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fallin2pieces · 4 days ago

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LOCKED OUT! *ೃ༄

summary: stanford!sam works at the front desk of his residence hall. while picking up a package, you share an awkward moment. a few days later, after a night out, you go to him when your roommate locks you out of your room.

pairing: stanford!sam winchester x f!reader (“y/n” used once)

content: both are 20. sam winchester is the sweetest. soft sam winchester. shy girl. nerd sam. slow burn. mutual pining. tipsy reader. no like painfully slow burn with no reward.

word ct: 2.4k

notes: i am a sucker for slow burns & awkward conversations. that is all. not proofread. lowercase intended.

you walk in long strides, and puddles splash the bottoms of your jeans, the denim shifting to a dark blue. you huff with frustration, bringing your umbrella down closer to the top of your head. your body shivers, the cold rain nipping at your skin despite your efforts to hold your rain jacket closed. where the fuck did this come from?

you could have sworn you’d checked the weather this morning before leaving for class.

slight breeze, seventy five, and partly cloudy.

now, it was dark and stormy, and your teeth chattered on your painfully long walk back to your residence hall. you were miserable. you had had a long day that could only be described as unfortunate.

first, you woke up that morning to the all too familiar color of red soaking through your bedsheets and the slight metallic scent of iron. after throwing your sheets into the hamper— because of course every washing machine was full— you dropped your last granola bar onto the hallway stairs that were for sure caked with a multitude of mysterious liquids and bodily fluids. luckily, lab went well. all three hours of it. no beakers dropped, no cotten balls set on fire, and no mistaking grams for ounces (not your brightest moment). afterwards, you even had the pleasure of finding a seat in the library to quietly eat your lunch.

you wish you hadn’t taken those four hours for granted, because everything went downhill from there. there was a brief moment in which you even sifted through far away memories in an effort to recall whether you had once broken a mirror or walked beneath a ladder.

in your next class, you sat down and gathered your supplies. computer, check, water bottle, check, calculator, check, ipad, check, wait— you forgot your ipad. in both classes, you were forced to face your classmates, cheeks flushed and pink, voice small when you asked for a piece of paper.

and here you were, hours later, walking back in a torrential downpour. the wind was strong. five minutes from your res hall, a particularly powerful gust blew your umbrella, flipping it inside out. in that moment, you truthfully believed that you were god’s strongest soldier.

you gasped, stumbling around as you desperately tried to fix it. the rain pelted you, temporarily blurring your vision. fuck this. you gave up, and broke out into a jog.

—

you breathed hard, soft gasps leaving your lips as you made it beneath the roof. droplets of rainwater slid down your nose and onto your lips. you licked them off… cold and fresh.

“stupid piece of sh…” you mumbled quietly to yourself as you shook the broken umbrella. you finally stepped into your building where it was warm and dry. you pulled your hood off your head. somehow, your hair was mostly dry. frazzled, but dry.

your body still shook from the cold, but the comfortable heat coming from the radiators encompassed you, and you felt like you could finally relax.

you turned to walk towards the stairway, wanting to get to the laundry room as fast as possible. there’s gotta be at least one washer open at this time of day.

but you paused in your tracks, remembering an email you’d received on your school account. your package has been delivered! your delivery may be found at… you sighed, turning around on the balls of your heels and made your way to the front desk.

there, a boy with messy brown hair sat with his nose buried in a large book. you took a short breath, suddenly very aware of your damp appearance. you stood still for a moment, but he didnt look up from his book.

“uh, hi.” you spoke softly, cheeks pink. you brushed a strand of hair from your face.

the boy’s head snapped up. “oh, hi! sorry, i, uh, didn’t see you. what can i help you with?” his eyes met yours. they were apologetic. pretty too.

“sorry to bother you. um, i just, uh, i think i got a package.” you were stumbling over your words. you were wet, your broken umbrella hung limp in your hands, and you knew your backpack was probably soaked through. you were suddenly hyperaware of everything, and you could only imagine how dumb you looked.

“no problem, just scan here.” he smiled and pushed a small black box towards you. he rose from his seat and he was suddenly much taller than he originally seemed. he closed his book to show the cover, which had constitutional law written in large font.

you fumbled around for your phone, which was in your left back pocket. the opposite one that you usually put it in. you mentally eye rolled at yourself.

“wet out there, hm?” the mail boy teased, making small talk. “just a little”. you saw the corner of his lips curl into a small smile. you pulled out your phone, hovering it above the scanner. a small ding rang out. you watched as his gaze fell to the computer in front of him, and then back to you. “y/n?”

