#this was so cute to write aw sammy

[targaryenluvs]

LITTLE OLD ME? / SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: With the prospect of leaving you to find his father, Sam finds himself running out of time to tell you just how much you mean to him. But do you feel the same? And who’ll confess first?

WORDCOUNT: 2.6K Words

WARNINGS: Pining, jealousy, clueless Sam, teasing, confessions, angst, fluff, kisses, dual pov, arguments, THESE KIDS ARE CLUELESS!!! Lazy writing from me so I used the script

A/N: Set in season one! He’s too cute, he’s so cute I might just faint 😫 I’ll have some dark Sam soon don’t worry I always balance the scales 😋 Me… writing fluff?? unheard of! No Jess slander here too she’s your friend :P italics = flashbacks/thoughts/exaggerations HAHAH I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED MY NAME IN IM GOING TO KMS I’ve changed it now 🤣

AO3 Link

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Sam had first met you at a party.

A friend of his had dragged him along, claiming that the College experience was not just about studying. Sam didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to disappoint him.

He ended up letting his friend disperse, interacting with the people he knew. Sam knew no one at this party, it consisted of another schools students and a few familiar faces. He nodded at a few but found himself standing in a corner and trying to choose which assignment he was going to finish off when he got to his place.

Which is when he saw you, with one of the biggest smiles on your faces. And Sam couldn’t help but smile along with you. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what on Earth was so funny, he wanted to smile because you were. It seemed like everyone circled you.

Your friend had noticed him staring your way about a minute ago, but didn’t want to be wrong. So she kept moving you around and dragging you to new people. Lo and behold, his eyes followed. Based on her check, he seemed sweet. He didn’t stare at your ass or your chest, just your face. He laughed and smiled when you did.

He seemed to admiring, and she liked it. Sam’s friend, Mason, returned to the room with a girl on his arm. She watched as Sam side hugged him once he returned.

Mutual friend? Check!

“If you drag me anywhere else my arm is going to fall off Jess!” The party seemingly faded away as you made eye contact with him, god was he cute. His gorgeous brown eyes and hair were more than enough to render you tongue-tied. Sam looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at you, why were you in front of him?

Had he been staring too long?

“Mace! There you are.” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, “Oh, this is my friend Y/n. Mason, Y/n.” Mason reached his hand out to you as you smiled at him. Sam found himself holding his breath, your smile is even bigger now.

He wanted you to smile his way, “This here is Sam! Sam, Y/n.” Jess and Mason shared the same idea as the three others watched as you smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Sam, you can just call me Y/n/n.” He snapped out of his daze and shook your hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.

“Sam, I’m Sam. You know that, Mason told you. But uh, you can call me Sammy.” Masons eyebrows furrowed at the notion, he never called him Sammy. The girl on his arm tugged, “Let’s let these two get, acquainted.”

And that you did.

For the rest of the night, you may not have had as much to drink as the others, but you had one of the best nights of your life. You started off in the corner of the room, slowly getting to know eachother. The night led you outside, thumping music and shouts drowned out by the others presence.

Then somehow you ended up heading out for Ice Cream and then at the park. Sitting on swings and laughing at his awful jokes, you’d never felt more care-free. The night was full, and you were thankful.

He shone, if that made sense. Sam was a shot of espresso, and you were an addict. As cheesy as it sounds, you found him to bring color into your life. Your life wasn’t dreary and depressing, but it was boring. You found yourself going from class to your bed, the library, or working.

You had friends, yes, but not too many you could actually rely on if need be. That you trusted. And within one night, you found yourself pushing Sam to the top of that list.

Sam liked you from the get go, how could he not? With your infectious laughter and smile, kind eyes and understanding self. And you listened, with your whole body. You digested everything you heard and were full of empathy. He needed someone like you.

You’d been best friends since then, your first year of college. Best friends and undeniably in love with eachother. Not that the two of you ever noticed. It infuriated Jess and Mason to no end. The two of them saw it, every time you all hung out. The way Sam clung onto everything you said, as if it was Gospel.

The way your eyes practically glistened when he spoke or smiled. You looked up to eachother with so much emotion it hurt the soul. And the second the other was approached? All bets were off.

No man or woman in their mind continued to pursue you once they caught a glimpse of the huge, 6’5 giant behind you. Sometimes they’d keep going, but then he’d come up behind you with some stupid excuse to get you to go back to the table. And that person was left face to face with Sam and his unsettling smile, “You waiting for something?” A quick shake of the head and they were gone.

But it didn’t matter, whether or not you got together or not. You had eachothers backs at the end of the day, no matter what was going on. Even if you were fighting.

The night Sam’s life changed, you were drunk.

The two of you had an argument earlier on.

You ran your fingers through your hair as Sam followed you through the hallway of the apartment building, “Stop walking away from me!” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, “Stop telling me what to do!”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to keep you safe Y/n/n.” His voice was softer now, and it pissed you off. How on Earth were you supposed to be angry with him when he looked like that. And then the eyes? Ugh!

“It seems like you’re always babying me Sam! I can go out with who I want to.” He sighed, taking a step closer he held onto your hands, “I’m not babying you, again, I just want to keep you safe.” You pursed your lips before crossing your arms, “What’s wrong with Ben?”

He’s a vampire.

“Y/n, please.” He was pleading, but you didn’t care.

“No! I never get a clear answer from you. Why don’t you want me to go out with him?” Your voice quivered as you waited for his response. You noticed his jaw clench, you could tell he was keeping his answer under wraps.

Is it because you like me?

“I- I-,” The words wouldn’t form in his mouth and he couldn’t find a decent answer.

“Good one Sam. I’m leaving.”

He watched as you entered the elevator, guilty eyes unwilling to meet his. He sighed as his head hung low, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Sam had been invited to go out that night, he turned it down. Jess had let him know which club the two of you had gone to, and kept him updated on whereabouts. If you needed a ride and he was out, it would take him about thirty minutes to get to you from his party.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

His phone ringing drew him out of the light sleep that he’d fallen under, “Hello?” The sleep in his voice was evident to Jess, “Hey Sam. It’s Y/n time.” He scoffed at the term whilst chucking on a jacket and grabbing his keys, “I’ll be there in 10.”

You hadn’t wanted to see Sam, which was what you’d told Jess, repeatedly. Even if it was most definitely not true. Sam and Jess had successfully stuffed your unconscious self into your car, you’d had Jess pick you up after the argument.

He’d been carrying you to his bed when you’d stirred, “I’m sorry. F-for fighting with you. Ben’s a bitch.” Sam laughed at your crude language as he laid you down on the your side of the bed. You’d claimed it the second he’d invited you over to his new place. “Glad to hear it Y/n/‘.” Sam settled on his knees, removing your heels.

“Sweetheart?” Hair fell in front of your face as you turned to face him, “Mhm?” He moved it behind your ear, “You okay if I change you?” A half-assed thumbs up and a lopsided smile was all you could muster. He knew you wouldn’t mind anyways. You’d told him on multiple occasions that you’d murder him if he let you sleep in your makeup too.

“Could you ever be friends with me if I always had run down make up slobbered over me all the time?” You both sat in front of the TV, chowing down on pizza. “I thought that was your usual look?” The pillow you threw his way had begun a pillow war.

He removed your dress before picking out a shirt of yours and boxers. Since it was your favourite combo. Sam smiled at the notion of you practically swamped by his clothes. Using the makeup wipes you had stashed in the bathroom, he gently cleaned your face before settling in for the night. You quickly turned over to bury into the side of your personal furnace.

Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound, it was darker than before, later in the night. You being settled into his side checked off the possibility of you rattling around in the kitchen for a midnight snack. Quickly checking it out he was met with his brother Dean after a tussle.

“Whoa, easy, tiger.” Sam glared at Dean whilst trying to catch his breath, “Dean?” He laughed at Sam, “You scared the crap outta me!” Dean grinned, “That's 'cause you're out of practice.”

Whether he was offended or annoyed, Sam took the opportunity. He grabbed Dean’s hand and managed to turn him and they ended up on the floor.

Dean groaned, “Or not.” Dean tapped him twice where Sam was holding him. “Get off of me.” A small smile came across the youngest Winchester’s face as he rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Brushing himself off he straightened up, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”

Dean placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, shaking once, and letting go. Sam was understandably confused, “What the hell are you doing here?” The elder of the two relented, “Okay. All right. We gotta talk.”

“Uh, the phone?” Sam crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes, “If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?”

Fair point.

The murmurs and bumps were more than enough to wake you up. You made your way to the source before turning the light on. Cursing whatever Sam chose for you to wear, it was cold.

“Sammy?” Your voice was like honey to the two of them, Dean couldn’t help but look at you appreciatively whilst clocking onto the fact that you called him Sammy. The boxers, the bare legs and the cute tired look on your face.

Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison to the sweet voice, “Y/n/n. Hey. Dean, this is my gir— friend. Uh, best friend. Y/n.” Sam cringed internally at his words.

Your face was painted in confusion as your brain finally processed his words, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

You smiled as Sam nodded, you’d always wanted to meet him. Dean grinned at you and moved closer.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.” You stuttered at the prospect of being Sam’s girlfriend. But you weren’t in the mood to deny it unless he did.

“I—, we aren’t— ,” By a glimpse you could see Sam’s eyes staring straight into Dean’s head, “Alright, why don’t you back up a little Dean?” Sam spoke as Dean laughed, “Just let me put something on.” As you turned to go a voice stops you.

“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.” You smiled at him, “Nice to meet you too Dean.”

“No.” Sam goes over to Y/n and put his arm around her, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her. She’s my best friend.” That’s how you two were, touch was never weird for you two. It’s why you were always mistaken for a couple.

Dean sighs, “Okay.” He turns to look at them both straight on, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” Sam nodded along, “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean ducked his head and looked back up at the couple in front of him.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam expression didn’t change as he nods along. Y/n glanced up at him with a frown, “You never told me your Dad still hunts.” Sam’s lips pressed into a tight smile, “Y/n/n, excuse us. We have to go outside.” You nodded at him, “Can I borrow you, really quickly?”

Dean nodded as Sam smiled, “Of course.” Sitting down on the bed as Sam sat next to you, “If your dad’s missing then are you going to go look for him?” He didn’t know yet, he didn’t even know the whole story yet. “It depends I guess. Where he last was and what Dean tells me.”

“But what about Monday?” Sam couldn’t help but smile, of course you were worried about things that weren’t yours. “I’ll be back in time, I swear Y/n/n.”

He glanced over at you, your hands were in your lap as you smiled, “I know you haven’t told me what your dad hunts. But, I’ve seen your old diary.” His eyes immediately widened, “Y/n—,”

“I believe it, don’t worry. How can I not? I’ve watched my fair share of horror films and Buffy. Plus, my mum always used to tell me to keep an open mind to everything.” Sam had to take a second to grasp everything that had tumbled out from between your lips, “Wait— you knew?”

Your giggles were prominent, until it blew out into a laugh attack, “You should see your face! Of course I knew!” His eyebrows twisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t— what?” You grabbed his hands and clutched onto to them, “Baby, come on. All the random facts you always have, that one time you kept talking about the inaccuracies about Vampires. And then today,”

Sam’s face looked as if it had been drained or color, “If this is about—,”

“You sent an article that morning about Vampires and how they should actually be beheaded. And then a random story about them getting close to people abnormally quick. Which is exactly what happened with Ben. I got mad at you because I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

Sam sighed, “Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. And most people don’t handle the whole, ‘Ghosts are real’ bit that easily.”

“Well I’m not most people Sammy.”

“No, no you’re not. You’re better, you always have been Y/n.” The air in the room had apparently been drained, since you couldn’t breathe. Not with those gorgeous eyes staring down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re not about to kiss me I give this interaction a minus 0 out of 10.” Sam scoffed, “So you’re rating me now?” You jokingly nodded as his hand was placed on your cheek before kissing you.

And God was it worth the wait.

As you pulled away you couldn’t believe you finally had him.

“100/10.”

“What an honour.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you kissed the tip of his nose, “Anything for something as cute as you.”

“Who, little old me?”

[tsuutarr]

Rate your children (ocs)

Who is the favorite? The first born? The problematic fave? The one you honestly don't give enough attention? The one you would hate if they weren't yours? The one you would go ape shit if anything happened to them? The most popular?

This is legit SUCH a hard question TT I love all my characters................

I don't think I have a favorite, but I have a soft spot for Cot since he was one of my first OCs (he wasn't a yandere back then lol)!

Plus Cot is super cute + fun to draw imo :3c

I also adore Aizono for similar reasons! He was a really old OC of mine that came about because I was like... what if the Love God was pining after a mortal?

2. The problematic fave... I mean, they're yanderes so I feel like they're all kind of problematic LOL Ig from my yanderes though, Tynan is probably the most problematic bc he's completely aware of how awful his actions are, he just doesn't care.

He's a man of his own desires, even if he loves Darling haha

3. I feel like I don't give enough attention to a lot of my OCs tbh TT I'm just one measly living organism with way too many OCs lol + I actually have a LOT of OCs I haven't even shared yet!! I love designing characters + writing different prompts so I just end up w a lot of stuff I think.

I do want to revisit my Vampire MILF and DILF though!

(I just think they're hot + I want to be pampered!!!!)

