aᝰ.ᐟ

multifandom author!!

[as-sweet-as-a]

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; ⋆˚꩜｡ i'm a!! she / her 8teen buddie truther stardew connoisseur anti hurt/no comfort (lie) cherries aaron hotchners wife

bits n bobs;

masterlist

request status: open!!

recent work: calm down - h.c. working on: requests!!

[as-sweet-as-a]

i hear a lot about jo but not enough about her mother.

she is so beautiful oh my god i want her.... where are all the ellen writers then.

[as-sweet-as-a]

touch - s.w.

summary; sam is upset and touch starved. thats it, really. warnings; dean has his own warning here

The brothers had been arguing. They argued a lot but recently they’d been arguing a lot. As a third person party, it was frustrating for you as well as heart breaking. Due to Castiel’s passiveness, you were usually in charge of splitting things up before they got physical. Sure, the pair had scowls and glares when facing each other, but you were the one who saw how Sam looked when he finally walked away.

The way his eyes looked down and his bottom lip quivered while his face was the picture of dejection tugged your heart strings every time.

Tonight was no different. Tensions were high enough already from a hunt gone wrong. Baby, with her perfect timing, broke down about a mile out from the motel. In a thunderstorm. Perfect. You and Castiel shared a look in the back seat, knowing the brothers would end up fighting any second.

And they did.

Sam said the best thing to do would be to push the car into a lay-by and walk back to the motel, using a phone there to call roadside assistance. Dean, of course, disagreed. For the first half, he tried to keep starting the car, determined while Sam made comments about how it wouldn’t work. Then, Dean decided that they should push the car all the way back to the motel. You knew it was a dull idea, but you also knew better than to get involved.

Eventually, Dean gave in, kicking and screaming, of course. He wasn’t happy about it, making a point to cross the road to walk on the opposite side from the rest of you. He knew Sam was right, he just didn’t like that it meant he was wrong.

Hurtful comments had been made, as always. You could tell Sam was trying his best to keep it together. About 20 minutes later, you made it back. Castiel gave Sam an apologetic look as Dean slammed the door to their room. You wanted nothing more to shower, dry off, and leave your clothes by the heater.

In your room, Sam sat at the foot of the bed with his head in his hands. Any other situation, you would’ve made a comment about how his ass was still wet. You plugged the shitty like space heater in and walked over to him.

“Hey…” You called softly, gently removing his hands from his face. Eventually, he looked up at you. He was so defeated it made your heart shatter. “Come here…” You mumbled, a hand on the back of his head guiding him to rest against your stomach.

He went willingly, arms wrapping around your waist. He was shaking with the effort not to cry. “It’s not about the car.” Sam muttered. He knew you knew how hard he was trying to keep himself together.

“I know.” You responded, fingers stroking his hair.

“He’s so stubborn.”

“I know.”

“I just want what’s best for him.”

“I know.”

It went on like that for a while. Sam got everything off his chest while you responded in hums and nods and small comments to show that he actually did have someone willing to listen. After a while, a small shiver went through your body, forgetting about the wet clothes stuck to you.

“We should shower.” Sam mumbled, although he didn’t loosen his hold.

You smiled softly. “Come on then, I’ll wash your hair.” You took a small step back and Sam stood up.

“Can.. Can I have a hug?” He asked, clearly feeling a bit embarrassed. You were a simple being. If a man with the eyes and hair of a sad, wet border collie asked for a hug, you gave him one. Luckily, this human embodiment happened to be your severely touched starved boyfriend.

“Of course… You don’t have to ask.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching up a bit. His whole body practically engulfed you as his arms came around your back and his face nuzzled into your neck. He melted against you and you couldn’t be happier.

Once you finally pulled back, you put a hand on his cheek which he easily relaxed into, turning his head to kiss your palm.

Then there was a loud, angry, pounding knock on the door.

“Sam?” You mumbled, not daring to glance at the door.

“Hm?”

“We forgot to call roadside assistance.”

"I'm sure Dean can wait a bit longer."

