frankiesweird - Tumblr blog

frankiesweird · 6 days ago

Note

aj hitting it raw and overstimulating the reader like it’s crazy 8 positions 6 hours on the bed, on the couch, kitchen counter or stairs type shit

NASTY

A Drabble ݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

Aj x Reader

Warnings: Doggystyle, cowgirl, face sitting. Anal sex, vaginal sex, squirting (Short imagines of each!) I didn’t do too many cause I wanted it to be a short Drabble

First 2 Dividers by @konatasoup ! Last two from @aquazero Picture from Pinterest, feedback would be greatly appreciated!! <3

Doggystyle

‘ Yeah you like that?’ His hips slammed back into you, chest pressed down against the marble of the kitchen island. ‘ uh huh..’ you mumbled out. His hand folding your arms behind your back, relentlessly pounding into your poor pussy. His free hand digging into your hip and pulling you back to meet each deep stroke of his hips.

Eyes fluttering shut, his position behind you shifted. Hitting that sweet spot repeatedly, pulling a strangled out cry from your throat. ‘ Fuck you’re so goddamn tight.. just squeezing me’ His pace got sloppier, heavy balls slapping against your ass.

He felt your walls flutter around him, his nimble fingers found your clit. Rubbing it vigorously in circles. ‘ That’s it, cum for me baby..’ your pussy clenched, ‘ oh fuck- shit—‘ whining out, creaming around of him. He groaned, burying himself to the hilt. Your release triggering his own, thick’s spurts of cum erupting into your sopping cunt.

Cowgirl

Aj bucked up into you, your hips pitifully trying to match his pace. Tits bouncing with each thrust, pathetic Moans falling from your lips. ‘ Fuck— Anthony—‘ you choked out, cock roughly ramming into your cervix. The sound of skin slapping echoing in the large bedroom.

‘ mhm.. that’s my girl.. so fuckin’ wet.’ Big hand sliding up your side to grope at one of your tits, fingers pinching and tweaking your aching nipple. ‘ God these tits.. just perfect..’ He leaned forward and took the other one into his mouth, groaning around it. Sucking and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

‘ Yes yes yes—‘ His pelvis bumped against your clit, leaning forward and bracing yourself on his chest. He grinned, grabbing the fat of your ass and folding your legs back against your thighs. Forcibly fucking up into you, his balls hitting your ass with each movement. ‘ ohh shitt—‘ thighs quaking, white hot pleasure flooding your senses.

Anal sex

Your hands were holding onto the railing of the stairs for dear life, Aj mercilessly drilling into your soaked cunt. Ass jiggling after every snap of his hips, ‘ Mmph.. fuck..’ you whined out, nightgown bunched up around the base of your spine. His heavy cock abusing your poor little hole, each stroke eliciting a pathetic noise from your lips.

‘ Shit.. ass just sucking me in, fuck baby..’ Aj moaned behind you, he had been sooo pent up. He couldn’t even wait to get up to the bedroom, he had to take you on the stairs. ‘ Been thinkin about bending you over all day..’ his voice was increasing in pitch. God he was so needy.

‘ Yeah uh huh..’ your eyes fluttering shut, forehead resting on the railing. His breathing was ragged behind you, pace getting sloppier. He was so close, ‘ please baby cum for me..’ he whimpered, fingers rubbing your clit desperately. ‘ Nngh.. fuck m’cumming—‘ you choked out.

Face sitting

Aj’s groaned into your dripping folds, your thighs straddling his face. Tongue languidly licking at your clit, pressing hungry kisses against it. ‘You taste so good baby…’ he mumbled, giving you a deep appreciative suck. A single finger circling your hole before sliding right in. ‘ ngh.. mhm..’

You rutted against his face faster, hot mouth engulfing your sensitive pearl. Another finger sliding in next to the first, effectively curling against that spongey spot. ‘ Oh oh—‘ you whimpered ‘ Anthony…’ hips grinding against his eager mouth. Fingers gripping the headboard for stability.

He chuckled beneath you, ‘ you close baby? Gonna make a mess on my face huh..’ he teased you, fingers increasing in rhythm. Curling and scissoring inside of you perfectly, harshly sucking on your clit.

It was just too much, and before you know it- your body had tensed up. ‘ oh fuckkk—‘ pussy gushing around his fingers and all over his face, he groaned before coughing. ‘ oh shit- Sorry!’ looking down and raising up to make sure you didn’t accidentally waterboard him.

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe @amiratheangel @madsluvsdilfs @alealuvshayden @loliskywalker @blckberrie

Thank you so much for reading ! This looks a little rushed but it isn’t intentional, I wasn’t sure what to put. Let me know if you’d like to be on my taglist ! Commenting and feedback appreciated, love you <3

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frankiesweird · 6 days ago

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Be quiet for me

Summary: Dean had already gone to sleep, leaving you and sam alone and sharing a bed. He won't wake up, right?

Warnings: Sexy time, soft dom sam, overstim, clit play, unprotected sex, hand over mouth 😵, praise, dean in the next bed over, established relationship, spooning

A/C: another idea my friend gave me ^⁠_⁠^, @9doorsbanging go follow or else !!! Also i had no idea how to end this so sorry 😔

Hunting wasn't easy, especially not this one. You, sam, and dean were on a hunt in Virginia. Some ghost hunt along the Appalachian trail. Numerous people have gone missing in the mountains, one thing that doesn't help is that theirs millions of stories about ghosts or demonic presence within the woods.

It's been a long day, interviews the vic's family, talking to the police, you know..breaking the law, but you three still have no idea which ghost this actually is.

You three return back to the motel at which your staying at, hoping to get a couple hours of sleep. its around 12 am right now, you and sam share a bed while dean gets his own.

Sam's hand runs up and down your back, kissing your neck and jaw. It's been a while since you two had sex, always so busy with research or fighting for your life's.

"Sam, we can't." You whisper, turning to face him. You see his piercing eyes, his hair glimmer in the street light shining through the motel blinds. He caresses your face, "we can be quiet. Can you do the for me?" He whispers back. You slowly nod your head, "okay, turn back around, baby." He says.

He pulls down your shorts and underwear, sam reaches around and places his two fingers over your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, your breath hitches at the sensation. Sam chuckles softly and asks you, "does that feel good?". He knows it does, he knows you so well. He knows everything about your body.

You let out another whimper as he rubs faster, dipping into your slick every now and then. Sam lays there with a smirk on his face, he loves making you feel good, he loves being the only one who can.

You feel it in your stomach, the rope thinning. Your little breaths get quicker, sam notices this and moves his hand away from your clit. You whine at the lack of stimulation. Sam shushes you as he pulls his cock out from his boxers, he puts his hand to your mouth, "spit."

He rubs your saliva into his cock, then presses it against your hole. He slides it in slowly, covering your mouth with his hand. Your back is now pressed firming against his chest.

If anything, sam is the one who needs a hand over his mouth, he whimpers as his tip hits your cervix. He mutters a swear as he almost pulls out before slamming back into you.

His pace gets faster as time goes on, he brings his hand back around to rub your clit with his calloused fingers. The friction of his hands and his cock is to much, you let out quiet moans into his hands, your toes curl, and your legs shake.

"There you go, baby, doing so good for me." Sam praises, burying his face into your hair. He kisses your head. "Cum for me."

