#“GIVE HIM THE BINGO BALL SAM” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cbsghostsmetasandtrevor · 7 days

Text

Trevor's Sam Day

Ghosts Bingo @cbsghostsdaily.

Dynamic & Sam

***

AO3

When Trevor's not himself during his Sam Day, Sam learns that he's more upset after the memorial because he realizes what his 'bros' did didn't just affect him.

***

It’s Friday, which means it’s Trevor’s Sam day. When they set up these Sam days, in which the ghosts agreed that they would bother Sam less and only be allowed to follow her around on their specific day rather than all day every day, Sam hadn’t been terribly sure it was a good idea.

Sam’s agreement to this was only due to the fact that having the general peace from most ghosts on a daily basis was worth having one day with some ghosts that annoy her more than others, like Trevor.

It’s not that she doesn’t like him. When he’s being chill and talking about things that don’t involve his hard-core flirting or gross comments (some of his comments that are more compliments are okay, but he leans into gross on accident a lot), she’s okay with him, but she never knows when the comments will veer into grossness. Thus she’s been helping him stay on the compliment side by keeping a list of his comments and a scale of one to ten on if they’re acceptable.

He's been doing a lot better and focusing more on other fun discussions – although, she doesn’t understand a thing about stocks, and even less about his various travels for business, she does find them interesting.

It was very interesting to see a glimpse into Trevor’s beginnings last weekend when his parents came to visit, and she knows that Trevor’s always been a good guy – giving his pants to Pinkus and not being as on board with his douche-face bros really proved that – but learning how much of a dork he really was and how hurt he was at the idea that his parents divorced because of him really showed the softer side to Trevor that she doesn’t see often.

It's why she wanted to help him get his parents back together – no matter how weird it was, and it worked – the other ghosts watched, which was weird, but then, things got worse. He discovered that he’d been lied to for so long and hurt for his mom going through it, but she thought… knowing it wasn’t his fault that things would be okay.

Trevor’s been rather… quiet ever since. She thought that he’d be happy or more at peace. His parents know about his death, now, and they are proud of him beyond anything, and yet, he’s quiet as he plays with the stress ball that he’s rolling back and forth on the desk and not chattering away like he usually does (sometimes critiquing her business skills, which fair because they are definitely bad businesspeople).

Today, not so much.

In fact, he’s usually super excited for his Sam day (as the ghosts call it), but she had to remind him today.

She only debates herself for a few minutes about if she should say something or not, but ultimately, she wants her ghosts to be happy, so she asks, “You alright?”

“Hmm-mm? Yeah, ‘course.”

“Really? Because you’re being kind of quiet.”

“I thought you liked it when I’m quiet. You’re always complaining about my comments.”

“Not all of your comments – we have a scale, remember?”

Trevor nods.

“And regardless of the scale, you usually chatter on about your life and travels, and that’s interesting to listen to as I work,” Sam offers. “Yet… you’re not doing that today, which isn’t like you.”

Trevor shrugs. “Guess I’m not feeling it.”

“Which brings me back to – are you okay?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Sam frowns, looking at him, where he’s still focusing the stress ball, and rather than push it to the edge where he can then push it back, it falls off the edge and he groans.

She picks it up without hesitating and says, “I thought that seeing your parents and giving the peace of knowing what happened to you would’ve –”

“But they don’t know that’s the problem,” Trevor says, cutting her off. “All this time, I thought they did – somehow, I didn’t realize when we found out what happened last year that it meant that my brother and my parents had no idea what happened to me.”

She’s not sure how to respond to that because, if she’s honest, she’d completely forgotten (until his body was found) that his parents (and brother, who she had never heard of before) didn’t know that he was in her B&B’s lake. Which meant that they spent the last twenty-something years not knowing that Trevor was even… for sure gone.

They had admitted that after a decade they realized he was never coming back and after seven years you can legally declare someone dead. They hadn’t wanted to, but they knew deep down when he missed Hannukah that something had happened… it makes what Ari, the other guy, and her cousin, David’s, actions a lot worse.

“All this time, I thought I did something stupid, and I let myself down, and – and I deserve to be stuck here because I was stupid, but I never thought about my parents or my brother. I thought Ari or some police officer would’ve told them what happened, and they would’ve grieved me and moved on – that’s why I asked you to look up Nicky instead of my parents or brother. I wanted them to move on (and I figured they would have), but it would’ve been hard to see that. To know that they lived happily ever after without me.”

Sam had always wondered about that. She kept expecting Trevor to want the sort-of closure that Pete had, yet, he never did. It’s why, when his parents showed up last weekend, that she had been so willing to practically tell them that he was there (and help him get them back together).

“And yet, seeing them and knowing that they haven’t really been able to move on because they didn’t know that I had absolute bastards for bros, they didn’t know that I was here all that time, dead, and they don’t even know the story now. All they know is I died here twenty-something years ago, and they only discovered the truth because some fisherman fished my skull out of lake. That makes me so angry and frustrated.”

He heaves a loud groan. “They deserved better than that!”

“YOU deserved better than that,” Sam corrects.

As far as she’s concerned, his parents and brother aren’t the only ones that suffered for his so-called bros decisions and just because he was more hurt than angry when Ari visited last year, doesn’t mean that asshole deserved to get off scot-free. The implications of throwing the body in the lake would be enough to ruin his life even if he didn’t go to prison and she honestly felt that’s what he deserved.

“Not knowing could’ve easily been part of what’s holding you back from moving on,” Sam states when Trevor looks confused at the idea that he deserved better. “Maybe revealing the truth would be what does it? I know you were against it before, but…”

She trails off, leaving the offer open.

Trevor looks thoughtful. He’d originally nixed the idea, but that was when he hadn’t thought through the implications of it on his parents and brother. Now, though, he’s angrier than he’s ever been and might be willing to go for it.

“How would we do it? Contact Pinkus and Chet?”

That’s the problem, isn’t it? She can’t exactly say the ghost told her… maybe she could…

“What if you told your own story…”

“Uh, Sam, you’re the only one that can see me,” Trevor states, slowly as if she’s forgotten this basic fact and doesn’t look like a lunatic talking to air all the time.

“I haven’t forgotten, but you have a power – a power that lets you type. You could tell your story because you saw your memorial and you wanted your parents to know what happened. I could find the story and verify some of it with Ari’s weird behavior and maybe contact Pinkus and the other guy and see what happens. It could be told as a ghost story, a conspiracy theory – is it true, is it not? That depends on if they believe in ghosts or not.”

“You’d really do that? Because it could also, like, hurt your business. You saw how Freddie responded to the idea of ghosts…” Trevor asks, eyes wide.

It’s nice that he cares about the business, but she and Jay have already been talking about making it more like a ‘haunted’ B&B and weren’t sure how the ghosts would respond. If Trevor does this, at least one ghost is here and going for it, so he’s likely to get everyone on board.

“We were thinking of rebranding anyway…”

Trevor picks up on what she’s not saying quickly and lights up. “You’re going to make it a haunted B&B?”

She nods.

“Do you how much fun we’re going to have with that?”

“Probably too much fun, and there’s no saying it’ll bring in more business, but … it certainly could.”

“I LOVE IT. Alright, if you’re game, I’m game.”

Sam grins. “Then, let’s get to work.”

***

It’s nearly a month later (because Sam wanted to ‘verify’ the information with Pinkus – who was super excited by Trevor’s story – and Chet – who was decidedly less excited), when the story gets published at the Ulster County review, and to no surprise to either Sam or Trevor, his parents return with his brother in tow the same day it gets published (Sam may have sent it to them via online link).

They ask a bunch of questions, and while Sam is explaining that she was curious and she’d found the letter, Trevor’s using the iPad to send them a message.

Hi mom, hi dad. Hi J-dog.

When he presses the read out loud button, they nearly jump out of their skin, but look at the iPad with almost an awe.

“He does that a lot,” Sam says with a slight chuckle. “I – uh – didn’t know how to tell you that I suspected he was here. Sometimes, he’s left messages, but I wasn’t sure if I really believed in ghosts, and then, I found the story and what happened when Ari came to buy the watch made more sense… I wanted to verify and make sure…”

Esther is looking at her in wonder. “So, when you said that – what if he was in actually there…”

“I believed it was possible and only confirmed it afterwards.”

She glances at Trevor as he presses the button again.

I’m sorry that you didn’t know what happened. That you’ve wondered for over two decades what happened and only I could tell you the truth. So, I had to share my story.

Sam could see the tears in his parents’ eyes, and Jeremy, who looks nearly identical, yet, older to Trevor looks on the verge of tears, too.

“I’ll leave you guys alone. I imagine there’s some things you need to talk about,” Sam smiles and nods at Trevor before leaving. They deserve this just chance in private.

***

It’s sometime later, when Trevor reappears by her side. His Sam day not quite over, and his family apparently gone.

“I wish I could hug you, Sam, or at least be able to cry because honestly, I never thought I would ever get to feel this peace, even after the memorial, and now, I do. … I just… there’s nothing I could do to repay this amazing feeling I have right now and that’s all because of you.”

Sam’s so happy for him. She knows that he deserves good things, too.

Even if he annoys her sometimes.

“Good, I’m glad, Trevor.” She gives him a smile. “You’re not going to get sucked off on me now, are you?”

He bursts out laughing. “Nah, I feel loads better, but I think knowing that I can write to them anytime and still have that connection means I’ll probably stay for a while – they were disappointed I couldn’t come home with them, but being able to write is something that will give us all peace.”

Sam can admit that she’s a little relieved. There’s a part of her that obviously wants to help the ghosts ascend, but there’s also a part of her that wants to keep her new-found family together. “Good.”

“Plus, I am not missing the chance to be a part of a haunted B&B – people are literally going to come here looking for me… gotta have fun with that.”

Sam laughs. “Well, that’s what the afterlife’s for, right? Having fun.”

“It is now.”

“Good, so go have fun – your Sam day is officially over.”

Trevor grins and bows, “Until next time,” before skipping off up the stairs.

He’s finally getting a happy ending while living as a ghost, and she couldn’t be happier for him.

Some ghost’s stories have a happy ending after all, especially if she can help it.

#cbs ghosts #ghosts cbs #trevor lefkowitz #sam arondekar #Ghosts Bingo #Prompts Sam & Dynamic

4 notes · View notes

hannahshattuck · 1 year

Text

Daddy and His Kitten

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Rating: Explicit

Square: G2 - Spread Eagle, O1 - AU: Modern

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Dom Bucky Barnes, Sub Steve Rogers, Sex Club, Anal Sex, Collars, Twunk Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Beefy Bucky Barnes, Daddy Kink, Sex Toys, Butt Plugs, Spreader Bars, Humiliation, Name-Calling, Aftercare, Cuddles

Summary: “My Kitten. My Good Boy. Doin’ everything Daddy tells ya, huh?" “Yes, Daddy.” “Are you ready to give everyone a show? Let all those people out there know that you’re Daddy’s good boy?” “Yes, Daddy.”

Written for @allcapsbingo All Caps Bingo Masterlist

“Are you ready, Kitten?” Bucky purred in Steve’s ear as he clasped the collar around the blond’s neck. “Do you remember what to say if you want to stop?”

Steve nodded, “Yankee.”

Bucky kissed Steve’s neck where it met his shoulder, “Good boy.”

Bucky walked around Steve and admired his boy for a moment. The deep purple rope tied Steve’s arms behind his back and the same colored panties accentuated the younger man’s ass. The front of the panties cradled his cock and balls, which compared to Bucky are small. The thick, black collar with flat circular studs was clasped tight around Steve’s neck without constricting his breathing. Bucky attached the leather leash to the O-ring at the front of Steve’s collar. He wrapped it around his hand, shortening the length which caused Steve to stumble forward.

“My Kitten. My Good Boy.” Bucky captured Steve’s lips in a steamy kiss. “Doin’ everything Daddy tells ya, huh?”

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Bucky licked his lips as he let the leash slowly unravel from his hand. “Are you ready to give everyone a show? Let all those people out there know that you’re Daddy’s good boy?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Steve’s eyes rolled back as Bucky cupped his rapidly hardening dick.

“Then let’s go show them.” Bucky grabbed the end of the leash and gently pulled, a signal for Steve to follow him. The dom led his sub out of the dressing room and through the hallway that led to the main club area.

The club, The Cave, had couches along the perimeter walls with tables every six feet that people can use for anything. Some doms put their subs on the tables for everyone to see as they play with them, something Bucky is about to do with Steve.

Bucky led Steve to the table where some of their friends were. Nat and her sub Clint, Sam and his partner Riley, and Tony, Pepper and their sub Peter. Bucky told Steve to lean over the table which caused his ass to be higher than his chest, the perfect height for Bucky to play with him. Once Steve was bent over the table, Bucky grabbed the spreader bar he had Nat hold for him and attached the cuffs to Steve’s ankles, forcing his legs far apart. Bucky chose a pretty long one on purpose because he wanted Steve spread for what Bucky had planned.

A small crowd started gathering when they saw Bucky and Steve. The two men were popular around the club because of the demonstrations they do on a regular basis. Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled a small bottle of lube and a plug, the latter of which he held in front of Steve’s mouth. “Open.” Bucky commanded. Steve, being the good boy, opened his mouth and moaned when the plug was placed in his mouth. “Get that all nice and wet for Daddy.”

Steve sucked the plug as if he was sucking Bucky’s dick. Without the use of his hands, since they were tied behind him, Steve had to use the table to his advantage. He turned his head so he could balance the flat end of the plug on the table and bobbed his head. The mock blow job was sloppy with the strange angle Steve had but goddammit if he wasn’t going to be a good boy for his Daddy.

“That’s my boy.” Bucky gripped the side seams of the purple lace panties and ripped them causing Steve to moan in protest. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Kitten. I’ll buy you more.” Bucky flipped the cap of the lube bottle and drizzled lube between Steve’s cheeks. Bucky’s thumb spread lube all around the sub’s hole before dipping in. “God, Kitten. This hole’s just suckin’ me in. Does it want to be filled? You get that plug nice and wet?” Steve nodded. Bucky reached around and grabbed the plug.

Strings of saliva connect the plug and Steve’s bottom lip. Bucky wiped the excess saliva on Steve’s cheek and then placed the tip of the plug against the younger man’s hole. The plug itself was smaller girth wise than Steve usually takes but length wise it would just graze his prostate. He also told Bucky he wanted minimal prep so he felt the burn and Bucky agreed but only if a thin plug was used. He didn’t want to hurt Steve in an unpleasant way.

“Alright, gonna fill you now. Remember, use your safeword if you need to Kitten.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Steve groaned as the plug slid into his hole. He squirmed at the burn but a slap to his ass from Bucky made him stop. That was Bucky’s way of warning him to be still so he didn’t hurt himself. Steve gasped as the whole plug slid home. The tip just grazed Steve prostate and when Bucky pushed his palm against the base of the plug, the tip pressed on that special button inside Steve.

“Yeeessss, Daddy.” Steve moaned and tried to rock against Bucky. The older man pulled his hand away and grabbed Steve’s shoulder so he was standing. Steve forgot that the spreader bar was still attached to his ankles and stumbled when he tried to take a step back to press against Bucky.

“Oh, baby. Did you forget about the bar? Ya get that hole filled and just forget everything else, huh? Just a slut aren’cha?” Bucky teases. His hands slid to the front of Steve’s body and tweaked the sub’s nipples. Those small buds felt like they were connected straight to Steve’s dick when Bucky dug his nails into them. Steve’s nipples have always been sensitive to the nth degree and Bucky exploits that knowledge as much as he can.

Steve could feel the fabric of Bucky’s shirt brushing against his hands and gripped it in his hands. Bucky threw the tattered remains of Steve’s panties to the side with one hand while his other hand wrapped around Steve’s dick stroking it to full hardness.

“Look at that little thing.” Bucky looked over Steve’s shoulder at the dick in his hand. “Just a tiny thing. That’s why you’re my boy, huh?” Bucky ground his erection into Steve’s ass. “Feel that, Kitten? That’s a Daddy cock. Not a tiny boy dick like yours.”

Steve’s knee buckled at Bucky’s words. His dick is smaller than Bucky’s, yes, but not by much. But hearing Bucky talk about Steve’s dick like that makes his insides tingle.

“Now why don’t we show this crowd what a good cockslut you are?” Bucky chuckled darkly in Steve’s ear. The dom helped Steve shuffle over to the couch, laying Steve on his stomach. The spreader bar kept him spread eagle and Bucky grabbed Steve’s ass, a cheek in each hand.

Bucky tapped the base of the plug and Steve groaned with every hit to his prostate. Bucky then gripped the base and slowly slid it out, letting the widest part catch on Steve’s rim. The plug wasn’t as thick as Bucky but he knew his boy loved the burn. The dom pulled the plug all the way out and set it on the table. He then grabbed the lube, that Sam so graciously held for him, undid his pants to pull his cock out and lathered it in lube.

“You ready, Kitten? Ready to show everyone what a cockslut you are?” Bucky lined his dick up and slowly pushed into Steve’s tight hole. The warmth that encompassed him made curses fall from his hip. Bucky gripped the rope that tied Steve’s arms and used it to pull Steve’s body on his dick. Everything thrust caused Bucky’s balls to slap against Steve’s and the noises coming out of his boy was telling Bucky he was nailing Steve’s prostate on every thrust. Groans were heard all around Bucky reminding him they had an audience. He saw someone take a few steps to them and Bucky glared at him.

“Mine.” Bucky growled. The man looked like he didn’t want to listen until Sam and Riley stood up from their seats and stared the man down. The idiot made a smart move and turned away with a scoff. Bucky pounded Steve and the blond’s dick swung with every thrust.

“I’m close.” Bucky warned as his thrusts sped up. Steve moaned under him as his dick slapped against his stomach.

“M-me too-oo, Daddyyyy.” Steve whined.

“Yeah? Gonna come when I tell ya?”

Steve nodded.

“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock?”

Steve whined.

“C’mon then, Kitten. Come on Daddy’s cock.”

Steve’s voice left his body as he came untouched, something that has never happened. He was cognizant enough to feel Bucky’s release but blackout shortly after.

When he came to, Steve was wrapped in his favorite fuzzy blanket that smelt like his Daddy and fingers were running through his hair. Bucky was speaking softly to him slowly bringing Steve back to the land of the living. Once Steve felt more in control of his body, he snuggled into Bucky’s chest.

“There’s my snuggly kitten.” Bucky kissed the top of Steve’s head. “How do you feel, Steve?” Bucky always used his name when Steve was coming out of that floaty place to hopefully keep the sub from dropping. It also gave Steve something to latch onto if he was having a hard time coming out of that floaty place.

Steve took stock of his body. His shoulders were a little sore from his arms being tied behind his back but no sharp pain. Just the same soreness he feels after a long gym session. His ass was the perfect, post fuck soreness that he always craved and the rest of his arms and ankles felt perfectly fine.

“I feel good, Bucky.” Steve smiled up at Bucky who placed a kiss on the younger man’s nose.

“That’s good, Kitten. Could you eat a little bit for me? I got your favorite candy.”

Steve perked up, “Jellybeans?”

Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the Ziploc bag next to him, “Absolutely. Only the best for my baby.”

Steve preened as he grabbed the bag. “I love you, Daddy.”

Bucky smiled as he watched his boy dig into the bag, “I love you too, Kitten.”

#steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stevebucky #hannahshattuck writings #hannahshattuck all caps bingo 2023 #allcapsbingo2023

17 notes · View notes

aspenmissing · 1 year

Text

𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚝 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

A Radio turns on, playing ‘Heat of the Moment’ by Asia.

"Heat of the moment" Sam's eyes snap open and he sits up from his bed "Telling you what your heart is"

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean says, sat on the other bed, tying his shoes. He is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

"Dude. Asia?" Sam says.

"Come on. You love this song and you know it" Y/N says, brushing her teeth in the bathroom.

"Yeah, and if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself" Dean turns up the volume.

"What? Sorry, we couldn't hear you" Sam laughs.

Dean and Y/N start bopping along. Sam shakes his head in amusement. Later, in the bathroom, Dean gargles loudly and long. Sam tries to ignore him long enough to brush his teeth; Dean grins when he sees Y/N look around the corner, squinting her eyes at him. Later back in the room, Sam and Y/N are standing beside the door while Dean rummages through his bag.

"Whenever you're ready, Dean" Sam says. Dean pulls out a black bra and looks at Y/N, who quickly points to Sam.

"It's Sam's" Sam glares at her and Dean laughs before rummaging through his bag some more; he pulls out a gun.

"Bingo" Dean goes past Sam and Y/N to the door.

"Now who's ready for some breakfast?" Y/N puts her hand up excitedly.

"Oh, Me me me!"

The door chimes as Sam, Dean, and Y/N enter the Diner, the cashier giving an old man some change.

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett" The Cashier says.

"Yeah, yeah" Mr. Pickett grumbles before walking out.

"Order up" The cooks shout. Sam, Dean, and Y/N then find a booth. Y/N takes the window seat with Dean next to her and Sam sits opposite them.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules" A waitress says, and Cal passes her some change.

"Some coffee" Dean notices a poster on the wall and nudges Y/N.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke"

"Sounds delicious" she says.

"You even know what that is?" Sam asks, and a waitress then walks up to them.

"You three ready?"

"Yeah. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee"

"The special and a strawberry milkshake" Y/N says.

"Make it two coffees and a short stack"

"You got it" The waitress says, walking off.

"I'm telling you, guys, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela" Dean says.

"Okay, sure let's get right on that" Y/N looks away with a thinking face. "Where is she again?" She asks sarcastically.

"Shut up"

"Look. Believe me, we want to find her as bad as you do. In the meantime, we have this" Sam pulls out some papers"

"All right, so this professor" The headline on the newspaper clipping reads ‘MISSING-DEXTER HASSELBACK LAST SEEN IN BROWARD, FLORIDA’.

"Dexter Hasselback was passing through town last week when he vanished"

"Last known location?" Y/N asks.

"His daughter says he was on his way to visit Broward County Mystery Spot" Y/N turns over a flyer.

"Where the laws of physics have no meaning" Dean reads, looking over at the flyer. Sam shrugs. The waitress arrives with a tray with two coffees, one milkshake, and a bottle of hot sauce"

"Two coffees, black" She places them down in front of the boys "One strawberry milkshake" She places it down in front of Y/N "and some hot sauce for the-" The waitress gasps as the hot sauce falls off the tray and smashes on the floor "Whoops. Crap! Sorry" She turns to the back "Clean-up!"

The three then exit the diner. A dog barks as Sam, Y/N, and Dean pass, and Dean grabs the mystery spot flyer from Sam's hands.

"Sam, joints like this are only tourist traps, right? I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling"

"They're only dangerous to your wallet" Y/N adds.

"Okay, look, I'm just saying, there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people. The Bermuda Triangle, uh, the Oregon vortex-"

"Broward County Mystery Spot?" Dean says.

"Well sometimes these places are legit"

"Well-" Y/N collides with a blond girl, who is carrying a stack of paper.

"Excuse me" They continue to walk, and Dean sneaks glances back at the girl.

"The lore's pretty frigging nuts, actually. They say these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend spacetime, sending victims no one knows where"

"Sounds a little X-Files to me" Sam, Dean, and Y/N pass two movers trying to get a desk in a door.

"Told you it wouldn't fit"

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?"

"All right, look, I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something"

"All right, all right, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look" Y/N says.

Sam, Dean, and Y/N enter a hallway, which is neon green with a black double spiral painted on the walls and door, holding flashlights. Sam closes the door behind them, and they move up the hallway. Sam pulls out the EMF reader while Y/N shines the flashlight around and up onto a table, lamp, and ashtray attached upside-down to the ceiling.

"Wow. Uncanny," she says, looking at Dean with an eyebrow raised. "And people pay to see this?" Dean shrugs. Sam examines another table with a wine glass and a poultry dinner, this one at an angle to the floor. They then move on.

"Find anything?" Dean asks.

"No," Sam replies, holding the unresponsive EMF meter.

"You have any idea what you're looking for?"

"Uh...yeah," Y/N looks at him, eyebrows raised skeptically. "No," she shakes her head. They both shine flashlights around other parts of the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam and Dean turn to look. Y/N points her flashlight and handgun at the voice, seeing that it’s the owner, who in fact has a gun pointed directly at Y/N, while her own is elsewhere.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa. We can explain," she says, and the owner points the gun at Sam and Dean.

"You robbing me?"

"Look, nobody's robbing you, calm down," Y/N moves slightly and the gun is pointed back at her.

"Don't move."

"Just putting the gun down," Y/N says, trying to bend down to put her gun down only for the gun to fire and shoot her directly in the chest. She drops to the floor.

"Y/N!" The brothers shout as they rush to her, who is struggling to breathe.

"Hey!" Dean says. Sam looks at the owner.

"Call 911!" He orders.

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"Now!" The owner leaves. Sam looks back to Y/N, whose hand is now being held tightly by Dean.