4. As for the one I would hate if they weren't mine... I can't really think about it rn! I feel like all my OCs appeal to me in some way for now... who knows, though? Maybe I'll make an OC I heavily dislike in the future LOL

5. In regards to who I'd go ape shit for if they were hurt... I don't really know, honestly. Maybe any of my human OCs? Most of my non-human/monster OCs can handle themselves just fine, but my human ones are (1) a weak guy who's obsessed with you, (2) a sickly guy who's obsessed with you, and (3) a rich crossdresser who's obsessed with you. None of them are strong tbh so they're much more likely to be hurt LOL

Like, no offense to Sammy, the weak guy who's obsessed with you, but he's kind of pathetic LOL

6. I think the most popular OC I have is either Mulsu or Mason!

I feel like all of my OCs get attention though, so I'm super grateful for it <3

Wow, this post got super long, but it was fun to do!! I'm super indecisive so the answers may change in the future but for now, I think these are accurate haha

(Yeah... when I post more OCs, the answers will def change haha)

Tysm for reading!! <3

[jasmines-library]

hi!

So I was thinking that their little sister is lesbian (if you're comfortable with this kind of stuff though) but she doesn't know. So she's 15 and one day a guy tries to flirt with her in a dinner, but she's just staring in complete fascination at a cute girl behind her. And after the guy goes away Dean calls her out. After she kind of goes on a date with the girl and some homophobic dude comes walking past whilst they're kissing and says some pretty mean stuff. And when her brothers find out they comfort her.

Thank you so much and I wish you a very good day and happy new year!

Unconditional

Note: I literally love this request as a gay girly myself. This was super cute to write!

Warnings: Homophobia but Sam and Dean to the rescue, homophobic slurs and swearing. Please read with warning that this is fairly heavy and may be triggering although I have tried to keep it non-explicit...but it's also a little cheesy too..

Word Count: 1.6k

⛤ SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST ⛤

You knew that the guy beside you was trying to talk to you. His low voice but through the chatter as he leaned on the coffee-stained counter beside you, just a tad too close for your liking. He had sauntered over and was trying to drop compliments, but you didn’t really hear anything he was saying. You were completely fixated on the girl sitting in a booth across the room. She was with her two friends but you couldn’t take your eyes off of her and the way she smiled with not only her rosy lips but also with her eyes. You admired the lilt of her voice as she spoke with a grin and the way her hair, which was tucked neatly behind her ears to show off her face, cascaded over her shoulders. She was beautiful and you were in awe. Then, her gaze shifted away from you and her eyes met yours. Before you could turn away quickly, she blushed and gave you a small smile to hold your gaze.

“So, what do you say?” The boy asked you expectantly, though you were still too entranced to take a notice. 

Dean cleared his throat and nudged you from under the table with his knee. “Y/N?”

You tore your gaze away from the girl and snapped towards your brother who indicated to the boy with his head.

“Sorry- What?”

“I said, ‘Did you maybe want to go out sometime?’”

You felt awful, because you had every intention of answering the guy to send him away, but you found your attention shifting towards the girl across the diner again. 

“Sorry, pal.” Sam told the guy, “I don’t think she’s very interested.”

The boy nodded and left, slightly deflated that his attempts had failed. 

“What the hell was all that about, kid?” Sam furrowed his brow. “What’s got you so distracted?”

Dean, who was sitting opposite you, craned his head to follow your eyeline, where he spotted the girl you had been fascinated by. He turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I think I’ve got her all figured out, Sammy.” He pointed to the girl. “She is so checking that girl out.”

“What?! Am not.”

“Are too. I know that look when I see it.”

You huffed and sunk down in your chair. 

It was then that her and her friends shuffled out of the booth and made their way towards the door. As they passed you and your brothers she smiled at you shyly. You watched as she pushed open the door and the bell chimed signalling that she had left, but you continued to watch her in awe through the window. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare?” Sammy raised an eyebrow. 

“Huh?”

“Go get her number.” Dean urged, ushering you out of the booth. Your cheeks flushed as you chased quickly after her.

The sunlight hit your face as soon as you stepped out of the diner and you made your way slowly over to her. She smiled brightly as she saw you approaching and excused herself away from her friends for a moment.

“Hi” She greeted, “I was wondering if you were going to come and speak to me.”

“Hey.” You smiled “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to finally put a name to your pretty face.” She said before giving you her name. 

“So um…” You swallowed thickly trying to conjure up the courage to ask her for her number. This was something you had never done before… sure, you had never really shown much interest in guys, and you knew that every time you glanced at one of the women on the front of one of your brothers magazines, or spotted a pretty girl walking down the street you couldn’t help but feel that something was different, but you were never able to place it until now. You had thought it was because you never had time to spend hanging out with people outside of hunting, but now that Dean had pointed it out, you knew that he was onto something. You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach that you felt when you looked at the girl before you, and back in the diner you had been so desperate to talk to her that you found your thoughts drifting to what it would be like, however now it was actually happening it was like your mind was betraying you because you couldn’t think of anything to say as your body froze. You took a deep breath and cleared your mind. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?”

She looked at you with a look of pure happiness that made you melt. “I would love to.”

~

The two of you sat inside the diner again a few days later. The two of you had been texting back and forth constantly after exchanging numbers and you couldn’t contain your excitement. You had taken her to the cinema across town before you two made you way to the diner. She looked even more beautiful than the time you had first seen her as she sat across from you, sipping her milkshake which you had purchased for her with Dean’s plagiarised credit card. The two of you spent hours talking to each other and laughing at the other's jokes and you barely noticed the sun setting and the busy diner thinning out, she had even reached out to grab your hand from across the table which she kept there until her it was eventually time to leave. 

You walked her back to her house, slightly disheartened when you finally reached it and the pair of you paused just in front of it. 

Reaching out, she tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. The closeness made your stomach flutter and you blushed. Suddenly her rosy lips were on yours. You leaned into the kiss, kissing her back with the same keen gentleness that she had initiated it with. When she finally pulled away, the kiss leaving you breathless, the two of you let out a small chuckle only to have the moment ruined by a passer by who glared at the two of you in disgust before rolling his eyes.

“Great, just what this town needs. More dykes.” His words cut deep and your heart sank as they crushed everything you had been working to accept was okay about yourself. The longer you looked at him, the more you recognised him. It was the boy from the diner. The one that had tried to ask you out but you ignored. It seemed he also seemed to recognise you too.

“You’re the girl from the diner.” He started shaking his head. “No wonder you weren’t interested you fucking freak.”

“Excuse you?” your date asked, clenching her fists and taking a step forward. 

“I said you’re disgusting.” He spat. “That shouldn’t even be allowed.”

“Listen here-” She took another step forward, but you put out a hand to stop her. The last thing the two of you needed now was for this to become a fight. 

“Don’t. Just leave it.”

She stepped back and with one last huff the boy left with his head held high.  

“I’m sorry-” 

“It’s not your fault.” She said as you looked at your shoes. 

“I know… but I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Well you shouldn’t.” She told you, cupping your face and cutting off any more of your protesting with another kiss to your lips before turning up the steps to her house. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

~

Sam and Dean were still awake when you shuffled in through the door, trying to poorly plaster a smile on your face. Of course they were, they wouldn’t sleep until they knew you were safely in bed at the motel. Sam was typing away on his laptop at the table while Dean had sprawled himself out on the bed with a box of pizza and was watching shitty tv. 

“There she is!” Dean said when he saw you in the doorway. “How was it?”

You shrugged, trying to keep up a happy facade. “It was good.”

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” Sam frowned as he shut his laptop and crossed the room to sit on the bed. 

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Did things not work out between the two of you?” Dean asked.

“No. No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?” your eldest brother pressed.

“Someone said something.” You admitted, eyes finally brimming with tears that you had tried so desperately hard to keep from escaping. The boys words had made you feel so... wrong. “The boy from the diner. Called us names. Said we were ‘freaks’”

“He what?” Dean clenched his fists, but Sam shut him down with one look as you began to cry. 

“Oh kid” Sam said, pulling you close to his chest. “You’re not a freak. Don’t listen to him.”

“But I am, Sammy.” 

“No.” Dean shut you down quickly. “Don’t say that Y/N. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Sam agreed. “Exactly. Who cares what that guy thinks, Y/N?”

“Me?” you sniffled “I don’t want people to treat me differently-”

“We’re not gonna treat you differently. You think we’d really do that, Kid? We’re your brothers.” Sam asked gently. 

“Exactly. You don’t see us treating Charlie any differently, do you?”

“No.” you moved your head away from Sam’s shirt which was now covered in your tears to see Dean moving closer to you. 

“We love you unconditionally, sweetheart.” He said and he wrapped you up in his arms, placing his chin atop your head. “Nothing you could tell us is ever going to change that. Nothing.”

[sammygender]

saw your post about fic rec lists. do you have any spn fic recs? 5 spn fics to read before you die? or sam-centric fics, especially set in the first 5 seasons/pre-canon? (that last is just me telling on my own preferences, lol)

literally 95% of the supernatural fic i read is pre-canon and almost all of it is, if not sam-centric, then sam-heavy. so. not all of the fics r necessarily 100% my interpretation, especially in regards to john takes, but theyre all really excellent

The Very First Stone by road_rhythm. LOVE this one so much. read if you want excellent characterisation of all 3 winchesters, gorgeous writing and a genuinely gripping narrative. set one summer when sam and dean are teenagers, feels the most like an actual novel of any of the fics on this list. also really like the john in this

Run Aground by themegalosaurus. devastatingly good casefic set just before sam leaves for stanford

Ways We Stay Alive by yet_intrepid. read if you dont mind a particularly awful john - this ones emotionally tough, heed tags. training exercise fic!

Emergency On Planet Earth by EudociaCovert. SO obsessed with this concept and little kid sammy. tldr sam is worried john's a serial killer

is it cheating if i rec my own fics? whatever, i will anyway - my fic series is all precanon and often sam-centric, the most sam-centric ones are probably waiting for the day they escape, a perfect body, a perfect soul, and my personal favourite something soon, where sam keeps having dreams about patricide.

im also really fond of

8 early drafts of Sam Winchester's college application essay and the one he sent to Stanford (the sweet little blonde jam) . oneshot, is what it says on the tin. love their relationship in this

Wound and Unwound by fascra - love this fic soo much. if you want to get into the mind of fucked up teenage sam, this is for you. careful on the tws on this one it delves into eating disorders very heavily

No Child Left Behind by Zeke21 - more dean-centric but has really excellent sam too, beautifully written and feels very real and grounded, heed tags though.

Terrible Liars by panfriedeggs. stanford era jess pov, dean comes to stay.

Nickel and Dime by Linden - outsider pov, CPS gets called on the winchesters. love this one. tagged sam/dean but its just gen

The Prettiest Princess - set after its a very spn christmas (the precanon part). both very cute and very upsetting, perfect recipe for precanon

MRSA . Dean's cut gets badly infected.

and, cheating, because this is an AU and therefore not technically pre-canon, but i loooove it: the body and the boneyard by hellsreluctantheir

may add more if i think of them later.. i read a lot of fic. feel free to send asks for anything more specific!!!

[spnexploration]

Pack chapter 18

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Chapter summary: The reader learns a number of things about her new life.

Chapter warnings: smutty conversations

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: The link for chapter 17 wasn't working in the masterlist, which I've just fixed now. So you might need to double check you've read that one first, sorry!

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 17 <- -> Part 19

“She’s so cute when she sleeps,” I heard Madison whisper as I was just waking up.

“Shh, Madi, you're as quiet as an elephant,” Dean whispered back, a lot quieter. There was fondness in his voice and I felt the rumble of his chest through my back.

“Nyaw, I just can't wait, I'm so excited for you,” Madi answered, quieter this time. I still hadn’t opened my eyes, not wanting to be awake yet.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean answered. I started to doze back off, content in Dean's arms while he spooned me.

---

A while later, but I don't know how long, I awoke to Dean stroking my cheek, “Time to wake up, little one.” I groaned, and he chuckled. “Not a morning person, are you?”

“Like you are,” I grumbled.

“Touché.”

I started to shuffle around, stretching my various muscle groups. I suddenly realised that in the process, I had been grinding my butt into Dean's lap, and could now feel him getting harder.

“Sorry,” I squealed.

His answering chuckle was low and deep and felt like it went right through me. I felt my undies start to get wet with slick. Dean’s large hand slid down my side, coming to cup my hip and bum. He rubbed circles through my pyjama shorts, spreading warmth.

I suddenly realised, looking around and behind Dean in panic. “Where's Madi?”

“She got up a while ago. Don't worry, Y/N, I'm not going to start sexy times when there’s another Omega in our bed. Or an Alpha or Beta, for that matter.”

“But you are trying to start sexy times?”

He chuckled again. “Well, maybe not full-on sexy times. But we can cuddle, and we can-” He was cut off by a loud crash from elsewhere in the bunker.

“Shit,” he exclaimed, launching himself out of the bed, grabbing his gun from the bedside table and running for the door. “Stay here,” he ordered me on his way out.

I pulled my knees to my chest. Originally I hadn’t been too concerned, but Dean’s reaction had me worried.

He was back a minute later. “Sorry sweetheart, it was just Madi accidentally knocking over things in the pots and pans cupboard. She’s making breakfast though, so that’s a bonus.” He seemed to look at me more closely, “You ok?”

“Just… most people hear a crash of pots and call out ‘You ok?’ They don’t go running out with a gun in hand.”

“The bunker is very, very secure. But it’s not 100%. And I’d rather be wrong 99 times that it wasn’t a threat, then be lax on the one time it was.” He came closer and rubbed his wrist on the side of my neck, putting the gun down on the bedside table again. “But I’m sorry I scared you, little one.”

“I’m ok, just… It reminded me of you getting shot,” I said quietly, not looking at his face. “That I hadn’t thought that the hunt was a problem and then it really, really was.”