Your eyes roll back, feeling everything he's doing to you. Revelling in it. Your moans get louder, little squeaks being let out. "I got you, baby." Sam says before he shushes you once more.

Not long after, he cums. His hips stutters, his breath becomes uneven and quick, bitting his lip, he tries to be quiet.

He kisses your head again, calming down before he slips out of you, rubbing your back.

Dean shifts in his bed, "remind me to get a separate room next time."

Man ts so buns 🙏😭

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frankiesweird · 6 days ago

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sam!! my love

thinking about stanford!sam… studying with him, but its more hes studying and your staring at him just wanting to get dicked down

moral of the story sam cant say no to you and finally lets you have him

same vibe as like teasing under the desk in a meeting

oh youre a fucking genius thank you so much for this image

sugar

warnings: afab!reader, nerdyyyy flustered sammy, almost sucking him off?, spit stuff kinda, size kink if you squint, riding, lots of petnames, reader is a big tease

wc: 1k - nsfw content below the cut 🍭

sam was never the most popular guy at school, he was just another lanky, sarcastic, and awkward nerd. always studying and prepping for you dont even know what, always just kinda sitting in the back of the class listening intently.

and that just made you want him more.

so thats how you ended up in his dorm, watching your boyfriends expressions change with each problem on the page. god the way his huge hands twitch along the paper, the veins in his forearm popping as he grips the pencil tighter, his neck-

“you paying attention?” he spoke sounding almost disappointed as he catches you drifting off. “uhhhhhhhh…. ok sammy im sorry” you fold instantly not being able to lie to him. “seriously.” he shakes his head and looks back at the paper.

“its just you look so good right now.. i need you baby” your voice got quieter as your sentence went on. hes choosing to ignore your cries, not out of malice but out if pure commitment to his studies, “pleaseee” you whine out shuffling in your chair, pressing your thighs together just trying to get any friction you could.

“this is really important” he mutters to you, not even raising his chin. the look of determination in his eyes, hes soooo fucking smart and you love it, you love being able to just turn your brain off around him.

ok its all just becoming too much you need to do something.

thats how you found yourself lowering yourself to the ground to rest on your knees, your sharp nails run across his thighs as you lick you lips in preparation. “uhh..what-what are you doing” hes flustered.

“just keep working baby just wanna-“ all you can do is look at him with big begging eyes for only a few seconds before they move down to the bulge in his baggy jeans, fingers going to play at his belt, “wanna take your big, big c-“

“ohhhh-haha-no ok no jokes over get up now..” he pants out, wheeling his chair away for a moment. you could tell this was getting him riled up, his eyes filled with sheer lust at seeing you like this all for him.

“you dont wanna be in my mouth, sammy?” you look down with a pout, slowly standing up, peeling off your tight tshirt in the process. his jaw is agape as he leans back in his chair just watching you.

“you dont wanna feel all of me- see all of me?” your fumble with the button of your shorts before letting them slip down off your ankles.

you walk towards him like a panther to its prey, “you dont want that?” you whisper as you hover above him. as you look down you see his bulge has grown to a stiffer, tighter point. “please” is all it took for him to say before you ripped him up from his seat and throw him onto the bed.

straddling almost instantly leaving sloppy kisses all over his face, “of course i want that sweetheart- i just- get busy - you know that” he rushes out between kisses. “mhm” you buzz uninterested as your hands find their way to his belt again, “take you shirt off.” you say with urgency.

pulling it off his head with no problem he throws it to the corner of his room, where hed eventually lose this shirt due to the lack of care. you finally get to his zipper just begging to feel him, your fingers dip into his boxers and pull him out entirely.

“shit-there it is” you moan softly with dark eyes, “ohh god ok-“ sam whimpers as you hold him in gently in your hand, beginning to stroke him up and down as you move off of him to let your mouth hover above it.

his hands come to your hair, bringing it together to hold it all in a tight fist, “mmmgod shit” the curses leave his lips just as yours leave sweet kisses to his tip.

you moan as you lick all the way up his dick, letting all your saliva drip out the corner of your mouth wanting, needing to make a mess all over him. you lower your mouth onto him slowly sucking a few inches, just enough to tease before pulling your mouth off with a pop.

“god i cant fucking take this-get up here” he throws his head back with a moan as he yanks your head up before releasing you completely just to grab your hips to straddle him.

“what’re you do-mm“ before you could even think your panties are pushed to the side and hes sliding you down onto him with loud noises coming from the both of you. he bottoms himself out making you feel complete and so so good.

with urgency now he starts pumping himself up into you with ease as he hold your hips steady above him, “fuck me s’good-“ your eyes roll back as the sensation takes over, you cant believe this is how sam winchester is in bed, quiet, awkward, smart sammy.

after awhile of him helping you out as his chest gets mauled, meaning you scratched the living shit out of it, you start to bounce on him at what seems the fastest you ever have.

“s’close-s’close-dont ever stop-so fuckin’ tight” sam likes to ramble when hes close, he gets all nervous and blushed, his hands grip onto your tits just a little tighter. “yeah? want me to fuck you harder?” an audible whine leaves his lips, so that means yes.

your ass slaps against his hips with a loud slap over and over and over and “ohgod-agh fuck fuck” you squeal at the white hot sensation you gave into. “cum baby im cumming i am i am-“ the sound of your noises and the raw flesh slapping against each other were obscene.

pants were all you heard as you came down never getting off of him just grounding yourself until you saw him smirk and rub gentle circles on your hip. “you wanna get food?”

i hope this wasnt toooo self indulgent this was the best ask everrrr thank so so much!!!

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frankiesweird · 6 days ago

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I GOT COVID FOR THE SECOND TIME BRO 😭☹️☹️

#frankie talks

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frankiesweird · 6 days ago

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everytime dean winchester cries during sex, an angel gains its wings. it's the praise that gets him. it's always the praise, the gentle way you soothe him with your sweet words. your so soft n warm and his brain has turned to absolute mush, face buried in your neck and him buried deep inside you. it's slow and tender, the way his cock drags against your walls, the way your hands roam his broad back to his lil waist, squeezing his hips and moaning softly in his ear. but the tears don't well up until your mouth starts running.

"feels s'good, baby. my pretty baby, all f'me. jus' like that, so perfect. y'so perfect, dean, so fucking good ohhhh fuck!" and christ, its almost too much for him, his hips stutter and pace speeds up, whining and whimpering into your neck, but it feels so good you can't shut the fuck up. "such a good boy f'me, my baby. y'so beautiful." the tears spill over, he's getting so overwhelmed but he wants more and more and more :(( he tries to respond but all he can manage between soft moans is incoherent babbles and your name over and over, the only thing he can or needs to think of right now is you.

"you like being good for me? y'love me? i love you- fuck, dean! i love you, i love you, i love you-" your orgasm washes over you and god, your poor baby, big fat tears are rolling down his cheeks n his long lashes are damp. he can't help it, can't even help the way he spills into your cunt, whimpering against your warm, soft skin, whining when he pulls out. you feel the hot, wet tears on his cheek and coo at him, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his temple. he grumbles something against your neck but it trails off, already melting into you.

he's a touch starved little thing, craving your affection and fondness. it isn't hard to love a pretty sight like him, and he loves the way you love him. he loves the way you know how to scratch that itch he has, loves the way you coddle him n call him your baby, the way you like him with an empty head. you love him with an empty head, all floaty n sweet, full weight collapsed on top of you and pressing kisses to your skin as long as he can keep his eyes open. it's real hard though, the way your holding his so lovingly, running your fingers through his hair and rubbing his back, gently stroking his skin with your thumbs. before he gets too sleepy, he mumbles to you "love y'so much, sweetheart. my girl."

