Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
almost home
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Mike Driver
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@clemeowntine
about me !
general
you can call me angel, clem, or clemeow! i’m 17, and i use she/her pronouns. i occasionally like to write and sometimes even draw :3
likes
cats, animals, supernatural, big sky, countdown, the boys, radio company
DNI !
racist, homophobic, transphobic, zionist, islamophobic, antisemitic, wincest/proshipper, generally problematic
requests
please read my rules before requesting anything!
please talk to me! i’m friendly + don’t bite :3
Soft Skin
pairings/characters: (established) sam x plus size!afab!you
summary: a night of comparing yourself to the beautiful women around you has lead your own self image to be severely tainted and sam just can't have that
warnings: intense description of hatred towards ones body, self-image issues, shame, internalized misogyny
word count: 2,537
A/N: this was a request!! i kinda poured my little heart into this one, might be a bit triggering for some who are struggling with body issues but i kinda based this one off of some personal experiences with my own shame in public along with my husbands kind words of encouragement afterwards. this ones for you, ares, tysm for requesting <3
———————
The roadhouse buzzes with rowdy conversation and questionable retellings of hunting stories that Dean bets half of are bullshit. Sam sat next to you with his arm spanned around the back of your chair with you leaning into his side. You held your beer bottle and Sam ran his finger absentmindedly around the rim of his Old Fashioned as you both listened to a particularly riveting story from Jo.
Jo goes on about the case she worked with the brothers where some crazy ghost doctor was kidnapping petite young blondes for whatever creepy reason and locking them away until they died from neglect.
It was a morbid story with a satisfying ending knowing that the creep is rotting by himself until the end of time, but you couldn’t ignore the subtle chips that certain details kicked off of your already iffy armor. Jo bragged about being tiny enough to squeeze past parts in between the walls that Dean couldn’t and she spoke casually about her size and its advantages.
You tried not to do this, you seriously did, but the nag growing from unintentional phrasings was already creating a crater of hollowing self-loathing. You look down at your bottle as it rests on your thigh, indenting into the plush skin that overflows from the allotted circumference of your shorts.
Shorts- you hated yourself for wearing shorts today around so many observant eyes. The hunters around you had to have an opinion or two about the nerve you must have to claim to be a hunter with such a physique. Wide hips accompanied with unproportionate dips on your sides only flattened your potential of at least having a smooth hourglass shape going for you, and your belly spills into the free space of your shorts that should be scrunched and not filled out. You maneuver your legs to cover what you could of your tummy and you set your beer back on the table, leaning forward to do so. As you lean back, you notice a man from the bar catch a glimpse of your exposed chest and when his gaze rolls away you feel the nag growing.
How fucked up is it that a stranger doesn’t ogle you just because of your size? And how fucked up is it that you care so much? God, you feel ridiculous. You shake away the unnecessary thoughts and try to focus back on the next person's story.
However, you find yourself trying to justify your clothing choices. It’s a hot summer's day bleeding into a humid night and you’re out having fun. The settled outfit, of shorts, a tank top, and a stolen flannel from Sam as a backup shield in case exactly this happened, is more than good enough for an event as such. Hell, you’re wearing what most women here are too but you still can’t get out of your own head.
Sam glances over in your direction with a questioning glance as you slip his flannel on to cover your foolishly confident display of skin but you just shrug him off with a simple ‘I’m cold’.
The next round, you order the same as Sam and hope the alcohol will bury your self-deprecating thoughts and let you actually enjoy yourself tonight.
It works for a while. Warm liquid settling in your gut and buzzing over your skin like an electric current, allowing you to speak up with the group- laughing and talking.
Unknowingly to you, Sam watches with adoration as you start to blab on about some hunt you and him worked last year involving a few shapeshifters and a circus. His smile of contentment warms his face and it only grows as you stumble over your words from laughter and intoxication. Towards the end of the story, you start to tell a part wrong and Sam speaks up, calling you out with an amused chuckle. You, unfortunately, are not drunk enough to not be embarrassed at the volume you realized you were telling that story at. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you tune out the rest of Sam’s contribution as your mind swims through the past 10 minutes and criticizes each thing it could think of.
You down the rest of your Old Fashioned and decline another round.
“Hey, love, I’m gonna grab us a few waters, okay?” Sam alerts gently before unwrapping from his hold around you and trotting over to the bar. You smile fondly to yourself at his commitment of being the most responsible one in the room even after downing his weight in alcohol.
It takes him longer than it should though so you turn back to find him speaking with a woman at the bar who seems way too observant of his chest and arms. She laughs at something Sam says and Sam doesn’t look away from watching the bartender mix up some drinks to look at her but you do. She’s glowing. Her laugh floats past your ears and she pushes back her long hair to expose a defined collarbone with a charmed necklace resting against the skin. Her arms are thin but defined and her torso is proportionate with her chest and hips. Her jeans scrunch up with unoccupied space as she sits somewhat slouched and her legs fold over each other with ease and fit perfectly under the tabletop of the bar.
Sam thanks the bartender as he retrieves his requested waters but the woman stops Sam with a hand to his bicep. Her lithe fingers are lined with simple rings and topped with slightly chipped ruby red polish and they settle perfectly over his arm.
It hurts. It hurts to see such a perfectly suitable woman for a man you’re in love with. Her pearly teeth flash him a suggestive smirk and when she looks up at him through her lashes her chin doesn’t squish into itself at all.
Sam looks apologetic but firm as he gestures to you and the woman follows Sam’s gaze, landing on you. You feel beet red as her perfect eyes rake your too-big form. She gasps and lets go of Sam’s arm, covering her mouth with slightly widened eyes. The two laugh it off and Sam makes his way back to you.
“Poor girl, hope I didn’t embarrass her,” Sam rubs the back of his neck bashfully. Your lips tick up in a complimentary scoff of a laugh as you take a sip of your water. “Hey, you okay?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, fine,” you say simply. Sam doesn’t believe you, but he assumes you’re just overwhelmed from the night.