Dean sat next to me on the bed and put his arm around me. I leant my head on his shoulder. “Y/N, I know this has been an awful lot for you to adjust to. And the worst timing for me to get injured, too. I don’t want to lie to you and say we don’t get injured, because we do, but it’s not usually like this.”

“Yesterday you said you’d died.”

“Uh, yeah. Umm, I did a deal once with a demon to save Sammy, and then hellhounds came for me when the time was up. And another time I died a tonne but I don’t remember it, because there was an angel who was trying to mess with Sam so he groundhog day-ed him about me dying. And I guess a couple of other times I technically died but it was so that I could talk a Reaper, and every time I did that, I had someone ready to revive me.”

I stared at him, jaw open. He looked sheepish.

“Umm, sorry, I’m trying not to scare you but I also thought it was important for me to be really honest…”

“I appreciate the honesty, but holy fuck! How are you still here? How did you get out of the hellhounds?”

“I, uhh, I didn’t. I went to hell. Then Cas, an angel who is now our friend, got me out of there because Heaven had this big plan for Sam and me about the apocalypse. But don’t worry, we fixed it.”

“You went. To hell. You just went. To hell.”

He shrugged. “I don’t normally talk about it…”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Am I being really insensitive?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine. You have a right to know what you’re signing up for.”

“This feels like that Lord of the Rings meme, ‘One does not simply walk into hell’.”

He smiled, “Something like that.”

“So are you just particularly accident-prone or is this all hunters?”

“Well, Sammy’s died a bit too, but Madi hasn’t. And most hunters don’t. And most hunters don’t have Heaven and Hell messing with them about an apocalypse, but that’s all over now. No more dying, no more apocalypses.”

“How do you know?”

He looked thoughtful, and then depressed. “I guess I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart, I feel like I keep fucking up these conversations and leaving you scared.” He took my hands in his and looked deep into my eyes, “I will keep you safe, you have my word.”

“And who keeps you safe, Dean Winchester?”

The mock swagger came back, “Dean Winchester’s all anyone needs.” I laughed. “I guess Sam’s pretty good, too,” he conceded with a smile. “Come on, Madi’s probably finished cooking the bacon by now.”

---

“So, umm, I heard that when you've found your mate, your heats get worse...” you said awkwardly, hovering near the door of the library. Madison was inside, sitting at the table. Dean was, thankfully, somewhere else.

Madi quickly closed the book and gave you her full attention. “Didn't your mother ever tell you what to expect? Or an aunt or someone?” she asked gently.

“When I said my family are Betas, I meant literally, my whole family are Betas. It was a bit of a... thing when I presented as an Omega. But then when, you know, Prince Charming wasn’t very forthcoming, I never bothered to do much investigation. I didn't think I'd ever need to know it, you know? And then when I met Dean I thought I'd just wing it, but then Dean's rut happened without my heat and now it feels like the whole Pack is relying on my heat doing what it's meant to, and I realised I don't even know what it's meant to...”

“Ok, wow, hun, you ain't Atlas, you don't need to take the weight of the world.” I smiled weakly at her joke. “You are Dean's mate and a member of the Pack even if you never have another heat in your life. However, I'm also sure you will go into heat on schedule so I am here to answer all of your questions. I'll be an advice column like in a magazine!”

She stood up and came around to where I was. “Ordinarily I would suggest alcohol for this, but it’s 10am and Dean is a boring square who might kill me if I get you drunk before midday. So instead, we’re getting junk food and chick flicks.”

I stared at her, bewildered. She was taking this far further than I had expected. She grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen. She loaded a bag with snacks and then walked out again, calling out “Deaaan, where are you?”

He called back that he was in the laundry, so she led me there. He turned to look at the door as we walked in, halfway through loading the washing machine. “What's up?”

“We're going to have some girl time, don't come into the Dean Cave. You'll ruin my job of corrupting your mate if you do.”

“Ok, have fun,” he chuckled. Then he looked at me and said, “Squirt her with a spray bottle if you need to.”

Madi tugged me away, leading to the Dean Cave. “Ok,” she said when we were away from Dean's hearing. “Yes, your heat gets worse when you've found your mate. It's probably because of all of that weird hormone stuff Sam tried to tell me about after you saw the doctor, but I stopped listening to him. How do you normally cope?”

“Cold face washers, sleeping under only a sheet, drinking ice water.”

“And toys, right?” she said with a wink.

“Umm, not really. It's such a stereotype that you need to orgasm to get through heat.”

She was staring at me incredulously.

“What? It's not like I never do it... Just, only when I want to...”

“Ok, wow. I don't think I even knew any Omegas who would have tried getting through a heat without at least a vibrator and probably a fake knot. It's like permission to just go crazy for a few days and no one asks any questions.”

“I, uh, don't have one of those...” I mumbled.

“A vibrator?”

“No...”

“Y/N,” her voice had changed to be more gentle, “have you ever taken a knot?”

I squirmed and shook my head, not looking at her.

“Haaaave you had sex?”

“Yes, God, it's not like I was 'waiting’ or anything. I just... Alphas are usually pricks, you know? I dated a couple of Betas.”

“Oh, I feel you on the pricks, my ex was such a douche in the end. And there was this creepy guy across the hallway who was obsessed with me, I actually met Sam when he saved me from him. I thought Glen was harmless until then.”

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah, but luckily we found the only two good Alphas, hey? Hot, strong, not usually assholes, and if Dean's anything like his brother, great in bed!”

I felt my face getting hot and fidgeted with the zip of my jacket. Madi laughed.

“Alright, open book, ask me anything you wanna know.”

“Umm, well...

.

.

.

Taglist:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@muhahaha303

@globetrotter28

@deans-spinster-witch

@kazsrm67

@foxyjwls007

@iamsapphine

@saranghaey

@yarafae

@sassy-pelican

@tristanrosspada-ackles

@the-family-business67

@babygirl-one-and-only

@leila22rogers

[mountain-in-springtime]

you send me

pairing: sam x fem!reader | word count: 3.5k | warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex | my masterlist

summary: a gentle afternoon with your lover turns into an unforgettable night beneath the stars.

author’s note: hi guys!!! i hope y’all really like this one! i’ve been working on it for a while, and i’m really happy with how it turned out. this is my longest fic ever, and it’s also my first time writing smut, so i hope this wasn’t too bad! also this was inspired by my love of dirty dancing and of 50s/60s soul music. it’s obviously title after sam cooke’s you send me, which i’ll link below

*******************************************************

You sat across from Sam in the diner, the sound of oldies flowing out of the jukebox and into your ears. He leaned forward in his seat, and you heard the vinyl of the booth creaking underneath the shift of his weight as he held his hand out to you. You took it with a smile, ignoring the lingering stickiness the syrup from his pancakes left. His thumb made small circles on the back of your hand.

“I like this color,” he mumbled, his fingers grazing over the purple polish that coated your nails, “Looks cute on you.”

You gently squeezed his hand back. “Thanks. I just painted them Thursday.” You wiggled your fingers, examining your (admittedly messy) paint job.

He gave a small hum of acknowledgment as you felt his eyes drift up to your face. When your gaze met to his, you could swear the world stopped around you. His eyes were soft, filled with affection and no doubt mirroring your own, while his lips fell in a lazy smile, spreading across his entire face. With one look, he became love personified. You shamelessly stared back, scanning every detail of his features as if it was the first time you’d ever seen him.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, your mouth moving before you brain could even process what you had said. You felt no embarrassment at your lack of filter, however. You never hid how you felt from Sam. It was the most freeing thing about your relationship, to be honest without fear.

His smile grew at your comment, a soft “not as pretty as you” tumbling from his lips in response.

You only grinned softly in return as you hoped to cling to the companionable silence you found yourself in. It was as if you were afraid that the bubble around your perfect moment would burst if you spoke. But not all good things can last forever, or so you thought as Sam pulled his hand back from yours and reached into his pocket. He fished out a small pile of coins, jingling them softly in his hands before rising from his seat.

“I’m gonna go put a few songs on the jukebox, alright?” His hand gave a reassuring squeeze to your forearm as he walked past your booth. You felt his fingertips linger as they brushed against your skin, and you basked in the warmth that his touch left upon you until he returned moments later.

He sat down in his spot across from you, smiling warmly as the vocals of Otis Redding’s “These Arms of Mine” began to pour through the diner. A small sigh left your lips, and your hand reached out for his. “Oh, Sammy, I love this song,” you gushed as your fingers laced with his.

“I know,” he answered sweetly, “Thought it might make you happy.” His hand gripped yours and pulled it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“You make me happy,” you countered. It was such a cheesy reply, but you didn’t care. It was true all the same. God, he really made you a lovestruck fool.

He chuckled softly, rolling his eyes and giving a small wave of his hand. “Aw, I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” he joked, but you could see the subtle red hue that crept across his cheeks.

You giggled at his dramatics, ever grateful for the sweet silliness that he seemed to never be without. As your laughter faded off, you found yourselves returning to another small moment of silence. You slowly entered back into the vacuum of your world together, love flowing wordlessly between the two of you as the sound of Otis Redding floated above you, acting as a perfect manifestation of your adoration for one another.

A gentle hum of contentment left your lips as you mumbled softly. “This song reminds me of Dirty Dancing.”

Sam’s eyes flitted to yours, their warmth brightening at your words. “Funny you say that,” he replied, “I put another song on there for that reason.”

An exited smile emerged on your face, and a small gasp left your lips, “Which song?”

His eyebrows raised as he gave you a playful smirk. “I can’t ruin the surprise, can I?”

“Sammy…,” you whined, your mouth forming a small pout, “I wanna know.” You gazed up at him with pleading eyes, but it was to no avail.

Sam shook his head, and let out a long sigh as he shrugged his shoulders. “Looks like you’re just gonna have to wait and see,” he smirked, his eyes holding a playful glint.

You deflated, a sigh of defeat escaping you. “You’re such a tease,” you mumble, disappointment not quite reaching your voice.

He simply shrugged, giving you an exaggerated smile that was sickeningly sweet, “You know you love me.”

You were about to open your mouth to inform him that while, yes, you did love him, he sure had a habit of pushing his luck, but you stopped short as you heard the beginning of the next song. A soft noise of surprise left your lips as the gentle rhythm of Bruce Channel’s “Hey Baby” filled the air of the small diner. Your hand shot across the table, squeezing Sam’s in pure excitement. Moving to slide out of the booth, you reached out for his other hand, and pulled him to stand with you.

“Dance with me, Sammy,” you pleaded as you lazily slung your arms around his shoulders.

A soft laugh tumbled from his lips as he nodded his head. “Alright, honey, whatever you want,” he cooed, bringing his hands to your waist. They were warm against you as he pulled you close to him, gently swaying you back and forth with the music.

So there you found yourself, moving through the aisles of a nearly empty diner in the arms of the love of your life. You supposed that maybe you should’ve been embarrassed. It was near closing time, and you were sure that that staff was in no mood to watch your less-than-stellar dance moves. But really, you were far too happy to care. As far as you were concerned, the world could fall apart around you, and you’d be none the wiser. The silence between you and Sam, broken only by the soft laughter exchanged between you, was somehow deafening, erasing everything around you. You looked up at him in pure adoration, and silently thanked the powers that be for sending him your way.

As the song came to an end, he placed a soft kiss to your temple, and you hummed softly at the feeling. Your head slowly tilted up to look at him, his eyes meeting yours in a lazy, dreamy gaze.

“You ready to go?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your hands sliding down from their place on his shoulders until they finally reached your sides. Sam’s hands found their way to your wrists and held them gently as he planted another reassuring kiss, this time to your cheek. One of his hands released your wrist, the other moving to lace his fingers in yours. You walked to the counter that way, swinging your hands back and forth between you until Sam let go momentarily to grab his wallet, insisting to pay for the meal despite your protests.

His hand soon found its way back to yours as you walked out the diner. You smiled to yourself as you heard the jingle of the doorbell behind you and felt the warm summer air hit your face. Sam’s features held a dreamy expression that matched yours, and when he looked at you, you couldn’t help but reach up to his jaw, pulling his lips down onto yours in a loving kiss. He happily returned your affection, his fingertips ghosting across your cheek.

“I love you,” you mumbled out as you pulled back, too tired and focused on him to think or say anything else.

Sam giggled softly, his cheeks turning pink as he smiled down at you. “I love you, too,” he answered and moved his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. Your head fell against his chest as you walked the rest of the way to the car.

You climbed into the vehicle, feeling it hum to life as Sam turned the key. Not long after, you heard the sound of soft soul music fill the car and couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment. You thought that this was maybe the closest you’d ever get to heaven on earth, though Sam seemed to have a gift for making you feel that way.

Your hand made its way to the radio and began fumbling with the nob to turn the music louder. Once you adjusted the volume to your liking, you started to gently sway from side to side in your seat. You sang along softly to the song, absentmindedly staring out the window and watching tree after tree whizz by.

Soon things stopped moving so quickly outside the window, and you felt the car come to a stop as Sam pulled into a large field that was completely empty aside from a few trees bordering it in the distance. You gave him a quizzical look as if to ask what you were doing there, but he climbed out the car before you could even speak, leaving you no choice but to do the same.

When you got out, you saw Sam close the trunk with one hand, his other holding a folded-up blanket. With only a little bit of trouble, he laid the blanket out in the soft grass of the field. He walked back to the car and looked up at you.

“Could you roll down the windows?” he asked, “And maybe turn up the radio? I thought we could just listen to some music and look at the stars, if you wanted. It’s really nice out tonight.” He said everything all at once, almost scared that you’d say no.

