she/her ; requests are open but i’m currently rewriting a lot of stuff
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a gloomy december morning
word count: 1196
warnings: suggestive sexual content, very slight jealousy, mentions of smoking and drinking. vincent being a dreamboat
a/n: i have never written before but i watched anatomy of a fall and knew what i had to do. i am so scared and think this is garbage but i hope u guys like it :))
*
vincent is fast asleep, a true rarity for your household. he’s naked, bar the thin linen blanket draped over his hips that his mother tossed in a bag when you two first moved into this home. you brush your fingers through his silver hair, shifting to give him a soft peck on his forehead. he shifts but ultimately stays in the same position.
smiling, you gently move your duvet off of your body, shivering at the lost warmth. you scan your shared bedroom, littered with strewn clothes, empty wine bottles and folders filled with documents and find a chair with an old tee shirt on it that hits just above your underwear.
you made a mental note to at least try to clean the house sometime soon, but you just couldn’t leave your vincent alone now that you finally had him for more than two hours at a time. after a year of only seeing him at night, or when you could visit his office during your lunch break, or over facetime in the early hours of the morning, something as simple as waking up with him felt sacred. you didn’t know how much of this you had.
you brace as you push the door close as quietly as possible, hissing as your feet hit the cold tile of the linoleum of your kitchen floor. it still smells vaguely of the cake you two shared last night, picking at pieces of tiramisu between gulps of white wine and sneaky kisses even though no one was watching. you grab some ground coffee and start to heat up your stovetop espresso maker, which you got at the insistence of your very stubborn husband.
-
“love, can’t we just get an instant coffee maker? it will be so much faster” you ask from behind your laptop, tucked into your velvet sofa as the december rain gently pattered onto your roof.
vincent chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the drawer.
“you have not had a real cappuccino if it comes from a machine, chérie,” he says as he rummages through the kitchen drawers while swearing under his breath.
you rise from the couch with a soft sigh, shutting your laptop and placing it on the glass table in front of you and grabbing vincent’s lighter that’s pressed in between the couch cushions. his head whips around when he hears you click the lighter, and your cheeks widen as you walk over to him. vincent smiles back, his cigarette loosely hanging between his lips and his hair slightly disheveled from his search. he leans down ever so slightly, looking into your eyes as the flame lights the cigarette, taking a long drag before leaning against the kitchen counter.
“well rounded,” you toss the lighter behind him, crossing your arms over your chest. he hums, nodding as he breathes out wafts of smoke.
“the coffee is more well-rounded,” the word sounds a little funny coming out of his mouth as if you could see his brain forming each letter in real-time. you can’t help but giggle, reaching behind him to open the kitchen window.
“i’m sure it is”
before you can fully stand up again his hand is on your lower back, softly bringing your body against his. he smells like tobacco and the slightly too minty toothpaste you buy from the convenience store down the road. he looks so beautiful inn the dim winter light.
“tu me fais confiance, n'est-ce pas? (you trust me, don’t you?)” he asks, pressing his fingers into your side. he moves to hover just above your neck, and you can’t help but melt into his touch as he nibbles ever so gently on your neck, just below your ear. your eyes flutter closed and you feel the warmth pool in your lower stomach.
“vincent-”
“ you do, right?” he cuts you off as his hand wanders to the front of your body, playing with the waistband of your panties. his fingers ghost just above your cunt, and you sigh.
“of course, my love. always.”
you whine from the loss of contact as he steps away from you, taking a drag with a slight smile on his face.
“bon,” he says, his free hand caressing the side of your face.
“so we’ll go get our moka pot - not machine - tonight”.
-
you grin at the memory as you pour two shots of espresso into vincent’s favorite mug, along with a splash of whole milk, and turn on the burner to make another for yourself. you rock on your feet as you think of what to make for breakfast - maybe eggs? but vincent forgot to run to the farmers market, maybe jam on toast. there might be some leftover brioche-
you jump when you feel a pair of hands wrap around your chest smiling as you feel your husbands face nuzzle into your shoulder, pressing a few faint kisses on your skin while his hair tickles your neck.
“i thought you’d sleep for a few more hours honey,” you say, turning around to hand him his cup of coffee and laughing as his eyes brighten. he takes a sip, closing his eyes as he drinks.
“couldn’t sleep,” he says after a few moments, opening his eyes to stare into yours. his voice is deeper than normal, and you can tell he just woke up because there’s still a gravelly edge to it.
“i sleep poorly without you, honey.”
you raise your eyebrows as you let your fingers graze his chest and down his stomach.
“that’s a good one, do you tell all your girlfriends that?”
he rolls his eyes, taking a big sip before setting his mug on the counter.
“i’m being serious. i swear, every time it would get late and i’d try to sleep on sandra’s couch, i just couldn’t.”
your body goes rigid at the sound of her name but you try and ignore it, tracing circles onto his stomach. your mouth feels a little drier than it was a few minutes before.
vincent notices, of course he does. there’s nothing you could do that would get past him, the stellar lawyer.
“don’t be like that,” he whispers, cupping your hand in his face. you try to keep your gaze down but he tilts your head up.
you roll your eyes.
“every day while i was gone, all i wanted was to be home with you. you were all i could think about. you are all i ever think about.”
you feel lightheaded at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him deeply, sighing as your hand wanders down to the waistband of his boxers. you feel him smile into the kiss, putting out the cigarette so he has both hands free to touch you.
“take me to bed?”
you feel vincent’s stomach tense as your hand dips into his boxers. he gives you a soft kiss on the side of your face.
“how can i say no when you ask so nicely”.
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“Shame” Part 7
A Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader fan fiction
Plot: For the last four years, Y/N and Pedro have been dating in secret. The fear of rejection has turned them into a mystery that could only be encountered in yearning looks on red carpets or hands that are touching one another briefly. However, for the longest time, things have been working out that way just fine. But now Pedro's agency wants him to have a PR relationship with another woman and neither Y/N nor Pedro is sure if their love is going to survive that.
Warnings: swearing, mgg is here to STAY (this is for you kim, love ya)
A/N: you guuuyss!! hello!!! i was gone for such a long time (?) i was just really busy with university and just life, but yeah, im back for now, i guess <3
"To be honest, I didn't expect you to show up.", the tall man states as his eyes light up at the sight of the young woman. Y/N just chuckles at the sincerity in his voice. She watches how he takes a step to the side, offering her to walk through the door into his home. There is a certain tension, lingering in the chilly evening air. Who would have thought, that they were living in the same city… She mouths a brief 'thank you' before doing so and waits for him to close the door. However, before he does his brown eyes scan the street in front of the building. Curious if any paparazzi have seen her. But once he realizes that no one has noticed his guest his posture visibly softens.
