairs in a messy pretzel of sweat and skin and half-discarded clothes. A surge of pure giddy affection swells in his ribcage, and he wraps his arms around her, squeezing tight, tickling her with his stubble against her neck until she shrieks and twists.

Faith turns her head at an awkward angle to kiss him. Then she mumbles, “Is there more bacon? I could go for more bacon.”

“Anything you want.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Faith stretches extravagantly as she gets up from the opposite end of the couch, and his flannel slips off her shoulders. She lets it fall as she pads over to the fridge.

“Have I mentioned today how good you look naked?” Sam asks.

She pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge and strikes a goofy, mock-sexy pose. “No, but go right ahead.”

“You look really fucking good naked.”

“Not so bad yourself.” She passes him a bottle and sprawls out with her legs draped across his lap. “Why’d you put your clothes back on, anyway?”

“Hot bacon grease and nudity isn’t a good combo. Trust me.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience talking there.”

“Not personal experience,” Sam says with a smirk. “Dean, though…”

She laughs. He tosses the last bite of bacon at her, and she catches it in her mouth.

“Not cooking any more though, are you?” she asks archly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He obliges, though, stripping unceremoniously, and Faith catcalls. She crawls into his lap when he sits back down, leaning in for a kiss that tastes like beer.

“Much better,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead to his.

“Really thought I might’ve tired you out there.”

“Honestly? Yeah, I need a minute,” she confesses, with a laugh. “Just wanted some eye candy.”

“At your service.”

She settles a little more comfortably in his lap, straddling him, and they exchange slow, lazy kisses. Sam can’t bring himself to stop kissing her. Her lips are soft and plush, and every brush of her tongue and nip of her teeth feels like a luxury, like something he should treasure, because he knows this intimacy has an expiration date.

They stare at each other for a long moment, sweet and almost shy.

Sam offers, “Want to watch a soap opera on mute and make up our own dialogue?”

Her dimples really show when she’s surprised to find herself smiling. She grabs their beers and the remote from the milk crate that serves as her coffee table, raising her bottle in a toast, and then she curls up at Sam’s side, naked and soft and bruised. She fits under his arm like she was meant to be there.

It’s the happiest Sam can remember being in a long time.

Normal, he thinks. This is what normal people do — breakfast and kisses on the couch — tenderness and softness and quiet everyday vulnerability.

Then again, neither of them are normal, not really. Maybe that’s why Sam feels so comfortable with her.

* * * * * * * * * *

This time, she passes him the shampoo without a word, sighing as he cradles the back of her skull with one hand and smooths the hair back from her forehead with the other. When he’s finished, hazy honey-colored eyes blink up at him slowly, like she’s coming out of a trance. It’s a dizzying change from the last time they did this.

They haven’t said goodbye yet and he already misses her — misses this — but he knows he’s lucky to have it for a moment, however brief.

The scalding water feels like heaven on his sore muscles. Sam tilts his head to the side, trying to stretch, and his neck makes a series of popping noises. Faith winces in sympathy.

“Shit, man,” she chuckles. “You sound like Rice Krispies.” She maneuvers around him in the narrow space, reaching up to dig her knuckles into one of his many knots. Sam groans, exaggeratedly pornographic.

Her hands are small, but strong, and Sam’s melting under her palms, increasingly loose-limbed and pliant as she works her thumbs in circles down the muscles on either side of his spine.

“We should get out of here before I forget how to stand up,” he mutters, and Faith laughs. “I think it’s your turn.”

“I like the sound of that.”

She lays herself out on the bed, stomach down, and Sam takes a moment to stare. The way she’s put together — sleek muscle and lush curves under creamy skin — is like art. If she was anyone else, Sam might call her delicate, but he knows better; he knows exactly what she can do. She’s a hurricane disguised as a porcelain doll.

He looks down at his own rough fingers, thickly callused from pencils and triggers and punches, and grabs a bottle of lotion from the dresser before he settles on the bed, straddling her hips. His hands seem massive on her shoulders, and when he drags his palms down, wrapping his fingers around the slim curve of her waist, he marvels at the way she almost fits in the circle of his grasp.

He loses himself in the pleasure of just touching her — in the glide of silky skin under his fingers — in the soft grunts and hums she lets out when he works his fingers into a particularly tight knot. He sweeps his thumbs down the pretty little dimples at the small of her back and then lower, caressing and kneading. He’s careful to avoid pressing on the dappled purple-red bruises from earlier, but he skims them appreciatively, feather-light.

“Do those hurt?” he whispers.

“Little bit. I like it.”

He was already half-hard, aroused in a distant, lazy sort of way, but his dick twitches at that.

He brushes his fingertips down the outsides of her thighs, then up the insides, watching the way she spreads her legs wider for him, but he stops just short of the apex, tracing out along the creases where her ass meets her legs instead.

This feels like a form of worship.

Sam bends to press his mouth to the small of her back, kissing one dimple then the other. He trails sweet open-mouthed kisses down the curve of her ass, lips dragging reverently over velvety skin, licking and sucking along the tops of her thighs, drinking in the way she whimpers and shivers.

“More?” she murmurs.

Sam hooks an arm around her, sliding his forearm under her hips to cant them up so he can lick a thick stripe right up her center, swiping his tongue down and up again with a slick slurping noise. The angle isn’t comfortable but it’s fucking hot; it feels like he’s completely surrounded by her, like this, and when he licks deeper, fucks her shallowly with his tongue, the taste of her arousal floods his senses, until the soapy-clean smell of freshly-showered skin is lost under salty-sweet musk and Sam’s mouth and chin are a mess of slick and spit.