[as-sweet-as-a]

hi req!

maybe a angsty-to-fluff something with hughie campbell? reader get hurt on a mission and hughie loses his shittt. like he is so angry with himself for bringing you along and letting you get hurt, and while you’re getting patched up everything works out?

calm down - h.c.

hiii ty for the request, hope you like it!!

summary; you get hurt on a mission, hughie feels awful (but it was kind of billy's fault) warnings; pretty bad injury to readers arm, but not described graphically, mentions of amputation words; 1k

The mission had gone south, and quick. It was meant to just be a quick in and out of a C-listers apartment. However, no one expected her to be there. It was all a flash. All you knew was that you were in pain. A lot of it. Billy had dragged you out of the building, at some point tossing you over his shoulder. He mumbled to himself about how ‘Hughie’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.’

You don’t remember much in the van, only a lot of yelling.

“Calm down, Hughie.” You identified the gruff voice as Billy.

“Calm— Calm down?! What if she hit an artery? I- I can’t—” Hughie stumbled over his sentence. Frustration and upset poured into his words making his speech almost incoherent, as it always did.

You tried to speak. To tell them to shut the hell up, that they were giving you a headache. Instead, only a grunt left your lips, informing them of your consciousness. Warm hands held your face while your eyes fought to focus on the mop of brown curls. He was talking to you. You had zero clue what he was saying, but it sounded nice, soft. You tried to lift your arm to hold his hand against your face.

Your arm was quickly pinned back down to the floor of the van by Billy. “Well don’t fuckin’ move the thing.” He scoffed.

Not long after that, you passed out. You woke up later in a bed being tended to by MM and Frenchie. Your arm hurt. You winced and both heads shot to look at you.

“Hey… was worried for a second that you wouldn’t make it.” MM mumbled softly.

“My arm?” Was all you could muster in response despite having like, a million questions.

“Talon got you good, I’m afraid.” Frenchie explained, setting down a glass of water near you.

“Hughie?” You asked.

MM and Frenchie shared a look. Then you heard the yelling.

“I brought her with us, Billy! I’m responsible.” Hughie argued. He was practically in hysterics.

“She’s a grown woman, Hughie. She made a choice.”

“And, what? That’s supposed to make me feel better?” Hughie spat. He was blaming himself, like he always did. How could he not? He was the one who told you about Talon, he was the one who asked you to come. He seemed to forget the minor detail that you were the one who agreed to go.

“Listen, calm down—”

“Will you stop saying that? How can I calm down?! Last time I saw my girlfriend, she was bleeding out in the back of a van! What— What if she doesn’t make it? What if MM and Frenchie have to amputate her arm with some rusty fucking hacksaw?!”

Alarmed by this point, you shot looks to MM and Frenchie. Frenchie looked at your arm and shrugged. An ‘eh, maybe’ gesture. MM reassured you with a shake of his head.

“They came out here 5 bloody minutes ago saying she was fine. She’s just out cold.”

MM and Frenchie left the room, leaving you on your own and confused.

“She’s okay, Hughie. Just gotta patch her arm up again.” MM explained, ever the diffuser.

“Let me do it.” Hughie pled, his answer quick. “Please, I need to see her.”

MM looked at Frenchie and sighed before nodding. “Yeah.. yeah, go ahead.”

A few moment’s later, Hughie entered your room. In a weak attempt to hide his emotions, he offered you a weary smile. “Hey… how long have you been awake?” He reached for your face, falling short and changing route to the bandages.

You swallowed your concerns and offered an equally weary smile back. “Long enough to be terrified of Frenchie taking my arm off with a rusty hacksaw.”

He huffed a weak laugh. Slowly, he peeled the now bloodied bandages from your arm. He swallowed, fighting the urge to cringe.

“Does it hurt?” He asked. “Sorry… dumb question.” His hands shook as he unravelled the clean bandages.

His awkwardness gained a sympathetic smile from you. “I’m okay.” You responded, understanding what he was really trying to ask.