„Well, I didn’t expect you to reach out to me, Gubler.“
At the mention of his last name, he giggles (actually giggles) and wipes the corner of his mouth with his left thumb. His gaze falls on the floor for a second, before he meets Y/N's again. She can clearly see that he wants to say something in return but doesn't. Instead, he makes a hand gesture, telling her to step further into the house.
„Oh my god… This is actually so stunning.“, the y/h/ced woman whispers as she wanders down the corridor into his living area. She can sense Matthew’s eyes on her form but acts like she has no idea. "Thanks.", is all she receives back.
A silence falls upon the two again and when she sits down on his long couch, she feels its softness:" You know, I always wanted a couch like this myself." "Why didn't you buy one?"
"Are you sure this is the one?", Pedro scratched his chin, his finger moved up his face and stayed underneath his nose. He taps his skin a few times and sighs:" Don't you think that leather would be a better choice?" There was something in his look that told Y/N that the decision was already made.
"I don't know."
He lets out a soft chuckle:" Well, I tend to spend a lot of time in here. So I figured, that the least I can do is make this space as cozy as humanly possible." Y/N feels how she sinks further into the colorful and fuzzy furniture:" Oh Really? Because whenever I see videos of you meeting fans, you appear to be outside quite a lot!" At that, Matthew laughs out loud:" You've seen videos of me online?"
"I may have looked you up."
The actor crosses his arms in front of his chest, and Y/N watches how his muscles flex. She swallows and her hands stroke the material of the couch. "You looked me up?"
"You're asking me a lot of questions." His chuckle is as soft as honey. Y/N already wants to hear it again." You're right, sorry." "But yeah, I did."
Hot tears were dwelling up in her eyes and she felt how her hands were violently shaking:" God! Everyone thinks that you are so sweet! That you're this perfect nice guy! Hollywood's goddamn fucking sweetheart! I wish people could know the disgusting and ugly and horrendous truth about you and your stupid and mean lies! And- and- and the way you're only acting! You're not like that at all! You have them all fooled!"
Pedro stared at her.
Her hand flew up to wipe her eyes:" You're so mean!"
"You don't mean that.", Pedro whispered and swallowed thickly.
"You're so mean."
#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal angst#angst#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fic#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro x reader#pedro angst#x reader#pedro x you#pedro pascal x you#Spotify
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chatting about all the gossip to this picture
Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera during the Judgement of Paris.
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OH MY GOD ?!
THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY…
pairing: (fernando alonso x wolff! reader)
note: is my first ever work on this site smut? yes. do i happen to not know how to write smut? yes. is this my first time writing smut? yes. is this a bad idea? probably. but we move.
content warning: oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, verb tenses jumping like frogs in lakes
“And Fernando Alonso crosses the finish line in the Bahrain Grand Prix, ending up 4th! Not bad considering the Spaniards track record recently.” You hear the reporters comment, but it’s a distant noise. Fernando finally got out of the midfield fluke he and Aston Martin was having, and you couldn’t be more happy for your partner.
He, however, was even more enthusiastic than you. After smiling through the media pen, he rushes over to your motorhome where he knew you would be waiting for him. Meeting anywhere but your own places was too risky with the media being everywhere, and you weren’t ready to tell your dad just yet about Fernando. He completely understood of course, the age gap was something he knew your dad would take a long long while to warm up to.
He knocked 5 times on your door in a happy beat, before you answered it with a smile and letting him in wordlessly, noticing his good spirits. You were about to congratulate him on his good results, but the second you turnt around you felt his lips on yours and his hands on your body.
You indulge yourself in his taste for a second before, “Fernando we couldn’t possibly—”
He kisses your words away before you finish your sentence, one of his hands moving to your cheek and another still on your waist. Having sex in your Mercedes motorhome would not be an easy thing to achieve, but by god will Fernando achieve it.
He was kissing down your neck before you could protest again, his left hand moving from your waist down to the inside of your pants, fingers hovering just over your panties. Your back was to the wall of the motorhome, and you swear if he pushed you a little bit more the whole place would come tumbling over.
The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your pussy was enough to knock all your senses out of you, however, and you kissed him back fervently as he suddenly pushed his digits into you, making you stifle your moan into his neck.
“Nando we really shouldn’t, my dad— ah— will come in any minute now— fuck right there— shouting profanities at no one in particular because Lewis and George double dnf’ed. You know we’re— oh my fucking god— gonna get caught.”
He suddenly takes his fingers out of you and you groan in displeasure.
“If you’re so worried about getting caught, why don’t we just stop?” He whispers in your ear with a teasing tone. The bastard.
“Asshole,” You reply, kissing him again and pushing him backwards until he’s sat on your couch. Proceeding to straddle him, you take your hand to his racing suit, gliding your fingers delicately from his chest all the way down to his cock, feeling the bulge so evident in his pants. “Or maybe,” you ponder, “we do stop, and your little guy doesn’t get any attention.”
“Please don’t call my dick little guy, mi amor,” he replies jokingly before pulling your Mercedes shirt up, kissing your chest while you grind down on him. “Always so pretty for me. I need more.”
In a second, he flips you over like you weighed nothing and laid you down on the couch, tugging your pants off of you as slowly as he could.
“Nando I swear to god, you better stop fucking teasing me,” you tell him, impatient. He chuckles before leaning back up to kiss you, then slowly making his way down your chest, taking your bra off effortlessly before moving down again to actually take off your pants, leaving you with nothing but your panties on.
“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that I’m the only one naked here?” You ask him, but with no accusation— he looked sexy in his black fireproofs. He kisses your inner thigh, a sight that would’ve brought any woman to their knees, before replying, “Relax, amor. I want to take care of you first, spread your legs wider.”
You follow his instructions with a hazy mind, not in the mood for any foreplay. Fernando takes your panties off slowly, kissing your leg as it goes along. He’s taking his time, he knows it’s making you want him even more.
“Look how wet you are for me, corazón,” he murmurs, pressing a swift teasing kiss on your clit. The action was enough for you to buck your hips lightly onto his nose, before he takes the bait and fully puts his mouth on your pussy, and begins to eat you out.
He moves like a man starved, holding onto your waist to take you even deeper in his mouth as if he wasn’t already. You try to stifle your moans with your hand to no avail, putting the other one in Fernando’s hair and pulling on it, eliciting a deep groan from him that vibrated up your pussy.
“Just like that— god baby you’re so good— more,” you whine, grinding on his face. He moves his tongue around your folds, making sure his nose bumps your clit every so often to hear you moan even louder.
You throw more endless praises in his direction, “Oh my god, I can’t— you’re so fucking good— I’m gonna cum soon baby,” you moan out, unable to control your volume any longer. Passerbys outside be damned. You feel him speed up at your words, focusing on your clit and inserting two fingers into you to help, making you whine even more.
“I fucking love you Nando, I’m so close—” you mumble, gripping his hair even tighter.