His worries were soon erased, though, as you smiled widely at him and eagerly nodded your head. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds really nice, Sammy,” you answered, turning around and opening the car door. You leaned into the vehicle as you turned the knob on the radio and rolled down the front windows. Music spilled from the car out into the open air, and you silently commended Sam for having such a good idea.

You walked back to the blanket, looking at the relaxed form of your lover. He was leaning back on his arms, legs splayed out in front of him, a pose you copied as you sat next to him. Your head lazily fell against his shoulder, content to simply enjoy his presence and the night air. You gazed up at the sky and stars above you, marveling in their beauty, though you couldn’t deny that you were sneaking quite a few glances in Sam’s direction, admiring his beauty as well. No words were shared between you, but the moment required no words. It was enough to be next to him and listen to the gentle rhythms that flowed from the car.

After a while of this companionable silence, you heard the song change, Sam Cooke’s “You Send Me” pouring from the speakers. You softly hummed along and let yourself fall into something between a daydream and a trance until you were interrupted by a soft mumble from the man beside you.

“This song reminds me of you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Really?” you asked, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Yeah, I know,” he answered, “That’s one of the reasons it makes me think of you. Plus, it just reminds me of the way I feel about you, y’know?” He smiles down at you, his expression full of real and honest affection.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?” you asked, partially out of curiosity and partially just to hear the sweet words you knew were to come.

“Well,” he began, “it’s hard to explain in words. You just… when I’m with you, I feel really happy, but in a really specific way. Like… like it’s not the kind of happiness where you’re bouncing off the walls and going crazy. I’ve been in love like that, and it’s fine and great until you hit a wall and everything sort of crashes and burns. But with you, it’s like I don’t feel the pressure to always be at a hundred percent. I can just love you and be kind to you and be there for you, and that’s enough. I’m committed to you, and it’s the most freeing thing in my life. I guess I’m just trying to say that the kind of love I have with you is… gentle. It’s the kind of thing that can last a lifetime.”

He looked down at you expectantly, and suddenly all words seemed to fail you. What could you even say? How could anything follow that without paling in comparison? So, you decided to do the only thing you could do to mirror his affection so honestly. You leaned forward, crashing your lips onto his.

Sam’s hesitation lasted for less than a second, his hands coming up to weave into your hair, pulling you closer into him. You moved to grip his forearm, desperate for something to anchor yourself to. His scent filled your nostrils, and it was nothing short of intoxicating. A gentle sigh fell from your lips as you felt him deepen the kiss, taking control of the moment. A matching groan escaped him upon hearing your reaction, and you could feel him smile against you.

Your back soon fell against the blanket beneath you as Sam eased you downwards, shifting his weight until he was mostly on top of you. His hands travelled along your body as yours did the same with him, taking in every dip and curve of him as if it was for both the first and last time. Your fingers danced along the hem of his shirt and ghosted across the warm flesh that laid just beneath it.

Understanding your cue, he grabbed the bottom of his tee, pulling it off in one swift motion and tossing it to the side. You wasted no time in reveling in his newly exposed abdomen. Your hands ran across his lean muscles, committing them to memory as if they were a holy text. Sam wore a proud smile as he noticed your reaction. Ever the good sport, he kept any smug comments to himself, instead electing to lean down and press hot, open-mouthed kisses down throat.

A sharp gasp left you at the sensation of him against your neck. His lips felt like heaven as they nipped and sucked at your sensitive flesh. Your hands gripped him, your fingers undoubtedly leaving small, crescent-shaped marks in his biceps. A soft groan fell from his lips as you clung to him, and you felt a small swell of pride in your chest at his reaction.

Your upper-hand didn’t last long, however. Soon, you felt Sam’s hands begin to snake up your shirt, making their way towards your chest, anxious to knead the soft flesh that existed there. A loud sigh echoed through you as you felt his hungry touch. Your hands reached up to the base of his neck, taking hold in his long locks that fell upon his shoulders.

He pulled back for a small moment, and his eyes locked on yours. A quick, breathless “I love you,” tumbled from his lips, and he was met with another passionate kiss from you in response. You were on fire beneath him, his touch sending electric shocks through your whole body. Pitiful whimpers and whines left your lips with every movement, and they only grew louder as you felt his hand snake between your legs.

“Sam…,” you pleaded, desperate to let him have his way and make you feel the pleasure you so deeply desired.

A deep groan rippled through him at your desire, and he gently cooed, “I know, baby. I know. I got you.” His fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles against you, leaving a string of moans and cries to fall from your lips. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, dutifully taking all that he could give. It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar build of pressure in the pit of your stomach, and you could have practically cried in relief as your climax hit you.

Your fingers dug into the skin of his back, incoherent, needy whines pouring out of you as he worked you through your high. His name fell from your lips in a sacred chant, and you could hear him whispering softly into your ear, his breath hot and comforting against you. “Shhh… it’s alright. I’m here, baby. You did so good for me. Such a good girl,” he mumbled.

His words only furthered your arousal, and your lips began to work against his neck as your hands wandered down to his waist, attempting to make quick work of his pants. He happily obliged, his steady touch aiding your fumbling fingers as you tossed his pants to the side and heard them crumple in the soft grass on the side of you.

Your clothes left soon after, Sam’s hands pulling them from your frame with an odd mix of speed and tenderness. As you laid bare beneath him, you felt yourself shudder. The hot air of the night left your skin feeling sticky and aflame, but the closeness of him against you was cool, almost icy. You traced your hands along his body, praising the fact that he was yours to cherish in this way. He treated you with a similar reverence, his fingertips ghosting along your form as if the smallest touch would have you crumbling beneath him.

You felt his hardened length press against your thigh, and you felt yourself shiver in anticipation. He noticed your reaction and moved his hand between you, positioning himself at your entrance. Your face felt hot as his eyes flicked up to meet yours. You could read the silent plea on his face, but he spoke up anyway.

“This okay? You ready?” he asked, his voice husky and tender and angelic all at once.

You answered with a small nod of your head, moving your hips forward slightly. His head fell forward as a light groan fell from his lips.

“You’re such a tease,” he mumbled, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice tickle against your throat. A small giggle, followed by a hum of contentment and satisfaction, left you as you were clearly enjoying his reaction.

You heard him take a deep sigh before he pushed into you, the slight burn of him stretching you lasting for only a second before you were filled with nothing but perfect bliss. He rolled his hips gently into yours in a slow, irregular pace. His breath was hot and ragged on your neck, mirroring your deep, labored sighs. You took your time with each other, not searching for a means to an end but instead reveling in the closeness you shared.

You disappeared between each other in a storm of sloppy kisses and soft, tender movements. Skin pressed against skin and hands gripped flesh as you threw caution to the wind and allowed him to take you under the night sky, thinking to yourself that you’ve never felt so beautiful, nor had you ever been so in love.

It seemed that all too soon, the pressure in your stomach began to build, your oncoming orgasm getting closer and closer until you could no longer hold it back. You whimpered beneath him and strung together what words your incoherence would allow. “M’close, Sammy. I’m gonna…”

Your love-drunk babbling was cut short as he gently cooed to you, “I know, baby. Me too. It’s alright. You can let go, angel. I’ve got you.”

That was all you needed to hear. Your climax hit you like an unbearable wave, sending blinding pleasure through every inch of you. His name fell from your lips until it lost all meaning, and you held onto him tightly. He came not long after you, your own release sending him over the edge. His hips stuttered against yours, and soft praises poured out of him as his fingers dug into your hips, certain to leave bruises that would ache in the morning. Sam’s body soon rested on top of you, too spent to hold himself up anymore.

You laid together silently for a long time, not letting any foolish words spoil the moment. Finally, though, you breathed out the only sentiment you could think: “I love you.” You looked down at him, head resting on your chest.

A moment later, he stirred, eyes gazing up to meet your own. “I love you, too,” he mumbled.

After that, you continued to stay that way, laying naked beneath the night sky as the stars shone above you and music filled your ears. If there was a heaven, you knew with certainty that you had found it within Sam, and you never planned to let it go. That was the thought that played on your mind as you drifted to sleep, safe in the arms of your angel on earth.

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13

[rottingmanifesto]

ellis from mafia 3 and joy for a character prompt? only if you want to!

Ignore the fact this took forever to get to, but hey, I’m snowed in and happily snuggled in a chair with a lamp. I’ll probably write a bunch of these until I get tired.

—

“What’s got you so smiley?”

“What, I can’t smile now?” Ellis is shoveling spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth, concealing whatever smile he has on his face when Lincoln gives him a bemused look from behind the bar. Technically they aren’t supposed to eat out here, but Sammy’s dead asleep and no one would be none the wiser.

“It’s that girl from New York, ain’t it,” Lincoln’s wiping down a glass, not exactly asking a question but looking for confirmation. Ellis shrugs and darts his eyes away when Lincoln begins grinning. “Awe, come on, she’s cute. Why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Why haven’t you asked Raejeanne out?” He digs out the last soggy flakes and flicks them at his brother.

Lincoln narrowly dodges and laughs. “Jesus Ch— first Giorgi and now you. An’ that,” the flake-wad shines in the bar light, “wasn’t necessary.”

“What’s got you so smiley?” Ellis mocks his tone.

He rolls his eyes and wipes down where the ‘ammunition’ landed. “Fuck you.”

“It ain’t even 8 o’clock and you’re already tellin’ me to fuck myself.”

“Yeah ‘cause I gotta clean up your messes.”

“You want a raise?”

“Of what? You ain’t got no money an’ I don’t need used Playboys.” Ellis scoffs, offended, and earns another laugh.

“Hey I haven’t used one of those in a few weeks—”

“Yeah ‘cause you got Ida on the mind.”

“I should throw this bowl at you.”

Lincoln tosses the rag. “You gonna clean it if you do.”

[cowgurrrl]

idk if you've seen any of them but W magazine has some great celebrity interviews, they're pretty chill and fun. sometimes it'll feature two random celebs together and idk! the idea of rockstar!joel and actress!reader being cute in those types of interviews is ADORABLE to think about. like them in any interviews together is cute but specific ones like these i LIVE for. ( i adore this couple SO MUCH!!!)

https://youtu.be/2Hls8pQuLgM?si=lJ-tfeKAmZn156aU

here's a recent one for context lol

Omg yes i have seen those!!

I think they would work around rockstar!joel and actress!reader schedules SO HARD because they want to interview them together so bad and when it finally works out they’re like YES this is how I imagine it going (because I’m too lazy to write out a whole thing but I love this dynamic)

Interviewer: What was the first thing you ever booked?

Joel: I think it was a gig at a little dive bar back in Austin. I was probably… sixteen? Seventeen, maybe.

Reader: Did you get paid?

Joel: I think they gave us one free beer each and I promised to not tell my mom.

Reader: So, we’ll be getting a call from your mother the second this airs.

Joel: Probably.

Interviewer: What about you? What was your first gig?

Reader: I played Mary in a Nativity scene at school and I was most definitely not paid.

Joel: I didn’t know that!

Reader: Yes, you did! We talked about it during Sammy’s first Christmas.

Joel: Okay, that doesn’t count ‘cause we were sleep deprived.

Reader: Then, how come I remember it?

Joel: ‘Cause you’re a world better than me.

Reader: Mhm.

Interviewer: Who was your cinematic crush?

Joel: Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing. Without a doubt.

Reader: I had a crush on Russell Hammond in Almost Famous.

Joel: Really?!

Reader: Yeah! I don’t know what it was. I just think I liked the whole guitarist thing…

Joel: D’you just realize somethin’ bout yourself?

Reader: Maybe, just a little bit.

Interviewer: What’s your karaoke song?

Reader: Dancing Queen by ABBA because I can be bad but everyone will still be excited.

Joel: I don’t have one.

Reader: Yes, you do!

Joel: What is it?

Reader: Piano Man by Billy Joel. He has two drinks and he thinks he’s The piano man.

Joel: ‘Cause I am.

Reader: It’s that or something country like Johnny Cash or Loretta Lynn.

Joel: Oh, that is true.

Reader: And the kids hate it.

Joel: They pretend to hate it because I’m their dad and they refuse to admit I’m cool.

Interviewer: What movie always makes you cry?

Reader: Steel Magnolias.

Joel: The Beginning of the End.

Reader: Joel, you can’t say my movie!

Joel: Why not? It makes me cry.

Reader: Because… ethics or whatever.

Joel: Is it unethical to say I like my wife’s movies?

Reader: No, it’s just-

Joel: You just don’t like it when I compliment your work in public because it makes you blush.

Reader: That’s not true!

Joel: It is and it’s really cute even when you pretend like you hate it.

Reader: There are just so many other movies.

Joel: Not ones that my wife is in.

Reader: I’ve already decided to keep you. You don’t have to butter me up all the time.

Joel: Little extra love never hurt.

Interviewer: What are you secretly good at?

Reader: Joel’s a really good cook.

Joel: I’m an okay cook.

Reader: Stop. Don’t get modest on me now, cowboy. He made an amazing three course meal and dessert for our anniversary last year. All from scratch, too.

Joel: She is really good at fixing things around the house like the other day, Sophia put a hole in one of our walls and I didn’t even notice you fixed it.

Reader: Somebody’s gotta use all the tools in the garage.

Interviewer: Where was your first kiss?

Joel: Under the bleachers at a football game.

Reader: On stage for a high school production of The Music Man.

Joel: That had to be weird.

Reader: Oh, yeah. Half the entire theatre department was there. It was awful!