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frankiesweird · 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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frankiesweird · 6 days ago

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Have you had any recent nsfw thoughts abt Sam winchester?

Yes… always…. I think he is always touching you, hands on your hips or resting on the small of your back, guiding you through crowds or haunted houses, just always with a hand on you. He’s even worse when the two of you are in bed/not in public, hand on your stomach, dipping into your jeans as he kisses you lazily.

That’s another thing. Sam Winchester is a KISSER. It’s his favorite thing in the world. He will always be down to make out. You’re scared? “C’mere, angel, let me make it better.” And he’s kissing the breath right out of your lungs. You’re bored in the motel with nothing to do while Dean goes to grab dinner? “I have an idea,” with a shit-eating grin as he coaxes you into his lap. He loves a lazy make out, just grinding and grabbing and touching and feeling.

#bringbackdryhumping was actually invented for Sam Winchester. If there is something he enjoys more than giving head, (which, let’s face it, there isn’t) it’s dry humping. He fucking loves dry humping. Trust me on this one guys. Dean has walked in on the two of you dry humping a few times and has since started knocking really loud before entering rooms where the two of you are alone together. And then waiting for about a minute so you can get untangled.

Sam likes having his hair pulled, will whimper and whine and beg and plead. He’s a whiner. He loves to whine. He loves to give you big wide puppy dog eyes if you’re on top and then he will beg really pretty. He loves when you ride him or even just take control in general- he’s a switch at his core so he can go either way, but something about watching you do whatever you want to him gets him going.

I love you Sam Winchester please come home. Please. Please

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frankiesweird · 6 days ago

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sam winchester x fem!reader

tramp sammy stamp

description: your tattoo artist friend suggests doing a 'random' henna tattoo on your lower back out of boredom. when you return to the motel, your semi-permanent tramp stamp practically turns sams brain into mush. reader has 'sammy' on her lower back aaa (::>_<::) warnings: no nsfw, but slightly suggestive, fluff. spn masterlist

You and the boys were on a hunt in your hometown, so you figured you’d give your childhood friend a visit. Sam and Dean were oblivious to the fact that she knew you were a hunter. The poor girl had been caught up in one too many of your half assed lies and near death experiences when creatures had decided to hunt you back; so naturally, the secret had to get out somehow.

Her tattoo studio was tucked between a shuttered record shop and pawn store on the edge of town, its windows fogged by condensation. It was dim, but cozy in its own way. The walls were a patchwork of old band posters, ink designs pinned like sketches in your hunter journal, and a few faded Polaroids of past clients who’d braved bolder choices.

You were curled up on a faded leather couch in the front room, a chipped mug of hot chocolate cooling in your hand.

She was finishing a walk-in tattoo, leaving you to your thoughts, until your phone buzzed quietly on your thigh.

Sammy (2:43 PM)

Just checking in. You doing okay?

You smiled and gave him a call, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Sam echoed on the other end, his voice soft and familiar. There was a quiet rustle. Paper maybe, or an old book, then a sigh. “Just wanted to make sure you got there alright.”

“I did. She’s finishing up a piece. I’m just chilling here waiting,” You reply. "It was snowing a little last time I checked. You keeping warm?" He asked. “Yeah. Hot chocolate’s questionable, but it’s hot.” you chuckled softly.

He huffed a short laugh, and you could picture him, probably hunched over an old lore book, elbows on the table, sleeves rolled up.

“That’s good.” A pause. You could hear Dean faintly in the background, and the distant creak of motel floorboards. “I miss you.”

That pulled at something quiet inside you, making you smile, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Alright,” he murmured. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Bye Sammy.”

You ended the call just as your friend stepped back into the room, tugging off a pair of gloves. She eyed your expression with a grin.

“Sammy? That your guy again?”

You nodded. “Just checking in.”

She grinned, amused, “He’s the moose, right?”

You lifted a brow, “Moose?”

She smirked. “Tall, broad shoulders, hair like he lives in a forest?”

You paused, “Huh, I suppose he does look like a moose.”

She plopped down in the armchair across from you. “Yeah, I've see him and his brother around town. He seems good for you.”

You exhaled slowly, “He is. He’s smart and sweet. Sometimes it’s like he’s thinking five steps ahead but never makes you feel behind.”

“Bagged yourself a fellow nerd.”

“Yeah,” You sigh dreamily, “A cute nerd.”

She chuckled before leaning back, tapping her chin, “You bored?”

You shrugged, “A little. Why?”

“Wanna let me give you a henna tattoo?”

You hesitated, then gave a faint smile. “Ah, why not?”

“Dealer’s choice?”

You nod, "Yeah. I mean I trust your artistic instinct." She perked up at that, "Let's do one on your lower back! Like a cute little tramp stamp?"

“Go ahead," You shrug. "Something small though.”

You shifted to lie down on your stomach, pulling your blouse up just enough to give her space to work. The cool touch of henna paste startled you at first, but the process was slow and relaxing, the way she always was when she had a brush in hand.

She didn’t tell you what she was painting. Just chatted with you idly and occasionally adjusted your shirt. When it finally dried and she wiped off the excess, she handed you a mirror and let you see it.

A delicate bunny and moose, outlined with just enough detail to make them whimsical, sat in the small of your back. Above them, written in careful script: Sammy.

“You know what? This is the most wholesome tramp stamp I’ve ever seen.” You laughed quietly. “Why the rabbit?”

She grinned. “Hm, I guess you remind me of one. And like I said, that Sammy of yours is obviously a moose.”

You glanced back in the mirror, the figures sweet and strangely personal. “It’s adorable, thank you.”

“Anytime.”

By the time you two finished catching up it was getting late.

As you gathered your things, your friend caught a peak of the tattoo and snickered,

“Something funny?” You sassed, slipping on your boots and looking back to her smug expression.

“Sammy's gonna love it,” She whispered as she pulled you into a hug.

“Shut up,” You grumble, though you hugged her tighter anyway.

By the time you returned to the motel, the sky had dulled into twilight, the clouds washed in violet and gray. The scent of motel soap clung faintly in the air, and you could hear the bathroom fan running. Dean was probably washing up, taking advantage of the steam showers the receptionist was raving out. Sam was sat at the table, a book open in front of him, lamp light catching the edges of his hair.

He looked up as you came in. That quiet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey. Have fun?” He asked, voice soft, eyes already on you like you’d been gone longer than just a few hours.

You nodded, toeing off your boots. “Yeah. She just wanted to catch up for a bit.”

“Mm.” His eyes lingered on you, then dipped back to the book, fingers absently turning a page. “Can you grab that old journal from the top shelf? The leather one with the green spine.”

You crossed the room, lifting your arms to reach the shelf. The hem of your shirt rose slightly with the motion.

And that’s when you heard it.

A sharp inhale. The sound of paper crinkling under a suddenly too-tight grip.

You turned, journal in hand. Sam was staring, not in the way he meant to, more like his eyes had found something and were refusing to let go. His mouth parted slightly, brows drawn like he couldn’t quite process what he’d just seen.

“Sam? You alright?” you asked, beginning to worry that he’d seen some sort of vision.