“I love you more corazón, being so good for me,” he murmurs near your folds, the vibration making you moan again. He attaches his mouth back on your clit, and the feeling of his beard is starting to burn but you don’t care, it makes you want him even more.
He knows you’re close, he can feel your walls get tighter on his two fingers and that only makes him add another one in, making you practically mewl at the feeling.
Joined with his tongue circling your clit, the coil in your stomach uncurled and you felt your orgasm release, moaning into your hand that did nothing to hide your volume. You try to close your legs but Fernando keeps them in place, eating out your high with a satisfied look in his eyes.
He climbs up your body, kissing you on the way back like he did before, on your inner thigh, your torso, your chest, and then your mouth, tasting yourself on him.
“That was— fuck, Fernando. That was worth any trouble I’d ever get into,” you say breathlessly. He looked so pretty like this, hid away from the world, just wanting to be yours.
He gave you a light kiss on the nose before replying, “Told you so. You just need to trust me.”
“I do trust you, just not very much in the ‘sex somewhere my dad can find us’ part,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him and a long kiss. “I love you, you know that right?”
He kisses your cheek before settling his body on top of your bare one and replying, “I know. Of course I do, because I love you more.”
“Okay, competitive,” you mumble sarcastically. Before you could help him with his predicament, however, a loud knock startled the both of you.
“Y/N, are you in there?” A deep Austrian accent asks, muffled through the door.
Oh shit. It’s your dad.
You quickly attempt to put on your clothes, ushering Fernando wildly to move to the other couch. There was no other exit in the motorhome, which had you scouring your brain thinking of an explanation for this random Aston Martin driver in a Mercedes motorhome.
“Uh— just a second dad!” You shout, and Fernando could hear how frantic your tone was. Finally managing to put your pants on the right way, you open the door and lean on the doorway inconspicuously. “Hey! What's up?”
Toto Wolff, Mercedes team principal and scariest father in the world when it came to someone you were dating, took a peek over your shoulder— not so hard with his height— and saw Fernando sitting on the couch he just ate you out on, ‘reading’ a book with his legs crossed to cover his hard on.
Fernando looks up and nods at Toto, not wanting to say anything that’ll damn him. Toto nods back, but is still suspicious as to why a Formula 1 driver other than his own ones were in your motorhome.
He was used to Lewis or Mick there, sure, but this was just…odd, to him. “What’s Alonso doing in there?”
You look at Fernando then back to your dad, acting as innocent as you possibly could. “Oh him? He just wanted to escape from the press a bit. He was gonna stay in Aston Martin’s paddock but he wants to get away from them too at the moment, I’m sure you understand.”
“And he…chose your motorhome to stay in?”
“Well you know I can’t help but help people!” You replied awkwardly. The silence stretches out for so long that you just wait for the ground to swallow you up, before Toto shrugged and finally said, “Just came by to tell you that our dinner with Lewis, George, and Mick will be at 7pm instead of 6pm. Our debrief might take longer because of the double dnf.”
“Oh, okay! I’ll be there, I think Lewis is picking me up.” Toto seemed content with that answer and nodded at this, kissing your cheek and telling you to stay safe before walking away from your motorhome.
You sigh a breath of relief, glad that he didn’t ask any more questions about Fernando, although you doubt that’d be the last time they would see each other.
“So you’re going out to dinner with Hamilton tonight?” Fernando asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. His legs were still crossed one over the other to cover his hard on, and his hands were clasped together in the middle. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he looked like someone who was interviewing you.
Smirking at that thought, you reply, “Me and my dad are having dinner with the drivers, not just Lewis. You’re not jealous, are you?”
Fernando shakes his head, but you know him better than that. He uncrosses his legs before patting his thigh, “Close the door. Let me show you how much fun you can have before that dinner.”
Following his instructions once again, you close the door before straddling him with a grin, about to continue where you two had left off earlier.
Unbeknownst to both of you, however, an oblivious Toto Wolff had accidentally dropped his favorite pen from his pocket just at the door of your motorhome. And he was about to come back and retrieve it.
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everyone hang it up i found the best dean winchester writer 😭
Hidden Feelings
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: After finding yourselves stranded under a less than ideal circumstance, feelings come to light.
Requested by Anonymous: “Yaaaay in that case can I pleaaase request a dean x reader one shot in which she gets badly injured while they are on a hunt in the woods and they have to take cover in a cabin, she’s loosing a lot of blood and dean is freaking out, maybe they get stuck there for days and she develops an infection?? As for the relationship between them maybe they have feelings for each other but still hasn’t confessed yet?? You can play around this however you want, and change whatever you want. As long as I get some flangst and protective dean 🥺
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: angst, injury, blood, stitches, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, fluff, kissing
It was a colder fall day than most others, weather that was not accommodating for you in the slightest. But, then again it isn’t everyday that you’re bleeding from your leg in a potentially life threatening way with a myriad of minor injuries to accompany it. So, when you really think about the two and how they compare, maybe the chilly weather wasn’t nearly as bad as the latter.
You knew it wasn’t, but it didn’t help your cause.
Weiterlesen
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Soft Touch
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Comforting Dean might seem like a hefty task, but all he needs is you.
Requested by Anonymous: “request!! can you write something where the reader comforts dean after a bad day, it doesn’t have to be major trauma or anything just dean needing physical touch and not knowing how to ask for it and the reader making sure he’s comfortable and okay and just a bunch of fluff and comfort”
Warnings: angst, language, injury, alcohol, fluff
The bunker was fairly quiet, near completely. Sam was tucked away in his room, and if you had to guess, he was probably doing research. It’s what he’d been doing in the library for a little while, sitting there quietly with a few lore books and his laptop before he gathered his stuff with a polite goodnight and went to his room.
Sam Winchester is the only person you know that decompresses after a hunt by researching for the next.
You heard the sound of his tv when you walked by, muffled and soft. The sound of your footfalls accompanied it, a soft set of taps on the cold floor as you wandered about in search of your beau.
He hadn’t been in bed at all, his side still made. It wasn’t uncommon for him, not really, but he’d had a rough day.
It was a seven hour drive back to the bunker, and he was damn near running on fumes because he hadn’t slept well the night before. The motel bed was not doing any favors, stiff and thin enough to feel the springs dig into your muscles. The dip in the center made an uncomfortable pit, and he was just about ready to snag you and sleep in the Impala. He couldn’t sleep nearly as well without you.
He was sore from the hunt, muscles aching and begging for a bath, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of them. He’d obtained a myriad of injuries, none serious or major, but the combination was a melting pot of misery when you put them together. Not to mention the constant state of war he’s in with his own mind.
The halls still smelled like dinner, pizza and a mix of burgers, something quick and easy. None of you had the energy to do more than takeout.
