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queenofhearts7378 · 4 years ago

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Constellations Ch. 2

(Yes it finally has a title. Yes this is ending up multi chaptered. Yes there’s another part I’m writing. Yes I already have an outline for a vague plot....Yes I’m still blaming @ladylynse for this XD)

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Danny was very much unprepared and underdressed for the time when some wizards fell out of his fireplace.

He paused in the doorway, spoon still in his mouth and cheeks full of cereal, as his brother stood up and brushed the soot off him with a displeased nose scrunch.

Danny swallowed. "And you couldn't just use the door?"

Honestly they're lucky his parents had left to chase down the Box Ghost earlier. Otherwise they'd be covered in a lot more than soot and ash.

Danny couldn't help the snort that escaped at the mental picture of Draco covered in ectoplasm and boiling in rage.

Draco narrowed his eyes, seeming to pick up that Danny was making fun of him. "Using the Floo was quicker."

"....quicker than walking through the door."

"It's a wizard thing you wouldn't understand." Draco snapped back, his go to response whenever he couldn't argue against Danny's logic at the moment.

"Uh huh. Anyways what are you doing here?" Danny asked, "You aren't supposed to be here for another two weeks."

Which was time previously planned for Draco to prepare for his summer in America while Danny finished school. Spend the two weeks after Hogwarts let out recuperating and making public appearances with his parents, then spend the rest of the summer with the Fentons.

Actually now that Danny was looking, it seemed Draco had come straight from school. His hair was lacking half its gel, he was still wearing his green tie, and his robes were a very boring black as opposed to the various greys and blues he flaunted around in the previous summer.

“Denebola, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” Drawled the man standing behind Draco.

“Hello creepy man that I have never met before,” Danny said, echoing his tone.

Draco choked on air as the discount Kylo Ren sneered at him.

“This is Professor Snape Danny.” A familiar please-don’t-say-anything-that-will-get-us-in-trouble tone coloring Draco’s words. “My godfather.”

Oh the potion guy. Danny remembers Draco talking about him now. He was friends with Draco’s parents, which didn’t really impress Danny that much as all of the Malfoy’s friends seemed to be really rich snobs or really racist. Mostly both.

But he was Draco’s godfather, the reason he got into potions, his favorite professor and someone Draco would willingly go to get advice from. So, Danny decided to reserve judgement till he met him. Well….he met him.

Danny looked Draco dead in the eyes, “My apologies.”

Draco closed his eyes in mortification, which made Danny grin internally. They were really getting the hang of the whole ‘speaking without talking to each other twin thing’.

Professor Snape just scowled at him. “Where are the….muggles?" Disdain dripped off his words, instantly making Danny defensive. He had heard enough at Malfoy Manor about disgraceful, savage muggles from Lucius. Even Draco had echoed his father till Danny dragged him kicking and screaming into being a slightly decent person.

"My parents," Danny said, stressing the word, "Are working right now."

Okay maybe they were just being their usual trigger happy selves and running after Boxy, but there was no way he was telling Professor Snape that without it leading to an hour long discussion about ghosts. And Danny did not have time for that. He shoved a giant spoonful of cereal in his mouth as he met Professor Snape's eyes and-huh.

Draco never told Danny his godfather could read minds. He could feel the light brushes of a foreign mind attempting to gleam information from his surface thoughts. Danny didn't know if it was his wizard ancestry or halfa weirdness that made him sensitive to this kind of stuff. Either way, it was useful in keeping his secrets in his head from privacy invading school teachers.

Danny glowered at Snape and immediately thought of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up music video.

The two of them stared at each other for a minute, making Draco more and more anxious as no one said anything.

Finally Snape broke contact, "Where should his things go?"

Danny tried very hard not to smirk after winning that staring contest, "You can just leave them here, we'll get them later."

With one last displeased sneer, Snape turned to Draco. "I'm needed back at Hogwarts. I trust you are in good hands."

Draco nodded, still looking tense and anxious as hell.

Snape walked back to the fireplace. He paused next to Draco, "Take care of yourself Draco."

Draco softened under his glare, "I will Professor. Thank you."

Snape nodded and shot one more glare at Danny, who still had Rick Astley echoing in his head, before vanishing into the fireplace in a swirl of green fire.

Draco turned back to Danny and said, "You stress me out."

Danny snorted before walking back into the kitchen to put his bowl in the sink. Draco followed after him, looking at all the kitchen appliances with a barely hidden curious look.

"Something else we have in common."

"What are you wearing?" He asked with a nose scrunched in displeasure.

Danny shot him a look, "My pajamas, cause I just woke up. I haven't finished getting ready for school. You should probably change too."

"Why?"

Danny started for the stairs, Draco still following at his heels. "You can't wear robes to public school. I think you can fit in my jeans."

"What?!" Draco screeched, halting at the bottom of the stairs, "I'm not going to muggle school with you!"

"It's either that or stay here by yourself for hours." Danny said as he paused outside his room. Draco scrambled up after him. "Cause my parents won't be home for a couple more hours, after which you'll be alone with them till I get home."

Danny smirked at him, "My parents are going to be thrilled to see you, can you really handle their enthusiasm all by yourself?"