He blinked fast, dragging his eyes up to yours like he was trying to catch up. “What? Yeah—I’m fine,” he said, voice wavering. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the book like it could ground him. His leg had started bouncing.

You nodded, still unconvinced, but you didn’t wanna push it. You crossed the room to hand him that book he wanted, before getting ready for bed.

A few minutes later, you lay on his bed, facing him to get some shut eye, it was weird, but sometimes just watching work or do something quietly helped you fall asleep.

“Hey—did you...get a tattoo or somethin’?” he asked after a moment.

You glanced over your shoulder, then remembered, “Oh. Not a real one, it’s just henna,” you shrugged. “We were bored, so she gave me one.”

“Oh,” he nodded, lips pressed together like he didn’t trust them to say more. But his fingers fiddled with the corner of the page, restless.

So it was the tattoo that rattled him...

You felt a little grin tug at your lips, wanting to revel in the attention a little more. So you got up, padded toward him and lifted your sleep shirt just enough to show him the full thing, “Do you like it?”

Sam blinked, mouth opening, but nothing came out for a second. "Sammy?"

He cleared his throat when you turned back around, eyebrows quirked at his dazed expression.

“Yeah, it’s hot—or cute. If that’s—what you were going for…” He sputtered.

“Thanks,” you bit back a laugh. "So when are you gonna finish up?" You asked, sitting on his lap to push the brown locks out of his face, grinning at the way his shoulders slumped and his eyes closed, seemingly melting into your hands. "Mm, I don't know, soon," he murmured, face tilting to give your wrist a little kiss. "Could've gotten a real tattoo in all the time you've been sitting here," you chuckled. Sam's head was nearly lolling back, sleep beginning to overtake him as you continued to gently stroke his hair when you leaned into his ear to speak again, “I was never into tramp stamps but, I don't know, this one’s like my little Sammy stamp,” You whisper. His big brown eyes shot open. You could practically hear the gears grinding in his head as he tried to process what you just said. You weren’t sure if it was the nickname, the location of the tattoo, or the casualness in your voice, but something short-circuited in that big beautiful brain of his.

You leaned down, lips almost brushing his.

And then—

You pulled back with a soft yawn, blinking sleepily as you got up off his lap. “I think I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”

Sam stared up at you,

"Wha—Seriously?” his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

You stifled another yawn, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning too obviously. “Yeah, it’s late and I’m tired.”

He gave you a flat, betrayed look, the corner of his mouth twitching in spite of himself. “You—” He scoffed, falling back against the chair back, “You planned that, didn’t you?” He was met with silence as you settled on the bed with your arms folded under your chin. The hem of your shirt rode up again, but you didn’t bother adjusting it, resting your cheek on your arm with a barely concealed smile and close your eyes. You let him stew in it, content in the knowledge that your little tattoo was doing exactly what your friend hoped.

Sam tried to read. Really, he did. But he kept tapping the same sentence with his pen. He felt his gaze drifting again, never quite landing, but never quite staying away either.

His thoughts were a mess.

Yeah, maybe it would fade, but it was his name. On your lower back. In a spot usually reserved for something…private.

And you looked so damn content. Like it didn’t even occur to you that it might be even the slightest bit suggestive.

…this ones like my little Sammy stamp

He groaned under his breath, before rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the page harder, “Sammy stamp...” he muttered with a huff, "Christ."

A few hours passed and Sam was finally calmed down. Dean had long since emerged and flopped onto the far bed, snoring within minutes. Sam finally shut the lore book, brain too fried to keep going.

Sam turned, and there you were. Curled into his bed, face smushed into the arm tucked under your cheek, the other draped loosely off the edge.

He moved quietly, slipping in behind you. The mattress dipped under his weight as he settled in, his body curving gently against yours. His hand brushed your back lightly, the way that usually helped you stay asleep. Then his fingers dipped to trace the soft shapes adorning the small of your back.

He hadn’t really looked at the design earlier, been too busy short-circuiting over his name. But now, in the moonlight peeking through the curtains, he saw what was etched below his name: a little rabbit, leaning up to a moose.

Sam's fingers gently pressed on the animals. He tilted his head, it sorta reminded him of the two of you. Then he huffed in amusement as the realization hit him, of course it was you and him.

He tucked his nose into your shoulder and closed his eyes, the steady rhythm of your breathing slowly pulling him under, falling asleep behind you with a little smile on his lips.

don't be shy, lmk what you think ! `(*>﹏<*)′ justice for tramp stamps frl, if i could get a tattoo, i'd get one there. they can be so dainty and cuttte. i'm still working on the fairy!reader fics for sam and dean + some requests i've gotten :)

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frankiesweird · 7 days ago

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18+ MDNI | thinking about how needy and touchy dom Dean gets when he wants to eat your pussy..

You’re laying in Dean's room, his head rests on your stomach, his large frame nestled between your thick thighs, as you slip your fingers thru his soft hair. His need to taste you grows with every touch, squeezing you as he pulled you tighter against him. “need to taste you so bad” he continues as his emerald eyes gaze deeply into yours.

You give him a lingering, approving glance while softly biting your lips as he slowly trails down your mound, his stubble rasping against your skin. The aroma of your arousal fills his nostrils, making his cock throb against the sheets. He couldn't believe how fucking wet you were, how eagerly your greedy little cunt was about to leak all over his face.

As he lowers himself, he gasps at the sight in front him. You’re in nothing but a t-shirt, pussy glistening for him. As you wait for his next move. Dean abruptly licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, savoring the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He swirls his tongue around your clit, as you grip his soft hair in your hands.

Then suddenly, he jerks back just enough to lock eyes with you, a dark, twisted grin playing on his lips—before spitting on your clit without a word. You gasp at the sudden sensation, a sharp cry escaping your lips as he resumes without hesitation.

"You love having your pussy eaten, don't you, baby? Love feeling my tongue sliding deep in your tight little fuckhole?" Dean purred, his breath hot against your slick folds. "I bet you'd let me eat this pretty cunt anytime, anywhere. Even if i layed you out in the middle of the bunker where anyone could see us, I know you'd spread your legs for me and let me bury my face in your pussy." You nod and whimper in agreement, legs shaky at the mixture of sensation and filthy words coming out of deans mouth. "Look at you, baby. So fucking desperate for my tongue. You’re just as needy as I am to devour this creamy pussy." Dean growled, continuing to suck your clit between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. “Feel good sweet girl? Yeahh bet it does."

He could feel your thighs trembling around his ears, hear the needy little whimpers and moans spilling from your lips as he continues. The sounds spurred him on, making him double his efforts to drive you crazy, spitting on your pussy, fucking your hole with his tongue and making you come undone. Showing you how desperate he really is for you.

"You're mine, baby. This perfect tight hole... it's all mine. And I'm gonna spend the rest of my life worshipping every inch of you. Gonna make you cum on my cock and my tongue until you can't fucking see straight, You want that baby?"

Dean vowed, his voice rough with desire. You look down at Dean slightly nodding in approval. “Cmon sweetheart, need to hear more. Wanna hear how bad you need my cock sliding in and out of you..” he says rubbing up and down your thighs. “Fuck Dean I need to feel you please” you say in desperation. He could feel his need growing, his balls aching with the urge to fill you up. “That’s my girl”. He smirks leaning off your thighs to unbuckle his belt as you lean back waiting for his next move.