You heard the quiet hum of the lights lining the hall, and your sigh upon seeing an empty library, and an empty map room. The bathroom was empty too, and the Dean cave he’d set up. There was no note on the desk by the bed, so that was an indication he was still there.
But your search wasn’t very lengthy much to your relief, a simple glance into the kitchen revealing just the one you were looking for.
His back was to you as he stood at the sink. He’d discarded his shirt after dinner, a habit he’d gotten into as of late. He got hot very easily, and it was a simple and more comfortable solution. Besides, you wouldn’t complain about that.
The muscles in his back tensed and moved as he washed the dishes in the sink, those damn hotdog pajama pants sitting on his hips.
His hair was a bit tangled and mussed, brushing against the nape of his neck and curling outward. He’d been growing it out, same for his beard, a mixture of not having as much time to handle it and wanting to try something new.
You saw a half drank glass of whiskey on the table as you passed it, the uncapped bottle sitting next to it.
He knew you were there, heard the soft pattern of your footfalls, not to mention he could sense your presence regardless of hearing you or not. But it was confirmed when you reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear.
He pulled his gaze from the plate in his hand, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Thought you’d run off for good,” you teased, your eyes meeting his.
His chuckle was soft and sweet, accompanied by a shake of his head. “Ain’t runnin’ off without taking you with me, sweetheart.”
“Well, ain’t that a relief?”
You notice the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth, tired but surely present.
He rinses off that last plate, sticking it in the drying rack on the counter before wiping his hands dry on the tea towel draped over the sink. He turns to you, hands settling on your hips before they glide forwards, snaking themselves around your waist and tugging you closer. They were warm and calloused, the perfect combination.
You rested your hands on his chest, his skin warm and radiating to you. Your gaze shifts to the scrape on his shoulder, fading into a cut. He hadn’t tended to it, not really, nor did his mess with the one on his bicep and just above his beard on his cheekbone.
“How about we get you cleaned up, then head to bed?” You say, tipping your head back to look at him.
He took one of his hands from where it rested around you to settle by your cheek and tangle with the hair at the nape of your neck.
“You sayin’ I didn’t do a good job?” He asks, and you just barely saw the raise of his brow under the hair that fell over his forehead.
“Pretty much,” you answer with a shrug, a smile tugging at your lips at the sight of his frown and crease between his brows.
He tugged you in closer abruptly and you made a delighted noise of surprise, moving your hands from his chest to wrap up around his shoulders. His nose bumped against yours, the brush of his lips gentle before he they pressed a kiss on your own. It was lingering and sweet, borderline steamy before he parted, only to press one, two, three more to your lips.
“Trying to distract me?” You ask, furrowing your brows with a soft smile as you look at him.
He chuckles as he shakes his head, brushing your hair out of your face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t have to try to do that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, instead rolling your eyes as you wriggle from his arms.
“Sit down, Winchester,” you say, walking towards the cupboard.
You hear his sigh as you grab the first aid kit, freshly replenished a few days ago. You hear that sigh but when you turn around, sure enough he’s taken his seat at the kitchen table, swirling his unfinished glass of whiskey in his hand before gulping it down and pouring another.
Now it’s your turn to sigh, head shaking softly and he most definitely heard it.
You open the lid to the kit, pondering over what you wanted before it came to mind. You snagged a package of an alcohol wipe, and the small bottle of antiseptic, grabbing a small stack of gauze.
None of his injuries were severe, but it’s no good for any wound, superficial or not, to have dirt trapped in it while it tries to heal.
Anyone knew that. Anyone except Dean Winchester.
Well, it’s not that he didn’t know, he very much did. He just lacked a certain caring when it came to himself. And by lacking, he didn’t care at all. He was always that way. He cared enough to eat and bathe, to brush his teeth and at least have you brush his hair, though that was purely because he secretly not so secretly enjoys how it feels. But in actuality, he didn’t care much for himself, didn’t see a reason to.
In fact, the only reason he cared even a little bit was so he could be around to protect you and Sam, didn’t have anything to do with himself.
“No more liquor, De,” you sigh, capping the bottle and pushing it away from his reach.
You didn’t fail to notice the way he looked at you for it, brows furrowed and gaze narrowed. And you didn’t fail to notice the way those dimples formed by the corners of his mouth, barely visible through his beard but you knew with one hundred percent certainty that they were there.
That was his form of self care. A bottle of whiskey or a six pack of beer. But that was no form of caring at all, no form of soothing.
You simply lift your hand and run it over his head, caressing over his hair, your thumb brushing over his cheek softly. Your hand drops to rest under his chin, tipping his head back to drop a soft kiss to his lips, something that made your words sound not so bad to him now. So much so that he made a noise of discontent when you pulled away to tend to those wounds of his.
He didn’t care about a damn scrape or two, he wanted you.
You sigh as you tear open a couple packets of alcohol wipes, plucking one from its package and unfolding it.
You started with his arm, holding his bicep in your hand, cumbersome at best because he’d become quite muscular as of late. You noticed the slight twitch he’d made in reaction to the cold alcohol stinging the open scrape, but it’d barely shown on his face, hard for anyone but you to tell.
You cleaned away the excess dirt and blood with gentle swipes. You set down the dirtied wipe on the table, reaching for the gauze and bottle of antiseptic. You squeezed a generous amount on, returning your grip on his arm as you dabbed it directly on the scrape this time.
He may think you were being dramatic, you knew it did. It was only a few scrapes, the most superficial of injuries you can get. The equivalent of a paper cut in the world of hunting. But you were all about caring for your big, strong tough guy even if he couldn’t give a damn about any of it when it came to himself.
“You should really take better care of yourself after hunts, De,” you say, beginning to repeat the process on his shoulder.
“I ain’t gonna die from a couple of scrapes and scratches, sweetheart,” he says, as careless as ever, his tone lighthearted.
You exhale a huff, tossing the second wipe down in a more obvious show of your frustration.
“Would you want me to say that about myself?” You ask, brow raised in challenge.
“Y/n,” he said sternly.
You could tell he was angry, or the beginnings of it. His jaw was tense, along with his shoulders. You could feel it under your palm, a noticeable difference. Not to mention the look on his face alone was enough of a giveaway.
That crease between his brows never left, only deepened by your words. Those dimples were still adorning the corners of his mouth unable to be masked by the beard that framed his jaw. Nor could it hide the subtle flush in his cheeks, tinged with anger and frustration.
To him, the comparison was incomparable. So ridiculously, unbelievably able to be compared because he was not in the same bracket as you. He’ll, he’d die for you, and has. He’s sold his damn soul to a low life demon just so you would be okay, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. He’d rather get torn to shreds by a werewolf, become some wendigo’s dinner, be made into some monsters toy than have so much as a hand laid on you.