“that’s me”. you smiled weakly, a nervous giggle escaping your lips. he gave a small nod. “i’ll be right out.” he disappeared through a door that led to the mail room. you rocked back and forth on your heels, humming softly. no song in particular, just as a means of grounding yourself. you were getting antsy, mentally walking through the steps you’d take immediately after this debacle.

grab the package, go upstairs, throw down your bag, grab hamper, walk back downstairs to go to the laundry room. or should you check to make sure there’s an open washing machine before you go upstairs? that would save you some effort, but—

“hey, you’re the girl that’s always getting absurdly large packages, aren’t you?” the mail boy broke your train of thought as he appeared with your package. you blushed again— something you seemed to be doing a lot of today. “oh, uhh, probably?” you squinted, scratching the back of your head. fuck, that’s embarrassing.

“uh, who told you that?” you forced a chuckle. he walked through the side door of the office and made his way to you. he handed you the package, which, to be fair, was absurdly large. he hovered his hands over yours, ensuring that you had a good grip. “leila. one of the other front desk attendants.” he took a step back. “uh, not to call you out or embarrass you or anything, i just… realized it was you… i guess.”

he stood there in front of you. he was very tall, but his gentle demeanor and soft hoodie made him much less intimidating than he probably should be.

your lips straightened and you sighed. “no, no— it’s chill. of course she did. uh, we’re roommates.”

of course it was leila. she’s your best friend, and apparently, your number one fan. leila is someone who makes conversation with anybody wherever she goes. no detail is lost on her, and nothing is ever too much information. you loved that about her though. seeing her speak so confidently made you feel more comfortable to do so.

“here, i’ll take this. it… probably won’t do you any good anymore.” the boy took the broken umbrella from your hand. in a split second, his eyes scanned your body. you mumbled a shy thanks. your hand was no longer cramping and you had a better grip on the box. you turned away, ready to finally go back to your dorm.

“oh, uh. it’s cat litter… by the way.” you spoke. the boy, who was making his own way back to the desk turned around. he tilted his head curiously, eyes furrowing.

“the packages. i have a cat.” the boy only chuckled. it was breathy. “i suppose that makes sense.”

you turned back around, almost getting to the stairs before you heard his voice once more, this time, a bit louder. “uh, i’m sam by the way!” he called. you simply smiled.

—

nearly every day after that interaction, you’d notice sam working at the front desk. mostly night shifts. some nights you’d catch each others’ eyes, but most days, he didn’t look up from his book.

you didn’t quite understand why, but there was small flutter of anxiety in your stomach whenever you passed.

—

you hiccuped. not loudly, just one of those tiny ones that lingers in your throat and makes your face scrunch up.

"shit," you whispered, wobbling slightly as you stepped back from the door. your dorm key had worked earlier, but that was hours ago when you dropped your jacket off before heading out to the bars. now, as you jiggled it for the fourth time, it gave a stubborn click and refused to turn.

"leila!" you whisper-yelled, knocking your fist lightly against the wooden door. "open up!”

nothing. silence. the girl had fallen asleep on her bed before pregame even ended. you weren’t much of a partier, leila even less so, but your some of your lab friends had begged you to go out that night.

begrudgingly, you did, although you still walked home early. you were dressed in a black mini skirt that piper, your labmate, had given you. it wasn’t much your style, but you had to admit, you looked pretty.

you sighed dramatically, letting your forehead fall against the door. your cheeks were warm, flushed, from a mixture of alcohol and the walk home. it was too late to be locked out. and it was too uncomfortable for you to sit out here like a stray cat, though you vaguely considered curling up like one in the stairwell.

you could risk spiders crawling over your body, or you could risk getting on the bad side of your neighbors and ra by pounding on the door some more.

then you remembered something—or someone.

the desk.

sam.

you froze in place. your stomach fluttered again, like it always seemed to do when his name flickered into your brain. you feel like you’ve been hearing that name everywhere lately. like you’re seeking it out.

go downstairs, ask him to let you in, easy. no big deal. except— you were slightly tipsy. not drunk. just… looser. more likely to say something stupid.

you checked your phone. 12:30am. would he be working at this hour? on a friday night?

you tried to smooth your hair, pull your jacket into place, and straighten your expression before beginning the quiet descent to the front desk.

you peeked around the corner. he was there. of course he was. book open. hoodie sleeves pulled over his palms. a soft desk lamp illuminated him in gold, and your heartbeat sped up ever so slightly.

as you stepped into view, his eyes lifted like he’d felt you coming.

you tried for a casual wave. "hey."

he blinked once, then smiled slowly, almost like the expression snuck up on him.

"hey," he said, voice soft. "you okay?"

you crossed your arms, half for warmth, half for composure. chills ran down your spine, and yet you felt hot all at once. "uh. not really. leila locked me out." you added, a little sheepishly, "i think she fell asleep."