“Drink your water and we’ll get out of here,” Sam squeezes your hand gently and lifts it up for a soft kiss along your knuckles. You just nod mutely and sip your icy water.
———
Back at the motel, you undress into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and slip a sweatshirt over your tank top that you don’t even bother to remove, which is your second mistake. Sam knows your skin hates unnecessary clothing, especially in the summer, and he can’t help but find it odd that you’re insisting on so many layers right before bed.
Your first mistake was closing the bathroom door to change.
Your third mistake was avoiding physical contact after entrance to the motel room. Sam is a handsy man, he loves to let his hands roam over your skin and to grab ahold of any flesh he gets a chance to. He loves to litter your shoulder in kisses and loves to feel you squirm under his touch with soft giggles from the tickle of his presence. He knows you love it too and your avoidance raises the final red flag that makes it one too many to count.
“What’s on your mind, honey?” He asks, resting his hands on your love handles and when you tense, he feels a tight knot in his throat.
“Just tired,” you mumble, staring down at the bed in front of you. You itched to escape his grip on your torso but you found it hard to shove him away.
“You can talk to me,” he insists as he dips down to press a few soft kisses along your jaw. “I know something is bothering you, love,” he pulls back enough to spin you around so he can look at you head on. You keep your gaze down but his strong fingers lure you up to look at him with a gentle nudge under your chin. His soft eyes watch you worriedly and you find it hard to continue tamping down the upcoming spew of issues with your own body image.
It’s stupid. It’s so dumb and vain for you to be so obsessed with your own looks. I mean, seriously, you’re a hunter who saves lives for a living. You-.
“I’m fine,” you blurt, trying to derail your own trail of thought. Sam is quiet as he remains hooked in front of you. He knows you’re bullshitting him and you know he knows it. Maybe you could wait him out.
Sam’s hand cups your cheek as he slithers his fingers into your hairline under your ear and his other rests in your hip, dangerously close to your stomach. Dangerously close to him feeling just how wide your stomach spans. But then again- you know he already knows what you look like, so what the fuck is your problem?
“I’m just so sick of my body,” you mumble, your eyes looking down at his chest, too scared to look him in the eyes.
“Why do you say that?” He asks, not to combat you or look for a reason to convince you otherwise, but to actually ask. You sigh heavily, dropping your head back and moving to cover your face. You feel ridiculous.
“Because, I’m not like those other hunters,” your explanation is muffled but Sam still listens. “That girl at the bar was so beautiful and you two actually looked like a couple,” you scoff, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “And Jo- she’s so slim and fit and I just wish I could be that helpful.” You feel sick. Your stomach is churning and your skin is buzzing with uncomfortable perceived heat. Sam is quiet for too long and you actually fear he’s considering your words.
“You don’t think you’re helpful?” He asks, dipping down to squat in front of you, hands resting on your clothed knees. Your eyes are still screwed shut but you can practically hear the shimmer in his eyes. “You don’t think we look like a couple?”
Your heart breaks. You shouldn’t have said that- that was too far. It was, like your outfit choice tonight, too revealing of how low you actually think of yourself. It peeled back the thick protective layer that you usually keep stuck tight but, thanks to the lubrication of alcohol, it has been ripped open and now forcefully shines your deepest darkest secrets too damn bright.
Before you can stammer out a response, Sam cuffs your wrists with his strong hands, gently guiding your limbs to your lap. He beckons your name to get you to open your eyes, followed with a simply hummed, “…my pretty girl,” his eyes look crossed as he stares up at you. “Don’t, even for a second, think that I would trade you for anything. No item, or weapon, or spell, or woman would I even consider looking at if it meant you were the price. Honey, you are strong,” his face hardens like he wouldn’t understand how you don’t believe him.
“Your hands are calloused with weapons cleaned and lives saved,” he runs his hands up your arms, “your arms are thick with muscle that help you fight against the creatures we hunt,” then over your shoulders, “your shoulders are wide with a strength to anchor- along with your back,” his fingers trace down your back and once he nears your waist, he traces them forwards, ignoring your tension.
“Your stomach is soft and comfortable,” an uncontained smile rips his lips, “the perfect pillow,” he adds with a slight squeeze and nose scrunch. You want to shove him off at the way he handles your tummy but you find yourself frozen. “You’re so damn strong, and you’ve got the body to show for it,” he leans in a bit closer so that he’s now between your knees, “Your body protects you and that’s all I want.”
“As for our physical compatibility?” His brows raise with a forced exhale, “you understand you are completely out of my league, right? Dean dogs me for it basically everyday,” that earns a soft chuckle from you. “I have to fight people away from you. Hell, earlier at the roadhouse there was some hermit who was staring at you from the moment he walked in and I had to stare him off,” Sam exasperates with a slight shake of his head as if he were already getting riled up again. You piece his story with the man you caught earlier. The man who darted from your gaze quicker than a frog from the presence of something bigger. Well, not your gaze you now reckon.
“I love you more than I thought I would ever love anything, and sometimes it doesn’t make sense,” he adds softly, like he believes you’re too good for him. Not possible. “But what certainly doesn’t make sense is beating yourself up so much for something so trivial as your size against women who aren’t you. You never have anything to prove or overcome in the sense of a silent competition with the women around you, and I’m so sorry you were conditioned to think so, but I need you to know that in my eyes you are perfect and I wouldn’t change one thing about you.”
You don’t realize your crying until his calloused fingers run along your cheek. You don’t know what to say to that- you don’t even think there’s anything you could ever say to that. So you just sit there with a wobbling lip and consistent sniffle.
He lunges up a bit slowly to place a firm kiss against your forehead and when he pulls away he’s looking down at you. You see his eyes flicker to your chest then back up to your eyes.
“You don’t even understand how much I think of you. The things I ache to do for you- the ways I can make you feel,” his towering form leads you on your back with magnetic force alone and no actual push. His hand braces his torso above you on the bed. “Please let me show you,” he begs with a pleading expression, completely contradicting his dominant tone from just the previous sentence. It’s a slight slip that melts into an eager act of need upon a nod of permission from you.