(This ended up being SO long but it was so fun and yes these questions ARE directly from the video suck my dick (lovingly))

[zepskies]

Wow, wow, thank you so much, friend!! 😍😍

those damn wendigos!😭 I was trying to guess what it could be but of course, it was one of those tricky bastards :/ I feel for her! I just know she’s gonna get sad every time she sees a blue puffer jacket now :( but i’m glad she got that closure at least <3

Ikr?? 😭 Given the mountain/forest vibes, I thought wendigo was the way to go. And she's def going to get sad at seeing blue puffer jackets. 💙💙 Dean was able to give her the closure she needed to move on -- and who would know about that better than him? 🥲 (hahaaa I love the words "true mate-iest" 😆)

her nesting was so cute, I can imagine how anxious and restless she must’ve felt. i’m so glad he made it back to her! especially at just the right time, I can’t imagine things would’ve gone well with a fracture 😅

I just love that about omegas loll, but it's because she was really anxious and restless and worried about him. Oh she wouldn't have gotten very far lol, poor thing.

“Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.” awwwww😭 you may not soften as fast as butter in a microwave but you will soften up winchester 🫵🏽

Like a mallet over the head! He'll get there eventually. 🤣

this is the sweetest thing ever 😭🥺 it’s nice that he was able to be that safe space for her, in many ways honestly. love that for them 🙂‍↕️🫶🏽

Aw thank you for calling this out! One of my favorite lines to write for this series, honestly. They're healing each other, bit by bit! 💕

that kisssss❤️‍🔥 so good, and i’m glad she called him out! lol. true mates are special, he can’t let his self sabotaging ways prevent him from being happy :’) i’m glad she’s stubborn though, and i’m sure sammy will be glad to hear his brother is no longer lonely but in good, kind hands :]

😘😘 She wanted to respect his wishes, but then she realized he really needed that gentle push and that reminder. She's just as stubborn as he can be! loll Sam would approve! 😆

Thank you so much, lovely! I'm so glad you're enjoying the ride. Just one more chapter to go!! 💓💓💓

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

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[tripthelightfandomtastic]

okay so WILD WEDNESDAY THOUGHT i’m hard of hearing and i’ve had this thought buzzing around in my brain for a little while so here we go.

okay so i was thinking about how fun it would be to teach sam some sign language, i know he’d be genuinely interested in how i communicate in certain environments. he’d want me to show him some easier ones but i just keep thinking about how fun it would be to try to teach him while cockwarming him.

Ooooh lucky for you, I know sign language.

It all starts with the both of you catching your breath together, on top of Sam as he holds you tightly to him, his cock still buried deep inside you. "I think we need a sign to say that 'I need to fuck you asap'." He says, still a bit out of breath. You just giggle into the crook of his neck. "Do you want me to teach you sign?" You ask, turning your head to smile at him curiously. "I mean, I'd love to learn actual words, but this one seems pretty important to know." He explains, making you grin and sit up to look down at him from his place beneath you, one of your favorite places to have him.

"There is a sign for 'fuck', if thats what you're looking for?" You say, feeling him still deep inside of you, feels so warm, so soft and good. Sam groans at the tad bit of overstimulation as you sit up, "Mmm, yeah that works." He smiles, eye lids a bit heavy as he looks over your body, shining in the afterglow of sex. His hands rest on your thighs, cementing your place on his pelvis. "Take both your hands, make two peace signs, bring your inner wrists to eachother and bounce them off your inner wrists, like this." You demonstrate for him, he grins as he reciprocates your movement. "It's pretty crude, the fingers in the peace sign are supposed to be like spread legs." You giggle at the ridiculousness of the sign. "I like that, pretty dirty." He says softly, still doing the sign. You lean forward a bit, adjusting above him, your clit catching in a way that makes you tighten around him. You softly gasp at the sensation, so good post orgasm.

"But don't get that confused with the sign for 'work', that's almost the same sign but with no peace signs and one wrist over the top of the outside of the other wrist." You explain with caution. "Speaking from experience?" Sam teases. "Maybe..." You grin, placing your hands on either side of his head on the pillow, getting closer to his face. "You feel so good like this." You whisper, feeling his cock halfway hard inside you, all your movement and warmth bringing him back to you.

He brings his hand between the two of you, his thumb and pinkie pointing back and forth at you both, the sign for 'same', a sign you taught him a while ago, he uses that one alot. You giggle at his fained innocence, acting as though his dick isn't still buried inside you, along with all his cum from moments ago. "Pretty baby." He says, kissing you on the tip of your nose.

The two of you spend the rest of this lazy morning showing him more signs, mainly dirty ones, given the circumstances. All the while the both of you slowly find the need for eachother growing again. "Whatcha thinking about baby?" You ask him, intentionally clenching around him. He brings his wrists together, "You wanna work?" You smile at his mistake, "Dammit." He whispers, adjusting his wrists and fingers, "Oh, you wanna fuck me baby?" You tease, rolling your hips over him. He runs his hand over his chest, the sign for 'please'. You roll your eyes at his neediness. "Only because you're my best student." You tease before he rolls the both of you over and takes you all over again.

[luveline]

hey I couldn't find if your reqs are open or not so if they're closed feel free to ignore this lmao!

I'm in love with the way you write steve 💙 I was thinking of a scenario where reader gets into a fight bc of some guys messing with/talking shit about Steve and how he would react to that? have a great day ily <33

sorry i keep softifying him in reality he'd probably fight <3 ily tysm for requesting lowkey highkey shy reader too

Dustin bursts into Family Video, brown curls bouncing. 

"It's Y/N," he says. Steve shoots Robin a look and rounds the counter at record speeds. It surprises him when Dustin bursts out of the store and turns straight into the Palace, holding the door open.

You’re towards the back of the arcade. Mike stands at your side with his formidable, protective expression in place. You're pushing into his arm held out in front of you, looking upset and uncomfortable. 

"Shut the fuck up, don't talk about him! Don't fucking talk about him, you don’t know anything!" you're saying. 

Steve feels his eyes go wide, startled at your uncharacteristic display of both volume and aggression. 

The two guys in front of you Steve recognises quickly from your classes. They look about as shocked as Steve does but handle it with less care, laughing loudly in your face. Your frown deepens, angry tears on your face evident as he draws closer. 

"Is there a problem?" Steve asks, coming to stand in front of you. 

His appearance only makes the guys laugh more. "It's the King!" one says. 

"King Steve!" 

Completely unoriginal, overplayed and pathetic, Steve's heard this shit a thousand times. He rolls his eyes and goes to pull you away, hand careful on your arm. You won't let him, standing your ground even as Dumb and Dumber's senses of bravado grow. 

"It's worse than I thought," one begins. 

"Look at his cute little vest." 

"And what do you do, Sammy? We all know you're still living in Mommy's basement. The mould spores are getting to you, clearly," you say scathingly. It's a valiant effort though arguments and comebacks aren't something you have any practice with. 

"I work," Sammy says defensively. 

"Work what? The muscles in your left bicep? Fuck you, thinking you're better than anybody, especially Steve!" 

Steve likes that one and Mike does too, spluttering into laughter at your side. 

Sammy takes a step forward and Steve takes one too, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, distinctly unimpressed. To the guys credit he doesn't do anything but smirk. It's all very high school and Steve's over it, rolling his eyes as turns to you and takes your shoulder into his hand. 

"Stevie," you say, startled. 

He pushes you, never disrespectful but definitely guiding, out of the arcade even as the boys repeat your pet name in high voices. "Stevie, oh Stevie!" 

"Steve," you say again, crossing the threshold and out into the parking lot. 

He doesn't really know what to say yet, a vestibule of too many emotions. He takes your hand and leads you to his car, encouraging you to sit on the hood in front of him, squeezing your clammy hand.

The silence is long but not awful, nothing but the sounds of passing cars and your joined hands, his thumb rubbing your knuckles.

You sniffle with an annoyed frown on your face, staring hard at his abdomen. "They were calling you a loser."

Steve brings his hand to your face and angles you up, looking over your expression for anything he should be alarmed by besides your wet lashes. He wipes the back of his hand over your face, careful but with a firm pressure, your eye and cheek dragging under his touch as he cleans away your tear tracks. It makes him smile. 

"It's not funny," you murmur weakly. 

"I'm not laughing at you… Babe, I am a loser. A huge loser." 

"No, you're not," you say, glaring. You look cute, he thinks, not that he'd ever tell you that right now. 

He does laugh at that, not demeaning, more like startled you'd care so much. "Babe." 

"You're not a loser, Steve. You're my boyfriend." 

"And that makes all the difference," he says lightly, dipping his face to yours, tilting his head to one side. He flicks his gaze from one eye to the other, watching as water wells and then spills. He's softened instantly. "Don't cry, Y/N. Everything's okay. You're okay." 

"I'm not okay. I'm so angry. How can they say that about you?" You wipe at your cheeks meanly. "How can you think that?" 

His chest aches with how much he likes you. Loves you. You're exceedingly wound up right now, though Steve would never call a lady hysterical, squeezing your hand again. He bends at the waist so his face is well below yours, looking up so you can’t avoid his gaze. 

"Alright, I'm not a loser," he says warmly, and feels like it's true. If you think it, it must be. 

Dustin and Mike emerge from the arcade, looking quickly at the intimacy and then away, Dustin with a look of sheer disgust. 

"You need a ride home?" Steve asks them, standing at full height. 

"Nah, you're good," Dustin says, looking like he'd rather die. The two young boys collect their bikes from the rail and say their sheepish goodbyes.

You're gazing sullenly at your knees. 

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asks. 

You come back into yourself, blinking up at his face owlishly. "Shit, you're working. I was coming to see you. Then I heard those idiots and I followed them in…"

"Thank you for sticking up for me," he says. 

You wince. "Of course." 

"What was that, you said? About a left bicep? I need to add that to my repertoire of smackdowns." 

"Shut up," you say, laughing reluctantly. 

He's relieved at the sound of your laughter, chuckling himself as he tucks you into the cage of his arms, chin hooked over your head. You're warm, quieting as you reciprocate the hug and your hands bunch in his shirt. 

He rubs your back like he's brushing you down. "You're funny. You should use some of those zingers on me next time. I didn't know you had it in you." 

"Stop." 

"I'm serious. 'Mould spores'? What's next, 'mouth breathers?" 

"You're a total mouth breather." 

"You should be embarrassed to be with me," he says agreeably, kissing the top of your ear, the first bit of skin that he sees before pulling you in tightly, arms rigid around you. He pats your back. "Thank you," he says again, sincerity burning his throat. 

Being defended isn't new for Steve but it isn't common. And the passion you'd shown, your angry tears, he can't say thanks enough for that kind of love. He can only return it, and he would. 

"Steve," you say, sighing. "Don't say thanks. I'd do a lot worse." 

"Yeah? Like what?" 

You push him away, used to his teasing and his theatrics by now. 

"Homicide?" 

"Steve." 

"I'm just asking." 

[mcyt-peach]

hi peach! i was wondering if i can request a fluff cc!awesamdude x f!reader drabble or headcanon (whatever you prefer / are more comfortable with) with reader having a bad day or being sad and sam taking care of her?

thank you so much :D

hands that heal

·˚ * summary: after an awful day, there's nothing you want more than to have Sam take care of you

·˚ * pairing: cc!awesamdude x fem!reader

·˚ * warnings: negative thoughts, reader uses she/her pronouns, crying, self doubt

·˚ * word count: 634

·˚ * genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

·˚ * note: I can't express how much I loved writing this, Sam just seems like the perfect boyfriend and I hope you like it :)

Bad days were inevitable. There would always be a day where things didn’t go the way they were supposed to and you struggled with your usual tasks. But today wasn’t just a bad day, it was a downright terrible one.

Nothing was going your way and it took everything in you to not break down. All you wanted to do was lie down on your bed and try not to think about just how awful you were feeling.

You try not to make too much noise when you enter the house, slipping off your shoes by the door and tiptoeing around the living room.

Sam’s voice sounds muffled from your place on the couch. He’s probably streaming, having fun with chat and his friends.

Maybe you should tell him. Knock on the door, interrupt, take up space. You weren’t selfish enough to stop him from enjoying his day. To make him take care of you when you should be able to do it yourself.

Your body curls up into itself before you can stop. Turning your face into the pillow, you can only hope to keep the meltdown away.

“Baby.” You bury your face further into the pillow, too embarrassed to face him.

“Baby, look at me.” His voice is steady, gentle, hoping not to scare you away.

You hardly realize you’ve been crying until you turn to face him and find your vision blurred. When the tears do fall, his fingers sweep at the corners of your eyes, stopping them before they cascade down.

His face finally becomes clear and suddenly you want to cry all over again. You can’t find a speck of anger in his stare. Only a warm smile and a little bit of concern.

Your body dips as he sits down next to you and before you know it, he’s dragging you across the couch and onto his lap.

He cradles your face in his wide hands, fingertips skimming your skin. His hold is firm, but when you move to lie against him, he lets you.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” His chest vibrates against your cheek when he speaks.

You shake your head and he hums in understanding.

This time, his hands move up and down your back. His movements are light but still fill you with a sense of contentment.

“Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” Your eyes open, not that you realize they’d ever closed, too caught up in relaxing for the first time today.

You push further into the hoodie he’s wearing, mumbling out an answer.

“You gotta speak up, pretty thing.” You know if you stayed quiet, he’d let you. Sam never pushed you to talk, always one to be respectful of your boundaries.

But that was the thing about Sam. You never wanted to keep things from him anyway.

“I just didn’t wanna bother you, Sammy.” It feels childish to admit. Makes you feel small and too needy.

Once again, his hands are lifting your face to his. You right yourself on his lap, busying yourself with evening out the strings of his hoodie, instead of meeting his gaze.