"i tried to be responsible," you offered, shrugging, lips curved in a small, helpless smile. "came home early. didn’t lose my ID. wore two layers." you flailed your arms out, letting them hit your sides.

sam chuckled. his eyes sparkled beneath the glow of the lamp. has he always been this pretty?

"honestly? A plus."

you laughed. it made you sway a little in place.

his eyes caught it, flickering from your eyes to your shoes. “do you want to sit for a second?" he stood, making his way to the door, and leaving his book to sit open on the desk.

you hesitated, but padded over, perching on the bench by the desk. sam took a seat next to you. your knees bumped eachother. your fingers picked at your sleeves.

"you’re not gonna narc on me, are you?"

he mocked a serious look. "depends. how many drinks?"

"like... two and a half?" your gaze was fixed on the floor.

he raised a brow and tilting his head, forcing his eyes to meet yours. you felt shy, like he was really seeing you.

"okay, three." you admitted, nose scrunching.

his smile grew. he let out a heavy breath. "good. you're alright. i mean, you walked here in a straight line, right?"

“ish.” you muttered.

he huffed a laugh and shook his head, messy bangs falling over his eyebrows. "do you want me to let you back in?"

you nodded, relieved.

"yes. please. i promise i’ll owe you, like, you can meet my cat. or, i’ll buy you some— some candy?” your words came quick, stumbling from your lips. you couldn’t help but shake your head at the stupidity of what you had said.

sam went back into the office and returned with a key ring. he glanced down at you, gaze lingering just a second too long.

"you have glitter on your face."

your hand immediately flew to your cheek.

"oh god. where?"

he bent down so he could lean a little closer, eyes big and warm.

"left side. no—uh, right. here." he pointed near his own cheekbones.

"great. now i’m sparkly and locked out. just my luck."

"you’re… kind of charming, actually." he said it so casually that it took a second to register. you nearly lost your step as he offered his hand. you took it slowly, standing up.

your stomach flipped. your eyes widened slightly, meeting his. then he was already turning, pretending like he hadn’t said it.

you followed in stunned silence as he led you upstairs. once you reached the second floor, you guided him towards your dorm.

at your door, he fiddled with the keys, finally clicking the right one in. the door creaked open, casting soft yellow light over both of you. on her lofted bed, you could just barely make out the shape of leila, who seemed to be fast asleep.

you turned to thank him, your mouth already open, but he beat you to it.

"i’m glad you came to me. like—not just because i work here, but…" he trailed off, suddenly bashful.

"i'm glad, too," you whispered. you stepped inside, pausing in the doorway. "hey, sam?" you were feeling brave. or maybe this was the alcohol taking control.

he glanced up, eyes warm.

"you’re kind of charming, too." his face flushed.

"thanks," he mumbled, then looked down at his shoes like he’d said something embarrassing. after a beat, he spoke, “goodnight. i’ll see you around.”

he planted a light kiss on your cheek. heat washed over your face. “goodnight, sam.”

you smiled to yourself as you shut the door, pressing your back against it. lifting your hand, you could feel a rough patch of skin. you still had glitter on your cheek. and unbeknownst to sam, under the harsh white lights of the hallway, his lips sparkled.

—

thank you for reading! i used to write on wattpad years ago, but this is my first tumblr fic! i hope you guys enjoy :)

send me some fic prompts on angel radio!

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fallin2pieces · 4 days ago

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Kiss me, I'm Irish!

you run into Sam at a saint patrick's day party...

Stanford!Sam x fem!reader, mutual pining, fluff, reader being an awkward idiot, tw: final essays 😔

also mentioned that reader has longer hair and is shorter than Sam, explicit language, as always 18+ mdni, 2.7k words

You fussed with your hair in the mirror. Picking it up in your hands and testing out how it would look if you put it in a ponytail, a bun, pigtails, a braid, two braids…

You were unsatisfied with all of it. You flip your head over, shaking out the mess you just made with your hair and decide to just leave it down.

You work on finding an outfit next. You throw open the drawers of your rickety dresser and start rummaging through them, tossing articles behind you as you judged them to be unfit. You needed something green, obviously, but preferably something pretty.

God, why didn’t you possess any cute green clothes-

“So, are we actually going to this party, or are you just going to look in the mirror the whole night?” Your friend, Amy, pipes up from where she’s lying on your dorm bed. She’s been ready for a while, donning a sequence green tube top and black flare jeans.

“You’re making me sound like Narcissus, or something,” you grumble, not bothering to look over at her. “I just want to look good, okay? What’s so wrong with that?”

Amy huffs. “Nothing, but the outfits you picked half hour ago looked great! All the hairstyles you’ve done have been equally stunning. Babe, are we still going to pretend like this isn’t about a guy?”

“I wasn’t pretending anything.” You spin around, having fished out a white mini skirt and tacky green tank top that reads kiss me, i’m irish, in big white letters, because apparently you don’t possess any regular green clothes. At least it was the day for it. “What about this?”