“I’m sorry.” He said, avoiding your eyes. As if you’d be mad or upset with him.

“Don’t.” You shook your head. “It’s not your fault.” You winced softly as he wrapped your arm up. Of course, he mumbled another apology in reaction.

“I shouldn’t have made you go, shouldn’t have brought you.” He touched you like he was afraid to, like his fingers would reopen your wound, no matter how gentle he was.

“You didn’t make me go anywhere. You asked and I agreed. I went on my own accord, Hughie. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Butcher is right.” You hated how he touched you so fleetingly. He went to pull away when he put the bandages down, but your good hand reached for his wrist, stopping him.

“Well… I should’ve at least gone in with you. I should’ve been there to keep you safe.” He looked for ways to blame himself anywhere he could. This had to be his fault.

“You only asked me to come on this mission because you thought it was safe. You’re acting like you’d ever intentionally put me in danger.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed, defeated. Hughie rubbed his face with the hand you weren’t holding.

“I’ll get you some water.” He said, ignoring the perfectly fine glass left by Frenchie. “And something to eat. I can go out too, get you some painkillers.” He was worried. He felt so guilty he felt like he had to avoid you.

“No.” You stated, softly pulling him closer. “I have water, I’m not hungry, and painkillers can wait. Right now, I just want my boyfriend.”

He nodded understandingly, sometimes ordering worked better than asking.

“Maybe a warm compress too, my head is killing me.” You sighed.

Hughie cracked a small smile at that, already making you feel miles better. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. Once he was done, you tilted your head up and he gave you an actual kiss, sighing into it as if the weight of the world just fell off his shoulders.

“Don’t go anywhere.” He smiled as he reached for the door handle.

You laughed softly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[as-sweet-as-a]

smut writers are so strong because how do u write that shit and not want to choke yourself

[as-sweet-as-a]

hello! (i’m new to tumblr so idk rlly how to use this but) i was just curious if you write smut?

hii, i don't write smut but i have a list here about what i do and don't do !!

[as-sweet-as-a]

I’m a simple woman:

I hear “the boys requests”

I say “homelander x reader where he’s just so whiny and desperate in bed after a long day of being him and dealing with everyone’s shit”

im not sure if this is a smut request but i dont write smut but thats on me for not including my request rules in the post 🙏 sorry!!

[as-sweet-as-a]

pls 🙏🏽🙏🏽 idc what it is but can you write an x reader fic for hughie. preferably with fem!reader but idrc. thank you 🙏🏽 🙏🏽

weariness - h.c.

summary; hughie shows up to your apartment after a mission. as always, you welcome him with open arms and help him put himself back together warnings; blood, mentions of stockholm syndrome (not used seriously), whatever happened on the mission is a bit blurry but unimportant so i dont gaf words: 997

i hope this is to ur liking, i kind of loathe this but im trying to give myself the benefit of the doubt since this is my first time writing for hughie…

something about the exhaustion whump trope gets me every time...

Another mission ended with Hughie covered in someone else’s blood—his least favourite part of working with The Boys, not that he had a favourite to begin with, except for meeting you, of course. Billy brought you into the base a couple of months ago, pulling you along with him. You kept arguing with him while he attempted to interrogate you about some supe called ‘Blindspot’. Hughie was mortified, to say the least, when he walked in to find Billy questioning a person who was most definitely not the person from the security footage they watched. Hughie had apologised profusely as he walked you out of the base. He looked down at your t-shirt with a singer he knew and complimented it. Noticing the large brown stain on it, he asked about it. You told him how Billy had managed to get you while you were coming out of the coffee shop across the street, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. Hughie offered to buy you another drink to replace it, romantic implication was the last thing on his mind. That’s how it all started.

It took 3 months of dating to convince Hughie that you didn’t have Stockholm syndrome and you were hardly even kidnapped. While you were scared at the time, you came to learn that Billy Butcher is just a massive prick.