His hungry lips devor your own and his hands have a mind of their own as they dig under your layers and claim your skin.
All he wants is to fuck some sense into you. To be fair, based on his actions alone, you can at least believe he believes every word he’s said- even if you don’t. And that’s enough for tonight.
———————
thank you so much for reading!! <3
>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here
>tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere @bejeweledinterludes
10 people I'd like to get to know ✍️ thank you for the tag @officallyunstable
Last song: Headed North by Noah Kahan
Currently watching: Love Island, SPN again with friends (so proud of myself for getting them hooked), whatever anime I can get my hands on
Current obsessions: Video games
Currently reading: I swap between books A LOT since I can't focus on one, but right now it's The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Currently working on: A half-sister fic that was requested, but Sam and Dean don't know about her
Currently wearing: 1967 Ford Bronco car shirt and some sweatpants (i just woke up)
Last Google search: Baby Bratz movies (I was going down the rabbit hole of past childhood movies)
Flower: Hibiscus
Taglist: @samlou @amentiaewrites @ambiguous-avery @captonite @studiogrimm810 @winchesters-favorite-girl @redbird-tf @jasmines-library @marvelfanfn2187a113 @k-winchester
Aww, thanks so much for the tag, L! I love tag games to pieces! Also, Hibiscuses are my favorite flowers too!!
🎵 Last song: Twice by Arrows in Action (seeing them in October! I'm so excited!)
📺 Currently Watching: Supernatural (still working my way through it... very, very slowly), Criminal Minds, my 100th watch of Project Hail Mary
💜 Current Obsessions: Oh god, what am I not obsessed with? Always building my characters in Genshin, writing my dozens of WIPs that I still need to finish. I kinda go all out or not at all with my stuff. So I'm either fully obsessed or not interested in the slightest lol
📖 Currently Reading: I'm so far behind on my reading list. As far as traditionally published books, I'm not currently reading anything. But fanfic-wise? Uh... I'm gonna say @h0lym01y's headlock series. Eagerly waiting for the next chapter of it :D
📝Currently working on: Again... what am I not working on? I've got an office AU Sam-fic in the works, several short smut pieces that have been floating around in my head, but the thing that's currently open in the tab next to tumblr (the thing I should be working on instead of this lol) is my very first Spencer Reid piece. I'm broadening my horizons lol
👕 Currently Wearing: My homemade replica of S1 Sam's purple dog shirt and jeans. I had to be a person earlier than usual today which means I had to put on real people clothes
🌐 Last Google Search: Mac and Cheese powder bulk (thanks to @kblognar for reminding me that this is a thing)
🌸 Favorite Flower: Like I said up above, hibiscuses are my favorite flowers in the world :D
Ten people I'd like to get to know better (no pressure, of course!): @jollyhunter @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @h0lym01y @zepskies @bettystonewell @reginaphalangelobster @sweetbabygirlsworld @kblognar @chevroletdean @voodoochildthings
Oooh ty for the tag Avery!! I too adore tag games 💜
And I was listening to Twice the other day, tysm for the rec on that one, it's so good lol
Last song: What A Time - Julia Michaels & Niall Horan
Currently watching: Supernatural (slowly), Criminal Minds (on hiatus atm but hopefully back to it soon), The Vampire Diaries (same as previously lol), Chicago Fire (rewatching with my dad, surprisingly fun lol)
Current obsessions: Writing. I adore it lol, that's it atm but I love making graphics when I have the inspiration
Currently reading: We don't talk about that. I need to read more. Like desperately. I'm just sooo bad at it but I have a longer Clint Barton fic saved to my drafts to read soon, so hopefully I'll get to that next!
Currently working on: Far too many things. I'm somewhat coming back to my Destiel x reader series, still working on it but with some great tips, in getting better at dealing with series lol. And for fics, trying to finish random drafts, a bunch of requests and get a jumpstart on Kinktober
Currently wearing: Matching with you accidentally A, my Sam Winchester get up but I have the wrong jeans sadly, close enough though! Op shop flannels may not fit right but they're the coziest 💙
Last google search: Chicago Fire Chicago PD SVU crossover
Favourite flower: I do love a good Hibiscus, a fav is hard but I do like how dramatic black calla lilies are
Npt: @islaymonsters @casanddeanswife @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @froggibus @cantchooseafav @saltnburnbaby @l4racr0ft @iwantmyobitwrittenbyapoet @aegonslut @s0urw00lf
Also side note, you don't know how excited I got when you said what fic you're working on now Avery, I cannot wait to read it!!!
Awww, thank you for the tag, @reginaphalangelobster!! Tag games are so much fun!!! <3 Last Song: Vampires - Pet Shop Boys Currently Watching: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Last Season), The Vampire Diaries, Supernatural, and Adventure Time (My Fav). Current Obsession: Big Foot, Fresno Nightcrawler, My Loverrrr, Writing, stressing out, and you know... things. Currently Wearing: Valentines Pajama shorts, Hershey Park T-shirt, and a tired expression. Last Google Search: "Traumatic brain injury and ptsd" Favorite flower: Lavender and Water Lilies I'm going to add on to this to get to know everyone a bit more! Favorite food: General Tao's Chicken and Cosmic Brownies TV character that best describes you: Rosalie Cullen (Twilight), Melinda Sordino (Speak), Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer). Current Want: Peppermint Patties and rest Current Ick: Summer Humidity or walking on freshly mopped floors Tags: @windfall-prophet @piexperiment @liljojoslays27789 @mortluvr @jackalope-woman @kblognar @anjee0 @sainteangel @gremlingal222 @moiceclown @deanspistol @werepire05 @chainsawlamb @the-wind-around-the-willow @splashthebird @s0ullesslullab1es , anyone who wants to can do this too! <3
Hii K my love! Thank you for the tag @islaymonsters <3 sending hugs & kisses. We share buffy in common!!