She’s trembling as she repeats, “More.”

He drags his tongue in one broad swipe from her clit up between her ass cheeks, and she curses, pressing back against his mouth. He twists two fingers into her cunt, feeling her clamp down around his scarred knuckles and shudder under his mouth, a frisson of pleasure that travels all the way up her spine. He curls his tongue against tight muscle and crooks his fingers, circles her swollen clit with his thumb, and she muffles a sharp cry into the pillow as she comes.

“More — please — Sam?” she gasps, still clenching around him, so wet he can hear the sound of his fingers pumping into her one last time.

He slides on top of her, blanketing her body with his, kissing the nape of her neck as he presses into her. She reaches back and fists a hand in his hair, making a rough wordless noise that sounds like a question, and her fingers twist until his scalp stings and Sam groans. He sits up, straddling her legs, and his entire body throbs with the pulse of blood in his cock as he fucks her. With her legs together like this, pinned under him, she feels so impossibly tight — velvety-soft and steely all at once — he can barely see straight.

She’s crying out with every gasping breath: “More — please.”

Sam wonders what he could do if he could learn her body, learn what she likes, learn how to take her apart in seconds or draw it out until she’s a writhing mess… if he had just a little more time with her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Faith is wrecked and gorgeous on top of him, not riding him so much as undulating: deep scooping twists of her hips, rising and falling syrupy-slow like she’s moving underwater. There’s dark sweat-soaked hair clinging to her temples and a hazy-eyed, rosy-cheeked expression of bliss on her face. Sam watches a droplet of sweat trickle down between her breasts.

He’s losing his grip on time and the boundaries that used to sit so decisively between them. They’re both exhausted to the point that everything seems a little surreal, dreamy, right in that sweet spot where they might be too tired to come again but languid, sensual sex still feels amazing.

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers. “Just like that.”

Faith tilts forward to kiss him, melting against his chest as she rolls her hips. He wraps her up in his arms and flips them, still inside her, still twined around her. He rocks into her, testing one angle and then another, hitching her leg up higher around his waist, grinding and swiveling until he finds the angle that makes her choke out a curse and clutch at his biceps.

“There,” she whimpers.

Heat starts to pool low in his gut, building slowly but inevitably. He leans down to kiss her, tasting salt, mouths brushing clumsily between deep ragged breaths.

“Gorgeous like this.”

“Sam,” she says helplessly, in the shredded whisper that’s left of her voice. “This — you —“

“I’ve got you, it’s okay. I know.”

Neither of them are particularly coherent, but he knows.

Gold rays of sun slant through the blinds in stripes, illuminating the amber in her irises and the suspicious shine gathering in the corner of her eyes. She smiles up at him in a way that leaves him breathless. It takes him by surprise, the trust in her expression and the heaviness in the moment, and he knows she can feel it too.

Sam wants to shy away from it, but he can’t take his eyes off her.

“Where’s that Al Green soundtrack when you need it, huh?” she manages, and it shocks a breathless laugh out of Sam. Faith giggles too, choked-up and overtired and hoarse. Sam can feel her laugh, feels the rippling clench of wet-hot muscle around him; his body reacts with this gut-punch of arousal, and he snaps his hips, driving in deep. She lets out a rough moan and writhes under him, raking her nails down his back.

From there it builds fast, wild and uncontrollable and blinding, both of them clawing at each other, moving on pure animalistic instinct, lost in each other — lost in the moment. It’s the sort of orgasm that hits like a blackout, like Sam’s out of his body for a few seconds that might as well be an eternity.

When he comes to, he’s whispering nonsense into the sweat-slick crook of her neck — babbling endearments, calling her baby — saying sweet stupid things she would never accept if she was in her right mind, but she doesn’t argue; he’s grateful. In return, Sam pretends not to notice the tears sparkling in her eyelashes.

They’re not sad tears, he knows that much. She’s beaming up at him, all this messy pure human happiness shining in her eyes. She’s beautiful.

Eventually they stop shaking, and Sam whispers, “Nap?”

“Yeah.”

She tucks herself under his chin, and he strokes her hair, counting the breaths before she drops off. She’s asleep in ten, and Sam loses count at eleven.

* * * * * * * * * *

They’re woken in disorienting darkness by a jangling ringtone, and Sam’s immediate instinct is to grab the gun he keeps under his pillow. There’s no gun, though — just a warm naked girl draped over him, cursing like a sailor as the phone continues to ring — because there’s no need for a gun here.

Faith answers the phone by growling a suggestion that sounds anatomically improbable, and Sam hears Dean’s gruff baritone on the other end. He snatches the phone out of her hand.

“S’the middle of the fucking night, Dean,” he grumbles.

“Dude, it’s nine. When was the last time you were asleep by nine?”

“Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes and fights the urge to hang up, turn the phone off, and burrow under the sweat-soaked sheets to sleep until he actually feels rested for once. “Yeah, okay, be there soon.”

Sam is about to apologize for waking Faith, but she sits up too, switching on the lamp, looking around bleary-eyed.

“Gonna walk with you as far as the graveyard,” she says, through a yawn. “Vamps don’t take a night off.”

Sam feels like he got hit by a goddamn truck, sore and achy all over, but the exhaustion goes much deeper than that. In spite of it, he’s smiling as they dress.

They’re quiet, nothing but a soft, “You see my other sock?” interrupting the heavy silence. They don’t touch as they leave the dark apartment and head down the dingy stairwell into the warm California night, and they don’t talk. They’re pulling themselves together — rebuilding the walls that separate them from normal people — putting on the emotional armor that allows them to fight the battles they have to fight.