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frankiesweird · 8 days ago

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PAIRING: james kelly x reader

genre: FLUFF ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

There is absolutely no privacy in the Monroe household anymore. SAM MONROE knew it. You knew it. The bathroom door knew it. Not when there was a little short glimpse of a human being who loved to follow everyone around. Nothing would stop a light pitter-patter of determined feet.

Sam swore he was just brushing his teeth. He had to make a stern comment about vinnie having "space issues" and "no respect" for those who gave him life. You'd roll your eyes at his dramatics before gently prying vinnie from Sam's leg. But now, he was not even halfway through the minty foam when he heard it-that tiny little drag-drag-drag of socked feet against the wooden floorboards.

He squinted before gazing down at the narrow crack under the door... and saw two little feet. And—what the hell?—heavy breathing.

“...Vinnie?” he asked, mouth full of toothpaste.

A soft knock. “Thammy?”

A sigh slipped through his nose. “Buddy, I’m brushing my teeth. Gimme a sec, yeah?”

He got silence; as if the little guy had been proceeding the given information. Did it mean Sammy is ready to cuddle? Or maybe..he wants space? But..space is where the sky is..

“Can hold han’ies now?” he whispered, breath all foggy against the door. “Jus’…one?”

With a groan, he let his toothbrush clatter into the cup. Quickly he turned on the water, rinsed quickly, and opened the door. Here he was; Vincent, in his little cloud-printed jammies, one hand stretched up in a dramatic, solemn plea, while looking up at sam with those eyes.

“Han’ies pwease…”

Sam’s heart physically lurched in his chest.

“…God, you’re dramatic,” he muttered, scooping the baby up. But his voice cracks a little. “C’mere, Romeo.” Vinnie clinged to him immediately, arms around his neck, cheek squished to Sam’s shoulder. He breathed a little sigh of relief like, thank god—contact restored.

“I wuv you, Thammy…”

Sam didn't even respond. Just kissed his head and breathed him in like he might never let go.

BUNNY'S TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyles @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake @skywalkerssgirl @fredswrite @mvst4far @alealuvshayden @kandralice @prettiestmini @loliskywalker @amiratheangel

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frankiesweird · 9 days ago

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PAIRING: Spiderman!sam monroe x vinnie x reader

genre: FLUFF ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

| i had a request about Spiderman!sam with vinnie..its a lil prequel |

The daycare was loud. SAM MONROE did the most social thing ever known for someone like him - attended to one of the public daycares in the city to talk about being a hero. He wanted to vomit at the thought of that. But SPIDER-MAN was different; he would let his pride go down a hook to satisfy thirty people with his wild stories.

He had an invitations from all over the place- from preschool to high-school but this one sat on his heart for a while. Especially since a special little guy was attending to it every day.

Now he stood in the middle of the foam-matted room, surrounded by a SWARM of kids—tiny hands tugging at his suit, shrieks of “DO A FLIP!” and “SPIDEY CAN YOU LIFT ME?!” echoing off the primary-colored walls. He could barely breathe through the crowd, but not from the physical chaos—no, he was used to dodging cars and grenades and collapsing scaffolding—but from what he saw past the chaos..

His baby boy.

At the very back.

Pressed against a shelf of toys, still in his little soft Spider-Man onesie with the chest slightly stained from applesauce. His short legs shifted restlessly as he stood on his tiptoes, trying to peek past the other kids. Pudgy baby hands clenched in front of him. Eyes big and round, lips pouting slightly like he was trying not to cry.

He was waiting. Patient. Quiet.

Hopeful it would be his turn. Yet no one noticed him. No one let him through. He just stood there like he didn't think he deserved to push past.

Sam’s heart split open under the mask, bleed through the material. He physically couldn't keep playing this charade. Not while his baby was in the corner looking like the loneliest sweetheart in the whole universe.

So he took a breath, lifted both of his hands, and loudly said;

"Hey! I’m looking for a special kid.”

All the toddlers froze in their spots before erupting in loud chaos that mixed in one full noise of a screamed «me! Pick me!». Sam's ears pulsed with pain. Thankfully it only took one lift of his gloved hand to silent the little shits. He squinted his eyes and began to talk in silence;

“I have heard he’s the bravest boy I’ve ever heard about..He helps people..He eats his snacks politely and shares his blocks.”

The kids began glancing at each other in confusion.

And then Spider-Man crouched slightly and raised his brow “Is there a..Vincent Monroe here?”

Silence. But then an unmistakable squeak; “ME??!” voice all lisped and full of stunned hope. Immediately he toddled forward, crossing all the other kids that gazed at him with kind of shock and envy. But his face didn't stop liting up like the sun, little fists curled tight like he was afraid it was a dream. Sam fought every single instinct to not scoop him up and sob on the floor with the best lil guy he had met.

“I was hoping you could hold my hand for a bit,” Spider-Man said, as gently as he could through the suit, hoping he buried the emotional side of his tone deep enough. “It gets scary in here without a brave boy like you.”

Vinnie’s bottom lip quivered from how serious he took it. He nodded in this big, eager way. He looked down at Spider-Man's extended gloved hand and slowly extended his own hand—warm, all puffy and soft Sam felt like crying.

“I been waitin’ fow you, Pidah-man.” he whispered with the shy smile

“Me too, buddy.” he nearly choked these words out “I came just for you.”

Later, when you came to pick vinnie up (after already knowing what happened; Sam tried not to cry through a phone call with you). After checking in, saying hi to all the parents you knew, you saw your toddler light up at the sign of your glowing face. He said his "bye bye" to occasional kids that he played with (and of course the day care lady) and run towards you like a drunk little penguin.

“Pidah-man said I was b-wave,” he whispered immediately after you wrapped your arms around him. “He said I help people like him.”

You gasped, "Really? Oh, sweetheart, that's amazing!"

He curled into your lap, holding his plastic spider toy tight.

“Do you think Thammy saw?”

“...Maybe he tell Thammy I was goo' boy?”

You kissed his cheek. “I think Sammy already knows, baby.”

“I think he’s real proud.”

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frankiesweird · 9 days ago

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PAIRING: sam monroe x vinnie

genre: FLUFF ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was nighttime now. The room was dim and warm from the sun that shined on the wooden floor. The hum of little lullabies from that same playlist played low as the wind pressed itself against the windows. You were already tucked into bed, reading, letting the boys have their routine.

Sam was in Vinnie’s room—wall aside. Lights dimmed to a sleepy golden glow, stars from a projector scattered across the ceiling. Vinnie was clean from his bath, teeth brushed (Sam fought a whole battle for like five seconds of brushing before giving him to you), wearing those too-small Winnie the Pooh jammies he refused to part with.

They were curled together in the toddler bed, Vinnie’s back against Sam’s chest, Sam’s arms wrapped around his tiny frame. The blanket with ducks on it was kicked off again, like always.

“Alright,” Sam said quietly, brushing Vinnie’s curls back from his forehead. “You get one more identity tonight. Just one. What are you now? Not a car. Not an apple. Not a dog.”

Vinnie turned in his arms a little, looked up at him with the softest eyes. His lips pouted thoughtfully before muttering

“I’m… Thammy.”

Sam blinked. “…What?”

Vinnie smiled sleepily. “I YOU!” He pointed at Sam’s hoodie, his rings, then touched his own chest with those chubby hands. “I no wea' blak but-but i sit like this.” He folded his legs criss-crossed, completely wrong. “I fink… and I go ‘hmph.’”