"Hey, hey," Sam uses his hand on where she was shot, he holds his hand up seeing the blood on it before sharing a panicked look with Dean then back to Y/N. "Oh, no, no, no... not like this..." Y/N then goes still; eyes closing while Sam and Dean watch, devastated.

"Y/N," Sam mutters, Dean gripping her hand tightly.

"Heat of the moment" Sam's eyes snap open and he sits up in bed and stares around. "Telling you what your heart is"

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean is sitting on the other bed, tying his shoes. Sam stares at him, then at the clock radio.

"Dude. Asia," Sam keeps staring, breathing hard. And not before long, his eyes are darting around the room in panic when he couldn’t see his sister.

"Dean"

"Oh, come on, you love this song and you know it," Y/N says, brushing her teeth. Dean turns up the volume and starts bopping along, Y/N following. Sam stares at her. In the bathroom, Dean gargles loudly and annoyingly, making Y/N come around the corner, squinting her eyes at him. Sam drinks some water, swishes, and spits. Dean and Y/N notice Sam's lack of reaction, and Dean spits out his mouthful while Y/N leans against the door.

"What?" Dean asks.

"I don't know."

"You all right?" Y/N asks.

"I think I-" Sam pauses. "Man, I had a weird dream."

"Yeah? Clowns or midgets?" Dean asks.

The door chimes as Dean, Y/N, and Sam enter the diner, the cashier giving Mr. Pickett some change.

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam, Y/N, and Dean find a booth with Sam staring around, bewildered.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules." Cal passes her some change and Sam stares hard at them.

"Coffee." Dean notices a poster on the wall; nudging Y/N.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke."

"Sounds delicious." Sam glances between Y/N, Dean, and the poster.

"It's Tuesday?" Sam asks.

"Yeah."

"Are you three ready?"

"Yeah, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee."

"The special and a strawberry milkshake.” Sam stares for a minute.

"Uh, nothing for me, thanks."

"Let me know if you change your mind." The waitress walks off.

"I'm telling you, guys, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela."

"Okay, sure let's get right on that." Y/N looks away with a thinking face. "Where is she again?"

"Shut up." Dean snaps his fingers at Sam.

"You with us?" Dean asks.

"What?"

"You sure you feel okay?" Y/N asks. Sam sighs.

"You two don't- you don't remember? Any of this?"

"Remember what?"

"This. Today. Like it's- like it's... happened before."

"Yeah. Like deja vu." Y/N says.

"No, forget about deja vu. I'm asking you if it feels like, like we're living yesterday all over again."

"Okay, how is that not de-"

"Don't, don't say it! Just don't even..." Sam says, angry. The waitress arrives with one coffee, one strawberry milkshake, and the hot sauce.

"Coffee, black." She places the coffee in front of Dean. "Strawberry milkshake." She places it in front of Y/N. "And some hot sauce for the- oops! Crap!" Sam notices the hot sauce wobble on the tray and catches it as it falls. Doris gasps. Sam stares at the bottle in his hand and gives it back. "Thanks." The waitress puts down the bottle and leaves.

"Nice reflexes." Y/N says. Sam swallows, frustrated and confused, and doesn't say anything.

The dog barks as Sam, Dean, and Y/N pass, Sam staring back over his shoulder.

"Sam, I'm sorry, but we don't know what the hell you're talking about." Dean says.

"Okay, look. Yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday too."

"Yeah. No. Good. You're totally balanced." Dean says.

"So, you don't believe me?!" Y/N laughs and collides with a blond girl.

"Excuse me."

"Look, we're just saying that it's crazy, you know, I mean, even for us crazy. Dingo ate my baby crazy. Hey, maybe it was another of your psychic premonitions."

"No, no way, way too vivid. Okay, look, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then-"

"And then what?" Y/N asks. Sam pauses.

"Then I woke up." They pass the movers.

"Told you it wouldn't fit."

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?"

"Wait a minute! The Mystery Spot. You think maybe it-"

"Maybe what?" Dean asks. Sam sighs.

"We gotta check that place out. Look, just - go with me on this, okay?" Dean and Y/N share a look.

"All right, all right, we'll go tonight, after close, get ourselves a nice long look." She says, making Sam quickly whip around to her.

"Wait, what? No."

"Why not?" Dean asks.

"Uhh - Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded."

"My god, you're a freak."

"Guys."

"Okay! Whatever. We'll go now." Y/N walks a few feet ahead of Sam and Dean and looks to his right as she enters the street. A car slams into her from her left.

"Y/N!" The two rushes to Y/N.

"Y/N, no, no, no." Sam says. Y/N has blood on her face and is barely moving when Dean turns her over and picks her up.

"Come on! Y/N!" Dean pleads. Mr. Pickett leans out of the now-stopped car. Sam stares at him, then back at Y/N.

"Hey. Y/N." The woman isn't moving, and lays completely limp and dull of any life. "Y/N!"

"Y/N!"

"Heat of the moment" Sam's eyes snap open. He sits up in bed and stares around. "Telling you what your heart is."

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean is on the other bed, tying his shoes. Sam stares at him before turning to the bathroom door to see Y/N brushing her teeth.

"The heat of the moment. Showed in your eyes." In the bathroom, Dean gargles loudly and annoyingly. Sam watches, then looks to the door to see Y/N looking at Dean with squinted eyes.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke," Dean says, nudging Y/N.

"Sounds delicious."

"Okay, would you listen to me, guys? 'Cause I am flipping out."

"Are you three ready?"

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black. She'll also take the special and a strawberry milkshake. Nothing for me, thanks."

"You got it."

"Sammy, I get tingly when you take control like that," Dean jokes.

"Quit screwing around, Dean."

"Okay. Okay. He's listening, I'm listening. So, so- you think you're in some kind of what again?"

"Time loop."

"Like "Groundhog Day"," Dean says.

"Yes, exactly. Like "Groundhog Day"," Sam nods.

"Uh-huh."

"So you don't believe me," Y/N laughs.

"It's just a little crazy, I mean even for us crazy, you know, like, uh-"

"Dingo ate my baby crazy?"

"How'd you know she was going to say that?" Dean asks.

"Because you said it before, Y/N, that's my whole point."

"Coffee, black." She places it in front of Dean. "Strawberry Milkshake." She places it in front of Y/N. "And some hot sauce for the- whoops! Crap." Sam catches the hot sauce and hands it back to the waitress without looking. "Thanks." The waitress puts down the hot sauce and leaves.

"Nice reflexes," Y/N says.

"No, I knew it was going to happen," Dean sighs.

"Okay, look. I'm sure that there's some sort of an explanation-" He says.

"You're just going to have to go with me on this, Guys, you just have to, you two owe me that much!"

"Calm down-" Y/N says.

"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't calm down. I can't. Because-" Sam pauses.

"Because what?" Y/N asks.

"Because you die, today, Y/N." Dean looks to Y/N then back to Sam.

"I'm not gonna die. Not today."

"Twice now I've watched you die, and I can't-I won't do it again, okay? You're just going to have to believe me. Please."

"All right. We still think you're nuts, but okay, whatever this is, we'll figure it out," Sam nods unhappily.

The dog barks as Sam, Dean, and Y/N pass, and later Y/N collides with the blonde girl.

"Excuse me." Sam, Dean, and Y/N pass the movers.

"Told you it wouldn't fit."

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?"

"And you think this cheesy-ass tourist trap has something to do with it?" Y/N asks.

"Maybe it's the real deal, you know? The magnetic fields bending spacetime or whatever."

"I don't know, it all seems a little too "X-Files" for us," Dean says.

"Well, I don't know how else to explain it, Guys!"

"All right! All right. We'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

"No, no, no, no, no, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because y-y-ou-" Sam stops, unable to finish.

"I what?" Sam doesn't say anything. "I die there."

"Blown away, actually."

"Huh. Okay, let's go now." Dean starts forward. Sam rushes after her and grabs her before she runs into the street. Mr. Pickett's car zooms past.

"Stay out of the way!" The three stare after the car. Dean and Y/N laugh until they see Sam's face.

"Wait, did he-?"

"Yesterday. Yeah."

"And?" She asks.

"And what?"

"Did it look cool like in the movies?"

"You peed yourself," Sam says, irritated. Dean snorts, looking away. Y/N, however, looks uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"Of course, I peed myself. Girl gets hit by a car; you think she had full control over her bladder?" She hits their shoulders. "Come on!" Y/N is careful to look both ways before they cross the street.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," The Owner says. "We could use all the good ink we can get."

"How long have you owned this place, Mr. Carpiak?" Y/N asks.

"Well, my family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't want to know when."

"So, you'd know if anything strange happened," Sam says, bluntly.

"Strange? Strange happens here all the time. It's a Mystery Spot," The Owner chuckles.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, uh...it's where the laws of physics have no meaning."

"Okay, like how?" Sam says, angry.

"Take the tour," The Owner grins. Y/N nudges Dean, gesturing her head to say something.

"The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback, he takes the tour?" Dean asks.

"Uh, uh, hold on a minute, what kind of article is this?"

"Just answer the question."

"The police scoured every inch of this place. They couldn't find that man. I never seen him before. We're a family establishment," Sam gets in the Owner's face.

"Listen to me. There is something weird going on here. Now do you know anything about it or not?"

"Okay. Look. Guys. Um. Give me a break. I bought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, all right? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds." Sam stares at him, stony-faced.

"Okay, Kojak, let's get some air," Dean streets Sam outside. Y/N looks to the owner.

"I'm sorry about him." She then follows after the two.

The three walk down the street.

"Well, I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought - it's full of crap."

"Crap people pay to see," Y/N adds.

"Then what is it, Guys, what the hell is happening to us?"

"I don't know. All right, let me just- So, every day I die."

"Yeah."

"And that's when you wake up again, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, let's just make sure she doesn't die. If she makes it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out."

"You think?"

"It's worth a shot. I saw we grab some takeout and head back to the motel, lay low until midnight," Y/N says, and Sam nods, hopeful, anxious, and shaky. "All right, good. Who wants Chinese?" Y/N starts walking again and gets two steps before being flattened by a falling desk. The movers, one holding the other end of the snapped rope and the other up in the window, stare at the scene. Sam and Dean look at their sister in despair.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #reader insert

2 notes · View notes

writethelifeyouwant · 2 years

Text

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Aversion Therapy

Summary: Y/N has been institutionalised for sex addiction at an experimental facility, run by Dr. Sam Winchester. Pairing: Doctor!Sam x Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: Sex addiction, addiction therapies, abuse of therapist/patient relationship, noncon roleplay Tags: hair pulling, crotchless panties, degradation (like, a lot), blow job, spitting, pussy spanking, sex on a desk, body writing, p in v, pulling out Word Count: 4.5k (oneshot)

Control

Summary: Sam and Castiel are helping Jack to master his powers, which includes practicing how to control human actions. Pairing: Winklinsitel (Jack x Sam x Cas) Rating: 18+ Tags: mind control (consensual), BDSM relationship, sub!Sam, dom!Cas, dom!Jack, punishment, masochism, self-inflicted sexual torture, CBT (cock and ball torture), light humiliation, edging, orgasm denial Word Count: 3.3k (oneshot)

Dolly

Summary: Idk what to tell you guys, this is basically some degradation pwp, enjoy. Pairing: Sam x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: BDSM relationship, dollification, sub ownership, denial, degradation, kneeling Word Count: 935 (drabble)

Get Down

Summary: Another Winchester x Jody fill for the kink bingo - a follow on from “Thanks for the Pie” but can be read as a standalone. Pairing: Sam x Jody Rating: 18+ Tags: dom!Sam, oral sex (m rec) , fingering (f rec), fuck buddies, neighbors, non hunting AU Word Count: 502 (drabble)

Good Influence (Part 2)

Summary: Jody thinks having Sam and Dean around is a good influence on Claire and Alex. Claire has stopped acting so aggressively and Alex is starting to come out of her shell a little more; if only she knew the real reason why… Pairing: Sam x Alex Jones Tags: teenage angst, loss of virginity, nerves, gentle!Sam, car sex, dry humping, oral (m rec), fingering, p in v, praise kink out the wazoo, size kink WC: 6.3k (mini series part)

Hands Off

Summary: When someone mistakes you and Dean for a couple during a hunt, Dean decides it’s his duty as a friend to find you a man. Little does he know, Sam’s already taking care of that. Pairing: Sam x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: secret dating, angsty, Dean is a moron, Dean is a wingman, Sam gets jealous, pre-smut Word Count: 2.8k (oneshot)

Just Once More

Summary: Sam’s birthday is coming up, and Dean wants to give him something he’s always wanted. Pairing: Sam x Reader | Dean x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: oral fixation, over stimulation, praise kink, dom / sub relationship, sub sharing, oral sex (f rec), squirting Word Count: 2.7k (oneshot)

Pretty Boy

Summary: When Spencer comes across a viral TedTalk, he’s stunned to see he recognises the speaker. Pairing: Sam Winchester (SPN) x Spencer Reid (CM) Rating: 18+ Tags: implied one night stand, college bar, questionable decision making, flashbacks, Stanford!Sam, virgin!Spencer, making out, grinding, back alley blow jobs Word Count: 2.2k (oneshot)

Show Me

Summary: Jack goes to Sam and Dean for advice about girls and sex, and Sam turns out to be an excellent teacher. Pairing: Sam x Jack x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: Bi!Jack, Bi!Sam, Age Difference, Pseudo-Incest, First Kiss, Mutual Masturbation, Sexting, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Fleshlight, Sloppy Seconds, Pining!Sam, Eventual Dom/Sub Relationship, Dom!Sam, Switch!Jack, Sub!Reader, Threesome, Instruction Kink, dom!Sam, switch!Jack, sub!Reader, Dom/Sub relationship, polyamorous relationship, threesome, BDSM, rewards, punishments, Daddy kink, Daddy!Sam, first times, p in v, dirty talk, sex toy, doggy style, anal sex, daisy chain, breeding kink Word Count: 21.2k (mini series)

SPN A/B/O Bingo Drabble 1

Summary: Sam and Jess are idiots in love, this is just a cute fluffy drabble, it literally doesn't even have a title. Pairing: Sam x Jess Rating: 13+ (for swearing) Tags: Fluff, Omegaverse, Scent Mixing, Sam is clueless, Brady sorts him out, presentations can be whatever you want them to be Word Count: 1.1k (oneshot)

Stop Apologising

Summary: When a spell goes wrong and puts the Bunker out of action for the night while Rowena reverses the damage done, Y/N and Sam have to crash in a nearby motel. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: crack, smut, magic is dangerous kiddos, only one bed, oral sex (m rec) Word Count: 1.3k (oneshot)

Told You So

Summary: Jack doesn’t believe that Sam can make him come without touching his dick. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Jack Kline Rating: 18+ Tags: sex toys, dom/sub, wrist restraints, coming untouched, dirty talk, slut shaming, choking, cum eating Word Count: 2.3k (oneshot)

#sam winchester #sam #supernatural #sam x reader #sam x jack #sam x jody #sam x jess

148 notes · View notes

princessmisery666 · 3 years

Text

What It Tastes Like

Summary: Bucky didn't intentionally break her trust, but maybe Sam has the right idea of how he can make it up to her.

Warnings: fluff, fluffy angst (maybe), Sam Wilson being immature, implied smut, language, hints at the reader having abilities but not explicitly mentioned.

W/C: 1k

Bingo: @anyfandomgoesbingo Square Filled: “I thought I could trust you.”

Characters: Bucky Barnes, unnamed Fem!Reader (she/her - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity), Sam Wilson. Mentioned: Zemo.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x unnamed Fem!Reader (she/her - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Notes: set during The Falcon & The Winter Soldier, I imagined them in Zemo’s apartment in episode 4 but not specified.

A/N: I’m sorry for posting so often but I’m on a roll, so I’m making the most of the inspiration.

Betas: @wonder-cole // @cockslut-padalecki // they are both wonderful but all mistakes belong to me or Grammarly 😂

Graphics: dividers - @firefly-graphics // pic in title card from Home Of The Nutty - this site is awesome for screen grabs of shows 😁

Master Lists: AFG Bingo round 2 // Main // Marvel

“I thought I could trust you,” she says, bottom lip sticking out in an adorable pout.

She’s not trying to be adorable, her expression is fierce, but that just makes it worse. He should be taking her seriously but Bucky’s not sure he’s ever wanted anything more than to kiss her. He’s staring at that protruding lip and it’s all he can think about. If the circumstances were different, he’d do it. He’d lean in, nip that plush lip with his teeth then kiss away the sting. He’d kiss her until her lips were swollen and she was breathless. Then he’d do it again till she was delirious and light-headed.

She snaps her fingers a millimetre from his eyes, and it’s the disruption in his vision that brings him back to the room.

“You’re supposed to be making amends, Barnes,” she teases, “and here you are doin’ some shady shit to the person who took your ass in, helped you when you needed it most. We’re supposed to be able to trust each other.”

He gives her a crooked smile. “You can trust me, doll.”

“Don’t doll me,” she sneers, “not after what you’ve done.”

He chuckles. He can’t contain it even if he’d wanted to because that sulking like a toddler pout is back and it’s even more adorable than the last. “It was never my intention to upset you,” he admits, sincerely trying to level her seriousness. “How can I make it up to you?”

Sam’s standing in the kitchen, over her left shoulder, and he’s wearing that ‘I know a secret’ type smirk that seems permanently plastered to his face. Bucky knows what Sam is thinking because he’s thinking it too. But still, childishly, Sam mimes kissing an invisible woman, eyes closed, arms holding a ghost.

Bucky quickly waves him away while she looks down at the knife she’s using to scrape dirt out of a groove on the breakfast bar.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure there is anything.”

Ever the adult, Sam gyrates his hips and pretends to smack an invisible ass. Bucky sees the flash but it’s not until the blade embeds into the cabinet door a centimetre from Sam’s head he realizes she threw it without looking.

“Hey,” Sam whines, eyes flicking from the blade to her, “he’s the one who ate your damn chocolate!”

“I can see you,” she says, pointing toward his reflection in the glass cabinet, then twisting to look at him. “You got somewhere else you need to be, Captain?”

“You’re on your own, buddy,” Sam jests as he strides out of the room and closes the door.

Bucky gulps, which he hopes she misses as she turns back to face him. It was easier with Sam in the room, even with his immature teasing. There was no chance of his urges getting the better of him. Not that kissing her is a bad thing, but he’s not sure it’s what she wants.

“It’s not just any chocolate,” she defends. “It’s imported, real hard to come by, and it was my last bar.”

Shit. He worries she’s genuinely upset and not just busting his balls. All he can think to say is, “Sorry,” again.

“I don’t know how long it will be before I can get my hands on another one,” she says, picking up the empty candy wrapper and sighing wistfully. “I was saving this one for a special occasion, and it’s been a while since I had one, not sure I remember what it tastes like.”

“I’m really sorry doll, but we’d been in a fight,” he rambles, the guilt making him feel terrible enough he needs to explain that it was an unavoidable situation. “Sam was patching me up and I needed the sugar and it was the first thing Zemo threw at me. I will go out right now and I swear I won’t come back ’til I find another one or at least find somewhere to order one and I’ll pay whatever it costs for delivery. Or...or… I’ll get all the ingredients and ma…”

Faster than his eyes can track, just like the knife, she’s on her feet. Her lips press to his and the shock freezes him for a heartbeat. His eyes close when he realizes what’s happening and he feels her tongue poking at his lips. He stands up too, slipping a hand around her waist to draw her closer and the other holds the back of her head, tangling in her hair. She sighs when their tongues finally meet and a needy moan rumbles from his chest in reply.

As soon as her nails trail a blazing path up his arm to lock around his neck, he knows he’ll never get his fill of her. If he gets a chance to take a kiss further, to feel every single inch of her, he’ll want more. Always.

The kiss lasts a lifetime and yet not nearly long enough. A moment before he becomes breathless she pulls back, nipping gently at his bottom lip and he wonders if she can read minds.

She hums, seemingly sated and happy. “That’s what it tastes like.”

“You want another taste, just to be sure?” he asks, not recognising the blissed-out husk to his tone.

She kisses him again, but when his tongue seeks entry she pulls back and he chases her lips as she unravels herself from his hold. He stands dumbfounded for a moment, desperate to know what all this means now. But it seems too soon for a marriage proposal.

Instead, he settles for, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Oh god no,” she chuckles. She turns to face him but continues to walk backwards, her smile jesting and mischievous. She winks, “But maybe Sam had the right idea of how you can make it up to me.”

That adorable pouting lip is caught between her teeth as she crosses her arms over to grab the bottom of her shirt.

In the few seconds her face disappears under her shirt as she pulls it off, he reminds himself again. Too soon for a marriage proposal.

His brain malfunctions, his jaw goes slack but her shirt hits the floor and the rest of his anatomy is functioning perfectly fine. He drags his eyes from her lace-clad breasts back to her face and she uses a finger to beckon him closer.

“Oh fuck.” He palms his erection through the denim of his jeans and he growls before running to catch up with her.

Marvellous Marvel: @denimbex1986 / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deanwinchesterswitch / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @petitgateau911

Beautifully Broken Bucky Barnes: @bccky

Tag List Info - all tag lists open.

288 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

Text

Burn The Witch 4 - Making Believe [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: A lot can happen in a coffee shop.

Series Masterlist

Considering all the missions your superiors had sent you, this wasn’t the first one to make you end up with a gunshot wound, but it was the first one that you were assigned to seduce the target and ended up with a gunshot wound as a first impression.

Now that you had met Bucky, the next step would be easier. You just hoped he wouldn’t suspect something was up like General kept warning you about, so you had to make sure to memorize every single detail of your cover story.

Instead of being a trained assassin, you were now working in a milkshake shop.

Instead of having lived there your whole life, you were now clueless about the city since you had recently moved there.

Instead of liking horror movies, you now loved rom-coms.

New identity, new apartment, new car, new everything. It was as if the real you had never existed, but none of that was your biggest issue right now.

It was your new uniform for the milkshake shop.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, looking in the mirror before fixing your skirt. Even after a week, you still weren’t used to wearing it, the uniform was some sort of a retro diner waitress costume with red and white stripes, cinched waist and a white apron over the short skirt. “I’m going to kill whoever picked this after I’m done with the mission.”

“Y/N?” Chloe called out from the living room, “Come on, we need to go over everything for today.”

You ran a hand over your face and walked to the living room to find your two best friends sprawling on the couch. Keith let out a laugh as soon as he saw you in that outfit, but managed to hide it by pressing his fist on his lips while Chloe kicked at his boot.

“I didn’t say anything!” He held up his hands, “Will you break my phone again if I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you pointed at him, “I will, so don’t even.”

“We need to go over the plan,” Chloe said, “Today is the day you accidentally run into Barnes, he’ll be at that coffee shop.”

“How do you know where he will be?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hello? I’m a genius hacker?”

Keith sat up straighter, turning the pages of your file.

“Okay so,” he said, “You guys will probably make some small talk, let’s have some practice. Pretend I’m Bucky, how will you talk about yourself?”

“We don’t need to practice it, it’s not my first rodeo,” you reminded him “I got this.”

“Y/N, no offense but he isn’t some clueless civilian okay? The guy was going after targets before you or your parents were born for that matter. The tiniest mistake could tip him off.”

“He has a point.”

“Fine,” you sighed, fixing your nametag, “Let’s practice then.”

Keith took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Look at that, we ran into each other again.”

You frowned at his deep voice, “Bucky doesn’t sound like one of those robots in the Terminator, Keith.”

“I’m in the zone, just go with it,” he said as offered you his hand, and you shook it.

“Yeah, hi again.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh that’s normal, I just moved here. A month ago.”

“You just moved here?” he repeated “Really? Did you get used to the city yet?”

“A little.”

“I bet your family misses you.”

“Not really, I grew up with my grandmother. She passed away last year.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

Keith raised his brows, “Can you be less specific?”

“Keith—“

“You’re not acting like a civilian right now, you’re acting like a spy who has been forced to socialize and he will see right through that,” he told you. “You have to give him more details, civilians talk about themselves a lot.”

“It’s true,” Chloe said, “Once I was in this speed dating thing and just- don’t ask. They don’t stop talking about themselves.”

Keith pursed his lips only for a moment, stealing a look at Chloe before turning to you,

“Let’s try again. Any siblings?”

You rolled your eyes, “Unfortunately not. I’m an only child but when I was a kid, I kept begging my parents for a sister. My mom asked me what would happen if I got a brother, apparently I went like “but mommy, you can give him back then!””

“There we go, embarrassing childhood memories,” Keith grinned, “Good idea.”

You checked your wristwatch, “I gotta run,” you said, “You guys can see yourselves out.”

“I was actually hoping I could stay a little more,” Chloe said, “To make this place look a bit more appropriate. I suppose you’ll bring him here at some point?”

You pulled your brows together, looking around. “Yeah, so? There’s a bedroom.”

“Ever the romantic, this one,” Keith said and Chloe shook her head,

“Y/N, he needs to see something personal otherwise he might get suspicious.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “You mean like sex toys?”

“Oh Jesus…”

“Contrary to popular belief, when people say they want to see something personal, they don’t refer to sex toys.” Keith stated helpfully, “That being said, we’re all screwed if you end up falling for a civilian, you have no idea how to act like one.”