They don’t wander away from the path through the cemetery, this time, and the monsters don’t find them. When they reach the gate on the other side, Faith stops.

“You know how to get back from here?”

“Yeah.” He pulls her in by her jacket to kiss her, deep and bruising.

She pulls away enough to mutter, “Fuckin’ figures you’re from another goddamn universe.”

“If things were different —”

“They’re not, though,” Faith says, smiling ruefully. “And that’s for the best.”

“Probably wouldn’t end well, would it? ”

“We’d never get outta bed, the monsters would take over. Every universe needs its heroes, right?”

“Right.” Sam cradles her face in his hands to give her another soft kiss and says, “Take care of yourself.”

Faith steps back. “Always do.”

She turns, pulling a stake out of her jacket as she stalks away, off the path toward the darker corners of the graveyard. Sam watches her go.

She doesn’t look back, but before she’s out of earshot, she shouts, “Quit starin’ at my ass and go save the world already. You’ve got work to do.”

Sam laughs, and then he rolls his eyes and starts walking, smiling to himself. She’s not wrong.

#1kclassicrockchallenge #sam winchester fic #sam winchester #faith lehane #btvs #spn #supernatural #spn x btvs #supernatural x buffy the vampire slayer #crossover fic #sam winchester x faith lehane

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 4 years ago

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💌Thurs 3 Dec ‘20🌤

More Harry content today-- another Golden video!! The behind the scenes video, set to the song, features some of the bits we saw that they were filming but that weren't used like the boat scenes and the purple pajama outfit and the big flowery hat, plus a pebbles and bambam shirt and lots of water, Harry is smiley and giggly and relaxed and having fun in the sun. I'm cold and at home and wildly jealous, but also warmed by the treat of getting to see unguarded happy Harry, frolicking with his tits out in the beautiful sunshine looking young and carefree. And that's not all- more pictures from the DWD set, Harry and two others in all red outifts, more pics from the Variety shoot, an adorable screen grab from the interview (Harry on zoom), and we discovered what was custom about the Palomo Spain outfit seen in the banana photo- can you guess? Yes, it was originally a tan linen looking thing but was remade for him to be That Shade of Blue! And another article from the Variety, this one about Harry and the 'lost art of song sequencing' and how much thought and care went into the organizing of Fine Line. They have quotes from Harry and from Kid Harpoon telling us that the first and last tracks were never in doubt, but working out how things would play out in between involved trying out “just under a hundred” different options. Harry says, “I care about the way that things run- how that makes me feel and the story that it tells.”

Liam did a the Letter to Your Ten Year Old Self segment for Radio1 (with video!) “Get ready,” it begins, “it's about to get a little bumpy... life is about to turn surreal.” He tells his younger self to hang on, that it's a marathon not a sprint, and talks about meeting Cheryl (yeah, the FIRST time: “when you turn 14 something magical is about to happen... you're about to meet the future mother of your child... I know it seems early but just trust me. I suggest you watch Back To The Future”), about fatherhood (“just look at all the things you've learnt along the way and surely that must mean you have a lot to give”) and about Maya, and after in talking about his letter mentions his recent conversations with Louis about band days. His cover of Let It Snow was added to his youtube, he shows up on Tik Tok with Abby Roberts, interrupting her WAP singalong to turn it into That's What WAP You Beautiful (That's WAP Makes you Beautiful was RIGHT THERE, I could sincerely cry, wtf) which I will leave to the intern to describe: “it's the whitest thing I've EVER seen” she texted me this morning, LMAO. And how was morning with our Roman and Liam alarm today? “It's day threeee” says Roman “we need to get christmas started” (DO WE guys IT'S THE THIRD) and interviews Liam about favorite xmas movies. Liam says Elf and Muppet Christmas Carol (yessss), and then he invites us to tell us our faves in a hashtag?? It's an alarm, it's an interview, we're starting trends, what is going on here. The sleep story is still 'coming soon,' you guyyyys hurry up please I need these soothing affirmations to balance out the morning 'get up and go christmas shopping' pressure!

And someone who says their friend knows Louis' massage therapist (have we checked to see if he wrote them a nice review on their website?) says that Louis' skin is very soft, and “WHY IS EVERYONE SO SURPRISED?” and Sam Fender says about us, “they’re so excitable, the Tomlinators, I think they just smack keyboards!” and “they’re crackers but they seem like a lovely bunch.” He's not wrong... well he is about what to call us but not about the other things.

#harry styles #liam payne #Louis Tomlinson #I do not hear Sunflower in the BTS video. The intern says she can make out two notes that could be it #in the background of a random part of the video... overall I gotta say-- I don't think you guys #would love to be wrong but like I don't think they'd tease something quite THAT subtlely #did the intern intend that take for the public well perhaps not but lollll #harry #liam #louis #abby roberts #sam fender #roman kemp #chiam #laya #bear payne #thats what makes WAP beautful would also be good but maybe thats a little too racy for tiktok

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kpophours · 4 years ago

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boyfriend!Zuho

fem. reader | fluff, no warnings | 782 words

ok, so - while Zuho is an extrovert and makes friends quite easily, he can be very shy too

meaning you‘ve been friends for a very long time but never anything more... speak about mutual pining

but he always smiles really brightly whenever he talks about you, and everyone just knows he‘s smitten

so either you (have to) make the first move or one of your mutual friends has finally had enough and sets you two up, and everyone is just like IT WAS ABOUT TIME