Anyway, back to the crime that Hughie actually had committed. He didn’t really understand his teammates. How did they so easily walk away from a crime scene that they caused? After all this time, Hughie wasn’t used to it. He didn’t think he ever would be. Frenchie, MM, and Billy had all assumed he’d start adapting by now. But that’s because they didn’t see him the way you did.

Once he removed the worst of the blood, his feet led him to your apartment without prompting. A shaky hand knocked on the door. You checked the peephole, as he had begged you to always do, just in case. Once the door opened, you dragged him inside.

“Hughie!” You scolded. “Did any of my neighbours see you? You can’t just show up covered in blood!”

Your argument was stern, but as soon as he looked at you with his eyebrows knit together and his eyes that seemed a little too wet at the waterline, you crumbled. If that made you weak, so be it. Was it really a crime to be weak for your pathetic boyfriend?

Your tone softened, and you cupped his face, his hands instantly gripped your wrists, a silent plea for you to stay. His eyes closed, and he leaned into your touch. “Oh, Hughie… let’s get you in the shower, yeah?”

“You’ll stay with me?” He asked, almost a whine in his tone. Even if you wanted to — which you most definitely did not — how could you say no? You nodded and led him to the bathroom. While waiting for the shower to warm up, you sat him on the closed toilet seat and gently dabbed a warm cloth over his beaten lip. He winced softly. You silenced him with a soft kiss to the other corner of his lips.

Once you were both in the shower, Hughie clung to you. His arms wrapped around your waist, and his forehead rested on your shoulder. Despite the awkward angles, you did your best to gently scrub away any reminders of his mission. After a while, you set the soap aside and just held him; you could tell he needed nothing more.

“Bad day?” You asked softly. You could feel the weariness in his bones. It was like he had been gone for days, and not a little less than 12 hours.

Hughie nodded. “He had a family…” he choked out, on the verge of tears. You continued to rub his back, confused but comforting. “The guy we, uh, got rid of… on his desk, there was a picture of his family. There was a baby, Jesus… couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old…”

You nodded and exhaled, holding him tighter. Hughie loved that about you. There was no bullshit. You wouldn’t lie and tell him it was okay. It wasn’t, and you both knew it. It was fucked, all of it. Vought, The Boys, supes. All of it was messed up. But, instead of telling him that it was all fine, you just held him. It was what he needed more than anything.

He wordlessly washed your hair, doing tasks for you helped him. Just short of your skin pruning, you left the shower, wrapping yourselves up in towels. Back in the bedroom, you helped Hughie dry off and change into something more comfortable and less bloody. Once you were situated in bed, Hughie easily levitated closer to you, as if he couldn’t be away from you for more than two seconds. You put an arm around him while he buried his face in your neck with a content sigh. You could feel the last remnants of the stress and tension in his bones ebbing away as he relaxed.

“We could watch one of those documentaries you’ve been on about. What about the one about the Beatles guy?” You asked, tone soft. Your fingers gently carded through his slightly damp curls. He leaned into the action.

“Mhm, yeah.” He nodded. The documentary ran for about 20 minutes before Hughie was falling asleep in your arms. You smiled down at him and pulled the comforter further up over the two of you. Pressing a kiss to his temple, you rested your chin on top of his head and drifted off.

Maybe the job wasn’t that awful. Now he gets to come home to you. You were like a reset button. No matter how exhausted or blood soaked or panicked he showed up at your apartment, you’d always be the one to hold him, reassure him he’s not the awful person he sees in his head.

[as-sweet-as-a]

got really into the boys recently PLS send requests

[as-sweet-as-a]

just found out gabriel is only in 11 episodes of spn. im in anguish. idk if ill recover from this one.

[as-sweet-as-a]

can't rid myself of jealously - d.w.

summary; dean tried to make you jealous cos he thinks its hot, but it doesn't exactly go to plan warnings; drinking, kind of insecure!reader words; 940

It was late. Too late. You were tired and just wanted to crash back at the motel. But, since the job had been a success, Dean insisted you all went to the bar. So, here you were. Sam was nursing a singular beer, complaining about how he should be back in the room. Castiel was stood awkwardly by the bar. Dean, of course, had already had two beers, trying to get everyone more awake.