Last Song
Hella Good - No Doubt
Currently Watching
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, The Rookie, Interview with the Vampire S3 (The Vampire Lestat)
Current Obsession
The Horror Bandwagon on YouTube, Dream a little dream of me by Anne Reburn, scrolling on Pinterest to find photos for mood board ideas, and Dean Winchester<3
Currently Wearing
Grey sweatpants, an old basic shirt, and a headache
Last Google Search
"Dean's weapon"
Favorite flower
fiddle roses, baby's breath, black dahlia, plumeria, chocolate cosmos & spider lily
Favorite food
honey garlic chicken, anything chicken really, stir fried noodles, Filipino spaghetti, Hawaiian pizza, salted caramel cheesecake, lemon meringue/apple crumble pie
TV character that best describes you
Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Fiona Gallagher (Shameless), Vi (Arcane), Nana Osaki (NANA), Buffy (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Elijah Mikaelson (The Originals/Vampire Diaries)
Current Want
A hearty chicken stew, motivation and energy to cook, a long makeout session, boba tea, sunning and a warm bath.
Current Ick
Dry heat, humidity, brain fog
Tags: @cannibalwomn @wvffles @trashmonstersara @thefourhorsies @hopelessbrain @gremlingal222 @saltcirclesigil @s0ullesslullab1es @cannibalwomn @maurisescapism & anyone who wants to! <3
⟢ thank you for the tag lovely !! @mortluvr 🩵🩵 "and a headache" made me giggle 😭 hope u feel better soon <3 🫂
last song; i don't like my mind by mitski
currently watching; youtube videos tbh
current obsession; the coffee drink I make myself at work (and naps)
currently wearing; a black shirt with calcifer from howl's moving castle on it that says "may all your bacon burn!", black sweatpants, and a black claw clip
last google search; "can you make brownies without eggs"
favorite flower; sunflowers 🌻
favorite food; potatoesss in literally so many forms. baked, mashed, sliced and seasoned, french fries, potato chips, potato wedges—love them all <333
tv character that best describes you; bonnie bennett (tvd)
current want; a cool cloudy and cozy day off work so I can get super faded and order from my favorite ramen place 😩 but also my coffee drink from work lmfao
current ick; this dumbass heat oh my goodness
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ no pressure tags; (sorry for any repeats) @zepskies @jollyhunter @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @b-eees-world @bettyboopd @aseafullofstars @rh1nestcned @jensensswthrt @ackles-pleaser @chevroletdean + anyone who'd like to join !! :]
ooooh this one is fun !! I feel like I dont do enough tag games on here lmao oopsies 🫠
last song : I think it was apocalypse by cigarettes after sex ? although I did technically listen to dreiton while I wrote today's fic (minecraft music is so so good for writing !!!)
currently watching : right this very second im watching nhl hockey lol. in general I am not watching much of anything (spn is taking ages to get through, i kinda wanna start criminal minds, and i am a slow watcher rip)
current obsession : the 2025 sorting game (i am determined to beat it)
currently wearing : uni hoodie and flannel pj pants. I feel very stanford sam esque. that dude totally wears pj pants during the day when he has no classes
last google search : "why are bagels higher in gluten than bread" (the answer is apparently because the flour used in bagels is higher in protein, that protein being gluten !!)
favourite flower : oh god I have so many. lily of the valley, fireweed, lilies, begonias, and lilac :]
favourite food : these bowls that areeeee sesame pork, rice noodles and a bunch of veggies !!! I think theyre originally vietnamese but we make them at home and I am not vietnamese so we're probably doing something wrong 🫠🫠
tv character that best describes you : honestly I dont know lmao. ive been told its spencer reid before, ive been told its sam winchester, ive been told the old man from gravity falls (i forgot his name but hes a vibe tbh). if I had to choose i would love for it to be spencer lmao
current want : generally ? my gi doctor appointment to happen sooner so i can get answers lol. specifically ? teriyaki chicken bowl from this japanese place near my house
current ick : bagels (rip i like them but currently they make me feel awful) and my neighbour lol
no pressure tagging : @violained @dontlistentodaisy @sweetbabygirlsworld @aniresrene @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @clemeowntine
ty for the tag k!
last song: watching over me - radio company
currently watching: the boys and supernatural
current obsession: nothing really atm
currently wearing: blue hijab, black long sleeve shirt, black short sleeve shirt with a cherry blossom branch print, gray sweatpants, and gray socks
last google search: balloony phineas and ferb
favorite flower: lily of the valley, thistle, and nymphaea lotus
favorite food: macarona bechamel or mulukhiyah with rice
tv character that best describes you: umm idk
current want: dean winchester right meow
current ick: adulting
open tags because i feel bad for continuously tagging a bunch of people lol
6 and 14 for the ask game muahaha
6: would you rather be permanently moving/on the road, or live in the same place for your whole life?
hmm ok i need more info for this question… would i still be able to travel if i choose to stay in the same place? how long would i be able to stay in one location before leaving if permanently moving?
with the info i have now id have to say stay in one place (assuming i can travel). call me basic but i love the idea of settling down and having a cute lil house in the middle of a large field with my two cats and maybe a partner. sigh need this rn!!
14: piece of media that left a lasting impact on you?
ooh i think imma have to say octonauts.. it’s part of the reason why i love marine life so much and want to become a marine biologist yippee!! so i have them to thank for that, and considering that’s what i want to do for the rest of my life i think id consider that a lasting impact
I got scared by some spiders (voluntarily, images) and I needed a cute distraction, so here are some blue cats:
OMG GUYS LOOK ITS ME!! how did you get those pics of me.. hm…
i am curious as to what you are looking at pictures of spiders for, may i be nosey?
New tag challenge! Create a moodboard about each of these things (in order) that describe you the best, then tag others you want to get to know better. I'll start-
style, animal/ spirit animal, song, meme/ silly photo, quote, aesthetic, part of nature, character, and random
No pressure tags: @littlebirdygirlywriting @sstar-ggirl @piouscoffeelover @thevagabondexpress @starrydustedwinter
mine :3 did it canva so it's lowkey so blurry BUT THANK U DAYDREAM EHEHEH
lil taglist @sunkissedliterarylightofchrist @literaryavenger @sleepy-k0i
Also done with Canva lol
no pressure tags: @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @myfavbuckyfics @reginaphalangelobster
Omg this was SO much fun, tysm for the tag!