“I meant personal as in stuff to make your place look more homely,” Chloe explained, “Things from your cover’s past that show him we didn’t fabricate this whole identity.”

“Even if we did,” Keith mumbled under his breath and she nodded.

“Even if we did. He needs to see something personal when he comes here, like…” she motioned at the walls, “Like your childhood pictures or your art projects from when you were seventeen.”

“I was learning how to use a pencil as a knife when I was seventeen, Chloe.”

“Exactly. Just let me handle it, I’ve been watching so many makeover shows lately.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Knock yourself out,” you said, “I have milkshakes to fill, see you guys later.”

“Go get him tiger!”

“You got this!” Chloe called out as you walked to the door, “Just be confident and your milkshake will bring all the ex-assassins to the yard!”

You let out a small laugh, then closed the door behind you before throwing your shoulders back and going down the stairs.

***

Approaching the target as your training taught you had to have certain steps. You couldn’t just implant yourself in their life, you had to wait until they thought it was their choice to include you in their lives. Sometimes it took more time than you had patience for, but in the end it was worth it.

Seeing that Bucky Barnes was no civilian, every single step had to be checked twice.

Well the uniform would help the mission, at least a little.

A distracted target was a good target.

You lowered the binoculars before pushing them into your purse and fixing the apron wrapped around your waist. Bucky was sitting with Sam at the coffee shop and they seemed to be in a deep discussion, not even aware of what was going on around them. You took a deep breath and approached the door before you pushed it, then slowly made your way to the barista.

“Hi, can I get a cappuccino please? Small.” You smiled at her and went to the counter on the right to wait for your order. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam looking at you with a frown before saying something to Bucky, nodding in your direction. You kept your eyes on the counter, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you scratched around the tape of the bandage over the bullet wound absentmindedly.

Come on…. you thought Come on, approach me already, just come here….

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup off the counter before you started pouring sugar into it just to stall, and finally heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bingo.

You looked over your shoulder and turned around, your jaw dropping.

“Come on,” you let out a giggle, “Is this real?”

Bucky smiled slightly and pursed his lips together as if he wasn’t familiar with the gesture, “Uh…hi.”

“Hi!” you said, your voice way too high pitched for a moment, “Wow. We meet again, my hero.”

His smile widened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “How’s your arm?”

“Healing,” you ran a finger over the tape of the bandage, “I didn’t die, that’s something. But the doctor said that was the worst bullet wound he had ever seen in his life.”

Bucky frowned, “Wait, really?”

“No, I’m just trying to look badass,” you admitted, making him chuckle, “They didn’t even think it needed stitches.”

“Ah,” he said and motioned at your uniform, “So you’re a…?”

You scrunched up your nose in what you hoped to be a cute manner and shot him an abashed look, “I know. I thought the exact same thing when I first saw myself in it.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled more to himself and you tilted your head, batting your lashes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “So the uniform?”

“I work at this milkshake shop just around the corner,” you said, “Apparently retro shops are popular nowadays. It’s supposed to look like this pin up style— can you tell me what’s wrong with the dress so that I can tell the owner what a ridiculous idea it is?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you up and down, “I don’t- it’s-“ he stammered “You know, it was such a long time ago. I think it looks perfectly fine.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely.”

You grinned at him, “Well in any case, you should drop by sometime. Milkshakes are better than the uniform, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I would’ve invited you sooner but by the time I was done at the hospital you had already left, and they also told me you paid for the whole thing and the taxi, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand, “It’s nothing.”

You bit down on your lip, “If you don’t mind me asking,” you said softly, “Why did you leave in a hurry? I mean obviously you didn’t have to stay, I’m sure you’re very busy and—“

“No no, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky cut you off, “I just didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, that’s all.”

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, “I see. I was wondering what the catch was, didn’t have to wait that long. That’s good to know.”

He raised his brows, amused for some reason, “What’s the catch?”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” you taunted him “Just unfamiliar.”

His gaze lingered on you as you took a sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes on him.

“I hope you got home safe though,” he said after a beat and you thought for a moment.

“I did, and now I know to stay away from dark alleys in New York,” you said, “Lesson learned I’d say.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“I- no, I actually moved here just a month ago,” you said, “I grew up in a small town, we didn’t really have robbers or anything. And I managed to get mugged within the first thirty days in a big city. A true New York experience, I feel like I belong here already.”

“Your folks must be losing their minds if you attract trouble that fast in the city.”

“No one is losing their minds, it’s just me,” you said and when you saw his quizzical glances, you felt the need to explain. “I grew up with my grandma and I lost her a year ago, so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah it’s okay,” you said, “She wouldn’t want me to live in sadness, she told me that herself. You can’t focus on what ifs, you know? We just decide what to do with the time left for us and that’s it. Past would drive all of us crazy otherwise.”

He looked almost surprised at your take on loss and when you saw the soft light in his eyes, you knew you had just hit jackpot.

“You’re a glass half full kind of person, huh?”

Nope, I’m more of a “use the glass as a weapon” kind of person.

“Yeah,” you said, “There are enough pessimists in the world, and they don’t need me within their ranks. No one really did anything nice by thinking the worst anyways.”

“Oh you were definitely not raised here.”

Your jaw dropped, “You know what Mr. Barnes, I’d take that as an offense but lucky for you, you saved me the other day, so I’ll let that slide.”

“Mm hm,” He looked like he was struggling with himself not to laugh, “Lucky me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then checked your wristwatch.

“I should probably go, my boss cares a lot about punctuality,” you said, “But is it okay if I gave you my number?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Wait- really?”

“I mean I was going to wait until you asked me, but apparently you’re too much of a gentleman,” you joked as he hastily grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You typed in your number, then saved it.

Y/N (The Milkshake Girl)

Bucky tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “What, you didn’t think I’d recognize your name?”

“Well it’s better to be safe than sorry,” you joked, “Besides you should really come by sometime. We have the best chocolate milkshakes. It’s on the house.”

He smiled, “I will.”

You took a step, then held your breath and turned around as if you had just remembered something.

As if it wasn’t all practiced.

“But not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays,” you said, “I volunteer at the soup kitchen then.”

That light in his eyes was almost gentle, as if he was worried he could hurt you just by looking at you, but couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

“I’ll see you not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays then,” he said and you giggled, then turned around and walked to the door. Sam was watching you with a small, proud grin on his lips so you waved at him and left the coffee shop, still holding the warm cup tightly in your hand.

As soon as you were sure you were out of their sight, you dropped the smile, exhaled a relaxed breathe and grabbed your phone to touch the contact on the screen.

“I’m sorry, our delivery service is down right now,” the voice said and you scratched around the tape on your arm before telling her the code;

“That’s okay, I can wait until the rain stops.”

There was a click on the other line and soon enough you heard the assistant’s voice.

“Hello?”

“This is Shrike, put me through the General.”

“Of course, a second please,” she said and you tossed the cup into the garbage can, then General’s voice reached you.

“Shrike?”

“Sir, I just called to inform you that I’ve contacted the target for the second time,” you said, “Everything is going according to plan, my report will be on your desk by tonight.”

“He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No sir.”

“Okay,” he said, “Don’t move too fast, alright? We don’t want to spook him.”

“Of course.”

“And Shrike?” he said, “Good job.”

A smile lit up your face, “Thank you sir,” you said and hung up, closing your eyes and leaning back to the wall.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “You got this, he’s just another target. Let the games begin.”

Chapter 5

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky barnes x you

597 notes · View notes

there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Fine Lines - Part 4/4

Part of Coffee & Psychopaths, my Criminal Minds/Supernatural crossover!

Word Count: ~6630 this chapter

Warnings: Canon-atypical honest discussions of trauma and recovery. Touches on a lot of the same mental health issues as the first three parts; if you’ve made it this far, I doubt there’s anything here that will bother you too much.

A/N: With huge thanks to @stunudo @fangirlxwritesx67 and @percywinchester27, for looking this over and giving feedback way back when I was first starting to write it. The first chapter of this filled my “Season 8″ square for CM Bingo 2021; it has now been so long that this chapter fills my “Season 8″ square for @cmbingo 2022! Oops. Better late than never.

Pulls directly from the events of SPN 7x17, The Born-Again Identity, and 8x9, Citizen Fang. And while the timeline is different because of the way I diverged from canon, part of this is directly inspired by the end of CM 8x13, Magnum Opus.

Sam stands in front of the window. A shadow of a person looks back at him from the glass. When he lifts his hands, turns them one way and then the other, inspects them, the shadow does the same.

His fingernails will start breaking. His hair will start falling out. The idea should bother him.

It’s a funny thing, having a body.

He doesn’t feel particularly connected to his body, or to that reflected image in the glass. The body is heavy, leaden, slowly failing on him. Sam, meanwhile, feels thin and worn, like a breeze could blow him right out of his body. Maybe that would be better. He wouldn’t mind that.

He presses his thumb into his palm, and the throb of pain makes him feel, for just a moment, that he has some measure of control. Maybe he shouldn’t be hurting his body like this, but he doesn’t have the energy to care.

It’s just blood and skin, and it’s been used to do terrible things, both by Sam and by others: Meg, Lucifer…

The last time this body was really his, and his alone, he was six months old.

Sam thinks about giving up. He’s so goddamn tired. He’s tired of fighting monsters and he’s tired of fighting the evil thing in his head and he’s tired of fighting for control of his own body.

It’s the thought of Dean that pulls him back. Dean wouldn’t forgive himself. Hell, Dean wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Dean wouldn’t accept it, more importantly. The only time Dean’s ever stopped fighting for him was when he was in the Cage, when heaven and hell hung in the balance. Even if he did find a way to end it, would Dean accept that choice? Or would Dean bring him back?

They always come back to each other.

Sam presses down on his palm, hearing Dean’s voice: believe in that. I am your flesh-and-blood brother, okay?

* * * * * * * * *

It’s after 2am when Spencer gets home. Maeve likes to keep the bedroom door open, and she’s a light sleeper, so he closes the front door carefully before tiptoeing through the dark living room to the kitchen. He turns on the oven light and pours a glass of water and makes himself drink all of it, standing there at the counter, and then he washes his hands, scrubbing with scalding-hot water until his skin is pink.

Spencer sits cross-legged at the table, but from there he can see his reflection in the window. He scowls at it and sits on the floor instead, with his back to the counter, and the linoleum is cool under him as he tries to breathe.

He curls up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, dropping his forehead, trying to let the tears out as quietly as possible. It almost hurts, holding back the deep wracking sobs, but he manages; there’s only the occasional gasping breath to give him away.

He’s so fucking tired of dead bodies.

It’s just like this, sometimes, after a bad case; his skin crawls and his bones ache like they’re tired of holding him together. It’ll pass. He knows how to take care of himself when he’s like this: time and space, darkness and quiet, solitude. Solitude and a soft blanket.

It was never a problem when he lived alone.

Maeve is always so happy to see him, so sweet, so affectionate. She hugs him, wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his chest, and she lets out a barely-there exhale when she does it, when she’s pressed as close as she can, like a sigh of relief that he’s really home. Even if it’s the middle of the night, she’ll reach out for him, still half-asleep, and snuggle close.

Most of the time, it’s wonderful. Spencer’s not a fan of touch, but she’s an exception; he feels so lucky to be able to touch her. She’s gotten used to his quirks — she knows not to sneak up on him, not to touch from behind him, to give plenty of warning. She understands, to the extent that anyone can understand a thing without feeling it themselves.

Tonight, though — and on other nights like it — the idea of another person’s body against his makes him feel sick and panicky, the sort of panicky that makes it difficult to breathe, let alone talk… or explain what’s wrong.

It was a couple months ago that they first ran into this problem. Spencer recoiled from Maeve’s welcome-home hug, and she got this raw, wounded look in her eyes. When he tried to explain, the words came out all wrong. She stared at him like he was crazy, and for a moment Spencer wondered if she was right.

They talked it out, and she asked if he would try to compromise, to meet her halfway. He said yes, but he’s still not sure what she wants from him. There is no halfway here. Either they’re touching, or they’re not.

The thing is, she gets anxious when he’s away. That first hug is her way of reassuring herself that he’s really there, solid and warm and breathing in her arms. He can see the effect it has on her, when he asks for space; she’s jumpy and unsettled, like it was worse to see him and not be able to touch than to be separated in the first place.

Last time, it made Spencer feel so guilty that he swallowed the discomfort and hugged her anyway. Then he had a full-blown panic attack, and she blamed herself, and everything was so much worse.

Touch, for her, is like coming ashore, like the first step onto solid ground. For Spencer, it’s like saltwater in his lungs. He wishes he could change for her, but he can’t. He spent thirty years trying and failing; his mind and his body have been at war for most of his life. He lost this battle a long time ago.

It’s easier this way, sitting on the kitchen floor and breathing through the shakes while she sleeps in the next room; it’s easier, but Spencer feels lonely, now, in a way he never did before she moved in. He was used to being alone, before she got here. Now he’s all too aware of the space between their bodies and what it means to each of them.

Sometimes he wonders if things weren’t better when he could love her from a distance.

* * * * * * * * *

Spencer’s arrival startles Sam out of his listless daze. He’s on the phone when he comes in, making a vaguely irritated face, and he immediately holds the phone out to Sam.

“It’s your brother,” he explains.

Sam takes the phone and sits on the edge of the bed, vision swimming with the exertion of the movement.

“Hey, Dean.”

“I think I found something,” Dean says gruffly. “I think… I think I found somebody who can help.”

“Yeah?” Sam’s too tired to feel anything at the pronouncement.

“We’re on the way, we’re just — we’ll be there in a couple hours. You just need to hang on a little longer. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says.

“How’re you feeling?” Dean asks.

“Fine,” Sam says, because that’s what they always say. “See you soon.”

“Just… a little bit longer,” Dean repeats, and Sam closes the phone, handing it back to Spencer. His hands are shaking visibly.

“How are you actually?” Spencer asks, and Sam almost manages to laugh.

“Not great.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Will it do any good?”

“It might,” Spencer says, and Sam raises a skeptical eyebrow. “No, really. Even if it’s uncomfortable… in theory, trauma therapy is like inoculation: flashbacks become much less severe if patients can find ways to acknowledge those memories without being overwhelmed by them. It’s a difficult balance, but it you let them in a bit at a time—”

“Too late for that,” Sam says abruptly. “Already let him in. That’s the whole problem, here, right? I said yes. I let him in.”

Spencer gives him a sharp, searching look. “Doesn’t mean that you deserve this.”

Sam’s exhale is shaky.

“I know,” he lies.

Spencer studies him, frowning, but doesn’t press the issue.

“I brought a book,” he says, and pulls it out of his messenger bag. “Figured… might help to get out of your head a bit? Focus on someone else’s life.”

Sam almost manages a smile at that, but he can barely concentrate on Spencer, let alone words.

“Not sure my eyes will focus long enough to read, honestly.”

“I can read out loud,” Spencer says.

Something about that offer twists deep in Sam’s chest, and his vision goes misty for a moment. When was the last time someone read to him?

It was years ago, and Sam remembers it all too well. He’d been sick and miserable. Dean had put on a brave face, but he couldn’t hide the way he kept looking out the window, wondering if their dad would come back.

* * * * * * * * *

“Thank you again,” JJ says, hugging Spencer tight, and then she hugs Maeve too. “You guys are going to make amazing parents someday.”

“My pleasure,” Maeve says.

Spencer adds, “Any time.”

He offers to drive, as they walk out, but Maeve brushes him off, just like she always does. She’s smiling, and there’s a sweet faraway look in her eyes, illuminated in gold from the streetlamp, as she pulls away from the curb. She’s so beautiful; it still takes him by surprise.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asks.

“Not sure,” she says, and she sounds happy about it. “There’s that concert in the park in the evening, and the new exhibit at the science museum…”

“I just —” he starts, and then swallows his irritation. “I’d like to make a plan. There are things I need to do tomorrow. I have a list.”

“Let’s figure it out together tomorrow morning, okay? I have a list too, I just don’t want to make a plan until I see what the weather will be like.”

Spencer resists the urge to pull out her smartphone and open the weather app for her.

He knows he shouldn’t be so controlling. He’s trying, he’s been trying so hard to be better — to be more flexible — to let things go.

Compromise. He needs to compromise.

“First thing?” he asks.

“First thing,” she promises.

“Okay.”

She turns on the radio — preset to NPR — and holds her hand out across the center console, palm up. Spencer laces their fingers together, squeezing gently and then letting go before he starts thinking about germs.

“JJ’s right, you know,” she says softly, and gives him a quick smile. “You’re going to be such a great dad.”

Spencer watches her for a moment, his chest tight, barely able to breathe for how much he loves her.

“You think so?”

“God, yes. I hope they get your bone structure,” Maeve comments.

He’s never really thought about that, somehow, in all the time he’s spent daydreaming about fatherhood; he’s never tried to imagine what his kids might look like.

Now he can’t stop thinking about it.

The thought keeps him awake, later, even when Maeve is snoring next to him. Spencer tosses and turns for an hour before he finally slips out of bed, grabbing his phone, finding his robe in the dim glow of the nightlight and pulling it on over his pajamas before he tiptoes out carefully.

He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on, looking resentfully at the box of Sleepytime tea, before texting Sam: Are you awake?

He just needs to unwind for a couple hours.

A few months ago, if he needed to think something through, Spencer would’ve made himself some coffee, put on a record, and played chess for the rest of the night.

Spencer’s busy dumping sugar into his mug when Sam calls. He feels a little bit panicky, and he’s pretty sure no amount of chamomile is going to change that.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Maeve wants kids,” Spencer blurts out.

There’s a long pause.

“Like… tomorrow?”

“No! God, no.” Spencer takes a sip of tea and burns his tongue.

“You want kids too. So… that’s good, right?”

“I really, really do. But she’s the first person I’ve ever met who I can imagine wanting to procreate with. This is… it’s not theoretical any more,” Spencer says slowly, trying to find the right words. “She said she hopes they have my bone structure.”

Sam laughs. “Fair enough. Shit, those would be some smart kids.”

“It made me think about genetics,” Spencer explains. “The issue is — what if — there are so many variables, and — there are so many things that could go wrong with physical genes alone. There are so many genetic diseases, I don’t know —”

“Whoa, hey, breathe. Okay?”

“Flesh and blood is the least of it,” Spencer says. His throat is tight. “What if they get the other genes too? It’d be my fault, and there are things in my genes that — that I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”

Sam lets out a long exhale in a crackle of static. “There’s the good stuff, too.”

“But it’s out of my control. And I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than — the rest of it. The stuff I can control. You know?” Spencer takes a sip of tea, realizes he’s left the bag in too long, and spits it right back out. “Because it’s one thing to roll the dice on genetics, but if I have a choice and I make the wrong choice… statistically, children of divorced parents —”

“You’re not going to turn into your dad,” Sam says firmly.

“It’s not that easy, though, is it? We say we want to break the cycle of what our parents did to us, but you only have so much control over your attachment patterns.”

Sam hesitates. His voice sounds heavy when he says, “I know how you feel. I wish I could be more reassuring, but… I know how you feel.”

* * * * * * * * *

Spencer goes to get lunch — or is it dinner? Time doesn’t have much meaning in the psych hospital; the dull yellow lights are always the same.

When he comes back, the doctor is leaning over Sam, shining a light in his eyes, and Spencer feels cold all over, for a moment, before Sam stirs.

“I can’t give you any more medication,” the doctor is saying grimly. “The potential for overdose is too great.”

Sam holds a hand up in front of his own face, looking at it dazedly. His fingernails are bloody. He doesn’t seem to notice Spencer.

“We need to talk about surgical solutions,” the doctor says, and Spencer frowns. He knows he shouldn’t interrupt, but that’s wrong. Something is wrong here.

Spencer cuts in: “There are no approved surgical methods to—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence because he’s choking. There’s an oily dark smoke streaming into his open mouth, funneling down his throat, filling his lungs, thick and sulfur-scented. The doctor glances at him, and his eyes are pure black.

Spencer can’t breathe.

By the time he realizes what’s happening, it’s too late. There’s someone else in his body.

It’s nightmarish, the sensation of being paralyzed while another consciousness controls his flesh and blood. All Spencer can do is watch, horrified, as his own hands strap Sam to a gurney and start to wheel him down the hall.

* * * * * * * * *

Sam throws the ball — watches Riot run for it — over and over again.

He wonders if he should just leave, give Amelia and Don a chance — would that be the right thing to do? Probably. They’re married, after all.

He’s angry. It’s an uncomfortable sensation; it doesn’t sit right in his chest.

He doesn’t want to leave.

Jessica feels like a lifetime ago, like it was an entirely different person who fell in love with her, but Sam thinks about her all the time. She was his first real relationship, and she had to teach him, sometimes, how to be in a relationship. He worked so hard to unlearn the patterns he’d been raised with.

When they fought, his first instinct was always to leave, and Jessica called him on it: “Why do you do that?”

“I just need some time,” he said. “I just need to get away for a bit, so I’m not — I don’t want to be angry with you. I hate fighting with you.”

“I still love you,” Jess said, rolling her eyes. “A fight isn’t the end of the world, Sam. It’s okay to be angry sometimes.”

It took Sam a few minutes to breathe through the panic, but Jess just waited patiently, holding his hand, reminding him that they were okay — that she still loved him — that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Sam knew it went back to his family. Dean and John would dig in their heels when they were angry, get their hackles up and fight back twice as hard when they were backed into a corner — when they realized they were wrong. Fight or flight was a normal enough response. It’s just that Sam’s family fought harder than most. Get them to a certain point of anger, and it would only end one way; Dean always hit a wall or a pillow or a monster, but John wasn’t so careful.

Sam learned that lesson the hard way. He learned that the best way to de-escalate was to walk away before things really got bad.

“You’re not your dad,” Jess told him gently. “You can do things differently. We’re gonna fight each other sometimes, but at the end of the day, we’ll fight just as hard to make this work. Together. Right?”

Riot nudges his nose under Sam’s hand, and Sam scratches behind his ears before he throws the ball again. He’s sitting on the porch steps that he fixed himself; half of them were rotted through, when they moved in.

The last time Sam stayed in one place for this long, he was with Jess.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. Sam of all people should know that you can only run for so long before the past catches up with you.

He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to walk out. That’s just another Winchester pattern; he can do things differently.

This is worth fighting for.

Amelia comes out and sits down next to him. She looks stunned, still.

“Thought about what you're gonna say to him?”

“I've thought about it and thought about it, and I still don't know.”

Sam takes a deep breath. “Look, I'm sure you have a lot of people telling you what the right thing to do is here.”

“Sam.”

“He's your husband, Amelia,” he says helplessly. “But I don't... I don't want to do the right thing. I mean, this is the right thing, you and me. And maybe I'm going to hell for saying this, but I'm not ready to give this up.”

“Neither am I.” Her face softens, and she slips her hand into his. “Would it bother you if I just took some time to clear my head?”

“Oh.” Sam tries to breathe. “Um… of course. Uh, take whatever time you need. I can just — I can go, for a bit.”

“You don’t have to, maybe I can —”

“No. No, it’s fine.” Sam forces a smile. “Might be good. I’ll hit the road, head out to DC. Give you a week or two. Okay?”

“Thank you,” she says, and her eyes are sad, but she does look relieved. “Thanks. I think that’d be good.”

Sam never unpacked his bag, from the trip back in January. It’s a little too easy to leave.

The worst part is, he’s not surprised. The cycles of his life run the same way, over and over again, whether he likes it or not. The past will always catch up. Sam will always leave, or be left.

* * * * * * * * *

Spencer can’t shake the lingering smell of sulfur.

He goes to the bathroom and washes his hands, splashes water over his face… when he looks in the mirror, he half expects to see black eyes staring back.

But it’s just him. He raises a hand, flexes the fingers, lifts his chin defiantly at his reflection. He’s in control of his muscles again, but it feels like his skin doesn’t fit quite right — as if the demon stretched it out of shape, like a sweater that’s been on a cheap wire hanger too long.

When he gets back, Dean and Castiel are still at Sam’s bedside. Dean looks furious.

“What the hell do you mean you can't?” he snaps.

“I mean there's nothing left to rebuild.”

“Why not?”

“Because it crumbled. The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now.”

“Are you really trying to just… magic this away?” Spencer asks incredulously. “That’s not how trauma works! You can’t just wall it up and pretend it doesn’t exist and then expect Sam to heal!”

“Why not? It worked the first time! If he hadn’t started poking at it —”

“So now it’s his fault?” Spencer exclaims.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just — I’m just trying to protect him!”

“You can’t protect someone from the contents of their own head. Sam’s the only person who can choose what to do here.”

“You got any better ideas, Doc? Cause believe me, I’m listening.”

Spencer’s voice is cold and furious when he says, “I would’ve suggested listening to Sam, but it’s a little late for that.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if your brother had been able to talk about what he experienced, maybe you could’ve avoided this in the first place!”

“Bullshit. He was tortured, Spencer, talking about that doesn’t just make it disappear!”