The comparison between you and him was one he could not make. Because you were the world, a radiant being and far better than the angels he’s seen in his lifetime and he knows it for a fact. You were his world and he was simply a fleck in it. He’s always felt that way, and the whole idea has been putting a strain on him for as long as he can remember.
He always hated that you were a hunter, because dammit it scared him more than anything. He’s seen what monsters do to people, innocent lives. He’s seen what the life does to those who enter it, how it changes them, he’s one of them. He’s seen the sheer trauma it’s put you through, the agony and pain. He sees it with every case, every hunt that’s added to the endless chart.
If he thinks about it for too long, it’ll drive him insane, push him over the edge of emotion and into a fit of rage. And that, that reaction alone only adds to the self hatred he feels. To be an angry person when you’re so delicate and everything he wishes he could be. It spirals into every avenue.
He couldn’t bring himself to put caring about a scrape on himself at the same level as an injury on you. He couldn’t do it. Even so much as a paper cut on you would have him furrowing his brows. It’d need something as simple as a bandaid and he’d be sure to put it on, giving you hell if you tried to brush it off.
No matter the severity, if you were hurt in any way, shape, or form, it mattered to him.
He didn’t give a damn about himself, he gave a damn about you.
He didn’t say anything else, and you sighed, softening your glare and settling your hand on his other cheek.
You noticed the way he leaned into your touch, however, his hair falling in the direction it so pleased as he tilted his head and tipped it back, his eyes falling closed.
Dean Winchester was rough, tough and rugged. There was no denying that. He was stereotypical, and put up every front he felt he needed to. But when everything is stripped away, when it came down to it, Dean was a man of comfort. That’s really all he’s ever wanted, no matter how much he refused to say it.
But it’s a trait that’s guarded with extra security, one he tries to keep on lock down from you even, but he can’t keep that from his source of comfort. He’d be foolish to think he’d be able to keep that from you.
The subtle flush in his cheeks had accentuated his freckles, soft flecks kissing along his skin, almost comically delicate in contrast to the tough persona he puts on. Especially the way his lashes curled over top of them when his eyes were closed.
You were gentler this time if that were possible, gentler in comparison to the other two you just tended to. His skin was angry and red around the uneven scrape, some of it smudged lightly with blood and some not.
His beard felt prickly and soft all the same against your palm, the longest he’s ever let it grow. His hair fell over his eyes, glimmers of green breaking through as he opened them to look at you.
He didn’t say anything, just looked. His gaze is softer than it was moments before, looking at every detail he can soak in as if he’d never see them again. Quiet as he admired. His expression was unreadable, yet so openly blatant all the same.
You knew he’d calmed down from a couple minutes ago. You knew it with the way his hands grasped your hips and pulled you closer. You sat down on his lap, a soft sigh exhaling past your lips.
“Well, I was all done anyway,” you say, tone lighthearted and teasing as you toss what was in your hand to the side.
“Oh good,” he says, pulling you all the more closer.
He tucks you into himself as tightly as possible, and you feel how deeply he inhaled as his face settled against the crook of your neck briefly, felt his exhale against your skin.
This. This was all he ever needed. All the comfort he’d known and cared for.
His warmth was unbeatable, his skin smooth and heated as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“I could get used to this no shirt thing, you know,” you said, soft but mischievous, that smile of yours plenty proof of it.
You hear his chuckle, see that half grin of his as he looks at you with half open eyes, a chunk of hair dipped between his brows in a damn prince charming sort of way.
“Yeah?” He inquires, though he knows your answer already.
You simply respond with a nod and a soft laugh that sends a feeling of warmth through his chest like it’s the first time he’s heard it. Nearly sent over the edge when that laugh presses to his lips and dissolves into a kiss.
Damn was he ever lucky, any tension he’s carried having long since dissipated just from your mere presence.
He’d felt absolutely miserable, purely stuck below the surface of his thoughts that never fail to drown him. But in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter so much. They could be thoughts to worry about some other time.
Because right now he’s got you.
—
Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @elliewigginton20 @wandering-winchesters @senjoritanana @iprobablyshipit91
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destiel are my personal roman empire
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Buzz cut season.
Part 1, previous chapter here
Summary: Sam looses his hair and his siblings can't help but make jokes about it.
Warnings: humor, siblings being siblings, mentions of violence later on), mentions of a dead mother and cat, mentioning of self destructive behavior
Pairings: Sam and Dean Winchester x younger sister! reader, Castiel x Winchester!reader (platonic)
A/N: This fanfiction is based on THIS post made by @myfandomhell <3
"Well, Sammy. There's no need to lie about it.", Dean speaks, while leaning back in his chair. He is sitting in front of his brother in the library of the bunker. On the table are multiple piles of ancient books about witchcraft and mysticism, however, Dean chooses to ignore them:" After all those years of begging you, I am actually very happy that you listened to my advice. You do look much better like this. Even though, I probably wouldn't have cut it this short, just-."
Sam closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose in pure frustration. After all, this has been going on for three days now. He takes another book into his hands and sighs:" I really don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I didn’t do it."
“Didn’t do what?”, Y/N who wanders into the room tilts her head, she places her pink “best sister in the whole world” mug on the table before sitting down next to Dean. He scoffs and playfully nudges her arm:” Our drill Sergeant over there claims that he didn’t cut his hair.”
It takes her a few seconds, but eventually, her carefree smile begins to turn into an irritated one: "W-What?" Dean, who didn't catch his sister's change of expression chuckles as if it's the funniest thing in the whole world:" I know, right?" Y/N clenches her jaw before she stands up again. She steps over to one of the large bookshelves and scans the old (and occasionally dusty) books. A few seconds later she pulls one out and opens it up. Her y/e/ced eyes skip over the chapters rather nervously.
"What's wrong?", Dean asks, still grinning from ear to ear as he takes a sip of his beer. However, when the huntress doesn't respond he turns around. "Y/N?", Sam shuts his laptop and blinks in bewilderment:" What are you looking for?"
His sister looks up, a worried look on her face:" You promise that you didn't simply cut your hair?" The younger Winchester wrinkles his forehead while letting out a breathless chuckle:" Hold on a second, Y/N, what-." "I need you to promise me?" "I promise." There is something flashing up in her eyes, that tells him this situation just took a dark turn.
Y/N takes a deep breath before nearly slamming the book on the table. The two brothers move closer towards it and for a few seconds they simply stare at the brownish paper, before looking back up. "What…what are we looking at?", Dean asks, while scratching his temple, his green eyes move back towards the pages. Y/N's right index finger finds its way to the little caricature:" This!" "And that's…?"
"Two days ago, while I was reading the newspaper I happened to stumble across an article about some guy who needed to be institutionalized after he started ripping off his own skin. He claimed, that a little goblin-like creature took his late mother's gold necklace.", Y/N explains:" I thought it was funny, you know. Small Goblins, taking people's prized possessions." She clears her throat:" Anyway. Yesterday, I read another article. A woman started to cut her arm off, declaring that she couldn't care less about her limbs after a small green creature grabbed her cat's ashes. She had to be institutionalized as well."