“Look, see, they’re having fun.” Dean grinned and nodded at a group of girls that were hanging around by the jukebox. You rolled your eyes and sipped your drink.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you mumble. After you’d finished your business and splashed cold water on your face, you left. However, when you went to rejoin the group, you only saw Sam and Cas. Dean was gone. You looked around and your eyes landed on the girls by the jukebox. One of them transferred their bright pink cowboy hat to his head, making him chuckle. He caught your eye and winked at you. You felt your stomach boil.

“You’re discontent.” You jumped, not realising Castiel had appeared next to you.

“Uhm, I guess.” You shrugged and took your drink back off of him, sipping it. “It’s Dean. He’s trying to make me jealous?”

Castiel tilted his head and shot you his confused puppy look. “Hm? But you’re not jealous.”

You nodded. “Mhm…”

Sam approached you and Castiel, glancing at Dean and rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, I’m about to head back. Dean said we’re good to take the car, something about not thinking he’d even be able to drive back later.”

You nodded and left the bar with Sam and Castiel, Sam placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You loved Dean, of course you did. His old habits? Not so much. Usually, you’d laugh it off. Or, if you were in a more confident mood, you’d go over and show yourself off to whoever Dean was flirting with while Dean grinned and wrapped an arm around your waist proudly.

He returned an hour or so later. You could tell because of the hushed voices of Sam and Dean in the hall. The lights were off in your motel room. You were under the sheets, swallowed by one of Dean’s hoodies and a pair of sleep shorts. Your eyes were fixed on some trash TV show about fishing.

The door creaked open and you heard Dean kick off his boots. He slid into the bed behind you. You could smell the beer on his breath and the sickeningly sweet perfume the girls were slathered in. You could also practically hear his grin. His arm fell over your waist as he began to pepper your neck in kisses. You shrugged him off, unamused.

Dean let out a low laugh. “Woah, hey. What’s this about, hm?” He joked, assuming you were playing hard to get or just messing around.

“Headache.” You mumbled.

He huffed a laugh. “Oh, really?” He leaned back in to kiss your jaw. You shrugged him off again. His eyebrows furrowed this time. “Sweetheart? What’s going on?” His hand began to softly run up and down your side and his tone turned gentler.

You stayed silent, curling up more.

“This is about those girls, isn’t it?” He asked. He took your silence as confirmation. “You know I only want you, right?” He nudged his nose against your shoulder.

“Mhm…” You couldn’t really help feeling insecure because of the bar. You were in dire need of a shower after runnng through the woods all day, your hair was dishevelled, eyes tired, and clothes dirty. Those girl were put together, nice dresses, well-groomed, pretty. Dean liked pretty. And right now, you didn’t feel pretty.

Dean sighed, mumbling your name softly with a sigh. He gently turned you onto your back, still rubbing your side. You didn’t realise you were about to cry until Dean was brushing your waterline with his thumb. “Talk to me.” He urged gently.

You sighed, unable to hide anything from the man you loved. “Dunno… just those girls from the bar.” You were almost whispering, hating how small you sounded.

“It’s never bothered you before. Besides, I think it’s hot as hell when you come over and show yourself all off and shit.”

You gave a weak amused smile at that. It was quick to fall. “It was different this time. I think I’m just tired from the hunt nd those girls were like… crazy pretty. I guess I was just feeling a bit off.”

Dean looked almost offended. “Pretty? Baby, they’re gremlins compared to you.” He explained. You shot him a ‘watch it’ look. “Okay, sorry, not gremlins, feminism and all. But, what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for you. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me, okay?”

Despite feeling more convinced, you couldn’t help but tease. “But you have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.” You grinned.

“Hm, well, could those girls kill a wendigo in 2 minutes and 57 seconds?” He teased right back, leaning further above you, almost on top of you.

You rolled your eyes playfully and chuckled. “Probably not…”

“Damn right.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you. You kissed back, of course,

The kiss got deeper until Dean was over you, trailing his lips down your jaw and neck. You noticed that he seemed distracted. “Dean, you okay?”