She pushes herself to sit up. “It’ll look amazing, just like anything you choose, because you’re gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a small smile. “You have to say that, you’re my best friend.”

“You should know by now that I don’t say any shit I don’t mean.” She scoffs. “The mini skirt will look so hot. Sam will love it.”

You feel your face heat up a bit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come off it already! You don’t have to lie to me. I’ve seen you looking at him in our mythology lecture.” Amy crosses her arms. “I’m surprised you even know who Narcissus is given how little you pay attention.”

You stick your tongue out at her, but you relent. “You really think he’ll like it?”

“Yes, I think he’ll love it. Now, get changed! Everyone will be drunk already by the time we get there at this rate.”

“Alright, alright. Message received. Thanks.” You offer her a grateful smile.

“You can thank me by getting ready. If I don’t have a frat guy’s best attempt at a cheesily-named mixed green cocktail in the next 15 minutes, there will be hell to pay.”

You chuckle at the warning, but oblige. You get changed quickly, not wanting to keep Amy waiting any longer. You both bound out of the dorm room, making your way over to the frat house. You were headed to the biggest Saint Paddy’s day party on campus. Honestly, probably in the whole town. You weren’t certain Sam would be there. From what little you knew about him, he seemed to be pretty studious. You didn’t see him out and about campus that much or hanging around parties. You weren’t sure if it was because he doesn’t really partake in them, or because the campus is just so big that you didn’t run in the same circles.

At any rate, almost everyone who is going out partying this weekend will stop by this party for at least a bit. It was your best shot at running into Sam outside the myth class you shared.

You walk into a crowd of people already moshing about. The music is blaring and the energy is high, as always. Nobody slammed back drinks like uni students who should be studying for midterms.

“I’m getting a drink!” Amy shouts over the bass you swear you can feel beating in your chest.

You nod at her and watch her disappear into the crowd, weaving through the sea of green-adorned drunk people stumbling around the house.

You try to decipher faces in the low-light of the house. Luckily, the one advantage you have in finding Sam is that his tall stature would be a beacon above all the other heads in the crowd. You’re walking sideways around the walls of the room, standing up on your tiptoes occasionally to try and get a better look.

Damn giant was nowhere to be seen.

You keep walking, at least determined to at least complete the square you started. Unfortunately, the act of not looking forwards as you stalk around comes to bite you in the ass. You bump into someone just as you’re nearing the entrance of the house again. You stumble a bit, but the person you had bumped into catches your elbow.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” you say loudly as you catch your balance. “I didn’t mean to-” you finally look up as you get yourself steadied. You blink at the figure for a second, cut off by your own shock.

It was Sam. He looked… different. His grown out hair that was usually falling into his face was pushed back with a green headband. There were two shamrocks coiled on to the hairpiece with a spring, causing them to bounce around with every shift of his head. He was dressed in a short-sleeved green t-shirt and some jeans. You’d never seen him in a short sleeve before, you find your eyes tracing over his biceps a bit too long to be a casual look.

This was awful.

You were supposed to spot him across the room and then think of a plan. This was not how it was supposed to go.

“No worries!” He shouts, then he smiles at you. “Are you looking for someone? Lose somebody?”

Your eyes are snapped up to his face. You gape at him for another few seconds, but realize you must look absolutely insane. You scramble to come up with an answer that wasn’t the truth. That you were circling the party like a damn shark looking for the really handsome guy in your myth class who you just happened to now bump into like a dumbass-

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asks at the sustained silence. His hand doesn’t move from its place on your elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say a bit too quickly. “Sorry, just a bit overwhelmed,” you add.

“Right, yeah, it is really loud in here.” Sam laughs. “Do you wanna step out or something?”

It was loud and overstimulating at the party, but that wasn’t the cause of your awkwardness. You fear it will only get worse if you’re alone with him.

“I don’t wanna drag you away from the party-” you begin.

“Ah, don’t worry about that.” Sam waves you off. “Could use some air. My friends are off being dumbasses doing who knows what, anyway. C’mon.” He uses his grip on your elbow to gently guide you through the crowd, leading you outside.

You will admit, once you both step out into the crisp air, you do feel a bit better. Less hot.

You take a deep breath. Sam releases your elbow.

“Better?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

“’Course.” He smiles at you, before holding out his hand. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

You smile back up at him. “Right. Good ol’ introductions.” You cringe internally at how awkward you sound. The coolness of the night air doesn’t do much to fight off the flush of your face this time. You take his hand and say your name in turn.

“That’s pretty,” he compliments. Sam holds onto your hand a bit longer than necessary as he examines your face. His eyes lingering on where you felt your face heat up.

“Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary, just telling the truth.” He holds your eyes in a soft gaze, before he finally releases your hand.

A blanket of silence cloaks the two of you, but it’s not necessarily uncomfortable. The only sound cutting through is the muffled pounding of club music through the poor beat-up speakers that were most certainly past their prime. Even still, it felt like your heart was mimicking the fast beat.

“I think we actually have myth together,” you try, breaking the silence.

Sam hums, examining your face again. “Oh, right, yeah. Hey, how’s your paper coming along?”

“Paper? What paper?” You ask, beginning to panic.

“The final essay?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My god! You had me panicking. I thought there was an essay due soon that I hadn’t remembered-” You cut off your rambling. “Haven’t started that one, yet. That’s a total April problem. How about you?”

Sam shrugs. “I’ve been doing some research on it, nothing too intense.” His tone is casual, but something about his attempt to sound carefree tells you that he probably already had it done. You don’t say anything about it, though.

“Right. What are you writing about?”

“I think Sisyphus.”

You frown. “Sisyphus? The eternal punishment? Kind of bleak, no?”

Sam laughs at that. “Have you been paying attention in class? None of the myths are necessarily happy.”

You click your tongue on the roof of your mouth, then join Sam in his laughter. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Have you thought of what you want to write about?”

“I think King Midas.”

That was the story you knew the most about if Sam had any follow-up questions. The lecture in which the prof discussed that myth was the one day Sam had been absent.

Sam leans over, teasingly bumping your shoulder. “That’s at least equally bleak. I don’t know why you were making fun of my choice.”

You smile up at him when you feel the contact. You’re sure it must look stupid, like a teenager giggling at their crush, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation was turning out to be not a complete disaster. Maybe you had hope after all.

“I digress.” You put up your hands in surrender, chuckling. Sam joins in. You both hold eye contact for a bit too long. You break it first, clearing your throat and looking back out at the lawn. “Nice headband, by the way. Appreciate your commitment to the holiday.”

“Huh?” You look back up at him and he’s wearing a look of confusion. His hand goes up to his head, and his face relaxes once he feels the shamrocks. “Oh. I forgot I was wearing that.” He grins, taking it off. “My friend gave it to me, said I didn’t look festive enough.”

“Well, with that you look plenty festive.”

Sam hums, though the grin doesn’t leave his face. “I think maybe stupid is the more apt term.” He takes the headband, stretching the sides between his hands so he can widen it. Sam places it atop your head. He nods in satisfaction. “I think it looks better on you, honestly. Keep it.”

You chuckle, moving your head side to side so that the shamrocks will wiggle. “Yeah?”

Sam snorts. “Yeah, you look great.”

You frown, pointing up at the headband. “But without these, you’re just a guy in a green shirt.”

Sam shakes his head. “I’m thinking about leaving soon, anyway. I’m passing the torch.”

Leaving? You’d just started talking.

“Early day or something tomorrow?” You inquire.

“Parties just aren’t much my thing.” Sam shrugs. “My friends are already too drunk to function, and it’s not much fun to be standing off in the corner by yourself.”

“You don’t want to join in all the drinking?”

“Also not much my thing.”

You nod. So, you had been right in your speculations that he’s usually not out at parties. You didn’t want him to leave yet, though. So, you decide to pluck up the little courage you had. This was probably your only shot, anyway.

“Yeah, I get that. I’m not big on drinking, either. If you wanted to stay though, we could hang out. We can be wallflowers together,” you offer. You hope you sound more composed than you feel, though you think you’re fidgeting too much to look casual.

Sam smiles. “Thanks, but I don’t really want to go back in. Had my fill.”

You nod quickly, scrambling to play off the sting of the rejection. “Right, right. Yeah, I get it.” You offer him a flash of a closed mouth smile. “Well, uhm, enjoy your night then.” You turn to head back into the house. You could slam alcohol for the rest of the night to hopefully circumvent this moment from sneaking into your long-term memory.

“Hey!” Sam calls out after you.

You turn back around. “What?”

“Uh.” He rubs the back of his neck, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually turn back around. “If you weren’t in a rush to get back, we could hang out out here? Less loud. I like to actually hear my conversations,” he jokes.

You pause, a barely audible: “oh,” is all you manage.

Sam furrows his brow. “Is that a yes…?”

You swallow. “Yeah, yeah. It’s a yes!” You exclaim.

Calm down. Too eager, you think.

“I also like to hear my conversations,” you add cooly.

Sam’s eyes light up as you make you way back to where you had been standing. He clears his throat as you take your place beside him again. “So, I wanted to ask, has anyone taken you up on that offer?”

You give him a perplexed look, the smile you had worn from being invited to stay giving away to befuddlement. “Offer?”

Sam nods, he glances down at your tank top. “Any lucky kisses tonight?” He teases.