Npt: @clemeowntine @casanddeanswife @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @scandalscontained @radioshepard @ra1nchester @s0urw00lf @mythandmemories + anyone else interested!!
omg YIPPEE ty for the tag!! i’m obsessed with how half the pics i get are always cats
no pressure tags: @mythandmemories @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @dontlistentodaisy @castielscaplan @violained @daytonadean @soapyspurnell @heapingfern @grahamschewtoy @princegabriel0096
Dis you?
IM SO GLAD YOU THOUGHT OF THAT YES HAIDUEHENGIGK ITS LITERALLY ME!!!
butcher x reader where you’re playing with terror and you say “sit” and you just hear this loud thud from behind you and turn to see butcher on the ground
The first time he does it, he's being a smart ass. You roll your eyes, failing to suppress your grin, telling him he's won.
The next time, is behind very closed doors, and he's way too into it to let it go after that.
It gets to the point where he's so used to that word falling from your lips that when you try and tell Terror to sit when you're around the boys, Butcher doesn't even think twice about the command. Until all eyes are on him.
He tries to brush it off as a joke, but it happens again a few weeks later, and they never let it go.
"Seriously?" Hughie - Hughie of all people - laughs "You follow orders?"
"Listen 'ere y' little-" He stops himself, or more accurately, you glare at him from across the room, holding a very disappointed looking Terror in your arms.
He sighs, takes his hand away from Hughie's throat, and corrects himself.
"When 'ou've got someone like 'em tellin' ya what t' do, y' fuckin' listen"
Hughie's eyes drift over to you, and he sees Butcher's point.
okok this kinda connects to my thought about ben x reader who has old scars but instead he reads the situation wrong—
you’re his first plus size partner, and when you wear something that shows off the skin on your hips or thighs or literally anywhere you have stretch marks- his eyes zero in on them and he coughs awkwardly before going “so, like, you don’t do that shit anymore, right?” and you’re just SO confused and because he’s not good with words it takes you a hot minute to understand what he’s trying to say. then when you get it you burst out laughing and his cheeks heat up a tiny bit
You're still laughing and he's still pouting when it dawns on you. Despite his gruff way of going about it, there was genuine care in his words. For a brief moment, you could see that he really did love you, even going so far as to worry about you.
You don't say anything, but the next time you see him after that, whether it's after a mission he's been on for days or when he comes back from the bathroom, you're wrapping your arms around him, bringing him in for a tight, warm hug with your hand fisted in his hair, holding him close.
For once, he doesn't make a smartass remark or question your actions, he just lets himself feel how soft you are, fingers digging into your plush waist, curling tighter around you, no sharp edges, just gentle curves.
chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby soldier boy chubby sol- *gets shot 57 times*
Okay but when he finally settles down with you and actually relaxes, he starts to soften.
He's still an asshole, sure, but he looks at you like you mean something and when you need him, he's there.
He starts to indulge in your cooking more and more, being able to enjoy it instead of having to shovel in what he could before a mission and leave a half empty plate behind.
He starts requesting things too, stuff he remembered having as a kid, this one thing he tried in Germany, all sorts of things. And you happily do your best, just glad to see him letting himself sit down and rest sometimes.
And he loses the hard, defined muscle he's so used to having. The strength is still there in tenfold, but he's just a little softer, not having to run and fight and kill every day.
He's not insecure. He's fucking Soldier Boy. But he's less cocky.
It's surprising, not huge, but noticable.
He used to make jokes when you'd get annoyed with him for little, nothing kinds of things - "Good thing I'm so good-lookin' you put up with me then, huh doll?"
But they stop.
When you're laying in bed one night, moving to slide your hand under his shirt, he grabs it. He hides it behind his whole macho bit, pinning you to the bed, but when you wiggle free, you lay kisses over his stomach.
He hides behind humour again.
"Y'wanna go a little lower, Sweetheart?"
But when you shake your head and lay kisses over that little bulge of his abdomen, down his softer thighs, his hands fist in the sheets, not used to but slightly relishing in this kind of attention.
He never speaks of it again, but you do it again randomly,just enough to make him feel like he does have to be what he once was.
Hi, hello, how are ya? Could I request the following:
Sam and Reader are in a relationship. And Reader is asexual and is down on themselves about that, and why Sam is still with them, etc. Especially seeing Dean with his current woman.
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ enough,
summary. you begin to question if you're the right partner for sam.
pairing. sam winchester x asexual!reader genre. fluff
wordcount. 274
notes / warnings. not feeling enough, doubt and overall overthinking // thank you for requesting this sweets! hope you like it 🩷
The bunker's kitchen feels too bright when Sam finds you staring blankly at the coffee maker, hands wrapped tight around a mug that's been empty for hours.
"You okay?" he asks, voice still rough with sleep. His fingers brush your shoulder, feather-light.
You force a smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking."
Phantom Life
synopsis ٠࣪⭑ you were captured by a Djinn and now you’re mourning a life that wasn’t real
contents ٠࣪⭑ Dean Winchester x reader (f), non-explicit, age gap implied cause why not?? innocent/shy!reader implied, mentions having curly hair (can totally be ignored, it was entirely self-indulgent), soft angst, unrequited love (but it’s actually not), yearning!dean, 3.8k word count
notes ٠࣪⭑ This is my first ever fic, please be kind (constructive feedback welcome). I actually had a lot of fun writing this, it was just for myself but I liked it so much that I decided to share it! Also sorry if the lores not right, I haven’t watched the Djinn eps in a min and I was too lazy to confirm every detail
It was days after the Djinn case. The one that had Dean scouring some nowhere town like a madman looking for you, his chest twisting with guilt, the fact you were taken right under his nose settles like an incurable chill in his bones. But it was possibly worse seeing you there, hanging by tied up wrists, body limp and frail, the tube of the blood bag sticking out of your arm like you’re some monster's prepped and ready buffet.