“Of course it doesn’t! Nothing can make that disappear. But that’s all you can do: you reach out, you connect, you talk, you process it… that’s how people heal: by learning how to let themselves be vulnerable. By rebuilding trust. Not by putting up more walls.”

“Now who’s the one saying this is Sam’s fault?” Dean barks. “Are you sayin’ that he deserves this for not talking about his feelings?”

“I’m saying maybe you need to think about why your brother doesn’t want to tell you things.”

Dean recoils like Spencer hit him. Then he pulls on his mask again, composes his features, and takes a step forward, making himself physically intimidating, like he wants Spencer to be scared of him.

“You’re out of line. You have no idea —”

“Look, I may not know magic, but I know psychology. The fact is… if everyone had someone to talk to — if they weren’t so afraid to ask for help instead of isolating themselves — I’d probably be out of a job.” Spencer forces himself to meet Dean’s glare without flinching. “Everybody puts up walls. Everybody tries to keep people out, or… protect people from what they’re dealing with. Whatever the reason, people think it’s safer that way. But the only way you can really get through the lowest points is by letting other people share the weight of whatever you’re trying to carry.”

Dean’s eyes are wide and startled and suddenly filled with tears, like that cut much deeper than Spencer intended it to. It’s hard to watch the way Dean looks down, turns away, shoulders heaving as he takes a deep breath.

“Maybe there’s something I can do,” Cas says thoughtfully. Spencer and Dean both turn to him. “Maybe… I can share it.”

* * * * * * * * *

Spencer arrives at Alex’s not long after Sam does. He gives Sam a genuine smile when he raises a hand in greeting, but it’s easy to see that he’s distracted; it’s like there’s a storm cloud over his head as he settles at the counter.

Alex just made a fresh pot of coffee. She passes them both mugs and sits across from them before saying to Sam, “So? That must’ve been a helluva shock. How are you feeling?”

Sam shrugs. He explained the basics of the situation to both of them on the phone, but he doesn’t really want to think about Amelia right now; the drive cleared his head, and there’s no point bringing all those anxieties back up.

“Guess that’s up to her,” he says softly, and shakes his head like he can physically shake the worry off. “How about you?” he asks Spencer. “How’s Maeve?”

Spencer gives him a weak impression of a smile, fidgeting with his coffee mug, turning it around in his hands. “She’s… good. Fine. She’s been at a conference, but she’ll be back tonight.”

Sam and Alex exchange a quick look.

“Do you miss her?” Alex asks, and her voice is gentle but her eyes are sharp.

“Not as much as I probably should,” Spencer says guiltily, and then he shakes his head and insists, “I love her, though. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Her mind is — she’s just — she’s brilliant. I feel like I could talk to her for the rest of my life and not get bored, but…” Spencer’s voice trails off. He shrugs, staring into his cup self-consciously.

“But?” Alex prompts.

Spencer hesitates. “When she’s here — when we’re just going through our lives together — a lot of the time I wish I was alone.”

“There’s a big difference between loving someone and being able to live with them,” Sam says wryly, thinking of Dean.

Spencer sighs. “I thought it’d get easier. I thought… maybe it would just take practice. Maybe I could change. Maybe when we learned how to communicate — but it’s like… the better we know each other, the harder it gets to live with each other.”

“I know you know this, but relationships are hard,” Alex says gently. “But you’re fighting for it. That’s all you can do, really.”

“How do I know when to stop fighting?” Spencer says, and the words burst out like he’s been holding onto them for a while. “Because I’m tired of it. I keep telling myself things will change, I’m trying to be optimistic, but at a certain point, optimism becomes delusion. What if fighting for the relationship means fighting against my own nature?”

“What do you mean by that?”

Spencer thinks about that for a moment. “I was doing some research, and I found a book—”

“Shocking,” Sam mutters, and Spencer cracks a smile.

“Well, it helped. It was about ‘love languages,’ and hers is touch. And that’s — that’s not —” He shrugs helplessly, then glances from Sam to Alex, like he’s silently pleading for them to understand. “That’s her love language, and to me it’s like speaking a foreign language. But that’s a flawed analogy, because I could learn a foreign language. Sometimes the idea of touching someone is just… I can’t.” He seems panicky just thinking about it, rubbing his palms on his corduroys like he’s trying to wipe them clean.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Alex says firmly.

“I know! I know that. I do. And it took me… years to learn that. It took me most of my life to learn how to be okay with myself.” Spencer takes a deep breath, shoving his hands through his hair, and the words start to come faster and faster. “There are parts of me that don’t fit, when she’s around; they don’t fit with what she wants, and I love her so much that I’ve started to hate those pieces of myself. And if I was fine to begin with… if I’m changing myself trying to fit her, is that self-improvement? Or self-mutilation?”

His voice breaks, and Spencer pauses, taking a deep shuddery breath, steadying himself.

Alex says, “If you don’t want to talk about it, Spencer—”

“No, it’s… it’s good, actually, it helps.”

* * * * * * * * *

They try to make Sam stay twenty-four hours for observation, but he sneaks out after twelve solid hours of sleep and one last look at Cas, still catatonic, through the window. Sam doesn’t like leaving him there, but there’s no other option, so they get in the car and start driving.

The rumble of the engine soothes him in a way that none of the psych meds ever did. Sam balls his jacket up against the window and settles in to get some more sleep.

“Hey, before you knock out,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the hesitation in his voice, hear the rough, tight sound of the words, like Dean doesn’t actually want to be saying them.

“Yeah?”

“Doc said something —” Dean stops, glares at the rearview like it’s personally offended him, and clears his throat. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Sam makes a dismissive sound. “Yeah, Dean. Sure.”

“No, I’m — I mean it, Sammy. You were carryin’ around some shit that a goddamn angel couldn’t handle, and I didn’t even know until it was too late. But. There’s nothing you could say that would make me walk away from you. Okay?”

Sam’s surprised by the way that twists in his chest like a knife.

“Okay,” he says, trying to smile, but his voice sounds bitter anyway.

“I know I don’t necessarily have a great track record with that,” Dean says. His mouth twitches down at the corners, and Sam realizes he’s close to tears. “I always come back, though. You’re my brother. I’m not giving up on you, not ever.”

How many times have they made this promise to each other? How many times have they vowed to be more honest, to stop keeping secrets, to stick together and not let anything come between them?

Nobody else could ever hurt him the way Dean has over the years, countless times: with fists and lies and disgusted glances; by walking and driving away; by slamming the door behind him; by leaving Sam over and over again.

They fall into these patterns, and it’s not healthy. If it was anyone else, Sam would’ve given up a long time ago, but it’s Dean. He loves Dean more than breathing.

I won’t leave.

Those are the words Sam’s always wanted to hear. He wants to believe it. He wants to believe they can be better.

It shouldn’t be so difficult to live with someone he would die for.

“Love you too, Dean,” he says quietly, and settles in to get some sleep.

* * * * * * * * *

It doesn’t quite look right without her. There are reminders of her everywhere, now — memories she left in her wake. There’s the lamp they picked out together — empty spaces on the shelves — empty drawers in the dresser… Spencer sees her everywhere, even in her absence.

She took her bookshelf — the one Spencer made space for in his apartment when she moved in. They put some of his books in a box in the closet, to make room, and added the extra shelf, and together they reorganized their combined collection until it all fit neatly in their shared space.

He wasn’t home when she came with her parents to pack everything up. He came back from the trip to find Maeve’s bookshelf gone, and the books from it were stacked on the floor. There were empty spaces on the remaining shelves, formerly tidy rows of books falling down, tilted to the side.

Now Spencer has to rearrange everything; he has to put his life back the way it was. Nothing fits the way it used to.

He hauls out the boxes of his books from the closet and starts to pull them out, but he has to reorganize everything, and he doesn’t know where to start. Then he sees the book she gave him, “The Narrative of John Smith,” inscribed with the quote in her handwriting, and it hurts to look at, but it hurts worse to imagine throwing it away.

Spencer wraps his arms around the book, holding it close to his chest, and curls up on the couch.

It was almost anticlimactic, in the end. Maeve looked resigned, but not surprised.

“We did everything we could, right?” Spencer asked. “I tried. I tried so hard.”

“Yeah, Spencer. We did everything we could,” Maeve echoed sadly. Then she kissed him on the cheek and walked out the door.

This isn’t how a love story is supposed to end.

He never expected a fairy tale or a simple “happily ever after.” He knew it would be work. But he always believed that if they fought for it, they’d win.

They did everything right. Why wasn’t that enough?

He’s settling in for a nice little depression nap when he hears the knock at the door, and he sighs. Getting up to answer the door sounds exhausting, and dealing with a sympathetic friend sounds even worse.

“Spencer, I know you’re in there,” comes Sam’s voice.

“I’m fine,” Spencer calls.

For a moment, there’s silence, and then Spencer hears a quiet click and scrape, the door handle jiggling slightly. By the time he recognizes the sounds of a lock being picked, the door is swinging open. Spencer sits upright and glares over the top of the couch.

“What the hell?” he says, and it sounds whiny even to his own ears.

“It was either me with my lock picks or Derek with his boots,” Sam tells him.

Spencer scowls at him and flops back down, but Sam just comes around the couch and settles in an armchair, raising his eyebrows in a decidedly judgmental way.

Spencer burrows deeper into the couch before mumbling, “I’m fine.”

“Clearly.” He gestures vaguely at Spencer’s overall state of disaster. “Why are you cuddling a book?”

“It’s not just any book,” Spencer says morosely. “It’s the book she gave me when — when we were supposed to meet up for the first time, and she wrote a quote inside, and… what if that was it? I mean, there’s nobody else like her.”

“Just because there’s nobody else like her, doesn’t mean there’s nobody else out there for you,” Sam says quietly. “It’s not about finding the perfect person. Nobody’s perfect. It’s about… the way you fit together.”

“I miss her,” Spencer confesses, and his voice breaks. “I know we didn’t fit, but I miss her anyway. Is that stupid?”

“No,” Sam says, without hesitating.

Spencer sits upright, with what feels like a massive effort. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and frowns down at the book, trying to find the right words.

“I was so lonely,” he says softly. “I told you, the first time we met; it’s lonely being the smartest person in the room. It’s lonely feeling like you can’t share parts of yourself.”

Sam gives him a sad little smile. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“So when I found someone who was like me, I thought that was it. I thought I’d found somebody who would stay. I really believed she was my soul mate.” He shrugs helplessly. “Why couldn’t that be enough?”

Sam frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped between them. His eyes go distant and his forehead wrinkles, and finally he offers, “Because you’re more than a soul.”

Spencer blinks at him a few times, surprised by that.

“What do I do now?” he asks, throat scratchy.

“You pick everything up and try again. You learn from it. What else can you do?” Sam shrugs. “But first things first. Let’s get you showered and caffeinated and we’ll go from there.”

“That sounds exhausting,” Spencer mutters, and flops down dramatically again.

Sam sighs. “Do I need to speak your language? Uh… love activates the ventral tegmental area of the brain and releases high levels of dopamine, and right now you’re experiencing physiological withdrawal the same way you would from an addiction. The best way to make yourself feel better is to engage in activities that will stimulate dopamine production. My brother would probably recommend beer and strippers, but — somehow I don’t think that’s what you need.”

“That’s irritatingly logical,” Spencer grumbles.

“You shower, I’ll make coffee. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Spencer puts the book down gently, gets to his feet, and shuffles toward the bathroom. His body feels too heavy.

He starts the shower, waits for it to heat up, and undresses quickly. The scalding-hot jet of it feels good on the tight muscles of his shoulders. Spencer sighs, breathing in the steam, and starts to clean himself up.

Life would be so much easier if he was only a soul.

Spencer’s been living in this body for decades, now. He knows it; he knows that those are his scrawny arms under his palms, his skin under the lather of soap, his flesh and blood — this body is part of who he is, but he’s not sure he’ll ever feel fully connected to it, let alone love it.

He gets out of the shower, towels off, and goes to brush his teeth. The mirror is fogged over; he wipes it with one hand and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Maybe it’d be easier to love himself if the face looking back at him in the mirror wasn’t quite so familiar.

Spencer looks down at the porcelain as he finishes brushing his teeth. He goes into his room and searches in the dresser for clean clothes — he hates seeing the empty spaces there.

When he goes to the kitchen, Sam is standing in the middle of the room, phone held to his ear, mouth slack with shock, face pale.

“Uh-huh,” he says. He doesn’t seem to notice Spencer. “Yeah. I’ll be there soon.”

He hangs up, staring numbly down at the phone in his hand.

“Everything okay?” Spencer asks.

“That was Dean.”

Spencer blinks at him a few times. “Your brother?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s smile is shaky. It stretches, cracks, goes crooked.

“I thought —”

“Apparently not,” Sam says, with a brittle, high-pitched laugh. “What am I — shit. I gotta go.”

“Just like that? What about Amelia?” Spencer asks quietly. “What about… everything?”

“I don’t know. I guess… I’ll figure it out.” Sam digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looks unsteady on his feet as he moves toward the door, steps jerky and mechanical. “It’s Dean. We always come back to each other.”

Part of Spencer wants to remind Sam of everything he’s built for himself, without Dean. Sam might not admit it, but Spencer knows how much it means to him, to have built a life for himself that doesn’t revolve around hunting — doesn’t revolve around his past, or anyone who might hold it against him.

Part of Spencer wonders if it’s healthy, the way that Sam’s willing to drop everything, without question, and drive across the country to go back to a brother who’s left him behind so many times.

But the truth is that all he feels, in this moment, is jealousy. He’s not sure what it’d be like, to love someone that much — to be willing to forgive them, just like that, over and over again.

Sam gives him a quick, tight hug and says, “Thanks for everything.”

“Of course.” Spencer lifts a hand in an awkward little wave. “See you soon.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, and he sounds surprised to find the words coming out of his mouth: “I’ll be back.”

Spencer’s surprised to find that he believes it.

The door closes behind Sam with a sharp, abrupt sound.

Spencer looks around at the mess again, and he feels very alone. He sits down next to a pile of books, so overwhelmed that it’s hard to breathe for a second.

He pulls out his phone and dials, and when Derek picks up, he says, “I think I need some help.”

* * * * * * * * *

There is only one serious question. And that is: Who knows how to make love stay?

-Tom Robbins

#cmbingo22 #criminal minds fic #supernatural #criminal minds #spencer reid #sam winchester #crossover #spn x cm #cm x spn

28 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Belong

Title: Belong

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Characters: John Winchester, Sam Winchester

Written for: @spnabobingo

Square filled: Oral Sex

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~900

Summary: You belong with him.

Warnings: angst, language, oral sex, voyeurism, sex party’s a/b/o style, dom!Dean, sub!Reader, nakedness, protective Dean, dirty talk, praise kink, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, fluff, aftercare, cuddling & snuggling, scenting, use of safe word, mentions of breeding parties (we will get back to that topic in another fic...)

A/N: This story belongs to my pack collection.

2021 SPN A/B/O BINGO masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Slow. Take your time,” he looks down at you, proudly puffing his chest. “Show them who you belong to.” Your alpha runs his hand over your head, gently patting you. “You’re such a good girl for me, my pretty girl. Go slow and remember our safety tap.”

You should be ashamed and scared to be half-naked and vulnerable in front of your alpha’s pack. You aren’t. Dean would never allow anyone to hurt you or take advantage of his omega. And this is what you wanted.

You want to be a part of his world, so you slowly start to bob your head and enjoy having the attention of all the alphas in his pack.

“You and I, sweetheart. There is no one else in this room,” he nods as you stop your motion, smiling softly to give you the chance to stop. “If you want to go, tell me so.”

You batt your eyelashes, mumbling around his twitching cock. For a moment you just hold his gaze before your eyes flutter shut.

“She’s so sweet and obedient,” the eldest alpha purrs as you gently cup your alpha’s balls to massage them. “I like her ass. Did you already have a taste?” John looks at your ass barely covered by a pair of red lace panties. “I bet she’s tight.”

“You wanted to get to know the girl belonging to me. No questions. No touching. No jerking off while she sucks my dick,” his emerald eyes darken, and you smile around him. “She agreed to get to know all of you and come to one of our parties. I never said I’ll share.”

“Fuck, she takes all of him down her throat,” you feel a presence behind as you slowly move back and forth. The alpha pats your head and you freeze as Dean’s eyes narrow. A deep guttural noise leaves his lips. He grits his teeth and snarls in the man’s direction. “I’d die to have a taste.”

“Hands off, Sam,” John grunts. “Sit over here and enjoy the show. No touching another alpha’s omega without his allowance. Dean said his omega is off-limits. You know the rules of the pack.”

You hear the other omegas purr behind you and the sound of a zipper coming down.

“Fuck, that’s it, slut. Take my cock down your throat like Dean’s perfect omega,” Sam grunts, frustrated. “If I can’t have her, all of you will get a load tonight. A shame Dean. She would’ve made the cutest noise while being sandwiched between us…”

Dean softly smiles as you struggle to move slow. You want to make him feel good and show his pack no one can make you feel better than you do.

You whine, releasing Dean’s cock. Tears well up to your eyes as you kneel in front of your alpha. It’s all too much out of a sudden. Sam’s words sent you spiraling and now, you don’t feel safe any longer.

“Red,” you breathe, and Dean immediately scoops you into his arms to bring you out of the room. “I’m sorry…so sorry…”

“All is good, sweetheart,” he kisses your hair, whispering soothing words. “Shit, I knew this would be too much. I didn’t want to overwhelm you, omega. I told you this is in the past. No more parties.”

“I-I wanted to know how it feels and what you felt,” you hide your face in his neck to eagerly inhale his scent. “I failed you. I’m sorry.”

“You did well, Y/N. I failed you. I shouldn’t have brought you here in the first place,” Dean walks a little faster to reach your shared room. “You’re safe with me.”

“I know,” you cry, hoping Dean will forgive you for failing him. “I just wanted to make you proud. Now everyone will believe I’m…”

“I will stop you right there,” he fumbles with the door handle, grunting as he opens the door, slamming it shut. “You did not fail me, baby girl. I failed you. This. These parties are in the past. I told you about all of this to give you choice. I wanted you to know about my past, not for you to join one of the breeding parties.”

“Oh,” you sniffle in his neck. “I thought…I mean…I wanted to do this for you, Dean. It was kinda arousing to feel their eyes on me but—"

“We will never do this again, omega,” Dean carefully places you onto the bed, immediately looking you all over. He kisses your temple, humming as you cover his hand with yours. “I’ll prepare a warm shower. I love you. You’re safe with me. How do you feel?”

“Better. Safe,” you whimper. “Loved. Warm.”

“Good girl. My beautiful girl,” he kisses your face, neck, and lips. “I love you so much, omega. My mate. My love.”

“So pretty and soft for me,” you mewl, enjoying the little praises leave his lips.

He helped you have a warm shower and wrapped you into one of his plaids. Now you are curled in his side, head resting on his chest.

One big warm hand runs up and down your back as he mumbles soft praises.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better than to agree to attend one of those parties. This is just not for me. I only want you to breed me.”

“Sweetheart, my love,” he purrs, eyes dilated as he looks down at you in his arms, “I’m gonna breed you soon. Your heat is due, and I promise, you’ll be full of my children at the end of your cycle…”

Tags in reblog.

#Belong #dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester #spnabobingo #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #alpha!dean x reader #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omegareader #alpha!dean #a/b/o #supernatural a/b/o

287 notes · View notes

apocalypseornaw · 4 years

Text

Keep Me From You

For the square "Temporary amnesia" on @girl-next-door-writes make me feel bingo

Warnings: mention of injury,cursing

Word Count: 10,201

Smidge of angst but lots of fluff

“Dean I’m fine. A few scratches but I’ll be home soon and you’re more than welcome to play nurse” You’d left a few days before to help Claire out on a hunt and had called him to say you were only about an hour out from Lebanon. “So you want me to wear the uniform and all?” he teased and heard you laugh. That was a sound that he’d always loved. “Of course I want the uniform, why would you even ask?” A smile slipped onto his face as hearing just how truly happy you sounded to be coming home to him. He’d never imagined getting this. Someone who really did love him and not only understood the life but lived it as well. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart” “Better be waiting for me at the door….” Your sentence was cut short by the sound of tires squealing then a hard hit.

Dean knew a wreck when he heard one and his heart fell to his feet “Y/N!” when you didn’t reply he screamed your name again which brought Sam running into the room. “What’s wrong?” Dean was already on his feet grabbing the keys to the impala “Y/N’s been in a wreck. We gotta get to her”

By the time Dean and Sam rolled on scene a passerby had called 911. Multiple cop cars, a couple ambulances and even a fire truck had the night lit brightly. Dean barely stopped the car from rolling before he was jumping out. Your car was on it’s side, the driver door crumpled in. “Y/N!” before he could get close Sam grabbed him along with three of the firemen on scene “Sir! We already got her out! She’s in the ambulance!”

Dean looked to see the ambulance in question pulling away “Is she alive?” The firemen nodded solemnly “She’s in critical condition but she’s alive” Sam pulled him back towards the impala “C’mon we’ll beat them to the hospital. We know her Dean she’s strong” Sam nodded to the firemen that he had Dean so they headed to finish cleaning up the scene. Dean looked at your car once more before following Sam “If the other driver isn’t in bad shape..I’ll kill em”

------

Sam took the lead to speak with the doctors because by the time they got to the hospital he didn’t really trust Dean to not throw a punch. “Mr Evanson..your sister in law is in critical condition as you were told at the scene. She was hit by a drunk driver that ran a red light. She’s got multiple contusions, a fractured skull and a dislocated shoulder” the fake names had you as Dean’s wife should something like this happen and Eileen as Sam’s. Helped to have insurance and provided a cover story so all of you could get updates on each other should injuries ever occur severe enough to warrant a hospital trip.

Before Sam could open his mouth to ask any questions further about your condition Dean spoke up “Let me guess the bastard that hit her is just fine right?” Sam couldn’t really blame Dean. You were one of his best friends and knowing you made it out of a hunt just fine to turn around and get hurt this severely by an idiot who drank too much and chose to get behind the wheel was more than upsetting. “Mr Evanson I know you’re upset but I assure you we’re doing everything for your wife we can” Sam could tell Dean was doing what he did best which was to lean into anger more than any other emotion so before he could fire off threats to a doctor or worse Sam grabbed his arm then looked back at the doctor “When can we see her?” “As soon as she’s settled into the room I’ll send a nurse out to get both of you”

The moment the doctor stepped away Dean spun around and hit the wall hard enough his fist left a hole in the plaster. “She was talking to me Sam. What if I distracted her? What if she would’ve seen him sooner if she hadn’t been on the phone?” “Dean, don't do that to yourself. This isn’t your fault” It shocked Sam more than anything to see Dean wasn’t trying to hide the tears in his eyes when he faced him “I can’t lose her Sammy” “You won’t. I’m gonna call Eileen and Jody to let them know. She’ll be ok. Let the doctors do what they can then if need be we’ll find other means to help her. She’s strong, she’s a fighter and honestly I think it would take a lot more than a wreck to keep her from your side” “Let’s hope you’re right”

------

A little over an hour passed with Sam and Dean pacing across the waiting room. The other inhabitants of it and staff alike were giving both men a wide berth, Dean even moreso. The air around him was thick with the mixture of anger at you being in this shape and fear at the possibility of losing you.

When a nurse finally walked in and asked “Mr Evanson and brother?” Dean snatched his head up “Over here” she smiled warmly at him “Your wife is out of surgery and stable. Would you and your brother like to see her?” “Please” Dean managed trying to remember it wasn’t this woman’s fault you were hurt.

------

The walk to your room felt longer than anything Dean had even endured. When he walked in to see your still form he could feel his hands ball into fists. You were the single most important person on the face of the earth to him besides Sam. Your head was bandaged, your left shoulder was in a sling and both arms had gauze nearly covering every surface. “When’s she gonna wake up?” Sam asked knowing Dean needed an answer but also knowing his brother wouldn’t be very good at communicating at the moment.

“That’s a tricky question. It’s really up to her. She’s in stable condition, there’s no bleeding on her brain. Now it’s just up to her body” “Thank you. Can we stay with her a while?” “You both can stay an hour but only one can stay overnight” “Thank you” the nurse walked away and Sam turned back to see Dean was motionless at the foot of your bed.

“Dean?” Sam called jarring him out of his thoughts. “She’s a hunter. I’ve seen her hurt and I’ve known that there was always a possibility of something happening to one of us but she was fine, she was headed home and laughing” Dean had walked up next to your bed and left his fingers barely brush against the leather bracelet tied around your wrist. It was a gris-gris gifted to you by a witch in New Orleans three years before, just a couple months before you and Dean had gotten together actually.