"So what? How does that have anything to do with me?", Sam asks and Y/N runs a hand through her hair. "Well.", she starts and sits down:" I looked into it, and turns out this little goblin actually exists. It's Irish folklore, and the opposite of that whole "golden pot at the end of the rainbow" myth. They're called "Cavecrackler". They primarily come during the night and steal something that's very meaningful to the individual in order to kind of bond with the victim. And then…"
Y/N stops talking and bites her lips. "Then what?", Dean asks, while Sam's eyes move down to the page. They widen as soon as he reads the last paragraph:" They slowly steal their souls."
#supernatural#x reader#supernatural x you#supernatural x reader#supernatural x sibling reader#x sister reader#dean x reader#sam x reader#dean winchester x sister#dean winchester x sister reader#sam winchester x sister#castiel#castiel x reader#humor#spn#spn humor
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i don’t know what it is but seeing destiel edits makes me literally FERAL THE EMOTIONS I FEEL FOR THESE TWO MEN AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS INSANE
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Buzz cut season.
Prologue.
Summary: Sam looses his hair and his siblings can't help but make jokes about it.
Warnings: humor, siblings being siblings, mentions of violence later on)
Pairings: Sam and Dean Winchester x younger sister! reader, Castiel x Winchester!reader (platonic)
A/N: This fanfiction is based on THIS post made by @myfandomhell <3
It was a blood-curling scream, that woke Y/N up in the middle of the night. It sounded as if somebody was not only skinned alive but also thrown into the darkest and deepest pits of hell. She pauses and holds her breath while sitting up straight in her bed. Her left hand is moving underneath her pillow where she had placed her gun. Then she waits. And for a moment she almost believes that maybe she has simply imagined it, but when another scream pierces the silence the woman rapidly gets up.
A shiver runs down her spine, while she moves towards the hallway. It's dark and the tiles underneath her bare feet are cold. The youngest Winchester looks left and around, before moving towards her brother's room.
Maybe he heard it as well. "Dean?", she whispers, and peeks into his room only to discover that his bed is empty. She looks around and licks her lips:" Fuck."
A few moments later, she suddenly senses a hand on her shoulder. Y/N quickly spins around and lifts her gun, just to meet eyes with her brother. He holds up his hands:" Hey, easy. It's just me. Are you okay?", his deep voice is one loaded with concern, as his gaze scans her face for any bruises. However, once she nods his features soften almost immediately:" Good."
Y/N opens her mouth to say something in return, but before any words can leave her lips another scream fills the bunker. It echoes through the halls. "Sammy!", Dean shouts and rushes past his sister toward his youngest brother's room. He opens the wooden door and instantly raises his gun when he notices a tall man. He has his back turned to the two siblings, while he stands in the corner of the room. His hands are frantically rubbing over his short hair.
"Who are you and where is my brother?!"
Still, the stranger in Sam's room isn't moving. He seems as if he is staring at himself in the small mirror. "Answer me!" Y/N furrows her eyebrows before she pushes past Dean. "Y/N, what-? No!", he tries to stop her but she only shushes him. The y/h/ced woman moves closer… and closer… her hand slowly moves up to touch the man's shoulder. She turns him around and her eyes widen at the sight in front of her:" Oh my fucking god."
The whole room is silent while Dean and Y/n stare at their brother in pure shock. For a moment, Y/n nearly forgets how to breathe correctly and when she looks over at Dean she gasps:" Oh my god, that's- he's-... I'm...
"Why the fuck are you bald?", is all Dean can ask while he continues to stare at his younger brother. Sam swallows thickly, before once again examining himself in the mirror.
———
"Will you stop staring at me like that?", Sam who is sitting at the table in the kitchen can feel his sibling's eyes on him.
"Well, I'm sorry, Sammy", Dean replies and walks over to him. He sits down in front of him and makes a few hand gesticulations:" I just have never seen you this...naked." Sam rolls his eyes at his brother's comment:" I still have hair." "Barely."
Y/N chuckles. However, when Sam gives her an aggravated look she clears her throat:" Sorry." "Can I touch it?" "No, Dean., Sam shuts his laptop and stands up:" You can't touch it. And by the way, could you two stop acting like this is some kind of joke and maybe help me find out why I lost my hair in the first place?"
His sister brings her coffee mug up to her mouth:" Well, perhaps you're just getting old." Sam blinks and tilts his head:" I'm 36." "Yeah, I know. But remember Bobby said that he began to lose his hair around the time he was 25.", She explains and out of the corner of his eye she notices that Dean is hiding his smirk behind his own mug. Sam simply shakes his head, before walking out of the room. Defeated:" Shut up."
#supernatural#x reader#supernatural x you#supernatural x reader#supernatural x sibling reader#x sister reader#dean x reader#sam x reader#dean winchester x sister#dean winchester x sister reader#sam winchester x sister#castiel#castiel x reader#humor#spn#spn humor
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lowkey wanna write this as a x sister!reader imagine 😭😭😭😭 sounds super FUN!
There should have been an episode where Sam woke up one day with a buzzcut, and he immediately thinks Dean did it, and the whole episode is Dean trying not to get murdered by Sam, while trying to figure out what actually happened.
Turns out it's some rare goblin creature that creates a link to it's victims by consuming their hair, and slowly siphons their soul away after the link is formed.
Dean is trying frantically to find and kill this thing before it eats Sam's soul. While Sam is just buried in spell books trying to find a magical hair restoration spell.
Throughout the episode Dean is making as many army/navy buzzcut jokes as he can imagine.
Secret ending where after they kill the creature Dean prays to Cas, who shows up and says something along the lines of "always happy to restore the abomination"(in reference to Sam's hair). And he puts Sam back to normal.
After which Sam turns to Dean and asks "Why didn't you call him in the first place?"
Dean shrugs "I mean, it was kinda funny, sailor." *gives mock salute before running for his life*
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cant someone pull a lana del rey on jensen ackles like when someone stole her laptop and uploaded all of her unreleased songs we could steal his phone and upLOAD THE WHOLE DESTIEL SCENE BC I AM BEGGING ON MY KNEES AT THIS POINT
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Red lights.
Plot: If guilt had a name it would be Dean Winchester.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister!Reader
Warnings: mention of violence, mention of Demon!Dean, needles, blood, fluff in the end but only a bit
Everything happened so fast. So very fast.
The red lightning, which emerges from the lamps above you turns the bunker into a place you're unable to recognize. This whole situation has been feeling like a never-ending nightmare for a while and now it was also looking like one. Dean has always reassured you, that while the world around you was filled with ghosts and demons he would always look out for you. And you never questioned him. However, right now, you were hiding from him as if he turned into one of those monsters he swore to protect you from. You look up you can notice it in Sam's eyes. You're not the only one terrified of your oldest brother.
