Happy Reedus

Norman Reedus

Back Down

For the lovely @thing-you-do-with-that-thing who bullied me into writing a fic for this gif set.

John x reader

Words: about 4700

Warnings: age difference, smut, unprotected sex (stay safe irl), cursing, anger, slightly angsty.

Beta’d and encouraged by the lovely @for-the-love-of-dean who helped me smut when I thought I could smut no more. Love ya!

Tags: @deandoesthingstome @katnharper @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @mamapeterson @kittenofdoomage @manawhaat @deansdirtywhore @spnashley @killerofthesouth @aprofoundbondwithdean@supernaturally-potter @nichelle-my-belle @faith-in-dean @mamapeterson @crzcorgi @jensennjared @fandommaniacx @mrswhozeewhatsis

You groaned in frustration, cursing the snoring hunter passed out on the couch under your breath. It was like the sound bounced off the walls in the tiny motel room, cocooning you, forcing its way through the channels of your ears and pierced your very brain. Why couldn’t he fall asleep on his side for once. Looking over at where Sam and Dean were sleeping head to toe on the other twin bed, backs to each other, you had to wonder how they could sleep through it. But then again this had been their childhood, to them it was probably just white noise. Sure your dad would snore after a night of binge drinking when he came back from a hunt, but you could always sneak into the living room and turn the old man lying on the couch over on his side. You stared blankly up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to walk over there and shrug John awake. However, deep down you knew you would never dare. John was not the kind of man whose sleep you disturbed.

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A Hello From John Winchester...

((Holy crap. First one did so well.. hope you guys like John’s note. *gifs not mine.))

Hey there, gorgeous. It’s been a while, huh? I think we need to talk for a second, if you’ve got some time for an old man. Hey, give me a little credit. I know my age.

I’ve heard you sayin’ some stuff that’s got me concerned. Woman like you putting herself down like that? Not somethin’ I’m OK with, personally. Hurts like hell, too. You think I’d be standing here wasting my time on someone not nearly as gorgeous as you? No way.

Everything about you gets me. Not sure if I told you that before, but there you go. I know a thing or two about beautiful women so trust me when I say you fall right into that category. Not even just because you’ve managed to snag my heart… nah, it’s more than that. It’s how.

I didn’t expect you. Says a lot when a guy like me can admit he’s head over heels. Never thought I would be again. But Y/N you managed to change that. Not sure how but hell… I’m a different man with you. That heart of yours is just too damn good. Better than what I deserve I can tell you that.

Each time I see you I think I’ll finally get a hold of myself. Never happens, though. You always manage to give me that look, the one you don’t believe you give me, and it sends chills. Right through my chest to my core. I don’t think I deserve you half the time, but every day you seem to think otherwise.

And your smile? Somethin’ for the history books. You don’t ever know you’re doin’ it either. The way it touches those gorgeous eyes of yours and the way your lips look when you do it. Kills me. You never seem to care when I stare, though. Maybe you don’t notice, though I don’t quite see how you couldn’t.

I guess you don’t believe me when I tell you that you could have anyone. Hey, shut it, I’m speakin’ the truth here, gorgeous. You don’t see what I see. You walk into a room and it ain’t just me lookin’ over. Open your eyes next time and I swear you’ll see it. Just gotta be lookin’. Woman like you deserves to know every damn day she’s alive just how gorgeous she is.

Nuh-uh, quit that. You know what, hidin’ back there like I can’t see you tuggin’ that shirt over you like a dress. I wish you wouldn’t hide, beautiful. World only gets more beautiful with you in it.

C'mere a sec, ok. I wanna see those eyes up close. Hope you don’t mind me brushin’ back your hair. Just can’t help touchin’ you. Hey, don’t you give me that lip, gorgeous. I ain’t sayin’ this to be nice or funny. I’m sayin’ it because you mean the world to me. No one else here can tell me otherwise, not even you.

I hope you get that. You’re not just some pretty face or nice heart, you’re everything. From those freckles you hate (yeah, I saw those) or those stretch marks you hide. Ain’t nothin’ there to be hidin’. Anything the world doesn’t like can go fuck itself, pardon the language.