“Hey.” He doesn’t continue until you look at him, “You’re my girl. Ok? That means I love all of you, not just the happy parts.”

“Sammyyyy, stop being so cute, you’re gonna make me cry again.” You whine, feeling tears well up in response to his little speech.

With a chuckle he smooths the furrow in your brow with his thumb and kisses the pout from your lips. When he pulls back he’s beaming and the stretch of your own smile is hard to ignore.

It’s hard to feel worthy of someone like Sam, but every time you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you why you deserve all the love he has to offer.

[hearts-hunger]

cabin fever — part one

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Series Summary: During your week away at the cabin, you and Sam make a pact — on the last day, if he tells Danny how he feels, you'll tell Josh how you feel. It's going to be a very long week.

Chapter Summary: Sam finds out your secret, and you find out his.

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader, Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Genre: Fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining

Word Count: 2.7k | Chapter Warnings: smoking

A/N: Me, starting a multipart fic while also doing grad school midterms? More likely than any of us thought, apparently. This fic focuses on you and Josh, mostly, but Sam and Danny's relationship is a major plot point and, of course, so are the ridiculously fluffy and cute adventures you and the boys get into during your cabin vacation. Yes, I went with the most predictable title of all time, and I have no idea when the next chapter will be up. I hope you like it! ♡

“So you’re the one who’s been stealing all my cigarettes.”

You turned to see Jake stepping out onto the porch with you, the pack of cigarettes you’d definitely just nicked from in his hand. You’d been about to take a drag but lowered it, a little shy.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said.

He waved you off with a smile. “‘S ok. I don’t mind.”

He lit one of his own and stood at the railing with you, blowing a thin stream of smoke out into the cool night air.

“You alright?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act, Jake.”

He grinned. “I warned you.”

The worst part of it was that he had, and you’d foolishly believed that you would be able to go through this week acting like everything was normal. But it wasn’t normal — you were spending a week in the mountains with your best friends, and you were completely head over heels for one of them.

You took another drag from your cigarette. “How am I supposed to just... pretend that I don’t want to kiss him every time I see him?”

Jake grimaced. “Graphic.”

You couldn’t help a wry smile. Kissing was one of the least graphic thoughts you’d had.

Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. You could always just... tell him.”

“Oh, sure,” you scoffed. “Let me just waltz right up to Josh Kiszka and tell him I’m in love with him.”

“Tell him what?”

You and Jake both turned at the sound of Sam’s voice, a scorching blush rising to your cheeks. He was halfway out the door, and the stunned expression on his face would have been funny if you hadn’t been so mortified.

“Sam — ” you started.

“Oh no,” he said, cutting off your explanation before you’d even thought of a good one. He leaned his back against the railing on your other side, effectively bracketing you in. “Spill.”

You huffed. “There’s nothing to spill.”

“There’s plenty to spill,” Jake chimed in, giving his brother a knowing look. Sam grinned.

“Aw, look, Jakey,” Sam said, lightly touching a hand to your cheek. “She’s blushing.”

You batted his hand away. “I’m not blushing. Don’t you two have anything better to be doing right now? Writing songs, maybe?”

“We’re all done for the night,” Jake said. “So you might as well tell Sammy all about it.”

“Wait, how do you know when I don’t?” Sam asked. He looked at you. “I gotta say, I don’t feel very loved right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I love you, ok? Just because I didn’t want to tell you about my stupid, idiotic crush on your brother doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“But you told Jake,” he pressed.

Jake laughed. “Yeah, because of that time I caught her looking at Josh like he was her last meal a few months ago.”

“Shut up,” you said, giving his shoulder a shove.

“A few months ago?” Sam asked. “God, were you ever gonna tell me? At this rate, you might as well have just sent me the wedding invitation to let me know.”

Even the thought of being at the point where you would be sending out wedding invitations for you and Josh made your head spin. You really had it bad.

“Well, I’m never telling anyone else,” you said cooly. “So, there.”

Sam smirked. “If you think I’m not telling Danny, you’re crazy.”

You and Jake shared a look. He knew as well as you did that Danny already knew, and that the two of you shared the undesirable fate of being hopelessly in love with a Kiszka brother.

“Oh, come on,” Sam pouted. “Danny already knows, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” you said, “but not because I love him more than you. Ok?”

“Fine,” Sam said, mollified. He held his hand out to Jake for a cigarette but kept his attention on you. “I still want all the details.”

You shrugged. “There’s not any details.” Josh was your best friend, and you’d been in love with him since the day you met him — it was as simple as that.

“I’ve just... had a crush on Josh forever,” you said. “It’s stupid.”

Jake gave you a sympathetic smile. “It’s not stupid. But I don’t think you can call it a crush any more, honey.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, as if just realizing something. 

“Wait — is that why you made me switch seats with you on the way here?”

You blushed. Like the gentlemen they were, the boys had offered you the passenger seat for the road trip, but you’d insisted that Sam have it. You’d been happily squished between Josh and Danny in the backseat for the whole ride.

“Oh, god, and you leaned your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep,” Sam remembered, amused distaste in his tone. He shook his head. “I should have known.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know,” you admitted. You’d gotten a little out of hand, recently; you might as well have twirled your hair around your finger and batted your eyelashes every time you spoke to Josh for all the good your attempted subtlety was doing.

“I said she should just tell him,” Jake offered.

“No,” you said again, horrified at the thought.

“Aw, come on,” Sam said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You put your cigarette out against the railing. “Oh, I don’t know — he could say that he didn’t feel the same way?”

“No,” Jake broke in. “The worst that could happen is if he said he loved you like a sibling or something. Then you’d have to live with the knowledge that the guy you’re in love with thinks of you the same way he thinks of Sammy.”

You and Sam both winced.

“Yeah, that is the worst that could happen,” Sam agreed. He cocked his head at you. “But I don’t think he’d say that.”

You bit your lip. “Why not?”

Both boys grinned at you.

“Ugh, you two are so aggravating,” you said, though you didn’t really mean it. You were glad that Sam knew too, and that you didn’t have to keep your cards so close to your chest any more.

“I’m just saying,” Sam said, one hand up in a gesture of surrender. “I think Jake’s right. You should just tell him. See where it goes.”

You had a brief flash of sympathy for Danny, and wondered how Sam would feel if Danny took that advice too.

Jake’s phone chimed, and you and Sam both looked over his shoulder to see who was texting him at this hour.

“We’re supposed to be off the grid,” Sam said, reading the name of Jake’s girlfriend from the notification. 

Jake smirked. “Yeah, well, some of us fessed up to our crushes and now have beautiful girlfriends to text.”

He put out his cigarette and pocketed his phone. “Do me a favor and keep everyone out of the bedroom for a while, ok?”

Between you and Sam, you managed an impressive amount of fake gagging.

“Alright, alright,” Jake laughed. “But... seriously.”

He gave Sam’s shoulder a light punch by way of a goodbye. “Sam, keep her out of trouble.”

Sam gave him a salute. “Aye aye, captain.”

Jake kissed your cheek. “And you — take it easy, ok?”

You hummed, not sure if you could follow his directions. “I’ll try my best.”

Jake headed inside, already calling his girlfriend before he got in the door, and you leaned back against the railing as Sam finished off his cigarette.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you’d be happy about it,” you said.

He raised a brow. “Why wouldn’t I be happy about it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you’d be worried about it messing up our friendship, or something.”

“Kiddo,” he said, like all the boys had since you first started hanging out with them. “You’re our best friend. I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would mess that up.”

“Not even if I admitted that I was in love with Josh and he... didn’t feel the same way?” The words tasted bitter in your mouth.

Sam looked like he was actually considering that, and you appreciated that he cared enough to give it some thought.

“You want to know a secret?” he asked.

You smiled. “Sure.”

He stuck his cigarette in his mouth and brushed his hair back, like he did when he smoked on stage. He’d told you a while ago that he only started smoking during shows because he was nervous, but now he liked the air of mystery and broodiness it gave him — at least according to some fans on Instagram.

He met your eyes. “I have a bombshell crush that could wreck the whole thing too.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was either Danny or you, and you’d be screwed if it was you.

“It’s not you,” he said quickly, a nervous smile flitting across his face. “I wouldn’t tell you to fess up to Josh and then tell you I liked you right after — that’d be messed up.”

You smiled, but you still felt that jittery kind of excitement. “It’s Danny, isn’t it?”

In the hazy light of the moon, you saw his cheeks pink.

“Yeah, it’s Danny,” he said, uncharacteristically bashful. Oh, he had it bad too — Sam never acted like this.

You felt a rush of excitement on Danny’s behalf. Danny had always been a good buddy to you, but you’d grown especially close in recent months. You’d lost count of the times you’d gone over to his apartment at odd hours to drown your sorrows together with his signature margaritas, or snuck out of parties when both of you felt the pressure of your respective yearnings grow too hard to handle. Danny had been in love with Sam at least as long as you’d been in love with Josh, if not longer, and you were thrilled to bits that Sam felt the same way about Danny.

But, it wasn’t your secret to tell.

You nudged your shoulder against Sam’s. “You two would be great together.”

He smiled. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” you said sincerely. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. “Maybe you should take your own advice and tell him.”

He grimaced. “Yeah... I don’t know. You get it.”

You did, but you also knew that Sam’s love confession wasn’t going to end in rejection. If you had that same assurance, you’d tell Josh in a heartbeat.

“I still think you should tell him,” you said. “I’m pretty sure...”

How much could you divulge without giving away Danny’s secret?

“You’re pretty sure about what?” Sam asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m pretty sure it’ll go the way you want it to.”

Sam’s brows shot up. “Why? Has he said anything to you?”

“No,” you lied, quickly trying to patch things up. God, you wanted to tell him so bad. “I mean... I just think that... you and Danny together makes sense. Anyone can see that.”

Sam looked pleased but not entirely convinced. “I could say the same to you.”

“Me and Josh?” you said, trying to tamp down the butterflies you felt. You shook your head. “We’re not... that’s not...”

Nothing about you and Josh together made sense. He was Josh Kiszka, for god’s sake — rising star, charming as the devil, notorious ladies’ man. This time next year he’d be playing freakin’ Madison Square Garden, and you’d still be the small town girl who got to tag along when he was getting famous.

You crossed your arms over your chest. That wasn’t fair, you knew — neither Josh nor any of the boys would treat you any differently, no matter how famous they got. They’d loved you when you were in middle school, wearing braces and failing chemistry; they’d always love you, no matter what.

But that still didn’t change how insecure you felt when you pictured you and Josh together. How could you ever compete with the thousands of beautiful, exciting girls he met? How could he ever see you as more than a friend?

“Hey,” Sam said. It was his turn to bump his shoulder against yours, seeming to know where your thoughts were tending.

“Josh would be lucky to have you,” he said, with such ease and sincerity that you couldn’t help but smile.

“You think so?”

He smiled. “Yeah, kiddo, I think so.”

He put his cigarette out. “And I think if you tell him how you feel... I’ll tell Danny how I feel.”

“Really?” The thought that by the end of this trip, you’d know for sure, and your secret would be out — you didn’t know how to feel. Excited? Nervous? Queasy?

Sam shrugged, but he couldn’t hide his nervous smile. “Sure. What better time to spill our secrets than when we’re all staying in one house with no escape?”

You winced. “Yeah, when you put it that way...”

He slung his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

“Ah, it’ll be fine,” he said. “Just a couple of romantics, finally admitting our deepest darkest secrets.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I love you, Sammy.”

He kissed your forehead. “I love you too.”

He stole the hair tie from your wrist and used it to put his hair up. “And if it all goes to hell, Jake can referee.”

“You can write songs by carrier pigeon, huh?” you teased.

He smirked. “Yeah, and you can hide out in the bedroom and wait for the daily reports on how things are going.”

He was kidding, but you would hide out in the bedroom if things went south. You could barely stand to be around Josh when he didn’t know how you felt; you couldn’t imagine how hard it would be if he knew and didn’t feel the same way.

If he did feel the same way, though...

“Alright, fine,” you said, before you could talk yourself out of it. “When are we telling them?”

Sam thought for a moment. “Not before breakfast, because Danny’s making french toast, and I want him on my good side. And not before the hike tomorrow, either, because I’d hate for you to get left out for the wolves to eat.”

You laughed. “You think Josh would rather leave me out for the wolves than be around me, if it doesn’t go well?”

“I’m just trying to cover all our bases here,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know... I don’t want to screw up this week if it goes bad. I can handle sitting around the bonfire with Danny with my secret crush, but I don’t know if I could handle it if he rejected me.”

You felt the same way.

“Well,” you said. “Let’s do it on the last day, then.” That would give you five days to get your heads on right and think of what you were going to say, and it would give you time together that wasn’t marked by anything unhappy. 

“Five days,” Sam said. He met your eyes. “Are we really going to change... literally everything in five days?”

You smiled. “Yep.”

“Okay,” he agreed, smiling back at you. “I guess we should get Jake in on the plan, huh?”

“Yeah, but not right now,” you said. “He’s... busy.”

“Bleh,” Sam said. “I forgot.”

He gave you a sly grin. “Okay, then — I guess we’ll go find out what Danny and Josh are doing.”

“Fine, but we have to be normal,” you said. “No... giggling. Or whatever.”

Sam laughed. “Cross my heart. No giggling.”

He held the front door open for you, and you smiled to yourself as you both went in search of Danny and Josh. You were excited for Sam and Danny — they were going to be great together, the classic best friends turned lovers, and you were so happy for them.

But you and Josh? You didn’t have any such certainty about the two of you. You knew you couldn’t allow yourself to think of how wonderful it would really be if he loved you too — you’d go crazy. You’d do something stupid, like kiss him or ask him to marry you.