"Smart, Sam. Looking the place down. Doors won't open. I get it."
His deep voice is echoing through the empty and cold hallways. "But here's the thing. I don't wanna leave. Not till I find you two."
Your relationship with Dean has always been different from the one you have with Sam. While the younger brother actually feels like a brother to you, Dean has always meant more to you. After all, he practically raised you since you were a little child. However, at this moment, while his hammer was destroying the door, you tried your best to still see him in all of this. He may be a demon, but underneath all of that hatred your brother had to remain… right? But it becomes much more difficult with every second that passes. You take a deep breath.
"Y/N.", Dean suddenly says and Sam instantly pushes you behind his bigger body. "Oh, come on.", you can see how a fake pout emerges on his face:" I just want to talk to my sweet little baby girl." For a moment he lowers his weapon as he stares you down through the shattered wood:" Don't think, that I won't also kill you. I can still sense my love for you, however, it is not enough for me to save you. But if you help me kill Sammy, I might make it quick for you." There's a ringing in your ears. "Don't listen to him.", Sam whispers but his voice is muffled and feels unbelievably far away.
Dean has never ever threatened you. Even when you were much younger and he had earned a beating from John, because of something that you did on his watch… he never ever threatened you before. It was something that seemed impossible to you. But now it had happened and it filled you with an unknown emotion.
"Come on.", Sam speaks and clutches your hand, bringing you back into reality. You two rush through the red hallways and after a minute or two you stop. Sam takes a deep breath and when he turns around to face you, his eyes widen in fear. You don't even have time to properly react before he pushes you to the cold ground. And when you look up, you make eye contact with Dean. His hammer sticking to the wall. It was hurled with such an immense force that it makes your jaw drop.
"Oh man, looks like I missed.", he says softly:" Can I try again?" There is a sincerity in his voice that makes your skin crawl. You nearly throw up. Meanwhile, Sam's knife is close to his throat. So close, it's almost making him bleed.
"Do it!", the oldest brother angrily hisses, his spit dripping down his chin. But Sam's arm just drops after a few seconds. You shut your eyes, not knowing what is about to happen next before you unexpectedly hear Castiel's voice.
"It's over!"
You sit on the floor next to the door, your back is leaning against one of the shelves while you observe how Sam pushes yet another needle into your oldest brother's forearm. A weird emptiness has been filling you up for a while now, and while you should be happy that Dean is back at the bunker… you can't help but feel drained.
"Are you okay, Y/N?", Castiel asks, and when you eventually tear your eyes off Dean's unconscious body you only nod.
Sam sighs:" He almost killed her." Castiel's eyes widen in shock, as his head snaps towards him. "He did what?"
You want to defend Dean, but before you can answer someone groans. Castiel notices how you quickly get up from your spot, and softly nudges you to stand behind him. His grip on his knife tightens to the point where his knuckles are white. Meanwhile, Sam was slowly opening up the bottle with the holy water.
Dean lifts his head and when you notice his black eyes you can't help but feel sick. You quickly turn around and throw up into the corner. Sam and Castiel exchange a quick but worried look. The blackness quickly fades and when his normal eyes scan the room he takes one final deep breath.
"You look worried, fellas.", he jokes, but no one laughs. You turn around at the sound of his voice, before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
Without waiting a second longer, you snatch the bottle out of Sam's hand and toss the liquid into Dean's face. A pleased sigh escapes your lips when you acknowledge that there is no smoke. "Welcome back, Dean!"
"How is he holding up?"
Sam, who is entering the room looks over at the angel. "Well, he is still a bit out of it, nevertheless, he is doing better." You look up from your book. "The whole thing really took a turn on him- he… he just feels really guilty." The last word leaves Castiels lips as a whisper as if he was hoping you wouldn't hear it. But you did.
A knock on the door catches Dean's attention and he shifts on his bed before sitting up straight:" Yeah?" He expected to see either his brother or Castiel, however when he makes eye contact with you his jaw clenches. "Hey.", you say and slowly walk into his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed. A soft but tired smile emerges on your lips and Dean mirrors it. "Hey."
"I just- I just wanted to check in with you.", you explain and your brother nods. A silence falls over the two of you and you clear your throat:" Remember- Remember when we were younger… you came back from a hunt and you were hurt and John was… god knows where. We didn't have anything in the fridge except for some eggs and cheese."
At that Dean laughs:" And you made me that god-awful omelet? Of course, how could I ever forget about that? My arm was broken and I had the worst stomach pains on top of that." Once again you both sit in silence before Dean runs a hand down his face:" I am so sorry, Y/N."
The sound of his voice breaks your heart and you move closer to him:" It's okay, Dee." He just chuckles dry. You know that he won't ever believe you.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester#dean winchester x sister reader#supernatural x sibling reader#spn#supernatural x reader#angst#x reader#supernatural x you#dean winchester x reader fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester x reader angst#demon dean
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Spirited Pursuit | Masterlist
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇♡◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Summary: Y/N's father recently committed suicide, leaving her the sole guardian of her little sister. Only: she is convinced that he was murdered. The local police don't take her seriously, but Sam and Dean Winchester, who are just taking a little pit-stop in town, believe her. The boys later discover that this is the work of a very angry spirit, and Y/N is the next target.
Early seasons (timeline uncertain)
Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Suicide, suicide attempts, usual SPN violence, abusive parents, grieving, reader smokes, smut, sad ending.
AO3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 coming soon...
Chapter 3 coming soon...
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THIS IS EVERYTHING
Supernatural (Taylor’s version)
Hello hunters and Swifties!
I love reading supernatural stories inspired by songs and I’m addicted to Taylor Swift, so I decided to recommend stories inspired by her songs.
If I find more stories I might think about doing a part 2 or an update.
1 - Speak Now: By @darling-i-read-it
“Based on the song speak now”
Info: One shot - 1100 Words
Warnings: “Hexing being a bad thing, weddings, Fluff.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Speak Now.
2 - Speak Now: By @bi-bard
“(Season 7, Episode 8) During a trip that was meant to be a vacation, (Y/n) and Dean are met with some very surprising new from Sam and an old face.”
The author didn’t say if it’s really inspired by taylor’s song, I just deduced that it was. If I’m wrong, I’m sorry.
Info: One shot - 1695 Words.
Warnings: “Drugging, threats of violence” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Speak Now.
3 - When I saw your face: By @seriesxwriting
The story of how enchanted it was to meet Sam Winchester.
Info: One shot - 2069 Words.
Warnings: “Drinking, swearing?” - Warnings described by the creator.
Song: Enchanted.