Now you get out there with that head held high and that gorgeous smile. Everyone deserves to see it.

(So send this to everyone who needs it. And those who don’t. @redlittlefox @aprofoundbondwithdean @spnfanficpond @andwhenitwasclear @little-red-83 @jodyri @flintera @sroberts25 )

Nice and Cozy

Summary: Y/N is always cold and uses tons of blankets, but Sam knows a Hell of a way to warm her up.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut

Word Count: 910

Prompt:  Hi Kas! Congrats on the 1200! I would love Sam, and #24.“How many blankets, does a girl like you need? Because I think four is pushing it a little far.” (I am always freezing! I am ok with smut or so smut, whatever works for you! - @winchesterprincessbride

A/N: This is literally me I am cold all the freaking time and I wish Sam would come and warm me up like this. I hope y’all enjoy!

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Control

Requested by @sadandmeanwinchester: A Dean x reader involving breath play. This is pure porn, no plot.

Warning: smut, breath play, dom!reader x sub!Dean

Word Count: 1500ish

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy sub!Dean as much as I do.

Just being in the same place made your fingers itch to grab him sometimes. He’d smile and wink at the waitress out of habit, or he’d take a turn too fast just because he liked handling the Impala, and you’d have to press your thighs together, resist the urge to sink your teeth into his bottom lip, to smack his ass hard enough to leave a mark.

To put him back in his place.

Because there was nothing better than Dean Winchester writhing beneath you, begging so pretty, freely giving you total control.

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Cheap Thrills

Summary: This is for @cici0507’s Cheesy Songs challenge, and my song was “Ice Ice Baby”. Sam’s off on a hunt, and you’re caught in an embarrassing position. I’m also using this as the entry for my Free Space on @spnkinkbingo.

Pairing: Dean x reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 1734

Warnings: Smut. No excuses.

Square Filled: Free space

*****

You hadn’t really intended for him to catch you doing this, indulging your guilty pleasure, and you weren’t even sure how long he’d been watching you sing “Return Of The Mack” into the mop handle. He’d heard you singing before, of course, but this was…different. This was the worst of the worst - hideous tracks from the nineties that probably should have been burned before they were even released.

And you were even more mortified by the awful dance moves you’d been doing with the mop. The poor thing was probably traumatised. The mop. Not Dean.

His slow clapping had alerted you to his presence, and you’d just about jumped six feet in the air and ruined your pants, letting the abused mop fall to the floor with a clatter. Dean could barely breathe for laughing, and you scowled hard enough to create a brand new wrinkle on your forehead.

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Safe

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 4,000-ish

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, torture, and blood, smut, gentle sex, light body worship (Sam receiving)

Summary: (Set post 12x02) Sam is scared to be with someone after Toni forces him to hallucinate an encounter with her. He wants you to show him that reality is better than the imagination.

The entire car ride back to the bunker, Sam’s quiet. Abnormally quiet. And you know exactly why.

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Oops

Title: Oops

Characters: Sam x Reader

Prompt: “Could you please write a fic where Reader is trimming Sam’s hair and accidentally gives him bangs. But not really short bangs, the long kind that swoop off to the side. Also, she’s wearing Daisy Dukes and a sequined bikini top in the color of the american flag. Smut is optional but reader doesn’t know she’s been flashing one of her nips the entire time.”

Warnings: Swearing, nip slip, Sam accidentally getting bangs, a bunch of smut.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Title inspired by how fucking long this turned out to be when I planned for it to be a drabble. @oriona75, here’s some Sam smut for your bday. Ik I didn’t write it specifically for you or for this occasion, but the gift itself is the fact that I’m posting this today instead of hoarding it for 3 months like everything else I write. @helvonasche @madamelibrarian @cici0507 I know y’all were a part of this, not sure exactly who I should be tagging so I’m just sticking to my forever tags at the end and y’all can pass it along :)

“Goddammit, Dean. I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him as soon as that asshole grows the balls to come back,” you seethed, goosebumps littering your exposed skin.