Zuho is a very soft and affectionate boyfriend

in public, he won’t be extremely clingy, but he still wants to be close to you. so hand holding is a must, he also likes to back-hug you or to leave a soft kiss on your forehead / temple from time to time

at home though, he will be your personal koala

even clings to you in his sleep, and always buries his nose in your hair, claims all the stress and anxiety immediately leave his body whenever he‘s surrounded by your scent

chill dates, rarely something flashy - takes you to his favorite coffee shops, shows you tiny record stores, takes you to street food festivals, and hosts game nights with friends (he often loses, but as long as everyone has fun, he‘s cool with that)

weekly movie marathons, but nothing scary because he simply cannot stand horror movies; he‘s a big admirer of Ghibli and has watched every movie at least twice Kiki is his fave because of her cat

tries to cook for you after you‘ve had a long, tiring day, but he‘s a mess in the kitchen, so you often just end up ordering food

gets better over time though, and soon, you leave almost all the cooking to him

loves baking with you and somehow always ends up with flour on his face. whines that he wants to taste the batter, and at first, you just playfully swat his hands away - but then you see how his eyes shine with almost childish happiness, so you finally let him he‘s just too cute

he loves cats, so he’s definitely going to adopt an almost unreasonable amount, calls them your children yes you’re a mom now

always talks in a soft, loving voice to them, and his hands are often full of scratches, because sometimes, his furry children just had enough of his affection

sings almost 24/7, and especially whenever he‘s showering, he also dances while cooking and often randomly grabs your hands to twirl you around

shows you every song he writes and asks for your honest opinion, takes what you say very seriously

writes a love song for you on your first anniversary which makes you cry, and is super worried at first WHY ARE YOU CRYING OMG I‘M SO SORRY PLEASE DONT CRY but when you kiss him passionately to express your feelings, he gets super flustered and giggly and quickly buries his face in your neck

always gets shy and flustered and super giggly whenever you compliment him

simple gesture to show his love and appreciation: brings back your favorite snack(s) whenever he goes grocery shopping, always finds the smoothest pebbles or most beautiful shells for the growing collection on your window sill, brings you a hot water bottle whenever you‘re cold, makes a cup of calming tea when you can’t fall asleep

sometimes he just randomly smiles when he looks at you. his eyes sparkle, his cheeks are slightly flushed and all the angles and edges of his face melt away. he’s just so happy and thankful to have you in his life - and even after years of dating, he still can’t believe he‘s lucky enough to be your boyfriend he‘s just so IN LOVE

stays up late with you whenever you have a project for school or work to finish. he works on new songs while you try to finish your project, sometimes glances at you to make sure you‘re not too tired already. brings you snacks and hot coffee, nuzzles your nose to see you smile.

he‘s a great listener. loves hearing you talk about your passions and always encourages you to tell him literally anything and everything. never gets bored of you, and you know he‘d never judge you for anything. he‘s your rock and biggest support, always

generally just so sweet, soft, supportive and loving. he‘s not just your boyfriend but also your best friend. he’s never afraid to show his love and affection for you

together, you’re that chill but always fun and happy couple everyone aspires to be

all in all just a wonderful, healthy and stable relationship with a 10/10 boyfriend

[masterlist] | [requests]

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popatochisssp · 4 years ago

Note

What will it take for the horrorswap boys to feel like brothers again? Will they ever? It hurts to think that they'll stay the way they are forever! T^T

Of course they will! I could never leave them like that!

And for them, it’s a really simple reconciliation...

It’s only a matter of time.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans) is going around with a tight leash on his emotions, all the time, but especially around his brother-- look what happened the last time he let go and got a little too melty in front of Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus)--he can’t be the cause of that again, or maybe worse this time... Ell just needs to see him be strong and...and solid, in the figurative and literal sense, and then maybe someday he can forgive him for having been so weak and causing so much trouble.

Ell, on the other hand, can’t stand this version of his ‘brother,’ walking around like everything’s fine, going through all the right motions but with no emotion...like some kind of Merc Robot that got swapped out for his real brother. It’s... it’s weird! It’s creepy! It’s painful because it feels like the only person he really has left isn’t even real anymore, and that’s all his fault, too, so he can’t even...!

So y’know, they’re...they’re not really talking to each other much... Ell avoids and Merc doesn’t push it, so neither of them really has any idea what the other is actually thinking.

But it’s only a matter of time.

Because Ell...has a little bit of a temper that he can’t always tamp down on...at least, not before he’s already said the stupid, thoughtless, sometimes even mean thing--and that’s a sticking point for him, too, because he used to be nicer, he used to be so chill and maybe even actually fun to be around, but now all it takes is a bad mood or an unexpected frustration to make his words come out barbed and he doesn’t know why (spoiler alert: it’s the trauma that he keeps telling himself was nothing and not even that bad and it’s over now anyway, except that it’s really, really not)...

But...it’s only a matter of time before he lets something slip, one little pebble that kicks up all the other rocks to start crashing down the hill.

“i don’t even know you anymore...”

“.........IS THAT... DO YOU REALLY FEEL THAT WAY...?”

And when Ell turns around, stalled by the...the feeling in that sentence...

He sees his brother.

Caught between devastated and furious as much as he is between liquid and solid.

Because Merc is still here, he’s still him, he never changed, he never went anywhere, he’s just trying to keep everything together--for Ell!!!--because he doesn’t want to scare him again, he doesn’t want to hurt him again, and his brother has every right to be angry at him for what he did, he knows everything with the DT was his fault, but--

“your...what the hell are you talking about?! it was my fault!”