Sam choked on a laugh, caught so off guard. “I do not go hmph,” he muttered.

“Yuh huh,” Vinnie insisted, poking his chin up. “Like dis.” Then he did it—arms crossed, frowning, tilting his head with a dramatic sigh.

"Now you're being judgy"

But Vinnie just giggled and curled back into him, soft and clingy. “…Why you wanna be me, huh?” Sam asked after a second, quieter now. His voice a little scratchy.

Vinnie didn’t even think about it. “Cus you ‘tay wif me when I cwy.”

“An’ you say no bugs when I sweep.”

Vinnie kept going in a sleepy slur of words. "You give me ketchu wif fries,” he mumbled. “An’ you read all da pages even when I say no mo'. An’ you go mm-mm when da food is yummy. I go mm-mm too." He started to play with his little fingers "An' Thammy wuv da mommy an hug hew when she sad an--an yu tell hew she botiful an she smiles wiiideeeee..I wanna make mommy tho huppy like thammy do"

Sam was losing it. Like actually losing it. His throat clenched. His hand was on Vinnie’s tummy now, rubbing slowly, grounding himself.

“…You don’t wanna be me, buddy,” he whispered finally, brushing his nose against Vinnie’s hair. “I ain’t all that.”

Vinnie pulled back to look up at him again, tired, serious.

“You da best daddy,” he said firmly. “I be Thammy. Like you.”

Sam’s eyes were glossy, disgustingly shiny. He had to look up at the ceiling to blink it away. He let out a breath and nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Fine. You win.” he put a soft kiss on Vinnie’s forehead.

“You be me. But you gotta grow into the rings and hoodie first, lil man.”

Vinnie smiled. “Wanna wear chain too.”

Sam snorted. “Okay. We will talk about that later. For now, you can wear your pasta necklace from daycare.”

Vinnie giggled one last time before cuddling back into him. And Sam held him tighter, heart aching and full, just them, just the dark, just love.

“…Still better than being a damn apple,” Sam muttered into his hair.

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frankiesweird · 9 days ago

Note

Wait okay okay so put this one above my Scott request

Giving Stephen a really super nasty blowjob and he cries yeah

KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT ℘

Lately, you've been getting off of work late at night, and Stephen was picking you up. You told him he didn't have to, but he always insisted because he loves you so much and doesn't want you to fall asleep on the drive back if you're behind the wheel. No, it was fine that he had to wake up in the middle of the night to pick you up. More than fine. He knew you needed the rest after such a long shift.

So here he is, inside the car at the empty parking lot, waiting for you to come out. He was still very tired, and he came 20 minutes early just so he could rest in the car for a while. He set the seat backward so he could lay down. 20 minutes went by in a flash. You knock on the passenger window, and his finger travels to the unlock button without even glancing to see who it is. It's not a smart idea, but he recognizes those knocks.

“Steve, I told you I could just drive myself.” You sigh, getting into the car and watching how his chest peacefully rises. “No.. you're tired. Im fine.” He groans and stretches. “I just got here a little early, and I left my phone at the house. So.. there wasn't anything else to do.” He removes his glasses to rub his eyes. “Just, um, give me a few minutes to wake up.” He puts his glasses back on and stares at the car ceiling.

“I know what'll wake you up.” You say mischievously with a small smile. “What?” He asks calmly but shudders and gasps as soon as he feels your finger unbuttoning his pj pants. “Babe!” His gaze quickly fixated on your eyes with a nervous look in his. “R-right now? We're outside!” His tongue darts out to moisturize his lips. “We're the only ones here, just relax.” Stephen groans in complaint but makes no move to stop you. “Come on. That alone woke me up. Let's just go, yeah?” He's really nervous about being caught. Stephen attempts to sit up from the seat to readjust it to normal, but you press his chest down for him to lay again.

“Honey, please? Please dont do this right now. This is.. embarrassing.” Stephens cheek flush pink, and his eyes dart around the parking lot. Yes, there was no one around, but what if the other two people you were working with come out any second?!

He kept worrying until your soft hand pulled his length out of the hole of the pj's. Stephen watches, biting down on his lip. He was quiet now. No more complaints. “Stevie, you're hard.” You say softly. “Mm-well.. yeah..” He looks away. Slowly, you start to stroke him, and his head falls back against the headrest. “Shit. You're a pervert.” He mumbles. “Couldn't just wait until we got home or anything. We would have been there by now.”

“Im sorry, babe. I just couldn't stop thinking about you today.” Stephen exhales through his nose and swallows a chunk of saliva. “Oh God. You know you can't talk to me that way.” He says in a breathless whisper. “No, really.” You move your hand faster. “I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you when I saw you. I was so wet in the office today that I couldn't help myself.” He knew what you meant by that, and it made him even hornier. “Can you do that thing you do..” He moans.

Stephen's pants were now pulled down to his thighs. No boxers. He doesn't like to wear them when he wears the pj pants. It's easy access in case he needs to go to the bathroom. The car was filled with his and your moans. The glass was fogged up. He has his hand tangled in your hair. “I dont wanna!” He whines. He's been dragging this blowjob on for at least 10 minutes. He doesn't want to cum yet. He feels like he should last way longer than that since you were thinking of this all day.

But the way you choked on him as you made eye contact and spit dribbling at your chin was making it hard for him to continue holding back. Your tongue wrapping around the sensitive tip. He also liked feeling a little bit of your teeth. It was unusual, but right now, it was amazing. “Nggh..” He whimpers. “I wanna cum on your face. Can I, please?”

You continue sucking—choking, until he moans out that he was about to cum. You release his cock, and he whines at the loss of your warm, gummy throat until you start to stroke him again. Within seconds, he comes undone on your face with a shudder and soft moan. He sits up on an elbow and pants softly while staring down at your face. “Jesus.” He whispers and collects a finger pad full of his cum and jams it into your mouth. Then he inserts another finger, making you bob your head on them. “.. We couldve been home. Comfortable in the bed.”

You roll your eyes and release his fingers. “If we were at home, I would go right to slee instead.” Stephen sighs and digs for a napkin in the storage compartment. As soon as he found one, he wiped your face with a small smile. “Maybe I can help you stay up a little longer when we get home.” Stephen always likes to return the favor as soon as possible. He never allows you to help him get off without letting him do the same after.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaas-xo @anakinca @dollfilmz @gothams-sweetheart @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne @chanelluvstvd @hearts4sammonroe @fratbrochrisgf

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frankiesweird · 9 days ago

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Burning for you! (pt.2)

✧ au!firefighter!dean x small town!reader (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

✧it's the next day. you show up for the photo shoot instead. its getting harder for dean to pretend he doesn't want you....good thing you want him too.