You’d helped her out and it was supposed to protect you from evil. You hadn’t taken it off since citing that it was a lucky charm too considering you hadn’t gotten seriously injured on a hunt in quite a while. Turned out it only worked on supernatural beings not human actions. “She’s gonna be ok Dean” Sam repeated as Dean gently took your hand in both of his and sat down in the chair next to the bed before looking up at his little brother “How can you be so sure?” “I’ve seen her fight and I’ve seen how much she loves you. She’s not leaving us like this”

------

The two of them stayed like that for the next hour barely talking, simply watching you breathe. When the hour passed Sam headed back to the bunker while Dean stayed rooted in the chair holding your hand. “Remember when we first met? God I thought you hated me because of my dad..he had a habit of turning people into enemies. I’ve never seen Bobby laugh as hard as talking about the time you backed dad down on a hunt by calling him a washed out jarhead that didn’t know a vampire from a rugaru. Baby you’ve survived so much..you’re stronger than anyone I know” he didn’t even realize he was crying before the droplet hit your hand.

“Please come back to me. I don’t want to do this without you. I love you” he nearly whispered the last part willing you to hear him and open your eyes.

------

For three days Dean sat at your side. Sam would bring food and clothes. Eileen had of course headed back to Lebanon when she heard what happened and Jody along with all the girls had been in near constant contact. You had so many people behind you but the horrifying reality was it didn’t matter how much backup you had this time. This fight was a solo one.

The nurses and doctors assured him that you were healing. Your body was simply mending itself and keeping you asleep to save energy to do so. He didn’t care about anything they said he needed you awake to see for himself that you were ok.

It was during visitor hours so Eileen was sitting across the room flipping through a magazine while Sam had gone after coffee. The hardest thing for any of them was simply being forced to sit around and wait to see if you’d wake up on your own. Of course Rowena was digging around to see about some spells to help speed up healing but those were a bit fragile and out of her usual wheelhouse which was to cause damage to someone instead of healing them.

“Dean they were out of sugar so I had to put artificial sweetener in yours” Sam spoke from the doorway as he walked into the room. Dean shrugged “I don’t care” Sam shared a look with Eileen when he handed her coffee over. She signed “I’m worried about him” so Sam nodded and mouthed “Me too” before walking over to hold Dean’s coffee out to him.

Dean took it then looked back at the bed “Why isn’t she awake yet Sammy?” “Head injuries take a little more to heal Dean” Sam offered but knew it was of little solace. All of them wanted nothing more than for you to wake up. Sam walked back over to stand next to Eileen but a movement of your hand had all of them on their feet and next to the bed “Y/N?” Dean spoke first and when you opened your eyes they all shared a sigh of relief “Thank god baby” Dean breathed moving to press a kiss to your lips but you snatched your head away “Dean, what the hell?”

------

Your head felt like it’d been run over by a truck. You felt like you were drunk and there wasn’t a body part that didn’t hurt. When you finally forced your eyes open you realized you were in a hospital room. Sam, Dean and Eileen was next to your bed meaning you must have gotten hurt on a hunt but you couldn’t remember how.

“Thank god baby” baby? Did Dean just call you baby? Before you could ask he leaned forward as if to kiss you so you snatched your head away not missing the look on his face as you said “Dean, what the hell?”

“Y/N? What's the last thing you remember?” Eileen asked stepping closer to the bed while Dean backed away obviously hurt but you weren’t sure why he’d called you baby or tried to kiss you. You were friends yeah but he’d never acted like he had those feelings for you. You realized your head hurt even worse when you tried to think of why he would be hurt but a memory finally came to you of you and Eileen working a shifter case in Austin. “The shifter?” you asked hesitantly and saw her eyes widened.

“Eileen? What’s wrong?” you asked grimacing when you tried to sit up further only to realize your left arm was in a sling. Sam moved to help you and you noticed Dean looking rather lost standing off to the side of the room. She looked over at him sympathetically before finally saying “Y/N that case was over three years ago”

------

Three years? You’d lost three years worth of memories. Dean had slipped out the room after alerting the Doctor Rhodes you were awake and once Eileen assured Sam she’d stay at your side he went after his brother. You were only half listening to the doctors as they gave a run down of the wreck you’d been in and the injuries you’d received. “Well if you’re saying my brain is fine why the hell do I have a three year gap in my memory?” you knew you were being a bit blunt but given the circumstances you felt it was warranted.

“Mrs Evanson this is common in an injury like yours” the nurse nearest you spoke so you cut your eyes at Eileen silently questioning the name they’d called you. She smiled and touched Doctor Rhodes on the shoulder. When he turned to look at her she motioned to you “Can I have a few moments alone with her before you take her for tests?” he looked back at you then nodded. After he and the nurses finally exited your room giving a warning that transport would be there in twenty to take you down for a cat scan Eileen came over and sat gently on the side of your bed facing you “Ask” You looked around the room eyes settling on Dean’s jacket that he’d left draped over the back of one of the chairs “What have I missed?” she followed your line of sight over her shoulder then smiled sadly before looking back at you “The shifter case was only a month before you and Dean got together” “We’ve been together three years?” you asked making sure you were facing her fully as you spoke. “Yeah. For the insurance he’s listed as your husband and Sam’s listed as mine since me and him have been together two and a half years”

You felt tears sting your eyes as the realization of why Dean had looked so hurt when you pulled away from him hit you at once “Why don’t I remember? God he must hate me” She covered your right hand with hers lacing your fingers together and the familiarity of that small action bought a smile to your face as she leaned down to look you in the eye before saying “Believe me when I say there is nothing on earth you could do to make that man hate you sweetie. Now I’ll be here when they get you back from the tests but I’m gonna go find him and Sam in the meantime ok?” you nodded not trusting your voice at the moment so she kissed your forehead then nodded to the nurse that had just just stepped into the door before walking out.

------

Eileen found Sam and Dean outside in the parking lot. They were leaned against the side of the impala staring at the entrance of the hospital. When they saw her they both pushed off the car Sam getting to her side first while Dean was a little slower to approach “How is she?” Sam asked and Eileen shrugged “She found out she’s missing three years. How would you be?” Then her eyes drifted over to Dean “She’s afraid you’re gonna hate her because she doesn’t remember being with you” “I could never hate her especially for something that’s not her fault” he quickly replied and she nodded “That’s what I told her but I think you need to be in the room too when she gets back from having her scans done”

------

You were in short terrified. The scans showed that your skull was healing quite well actually and as far as structural wise your brain was in good shape and according to Doctor Rhodes your memory loss was more than likely temporary. The bad news? In cases like yours those memories could return in a matter of weeks or a matter of years. There was no way to estimate the amount of time it would take from one person to the next.

“When can I go home?” you asked adding in your head the fact that you weren’t exactly sure where home was these days. “In a couple days at this rate and I’d say within two to four weeks you can return to normal life” There was a knock on the door and one of the nurses peeked her head in “Her husband, brother in law and sister in law want to come in” Doctor Rhodes looked back at you so you nodded with a small smile “Do you remind going back over what you’ve told me?”

“Of course” he nodded to the nurse so she stepped back out and a moment later Eileen walked in trailed by Sam then finally Dean “Mr Evanson your wife asked me to go over the findings from her test with the three of you” you barely met Dean’s eyes while he listened to Doctor Rhodes despite the fact that his gaze never left your face. When the doctor mentioned you’d be going home in a couple days if you stayed healing at this rate Dean shared a look with Eileen that you didn’t miss before the three of them thanked the doctor then he excused himself.

“So turns out I was right Dean, you do have the harder head” you tried to tease but heard your voice fall flat at the end. You wanted nothing more to remember the last three years of your life. The three people standing in front of you meant the most to you yet you could only remember so much and apparently now shared your life with one of them but couldn’t so much as remember ever sharing a kiss with him.

“Y/N..Eileen told me what you said” Dean spoke, stepping closer to the bed. He tapped the bed close to your leg but didn’t touch you “Sweetheart there’s nothing that could make me hate you. I was on the phone with you when the wreck happened. I’ve never been more afraid in my life and just seeing you awake? That’s a win for me” “I want to remember if that helps any Dean.I wish I did because it seems we’re happy” “I’d like to think we are” he replied with a small smile. You moved your leg closer to his hand so he took the hint to gently touch you near your ankle.

“While we’re all here talking..can someone tell me where is home for me?” you asked embarrassed over not being able to remember such a small detail “Um you live at the bunker” Sam answered cutting his eyes at Dean who nodded “You’ve been living there for about two years full time” “Oh then I guess we’re really serious then huh?” your voice was low enough you weren’t exactly sure Dean had heard you until he said “Yeah” meeting your eyes for a second before clearing his throat “Um visitation is over in an hour. I was gonna stay but if that’s weird for you I’m sure Eileen or Sam would”

“Of course” they both spoke over each other then shared a small smile. Your heart ached seeing the look on Dean’s face at the two of them so in sync while you didn’t remember him. “Maybe Eileen could stay? She can help fill in some blanks since I remember hunting with her last?” you offered and Dean nodded “Of course sweet..Y/N” you noticed how he stopped himself from calling you sweetheart. Christ you’d been friends with Dean for so long. He was the best man you’d ever known but you also knew he had the self worth of a grape and you could only imagine what this was doing to him. “Thank you Dean” you whispered and he smiled slightly “Of course”

------

Dean didn’t really talk much before him and Sam left for the night but he did ask if you wanted him to bring you a change of clothes since the nurse said you could shower with assistance the next morning. “Please” you told him and with a sharp nod he was out of the room. Sam left a quick kiss on Eileen’s lips then one on your forehead before quickly following after him.

You watched the door where they’d disappeared for several seconds before Eileen touched your arm gently and you jumped which pulled a small smile to her face “Are you ok?” she asked so you nodded then turned your head to look at her fully “I was in love with him wasn’t I?” she slowly nodded. You let out a breath then leaned your head back against the pillows before asking “How did that shifter case turn out anyways?” she laughed then went into the story talking and signing what had happened trying to catch you up to speed without overwhelming you.

------

Sam found Dean sitting in the library at one of the long tables around three in the morning. There was a bottle of bourbon in front of him and a glass with a piece of ice watering down what of the brown liquid was in it. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, pulling the chair out across from Dean after grabbing himself a glass. Dean cut his eyes up at him “Would you be able to if it was Eileen?” “No” Sam wasn’t even going to attempt to lie, Dean knew him too well. “I don’t want to put any stress on her because she doesn’t remember”

“You’re not. She knows now that you’re not mad that she doesn’t remember. Give Eileen a little time to ease her into the last few years besides Doctor Rhodes said her memory could be fully back within a couple weeks” “Or a couple years” Dean interrupted which earned him a glare from Sam “If you’ve ever had faith in anything..have faith in Y/N” “What if this is nature’s way of a course correction? She deserves better than me and maybe this is the universe trying to say that”

Sam reached over and pulled the glass out of Dean’s grip then moved the bottle for good measure before saying “The only thing this says is that assholes shouldn’t drink and drive. She’s coming home in a couple days Dean and the familiar setting may help her memory..Rowena is getting there with the spells especially now that she knows to tweak it to memory wise. We’re gonna get her memory back Dean..we will” “I hope you’re right Sam, I really do”

------

Today was a big step in the right direction. You were finally checking out the hospital to head home. Eileen had mentioned Cas would be at the bunker when you got there so that meant at least for your physical wounds you could get healed, who knows maybe angel mojo would effect your memory as well? Not likely but it didn’t hurt to hope did it?

When the nurse knocked on the door she smiled to see you were tying your sneakers onto your feet. Eileen had stayed in the room with you while Dean went to pull the impala around to the exit you’d be coming out of. “Must I ride in the wheelchair? I mean I think I’m capable of walking” you asked and she grimaced “Sorry Mrs Evanson it’s hospital policy” Eileen winked at you then teased “Besides you get to ride in style out” riding in style was the collection of get well soon items that had found their way to your room from your friends. The one you liked the best was the little stuffed wolves that Garth and Bess had sent by Donna. The nurses didn’t quite understand the significance of them but you’d seen even a small smile work it’s way onto Dean’s face. Over the next few days though it was only supposed to be the four of you at the bunker well plus Cas. You weren’t being anti-social but you could also only bare so much guilt at a time from not remembering certain things.

Eileen bumped your arm and when you glanced her way she signed “Stop it” “You don’t read minds” you replied and she winked “No but you I can read” you sighed and climbed into the wheelchair while Eileen grabbed the bag carrying your presents. Sam was back at the bunker apparently switching your belongings to a different room. Eileen had let it slip that he offered to do it so Dean wouldn’t have to.

“Take me away” you told the nurse who smiled “I can say you have remained in good spirits the entire time you’ve been here and that bodes quite well for your recovery” you shrugged your good shoulder as she pushed you out the door “I can wallow or deal. I always work better by gritting my teeth and doing what I gotta do regardless”

------

The sun was bright in the sky when you finally were wheeled out of the exit. When Dean saw the three of you he quickly came around to open the passenger door and moved to help you but stopped just sigh of touching you then looked at your face for the ok. When you reached for his hand his whole body seemed to relax slightly “Mrs Evanson you have a follow up for a scan in three weeks but if any new symptoms occur such as headaches, blurry vision, dizziness feel free to come in before and if any pain outside the expected occurs feel free to come back in”

“She will” Dean and Eileen answered in unison so you shot the nurse a smile “I have a lot of people looking after me. I’ll be fine”

After you were in the passenger seat the nurse waved then headed back inside. Eileen climbed in the backseat behind you and reached up to pat your shoulder reassuringly while Dean walked around to climb in the driver’s seat. “Ready to go?” he asked and you nodded “Let’s get home”

------

You vaguely remembered the internal set up of the bunker. You’d been there a time or two and even stayed the night once but as far as knowing it as well as you should considering how long you’d apparently been calling the bat cave home? You were far from it.

Eileen headed down the stairs first followed by Dean then you walking slowly down. Everything in the map room was pretty much how you remembered it including the angel sitting at the table talking to Sam who smiled when he saw the three of you “Y/N” you pulled him into a hug as best as you could “You’re a sight for sore eyes there Cas” he ducked his head and started to explain “I couldn’t exactly come to the hospital to heal you” “I understand Cas. Just saying it’s good to see you” he nodded then looked to your left arm “Can I?” “Please” you replied with an excited smile.

Cas had healed you before but it was always a bit surreal. He laid his hand palm down on your forehead and you felt the warmth spread throughout your body. You closed your eyes and felt your shoulder stitch itself back and the tender spot in your head from the fractured skull fade to a dull ache then disappeared all together.

When you opened your eyes everyone in the room was staring at you expectantly. You tried to force memories of being with Dean into your mind but they refused to come. You shook your head sadly “Healed me physically” “I’m sorry Y/N. Memory is something different than physical injuries” Cas apologized but you shook your head “No Cas. Thank you. Since the physical part is no longer an issue I can start trying to concentrate on my memory”

You didn’t miss the disappointed look in Dean’s eyes and apparently neither did Eileen because she touched your arm “Y/N why don’t I show you your room?” you smiled appreciatively at her “Sounds good. Cas are you staying?” he shook his head “No I’ve got to get back” you hugged him again “In that case be careful out there and thank you again”

------

You heard the three guys talking while you let Eileen direct you down the hall and tried to block it out. One worry at a time. She pointed to one door “That’s mine and Sam’s room” then pointed to the next door “This one is empty” the door a little further down the hall she pointed to “Um this is Dean’s room” you swallowed hard at the unadded words which were “Until a few days ago this was your room as well” and followed her down to the room right to Dean’s “This one is yours”

You walked in behind her and looked around the room. You recognized the weapons laid about as your own. That was definitely your jacket tossed across the chair in the corner. A black blanket with red swirls was folded on the foot of the bed. When you touched it she smiled “That’s your blanket you usually want. Dean’s been using it but he got me to wash it and fold it for you” you nodded feeling very much overwhelmed “Um Eileen is it ok if I say I want to be alone?” she nodded “Of course. I’ll be in the library with the boys, your phone is on the charger so if you need me cause you know hollering for me won’t work” you managed a small laugh at that and signed “Thank you” since you know had use of both hands again.

She walked out and shut the door gently behind her. You sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. There was a since of familiarity tugging at you being in the bunker but you weren’t sure if it was true or just the fact of your own desire to remember. After a while you started feeling tired so you laid down across the bed pulling your blanket over you. A small nap wouldn’t hurt then maybe you could wander around a bit after everyone else went to bed.

------

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when you heard a small knock at your door. You sat up smoothing a hand over your head “Yeah?” then kicked yourself when you realized it could be Eileen but the door opened before you could cross over to it and it was Sam standing in your doorway instead “Dean and Eileen ran into town to grab some food and a few other things we needed. I had to convince them both I would check on you” you smiled at that then stepped back so he could come into the room.

He sat down on the chair that your jacket was draped across so you sat down on the foot of the bed right across from him “How is he?” you asked and Sam raised an eyebrow “How are you?”

You sighed “Apparently I am in a stable relationship and can’t remember past being friends. At least Cas could get the wounds on the outside healed?” he nodded then glanced around before rubbing at the back of his neck “He’s ok” “Sam” you warned so he half smiled “He’s blaming himself of course. You were on the phone with him when the wreck happened” “Christ could it get any worse?” you groaned and Sam leaned up to gently touch your leg “Yeah. You could’ve died. We can deal with this. I know we can” you nodded and laid your hand on top of his “Thanks Sam” he smiled “So do you want to check out the rest of the bunker while it’s just the two of us or go back to sleep?”

“Can I sneek a peek in Dean’s room?” he shrugged “Hell why not?” You followed him out into the hall and stopped him right as he put his hand on the door leading into Dean’s room “Are you sure I should?” He nodded “Yeah. It may help” you took a breath and followed him in. The room didn’t look that much different then the one they had moved your things into at first then on second glance the differences popped out to you.

There was your shotgun on the wall underneath Dean’s. A photo of you, him, Eileen and Sam was on the nightstand. A few albums that were clearly your taste in music was next to his radio and there were two sets of headphones instead of one. You walked over slowly and picked up the photo. The boys were sitting on Jody’s couch and from the looks of it had pulled you and Eileen down into their lap probably seconds before the photo was snapped considering you and her were both laughing. “It was the day Alex got into nursing school” Sam explained coming to stand next to you looking over your shoulder at the photo.

“We all look so happy” you whispered running your fingertips across Dean’s face. “You’ll get your memory back just give it time” he replied and you sighed then sat the photo down “I know. Let’s check out the rest of the bunker so maybe I can have my nerve enough to face Dean by the time they get back”

------

You had made your way into the library by the time Dean and Eileen came back from town. The few times you could remember coming here you’d been impressed by the extensive collection of lore this place held. You trailed your fingers along the spines of the books reading different titles. “I think you’ve read most of the books in here at least once” you heard from behind you and turned to see Dean leaned against the doorway watching you with a small smile on his face.

You sighed and said “Hopefully I’ll actually remember reading them sooner rather than later...well and other things too” the last part you added in a whisper but you saw the way his expression changed “Y/N I don’t care how long it takes I’m not going anywhere. You may not remember the last few years right now but I do, I know this is worth fighting for” “So you don’t blame yourself then?” you asked crossing your arms over your chest and saw the barest hint of a grin pulling at his lips again “Ok that look is too familiar and I’m guessing by you asking me that you’ve talked to Sam while we were gone?”

You nodded “Dean they said a drunk driver hit me. It wasn’t your fault hell if I hadn’t been on the phone with you it could've been a lot before all of you knew what had happened to me.” He nodded slowly “Not like you have always had a habit of kicking my ass if I’m too hard on myself” that made you laugh lightly “Ok that I do remember and yes someone needs to!”

He nodded back towards the kitchen “We got some food. Eileen tried to remember what your favorite was but couldn’t quite remember so we got a few different things” You smiled “I’m sure I’ll like whatever I’ve never really been picky” the two of you stood there after that staring at each other for a few heartbeats before you heard Sam call yours and Dean’s names “Guessing that’s our cue to come eat?” “Guessing so”

------

You sat next to Eileen at the table turned halfway towards her so if you said anything she wouldn’t have to turn to read your lips. Sam was sitting across from her and Dean was across from you. You always loved california rolls but now you were simply pushing them around in the little tray. “Not hungry?” Sam asked motioning to your plate. You shrugged “Guess not. Want them?” Eileen reached over before Sam could move “I’ll take them” you laughed at the look on Sam’s face “Snooze ya lose Winchester”

You glanced over at Dean’s plate to see the burger in front of him was barely touched as well “Dean you’re not gonna eat?” he shrugged “Not that hungry” you sighed and drank the last little bit of your lemonade then stood up “I think I’m gonna grab a shower and call it an early night” “If you need anything” Eileen started and you nodded then signed “I know” Dean glanced up so you smiled “Night Dean” “Night Y/N” “Night Sam” you called over your shoulder before you walked out the kitchen and heard him say “Night” as you stepped into the hall.

------

Everything felt wrong. The bed felt wrong, your clothes felt wrong. There was a gaping hole craving the memories of the last three years and there was nothing you could do. You tossed and turned most of the night until finally calling it.

You dug around and found a thicker pair of socks so you pulled them onto your feet then grabbed the black and red blanket to wrap around your shoulders before stepping out into the hallway. You weren’t sure what part of the bunker you were headed to but you hoped maybe to clear the confusion in your head. The library called to you so you let your feet carry you in that direction.

You walked aimlessly around the rows of books letting your fingers graze some of them. God there was everything from classic literature that book collectors around the world would sell their souls for all the way to books describing just how bad of an idea that would be and why. You ended up not picking a book and instead just pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down.

You smiled when you saw Sam and Dean’s initials carved into the tabletop. It matched where they’d carved their names in the impala back when they were kids. You traced Dean’s initials and seriously considered waking him up to talk but decided against it. Just like you needed time to adjust you were quite certain he needed some time too. One moment he’d been with a woman for three years the next that woman didn’t even have a memory of a shared kiss.

You sighed and pushed away from the table. You had seen a laptop in your room hopefully it wasn’t password protected,maybe you could watch a movie or something.

Within a week and a half of being released from the hospital you were going absolutely stir crazy and what was even worse you knew everyone was sitting out of cases to be there with you.

You walked out of your room after grabbing a shower and headed towards the kitchen. Sam and Eileen were normally up before Dean you’d learned so you were hoping it was just the two of them again. When you walked around the corner you nearly froze in your tracks to see Dean pouring a cup of coffee. He cut his eyes up and almost smiled when he saw you then motioned with the coffee in his hand “Want a cup?” You mentally kicked yourself as a reminder to speak and forced a small smile onto your face “Please”

He nodded and turned to grab another cup. You stood there not missing the looks Sam and Eileen were sharing while Dean poured the coffee and held the cup out to you. You took it from him letting your fingers barely touch his hand “Thanks Dean” “Sugar’s on the counter and creamer’s in the fridge” he replied with a tight smile then walked over to sit next to Sam.

You couldn’t help but over the conversation between the three of them which consisted of the fact that Donna apparently needed help and that Garth had asked Sam if him and Dean could check in on some strange occurrences. “Why don’t you all go?” you asked turning to face the three of them and repeating yourself in asl for Eileen. “We don’t want to leave you alone” you nodded slowly then said “I have a cell phone. Sam just gave me a new one all set up yesterday. Not to mention I’m in literally one of the safest places on earth. I think I can manage for a day or two. Seriously I feel horrible that I’m keeping all three of you cooped up, go I’ll be fine”

The three of them knew you well enough to know that if you had your mind set on something you were far too stubborn to let it go that easily. Sam and Eileen shared a few hushed words followed by Sam and Dean having a whispering match before Dean finally sighed loudly “Fine! I’ll meet you outside in twenty”

You watched him walk out then glanced at Sam questioningly “What was that about?” “He still doesn’t feel comfortable leaving you but he agreed to go check out Garth’s lead” Eileen looked up from her phone with a grin “I texted Donna that I’ll come help her and she said to tell you and I quote can’t wait till Y/N is back in action. I miss her face” you laughed lightly and said “Well be careful and tell Donna I miss her face too”

------

Sam and Eileen left to go grab what they needed so you wandered back towards your room but stopped when you saw Dean’s bedroom door was open. You knocked lightly on it and half a second later he stepped around it and stopped in his tracks when he realized it was in fact you and not Sam or Eileen. “Y/N..something wrong?” you shook your head “No I was just wondering if maybe I could talk to you just for a second?”

He stepped to the side and waved a hand into the room “Of course” you walked in and sat in one of the chairs at the small table in his room so he sat across from you. You took a deep breath before saying “Dean..if my memory doesn’t come back” “It will” he cut you off and you couldn’t help but smile at just how certain he sounded “Please let me talk” “Sorry go ahead”

You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He stared down at your intertwined fingers as you started to speak again “If my memory doesn’t come back and you want to move on there’s no hard feelings” his eyes flew up to yours “Sweetheart I knew you’d hit your head hard but damn I didn’t realize it’d done you that bad” “What?” you asked with a shocked laugh.