You follow his eyes down to your shirt.

Right.

“Oh… you know. Just being festive and all,” you mumble awkwardly. “But, uh, no.”

“Right.” Sam pauses. “Is it still valid?”

“What's that?”

“The offer, is it still valid? I… I might know someone who’d like to take you up on it.”

You furrow your brow at him. He raises his at you.

You finally catch on.

“Oh… oh. Well,” you try not to sound too eager, “depends on who.”

“No one special. Just a guy in a green t-shirt,” he banters, gesturing to his clothing.

You grin, lightly shaking your head. “Think this guy in question is selling himself short.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

You nod slowly. “I think I can allow it.”

“Lucky him.” Sam steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Very lucky guy.”

“Think I’m luckier,” you say, the teasing tone dropping from your voice at the feeling of his touch. His hand feels cool against the flush of your face.

“We’ll see.” Sam hums. His hand moves to your chin, gently tilting it up a bit further. He leans in, catching your mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. It’s light, but there’s a certain passion that lingers beneath the surface of it. He pulls back after a few seconds, gingerly smiling at you. “He’s definitely luckier.”

All you manage is a small giggle. You were rendered speechless by the action.

“But-” Sam tilts his head at you, his smile growing wider. “I think he’s going to test his luck by asking if you’ll go get coffee with him?”

“Like… right now?”

Sam breaks out into a full grin now. “Why not?”

You nod quickly, not bothering to keep up the pretense of the banter anymore. “Yes, I’d love to, Sam.”

He swiftly places a kiss on your forehead, his hand on your chin dropping to grab your hand instead. “A lucky kiss indeed, then. Props to you for some truthful advertising.”

He starts to lead you down the steps of the porch, presumably heading to the café across campus. You didn’t care what Sam said, you were most certainly the lucky one.

tyty for reading!!

tags <3 @studiogrimm810 @tusk-rumours

check out more sam works here, or check out all my works here!

Photos are not mine, can be found here (Pinterest)

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fallin2pieces · 6 days ago

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WET DREAMZ

pathetic sammy wet dream boo. surprise! warnings: doggy, praise from sam, size kink, finger stuff, idk fluff at the end. i love him. also tjis is straight up porn. this is a surprise for @sweeterthancandy i love you !!

༺☆༻

after a long day of smoke-thick motels, coffee that tasted like burnt air, and another grave dug somewhere off the highway, sam winchester didn’t know how he found himself here.

“you’re—fuck, being too loud, baby,” he murmured, voice soft against your ear. even with your face muffled in the pillow, the sounds you were making were way too loud for him to brush off as just him taking care of a hangover. if the people outside the motel paid enough attention, they would know exactly what was happening in here. “gotta… gotta keep it down a little.”

“m—m’trying,” you slurred into the pillow again, clamping your teeth into the fabric of the pillow, trying to bite back a soft cry at the sensation of him sitting idle inside you. he was stretching you out, due to his big size of 8 inches, and for a girl who was shorter than 6’4 and wasn’t 200 pounds of pure muscle? that was a lot to take.

sam’s hand came down to gently trace the arch of your back, pushing you further into the mattress for a better angle. “s’gotta be really... really hard for you,” he was blabbering now, still rocking into you. he was trying desperately not to let out any sounds of his own, which was very difficult when you were being so, good for him. “doing so... so good, baby.” he reminded.

slowly, his fingers that were curled around your hips tightened to an almost bruising grip, and he pushed himself—all eight inches inside. the sensation had you seeing stars, a loud gasp leaving your throat, eyes squeezing shut.

one of sam’s big hands quickly came to cover your mouth, desperate to keep you quiet now. his hips leaned back then thrusted forward, burying himself completely inside you as a soft, strained gasp left him. his fingers pressed against your lips, trying to contain the sounds that you tried to let out. “you... you’re gonna wake up the whole—fuck.” sam’s fingers pressed down more firmly, keeping you silent as he continued to move inside your tight heat.

“you gotta be... be so quiet,” he slurred, letting out a low groan at the feeling of you clenching around him. he started to speed up, just barely, still trying to keep you from being completely loud. you gasped as he sped up, biting his finger gently to keep yourself quiet—a sharp whine leaving him at the sensation.

“such a … fuck.. a good girl,” sam whispered, his fingers loosening a bit as your whimpers got higher. his hands moved to grab your ass, holding you to him as he began to thrust harder into you. his voice was becoming more strained. “takin’ it so well, yeah, that’s right, that’s—“

sam woke with a sharp hiss at the sound of your voice, startled out of an uneasy sleep that clung to him like sweat. his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and squinting against the dim motel light, and when he realized where he was—and that you were standing right there—he groaned softly and turned his face away, suddenly very invested in the peeling wallpaper beside the bed.

his fingers moved automatically to his chin, brushing over the tacky warmth that confirmed his embarrassment. a thin trail of drool. perfect.