✧double pov, use of y/n, smut, oral (f receiving)

✧ w/c: 3.3k

the morning sun through the window stirs you awake. curtains that you swore you had closed the day before wide open. eyes squinting from the unfiltered rays. your hand searching the bed, the space next to you empty. memories from the night before running through your mind.

dean. you.

your head lifts off your pillow. eyes darting around the room. he’s not here. must have snuck off early this morning. a pang of something hits your chest. hurt? disappointment? your not sure. but as quickly as those feeling had come, they leave. when you spot the mug of coffee on your nightstand.

you sit up. grabbing the mug, taking a sip. still semi warm. which means he hadn’t been gone long. and that oddly made you feel…. better? you stand, coffee still in hand. in a shirt that falls long on your body, the hem at the tops of your thighs. its his shirt. KANSAS FIRE in red sprawled along the back of it.

you almost don’t register the image in front of you. as you stand there looking out your bedroom window. dean. shirtless. as he washes the fire truck. strong arms. his cargos slung low on his hips. dog tags glinting in the sun as he moved. a sheer veil of sweat covering his torso from the relentless morning sun.

you could see the way the muscles in his back flexed as he scrubbed the front grill with a sponge. it should’ve be illegal. somewhere in the towns bylaws. Obscenity: Exhibit A

so you watch. sipping your coffee. eyes following his every movements. memories of the night before creeping to the surface.

he tugs the hose. with the same hands that tugged your hips closer to him. calloused and rough. strong. hard-

god help you.

how did you even get here?

Morning of the shoot - 24 hours earlier

you wake up to your alarm. a knot of nerves already twisting gently in your stomach. you had sent the email yesterday confirming the shoot. and greg was supposed to handle it. that was the plan. thats what you told dean. that was technically a lie.

so here you were. barefoot in the kitchen, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. a half written message to greg explaining the last minute shoot that had popped up completely out of the blue. hoping he could do it. not because you couldn’t. because….

you don’t send the message. deleting the lines. it isn’t that big of a deal. you had gone to school for this. done much bigger projects, harder setups. a bunch of half naked guys in suspenders and turnout pants. please. easy.

except one of those guys was dean winchester. all six-foot-something of hometown legend, now fireman, now problem. with his smirk and his voice on repeat in your head. the way he’d asked “you the one who moved into the apartment across from the station?”. like it already meant something.

you finish your coffee. taking your last sip as you look out at the station from your bedroom window. it sits still. quiet.

the quiet wouldn’t last.

you need your best lens. a fully charged battery, and the steadiest hands you could fake.

Morning of the shoot- inside the station (deans pov)

dean tugged the strap of his suspenders over his shoulder. towel running over his wet hair. all the guys were in the locker room. some were shaving. some showering. grumbling about the shoot. getting camera ready.

9:52 A.M

the guys had been giving him hell about this calendar shoot all night. benny wouldn’t shut up about wanting to be “Mr. July”, ash already called dibs on the station dog, garth showed up with a cowboy hat. it was gonna be a day, thats for sure.

whereas dean… he was distracted. half dressed. already feeling worked up, and not about the camera.

he hadn’t seen her since the photo shop yesterday. his fantasy of her showing up for the shoot was fizzling out. he was just hoping this greg guy would show up and get this over with.

its probably for the best.

still he caught himself walking around the station, peeking up at her apartment window.

then the door creaked open. his gaze shifting. and just like that. there she was. like he dreamed her up and she appeared.

dark jeans. fitted tee. camera bag slung over her shoulder. hair pulled back. her eyes landed on him, and even though the room was full of chatter and commotion he felt like everything was tilting slightly on its axis.

not greg.

her.

his mouth quirked.

he could see benny from the corner of his eye, giving dean a look that said “this her?”, he just shot him a glare and turned to where she stepped into the room.

“well” he said stepping towards her, letting the guys fade into the background. “either greg got a hell of a makeover, or i’m luckier than i thought”

she smiled, it was small, like she was a little nervous. but she didn’t break eye contact.

“something came up, greg's out” she says. “guess your stuck with me”

he looks her over. his gaze was slow and unhurried. his thumb tugging on his suspender strap. “darlin’, if this is what being stuck looks like, i’m not complaining”

The shoot

you were barely five minutes into the shoot when they started cracking jokes.

the firehouse had been scrubbed clean. a backdrop of gleaming red firetrucks and coiled hoses. but the chaos was all charm. grown men in suspenders and half buttoned uniforms stumbling through poses like middle schoolers at their first dance. a speaker blasting a constant loop of AC/DC and dad rock through the station.

you stood behind the camera, adjusting the setting as you snapped pictures. hoping you looked more composed than you felt. especially when he stepped in front of the lens.

dean was all broad shoulders and tan forearms. a teasing smile he wore like it was custom fit. he didn’t flirt out-right. but every time your eyes met from behind the camera, it felt like a dare. like the smiles and the poses were all for you.

he looked damn good in navy. and even better when his shirt came off for the hose and suspenders shots.

“don’t look so smug” you mutter behind the camera. adjusting your angle as he smirks at you.

“not smug y/n” he says. leaning against the side of the truck. all abs and suspenders. “just confident” he adds, throwing you a wink.

you try not to roll your eyes as you snap the pictures. the other guys hoot and holler behind you.

it wasn’t all chaos. you actually got some good shots in between jokes. they all cleaned up well. but when a loud bell interrupted a particularly suggestive pose involving dean and a fire pole, everyone moved at once.

deans voice cut through the noise, commanding and sure. “gear up! ash take the left truck. benny your with me”

you watched them like it was happening in slow motion. their cocky smirks dropped. posture straightened. orders rolled out of dean like it was second nature. efficient. sharp. no hesitation. it was hot. unfairly hot. and you just stood there. off to the side. thighs clenched a little tighter.

they were gone in minutes. tires screeching and sirens blaring.

you were left standing there a little breathless. camera lowered. heart pounding.

and incredibly turned on.

A couple hours later

they came back in waves. sweaty, tired. the shoot started up again after a couple bottles of water and half a pizza. no one mentioned the call they had gotten. like it was routine, cause it was. but you couldn't stop glancing over at dean.

and he noticed.

he leaned in during one of the last shoots. the golden light of the afternoon pouring over his bare chest. his green eyes squinting in the sunlight. he looked like something mythic, godly.

“you get what you need?” he asks. like he didn't know he already looked like every firehouse calendar fantasy come to life.

you hummed, checking your camera. “yeah, i think i have everything”

his grin widened. “hope so, would hate to go through that all again” he teased.

you laugh, shaking your head. hoping your cheeks don't look as red as they feel.

the rest of the guys have slowly started filtering out. laughing and muttering something about dinner. its just dean and you left. you turn to look at him gathering a hose by the truck. the light is too perfect. the way he looks, brows pinched in concentration, too devastating, you cant help but take another shot.

he looks up when he realizes you weren’t done. and when you snap that shot. his hands mid movement. his eyes locked on you. a ghost of a smile on his lips. you want to burn the image into your brain.

“thought you said you had everything you needed?” he asks. voice low, teasing.

“the lights good over there. maybe just a couple more”

he stands. leaning against the truck door like he’s been doing this all his life. like the camera doesn't faze him. but his smirk is dangerous.

“how do you want me?” he asks, arms crossed.

you adjust the lens, trying not to meet his gaze. “confident. like your not trying too hard”

his voice feels gravel low. like you can feel it in your stomach when he responds “sweetheart, i never try too hard”

you roll your eyes. but your pulse races anyway.

he shifts. one boot on the trucks step rail, one arm slung over the door. his suspenders still hang loose. his shirt has been long gone.

you snap a few frames.

“this all your gonna do? look at me through the lens?”

you try to keep your response dry, a far cry from what you were actually feeling. “i’m working”

“and i'm cooperating. deserves a reward doesn't it?”

you glance up from behind the camera. he's watching you like he already knows what your thinking, the thoughts that have been racing in your mind all day.