“That’ll be a sight,” Sam smirked, turning to take you in. He couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at your outfit: short daisy dukes riding low on your hips and a sequined bikini top barely covering your chest in the bunker’s garage. “God bless America,” he finally sputtered, his laughter turning into a yelp when you tugged harshly on his damp hair.

“Keep it up if you wanna be bald, asshole,” you warned, forcing his head straight again as you continued to trim his hair. “I can’t believe Cas helped him.” You muttered angrily, snipping a final snip at the base of Sam’s neck.

“Calm down, Y/n, you can’t be so sure that Cas did help him.”

“Oh, really? So you don’t think Cas helped him? How else do you think he managed this?!” Your voice squeaked in anger as you rounded the boxer-clad, boot wearing Winchester. “Dean took all of our clothes, Sam. ALL of it; except for those boxers you’re wearing and this shit,” you gestured to your ludicrous outfit, “while I was in the shower. Every towel, jacket, blanket, fucking scarf is gone, along with every credit card, cell phone, and car key in this entire bunker. He took it all and left us with no way to buy anything else until he comes back. You really think he was able to do that all himself in fifteen minutes? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

“Uhh, Y/n…”

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Trick Or Treat

Summary: This is for @roxy-davenport’s Halloween Challenge. My prompt is Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones. Halloween is a bad time of the year for Sam, traditionally, but this time around, the reader wants to show him how fun it can be. This is also going for a space on my @spnkinkbingo.

Pairing: Sam x reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Oh boy. This started out as just smut. Now we’ve got Dom!Sam, size kink, dressing up, Daddy!kink, filthy language, fingering, oral, and a measure of fluff just to even it out.

Square Filled: Daddy!kink

Word Count: 3467

*****

For ten years and change, Sam had avoided Halloween. He hated the thirty first of the tenth month with a passion, had done since he was a kid if he was honest, but since Jess…he’d sworn to ignore the holiday, no matter how much candy Dean brought home, and the stupid pranks his brother would play, despite being way to fucking old to do so.

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I love rock n’ roll

Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you continued moving tables and chairs around to sweep the dirty floor of Hoyt’s Bar. You’d never waited tables or cleaned for money, but this was what life had come to in the past month: a new identity, new hair color, new name, new job.

Leaning over the one of the tables to remove leftover peanuts from the surface, you felt something snap your left ass cheek, and you turned around open-mouthed, barely containing an amused smile. You knew it was him, but it’d been so long since he’d been playful you’d forgotten he had a naughty side. Dirty, rough? Yes. Cheeky, playful? Nah. Not after everything you’d been through. Apparently there was something in the air in Oklahoma that was relaxing him a bit.

He looked back at you with raised eyebrows and an innocent expression, raising a white tablecloth and his hands in the air, pleading innocence.

“Sam, did you just slap my ass?” A giggle escaped your lips, and it took him a second to answer because his smile took over his face. As soon as it appeared, though, it was replaced with that smart ass smirk of his.

“Of course not Y/N!” he said, as if he was appalled by the accusation. “The tablecloth did.” He finished with a wink and tossed the wad of fabric toward a nearby table as he stalked toward you. You laughed again, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his, trying to come up with a witty reply but mesmerized by his movements. Though you expected it, nothing could have prepared you for his strong hands going quick around you, the left one squeezing your cheek, pushing you closer to his pelvis, and the other actually slapping you hard enough to sting and made you squeal.

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Like A Virgin

Pairing: Sam x reader

Prompt: 80s ‘Like a Virgin’ by Madonna

Words: 2500ish

Warnings: smut (of course, what did you expect with a song like that!), losing virginity, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

A/N: This is my entry for the Cheesy Songs Decades Challenge by @cici0507. Hope y’all enjoy it! And can I just point out how perfect this gif is!

You nodded your head along to the guitar riffs, enjoying the sweet rock tunes blasting through the Impala’s speakers and hummed the lyrics to yourself. Together with the Winchesters you were driving towards the bunker, coming back from a hunt. The older brother slowed down the car and turned to the gas station, halting next to a pump. 