Sure, you were alive and he didn’t have to wonder anymore, but the sight didn’t serve as much of a relief.
Dean cradled your bruised frame so gently in his arms, despite the rage and worry clinging to his insides, as he and Sam took you down. Murmured apologies leaving his lips as he carried you back to the impala, not caring if his little brother or your half out-of-it self can hear him, all he cares about right now is you.
The days following were quiet, you’d tried to bounce back, really tried— but the illusive life promised to you by the Djinn, plagued every thought and every moment of every day.
You could still feel the comfortable weight of the ring on your finger, the feeling of Dean’s rough hands gently caressing your soft skin, you could still hear the sounds of peace and cicadas becoming the soundtrack to your life, only being interrupted by the sweet giggles and babbling of your baby. A baby girl, named Layla Mary Winchester, Dean didn’t even have to convince you to name your first child after an old rock song, you loved it the second he suggested it.
She was all Dean, from the green hue of her eyes, to the freckles on her nose, the plump and pink little lips that could make any grown woman jealous, and the devious little smirk they wore, but the hair, that was all you— her ringlets almost so perfect it’s as if God hand curled them around His own finger. You could see how Dean's face went all soft whenever he touched her hair, so reverently, his mind no doubt going back to the first time he ran his hand through your curls.
You could still remember bath times and teaching Dean how to do pig tails after he failed horribly the first time. You can still smell the home cooked meals mixed with the strong scent of motor oil and that sweet sweat that clung to Dean's skin after working on the car all afternoon, under the warm sun. You’d gotten used to telling him to wash his hands before picking up Layla or trying to steal a bite of whatever was on the stove.
Layla clung to him anyway, that was probably what you missed most. The way Dean had looked at this little version of the both of you with so much love, the way he was always so gentle with her but also teaching her to be tough without dismissing that softness that came from her mother, he’d held her when she cried and contorted his features into the stupidest faces just to hear her laugh.
Stop it, you had to remind yourself, because none of it was real.
Dean wasn’t yours, you didn’t have a cozy little house in a rural area, there was no dancing to oldies on Sunday mornings, no bedtime stories or nap time cuddles, there were no rings or kisses or home cooked meals. It was just another cruel form of torture in your horror-filled lives, one a monster cooked up just for you.
You hate to even think it, but you almost wished Sam and Dean had never found you… just so you could stay in that perfect little dream world, just a little longer.
The boys didn’t know what to do because you wouldn’t tell them, you’d barely said anything other than “sorry”s and “I’m fine” since they found you.
There was no way you could look Dean in his face and tell him that the Djinn looked in your head and found that your dream world consisted of being his wife and the mother of his non-existent daughter, with no monsters and no blood and no hunting.
Not when he didn’t see you that way, not when you were exactly what he didn’t want— a non-confrontational, soft, criminally un-sexy, doesn’t drink or smoke or sleep around, wants something real, girl— to admit that would be a suicide mission.
Sam might understand if you told him. He sees the way you look at his brother, the way you laugh at Deans jokes even if they’re not funny, he catches the way your face heats when Dean calls you “sweetheart” and every excuse you make just to stand or sit a little closer to him. He also sees the wrecked look on your face when Dean leaves with random women, no matter how hard you try to mask it, Sam sees the way you go quiet when a pretty girl slides a hand down Dean's leather-clad bicep, the way you laugh it off when he calls you “kid” as if the word doesn’t feel like a punch straight to your chest. But just because Sam is an observant know-it-all doesn’t mean you are going to tell him about this little dream life you’re mourning.
“Go talk to her” Dean whisper yelled at his brother, the two watching you from across the diner, you still haven’t opened up about anything involving the djinn case.
You’ve been stepping back during hunts, never talking his ear off with your excited rants anymore, and he swears he’s seen more fake smiles on your face in the past week than he’s seen your real smiles the entire time he’s known you.
He’s sick of it— he’s sick of not seeing you light up over little coffee shops or stray alley cats, he’s sick of not hearing your voice quietly singing along to the radio then acting like you weren’t when he caught you, he’s sick of you avoiding his gaze, of ignoring him almost completely. It’s even worse that you’re not cold about it, you’re just… pulling back. He hates how much it affects him.
“Why do I have to talk to her?” Sam whispered back, tearing his eyes away from where you were sitting at the booth across the diner, looking at the raindrops fall down the windows, your untouched coffee going cold in front of you.
“Because—“ Dean started, fighting the urge to pull the older brother card and just say cause I said so.
“Aren’t you like best friends or something?” He decided on instead, crossing his arms over his chest like a child.
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t make it okay for me to say ‘hey you’ve been acting weird since you were kidnapped and slowly dying the other week, everything alright?’” Dean's face fell a little, just a microscopic change in his expression at the reminder of what happened, but he brushed it off.
“that’s not what I meant and you know it” He added, less humor laced in his voice now. Sam sighed, knowing Deans also just worried, it’s just so unlike you to not talk about something. To not even tell Sam anything that’d happened.
You had just gotten out of the shower, pajamas laying on your damp, freshly lotioned skin, your body going through the motions of your somewhat of a night routine, as if you hadn’t just cried under the warm spray at the thought of you never kissing your daughter goodnight again and never falling asleep in Dean’s arms like you had every night in your dream world.
You almost made it to your bed before Dean cornered you, making you look up at him because of his sudden change in proximity.
“What’s going on sweetheart?” he murmured in that undeniably soft voice of his, your chest now clenching at the petname, rather than blushing like before.
“What do you mean?” You replied, voice quiet and thick, probably from the stifled sobs you let out just moments ago.
“Don’t— don’t do that, just talk to me” he said before you could even say anything else, his voice almost pleading, desperate even, but you shook the ridiculous thought away.
“Don’t do what, Dean? What do you want me to say?” You’re playing dumb, doing a good job at it too in your book, because you knew Dean didn’t really care enough to push much further.