You felt your heart jump when you found the boys and Josh gave you a beaming smile.

Oh, this was going to be a very long five days.

Read part two!

tagging @punkgeekcryptid and @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​, as always ♡

send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in this fic, or in my other gvf fics!

[idy-ll-ique]

No Time Like The Present

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Genre: FLUFF GALORE

Warnings: none... maybe like one (1) mention of smut at the end

Requested: nope

Summary: On a mission, Sam, Bucky and Steve somehow get turned into one year old babies. Mrs Y/N Rogers, wife of the one and only Steve Rogers has to take care of them. After the whole ordeal is over, Steve wants his own baby.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! I know, I know, the babyvengers trope is kinda overused at this point but I just couldn't help but write my own version of it!!!!! they're so cute after all!!! (also, writing overprotective/jealous baby Steve was so fun). enjoy!

---

"They what?!" Y/N shouted into the phone. "Yes. I'm not lying, Y/N. And you're the only one here who can help us. Please, just come over to the Compound for a week. I know you don't like to get in the middle of all the Avenging stuff but please," Maria Hill begged. Y/N rubbed her temple in annoyance.

What choice did she have?

"Okay okay, I'll pack and be there in an hour. Think you can keep them occupied?" Y/N chuckled in defeat. "Sure I can, they're surprisingly quiet for their age," Maria laughed along, "See you in an hour, Mrs Rogers." Y/N ended the call and made her way to hers and Steve's shared bedroom to pack a bag. Unbelievable.

Sam, Bucky and her husband Steve had gone on a mission. They were supposed to come back today, and they did, but… not in the way everyone was hoping. They returned… as babies. Small, one year old babies who were, according to Maria, extremely adorable. But babies. How had that even happened?

As promised, an hour later, Y/N reached the compound. Her being a civilian, Steve was overprotective of her, only allowing her to come to the Compound for emergencies. They had a house in the city; Steve no longer lived at the Compound. "Maria!" Y/N called out and the agent turned, relief flooding her face.

"Thank God, come here!" One of the other agents took her bag and Y/N followed Hill towards the briefing room. Once inside, Y/N froze in shock upon seeing the babies playing with toys on the floor. "They are actually babies," she whispered and Maria sighed next to her. "I know. Everyone is super busy, you're the only one who can handle them."

"How long are they going to be like this?"

"One week. Something on the mission, a sorceress, yadda yadda yadda, babies," the agent explained and Y/N nodded, turning to look at the babies once more. She had to admit, they were cute. Bright blond hair, big blue eyes, pale skin— that was her… husband, Steve. He wore a blue onesie. Next to him, in a red onesie, was Bucky.

Fluffy brown hair too long for a baby framed his face, his steel blue eyes focused on the toy in front of him as his lips formed the most adorable pout Y/N had seen. Finally, in a sage green onesie next to Bucky was Sam. His honey brown eyes were filled with amusement as he held up a toy bird, moving it around. All of them were simply cute.

"Hey guys," Y/N cooed, sitting next to them. As soon as she said that their eyes snapped towards her. Big, kind-of-toothless grins spread over all their faces. "Y/N!" Steve shouted gleefully, rapidly crawling towards his wife and jumping into her arms. He buried his face in her chest as he giggled loudly, slobbering.

"Hey there, baby boy. I missed you," Y/N laughed, rubbing his back as Sam and Bucky, too, crawled over to her. "Y/N," Sam whined, making grabby hands. She moved to keep Steve down but he whined louder than Sam, tightly clutching her t-shirt. "Stevie, I need to say hello," she insisted but Steve shook his head.

"My wife!" he pouted and Y/N didn't know whether to feel disturbed or awed. I mean, sure, Steve was her husband… but he was currently a baby. That's weird. "That's big Steve, mister. Now let me say hello to Sammy and Buck." Grumbling, Steve let go, sitting on the floor grumpily as Sam and Bucky both climbed into Y/N's arms with grins.

When Y/N pressed a soft kiss to baby Bucky's head, Steve's lower lip wobbled as tears filled his eyes. And when she kissed baby Sam on the nose? Steve wailed loudly and crawled back to Y/N, attempting to shove Bucky and Sam off her lap. "Aw, Stevie, come here!" Y/N giggled at Steve's behavior.

She sat cross-legged on the floor with Sam on one knee, Bucky on one and Steve between the two facing her. All three cuddled into her as Steve quieted, resorting to sniffles. "I love you so much, bub," Y/N whispered, pressing two kisses to Steve's cheeks. "Wuv you too, Y/N," Steve mumbled sleepily.

All of them were tired from their mission, it was almost bedtime anyway. Maria told her that they had all been fed already; that was a relief. "How about we all go to bed now, hm? Come on, Sammy, you first." Bucky and Steve crawled off of Y/N's lap and went back to their toys, albeit with reluctance.

Y/N then stood up with Sam in her arms and with a nod to Maria, left the room. Y/N knew where his room at the Compound was and took him there, getting him ready for bed within five minutes. "FRIDAY?" she questioned once Sam was tucked into bed. He was behaving well, given how he still had some of his adult brain with him.

"Yes, Mrs Rogers?" the AI replied. "Can you, maybe… turn the bed into some sort of a crib?" Y/N chewed her lip. "That is possible, Mrs Rogers." And she watched as safety rails showed up at three ends of the bed, spare the headrest which was already fluffy. Y/N gathered some of the pillows and placed them around Sam, caging him in.

"Goodnight, honey bun," she cooed, somehow reaching over and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. "Night, Y/N," Sam murmured, already half-asleep. Then she went back to the briefing room to collect Bucky, who was asleep. His thumb was in his mouth as he mindlessly sucked on it, cradled in Maria's arms.

"Here," she whispered and handed the sleeping baby over. Y/N smiled and went to Bucky's room, managing to get him ready for bed without waking him up. Then she placed him in the middle of his bed, asking FRIDAY to do the same to Bucky's bed. Soon, he was tucked in nice and sweet. "Night." She kissed his forehead as well.

Maybe it won't be so bad, these kids were angels. Apart from the still overprotective Steve, of course. He was hyper. "Y/N!" he shouted the moment she came back and picked him in her arms. "Stevie, shh, bubba. It's very late, you need to be quiet," she chided gently and Steve's eyes went wide as he covered his mouth.

"Sowwy, Y/N," he muttered and she melted, pressing several kisses to his cheeks as they reached his room; the one they shared for a year before moving out. Steve got ready as well and she placed him on the bed, this time changing her own clothes and getting into bed with him. FRIDAY set up the safety rails.

Y/N placed several pillows on Steve's side of the bed as he yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Tired," he whimpered and Y/N cooed, bringing him closer to her. "I'm here with you, baby, go to sleep," she smiled. "My wife!" Steve exclaimed proudly and giggled, snuggling into her as he felt himself getting taken over by sleep.

"Big Steve's wife," Y/N scoffed to herself.

---

A knock on the door to her room woke Y/N up. Steve was still asleep, also sucking on his thumb. Confused, Y/N went and opened the door, only to see no one there. "Huh?" She was about to close the door when there was a soft whine. "Y/N…" Her head snapped downwards and she saw Bucky looking up at her, pouting.

"Aw— honey bun, how did you get out of your bed?" she chuckled as she picked baby Bucky up. He instantly snuggled into her arms. "Fwiday," he mumbled and Y/N fondly shook her head. "My intelligent baby," she teased and a smile bloomed on his face. "Your baby," he agreed and buried his face in her neck.

There was a loud cry which startled both of them.

"MY WIFE!" Steve yelled, sitting up in bed. Tears were wantonly running down his cheeks as he sniffled angrily, glaring at Bucky. Bucky cowered under his stare, also tearing up. Y/N's eyes widened. "Shh, bub, it's okay, it's okay…" she consoled Bucky first and he went quiet, clinging to Y/N like his life depended on it.

Y/N then sat next to Steve with a stern expression on her face. "That was not nice, Stevie, apologize right now," she chided and Steve cried harder after being reprimanded. "My wife, mine! Stealer!" Steve pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky, who didn't back down this time. He knew he had Y/N's support.

"Stevie."

Steve huffed and looked at Y/N with the best possible puppy look he could muster. Y/N melted. "Come here." Steve crawled onto her lap and hugged her tightly, still throwing Bucky unsure looks. "You love me, Steve?" He nodded eagerly. "Then say sorry to Bucky. Now," Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Sowwy Bucky."

"Issotay."

"Friends?" Y/N asked, looking back and forth between both babies. "Fwiends," they repeated and finally smiled at each other. Y/N picked Steve up and wiped the tears and snot off his face, pressing kisses all over his face. "Good boy," she praised and Steve giggled loudly and gleefully. "What are you doing up so early, Bucky?" she then asked the dark-haired baby.

"Miss you," he mumbled bashfully and Y/N cooed, also pressing kisses to his face. "You are just adorable. Both of you." She placed them both on the bed and asked FRIDAY to set up the safety rails again. "Now, I'm going to get Sam. You two stay and behave, okay?" Both babies nodded. "Good boys. Be back soon."

She left the room and Steve instantly turned to Bucky, dropping his friendly facade. "My wife," he said protectively, "Not yours." Bucky rolled his eyes. "You a baby, not your wife. Big Stevie's wife," he snarked and Steve pouted harder. "Mine!" he insisted. "She my fwiend," Bucky retorted, crossing his chubby baby arms.

Steve glared at him. It was an adorable sight, really. "Only fwiend. Mine," he hissed and grumpily turned away from him. Bucky did too, pouting. That's how Y/N found them when she walked in with Sam; Bucky facing the foot of the bed and Steve facing the headrest as both of them glared at nothing. Oh boy.

"Are you guys still mad?"

Sam blinked as both of them turned to her. "My fwiend," Bucky insisted. "My wife," Steve also insisted. Y/N sighed. "You're both correct. Stevie, it's okay, I'm only Bucky's friend. I'm your wife, okay?" Just saying that made her gag. Pedo vibes… "I love you. I love Bucky too, but only as a friend."

Steve calmed down a bit after that. "Otay," he mumbled. Sam was then placed next to the two. He only stared at them, mostly with confusion but also with mild disdain at their "childish" behavior. "I'm gonna get your things now, okay? And you're all getting cleaned up. After that, breakfast."

All three of them nodded. Y/N left the room again, calling Maria. Soon, she returned to the room with two handfuls of baby stuff; diapers, clothes, powders, toys, whatnot. She changed their clothes fairly easily (surprisingly not throwing up at the sight of three soiled diapers) and then put them in new clothes.

Steve wore a tiny t-shirt and shorts, Bucky went with a sweater and full pants, while Sam went with overalls. "My handsome boys!" Y/N squealed excitedly and whipped out her phone, taking a few pictures. "Aren't you simply… ugh cutie pies," she groaned and picked Steve up first. He seemed elated at that.

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, Y/N!" The three of them shouted excitedly and Y/N put Steve in the baby pram sitting outside the room. It had three seats, meant for triplets. Bucky and Sam were also placed in the pram and Y/N took them to the communal area. There, she met Rhodey. "Hi there, Mrs Rogers," he greeted with a kind smile.

Y/N gave him a hug, much to the dismay of Steve. Baby him was overprotective to a new degree. "Issotay, they jus' fwiends," Bucky told him quietly when he noticed how Steve's eyes watered again. Steve hurriedly wiped his tears off. "Heard what happened on the mission. They are cute," Rhodey chuckled.

He waved at the kids. They waved back politely. "A handful, though. Steve has become 1000 times more protective. He got mad at Bucky because I was talking to him," Y/N rolled her eyes, "Keeps insisting I'm his wife. I don't know how to feel about that, to be honest." Y/N pulled a face and both of them laughed.

"Well, Mrs Rogers, I guess I'll leave you to it now. They look like they're hungry. See you!" Rhodey left and Y/N turned to the babies. "Hungry, boys?" They shouted again and Y/N placed all three of them on the new baby chairs at the dining table. The whole Compound was now baby proofed. What do one year olds eat?

She found out that the fridge was filled with baby food and sighed with relief. Placing three bowls in front of them, she watched them eat. This week was going to be an amazing learning experience. She and Steve had been married for around 3 years now, maybe after this week… they could try for one of their own.

If she made it through this week without any problems, she knew she was ready to be a mom. Steve would be a fantastic dad as well. "More." Startled, Y/N turned to see Bucky staring at her with a huge smile, lips and cheeks covered in mango purée as he showed her his empty bowl.

She blinked.

"Bucky, darling, eat slowly or you'll choke," she sighed as she filled his bowl, cleaning his face with the bib he wore. "Otay, Y/N," he mumbled distractedly before eating, much slower this time. She took out her phone but suddenly noticed Steve staring at her. She raised her brows at him and he frowned.

He held his hand out and Y/N took it, chuckling a bit as he tugged her closer. She moved her chair closer to his and kept holding his hand as he ate. Sam was the neatest and cleanest of them all, not too fast, not too slow and not at all messy. Steve was eating as slow as was humanly possible, to keep holding Y/N's hand.

When they finished eating, Y/N kept all the bowls in the sink and cleaned the babies, taking them to the briefing room which was now turned into some sort of a daycare room. Filled with toys, no sharp things, all the corners baby-proofed. Y/N sat on the floor near the door as the three babies crawled to the toys.

The week went by in a breeze. Taking care of Steve, Bucky and Sam was easy, especially Sam. He was the quietest, keeping to himself and his toys as Bucky and Steve fought on a daily basis. 100% of the time over Y/N Rogers. Any time Y/N gave Bucky (or Sam) even a second of attention Steve got jealous.