They argue, mostly over who gets to take the blame for everything, and can’t agree or even compromise, but by the time they realize that, they’re both crying and Merc is practically a puddle but...

That puddle is Ell’s brother: he’s not a robot or a stranger, he’s just Merc and...and he always has been, hasn’t he...?

They’ve both been kinda stupid, but they hug it out right then and there...or at least, as best as a couple brothers can hug it out when one them has to slide out of his chair just to be on the right level and the other is mostly goop on the floor.

Ell’s favorite black hoodie is pretty much ruined, but it feels like a small sacrifice when they’re sitting on the couch just a week later marathoning all the Alien movies. Ell tells a bad joke and Merc laughs and tells a worse one, and there’s a little bone-slime dripping onto the plastic-covered couch, but hey--emitting slime is just what brothers do.

At least, it’s what his brother does...for now!

#anonymous #horrorswap #hs!sans #hs!papyrus #headcanons #meta

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missmitchieg · 4 years ago

Text

Father's Day With The Molina Family

Julie woke up a couple of hours earlier than usual and got ready for the day as quietly as possible, pulling on a comfy sweater and lacing up her doodle sneakers. She sneaked out of the house and made a bee-line for the garage, pulling the doors open. "Morning, boys." She said with a smile.

Luke looked up from where he and Reggie were sat on the couch, quietly trying to figure out a melody for their latest new song and grinned, perking up. "Hey, Julie!"

"Hi, Julie!" Reggie smiled and gave a little wave, always happy to see his adopted sister and favorite lifer.

"Morning, Julie." Alex piped up from where he was sat in his chair, content to sit and listen to the music Luke and Reggie were making. "What's up?"

"Do you guys remember what day it is?" Julie asked.

"Uhhh, Sunday?" Luke tried after a few seconds of thinking, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched.

Julie snickered softly and pushed her hair off her shoulder. "It's Father's day."

"OH. Sweet!" Reggie nodded with a smile.

"Who wants to help me make breakfast in bed for dad?" Julie grinned as all three boys raised their hands and abandoned their seats, poofing into the kitchen. She shook her head and rolled her eyes fondly, leaving the garage to go back inside. As she walked inside, she was greeted with three ghost boys waiting for her in the kitchen.

Reggie was bouncing on his heels as he opened a pack of bacon, super excited to surprise Ray with some good food.

Luke was busying himself by grabbing ingredients to make pancakes.

Alex was grabbing an egg carton to make some scrambled eggs.

Julie chuckled as she washed her hands quickly and turned on the heat, dropping a few slices of bacon into the pan. She watched Alex wash his hands and crack a few eggs into the pan, handing him the spatula. She googled a recipe for pancakes and put her phone on the counter, pointing to things she couldn't reach for Luke or Alex to grab.

Julie started the coffee maker, having exactly how her father liked his coffee memorized after years of watching her mother make and pour Ray his cup of coffee every morning.

"Ok, instructions say whisk together one cup of flour, two tablespoons of sugar, two teaspoons of baking powder, and half a teaspoon of salt in a small bowl." Alex read aloud as he scrambled the eggs and seasoned them with salt and pepper. "Whisk together one cup of milk, two tablespoons of unsalted and melted butter, and one large egg in a medium bowl."

Luke nodded and grabbed the measuring spoons, tilting his head. "Teaspoon is the small one and tablespoon is the bigger one, right?" He asked just to be sure.

"Yeah, they're both engraved." Julie nodded. "The teaspoon says tsp and the tablespoon says tbsp."

"Oh, I see." Luke smiled and put the dry ingredients in the small bowl while Julie worked on measuring and pouring the wet ones, checking the next directions.

"What are you doing?"

Julie looked up when she heard Carlos, giving him a smile. "Breakfast for dad."

"Can I help?"

"You can grab strawberries and whipped cream." Julie offered.

Carlos nodded and did just that, stealing a strawberry for himself.

Julie chuckled, giving him an 'I saw nothing' look. "The boys said hi."

"Oh, hey." Carlos smiled, waving in the direction Julie pointed.

"Ok, now we gotta mix everything in the bigger bowl, but pour it slowly." Julie carefully poured the dry ingredients in with the wet while Carlos mixed it together.

"Luke, grab a paper towel and vegetable oil for me while I heat up the skillet."

Luke nodded and grabbed what Julie asked for, watching her oil up the skillet.

Julie poured the batter onto the skillet while Alex and Reggie flipped the bacon again.

When they looked bubbly enough, Luke surprisingly successfully flipped the nicely browned pancakes over.

Julie poured the coffee into Ray's favorite mug and poured in sugar.

The group finished cooking and decorated the food with strawberries, whipped cream and jam, sneaking upstairs to Ray's bedroom with a tray of food just as he was waking up.

"Morning, papa!"Julie smiled.

"Happy Father's Day!" The group of kids yelled cheerfully as Julie placed the tray into Ray's lap.

Ray perked up and rubbed his eyes as his half asleep brain registered the scene in front of him. He smiled as he sat up and shook his head at the food in his lap. He really did have the best kids in the world. "You kids made all of this?"

"Well, I grabbed whipped cream and strawberries and helped mix the pancake batter." Carlos shrugged with a smile.

"I love you kids."

"Love you, dad." Julie and Carlos said together and smiled, laughing when Carlos' stomach growled.

"Sounds like someone else needs some food in them." Julie joked with an eyeroll. "Come on. I'll pour your cereal." She told him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Enjoy your breakfast, dad." She said before walking back downstairs to the kitchen, the boys poofing down immediately. "Hey, boys."