“Anything— just say anything at this point, because it’s not like you to be like this… you’re not yourself” his voice came out just a tad firmer, and as if to prove his point you replied with “not myself?” You scoffed lightly.
“Well sorry it’s a little harder for me to go back to normal after what happened, not everyone gets the pleasure of being so resilient as you and Sam.” Your tone was defensive, the tone he only really heard during stupid arguments or research debates, but you never fought, especially not with him.
He was a little taken aback, mouth opening to argue a rebuttal but he bit his tongue— this definitely wasn’t like you, meaning something was up, and it’s not just him being overly protective again. So instead he brushed it off, didn’t take it personally.
“What happened?” He said your name so gently it made your chest twist with guilt already, you just shook your head.
“It’s nothing, I’m f—“ you started again, only to be cut off, “stop it— stop saying you’re fine, you’re not” your resolve started breaking. You turned your head away, throat burning and eyes stinging, all of the emotions you’ve been pushing down for days suddenly starting to bubble up with extra force.
“What do you want me to tell you, Dean?” You cracked, voice louder than before, words tumbling out before you could carefully curate them, “you want me to say I miss it? That I miss the made-up reality that was slowly killing me— you want to hear how I can’t stop thinking about it? You want me to tell you how I almost wish you guys never rescued me?” Your voice broke into a whisper at that, but you still refused to break down in front of him.
The look on his face was almost devastating, the way his confusion turned into shock, and the shock almost turned into sadness, or anger, or both? “You don’t mean that” his voice came out soft again, disbelieving.
“Yeah, well I do—“ you looked away from him, heart hammering under your chest, the burning your throat feeling now as if it was replaced with shards of broken glass. You don’t know how much longer you can hold everything back.
Dean went from disbelief to outrage in a matter of seconds, “what the hell did you have to say something like that—“
“You!” Your voice roared out before you could think about it, eyes burning with the tears you refused to let fall pooling in them, his face dropped but you continued before he even had a chance to blink “I had you, Dean! You were mine, and I was yours— and w-we had this little house in a little town, and the most perfect little girl—“ you’re voice fully gave out at that point, but you were too far gone to stop now. “No monsters, no motels, just us and our stupid little family—“ you choked on your own sobs, your hands going up to cover your mouth as if you were trying to save the shred of dignity you had left.
Dean hasn’t said anything, hasn’t moved, hell— you don’t even know if he’s breathed yet. Here you are, spilling your guts in front of him, the ones you tried so desperately to keep securely in place forever, and he’s just standing there.
“I’m s-sorry—“ you choked in another sob, unable to stop despite the embarrassment clawing at your skin, “I’m sorry— just g-go… please” you pleaded pitifully. That made him move, you closed your eyes, preparing for the sound of the slamming door, but it never came.
Instead, you were surrounded by a firm pressure, with the warmth that can only come from another body, Dean’s unique scent— the musky sweet bergamot and leather smell that you’ve become addicted to— engulfed you, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you finally registered in your scrambled brain.
He was hugging you, no not just hugging, he was holding you… in a way he never has before, in a way that you always secretly wished he would. You didn’t know what to do but your body reacted anyway, melting into his touch like this was normal, the moment only pulling more soft sobs out of you.
“Breathe, sweetheart” he murmured into your hair, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable but still held that gentle authoritative tone of his. Eventually your breaths slowed, listening to him despite everything, your lungs burning and your brain screaming at you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you’d registered his rough hand moving up and down your arm, the other tangled in your hair holding your head to his chest.
Another moment of silence passed before you tried to speak, “m’sorry—“ you murmured but he just shushed you, “what did I tell you about apologizing too damn much?” He murmurs, but his tone lacks the humor that statement usually holds, instead it’s still so gentle for him, like pouring honey over rough gravel.
You fought the urge to reply with an apology, instead opting for silence, but only for a moment longer.
Your head throbbed and your throat ached yet you continued, “why are you doing this?…” your voice so small and quiet, Dean's chest ached.
He hated that this was so foreign to you, hated that you felt like you had to apologize when you’d done nothing wrong, and he hated that you’ve been hurting and keeping it all in.
“Cause I want to, sweetheart” is all he could come up with, his own voice wavering just a little with emotion.
“Y-you’re not mad?…” you continue, even quieter than before.
His heart couldn’t take it, “why would I be mad?” He said, trying to still sound gentle despite the guilt crawling up his throat. Guilt for every moment he was ever a part of that made you think he’d be mad at you for something like this.
“Because I just blew everything up…” you breathed out, trying not to well up with tears all over again, you wanted to move away but you selfishly didn’t want this to end, either. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, you didn’t want to escape his warmth, you didn’t want the moment to end, because you were already preparing how you were going to have to walk away from this, from them, from this little friendship that provided the only solace in your life.
You knew it was the beginning of the end; Dean didn’t see you that way, it would be endlessly awkward if things stayed the same, he wouldn’t be able to help you, and you’d rather walk away that make him feel obligated or guilty to try and fix things when you’re the one that fell for him, even if it feels like ripping a vital organ from your own body.
Dean didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t good at this, never has been. He feels things deeply but he’s never been allowed to express them, or share them, or talk about them, or let others share too. So he just keeps holding you, because he wants to get it right. He wants to comfort you, he wants to hear you say what you feel about him, he wants to try and tell you what he feels for you.
He’s been holding it in for months, maybe even longer, and it’s been fine. Sure, he always took a good look at you when you weren’t paying attention, and he’d make stupid jokes just to hear your laugh, or how he’d put on songs he knew you liked just to hear you quietly sing along. Sure, maybe he felt guilty for letting his eyes fall to your sparkling glossy lips and wonder what it’d be like to just kiss you. Even if he just got to do it once, it’d be enough (it probably wouldn’t be but he’d risk it anyway). But you were a little younger, less experienced, such a sweet ray of sunshine, and oh so shy, but secretly a total badass— none of that made him want you less, but it did make him want to be careful. He didn’t just want you the way he’s had other girls, he knew you didn’t deserve that, you deserved so much more than he could give you, and he’d never forgive himself if he was the one to muck you up. So, he still picked up random girls, still flirted, still kept the no-strings-attached bad boy hunter façade alive and well. You were a risk too important to take, even for the thrill-seeker he is.