He slowly raised your joined hands up to his mouth before just barely letting his lips brush across your knuckles “Y/N listen to me good here darling....I love you more than I ever dreamt possible. A future for me? Naw I never really thought about it before you but since the moment you first told me you love me I feel like maybe one day I can actually be the man worthy of you. I’m never walking away from you. If it takes two months or twenty years, I’ll still be right here” you had tears in your eyes by the time he’d finished talking “Christ no wonder I’m in love with you. Who would’ve thought Dean Winchester is a romantic at heart” he chuckled before saying “Only for you sweetheart..only for you”

You pulled your hand from his and saw his face fall slightly before you said “Come home in one piece?” “Nothing could keep me from you” he replied and you had a sense of almost dejavu as if that was something that was said a lot between the two of you but you didn’t want to ask and get his hopes up just for dejavu.

“Dean..you ready to go?” Sam called from the hall but stopped when he saw the two of you sitting across from each other “Or we can wait. A few minutes wont hurt” you held Dean’s eyes as you said “No Sam, you two need to get going. I’m gonna go see Eileen off” you stood to walk out but stopped to pat Sam’s shoulder “I expect you both back here just the way you’re leaving”

“Bye Dean” “Bye Y/N” you smiled at Sam then headed to tell Eileen your usual parting and wish her a safe hunt.

------

Everyone was due back to the bunker within a few hours so you were currently folding laundry in your room. Things were starting to hold a sense of familiarity to them but you weren’t certain if it was true or if you were simply wanting to remember so badly you were tricking your own brain into saying it remembered when it truly didn’t.

You’d started texting with Jody, Alex and Claire. You felt horrible that you didn’t remember Claire’s girlfriend Kaia or the newest addition to the wayward daughters as you called them Patience but the girls were more than understanding and were wading in little by little to catch you up on any and all memories involving them.

Your phone chimed from where it sat next to the bed so you walked over to pick it up and saw a text from Sam which read “We’re two hours away and Eileen is an hour out” you smiled knowing everyone was safe and texted back “Make it back in one piece and then I’ll be happy” then sat the phone down and returned to putting your laundry away.

You pulled out one drawer and stopped. Your socks and undergarments were in it but you had a flash of t-shirts being in the top drawer. Must have simply been mistaken. You finished up then headed into the library where you’d been scrolling through news websites to catch up.

------

You must have been invested in the article you were currently reading because when Eileen tapped on your shoulder you jumped. When you looked up she said “You’re a hunter and I scared you!” “You didn’t make any noise! Besides my guard is down in here” she shook her head but laughed “Nice to see you in a good mood” you motioned around “It’s starting to feel like a sense of being at home here” you knew you could confide in her without it reaching Dean and possibly getting his hopes up for nothing.

Her smile grew as she pulled out the chair next to you and sat down “That’s really good news” you and her sat there talking for the next while and were still talking when you heard the bunker door open so you signed “Our boys are home” she smiled and glanced over her shoulder about the time Sam and Dean walked down the stairs but both of your faces fell when you saw the cuts and scratches littering both of their faces.

She was on her feet to Sam’s side and without hesitation you were at Dean’s side before you could even think about it. “What the hell happened?” you asked gently touching the deepest cut that ran right across Dean’s left cheek “Couple witches hexed a couple vamps. Made them a little harder to kill. No big deal sweetheart” he replied flinching slightly as you turned his head to look at the different cuts and you shook your head then glanced at Eileen “You got your idiot cause I’m gonna go patch this one up and call Cas to see when he came come through the heal them” she nodded so you grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him behind you out of the library and down the hall to his bedroom.

------

Dean sat on the side of his bed while you fussed over the cuts on his face and neck. “Did you kill the witches? Because if not I’m gonna find them and shove their damn broomsticks up their asses” you finished cleaning the cuts and stopped when you realized he was staring at you

“What?” he shook his head letting just the barest hint of a smile play on his lips “I love when you’re all fiery” when you dipped your head just enough that hair fell in front of your face he knew that was one of your tells that you’d gotten embarrassed so he reached up to push the hair back gently and felt his heart flip when you actually leaned into his touch “I love everything about you Y/N. I don’t mean to embarrass you or make you feel weird about it since you can’t remember but you patching me up and fussing about me being hurt? It feels normal or normal for us anyways” you covered his hand with your own and smiled “I want us back Dean”

“We’ll get there sweetheart. Rowena said a few more days and a few more continents she should have her hands on everything she needs” you nodded then pulled away from him slowly “I need to put this first aid kit up” he watched you move around and wanted to say something that would make you feel better but really didn’t have an idea as to what to say.

You stopped at the doorway and glanced back at him “Is it weird if I ask you to take me for a ride in the impala?” he shook his head “Not at all. When do you want to go?” your smile pulled one to his own face “Let me grab my jacket” you glanced at his dresser for a second then added “Are your t-shirts in the top drawer?” he looked between you and the dresser then nodded slowly “Yeah..why?” “No reason” you replied then went in search of your jacket and to return the first aid kit to the kitchen.

------

You weren’t sure where Dean was headed but sitting next to him watching him drive felt so natural. You’d known him for years but it was like your heart was remembering even when your brain was refusing to. “Want to pull over or just keep driving? It’s a quarter moon but it’s pretty bright out if you want to park and talk?” he suggested and you nodded “Please”

You watched as he found a pull off and drove back to an open field. When he killed the engine he cut his eyes at you “You coming?” you smiled and climbed out behind him. He walked to the front of the car then sat on the hood leaned back against the windshield so you sat next to him making sure your boots were hanging off the side to not scratch the paint. Thousands of stars were dotted across the sky and although the moon was only a quarter it was bright. You could hear a few crickets far off and a slight breeze was in the air not enough to make it cold but enough to make your jacket comfortable.

You cut your eyes at him twice before he said “You can lean your head over on me Y/N. I won’t bite” “What if I asked you to?” you joked but had another sense of dejavu hit you. He pulled you over onto his chest leaning further back while you got comfortable “You know you said that to me the first night we slept together” he spoke after a moment.

It was the first time he’d actually talked about your relationship. You knew it was because he didn’t want to push your memory. You had your head laying against his chest and could hear his heart beating steadily under you. “Who kissed who first?” you asked and his answering laugh vibrated through your entire body “Believe it or not you kissed me first” you turned to look at him and he shrugged so you asked “Tell me?”

He nodded and leaned his head back to stare at the night sky “We were fresh off a possession case. Me and Sam had been working it and you rolled through nearby. Eileen was with the twins working a case so you offered to help us. After it was all said and done Sam headed back to the hotel but me and you decided to grab a beer” you hadn’t realized just how much you were hanging onto his every word until he grinned “You’re staring there Y/N” “Oh hush. You’re telling me about our first kiss I get to stare”

“Fair enough” he replied with a nod then continued “Anyways. We got to the bar, grabbed our drinks and then headed to a corner table. We were talking about the job, the life we live. You were the most beautiful woman in the place and you were sitting there in jeans and one of my flannels since your shirt had gotten torn during the fight and you had a scratch right across the top of your collarbone that flashed when you moved just the right way. I’d been trying to figure out a way to ask you if you’d ever consider being with another hunter for weeks by that point. You got up to grab us another round and I admit I watched your ass while you walked to the bar but you hadn’t even gotten the beer yet when some drunk asshole decided to grab your ass”

“How did that go over?” you asked pretty much already knowing the answer. Dean tilted his head with a hint of a smirk “I may have broken his jaw in a few different places. Luckily the bartender saw everything so she snuck us over the bar and out the back about the time the police were coming in the front. We hightailed it out of there and headed back to the hotel. I walked you to your door even though you were right next to us. You told me you could’ve handled it and at first I thought you were pissed at me for stepping in but then you added that you thought it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. You kissed me then asked if I wanted to grab coffee the next morning before we all headed our different directions”

The happiness in Dean’s eyes as he spoke about the two of you made your heart ache. You loved him, that much you were sure of even if you couldn’t remember the details as to why. “Was it just me for you from there on?” you asked and when he looked at you god your heart skipped more than a few beats at the emotion those green eyes held “No one else would’ve stood a chance” you leaned closer to him and just barely let your lips brush against his in a tentative kiss. When he didn’t push you away you deepened it moving closer to him. He groaned into the kiss when your hands slid across his chest coming up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his hands came to grip your thigh closest to him and he gave it a tug pulling you on top of him never breaking the kiss. You straddled his waist breaking from his lips to kiss down his neck. The grip on your hips tightened when you kissed on top of his pulse point “Y/N...sweetheart..baby stop” you froze the moment he said stop and looked at him in confusion “What’s wrong?” he swallowed hard before saying “Don’t get me wrong because fuck I’ve missed kissing you but we can’t do this. Not until you get more of your memory back. The moment you do I promise to keep you in bed for days but for now we can’t”

You nodded and left another quick kiss on his lips before sliding off of him and the hood of the car. He stood up after you and wrapped both arms around you “I love you Y/N” you nodded leaning back against him “I know Dean” the two of you stood there in silence for the longest just enjoying being close to each other until you shivered. “Let’s get back” he said so you nodded with a sigh “Will you watch a movie or something with me when we get back?” he nodded and kissed your cheek “Of course”

You paced across the floor glancing towards the table in the center of the room every now and then. The redhead working over the large silver bowl stopped in the middle of a movement “Y/N..dear I have grown quite fond of you actually but if you don’t stop that incessant pacing I will lock you out until I need you”

You held your hands up defensively “Sorry Rowena. I guess I’m just nervous” “Understandably but just take a breath” you nodded and sat down at the table across the room. She smiled then went back to her work. You looked up when the door opened and gave a small smile to Eileen “The boys are on their way back” “It’ll be done before they get here” Rowena said not looking up so you repeated it to Eileen who questioned why your eyes got wider.

Eileen sat down next to you and drew you into a conversation about a few hunt years back and that managed to keep your attention until Rowena cleared her throat. The both of you looked up so she waved you over “It’s time” Eileen walked next to you so you gave her hand a small squeeze before stepping over to the table “Give me your hand” Rowena spoke so you held your hand out palm up. She picked up a silver dagger and slid it across your skin. You watched as your blood dripped onto the mixture in the bowl and it glowed a deep silver.

Rowena spoke the incantation of which you only caught half the words because while some was latin the rest was a language you didn’t recognize. After a moment the silver turned to a shimmering black. Rowena dipped a red wine glass into the bowl and held it out “Drink it all” you looked at the liquid and swallowed hard. You’d drank worse before. You looked at Eileen who nodded so you toasted her and Rowena “Here’s to our health ladies” then tipped the entire glass back in one go. “How do you feel?” Eileen asked and you started to say you felt fine then the world took on a fuzzy haze and you felt yourself falling right before your vision went black.

------

“Y/N..wake up..sweetheart” you could hear Dean’s voice and forced your eyes open. “She’s awake” he breathed in relief. You were laying on a makeshift pallet in the armory. “Told you I know what I’m doing” Rowena chastised then crouched down into your view. “Y/N..how do you feel dear?” you looked at Dean before answering Rowena “I feel amazing. I remember everything” you could hear Eileen and Sam both thanking Rowena but your eyes were glued to Dean who whispered “I love you Y/N” you pulled him down into a kiss before whispering “I love you too Dean. Nothing could keep me from you either”

Tagging @girl-next-door-writes for the bingo challenge and @akshi8278 cause it's Dean

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #girl next doors make me feel bingo

206 notes · View notes

marvelship-oneshots · 3 years

Text

SNOWED IN (STONY)

HI! this is my first fill for the "Snowed in" square of the Stony Trope and AU bingo by @therollingstonys hope you like it!

Where Steve goes to Tony's place to study, but it suddenly starts snowing and and they find themselves stuck in the house for the entire weekend. [3.9k words]

Steve hated everything that had something to do with math. Or science, for that matter. He was passionate about art, literature, languages and he could work his way around sports, but math, physics or biology were subjects that he couldn’t understand, no matter how much he tried to. It was not like he would need them in his future, as he decided to go to culinary school after graduating high school. But he needed the grades, unfortunately.

Steve sat in the empty study room of his school and took out of his backpack his very big algebra book. On the cover, there were a bunch of smiling students. But Steve was not smiling. He actually wanted to scream and tear apart the book just from looking at him.

He hesitated, contemplating giving up, before actually opening the book and diving into the impossibly difficult exercises.

The door of the room opened and a breathless student came running in. He hid behind Steve, sitting on the floor. It took him two seconds and Steve barely saw his face, but he could recognize him from his messy hair and his singular perfume. Cologne and cigarettes. That student was undoubtedly Tony Stark, the richest, most popular student of the school. But if asked Steve, Tony was his first, real crush.

Tony was just a sophomore and wasn't part of any sports team, but nonetheless, he was the most envied student of the school. Those who didn’t want to be with him wanted to be him. Steve was part of the first category but gave up hope a long time ago.

“Please, please, I beg of you, act like I’m not here”

Yeah, easy to say when Tony couldn’t feel Steve’s heart beating a hundred miles per hour. Or see his pale cheeks now turned red. Or the knot in his throat because that was the first time ever they were even in the same room, that they both know of.

If asked, Steve would deny that he knew exactly which was Tony’s favourite restroom, which were Tony’s least favourite classes, that he would ditch for the better part of the lesson to wander in the corridors, or which was the best table at lunch to see Tony best. Bucky, Sam and Wanda wouldn’t be of the same opinion, though.

The door opened again and Steve looked up from his textbook, watching as Clint stepped in and looked around.

“He’s not here, is he?”

Steve frowned.

“Who’s not here?”

He would have known who Clint was talking about even if Tony wasn’t hiding behind his chair.

Clint huffed and closed the door shut.

“Are they gone?” Tony asked in a whisper.

“Yes”

“Thank you for creating a safe place for me, man. Knowing that dum dum, they won’t be back for a while” Tony said sitting on the chair next to Steve.

Steve tried to ignore his presence and definitely not to look at him, but it became more difficult when Tony moved his chair closer to Steve’s to take a look at the book.

“Uh but that’s easy” Tony mumbled before starting to explain how to do the exercises.

Soon enough, maths started making sense for Steve.

“How do you even know this? This is senior years stuff and you’re like”

“A sophomore, yeah I know” Tony cut Steve short “I guess the genius runs in the family”

Steve scoffed, shaking his head, moving on to the next exercise.

“Can I ask you something?”

Tony nodded, without looking up.

“What was that all about?”

Tony looked up.

“Oh I asked Natasha on a date on Friday and Clint didn’t take it well”

Steve didn’t take it well either. He felt a pinch of jealousy eating his guts, but he just smiled and nodded, going back to the exercise Tony working on.

“Listen, man, if you want I can help you with all of these shit subjects” Tony said, standing up, before walking out of the study room.

“Yeah no, it’s really not necessary”

“Oh, I insist. I’ll bring my notes on Monday”

Steve rolled his eyes. That day he understood that Tony didn’t like taking a no for an answer.

“‘Right. See you on Monday then,...” Tony hesitated, completely forgetting to ask for his name.

“Oh, it’s Steve”

“Right Steve” Steve could feel the engines in Tony’s head working.

“I’m Tony, by the way”

Steve smiled. “I know”

Tony looked at Steve as if he was crazy and walked out.

“Are you for real? He introduced himself and you replied ‘I know’?” Bucky asked, a little too louder for Steve’s taste and slapping him on the back of his head.

Steve had his head buried in his arms on the table of the canteen and growled. He had slapped himself several times since that day, but he didn’t have the chance to tell his friends.

“What the hell is wrong with you man?” Sam rolled his eyes “You were supposed to say, I don’t know, nice to meet you or something, definitely not I know”

“He’s going to think I’m a weirdo. Or a stalker”

“Yes, he will dude” Wanda replied, patting on his shoulder.

“Stevie, incoming, get up” Bucky warned, seeing Tony walking towards them.

“Tell Sharon I don’t want to talk to her”

“Well, I hope you’ll want to talk to me”

Steve’s head tilted up, recognising Tony’s voice, and kicked Bucky under the table for not being too specific.

“Yeah, uhm. Sorry, hi”

Tony took something from his backpack and laid on the table an enormous folder, separated into four big sections by coloured sticky notes.

“Here, the notes I talked to you about the other day”

“You just had all of these notes laying around?”

Tony shook his head, proudly.

“Nope made them all just for you”

Steve looked at Tony and then at Bucky, hoping he could read the brunet better than he could.

“I didn’t want to bother you with notes you already had, let alone making them just for me”

“You didn’t and will never bother me, Steve-o”

Steve blushed, looking away as fast as he could”

“I’m Tony by the way. Or did you already know that too?”

Tony held out his hand to Sam, who shook it forcefully. Wanda and Bucky loudly chuckled. Steve sent a deadly stare on Wanda’s way and kicked Bucky on his ankle.

Steve took the hint when Tony sat more comfortably on the bench next to him, stealing some fries from his lunch trail, and Bucky elbowed him in the ribs, in a clear final to start a conversation.

“So… how was your date?”

“Excuse me?” Tony stopped to look at Steve with a fry still mid-air “What date?”

Steve looked at Bucky and Sam, begging to help him out, but they were both too busy staring into each other’s eyes to notice.

“Your date with Natasha”

Wanda crossed her arms in front of her, eager to see where this was going and Tony looked perplexed.

“Yeah, you know, you told me that you asked her out and your friend was mad about it”

And I was mad about it, Steve thought but didn’t add anything.

“Oh that. Ok, no, you got it all wrong”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I did ask her out just because Barton had been talking about her forever and didn’t have the balls to do it themselves”

Steve blushed and Wanda had to turn away. If Tony hadn’t been there, she would have burst out laughing in Steve’s face, but she was a good enough friend not to embarrass him in front of his crush anymore than he already was.

“Glad we cleared that out but now I have to go. I will pick you up on Friday after school. Pack an overnight bag and your books, you're in for an intensive Stark study session” Tony declared, getting up, shoving the rest of Steve’s fries in his mouth.

“And just so you know- Tony stood beside Steve, with his hands on Steve’s broad shoulder, and whispered in his ear- I like ‘em blond, tall and oblivious”

Tony winked at Steve’s friends, who were staring at him with their mouths open, and walked away.

Steve suddenly turned red and buried his head back into his arms crossed on the table.

“What did just happened”

“Dude, I think he just asked you out AND called you oblivious” Sam replied, before the three of them burst out laughing.

Only four days passed for Friday to come, but to Steve, it felt like four years.

Steve walked out of the school, waiting for Tony in the parking lot. He leaned against a metal fence, talking to his friends.

“Oh c’mon Wanda, you’re ditching us too?” Sam whined after Wands told them she couldn't make it to their usual videogame afternoon. Steve knew why, no one in the right state of mind would want to third wheel for Sam and Bucky.

Bucky put an arm behind Sam’s back, pulling him closer to his chest.

“This means that we have the house to ourselves” he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, before shoving his tongue into his boyfriend's mouth.

“Disgusting” Steve growled, looking away.

“Alright, I’m out of here” Wanda said, smacking a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss and lightly hugged Wanda, before turning to Steve.

“Pot, kettle. You’re the one here with a three-days-date with mr playboy”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“He’s two years younger, Bucky. Two years”

Tony pulled up in front of the three in a bright orange AUDI and honked twice to get Steve’s attention. Steve opened the door and sat in the seat next to Tony. Before he managed to close the door, Sam and Bucky started making obscene gestures and sounds.

“Drive away, Tony, for the love of God” Steve mumbled, turning to secure the seat belt and flipping off his friends from the car window.

The car ride was silent, not out of embarrassment, but because they didn’t have anything to talk about. Maybe they would have found something of common interest if either one of them had the balls to start a conversation. Which was weird because usually, Tony couldn’t shut up to save his life.

They were going in the opposite direction from Tony’s house and Steve wanted to ask why, but he wasn’t supposed to know where Tony lived and didn’t want to look like a stalker.

Eventually, they arrived in a large private parking lot. They both jumped out of the car and took all of the bags from the car. Tony had an incredible amount of things for a two-days-steak out, and Steve offered to carry some of the bags.

“You’re my knight in shining armour” Tony said with a smile that went from ear to ear and Steve’s heart almost skipped a beat.

Then, they both walked for 15 minutes until they arrived at a luxurious cabin. Tony kicked the mat, revealing the key and opened the door, letting all of the bags fall in the middle of the big corridor.

Steve helped Tony put away the groceries after dinner and then brought out his books. Tony returned from the toilet with a box of Monopoly.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tony asked, looking at Steve and the mountain of books on the kitchen table.

“I thought we came here to stu- Steve cut himself short after seeing Tony’s expression- never mind” he finished, putting the books back in the backpack.

“Dude- Tony slammed a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses on the table- it’s Friday night. We’ll think of the shitty stuff tomorrow”

Tony laid on the table the cardboard and divided the money between the two of them.

“So. You’ve heard of Monopoly, but have you ever played drunk Monopoly?”

Steve shook his head.

“Every time you land on someone else property, you chug one shot, if you go to prison, it’s three for every turn you spend in it”

Steve’s eyes widened. That was going to be a lot of alcohol, especially for someone who hadn’t even tried beer yet. But he nodded anyway because, well, Tony.

After they finished the first round around the board, Steve threw the dice and landed on Tony’s property. Tony smirked and poured vodka in one glass and slid it to Steve. Steve looked at the glass and then at Tony, with a disgusted expression.

“Down in one sip, it’s not as bad as it seems”

Steve brought the glass closer to his nose, smelling the piercing smell of alcohol, he closed his eyes and drank in one chug. He felt like his throat was on fire, but after a couple of rounds, it was like chugging water.

They were both lightheaded and had ditched Monopoly to move to the couch. Tony was lying with his head on a cushion, with his legs on Steve’s lap. He poured some more vodka into the glasses and handed it to Steve. He held out his glass, letting them cling together.

“За здоровье” Tony said with a smile.

“What was that?” Steve asked, laughing.

“It’s Russian, it means ‘drink to health’”

Steve laughed, throwing his head back.

“I didn’t know you knew Russian”

“I don’t, this is the only thing I know. The only important thing to know actually”

They both laughed as Steve caressed Tony’s ankles.

“Tony, can I ask you something?”

Tony looked up.

“Where are your parents? I mean, aren’t they mad you’re here without them?”

Tony rolled his eyes and sat up. He took the bottle of vodka and drank directly from it.

“My parents don’t even know what grade I’m in. I’m going to bed now” he replied with harshness in his voice as he got up and walked to the bedroom, stumbling.

Way to go Steve.

The morning after Tony woke up to the smell of freshly made pancakes. He walked into the kitchen with a huge smile, inhaling the perfume. He gulped when he realised that Steve was the one flipping pancake, topless. He stopped by the door, admiring Steve’s perfect back muscles.

“I could kidnap you if it means I get to wake up like this every morning” Tony mumbled, sitting on the stool. Steve smiled, flipping the last pancake and sliding it on the plate. He put two blueberries and a slice of fried bacon to make a smiley face.

He slid the plate in front of Tony, who looked at Steve with a little smirk. Steve observed Tony’s face while he ate his pancake. It was like the tension of the night before had been drowned in their sleep.

Tony let out a loud moan and Steve almost spat his coffee. Tony noticed and chuckled.

“This is the shit, Steve-o” Tony screamed, sliding another stack of pancakes on his plate and drowning them in maple syrup.

They worked the whole day, without even feeling like time was passing. Steve was actually feeling like he was understanding something, which was really good.

After dinner, Tony brought out a poker set.

“Strip poker, you up for it?”

Steve tensed in the chair. Tony noticed and started to look for something in his pocket.

“I have something to ease the tension if you want to” he said, sliding a packet of weed through the table.

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I don’t- I don’t really feel comfortable, y’know, smoking it”

Tony put on a disappointed expression, putting it back in his pocket.

“I can bake it though” Steve winked at Tony, letting him put the bag in his hand.

Tony sat on the counter, swinging his legs as he licked every spoon Steve put down. He ground the weed and it to Steve, who mixed it with the batter before putting the brownies in the oven.

Tony sat on the counter, waiting for the brownies to be ready, swinging his legs in a very childish way, while Steve drew a little sketch of him on his notepad.

When the timer rang, Steve made sure to close his sketchbook before taking them out of the oven and cutting them into even squares. He put them on a plate before sitting at the kitchen table and starting mixing the deck.

Tony took a brownie and bit it, letting out a loud moan.

“Seriously, how do you do it?”

They were already high when they got into the real game. The first items to fall on the floor were the socks, then their sweatshirts and t-shirts, leaving Tony only with his boxers on. Steve still had his t-shirt.

Steve laid his card on the table, smirking at Tony.

“Those- he pointed at Tony’s briefs- have to go” he said smiling as he took the deck, mixing and handing out the cards, without taking his eyes off Tony. Tony took his sweet time getting up and started playing around with the elastic, getting it lower on his hips as he got in front of Steve, who tried to look at his cards, avoiding looking at Tony, sliding his underwear to his ankle, kicking them as far as possible.

Tony walked closer to Steve, tilting his head up with a finger from under his chin.

“Look at me, Steve-o”

Steve started with his mouth slightly open. Tony moved his chair, sitting on Steve’s lap, moving his hips on Steve’s. He took the cards from Steve’s hand, putting them down on the table.

“Let’s pretend- Tony slid his hands under Steve’s t-shirt- just for a second-he pulled the limbs of the white cotton up, moving his hips on Steve’s a bit more- that you lost this round, huh?”