Carlos laughed and sat at the counter, watching Julie grab a bowl and spoon.

"Which one do you want today? We've got Cocoa Puffs, Cheerios, Lucky Charms, or Fruity Pebbles."

"Are they chocolate or regular Lucky Charms?"

"Regular."

"Cocoa Puffs." Carlos decided.

Julie nodded and poured the cereal in, Luke pouring the milk. "Thanks, Luke." She smiled as she placed the bowl of cereal in front of Carlos, watching Alex toast more bread. She chuckled as he buttered the bread and placed strawberries and blueberries on top, presenting the plate to her. "Thank you, Alex."

"Having a bunch of ghost friends is so cool."

"I promise you it never gets less cool." Julie assured him and but into her toast. "Hey, how's a park picnic sound to you guys?"

"I'm in!" Carlos nodded before shoving a spoonful into his mouth.

"Me, too!" Alex agreed.

"And me!" Luke grinned.

"Me, too!" Reggie raised a hand.

"Everyone's in."

The kids waited for Ray to finish eating and come downstairs and immediately ran to him, giving their best puppy dog eyes. "Dad, can we go to the park today?"

"Yeah, let's have a picnic!" Julie clasped her hands together, bouncing on her heels. "It'll be fun!"

Ray raised his eyebrows at the sudden ambush, but was touched at his kids' insistence to spend the day together. He smiled and nodded, hugging them both tightly.

The family threw out the trash and put the dirty dishes away to clean at the end of the day, spending a few hours in front of the TV. They marathoned the Star Wars movies together, the phantoms sitting on the floor in front of them.

Later, the family started to prepare some food for the picnic and left the house, heading to the park.

Julie smiled as she found a nice spot to put down the blanket, sitting down in her blue dress. She watched her father and little brother sit down, Ray on her left and Carlos on her right.

They spent three hours at the park, one eating and the next two running and playing.

Later, the family went to a bowling alley, Julie currently having the most strikes.

Julie grinned as she threw the ball and hit her twelfth strike, the ghosts cheering for her. She was getting a little better at not reacting to them in front of people who still thought they were holograms, so she just smiled as she won the game and shrugged, sipping from her water bottle.

"How are you this good at bowling?" Carlos asked, shaking his head.

"Lucky day, I guess." Julie said simply. "Wanna play again?"

Carlos nodded, and the family ended up playing two more times, Carlos winning the second and Ray winning the last.

Eventually, they all decided they were exhausted and it was time to leave, so they went home and ate a quick lasagna dinner before the family crashed on the couch together.

"Woo! Best. Day. Ever!" Julie decided, leaning her head against Ray's shoulder.

"Agreed." Ray nodded.

"Definitely. We should do that every Father's Day."

"I'm down." Julie told them.

"Have I mentioned I love you?"

"Yes, papa." Julie chuckled. "We love you, too."

"Love you, dad."

Luke, Alex and Reggie smiled and high fived as he watched them, Julie discreetly smiling back at her boys.

Yep, this was definitely the best day ever.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #carlos molina #luke patterson #reggie molina #alex molina #ray molina #jatp fanfic

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kickingitwithkirk · 5 years ago

Text

The Coupon Book Of Love

Summary: Dean and Y/N have a falling out during a hunt and return not speaking. This upsets Jack who decides to help fix their relationship.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Confused Jack Kline, Mentions of Sam and Cas

A/N: for @winchester-fantasies #winchesterfantasies1000followerschallenge.

Word Count: 2623

Warnings: fluff, some arguments, ogling of m/f body, necking, mild language, implied sex

Prompt: 10. “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing fluff so hopefully it doesn’t suck and there was to be coupon photos included but I couldn’t get them the right size and had to delete.

*No beta, all mistakes are mine

*****

Jack Kline was sad.

Dean and Y/N had returned from a hunt not speaking to each other. This was not completely abnormal for them. Their relationship is one of extreme passions, running hot or cold depending on the day.

It was when Y/N moved back into her old room and Dean started drinking all the whiskey in the bunker they all knew something very bad had happened. Sam tried to find out what had happened but all he could get out of either of them was ask Dean or ask Y/N.

After Sam retired for the night, Jack went to his father Castiel and asked why do people who are in love like Y/N and Dean hurt each other?

He said that human love is complicated and had no definitive answer.

Jack could not let them go on like this. Y/N was perfect for Dean, she could help with his highs and lows, make him smile when he was in one of his dark moods and had an off kilter sense of humor that matched his.

So Jack turned to the internet looking for the answer.

He found all sorts of sites with recommendations how to: repair relationships, muddle through misunderstandings, blogs from magazines like Cosmo on how to fix things with your significant other, spice up your love life, even watching Dr. Phil on YouTube.

But most of the advice given was about vocalizing thoughts and feelings and Dean doesn’t do those things.

Jack starts thinking when they return from a hunt Y/N will say to Dean, “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” Dean’s eyes always lit up like the displays at Christmas when Y/N asks him for a cuddle. Which is weird because Dean is vocal that he doesn’t cuddle.

Sam teases Dean that Y/N’s secret code for nookie didn’t fool anyone. Dean tells him to shut up while smiling.

Jack shakes his head, is cuddle and nookie the same or are they different things...humans are very confusing.

He’s about ready to quit when he notices a tab for Pinterest that wasn’t closed yesterday and clicks on it. There were a few boards; cooking, pies, vintage cars, pinup girls.