“ugh, god,” he muttered, swiping it off quickly with the sleeve of his flannel. “i—I wasn’t even that tired.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “you were snoring.”

“was not,” he mumbled, still avoiding your eyes.

“you drooled, sam.”

“yeah, okay, i might’ve drooled,” he admitted, cheeks already starting to turn a light, bashful pink. “don’t act like it’s a crime.”

“it’s not,” you teased, fighting a grin. “it’s just gross. and weirdly… vulnerable of you.”

“glad to know my most humiliating moment brings you joy.”

he finally risked a glance at you, only to find you staring with that irritating mix of amusement and affection that made him want to both roll his eyes and hide under the covers.

“you were mumbling in your sleep, too,” you added. “sounded like a mix between an insane injury and a porno.”

sam groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “please stop talking.”

“what were you dreaming about?”

“you. shutting up,” he deadpanned.

you’d never know.

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fallin2pieces · 9 days ago

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fallin2pieces · 10 days ago

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willow and tara especially being like “omg buffy what are u gonna do about bills” is so funny like. YOU live here too. get jobs!!!

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fallin2pieces · 12 days ago

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it’s finally been one year since i’ve uploaded my first and only fic (well published anyways…) happy bday? father’s day?

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)

heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it..), cunnilingus, choking

authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭

- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.

- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.

- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.

- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed

- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.

- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.

- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.

- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.

- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.

- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.

- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you

- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.

- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.

- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.

- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.

- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.

- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.

- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you

- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.

- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.

- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.

- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.

- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this

- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.

- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.

- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.

- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.

- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.

- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.

- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you mumbled. it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle

- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.

- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself

- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees

- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.

- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.

- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.

- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.

- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(

- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..

- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.

- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.

- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own

- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.

- “you’re such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up

- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.

- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.

- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.

- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.

- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.

- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.

- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.

- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.

- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.

- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.

- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.

- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.

- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.

- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.

- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.

- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age that you barely even know who treat you with only lust no love, but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.

- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).

- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.

- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.

- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.

- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.

- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.

- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(

- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.

- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.

- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.

- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.

- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.

- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.

- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.

- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.

- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.

- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.

- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.

- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.

- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.

happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there

#charlie swan #happy fathers day #YES DILFS YESSS #twilight

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fallin2pieces · 13 days ago

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the way i GASPED when i saw him in this shirt

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fallin2pieces · 13 days ago

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fallin2pieces · 13 days ago

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Sam Winchester x Reader

You Win

description: it's a quiet fall evening at the motel, and sam passes the time by playing some games. tired of reading, you ask to play and he takes it upon himself to teach you.

warnings: none. no nsfw, just sams giant ass hands and a lot fluff.

since yall voted basically 50/50 on this poll, i wrote the dean version too hehe ::>_<::

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ -`♡´-₊˚⊹ ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡ ⋆｡˚⋆˚✿˖°

The hunt had been slow, too slow. No solid leads, no fresh cases, and honestly, it was starting to wear thin on all three of you. For the first time in weeks, you weren't driving across state lines or holed up in libraries or paging through dusty books.

Instead, you were here: a dingy but cozy little motel room. It was fairly quiet except for the faint hum of the heater kicking on every now and then. The sky outside was heavy with clouds, the overcast light bleeding soft grey into the corners of the room. Fall had settled comfortably, that in-between kind of weather where sweaters and warm drinks felt necessary, but the world wasn’t quite ready for winter’s bite.

Dean had gone out to grab food, muttering something about seeing a burger joint down the road before slamming the door shut behind him. That left you and Sam behind, wrapped in a soft kind of peace neither of you got very often.

You lay on Sam’s bed, nose tucked into the book you'd been trying to finish for days. The faint scent of his cologne clung to his blanket beneath you. Warm, subtle, a little woodsy. Across from you, Sam sat at the edge of the bed, controller in hand, playing one of his old games to pass the time. You glanced up from your page.

There was something about watching Sam like this that made your chest ache in the sweetest way. His face, usually creased with worry, constantly buried in lore books, squinting at old newspaper clippings, was finally relaxed. His brow was smooth, his lips slightly parted in concentration, but peaceful.

A sudden sound from the TV made him jolt as his avatar collapsed dramatically on the screen.

He groaned under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle.

"Lossed?" you teased gently, your voice breaking the quiet.

Sam looked over his shoulder, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah," he admitted. "Got careless."

“I wanna try.” You shut your book, smile tugging at your lips, “Might even help you out."

He turned toward you slightly, that playful glint sparked in his eyes immediately, "Oh yeah?"

“Why not?” You shrugged.