4 - I Remember it All Too Well: By @bi-bard
“The story of the two hunters that lasted far longer than they should’ve. Each chapter shows that Sam and (Y/n) were either meant to last a lifetime or fall apart at the seams. (I used season 11 as a reference for ages)”
Info: One shot - 4905 Words.
Warnings: “Break-up, unhealthy relationship, arguing, cussing, I made Sam a terrible person and I’m not sorry about it.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: All too well (10 minute version).
5 - All You Had to do Was Stay: By @hellooo-tricksters
“When Sam jumped into the pit, you were devastated, you thought you would never get him back. Then he returns and he is not who he used to be, he is rude, aggressive and cheats on you. He goes, and after a year he returns at your door.”
Info: One shot - 2172 Words.
Warnings: “Swearing, a little angst and maybe a little fluff too.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: All you had to do was stay.
6 - How You Get the Girl: By @hellooo-tricksters
“ It has been 6 months since you’ve last seen Sam. And now he decides to show up? “
Info: One shot - 1627 Words.
Warnings: “Swearing, smut if you squint I think…” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: How You get the girl.
7 - Welcome to New York: By @d-s-winchester
An AU series, where each chapter is inspired by a song from the album 1989.
Info: Series - 13 Chapters.
Warnings: “Angst, drinking, language, smut sorta” (Most of the chapters have no warning.) Warnings described by the creator.
Songs: Welcome to New York, Blank space, Style, Out of the Woods, All You Had To Do Was Stay, Shake it off, I Wish You Would, Bad blood, Wildest Dreams, How You Get The Girl, This Love, I Know Places and Clean.
8 - Gorgeous: By @justagirlinafandomworld
“Sam Winchester ruined your life. And he might know it.”
Info: Drabble - 100 words.
Warnings: “Secondhand embarrassment probably. Maybe feel a little called out?” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Gorgeous.
9 - Paper rings: By @bi-bard
“(Season 12) After everything happened with the British Men of Letters and the return of Mary Winchester, Sam does a lot of thinking about his future. Specifically, his future with his partner.”
The author didn’t say if it’s really inspired by taylor’s song, I just deduced that it was. If I’m wrong, I’m sorry.
Info: Drabble - 983 Words.
Warnings: “Mentions of torture” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Paper rings.
10 - The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me: By @bi-bard
“(Season 7) Sam had been struggling since he had come back from the cage. As his condition worsens, (Y/n) tries everything to help him.”
Info: Drabble - 746 Words
Warnings: “hallucinations, past trauma” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Peace.
11 - Look at this idiotic fool that you made me: By @bi-bard
“(Y/n) finally puts their foot down with Sam. Sam trips over it.”
Info: Drabble - 787 Words
Warnings: “mentions of sex” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: illicit affairs
1 - Head First, Fearless: By @swiftlymoniquesblog
“ “But you’re just so cool, run your hands through your hair, absent mindedly makin’ me want you” from Fearless by Taylor Swift!”
Info: One shot - 2048 Words
Warnings: All the fluff! - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Fearless.
2 - Enchanted: By @d-s-winchester
“All I can say is I was, Enchanted to meet you”
Info: One shot - 1428 Words.
Warnings: “Language, fluff” - Warnings described by the creator.
Song: Enchanted.
3 - Speak now: By @d-s-winchester
“Speak now or forever hold your peace”
Info: One shot - 1305 Words.
Warnings: “None.” - Warnings described by the creator.
Song: Speak Now.
4 - Red: By @d-s-winchester
“Missing him was dark gray, all alone”
Info: One shot -1048 Words
Warnings: “Sadness, heartbreak, death, dealing with death” - Warnings described by the creator.
Song: Red.
5 - All to well: By @the-winchester-pie
Info: One shot - 2071 Words
Warnings: Angst?
Song: All too well.
6 - I’d Say I Love You Even at Your Darkest: By @bi-bard
“Doubt and guilt creeps in and convinces Dean to run for the hills. (Y/n) refuses to let Dean believe that they would ever be happier without him.”
Info: One shot - 1838 Words.
Warnings: “Self-doubt, arguing, cussing” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Forever winter.
7 - Style: By @hellooo-tricksters
“Dean and the reader are in a no strings attached relationship since they met on a hunt. It passionate, steamy and complicated, but they keep returning on the same path, not matter which road they take.”
Info: One shot - 1869 Words.
Warnings: “Slight smut, mainly mentioning of it, maybe swearing, cheating?” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Style.
8 - Dorothea: By @imaginestuffs
“Dean “doesn’t like” your music, or so he says.”
Info: Drabble - 913 Words.
Warnings: “ A few curse words I believe, and fluff!!” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Dorothea.
9 - Bloodmoonlit: By @moonlightspencie
“ Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).”
Info: One shot - 5400 Words.
Warnings: “Drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Glitch.
1 - I’ll Let You In: By @bi-bard
“(Season 7 + 9) After gaining his memory back, Castiel has to leave to go help the Winchesters. (Y/n) promises to leave the door open to him. They weren’t expecting him to actually come back.”
Info: One shot - 2490 Words.
Warnings: “Mentions of death” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: That’s When.
2 - Shake it off: By @kaz2y5-imagines
Dean and Sam find you and Castiel dancing “Shake it off” in the bunker.
Info: One shot - 1696 Words.
Warnings: None?
Song: Shake it off.
3 - Bad blood: By @hellooo-tricksters
“Castiel finds the reader after they broke up 3 months ago. It was ugly, hard and painful, but now, now she works for Crowley. She’s a demon and she’s got all the right ways to show him what he did to her. He’ll pay.”
Info: One shot - 1439 Words.
Warnings: “Swearing, torture…slightly… Demon!Reader” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Bad blood.
4 - My lover: By @swiftlymoniquesblog
Info: Drabble - 574 Words.
Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of relationship doubts
Song: Lover.
5 - I’m setting off, but not without my muse: By @bi-bard
“ Monsters are known for terrifying people. Some monsters even scare themselves.”
Info: One shot - 1575 Words.
Warnings: “Character death, angst, suicide (seriously, read with caution)” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: The lakes.
6 - And if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were talking to me now: By @bi-bard
“ (Y/n) had grown up with the Winchesters, but Castiel was the one who really took on a father role over the years. (Y/n) has to cope with losing him and having someone else claim to be his kid.”
Info: Drabble - 866 words
Warnings: “Mentions of death, grieving, Child!Reader” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.
Song: Marjorie.
7 - Safe and sound: By @d-s-winchester
Info: One shot - 1231 Words.
Warnings: None - Warnings described by the creator.
Song: Safe and sound.
If you guys know of more supernatural stories inspired by taylow swift songs, let me know as I might put them in part 2/update.
Enjoy the stories!
To the writers: You are amazing!
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Shame?🥺 hope you’re doing ok, love.
hiiiiiiiiiiii!!! babes, i was just really busy with university (but its really sweet for you to ask)
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