Unlike what Sam is always saying, Dean does use the internet for more than watching porn.

Jack scrolls around for a while looking at other pins when he sees something. Tapping on the photo he reads the description. He likes the idea presented but it’s not quite right for Dean and Y/N...

...so he comes up with his own plan.

******

The Next Morning

Dean staggers into the kitchen looking for coffee. Lots of coffee after another night spent with Jack, Jim and some wild turkey. Going over to the pot he wonders why Sam hadn't made it after his morning run like usual. Dean sees a piece of paper taped to it with a typed message.

Please go to the library ASAP.

Dean ponders the note while the coffee is brewing and grudgingly heads there after pouring a mug. He is surprised to see Y/N standing by the table looking as tired as he felt. Then he notices a paper in her hand. “Got one too?” He asks, slowly moving to the other side, the table separating them.

She nods once in acknowledgment.

On the table between them is a letter and two small boxes with their names written on them. Dean slides the letter towards him and reads it out loud.

Dear Dean and Y/N,

I don’t like it when you fight, it makes me sad. You're treating your love as something disposable. I want you to be happy like before and since both of you are stubborn so I’ve come up with a way to help.

Each box possesses a specifically tailored coupon for each of you with extra, individual instructions accompanying it and must be completed together once a day in order.

Sam, Cas and I are on a hunt so you have the bunker to yourselves. Have fun.

PS: No peeking ahead-this means you Dean.

*****

CAR WASH

I can't believe I agreed to do this repeatedly going through Dean's head as he entered the garage after they had opened the boxes and shared their first coupons.

He’s grabbing the paraphernalia kept there for bathing his Baby when Y/N walks in wearing...oh crap...that button down plaid shirt tied up under her bust and those cutoffs made from an old pair of jeans of his that hug her curves just right.

Okay, if that’s how she want to play…game on baby.

Dean hands her a sudsy bucket giving her the look. Y/N blinks perplexed as he walks over turning on the faucet and starts wetting down the Impala.

She pulls out the sponge and starts soaping down the passenger side as Dean works on the drivers side. They watch each other, quickly looking away when caught.

By the time they meet at the trunk they're both wet, Dean’s t-shirts clinging, accentuating his torso and his jeans have molded to his bowed legs and scrumptious bum. Y/N abruptly hurries to the front of the car.

Dean, smirking to himself, makes the mistake of looking up through the windows. He can see Y/N stretching over the hood as far as she can reach, water and bubbles sliding over the slope of her breasts, nipples pebbled up under the material.

She bends down in front and he quietly steps to his right looking down the side of the car and can see her pert rear swaying in the air as she's scrubbing the grill. Dean reaches over the top of his jeans, pushing down his harding length.

“Okay, she's clean enough, I'll finish up here.” Dean gruffly states. Y/N pops up confused, “Um, are you sure, we haven't waxed yet.”

Dean feels himself flushing, that’s the last thing he needs right now is Y/N’s breasts bouncing as she's vigorously buffing his...car. “I forgot to get a new can, we’ll do it later.”

“I’ll go get cleaned up and meet you back here in an hour for the next part.” Y/N says as she leaves the garage hips swaying as she walks up the steps.