"Alright, come here." He said, voice inviting and soft. He scooched back, making room as he patted the empty space between his legs. It was second nature between you two, but still, your heart gave a soft, stupid little flutter.

You placed your book on the nightstand, then shuffled to settle between his legs. His chest pressed lightly against your back and you felt the steady warmth radiating from him. The freakishly long legs that you and Dean teased him for caged yours in comfortably, grounding you.

The controller was handed off to you, but Sam didn’t pull away completely. Instead, his hands hovered close over yours, long fingertips grazing your knuckles.

"Alright," he murmured near your ear, voice dropping into that soft, careful tone he used when explaining things, "Let’s start simple."

"This one controls your movement," he explained, "And this one," Sam continued, his thumb guiding yours to another button, "controls your camera angle."

You nodded slightly, but your mind was half focused on the game, half focused on the way his warm breath tickled the side of your face. Your fingers nearly disappeared beneath his, and you had to suppress the warmth crawling up your cheeks.

You’d always admired his hands. More times than you could count, you’d found yourself idly tracing the lines on his skin when you both sat quietly together. You never brought it up, figuring Sam knew, but thankfully, never said anything.

"You still with me?" he asked with a breath of laughter. “Sorry, I might’ve been rambling.”

"What? No," you managed to say, “It was helpful rambling.”

“Alright then, give it a try,” He chuckled, hands leaving yours to gently take their place on each side of your waist. “I’ll help you out if you need.”

The first few minutes went surprisingly well. You moved your character around, getting the hang of dodging and swinging, though unlocking certain doors and puzzles took more time than you thought it would.

"Here," Sam offered, his hands sliding over yours again.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander from his hands to his face. The soft glow of the TV screen highlighted the few freckles across his nose, the faint curl of hair brushing the back of his neck, the little crease between his brow as he worked through the puzzle for you. For once, he looked his age. Not a hunter, not the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. Just a 22-year-old in a gray crewneck, playing video games on a quiet evening.

He solved the last part of the level with ease and pulled back slightly. "There," he said with a proud grin. "You did well."

You laughed. "You did all the work."

“Nah,” he teased, nudging you lightly with his knee, "Just needed a little boost."

Once you were more comfortable, you tilted your head back with a grin, "Can we play against each other now?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

“I’m certain," you challenged.

“Okay,” Sam sighed as he pulled back, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You huffed, “Just grab a controller, you dork.”

He stood up, grabbing another controller from his duffel before settling beside you this time. The competitive energy buzzed between you as the game loaded. You could feel his focus kick in, brows furrowing just slightly, jaw tightening with mock seriousness.

It was neck-and-neck for most of the game, but when you realized you were slipping behind, you resorted to desperate measures. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you swatted at his hand mid-game.

"Hey!" Sam laughed, his thumb slipping off the joystick, "That’s cheating!"

"I had a spasm," you shot back, biting back your laughter.

The two of you bantered and yelped like kids, giggles filling the motel room as the both of you resorted to smacking each other's hands off the controllers mid match.

Finally, with one final victorious move, your screen flashed

You Win!

“Yes!” You threw your arms up.

Sam rolled his eyes half heartedly as he watched you jump up and practically dance around in circles.

But then you caught it, that little smirk tugging at his lips.

You paused in place abruptly, eyeing him in suspicion,

"You let me win," you accused, still out of breath from your celebration.

“No I didn’t.” He dismissed, wrapping the wires around the controllers to put away, but you saw the smile threatening to tug at his lips.

“You so did!” You started toward him, before swatting at his shoulder, “I wanted a fair match–”

Sam chuckled, trying to dodge you. Before you could land another hit, he caught your wrists in his hands easily, gently tugging you toward him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, looking up at you with that amused grin you’d smack off anyone else.

“Okay, maybe I did let you win.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But only to boost your confidence for next time,” Sam quickly added. He shook his head with a half hearted scoff as he watched you mimic him under your breath childishly.

He flopped backward onto the bed, tugging you down with him. The two of you laughed softly, breaths syncing as you settled there.

“I want a rematch,” You murmur, poking the mole adorning his face.

Sam yawned, eyes fluttering closed as his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, "After I nap."

You catch his yawn, dropping your head against his chest, letting your eyes close too.

"Promise you’ll actually try to win."

“Deal,” He murmured, the angular slope of his nose nuzzling into the crown of your head.

Outside, the soft drizzle continued to patter against the windows. But inside, wrapped up in Sam’s arms, everything felt wonderfully still.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ -`♡´-₊˚⊹ ⋆˚✿⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ - ⋆˚✿˖° dont be shy, leave a note to lmk what you think (≧∇≦) ZONT forget to read the dean version for those of yall who said "i cant choose `(*>﹏<*)′ !! " on my poll loll requests always open:)

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