Steve moaned and Tony managed to take the t-shirt away. He scooted back a little to admire Steve’s toned body until he fell ass fist on the floor. They both laughed and then Steve took a piece of brownie and kneeled over Tony. He spread the chocolate crumbles all over Tony’s chest. Smirking, he started hovering over Tony, before lowering his face and licking every last piece of cake from his skin. Tony gulped as he fell the little wet kisses on his stomach.

Once Steve stopped, Tony took the chance to turn the tables, pushing Steve on the floor. As he sat on his hips, Tony felt Steve growing harder under him. He started moving in circles, smirking as Steve started squirming under him.

“If-if you’re going to make me...cum- Steve panted- you can at least k-kiss me”

Tony chuckled, lowering himself over Steve’s face. He caressed his cheek with his thumb and then moved to his lips, brushing them, without asking his eyes away from Steve’s. Their lips barely touched before Tony stood up and went back to moving his hips on Steve's and chuckled when Steve tried to protest.

Tony’s movement became slower and slower until he felt Steve's underwear getting wet under him. He sped his movements until he released all over Steve’s chest.

Sunday was a normal, lazy Sunday. They cuddled on the sofa under a cosy blanket. To be honest, they didn’t even bother putting any clothes back on. They just kept doing their exercises in their birthday suits, teasing each other, but never going over small, wet kisses on their chests. At some point, Tony fell asleep on Steve’s chest and Steve did shortly after while stroking Tony’s hair.

When they woke up, it was already dark outside. During the afternoon it started snowing. They hoped it would stop by the time they had to leave. However, during their nap, it snowed even more violently and it didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. The road conditions were not ideal to drive back. The only thing they could do was stay right where they were.

“You don’t mind staying here until tomorrow morning, do you?” Tony asked, playing with Steve’s hand as they were watching a movie on the sofa.

“Nope, not even a little bit” Steve mumbled, smelling Tony’s hair.

The plan was fine, if only they hadn't slept through every single one of their alarms.

Tony hit Steve with a pillow, waking him up, while he jumped around trying to slide on his jeans.

“We’re fucking stupid. So fucking stupid”

Steve yawned, stretching his arms when Tony threw a shirt on his face.

“Take only the things you need and leave everything else here, we’ll take care of that later” Tony yelled, pouring coffee in a thermos and packing in a box some cookies Steve baked in the evening.

“Go, go, go, c’mon” Tony pushed Steve out of the door and down the track.

They jumped in the car and Tony started driving it out of the parking lot, humming a rock song Steve didn’t know. Steve held the thermos close to Tony, as he sipped the hot beverage with a straw.

“Cookie” he asked right before Steve handed him one.

They pulled up by the school just in time not to be late for the first lesson. Steve kissed Tony’s cheek before turning towards his classroom.

“See ya later” Tony screamed.

“Dude, what’s that?” Bucky asked, pointing at the t-shirt Steve was wearing, once they were in the corridor, after the lesson.

“What?” He asked before looking down at it. “Oh, shit. Uhm…”

Steve scratched the back of his head, realising that the shirt was a little tight and was constricting every movement.

“It’s Tony’s. We had a uhm...a nice weekend”

Tony came up from behind him, sparking him on the butt.

“I can see that” Sam chuckled on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Is that your shirt, Steve?”

Steve blushed in response.

As the group started walking away, Steve pulled Tony into a toilet, pushing him into a stall as soon as they checked that no one was in there.

Tony locked the door.

“Uhm, I like where this is going” he said with a smirk.

“Not what you’re thinking, Tony. I just need my shirt back, I’m having almost no movement here”

Tony chuckled.

“But I like yours. It’s big and cosy and it smells like you”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ok, let’s make a deal. You give me my shirt back and I’ll lend you my sweatshirt”

Tony seemed to think about that for a few seconds.

“Only if I get to hold on to it as long as I want to”

“Deal”

Eventually, Steve, with a lot of difficulties, managed to take off Tony's shirt, handing it back to its legitimate owner. Tony was starstruck by Steve’s perfect chest, although he had been seeing a hell of a lot of it in the past couple of days. Steve pulled off his shirt from Tony and wore his.

Once Tony was dressed, Steve went to open the door of the stall but Tony's hand grabbed his wrist, pulling Steve closer to him. He stood on his tiptoes, bringing their lips together.

Steve took Tony by his hips and let Tony cup his face, going deeper into the kiss.

“We’re ok, aren’t we” Steve asked, opening the little door and walking out.

“More than ok” Tony replied, taking Steve’s hand and making their way down the corridor.

#stony #stevetony #tonysteve #stevextony #tonyxsteve #steve x tony #tony x steve #no superpowers au #high school au #stony fic #stony fanfiction #snowed in #stony-trope-au-bingo

130 notes · View notes

writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Good Influence - Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Claire Tags: Dean, teenage angst, dirty talk, Daddy kink, female masturbation, pussy spanking WC: 2153 Bingo Squares:@spnkinkbingo - Pussy Spanking |@spnrareshipbingo - Dean |@spndeanbingo - Dirty Talk |@j3bingo - Dean Winchester

“Thanks so much for agreeing to stay, boys,” Jody shouts from behind her car as she slings her duffle into the trunk, shotguns and salt rattling against each other.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean waves off her gratitude, rounding the car and loading a gallon jug of holy water in behind her bags. “You sure you don’t want one of us to tag along?” he checks again, he’d already asked her twice.

“I’ll be fine Dean, me and Donna are big girls,” Jody laughs. “Plus, the girls might not act like it but I think they really enjoy having you two around more often. Things have smoothed out a little more since the last time you came to stay with them.”

“Uh, smoothed out?” Sam scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly, his other hand shoved deep in his jeans pocket.

“Oh, you know,” Jody rolls her eyes, “Claire isn’t as angry these days, she and Alex seem to hate each other a little less than usual. And Alex even brought home a friend from school the other week! I didn’t know she had friends.”

“That’s nice,” Sam agrees, nodding.

“I don’t know what you two did to them the last time you stayed but whatever it was, keep it up. I think you’re a good influence on them,” Jody smiles kindly, giving Dean a quick hug goodbye, and then Sam.

The Winchesters stand in the driveway, waving goodbye to Jody with forcefully cheerful smiles plastered on their faces. As soon as she’s out of sight their hands drop in unison and their smiles vanish. Dean’s is replaced with a look of abject horror, Sam’s with poorly disguised guilt.

“Dude, she’s gonna castrate us if she ever finds out,” Sam grits his teeth, looking to his brother nervously.

“Hey, she’ll go for you first. You’re the one who deflowered her precious first daughter,” Dean grins ruefully.

“Well, if Jody doesn’t manage to kill you, Cas still might,” Sam reminds him and Dean’s expression grows shadowy for a fraction of a moment before he shakes it off.

“If Cas pulls out the father act Claire’ll have his balls before he gets to mine.” Sam pulls a face that Dean understands to mean ‘good point’, and Dean slaps his little brother on the back supportively. “C’mon, Claire sure as hell ain’t gonna tell her, and I severely doubt Alex will,” Sam nods in agreement. “So, she’s not gonna find out. Now, why don’t we go back inside and show those girls just how good an influence we can be for them, huh?”

Several Weeks Earlier

Claire stomped into the living room, yanking her headphones out of her phone as she flopped back onto the couch with a grunt.

“I’m bored,” she complained to Dean, who was on the couch already watching a rerun of some shitty medical drama.

“Tough luck kiddo,” Dean’s reply was wholeheartedly unsympathetic.

“Why can’t we go hunt something?” Claire whined petulantly, her head lolling to the side and rolling towards Dean, attempting to copy that look Sam can give Dean that gets him anything he wants.

“Because I’ve already saved your ass once this week, and I’m not jumping to do it again anytime soon.”

Claire pouted but she didn’t protest, she knew Dean was right.

“Why are you watching this crap?” Claire gestured to the TV where some surgeon with hair that reminded her of Sam was giving someone mouth-to-mouth on an operating table.

“Don’t knock Dr. Sexy.” Dean didn’t look at Claire as he spoke, just took a swig of beer, eyes focused intently on the screen where Dr. Sexy was now making out with a nurse in the scrub room. Claire eyed Dean disdainfully, eyes dragging across his flannel covered shoulders, down his arm to his mostly empty beer, resting carelessly in his lap.

“Can I have some?” Claire pointed to the bottle and Dean scoffed.

“You’re only nineteen, sweetheart.”

“So you think I’ve never had a drink before?” Claire laughed brightly. “I’ve done a lot more than that.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re a real deviant,” Dean rolled his eyes humourlessly.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not really,” Dean shrugged. “I know your type.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Claire cracked her knuckles in her fists, trying to reign in her irritation, but she can’t help glaring at Dean.

“Means I know you think being nineteen means you’re grown up now. And I know you think bummin’ smokes off some random guy in an alley behind a bar makes you tough, but none of it really means shit. End of the day you still come home to your bed with the homemade quilt and dinner on the kitchen table. You’re not the ‘bad girl’ you think you are.” Dean smirked at Claire ruthlessly, eyes hard and challenging.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Claire bit back.

“So what about what I just said isn’t true then? Huh?” Dean challenged, but Claire stayed stonily quiet. “Thought so,” he smirked again and downed the rest of his beer.

Claire’s eyes followed his hands, focused on his lips as they wrapped around the mouth of his bottle, caught a glimpse of pink wet tongue through the tip of the amber glass, lapping up the stray drops still trickling out. Her own tongue darted out to wet her lips reflexively, pink, soft and sweet. She saw Dean notice. Then she had an idea.

Dean wanted to call her a ‘good girl’? She knew exactly how to prove him wrong.

“If I wasn’t a bad girl, why would Jody ask you to stay and keep an eye on me?” Claire quirked a blonde brow and arched her back, sinking further into the couch cushions, jutting out her breasts and hips. Dean didn’t answer, but she saw his knuckles whiten against his empty beer bottle, his eyes fixed resolutely on her face. Claire smirked and dropped a hand to the button of her jeans, fiddling with the top of her zip. “Last time I was in an alley behind a bar with a strange guy, Alex didn’t find me sucking on a cigarette."

Her button was flicked through the hole in the denim that was wrapped around its base. Dean sucked in a breath, audible even over the nonsense drone of the soap opera still on in the background.

“What are you doing, Claire?” Dean grit his teeth, beer bottle dangling between his legs suggestively, and Claire couldn’t help looking, wondering if he would be as big as that glass.

“Showing you what a bad girl I am.” It was hard to restrain her grin from breaking through the sexy pout she was aiming at the older man.

“Stop it.”

“Why?” Claire blinked innocently up at Dean, sliding her zip down slowly, tooth by tooth, like she was practicing to be a stripper. Dean didn’t answer her question, so she didn’t stop.

Right there in Jody’s living room, with Dean Winchester sat stoically on the knobbly couch beside her, with Alex and Sam who knows where in the house, Claire pushed her fingers beneath her jeans and into her panties. They weren't anything fancy. Multi-pack grey cotton boy-shorts from Walmart, with a narrow border of white elastic that was stretched thin across her wrist now.

Her eyes fluttered closed briefly when the tip of her finger brushed over her clit on the way to the small opening between her legs, guarded by folds of soft, pink skin and a sprinkling of dark blonde hair. She tugged on the strands a little, moaning under her breath. Her eyes opened lazily and rolled to the side to find Dean’s. The green she was so used to seeing there had been nearly eclipsed by the dark of his pupils, wide and hungry.

“Claire,” Dean’s voice was a growl, so low in his throat it was almost his chest. There was warning behind it, danger, and her eyes flicked to the shiny brand on his forearm, the dull red skin twitching over the pump of Dean’s blood so close to the surface of his skin.

“Dean,” Claire answered in a sigh, the fingertip circling her entrance catching on the first trace of slick as her arousal coursed through her blood vessels towards the space between her legs. “You know,” Claire kept talking but slid her eyes shut, remembering, “if I met you in a bar, and you bought me a drink, I’d definitely go there.”

“Doesn’t even look like it takes a drink to get you to open your legs,” Dean grunted, his voice suddenly against Claire’s ear, and she shivered deliciously, tilting her head to display the smooth creamy stretch of her neck, where she knew an almost faded hickey would flash into Dean’s view. She moaned when Dean’s tongue darted over the bruise, and let a triumphant smile float across her lips, eyes fluttering open to look up at the older man’s face.

“Can’t help it, I’m a slut,” Claire shrugged, fingers circling faster over her entrance as she locked her gaze with Dean’s.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are, aren’t you sweetheart.” Dean’s grin wasn’t warm, Claire would go so far to say it was almost cruel. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you’re a very bad girl.” Dean’s teeth scraped over the shell of her ear.

“Told you I was,” Claire made a high strangled noise when she pushed a finger inside herself, her wrist flexing uncomfortably against the restriction of her underwear and her jeans.

“Get your fingers out of there,” Dean snarled against her neck. Claire ignored him. “Fucking slut.” Dean’s hand plunged into her panties and pulled her hand out of her pussy, a thread of slick trailing off the finger that had just been inside her.

“Thought you liked your girls easy, Dean?”

“You’re not my girl though, are you sweetheart? You’re Cas’ baby girl. What do you think he’d say if he saw you spreading your legs for his best friend?”

“Castiel is not my dad,” Claire halfheartedly struggled against Dean’s grip on her wrist.

“Too bad,” Dean tutted. “Because you need a man’s guidance, don’t you? Need a firm hand and a watchful eye?” Claire shuddered beneath Dean’s body, which was pinning her side to the couch now.

“And you think that should be you?” Claire glared up at him challengingly. “You want to be my Daddy?”

“I’d sure as hell be a better Daddy than Randy.” Dean sneered. Claire flinched when Dean mentioned Randy’s name. The man he’d murdered to protect her. “Did you try to touch yourself in front of that jag off too? That why he let you stay? You whore yourself out to him and all his friends?”

“So what if I did?” Claire arched under Dean, trying to get his hand between her legs where she was wetter than she’d ever been before.

“Well, I think any good Daddy would have to punish his baby girl for slutting around town like that, wouldn’t he?”

Claire surprised herself by nodding, a small whimper clawing its way out of her throat. “Are you a good Daddy?” she panted, bucking her hips off the couch towards his hands again. Without preamble Dean released her wrists and shoved her knees wider, the denim stretching away from her skin with the tension.

A hollow slap echoed around the wood panelled room, not much sound behind it because Dean’s hand hadn’t actually collided with any skin, just denim stretched over air. Dean clearly wasn’t happy with the result because he roughly dug his fingers beneath the waist of Claire’s panties and jeans, tearing them down her legs and leaving her glistening and bare, spread across Jody’s ugly plaid couch.

The next strike landed on Claire’s skin, slapping wetly over her pussy and sending a sting through her already sensitive nerve endings. She moaned wantonly, rubbing herself against Dean’s fingers, heavy and warm against her pussy.

“That feel good, baby girl?” Dean asked menacingly, tracing one thick finger around her entrance. Claire nodded mutely, eyes pressed tight against the pleasure. “Well, then it’s not much of a punishment yet, is it?” Dean smacked her even harder, and Claire flinched but still arched into the touch.

“Fuck, Daddy,” she whimpered, sounding much smaller than she had moments earlier. Dean delivered three more smacks in quick succession, each one more painful than the last, until Claire’s skin was burning beneath Dean’s touch, and positively sopping wet.

“Look at you, you little slut. Dripping all over the couch. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you baby?” Dean spun a hand through her curls and tugged them back, forcing Claire to look him in the eyes. “You my bad little girl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Claire licked her lips, breath coming in aborted little huffs that made her breasts shake, she hoped appealingly.

“Too bad,” Dean sneered. “Only girls who are good for Daddy get his cock.” Dean got up off the couch with a huff of effort and left Claire half naked behind him without a backward glance.

Enjoy my work? Consider supporting me by subscribing to my website!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva @katbratsupernaturalwhore

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eddiesgirl @raidens-realm @tatted-trina6 @defenderrosetyler

#dean x claire #spnkinkbingo #spnrareshipbingo #spndeanbingo #j3bingo #good influence #mini series #smut #writethelifeyouwant

96 notes · View notes

adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

My work for @transnaturalweek day one: TFW!

TFW have a bad dysphoria day, and they do some self-care.

Sam throws down a paper bag in front of Dean. “What’s this?”

Cas sniffs and looks at him. “It smells like hamburgers.”

Sam rolls her eyes and taps her nose. “Bingo.”

“I’m good.” Dean shifts his jaw around and pulls the blanket up higher over his chest. Sam sighs at him.

“When was the last time you ate?” He looks at her bitchily. “No, don’t answer that. It was lunch yesterday, and it was a lunchable. Like you’re seven years old.”

“Fuck you, lunchables are good.”

“Lunchables are mediocre and disappointing.”

“Fuck you! Dessert pizza lunchables have never let me down!” Dean turns the volume up pointedly. Sam stays standing for another long moment. All of them are silent, Dean still trying to watch the TV but only out of spite and Cas paying closer attention to the sibling drama.

“Look, I get it. We all feel like shit, alright? But laying here feeling like shit isn’t gonna make us feel better, so we can eat bad food and paint our nails and feel like shit.”

“Can we get drunk?”

Cas furrows his brows. “Drinking is not a productive way to deal with emotional pain.”

“Disagree.” Dean sits up and reaches for the burgers, and Sam figures that’s a good sign. She goes for the Walmart bag next and pulls out the fancy little self-manicure kits she got them. She would’ve gone for the frilly little robes too, because she knows they all love them, but on a bad dysphoria day, Dean won’t even look at the color pink, let alone wear a robe. “If you can’t think about your body long enough to feel bad about it, you don’t feel so bad.”

Cas unwraps his own burger and takes off the top bun, still perched on the edge of the couch cushion. He peels the pickles off and hands them to Dean, who piles them on his own burger without even asking. They’re a well oiled machine at this point. “Touché.”

Sam sighs. Now things are going back downhill. She kicks at Dean until he makes room for her on the couch and plops down. “Not you too, Cas. I thought we were on the same side here?”

Cas shrugs and pulls off his shirt before he keeps eating his food. That’s one of the differences between Cas and Sam and Dean; when Cas is dysphoric, he takes clothes off, versus the oversized three layers of clothing and blankets Dean and Sam have covered themselves in. “I like margaritas.”

Sam rolls their eyes. “How about milkshakes and Queer Eye?”

Cas snatches a milkshake from Sam, eying the color before looking back at them. “Strawberry? I like strawberry.”

“I know you do.”

Dean looks between them grumpily. “Do I get one too?”

Sam lets a small smile cross their face. “Chocolate for you. Butterscotch for me.” She sips hers smugly.

“Can we watch something other than Queer Eye?” Dean asks, dipping a fry into his.

“Are you sure? There’s that one with a trans guy, we could-”

“Sam.” Dean balls in on himself and sniffs. “I don’t wanna think about how we’re different right now okay? Even if it’s about how our differences are kumbaya or some shit, I just don’t wanna-”

“Ok, yeah, I get it.” She leans against her brother. “That’s not how kumbaya works though-”

“Shut up, bitch,”

“Jerk,”

“Cas, what do you wanna watch?”

Cas shrugs. “Madagascar.”

“Madagascar? Like, the animated movie about zoo animals?” Cas nods. Dean looks at Sam. They shrug back. “Okay, let’s move it movie it,” he laughs at the others’ groans and steals the remote from Sam so he can pull up Netflix.

Sam passes out the nail polish while they start the movie. Cas gets a dark blue and pink (He likes to alternate colors on every finger), Dean gets a classic black, and Sam goes with purple. Yes, they’re classic colors for each of them. And sometimes you need the classic comforts.

“Cas, baby, isn’t that really fucking uncomfortable sitting like that?” Dean asks, his worry sneaking towards grumpiness. Cas looks back from his perch unhappily. He shrugs rather than answers, and Dean sighs. Cas doesn’t just get human dysphoria from him being trans or Jimmy being trans. He also gets Angel-brand dysphoria; he hates sitting against a couch because it reminds him of the state of his wings. “C’mere.”

Cas only hesitates for a moment before he climbs on Dean’s lap. It’s something they do sometimes, being up on Dean gives Cas beside and below him, like a buffer so he can think about it less. Dean hugs him from behind and puts his head on his shoulder so he can still watch the movie, and Cas holds his milkshake so he can still drink it. Sam scoffs at them. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Sh, don’t get bitter just because your girlfriend is off being a big badass during pride.” Dean grabs Sam’s hand and her nail polish and starts in on it. He is the best nail polisher of them, considering he’s had the most practice. That, and the fact that he’s obsessively neat and has surprisingly steady hands.

Sam glares but lets him do it. “Yeah, well, I still think it’s pretty homophobic of her. Transphobic, too, if you think about it.”

“And your other girlfriend?”

She rolls her eyes. “She’s a busy fucking woman, thank you very much.”

“Right, right, dating a girl boss.”

“Technically, a queen.” Cas corrects.

“Mhm,” Sam allows herself to get a little smug.

“Look at us, just a bunch of queens watching an animated zoo movie and not getting drunk in our rapidly approaching middle age.”

“Hear hear!” Sam bumps the styrofoam of her cup against the two cups Cas is holding. And they watch their movie. “Happy pride, assholes,”

#tfw #transnatural #transnatural week #transnautral week day one #trans dean #trans sam #trans castiel #transnaturalweek

102 notes · View notes

supernaturallyobsessedchic · 4 years

Text

Our Girl

J2 x Reader

Word Count: 1,419

Summary: Jensen and Jared treat the reader to an exciting birthday.

Warnings: Smut (P in V, Anal sex, protected sex and unprotected sex, Oral Fem Receiving, fingering, double penetration, overstimulation, threesome.)

Masterlist

a/n: Could be a teaser for a possible J2 Series, still in the brainstorming works.

a/n#2: Originally a Birthday Girl rewrite, but just so there’s no doubles on here, and not an attempt at a Re-entry on Jen’s SPN Tell me a Story Bingo.

She laid between Jared and Jensen as they slept through the night. She had snuggled against Jensen, laying her head on his chest while Jared snuggled in behind her.

As the sun began to rise over the horizon, and the world slowly waking up, she tossed onto her back, Jared being long awake.

Jensen woke up, admiring the beauty he woke up to. Brushing her hair from her face. She looked so peaceful as she slept.

He realized the day as he laid there. It was her birthday. She has turned 30 today. Originally, they didn’t plan on doing anything for her birthday, she didn’t ask for anything. But Jared and Jensen wanted to treat her to a day she won’t soon forget.

He laid a gentle kiss just below her jaw, traveling down her neck. Sucking at her pulse point. Drawing out a moan from her sleepy lips.

His hand hiked up her shirt, palming her breast, pinching the hardening bud between his fingers. He was slowly pulling her out of a deep slumber, feeling her squirm under his touch in her sleepy state.

His kisses traveled down her torso, up her thigh as he worked her panties off of her. Seeing a wet streak from her heat. Making him smirk.

His kisses got higher up her thighs to her soaking mound. And he placed a kiss on her sensitive clit. Her hips jerked up at the warmth his lips offered.

The covers were pulled off over his head, seeing her darkened eyes looking back at him.

He worked her legs over his shoulders as he made himself at home and went to work. Lapping his tongue over the sensitive bud.

She threw her head back with desire as a moan escaped her throat.

He pinned her hips when they jerked again wanting more friction. His lips locked on as his tongue worked around and around her clit, building her up.

“Fuck Jay,” she moans. Her hands running through his hair, holding him in place.

She felt his thick fingers enter her aching heat; her breath hitched in the back of her throat.

His finger rubbing against her g-spot ever so gingerly, driving her nuts.

“Oh lookie here.” Jared says entering their room.

Making a B line for their bed, his lips latching on to her neck, kissing and sucking her sensitive spots. Driving her ever crazier.

She felt the heat in her belly grow, and grow with each lap of Jensen’s tongue, every thrust of his fingers, every suck of Jared’s kisses. Until it, snapped in a nuclear explosion of pleasure.

Her back arched off of the bed as she came on Jensen’s mouth. His fingers thrust slowly to a stop, and eventually once she calmed down, he pulled his mouth off of her mound, his beard soaked in her arousal.

“Happy Birthday Y/N.” He says with a dark smirk.

“I’m loving what you got planned so far.” She pants.

“I can think of something, because seeing you two like that, I gotten so hard, I want some of this.”

“Sam here.” Jensen says.

“Then why not come get it,” she says wiggling her hips.

They discard their clothes like they were on fire. And they weren’t joking at how hard they’ve gotten.

“Fuck me.” She groans at the sight of them.

“We plan on it baby.” Jared says.

She was sandwiched between the two giant Texans, Jared delivered a passionate, hungry kiss to her lips. Jensen behind her kissing the nap of her neck.

“How do you want us baby?” Jensen asked.

“I want Jared behind me, and you on top of me.”

“And do you want me in your ass, of do you think you can handle both of us in that tight little pussy of yours?” Jared asked.

“Oh god, so tempting. Let’s try both.” She smirks.

“One at a time baby.” Jensen says.