He paused lifting his head. You noticed that his eyes were fixed on the TV, squinting slightly. “That fish is fucking massive…”

[as-sweet-as-a]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ masterlist ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

fluff: ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ angst: ꩜ suggestive: ❦

9-1-1: evan buckley in one piece ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

criminal minds: spencer reid wait until breakfast ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ❦ strawberry laces ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ (req) ramblin' man ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

supernatural: castiel snow angel ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

dean winchester can't rid myself of jealousy ꒰ঌ ໒꒱꩜

the boys: hughie campbell weariness ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ꩜ (req) calm down ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ꩜ (req)

[as-sweet-as-a]

ramblin' man - s.r.

summary; short one about how spencer loves rambling. of course, you love listening. but sometimes he rambles so much he forgets to pick up on cues. words; 320

You love Spencer rambling. How could you not? The way his eyes light up, the way he moves his hands excessively. What’s not to love? A while back, he would apologise for talking too much and chuckling awkwardly while fixing his glasses. As much as you loved his team, you couldn’t help but get frustrated whenever you thought about how often they shut him down. So often, in fact, that he thought you’d get annoyed with him if he spoke too much. Luckily, after a lot of reassurance, this was no longer a problem.

For instance, right now, you were laying on your bed, Spencer practically laying on top of you. He was talking rapidly about something to do with the effect of cognitive development on unsubs. It was interesting, kind of. You just liked hearing him talk.

However, you were distracted. Just something about how gorgeous he looked right now. You couldn’t help leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then his temple, then the bridge of his glasses. Throughout all of this, he kept talking, not missing a single word.

Then you got bold and moved to his lips, pressing small pecks there. He would pause momentarily to close his mouth and let you land your kiss, like a gentleman, then he’d go straight back to the point he was making.

“Spence?” You called, unable to fight the smile off your face. He paused and looked at you. On the tip of his tongue was an unsure ‘Am I talking too much?’ but you quickly shut that down. “You know I love hearing you talk right?” He nodded. “Good. But, right now, I just really want to kiss you.”

He chuckled and adjusted his glasses, but not in the nervous coy way like he used to before. This time he smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

That was all you needed before you leaned in.

[as-sweet-as-a]

snow angel - c.

summary; castiel sees snow for the first time!! contents; no use of y/n, snowball fights, fluff!!, baby (the car) faces a minor injury, implied winchester!reader words; 821

You were 50 pages into a lore book with no new leads for the job you were working. ‘The little heater that could’ was emitting more noise than heat, struggling to make the motel room any warmer. You were freezing despite layering one of Sam’s hand-me-down hoodies over your sweater. It was Castiel’s shuffling that caused you to break eye contact from the book. Looking up, you saw Castiel standing ominously by the window, nothing out of the ordinary. But, your curiosity was piqued when he moved towards the door of the motel room and leaving.

Confused, you pulled your coat on along with your gloves. You grabbed a scarf and ran outside after him. Castiel was stood with an unsure and confused look on his face, staring at the snow covered car park. You took your scarf and wrapped it around him. Angels didn’t exactly feel the cold, but it was the thought that counted. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his shoulder, clinging to the walking space heater.

“You like the snow?” You asked. Castiel had become so used to you putting you arms around him that he didn’t even snap out of his trance until you spoke up.

“Snow? That’s what it is?” He asked, glancing at you before looking back to the white powdery substance on the ground.

“We can go out in it, if you’d like.” You suggested. Your eyes were desperate for a break anyway.

Castiel nodded, taking some unsure steps into the snow. You followed behind, letting your arms drop from his waist. It was midday and there were hardly any cars in the parking lot.

While Castiel was distracted, you slipped away. A few moments later, there was a THUD on the back of his trench coat. It wasn’t exactly painful. Just shocking. Castiel whipped around, trying to look at his coat. His head snapped to you when he heard you laughing.

“Did you just… throw a clump of snow at me?” He asked, blatantly confused.