He threw tantrums, threw things around and cried so loudly that the entire city could probably hear him. One time, baby Steve even dumped his food on Bucky's head because Y/N was wiping Bucky's face while eating. Y/N had shouted at him then and he sobbed for an hour straight. Y/N didn't feel bad at all, he deserved it.

"Ugh, this week has been so tiring," Y/N groaned to herself as she lay on Steve's bed in her pajamas, baby Steve asleep next to her. She rubbed her eyes and took her phone in her hands, swiping through all the pictures and smiling to herself. There were over a 100 new pictures on her phone, all of Bucky, Sam and Steve.

A few minutes later, Y/N fell asleep as well.

---

Who's hugging me? My husband is supposed to be a baby.

Y/N woke up to the feeling of strong arms around her, pulling her into a firm chest as someone stared at her. She blinked her eyes open and turned her head, smiling widely when she saw her husband's own smiling face. He was big again! "Stevie!" she squealed and hugged him tightly. He laughed.

"My wife," he whispered teasingly and Y/N groaned, slapping his chest. "You were such a nightmare baby, still cute though," she laughed as Steve leaned over and gave her a sweet kiss. "Big Steve manages to keep his protectiveness and obsession under wraps, baby Steve was unfiltered," Steve grinned and Y/N shook her head.

"So I saw your real colours this week?"

"Pretty much."

"You're impossible, good thing I still love you. My Captain," she whispered and leaned in for another kiss. As they sat there making out, there was a knock on the door. Y/N went to open it, grinning when she saw Bucky standing there with a smirk on his face, leaning against the doorframe.

"Your intelligent baby is here," he joked and Y/N laughed, pulling him into her embrace. "Yup, my baby," she crooned and Steve jokingly shouted out, "My wife!" Bucky and Y/N pulled away from each other, laughing loudly. "I'm gonna go get Sam, behave," she winked and left the room, leaving Bucky and Steve alone.

"You managed to get the best wife ever, Steve, I'm so happy for you," Bucky chuckled, sitting on the bed. "I know, she is awesome. Taking care of three one-year-old babies? I love her even more now," Steve smiled, running a hand through his hair. "You two should have your own kid, you know? It's been 3 years since your marriage."

Steve considered Bucky. "She will make an awesome mother. I'll talk to her." Their little chat ended just as Y/N walked into the room with Sam. "It was so fun taking care of you guys, you were extremely cute babies!" Y/N squealed, laughing as Sam gave her a one-armed hug. They talked for a while longer (Y/N showed them all the photos much to their horror) until Sam and Bucky left the room.

Steve, sitting in the middle of the bed against the headrest, patted his thigh. Y/N plopped down on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, realizing how much she missed this. Steve put his arms around her waist and tugged her closer with a soft sigh. "You were an amazing babysitter, doll," he told her sincerely.

"Thank you, Stevie."

"And I was thinking…"

"Hm?"

"I want one of my own," he smirked at her, tilting her head. Y/N's eyes widened. "You think I'm ready?" Steve scoffed. "Are you kidding? Three babies. Triplets. All by yourself. You are more than ready, doll," he cheered and Y/N thought for a few minutes. "Okay," she finally breathed out, "Let's try for a baby."

Steve immediately ripped her t-shirt down the middle, hungrily pulling her in for a kiss as his hands roamed her body. "No time like the present," he growled, "I missed you so much, doll." They spent the rest of the day in their room.

---

A/N: lmao my bestie said baby Sam reminds her of Boss Baby. I guess it's kinda true. Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[batwritings]

I love you write for Sam, it's so go 🥺

Like image, he's off playing mc or streaming and you wake up from a bad dream and just need some love. You walk down to where he is dressed in one of his shirts and the reader just looks cute. He knows the drill and lets you onto his lap to relax and just spend some time with him. It gets a big flirt and maybe something more 👀👀👀

Awe, thank you! I love writing for Sam, he’s so sweet. <3 Enjoy~!

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You wake up with tears streaming down your face, fresh from a nightmare. They weren’t too common after having moved in with your lovely boyfriend Sam, but ever now and then they would come plague your life again. You sigh, pulling yourself from the bed to pad over to his streaming room.

You don’t hear any noise coming from inside, save for some soft music, but you knock just to be sure. Peeking in, you see Sam smiling over at you. That smile fades when he sees your red, puffy eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he opening his arms to you.

You shut the door behind you and wander over, adjusting his shirt you were in along the way. You let yourself be pulled into his lap, his arms cradling you gently. “Nightmare,” you mumble into his chest, his slow heartbeat calming you instantly.

“Aw, I’m sorry sweets,” he sighs holding you a bit tighter so you don’t fall off. “You wanna sit with me while I make some stuff for the SMP?”

You nod and watch him get to work. He was trying really hard to ignore the reflection of you in his computer screen as he worked. You looked absolutely adorable in his shirt, it being a bit too big for you.

Ever now and then you’d ask questions, shifting around in your spot. Sam would respond, hoping you wouldn’t notice the hardening of his member you were causing. At one point his voice cracked and you chuckled softly at him.

“Something bothering you big guy?” you asked, not intentionally trying to flirt, but definitely trying to flirt.

Sam cleared his throat, pulling his hands away from his computer. “Well, if I’m being honest,” he started, letting you shift in his lap. “You shifting is kinda starting something...and you look really cute in my shirt.”

You giggle a bit at him, straddling one of his thighs. “You gonna do something about it Sammy?” you smirk, trying to see if you can egg him on.

Sam knows this game all too well with you though. He lifts his thigh up so it brushes against your sex, your knee catching against him as well. The two of you sigh in unison, looking at each other after the fact and having a little laugh.

“Maybe I will,” he says, smiling deviously. He begins the process of lifting and dropping his leg, letting it rut against you while your knee rubs against him through his sweats. Your sighs and moans start to meld together, creating a lovely harmony that echoes across the walls.

You kiss him suddenly, unable to take it anymore. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated but neither of you seem to care. One of his hands tangle in your hand while the other holds you by the hips, guiding your movements. You feel the coil inside you building and let out a whine to warn him.

“You close sweetheart?” he asks breathily, his accent coming through just the slightest. You nod to him and he descends on your neck, leaving kisses and little nips in his wake. “Cum for me darling. Let me hear you.”

You don’t hesitate to let the coil snap, hips stuttering to a halt on Sam’s thigh. He rocks his forward into your knee a few more times before reaching his end, head buried in your neck. For the moment the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the only noises being your panting breaths and the whir of his computer.

Finally he looks back up at you with a goofy smile, kissing you sweetly. “Should probably clean up, huh?”

You plop yourself back in his lap, snuggling into his chest. “Don’t want to get up,” you yawn, getting comfortable.

Sam rolls his eyes at you but smiles, scooting forward to continue his work. “Fine,” he concedes. “But you’re doing laundry tomorrow then.”

[disneyphantomlover]

SPOILER-IFIC Reaction to "Bendy and the Dark Revival"

My voice is shot. I am sick, and I didn't record myself reacting to this. I did write my reactions down though. And now you're about to get 'm. Apologies for the cursing.

Oh hey, Joey's apartment! ... It looks like shit.

Ohohohoh! This takes place June 18, 1973! (I appreciate not waiting that long but man it would've been cool released on this date.)

Aw, Audrey's cute.

The FUCK is that poster?? ... I want one.

Huh. Hi Nathan. You are not what I expected.

FUCKIN'... YOU. Again.

....So no violin then? -smash-

And he bailed... You're showing up again, aren't you? (He did not.)

.....I don't like this.

The fuck is this door?

Wait, we know him??

OHHHH I hate you. I hate you a lot.

MMmmmm I don't trust like that.

Oh it the bastard!

I recognize this and am concerned.

-scowl- ... You fucking kidding?

OMG, it's their version of Nine Old Men.

Oh shit! I mean I expected it but Shit.

Drowning by Ink seems painful. (-looks at AU fics-)

Wait, I fell out of the pipe?

"Welcome Home", huh?

So... Alan Grey is CEO of GENT. Good to know.

Awwww an Alice Angel music box!

Okay, C to Crou-WHAT??

TORE HIS BODY IN-??

Wait, was I in the pipe those 200+ days?

Oh I don't trust this.

Cheap. ...But I still jumped.

Well, well, well....

Oh good, he's dead.

So pretty... And familiar....

OH FUCK THAT.

Oh! Allison! Hey!

TOM! 8D

Oh I look cool.

OH NO NOT SHAWN. (I did not find his tape but the message spooked me.)

451

Oh neat! Scary!

... How was that your first idea? Just... punch the RE8 tube??

I knew it was coming, I FUCKING KNEW IT.

.... ,'B( Really, Joey?

AGAIN with you!

Please don't resurrect Joey.

Oh I hate it when you fuckers talk.

HAH. Found theMeatly in the potatoes.

I swear this game scares me at random.

I do love the memes.

OMG it squeaks!

....The fuck was that?

Ooooooooo I can banish! ... Why does my image look creepy?

OH FCUK. The last game's saves are out of order! Henry no!

Oh man, I love these dioramas. They're so cheesy, but I like them.

I TAKE IT BACK. I'M SORRY, CARL!

THE BABY.

NOOOOO

I HURT THE BABY

....The fuck?

OH FUCK YOU TALK?!

NOOOOOOPE

FUCKING NOPE

UH UH

THAT'S A DEMON

WHY AM I FOlloWInG IT?!

That "Originality" Note... Either that's leading to something or someone is being REAL tongue-in-cheek here.

I got lost. Shit.

Not gonna lie, these puzzles are neat!

Say hello to who? the Fourth?

Ghost girl??

FUCK! HEY lady your-FUCK! ... Is she even there an-OF COURSE NOT.

The heck was that speedy shit??

OF. COURSE.

Porter you are a treasure.

-snerk-

Bobby? Adorable.

This is BS and I love it.

Okay, I pull out of the ink pits.... Coolcoolcoool...

HI FUCK OFF

Yes, I know the irony in dying multiple times in the rest area. (Seriously I died no less than 20 times.)

I do NOT like the sound of this demonic BBQ!

Oh ComeON I'm trying to get out!

HEAD CRABS. Or spiders I gues--OPP they're deadly!

YOU.... FUCKING DIE.

BABY!

Baby noooo come back....

FUCKING

JOEY?!

>B(

I don't want to believe you. But it makes sense.

Wait, are you actually regretful? The fuck?

Oh hey, your noteboard!

YOU. WILL NOT. MAKE ME FEEL BAD. ABOUT JOEY. FUCKING. DREW.

"I'm not the man, I'm just the memory." ....Shit man, that's beautiful.

Baby come back!

Jack!

WHY do you have mohawks??

Well that was short-lived.

Oh the city-BABY!!

He's FREN

These names are the best. Everything's derailed but "Little Heck".

"The Beef is People!" ... Not the weirdest I've seen down here.

Not gonna lie, I was expecting Alice in the butcher shop.

FUCK. Joey yo-What??

Audrey, who's your dad??

Joey you shit.

You're not wrong.

Oh heck.

Wait

OMG Allison!

....Huh?

Wait

WAIT.

HOLD ON.

SHE's WHAT??

A proper Creation??

Joey's DAUGHTER?!

.....I'M. BETRAYED. Baby was that FUCK??

Nani the fuck?

Wilson made The Keepers?

YOU HAVE TOO MANY PIPES.

See what you did was give him multiple personalities. WHY WOULD YOU GIVE THE DEMON multiple personalities??

Oh shit, Norman?

SAMMY! Such a sad song but he looks so cool here.

Wait... NOOOOOOOOOO WAAAAY.

HENRY MY MAN! You look so good!!!

Dude you're leaking.

....Fair.

Wait, what? Your father?

Interesting....

Those are familiar.

Oh shit, it's Betty! =D

OH hell, it's long, gimme a moment.

ALICE PLZ.

Bitch, come ON. It didn't work the last time you tried this!

This looks like a Wonderland's Tea Party and you know it.

Fucking FREAK.

The Tommy gun threw me off. I KNEW it would be here and it threw me off!

I'LL BANI-oh shit!

Again?!

Allison, you are seriously too nice.

GOLLY,

CAN I get an AMEN?!

GHOST! PLEASE MOVE I'M HIDING FROM THE DEMON! FUSALIUD (Context: My screen went black-and-white and said "Hide from the demon", so I was running to a hiding spot. The ghost girl popped up just as I was hiding and gave me a heart attack.)

Looks like OmegaMart in here and I love it.

....Your OC is ridiculous looking.

Oh DAMMit dude!

Oh of course you're Nathan's son.

Oh. OH. Oh. That was... A special blend of fucked up. (Anyone who gets to Chapter 5, seriously, this is fucked up.)

Aw man, Nathan seems so chill.

I know this won't end well, but whatev-

WOAH!!!

OH THAT'S SO COOL!

FUCK I'M STUCK.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

FINALLY.

OH FUCK

YOOOOOOOOOOOO LET'S GO!

CAN'T DETHRONE THE INK DEMON, FUCKER!!

Whooo... Okay, time to run. Let's g-I GOT NO LEGS. I HAVE NO LEGS.

....Yo, you talking about me, or you?

D'8 NO!

Fuck! Joey... You going to do a good?

YOU WILL NOT MAKE ME CRY.

DAMMIT (This game did the impossible. It gave Joey a fucking heart and made me feel for him.)

....Huh. This is.... You know what? It's weird, but that last fight was a nightmare, I'll take this.

Cmon, you did him dirty! (I am torn between amused and angry.)

HENRY MY MAIN MAN.

....Oh? ....OH!

Baby!