Jared hopped up to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube, Jensen taking his place on top of her, kissing her ever so passionately. Their tongues dancing across each other’s mouths. Sucking his lip, driving him crazy.

Jared settled behind her, his hands traveling down her shoulders to her back, then sliding between her cheeks. Her hips bucked into his hand; Jared smirked.

“Very impatient little birthday girl you are.” Jared says in her ear. Before kissing behind her ear, bringing her ear lobe between his teeth gently.

Pulling away slightly, he lubed up his fingers, prepping her tight hole.

The distraction was enough for Jensen to drive his cock balls deep into her core. Her jaw drops, letting a wanton moan escape from her throat.

And that distraction was enough for Jared to scissor his fingers in her hold, prepping her for him.

Pulling his fingers free, Jared slides on a condom before lubing up one more time and inches his way into her.

A low, pleasured moan escapes her lips into Jensen’s shoulder. Feeling her holes fill up with her two favorite men in her life.

“You love that feeling? Feeling how full you are of our cocks?” Jensen says lowly into her ear. Making her whine and grind her hips against them.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jensen adds.

“And I’ll even take that as, someone move.” Jared chuckles.

“Well lets not keep her waiting.” Jensen says as he pulls out before slamming back in. the sensation causing a yelp escape from her mouth.

Jared slightly pulling out, the head not even escaping from the opening, before slamming back in, his balls smacking against her.

And then they started a pace that had a rhythm when one pulls out someone thrusts in and rinse and repeat.

Y/N bounced up and down against Jared at the force of which they were delivering.

Her breathing was catching up as the coil in her abdomen built up in intensity. Each moan escaping with each breath.

“Sounds like she’s close again,” Jared growled.

“Lets give it to her.”

“God, I’m…” She moaned.

Her walls clamped down hard without warning around them, she could feel a warm, wet ooze spill inside her womb as Jensen’s thrust slow.

Her back arched off of Jared’s chest, the back of her head nuzzled in the crook of Jared’s neck as she came with a strangled wanton moan.

“Got one more left in you Stacks?”

“Damn right I do, lets see how stretched she can get.”

“Fuck me.” She pants.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get there.”

Jared slowly pulled out, he smiled proud at how stretched open she was from him.

Jensen stilled inside her as Jared guided his still hard cock to her soaking heat.

“Focus on me sweetheart, he’s gonna go slow. Just holler if you can’t take it.”

She nods against Jared. Jensen held her close giving Jared enough room to maneuver close to her so he could inch his way in.

She could feel her walls stretch to accommodate not only Jensen but now Jared, as he inched his way further in, until he was balls deep.

“What a trooper.” Jensen congratulated, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Oh god, someone start moving.” She moans.

They moved at the same time, nearly pulling out before thrusting back in.

“Oh god!” she moans.

Their pace starts slow as they worked her back up with each, full, thrust.

Her heart spiked into her throat as her coil slowly built up, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Their paced quickened as they felt their end coming to a head.

“Oh, guys,” she moans. Her legs quivering and shaking as her orgasm draws near.

“Almost,” Jensen growls.

“There,” Jared adds, as his hips buckled against her, the used condom filling up with more of his seed.

Jensen’s hips buckled and spasmed not long after Jared, spilling more into her as her walls clamped shut around them nearly milking them dry, as she came with a scream, their names on her tongue.

She saw pure white, heated pleasure as they worked her through her high. Getting them through their own.

She woke up, to Jensen and Jared passed out, sandwiching her between them. She noticed a certain glow on them as they slept, they noticed the same glow before sleep to them.

She snuggled more into them as best as she could, feeling their release slowly oozing out of her as she adjusted herself. Smiling, content with what she did with her two loves of her life.

A birthday present she will never forget, but she does have to think of something for them.

Tags:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @evansrogerskitten, @akshi8278, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/9/2021

196 notes · View notes

kalee60 · 4 years

Note

i wish you would write a fic where jock!bucky seduces twink!steve, maybe he hits steve with that pec flex guys do that is both dick-ish and insanely hot at the same time?

Oh Manda - you absolute gorgeous gem! I very much like what you're asking me to create here 😘 I also love, love, love that you sent me a prompt!

I immediately think of sun, summer, ice cream, boys at the beach playing frisbee and our gorgeous Smol!Steve and Jock!Bucky as friends mutually pining (Ha - it's me, it was never going to be anything but this story!)

Once again, my quick little drabble (that I wrote today when I woke up {thanks to my sprinting buddies in discord}) turned into a 4k fic... But I mean - I think that's okay (more stucky for us - right?)

I hope you like where I took this, maybe in a slightly different direction than intended - it's also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to check them out and read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Beach and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

Steve was in hell, literally. It was hot, he was sweaty and he was being tortured. Honestly, Steve really loved summer, but at the same time he loathed it. And most of that had to do with the fact he had to sit around in his large group of friends and watch Bucky fucking Barnes sans top and wearing only a small pair of running shorts frolic over the sand at the beach.

Life was unfair.

How could somebody like Bucky actually exist in real time? He was a complete jock for starters, his looks and size perfect for being naturally great at sports, earning him a football scholarship of his choice (of course). And Steve, well Steve Rogers was as far from a jock as anyone could get. Not that he was horrible in the fitness and muscular department, but he was too little and his asthma still played up to join rugged contact sports. Being 5’4 also didn’t particularly endear him to any of the coaches at college who were scouting for star players. Plus studying to be a high school teacher probably wasn’t sporty enough, and he was leaning towards a specialist English role, not Gym.

So Steve joined the campus gym instead of a sporting team, did weights and classes and enjoyed it immensely. It was where he met Natasha, and that fateful meeting brought him to Bucky and his dickish jock ways and friends.

Though if Steve was to be fair (of which he was - usually) not all jocks were dicks, even if Steve had preconceived notions from high school what college boys would be like. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the captain of the football team was not only gorgeous, cocky and a bit of a douche, but also very smart, kind and had a smile that could make Steve’s legs turn to jelly with only a small half tilt.

But it was as he sat on a towel under the shade of a large umbrella that Carol had stolen from her parent’s garden shed, that Steve really felt the heat, and it had nothing to do with the blazing sun above him and the burning sand beneath his feet.

It was all Bucky Barnes and his chest, his slim waist, his tanned olive skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his sinewed and muscled thighs that tapered down to calves that bunched up as he jumped and landed to grab the frisbee aimed at him.

Steve sighed heavily as his gaze lingered on the brunette. Bucky Barnes was every mans wet dream, every girls perfect prince, and Steve pulled his dark sunnies over his eyes again, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the throbbing in his groin as he watched Bucky behind dark lenses spring up and prance over the sand, laughing with a wide mouth that could do sinful things to Steve’s body. The worst part was that Bucky was doing all of this with no knowledge that Steve harboured the biggest crush of his life.

It really was unfair.

Sitting back to lean on his hands, stretching his legs out, he saw Bucky glance over at him, and gave a smile. Bucky grinned back and then grappled Sam to the sand to yank the frisbee from his grip. Life wasn’t unfair because Bucky didn’t date guys, he did, very much so, and girls too from what Steve had seen, it was just the guys Bucky dated were typically more like… jocks.

Steve hunched over, trying to not stare too long and inadvertently get turned on, finding it an impossibility as his eyes wouldn’t tear away from Bucky’s frame as he bounded effortlessly over the soft sand, something Steve couldn’t do. He’d almost lost a lung from the trek over to their secluded spot earlier that day. Soft sand was the enemy - that was fact.

“Heads up.”

Startled from his thoughts by Bucky’s deep voice urgently calling out his way, Steve looked up only to see the frisbee coming straight for him. With a reaction that even surprised himself, Steve raised his hand and caught the flying disc with nary a blink of an eye.

Bucky was skidding to a halt on his knees before him a second later.

“Shit, Steve. That was epic, you sure you don’t want to play? You can be on my team - my secret frisbee weapon.”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to listen to the words leaving Bucky, because the delectable man was less than two feet away and the smell of sunscreen, sweat and something virile and uniquely Bucky entered his senses. Steve knew that if sitting next to Bucky in the dining hall was torture when Bucky was wearing his spicy cologne, he’d keel over being enveloped in his sweaty beach scent for longer than a minute.

God he wanted Bucky to fill him, everywhere. Make him forget his name, take him over and over.

He realised that he still hadn’t answered and heat crept into his cheeks, managing to blurt out, “I’m good for now. Nat’s grabbing ice creams and I don’t want to get a stitch.”

Steve then gave Bucky what he hoped was a soft and cheeky winning grin, but the way Bucky faltered, swallowed tightly, face impassive made Steve wonder if he’d missed the mark on trying to be flirty.

He really was as hopeless as Darcy continually told him.

Steve’s eyes trailed down to Bucky’s broad and lightly haired chest, finding himself breathing quicker, wondering if he’d remembered to pack his inhaler. No, he was sure it was in the pocket of his backpack. Thank god, he might need it in the face of Bucky’s glorious muscles moving in his vision all day.

“If you’re sure,” Bucky finally said in a deep steady voice.

“Maybe later,” Steve stammered, holding up the frisbee with a shaky hand. He had to get a grip.

“Alright, later then, I’m holding you to that.” And Bucky took the disc from Steve’s grip and was off bounding towards Sam, Carol, Thor and Maria.

While Steve recalibrated his thoughts, Nat came back holding only one ice cream cone, licking it slowly with a sparkle in her eye as Clint trailed behind, wearing Nat’s beach bag and carrying the rest of the ice creams, and Steve worried she’d overestimated his balancing skills. But if Nat asked, Clint would do - it was kind of amazing the power she had over him without even trying. Although they weren’t dating (yet), Nat was never cruel, she was playing the long game and really liked Clint, but had been hurt before by some Russian asshole, and Steve knew that Clint, when Nat finally agreed to go out with him would never be the same man again. He’d be lost in deep shock and joy. They were perfect for each other.

A pang went through his gut as Steve watched them, taking a cone from Clint, wishing he had someone that wanted him as much as they wanted each other.

“Vanilla,” Nat commented with a scrunch of her nose at Steve’s choice as he took a lick of the creamy goodness, the chill on his tongue welcome under the heat of the day. “You’re so very basic, Rogers.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with that. I happen to love vanilla.” A rich voice said from right in front of Steve as Bucky flopped down on the sand, kicking up little grains that stuck on Bucky’s thighs where he was sweating. Steve shut his eyes against the picture before him, once again pleading to any God or Goddess that would listen that it wasn’t fair, that they had to find him someone one day. He just hoped it would be soon, else his dick drop off from Bucky unwittingly giving him blue balls.

“You’re one to talk, you didn’t even want ice cream, just a soda. And a club soda at that.”

Bucky looked over to Nat, flashing her a wide grin, and Steve immediately started to lick his ice cream just to do anything but stare at the crinkling in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, or to watch his lips as they wrapped around the bottle tip. He only half listened to their banter as they kept teasing each other, Nat and Bucky having been best friends from childhood, the reason how Steve inadvertently fell into the group of jocks, for a lack of a better term to encompass all the fit people he was now surrounded with.

Nat had introduced him to everyone after they’d hit it off at the gym in first semester, and Steve had waited for the inevitable teasing to commence about his small stature, but it never came. He was always included, never mocked (unless it was called for, because he was a facts man and couldn’t help correcting people when they were clearly in the wrong) and it was such a novel experience, so how could he not fall immediately in lust with the football captain? One who had smokey blue-grey eyes, sinfully full lips made for kissing among other fun activities and a personality that you could fall into and live inside forever.

“Err, Steve… your ice cream, it’s ummm, dripping.”

“What?” Steve asked, realising that he’d been swirling his tongue over the top of the soft confectionary and that his fingers were now completely sticky as the ice cream dripped over them on to his thigh. “Oh shit.”

Steve immediately switched hands and started to lap at his fingers, tongue darting between them to catch all the creaminess, sucking them into his mouth one by one, only looking up when he heard a muted groan. Bucky was moving before him, squirming in the sand, and as his eyes landed on Bucky, he startled, surprised to find Bucky’s hooded gaze directly on Steve. But his eyes hadn’t landed just anywhere, they were trained to Steve’s mouth, and as Steve swiped his finger through the sweetness that had dribbled on his thigh, Bucky’s gaze followed that finger's movements. Steve without thought, heart thumping hard, confusion and awe flowing through his veins, stuck the digit in his mouth, licking off the stickiness.

Thankfully, Steve had his sunglasses on, hiding his expression, but he knew his face was burning red at the brash and overt display. Bucky was watching him intently, the rise and fall of his gloriously thick chest heaved, and Bucky’s skin flushed from the exercise or maybe the sun. Steve wasn’t sure.

But it was as Steve licked around the base of the cone again, the ice cream melting quicker in the heat than he could swallow, Bucky’s pecs twitched.

Steve stopped all movement, caught at the tick of flesh, the way it bounced taut, watching with abject lust and desire as Bucky did it again - knowing exactly where Steve’s eyes were trained.

It was such a fucking dick move, a power move to get attention and Steve hated jocks who flexed like that, but on Bucky… on Bucky it was god damn mesmerizing. And it was after the third time Bucky’s pecs jumped, Bucky stood up abruptly and fled saying in a higher pitch than usual that he was jumping in the water, that Steve realised he might not have been doing it on purpose.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bucky was dead, he was going to die from being hard for... how long had he known Steve Rogers, six months maybe? Well, that was how long he’d survived with a non-stop boner for the blonde man. And he was at the end of his tether.

Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted in a partner, smart, strong, intense, funny, handsome and a person that he could fall into, spend time with - love.

So it didn't help his little issue to be at the beach that day, watching Steve sit under the huge umbrella on brightly coloured towels in his swim trunks and a loose tank with arm holes so big he could see all the way through to his muscular chest and pink nipples. It was driving him fucking insane.

Sure he’d seen Steve wearing an array of items at the gym, but he’d never witnessed him so carefree as he was at the beach. He was smiling more, relaxed, joking while big sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes that would give the ocean a run for its money as to what was bluer.

But what killed Bucky that particular day over every other day he lusted after Steve, what made him clench and twitch all over was watching Steve lick up his ice cream. It was downright obscene, Steve shouldn’t be allowed to do that in public, or at least he should have a warning sticker on his person.

Steve had a mouth made for sucking cock, and Bucky wanted, no, he needed to know what having those lips wrapped around him felt like. Christ, he wanted to know what it felt like to be buried in Steve, maybe even have Steve press into him. Fuck.

There was only one thing for it.

He had to seduce Steve, and he had to do it soon.

But that begged the question - how?

How did Bucky capture the attention of the smartest, funniest, quick witted and grumpiest man on campus? Not only that, but to have Steve take him seriously? Bucky was aware that people thought he was only a dumb jock, that all he had to offer the world was to play ball and shit talk other teams and work out in the gym. Which, yeah of course he did all of those things - but he really was so much more. He was studying economics, was thinking about trying to specialise and work as an international trade specialist after college, and although Bucky really loved playing ball - it wasn’t his whole life. He’d never go pro - well, not without a hell of a lot of luck and persistence, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take something he enjoyed and make it a living in that way. He’d seen how broken some sports stars bodies were after a career, and he still wanted to be able to walk at forty without having had three knee reconstructions.

But Steve, Steve saw through all of that, he spoke to Bucky like an intellect, like he had something worthy to say, to add to the conversation. Even at the gym after Nat had introduced them (Bucky begging to know who the gorgeous guy she was chatting to on the rowing machines was) Steve and he worked out together, had fun catcalling each other for being weak and helped each other with their forms - something Bucky largely did just to get hands on Steve even though Steve’s form was perfect.

Bucky had been taken with the slight man from the first moment he’d seen him, always under the impression that Steve was too smart to even think about dating a meathead like him, even if he truly wasn't what his physique made him. So he stuck with friendship, but now he wanted more. Was going to ask for more.

“Whatcha thinking?” Nat asked as she swam out to float in the water next to him.

“Nothing much,” He replied, ignoring her knowing hum. He hated that they’d been friends forever and she knew all his tells.

The much needed cold water had soothed his itching skin, and from his vantage point he could look back at their rag tag group of friends, able to stare unabashadly at Steve as he laughed with Clint and Thor about something, staring up at Thor as he... as he fucking flexed in front of Steve.

“Easy boy,” Natasha grabbed his bicep that was taut from clenching his fists, “Thor’s with Jane remember? Steve’s not interested in someone like Thor anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to her immediately. “What do you mean? Because he's a jock?”

Nat let out an exasperated sigh. “No you idiot. Because he’s interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s chest squeezed tight, wondering who had Steve’s undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but watch Steve as Carol held out a hand to pull him to his feet, and suddenly Bucky forgot his disappointment when Steve pulled his tank off, revealing a gorgeous toned body in all its glory. Bucky’s dick stirred. Thank fuck he was hidden in the water.

“You are a colossal idiot. You know that right?” Nat deadpanned.

“I have to ask Steve out,” he blurted. “I need to… I need to be with him.”

“I know,” Nat said with a smirk, and Bucky looked at her gratefully, if she helped he would be fine. “But that really sounds like a you problem. Have fun with that.”

“You horrible cow,” Bucky sniped back, ready to splash her, but she was already under the water stealthily swimming up behind Clint, only to dunk the unsuspecting man.

Bucky’s attention suddenly caught on movement on the shoreline as Steve stood knee deep, testing the water and with no further hesitation, dove in, coming up for air not far from where Bucky floated. Bucky watched mesmerized as the sun glinted off Steve’s wet eyelashes, before he wiped the droplets from them, smiling at Bucky.

“Oh god, this water feels amazing.”

“So would you,” Bucky whispered.

“Huh?” Steve asked.

For a long moment, Bucky stared at Steve, realising that sound carried over water differently and Steve most likely caught what he said. Seducing someone was hard, even though he hadn’t even tried yet.

Instead of answering, Bucky ducked his head so his mouth went underwater and swam towards Steve like a shark, deciding that he just had to ask him point blank, no messing around with seduction. Slipping up out of the water at the last moment he put on his most predatory smile, Steve’s eyes widening and he looked around, face flushed and Bucky hoped he wasn’t looking for an escape.

He quickly darted behind Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his lithe body, trying not to linger too much as Steve was the perfect fit, felt so good against him; and when he heard the small gasp from Steve’s throat he launched him into the air. Flinging Steve into the water a few feet away.

“You fucker,” Steve exclaimed laughing as he came up for air, and Bucky smirked.

Suddenly with a smirk of his own that made Bucky inhale sharply, Steve disappeared under the water, Bucky feeling him come up underneath his body and with a strength that belied Steve’s small stature, completely turning Bucky on more than it should, he was pushed up out of the water, throwing him completely under as well.

“Jesus, Steve. You should join the team.” Bucky spluttered when he came up for air.

Steve grinned back, pushing wet hair out of his eyes and Bucky stared, lost in how stunning Steve looked in the sunlight, that he was there before him alone in the ocean full of people, “I mean they already have you and Sam as Captains. Wouldn’t want to put either of you out of a job.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt you’d do it too, Stevie.”

And when Steve stopped smiling, Bucky realised what he’d said.

“Shit, sorry - you don’t like that? Nicknames?”

“No I... I do…” Steve answered softly, and Bucky became lost in a blue that matched the water they were treading.

“Would you get out with me?” Bucky blurted.

“Sorry? Get out of the water?”

Bucky internally facepalmed himself. “No, I mean go out.”

“Out. With you?”

Bucky nodded.

“Err, why me?” Steve asked in a small voice lost on a gust of wind.

Looking at Steve, who stared back at him with questions in his eyes, Bucky wanted to explain how much he’d desired it for months, to tell Steve all the ways he wanted to make him happy, and as a multitude of words sat on his tongue, Bucky suddenly understood Steve might not listen to his reasoning, might not believe him. So he decided to show his intent instead, and swam closer. Steve’s eyes were wide, guileless, Bucky seeing a small spark of something more, and hoping he wasn’t triple jumping over a line, he swam up behind Steve. He felt Steve tense up, anticipating to be flung into the water again, but instead, Bucky pulled him closer so that Steve’s back slotted against his front and leaned in, mouth only an inch away from Steve’s ear.

“Why you? Oh Stevie, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. How much I want you.” Bucky pressed his nose against the back of Steve’s ear and inhaled deeply, sunscreen, salt and Steve’s shampoo filled his senses and he lost his head for a moment, especially when Steve let out a high pitched groan and wriggled back into Bucky. “I want to spread you out beneath me, I want to lick all the sweat off your body, sweat that I'm going to cause from working you hard, making you work extra hard for my dick, because Stevie - I want you, I want you bad, and I think you might want me back just as much.”

Bucky hoped he wasn’t completely off base with his desires, that Steve really was just as interested, and when Steve ground back against him, skin sliding against Bucky’s, letting out another moan at the friction when he felt Bucky hardening up underneath him, Bucky knew it was going to be ok.

“Yes…” Steve whimpered as his shorts caught against Bucky’s dick, pushing backwards.

“You want that baby?”

“Fuck. Yes, I do.”

“How much?”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle at the noise. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want it?” Bucky knew he was being a prick, making his pec’s tense against Steve’s back, pulling him onto his lap as they floated in the water, before wrapping a leg around one of Steve’s pulling it to the side, making Steve gasp gorgeously.

“A normal amount,” Steve husked back.

“Oh, you want me a normal amount - is that all?” Bucky smirked before licking a sloppy stripe up Steve’s neck at the same time as he snuck a hand down the front of Steve’s swim trunks, gripping his dick tightly, feeling the impressive length and girth for the first time. Fuck, he was definietly not taking switching of the table. But not anytime soon. First, he wanted to take Steve apart in every way conceivable.

Steve meanwhile, was liquid in his arms, going slack as Bucky took his time to explore while they floated in circles not far from the shore, but far enough out they wouldn’t get in trouble. He hoped.

The moans tearing from Steve’s throat were getting louder though, Bucky loving every noise punched out of Steve as he stroked harder under the water, the friction and pressure of the water making him slower and more languid than usual. And Bucky wanted to make Steve call out with no thought or boundaries, nothing to stifle his pleasure, he needed Steve coming in his arms, again and again.

“I think you might just want me a little more than that.” Bucky rasped against Steve’s neck, sucking a bruise onto his pink skin, giving Steve’s dick another sharp tug and before he knew what was happening, Steve was shaking in his arms, whimpering out a release and Bucky was speechless. Utterly speechless as he continued to stroke Steve slowly, carefully as he jerked in his hand.

“Holy fuck, you’re stunning, gorgeous, the absolute best,” Bucky rambled into Steve’s neck, nipping kisses and pressing his lips against him in absolute awe at what had just occured.

Suddenly Steve moved, spinning himself around to straddle Bucky and he went under for a moment as their weights shifted and came back up spluttering, only for Steve to launch himself so his lips pushed against his. Steve took over, devouring his mouth, and although Bucky was the one in control, holding them both up, he’d never felt so out of control as Steve writhed and ground down as best he could in the water. Shit, Steve was going to be a handful and Bucky was there for it.

As he kissed back, grabbing the back of Steve’s head, holding him still as he pressed his tongue in deeply, a huge beach ball smacked into the side of his face. They jumped apart with a gasp.

“Don’t make me go get the hose!” Nat yelled out as she and Clint swam around nearby. “It’s about time you dolts wised up, but this is a public beach with you know - families.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s face flushed a perfect shade of red, and he couldn’t help but grab him again, giving him a quick intense kiss, claiming Steve until he struggled for breath, to show Bucky’s intent was clear and true. It was pure perfection.

“We’ll pick this up again later.” Bucky promised.

“Later.” Steve replied breathlessly.

Suddenly Steve pushed himself away from Bucky, grabbing and throwing the beach ball, hitting Clint dead on the nose. The surprised yelp from both Clint and Natasha made Bucky laugh.

“Oh it’s so on, James,” Nat yelled out.

Steve piped up from his side, “you wish, Romanoff - we’re gonna take you down!”

Bucky beamed.

“Yeah!” he called over to them, dodging the ball that came directly for him as Nat and Clint shit-talked. And as he and Steve swam out to retrieve the ball floating behind them, Bucky turned to Steve and gave him an overtly salacious wink. “And once we take them down, I’m going to take you home and show you what going down is all about.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Really? That was incredibly lame, especially for a savvy sex-crazed jock.”

“You’re not interested in my proposal then?”

“Oh I’m interested,” Steve grinned, licking his lips and Bucky caught his breath. “But if you’re going to use dad jokes on the regular - I might have to start calling you something else in the bedroom.”

Steve then threw the ball, Nat ducking at the last minute, and Bucky didn’t even feel when the returning pitch slammed into his head; Steve’s words creating a delicious cacophony of images and filthy thoughts in his mind instead.

Bucky had always known that Stevie Rogers was going to be both the life and death of him, and as he rubbed his head, grasping the ball in one hand, ready to throw it, he couldn’t wait to see where their adventure would take them.

But first - Clint had to pay.

#stucky #mywriting #friends to lovers #college #bottom Steve #implied switch #beach and fun #melting ice creams are a real issue for libidos #gift for Manda - the best and brightest of them all #prompt game #kalee answers

154 notes · View notes