“what kind of reward were you thinking?” you ask tone light and teasing.

“dinner. drinks. maybe i’ll let you boss me around some more”

you lower the camera just a little.

“boss you around?” you ask, your brow quirked.

“you’ve been doing it all day. pointing and posing me like i'm a mannequin” he says. he's grinning.

you smile. “i didn’t hear you complaining. you seem to follow directions well”

he steps forward. his voice low and hushed. “you have no idea the things i’d let you tell me to do”

your fingers twitch on the camera.

he's close enough that it would only take you two steps to reach him. to touch him. and you want to. god do you want to.

the shoot is over really. this. this is something else. you bring the camera up again. snapping a frame of his face. close and bathed in sunlight. the words he uttered second ago still lingering in the air. laced in his expression.

“that was the last one” you say. oddly a little out of breath. voice soft.

“yeah?” he says, taking those two steps closer to you.

you lower the camera.

“yeah.”

he reaches out. tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. slow. deliberate.

“that mean your off the clock now?” he asks, his eyes never leaving yours.

you nod. not sure if you could trust yourself to speak.

“good” he says. “you up for that drink?”

you smile. nodding your head across the street to your apartment. “i’ve got beer in the fridge. and a smoke alarm that wont stop beeping” you add. tone light, sweet.

he laughs. “oh now i see. this was all a setup”. he’s tugging a KANSAS FIRE t-shirt over his head. you can keep your shirt off, you want to say, scream. but you don’t.

“don’t flatter yourself” you say in mock seriousness. “the battery died yesterday, i just haven’t had time”

you two are already walking across the street, in-step with each other.

“guess it’s a good thing you have a firefighter on call”

Your apartment

the apartment door shuts behind him with a soft click. you drop your keys on the counter, kick your shoes off. everything feels still. you don’t bother turning on the lights, the amber glow from the street lights outside fill your apartment. casting long warm shadows across the floor.

“beer?” you ask. moving towards the fridge. he nods once. following you. you pull two bottles from the fridge. the bottle tops hit the counter with a soft ‘clink’. when you turn to hand him one your fingers brush. it almost sends a chill down your spine. he doesn't take it right away. fingers still touching. and he’s just looking at you.

no banter. no smirking. no pretending.

just this weight between you. the fire thats been simmering, burning, since you’ve laid eyes on each other. that heat you feel when he looks at you too long.

he finally takes the beer from your hand. and he sets it back down. standing in front of you. your back leaning on the counter. your own beer feels forgotten in your hand.

your still. like any sudden movement would break this beautifully crafted tension. his hand snakes around your beer bottle. setting it down on the counter beside his own.

and then he moves.

he steps in, slow. like if he moved too fast you would run away. worse. disappear. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes full of want. it has you hanging on by a thread. his big hands snaking around your waist, tugging you towards him by the belt loops of your jeans. your body flush against him.

“been thinking about you like this all day” he says. voice gruff. low. thumbs still hooked in the front loops of your jeans. the rest of his hands splayed out on your hips. he’s still looking down at you. breathing steady. “the way you look behind the camera. ordering me around. how you bite your lip when you concentrate. drives me crazy”

you swallow at his confession. the weight of his hands on your hips makes your skin feel hot. something coils low in your belly, desire, need…

before you can overthink it, your hand tugs on his t-shirt. bringing his face towards yours. lips crashing. hungry and hot.

the next minutes that pass are a mess of tongue and teeth. moans and sighs that are swallowed by each other. your hands fisting his t-shirt. his hands slipping under your thighs, lifting you without a thought. your legs wrapping around his waist. the kiss never breaking.

his hands hold you up by your ass. big and strong, gripping squeezing. you mumble directions towards your room between kisses. he grunts in approval. he carries you to your bedroom pressing you up against your closed door. you gasp at your back meeting the hard wood. your hands around his neck, grasping the hair at the nape of it. your body pressing into his, hips rolling against him. one of his hands still on your hip, the other snakes up to hold your jaw. his touch was greedy and strong.

there’s nothing gentle about it.

his hand leaves your jaw and finds the door handle. keeping you up as he opens the door and carries you towards the bed.

the dying smoke alarm chirps somewhere in the hallway.

neither of you hear it.

your back hits the bed, and he follows you down. your clothes fall away in pieces. being tossed and discarded. until he's only left in his boxers, you in your bra and underwear. hovering over you, looking down at you hungry.

his fingers snake up your body. hands undoing your bra clasp with practiced ease. fingers snaking beneath the waistband of your underwear. pulling. slow. like he wanted to remember this moment. replay it in his mind later.

he's strong. its not a surprise. but it’s the thrill, the feeling you get low in your belly when he moves you around without breaking a sweat that has you dripping. he grips you by your hips, maneuvering the both of you until he was lying underneath you. and you were straddling his waist. he still had his boxers on. his dick hard beneath you. the thin fabric not hiding much.

“i’ve thought about this a lot” he says. hands smoothing up and down your hips. squeezing. kneading your ass.

“me too” you say. it comes out breathy. like you cant believe he's underneath you.

“c’mere” he says. head tilting slightly.

you look down at him. “come where-”

and before you could finish, his grip on your hips tightens and he practically drags you up his torso. the feeling of his abs rippling along your bare, soaked, core makes a moan slip out of you. the contact, the way his hands move you where he wants you. fuck.

he licks his lips as he watches your reaction to the friction. hands still resting on you. he has your legs bracketing his head. your core hovering over his face. breath hitching at the realization of what he wants you to do.

“are you sure?-” you ask. your body dying for more friction.

“i'm sure, fuck i'm so sure” he says. voice steady. eyes never leaving yours.

his hands tug you down by your hips. his face sinking into you. your hands cover his as your body moves on instinct. rolling your hips. moans slipping out of you. watching as he holds your gaze. urging your hips to move harder, faster. like he couldn't get enough. his tongue lapping at you like a man starved. fingers digging into the flesh of your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises in the morning, it only made you speed up. riding his face, chasing your release as he lost himself in you.

he groaned and it sent a shiver through you. one of his hands slips up your side. cupping your breast as you found a relentless rhythm. rolling your nipple between his fingers. everywhere he touched, kissed, it felt hot. and you couldn't get enough of him.

“dean” his name falls of your lips, breathy, almost a whine. it all felt like too much suddenly. like your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. he only doubled down. the feeling of his stubble between your legs was driving you insane.

“i'm gonna-” and before you could finish he let out an approving hum, and thats all it took. your thighs tightening around his head, body grinding down harder on his face. if you weren't so caught up in your own pleasure you would have been worried you were suffocating him. but he made no protests. didn't stop you. didn't move you. if anything he held you there. until your thighs stopped clenching around him. riding out your orgasm. until you felt slack above him, your thighs burning, body trembling.

in the haze of all of it he pulls you off of him. he's breathing deep. his face glistening with you. licking his lips like he wouldn't dare waste any of it. god you wish you had your camera now, what a fucking picture he was beneath you.

before you know it your not straddling him anymore, he pulls you next to him. your back against his front, his erection still ever present. his arms wrapping around you, leg slipping in between yours. a kiss on your neck, as he smooths your hair from your face.

you don’t even remember falling asleep. the feeling of him, big and warm behind you. the way he held you.

you’d never slept so soundly.

a/n: was hoping to get this out yesterday but work has been kicking my ass...anyway hope you enjoy it!!

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