“Could you grab us some snacks, kiddo?” Dean asked as he shut down the engine of the Impala. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. You swung open your door before you made your way for the gas station. Strolling through the shop, you grabbed a couple of snacks. Chocolate bars, chips, gum, mints… Everything you were craving, was getting carried in your arms. 

As you were waiting in line, you eyed the brothers outside. Dean was filling up the gas tank and Sam, your boyfriend, was leaning against the car with his arms crossed over his chest. It seemed like they were arguing, probably brotherly banter going back and forth. You quickly paid for the stuff in your arms before you joined them again.

When you stepped out of the store, both men shut their mouths and got into the car without another word being spoken. You frowned at their odd behavior. What was going on? Sam was glaring at Dean, staring daggers into the side of his head and his older brother just smirked to himself, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. 

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Falling

Characters: Female Reader x Sam Summary: Sam finds you crying and just wants to make you feel better. Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (male on female, female on male), talk of spanking BUT NO spanking, slight praise!kink, Reader is sad and crying at the beginning of the story, slightly insecure!Reader, fluffy fluffiness Word Count: 6,113

You are an amazingly strong woman. For one, you are a Hunter. That’s hard enough. But you are also an emotional woman. Some people mistakenly believe that being sensitive means you’re weak. They’re wrong. It’s easy to go through life with your heart turned off, without feeling anything, but giving a shit and still going, now that’s not easy.

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Small Town (Southern) Comfort

Prompt: ktr211 asked, “So the reader has been hunting with the boys for quite sometime and she really has become one of the boys. But there is this sort of cold detachment in the way she hunts and she never talks about her past to the boys.They go on a hunt that happens to be in the reader’s old hometown and when she goes to her old dilapidated home suddenly the memories come rushing to her of what happened and she breaks. And Sam literally hugs her so tight and his heart breaks because of the way she cries. And then they bring her back to the motel and she tells them the gruesome story of how she became a hunter( I was thinking maybe she witnessed her family be mauled by hellhounds coz they made a deal idk…) and then Sam comforts her and tells her he will always be there for her.”

Characters: Sam Winchester x female reader; Dean Winchester 

Word Count: 3148

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, traumatic backstory, description of gore, light smut

Author’s notes: I’m sorry this took SO LONG ktr211! I hope it was kind of what you were wanting. It’s a bit different from anything I’ve tried before. And thanks to markofcainn for being a mind-blowing beta as usual. 

‘Y/N? Y/N! you ok with pepperoni?’

Dean’s voice, staccato and a little snappy, brought you abruptly back to the present. You nodded and sank back against the headboard, eyes glazing a little as you flipped channels without any real interest. This time of day - late afternoon - was the cable tv deadzone, the place that fourth-string reality shows and made for tv movies from the 80s went to die. 

Dean hung up and flopped belly-first on the opposite bed, already half-asleep.

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Let’s Not, With The Feelings...

SPN FanFic

~You and Sam have enjoyed a perfect “no strings attached” relationship… until now.~

Sam x Reader

1,962 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Dirty Sam Smut. Sexy times, a little roughish. Drunken Smut.

A/N: Sorry for all the Sam, but… no, I’m not sorry. Not at all.

Your body was relaxed and tingling as you finished the last swallow of whisky in the plastic cup. You were stretched out on the old couch by the motel room door, your hair spread out in a fan behind your head. You were drunk and enjoying the gentle floating feeling that you were experiencing in the quiet room. It had been a long, stupid day and you were happy to have some time to yourself without the Winchesters who had gone out to relax and shoot some pool.

As the quiet void began to lull you to sleep, the door next to you opened and a rather inebriated Sam stumbled in.

He threw himself onto the bed without a word and began pulling off his boots.

“Hey Sam,” you croaked, lifting your head up slightly from the cushion to peek at him.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He laughed with an adorable hiccup.

“Um…you know, chillin’,  killin’… how was the bar?”

“Crappy,” he stood up and pulled his jacket off, tossing aside the denim and then shed his flannel.

“Sam…”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“Why are you stripping?”