You calmed down your laughter and shook your head. “It’s called a snowball. I’m sorry.”

Castiel paused for a moment before leaning down and collecting snow in his hands, packing it into a ball.

You were mildly shocked. “Cas… Remember how much you love me.” You warned with a nervous chuckle.

“What’s that saying? All is fair in love and war?” He grinned before hurling the snowball at you. You squealed and covered your face with your arms right as the snowball landed.

The snowball fight lasted a while longer. That was until he threw one at you, and you ducked. Instead of hitting you, the hard snowball landed right on Baby’s bonnet, making the car alarm go off. You jumped and ran over to Castiel, laughing loudly.

“Wasn’t us,” you said.

Castiel studied your reddening nose and cheeks with a confused look. “It wasn’t?”

You just rolled your eyes and laughed in response. You took Castiel’s hand and dragged him away back into the motel room.

“Can you turn the heater up? It’s freezing…” You were already shivering. You quickly took off your cold and wet coat. Castiel took it from you and hung it up on the back of a chair near the heater. While he tampered with the object, you changed into something more comfortable. Ignoring the research you still needed to finish, you slipped into bed with a happy sigh. Cas sat down next to you after a while, sitting up against the headboard. His arm came around you and you moved as close as possible to him, soaking up his warmth. “You’re like a human heater.. Angel heater?”

He laughed softly, cut short by the knock on the door. From the window, you could see a very angry looking Dean at the door. Begrudgingly, you got up and opened the door.

“What the hell did you do to Baby?” He almost spat, pointing towards his car.

Feigning confusion, you responded. “What?”

“The alarm was going off, I know it was you.”

“Dean… I’ve been sleeping for the last hour. I don’t know what happened to your car.” You argued.

“Fine. Then it was Castiel. There’s snow all over her!” Dean said. You glanced to a worried and confused Castiel, shooting him a wink.

“Yes, Dean. I’m sure Castiel was playing in the snow. All on his own.” You stated sarcastically, adding an eyeroll for effect.

Dean fell silent for a moment, still angry. “Fine.” He huffed. “I’m gonna be so pissed if I find out you’re bullshitting me.”

“I’d never.” You deadpanned.

He glared at you before speaking. “Me and Sam are going out for food. You want anything?”

“Mhm. Literally anything.” You sighed, starving.

“Alright, we won’t be gone long, make sure the angel stays away from yellow snow.”

You nodded and shut the door, turning back to Castiel who looked very perplexed.

“Yellow… snow?”

[as-sweet-as-a]

in one piece - e.b.

summary; nothing much to it, buck comes home late and accidentally wakes you, just some light fluff :]] contents; no use of y/n, fluff, cuddling, mentions of maddie words; 424

a/n; yes the quality of the first pic is butt. i don't want to talk about it.

Buck cringed as the apartment door opened with a loud creek. He was already late enough. The call lasted a lot longer than anyone thought it would. Buck dumped his bag at the door with a heavy sigh before kicking his shoes off and attempting to tiptoe up the loft stairs to get to his bed. He might’ve still been a bit gross from his brief shower at the firehouse, but he was too exhausted to care. He knew you would be too. His tense expression softened when he saw you laying in bed. The comforter brought up tight around you and your hair a mess on the pillow. Buck smiled and leaned down to kiss your temple before moving away to change.

You woke up and stirred slightly. “Buck?” You mumbled sleepily, eyes barely open for more than a few seconds before closing again.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Buck said. He couldn’t help but grin at your state. He switched on the dim lamp before undressing and swapping his bulky cargos for some lighter sweatpants.

“You’re home…” You smiled up at him. It was more of a half smile, due to your exhaustion. “And in one piece.”

Buck’s smile grew at your comment. He lifted the comforter to reveal that you were wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. He slid in next to you and put his palm on your cheek as his fingers rested in your hair. “Mhm, it’s a nice bonus, huh?” He mumbled before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips. “What’d you get up to today?”