“Good thing were not leaving right away.” Dean mutters to himself grimacing at how his wet jeans have become way too constricting.

~~~~

Y/N slid the prepacked basket onto the trunk and shut it, hearing Dean come to a sudden halt and peered over the roof at him, taking in his flushed expression.

“Something wrong?” She inquires.

“I.. uh..I haven't seen you in that in a long time.” Dean stammers out awestruck waving his hand at Y/N’s appearance. Her hairs pinned up in loose waves and dressed in the tea length, off the shoulder summer dress he loves on her.

“Not the most practical thing to wear when chopping off a vamps head.” She quips.

“So, where are we going?” Dean asks, pulling the key out of his pocket.

“I’m to drive us...” she starts, “Nope, not happening sweetheart.” Dean steely interrupts.

Sighing Y/N walks over, “My instructions say I'm to drive to a predetermined location and I can't tell you where it is so I need the keys,” holding her hand out, “Please.”

Dean clenched his jaw reluctantly handing her the keys and got in the passenger side.

They drove for about an half hour, Dean glaring out the front window the entire time. Y/N turned onto a tree lined gravel road going a quarter mile before stopping. They sit in silence gazing out the front window astounded.

In front of them is an abundantly flowering meadow surrounding a small, private lake.

Jack couldn't have picked out a more perfect place.

“Sooo...what are we supposed to be doing?”

Y/N hands him the coupon reading…

ROMANTIC PICNIC

*****

MOVIE NIGHT

Y/N enters the Dean Cave not surprised Dean’s already settled in one of the recliners with pizza, popcorn and various other snacks spread out and a twelve pack Margiekugel cooling in the iced tub between the chairs.

They had spent the day doing various choirs separately around the bunker to give each other some space after yesterday. Y/N admitted to intentionally teasing Dean while washing the Impala and vice versa. During their picnic, something neither of them would ever normally do, they had fun together.

Dean seemed to be enjoying spending time together like they haven’t had much of lately but when they got back he decided to go out for a few cold ones instead of spending the evening in and pissing off Y/N.

“Ready for a marathon of The Man with No Name sweetheart?” Dean smugly asks trying to get a rise out of her. Y/N’s grabs some pizza and settling in the other chair takes a big bite of the meat lovers slice and chews slowly. Dean stares wondering why she hasn’t reacted, well aware Eastwood is not a favorite of hers.

Y/N finishes chewing, fishes a beer out of the tub opening it and after taking a long draw finally glances at Dean and flashes her coupon.

CONTROL OF THE REMOTE

“Sonovabitch,” Dean spits out, sinking in the chair cause knowing Y/N she’ll pick some long-ass, drawn out British dramedy that Sam’s the only one willing to watch with her, “I'm gonna get that Nephilim for this,” he pouts but will never admit he’s actually pouts.

A saccharin smile crosses Y/N’s lips as she takes the remote from him and brings up the menu to select a movie. Dean kills the beer in his hand and grabs another as she continues searching, occasionally clicking on one before going back undecided.

“Will you just pick something so we can get it over with.” Dean surly growls out, opening his fifth beer. Y/N gives him an annoyed huff pressing start.

Dean jerks upright in surprise at her choice, “Seriously, we're watching...”

“...I don't like spaghetti westerns but seems you forgot I do like slasher films,” Y/N interrupts, “and don't you dare tell Sam, he already thinks I'm off my beam since we got together as it is.”

“Alright and I'll not take that last part as an insult.” Dean happily agrees, snagging the popcorn/M&M’s bowl shoveling in a mouthful as Y/N rolls her eyes, settling in to enjoy an evening of some slice and dice together.

*****

HOME COOKED MEAL

‘’Argh! This is ridiculous, what made Jack think I could cook anything?” Y/N yells at the tablet sitting innocuous on the counter in front of her with the recipe Jack had picked out, taunting her.

Dean stopped in the doorway observing the mess Y/N is making of his kitchen. The flour bag is tipped over one counter spilling on the floor, the cutting board has something green cut into so many different shapes it's unidentifiable, other various items scattered about as the skillet on the stove is starting to smoke.

Then the alarm goes off screeching throughout the kitchen.

“Turn the stove off!” He yells over the alarm rushing over switching the stove off and grabbing a lid to smother the fire. Once it's out he turns on Y/N, “Are you trying to burn the place down? Don't you know not to set the heat on high under oil?”

“Yes Dean, I'm trying to burn the bunker down so I can get out of doing this!” Y/N screeches loudly waving the coupon in Dean’s shocked face.

He's never heard her like this, Y/N is one of those people that nothing outside of hunting makes her lose her cool, it’s one of the reasons he fell for her.

Dean approaches cautiously, reaches out placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly running his hands up and down her arms. “Baby, it’ll be fine but you need to calm down,” softly speaking in the soothing voice he used to use to calm Sam down when he was little and having a nightmare. “Now, what are we fixing for dinner?”

“Salmon Croquettes with wild rice and steamed asparagus.” Y/N glances over at the tablet, “I can’t understand why Jack would give me this, he knows I can’t even boil water outside of a tea kettle and...what do you mean we?”

“You really think Jack would intentionally let you cook anything outside of a bowl of cereal after the Cajun waffle incident?”

“They weren’t that bad.”

“Sweetheart, we had to buy a new waffle iron.”

“Alright Guy Fieri, what does yours say?” Dean pulls the coupon out of his pocket.

DESERT NIGHT

“I got your favorites and if you're a good girl,” Dean pauses, licking his lips teasingly, “I’ll let you decide how to devour them.”

*****

Dean grabs his jacket off the chair back and heads to the library looking forward to tonight's activities. Well, he’s part of it anyways since Y/N hinted hers was something he never ever did.

Dean steps up into the room and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Y/N sitting at the table in her outfit for evening.

“Damn sweetheart.”

“You don’t clean up to bad yourself Winchester,” Y/N remarks as she gets up walking around him, seeming to be mentally undressing him, “and since I don’t know where we’re doing tonight I was thinking that if you play your cards right,” she leans up, her voice husky next to his ear, “you might get lucky.”

Dean takes his plump lower lip between his teeth and slowly lets it slide out making Y/N’s breath hitch as they stare into each other's eyes.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Y/N inquiries in a slightly breather voice than normal.

DATE NIGHT

Dean slides his arms around her waist, “I was thinking of taking you somewhere you haven’t been in a while,” he leans down kissing along her collarbone, moving up the side of her neck, “depends on what your half of the evening entails.”

Y/N retrieves the coupon from her jeans back pocket and Dean groans, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

SLOW DANCE

“I was thinking we can do what this coupon literally says or we could interpret it a different way.”

“Okay, I'm listening.” Dean mumbles.

“Well, there was no specific instruction from Jack as to what type of slow dance...” Dean’s head snaps up, his pupils dilating to the point the mossy green color has all but disappeared as Y/N keeps talking about the different types of slow dancing they could try.

“What are you asking?” Dean interrupts, his whisky roughened voice is even more gravelly sounding as his aching with desire.

Y/N walks backwards till her hips bump against the library's table, hops up on it leaning back onto her elbows, “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

~~~~

Later that night

“So we agree we're not gonna tell them the real reason for our fight?” Y/N asks as she finishes braiding her shower damp hair, sitting at the foot of the bed. Deans leaning against the headboard with their last two coupons sitting upside down next to his sweat pant clad hip.

“They’ll think it’s stupid, especially Sam,” Dean remarks, “so, you ready to admit that Die Hard is a Christmas movie.”

“Nope, you're never gonna convince me,” Y/N pronounces as she climbs onto Dean's lap leaning forward to softly brush her lips over Dean's before sitting back and picking up the coupons turns them over...

YOU WIN THE FIGHT

“I think we better hang on to these, ya know, just in case.”

#winchesterfantasies1000followerschallenge #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #deanxreader #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #spn #dean winchester x you

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