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For Dean’s Hands Only, part 2

For the request for a sequel to For Dean’s Hands Only

*Dean-centric

______________________________________________________________

The hunter’s life was tough. Long hours, short nights, danger at every turn. But every now and then, Dean took you out for a proper date. Sometimes it was a movie at a cinema in whatever town you’d landed in, sometimes it was dinner in the fanciest restaurant the concierge could point him to.

But sometimes it was simpler than that—getting a separate room for the two of you and ordering in pizza or Chinese, maybe spending an afternoon out in a park.

This was one of those times. You’d been out hunting a werewolf in North Carolina. The next morning, before you packed up and headed out, Dean drove you out to the beach. The two of you strolled along, hand in hand, before finally plopping down in a semi-secluded spot.

The two of you were quiet, enjoying the sounds of the gulls cawing and other beachgoers enjoying their day.

“You know what I love about you?” Dean asked suddenly.

You laughed slightly. “Please, inflate my ego.”

Dean smiled and brought your hand up, still clasped in his. “I love your hands.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, they’re so much smaller than mine,” Dean said, opening his hand. Yours sat perfectly in his palm, your fingers stretched out against his but nowhere close to being as long as his. Your skin was a little paler than his, a little less calloused. But there was still a little bit of dirt under your fingernails as well as a red scratch on the back of your hand from the hunt. “And they’re always so soft and warm. I love the way your hand fits in mine, the way you cup my cheek and give me comfort just when I need it most.”

“Well, I love the way your hands always make me feel safe. They possess so much strength, yet can be so gentle.”

Dean smiled. “You know the one thing I would change about your cute little mitt?”

“What?”

“That it would be accessorized. With this.” With his other hand, Dean held up a silver ring, a small emerald sitting in a beautiful setting.

Your eyes grew wide. “Dean,” you breathed out. “What…”

“Will you marry me, Y/N?” Dean asked, his eyes shimmering just like the jewel.

“Oh, Dean,” you said, a smile on your face. You lifted your hand from his and cupped his face, pulling him closer to you. Your lips landed on his and Dean’s hands looped around you.

When you broke the kiss a few moments later, Dean stared deep into your eyes.

“That… that was a ‘yes’, right?”

You laughed. “Yes, Dean. That was a ‘yes’.”

Dean smiled as he slipped the ring over your knuckle. “Just as I thought.”

“What?”

“Your hand looks even more beautiful with this ring.”

You smiled. “Just wait until you get your ring. Then your hand is going to look just as pretty.”

“Impossible,” Dean said with a laugh.

The two of you stood and walked back to the Impala, hand in hand. Dean could barely contain his excitement. He loved you and knew that there would never be any other hands holding yours except for his.

You were for his hands, and his hands only, for the rest of your life.

[SUMMARY: Sandra comforts her boyfriend Daryl who blames himself for Glenn’s death.]

Smut/Fluff

Daryl and Sandra.

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History

Request : I would love to see a smut!fic with Negan & the reader having gotten into a really intense argument, then they decide to “solve the problem” by having angry sex? Okok~ (I changed it up a bit, hope you still enjoy it)

Word Count : 2261

Pairing : Negan x Reader

Warnings : Cursing, Smut, Smut, Dom!Negan for a second, Smut.

You should’ve never came, you knew exactly who ‘the saviors’ were. They were Negan’s group. Yes, Negan the asshole you dated before all this shit hit the fan. The walkers, the geeks, whatever you wanted to call them. You met up with Rick at the beginning, helping him from the hospital. You lost them along the way, stumbled upon Negan’s group. They weren’t that big at the beginning, hell Dwight wasn’t even with them. That’s when he first started with the women though. You were on the outskirts of them the entire time, as they built their group.

You’re still not sure how you never got caught, hell you were racking up a major body count as many walkers you came across. You were there when Negan had all six wives, he sure as hell missed you huh? You left after a while, stumbling upon Alexandria, automatically being welcomed in once Daryl noticed you. Staying with them since then. Now here you were in front of Negan’s group, on your knees. Quite funny, Negan would’ve made a joke about that before all this shit.

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