You and Maddie finally had the same day off, so you’d decided to spend the whole day together. “We went for coffee, then did some window shopping.” You explained sleepily, drawn to Buck’s chest.

He held you close, burying his face in your hair. His stress dissipated. “Yeah? No actual shopping?”

You shook your head. “Nope.. Done way too much retail therapy this month. How was your day?” You asked, already drifting slightly.

“God… Where do I even begin? It was quiet until about 1, that’s when things started to get hectic. We had a call about some woman who—” Buck noticed that you were practically sleeping against him and huffed out a laugh. He rubbed your back and reached behind him to turn off the lamp. “I’ll tell you in the morning.” He muttered into your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head and closing his eyes.

[as-sweet-as-a]

hey, just letting you know that Spencer's Mom is Diana and Diane is the girl that killed Maeve

omfg 😭😭 my dumbass googled it too... but tysm for pointing it out!!

[as-sweet-as-a]

Heyyyy I absolutely love love LOVE your work and I saw this thing that @mandarinmoons posted and it said “Spencer Reid is the type of person to bend down and tie your shoelaces and then give you a kiss on the knee once he’s done.” I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something like that

AHHH omg!! tysm!! i hope this meets expectations :]] (also stalked checked out the account you mentioned and fell in love)

strawberry laces - s.r.

summary; you're meeting diana for the first time and literally could not be more nervous contents; reader is a nervous wreck, spencer is the best boyfriend ever, fluff words; 549

You had just finished fixing your hair, finally deciding how to style it after about 97 different options. Spencer drifted past. He paused behind you to put his hands on your shoulders.

“We’re going to be late.” He reminded softy. His hands gently rubbed your shoulders, trying to calm you down. You were meeting his mother for the first time today and Spencer couldn’t tell who was more nervous about it. But, he figured out a while ago that the best way to calm himself down was to help you calm down.

“I know, I’m sorry. Does my hair look alright?” You asked, fiddling with a few strands. Diana knew you existed. Spencer had told her nothing but good things about you. Yet, you were so worried you’d mess it up.

“It looks perfect.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, careful not to mess your hair up. When you first did your hair, Spencer made the mistake of saying it was ‘fine’. You’d been spiralling since.

You nodded and stood up. “And my outfit?” It was a casual meeting, Diana would be meeting them with her carer at a coffee shop. However, it was hard to judge ‘casual’ when your boyfriend wore cardigans, ties, and shirts everywhere he went.

“Mhm, really encapsulates the whole meeting my boyfriends diagnosed schizophrenic mom for the first time thing.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

“Spencer, I’m being serious.” You scolded.

He walked forward and wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him. Your arms came around his back, the sleeves of the cardigan you borrowed far too long. “I know, I’m sorry.” He rested his chin on your head. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks… I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” You mumbled into his chest.

He nodded and took one of your hands, bringing it over his quick heart. “I am too. But it’s going to be fine, I promise.”

You took a deep breath. You let yourself linger in Spencer’s loose embrace a moment longer before nodding. “Okay… yeah, I’m ready.” With your newfound confidence, you headed to the bedroom door.

“Shoes.” Spencer reminded.

You turned around and walked back to him. “Shoes.”

He was holding the pair of Converse you had laid out and got down on one knee, tapping his leg. You chuckled and put your foot on his thigh as he helped you into your shoe. Your laugh brought a smile to Spencer’s face. He tied the laces in a neat bow and pressed a kiss to your knee. He patted the side of your leg.

“Next one.” As instructed, you swapped which foot you were balancing on Spencer’s thigh. He gave it the same treatment, an even bow and a kiss on your knee. When you were back standing on both feet, Spencer rubbed your legs with his palms soothingly. “It’s going to be fine.” He repeated. You smiled down at him and cupped his face.

He stood up and gave you a quick kiss. “Now, come on. Before she starts wondering where we are.” He smiled and took your hand. You grabbed your bag and headed to the door again.

You glanced down at Spencer’s mismatched socks and grinned. “Shoes, Spence.”

He nodded and turned around. “Shoes.”