But now? He knew he couldn’t keep it all in, not when you were saying things like this, not when you had tears covering your cheeks and apologies on your tongue, he couldn’t let you keep thinking this was one-sided, he couldn’t let you think you had to walk away all because you’d admitted things he’d been too chicken to say himself.
“You didn’t ruin anything” he murmured after a moment, snapping himself out of his own thoughts. Your head was still cradled to his chest, he adjusted his grip to hold you just a little closer.
You could feel the tears prickling in your eyes just at his touch, instinctively melting more into him, even if your brain calls you idiotic for doing so. Before you could retort with how he’s wrong and how your relationship has changed forever and apologize for having feelings, he’d pulled back just enough to look at you.
“Tell me about it…”
You were taken aback, your eyes puffy and your heart thumping so loud you’re sure the people in the next room could hear it. You stayed quiet for a moment, processing if you’d heard him right, but the look on his face was so earnest he didn’t need to confirm with words.
So you told him— all about it. The rings, the giggles, the house, the gorgeous kitchen, the little girl that permanently etched herself into your heart even though she doesn’t exist. You talked about the way you’d danced to music in the kitchen after bedtime and how you’d bring him sweet tea while he worked on the car, you talked about how much Layla was like him and how you adored her for it. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer in his eye at that.
You were soft and emotional but passionate, he’d had to tell you to keep going a couple times when you got flustered, and he’d wipe his thumb under your eye when a tear would escape. He never called you stupid or reminded you that it wasn’t real or shamed you. He just listened.
“Do you know how wrecked I was when we found you?” Dean had whispered a while later, after you ran out of things to tell him, after you’d moved to sit together, after you finally accepted he wasn’t upset with you.
You swear you could see him get a little flustered, but you were more interested by his words.
Before you could ask him what he meant, he continued, “you uh…” he looked down before meeting your eyes again, “it didn’t look good… I thought-“ he didn’t say it, instead scrubbing a hand over his stubble, but you knew what he meant.
“What I’m trying to say is—“ he paused again, just trying to find the right words even though he’s terrified. He looked in your eyes, “I don’t want you to think that this is all just one sided…” he looked so shy you almost didn’t recognize him in the moment. But his words still stopped you in your tracks.
“What do you mean?…” you asked carefully, voice barely audible, pulse accelerating within seconds. He tentatively reached over and took your hands in his, they were tough and warm and yours fit perfectly in them. You swear you almost choked on your own breath.
“I’ve uh… I’ve been trying to push it down for a while now…” his eyes flicked to yours again, and you could’ve sworn they landed on your lips for a split second, “I didn’t want to be the one to uh, mess you up I guess.”
Your brows furrowed a little at his words, unable to take your eyes off his face, giving his hand a mindless little squeeze to urge him on, or to comfort him, you don’t really know. “You’re scarin’ me” you murmured with a little nervous laugh that fell flat.
He couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered even at that, he was more far gone than he admitted to himself. One of his hands left yours, tucking a loose curl behind your ear, his thumb gently grazing your tear-stained cheek. Your breath hitching, heart beating impossibly faster.
“You don’t need to be in a dream world for me to want you” he finally admitted, voice so stupidly soft but so sincere.
Before you could pass out he continued, “now I can’t promise you a kid” that pulled an amused and shocked little chuckle out of you, “but I do know that these feelings scare the crap outta me, and I can’t let you sit here and continue to beat yourself up for this, like I don’t feel the same.”
Dead. You’re pretty sure you are— is this another djinn? Is this real, you genuinely don’t know at this point. You’re pretty sure Dean knows you’re freaking out by the look on your face, so in an attempt to confirm everything he just said, his hand by your cheek moves to your jaw. Tilting your head up with his finger, just a little, giving you enough time to stop him, and then he just kisses you.
You’re still shocked for a moment, so still that he almost pulls away, but then you just melt, eyes shut, hands reaching up to clutch themselves into his shirt. It’s better than anything he’s dreamed up, and the same goes for you. Who knew just an innocent little kiss could be so blissful.
His thumb gently caressed where it rested on your chin, smiling into the kiss as his other hand made its way into your hair. It wasn’t rough, or quick— it was soft and full of feelings they’ve both buried for far too long, his lips are soft and he can taste the minty toothpaste on your breath. You both pulled away just enough to breathe, chests rising and falling in tandem.
“You believe me now?” He murmured with that little smirk of his. Your smile widened and before he could make another sarcastic remark you pulled him in for another kiss as an answer.
aren’t all fiction books lowkey just fanfiction of said authors characters
are we FUCKING GREAT YET???
Sleepyhead and Pretty Boy
☁︎ Paring: Soldier Boy x GN!Reader
☁︎ Summary: You're sleepy and you think Ben's pretty, the duo to save the world from endless peril! Or just cuddle, but you're not supposed to talk about that.
☁︎ Warnings: fluff, suggestive, comedy, swearing, mild toxic masculinity, biting (1), kinda ooc Ben (he cares about reader)
☁︎ Word Count: 600
☁︎ Rating: Mature/15+
☁︎ Requested by: @clemeowntine
꧁ Read my rules and send a request! ꧂
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ty for the tag @reginaphalangelobster ! (starting a new post cuz the thread was getting long)
who are your current top 5-8 artists?
radio company, julia wolf, pierce the veil, lana del ray, isabel larosa, beabadoobee, slipknot, nickleback
no pressure tags: @mythandmemories @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @dontlistentodaisy @castielscaplan @violained @daytonadean @soapyspurnell @heapingfern @grahamschewtoy @princegabriel0096
why is it that when i look for pictures on pinterest, 90% of them are ai, most of the time not even labeled as such. “just go to settings and-“ i did that already, and it’s still showing up. i had to scroll so far to find one picture that wasn’t ai generated. it should not be this way.