Draco could barely stand Danny showing various forms of physical affection, as proven last summer when Danny would throw an arm around Draco's shoulders and almost get hexed. And Ancients forbid Danny try to hug him. Draco might actually lose the wand and just punch him. Danny had spent most of their correspondence over the school year prepping Draco for the Fenton welcome wagon so he wouldn't hiss like a cat when he gets hugged. Okay, and maybe Danny just wanted to see his overdramatic brother's face as he is subjected to his parent's bear hugs.

Draco scowled at him, "Fine. But I'm not wearing any jeans."

Draco stomped into Danny's room and slammed the door in his face. He heard the lock click as it was shut.

"Hey! I still gotta get dressed!" Danny banged on the door, "C'mon Drake it's still my room!"

Danny groaned before walking over to the bathroom. He phased through the wall and landed on the fire escape. It took a few minutes, but he eventually maneuvered to his window and slipped in.

Draco had dug into Danny's closet and pulled out the most dressy tux Danny owned and was in the middle of putting it on.

"You are not wearing that."

Draco scowled at him, "It’s bad enough I'm lowering myself by going with you-”

“Lowering yourself?”

“-But,” he said loudly, “I absolutely refuse to wear common muggle wear. If I’m going to this school, I will not look anything less than my absolute best.”

Danny stared at him. “Drake you will be thrown into the dumpster if you wear that to my school. Let me just-”

Danny jumped on him, trying to remove the suit jacket from a struggling Draco. Draco shouted and tried to twist away, only for Danny to pull it over his head. Once Draco was out of sight, and swearing loudly at him, Danny subtly used his intangibility to yank it off him. And if he happened to remove all of Draco’s hair gel that he used to keep his hair slicked back….well, that would have gotten him thrown in a dumpster as well.

Danny tried not to laugh as Draco glared at him, his hair fluffed up and looking vaguely like an angry kitten.

"Do you know how long it takes me to fix my hair? I have to completely redo it now! And how'd you get that off me?" He pointed at the jacket Danny was throwing back in his closet.

Danny grinned at him, "Magic."

Draco gave him a flat look.

"Anyway we've got to go, otherwise I'm gonna be late again, and get detention again, and you'll be forced to either walk home by yourself or stay at school with me."

Somehow Danny had managed to get dressed and drag Draco out the door with him, texting Sam and Tucker his plans to walk so they could meet up on the way.

"What is that?" Draco leaned over to squint at the phone in Danny's hand.

"My phone. I told you about it last summer."

Draco hummed, "I thought it was broken?"

"Yeah, cause your magic blew it up. My parents fixed it." Danny shoved his phone back in his pocket like Draco was about to blow it up again. "Now what happened?"

Draco shot him a glance, before letting his eyes flicker around them. "I did try to tell you muggle 'technology' and magic doesn't always go together."

"Drake, you know that's not what I mean." He said softly.

Draco was silent, his jaw clenched and his hands shaking before he shoved them in his pockets.

They walked in silence for a while.

"You'll get hurt."

Danny looked at him.

"I…." Draco sighed, "I've never…."

Danny waited silently for him to get the words out on his own, knowing that pushing him will only make him clam up.

"You aren't like us. And I don't mean that in any bad way!" He said quickly when he saw Danny's face. "But you know what my parents are like, and their friends are so much worse, and you're the first person I've ever had to worry about. I just want you to be safe."

Oh Ancients, that was a lot to unpack there.

Danny had known something had happened during school. The two of them spent the school year exchanging letters, both of them wanting to stay in contact. Danny would tell him about his school, and his parents' antics, and explain random muggle technology to get Draco prepared for his summer with the Fentons.

Meanwhile, Draco had complained at length about Potter and a tournament and Potter being insufferable about a tournament. There was a furious letter about being turned into a ferret and how Potter and his friends keep bringing it up. Draco sent him about three feet of parchment around Christmas just making fun of Potter at a dance and how horrible he was. There was a lot about some famous Quidditch guy and then a lot about Potter’s friend stealing the famous Quidditch guy.

Draco complained about Potter a lot, okay?

But Draco never sent him a letter about the tournament results or if Potter got eaten by a bog witch or whatever it was he was hoping for the last task. He just showed up, two weeks early and clearly shaken about whatever it was that happened.

That isn’t a good sign at all. And Danny had eavesdropped enough last summer to get a decent idea as to what was going on.

“This is….this is about him isn’t it?”

Draco flinched, which was enough answer for him. Danny let out a breath.

“We can-we can talk about this later. I care about you too Drake, and I know your family is neck deep in this mess.” Danny bumped his shoulder, “You’re safe here, that’s why Narcissa sent you here right?”

Draco leaned against his brother’s shoulder, eyes still flitting across the street and his jaw clenched. “Yeah. We’re safe here.”

#queen will write #dp twin au #harry potter #draco malfoy #danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #constellations fic #oh boy here we go #....this is coming out a little angsty #hmmm....that was not supposed to happen #i know five-rivers is writing a fic too #but we seem to be going different directions with it #they're bringing danny to the wizarding world #i'm shoving malfoy at the muggle one #oh i haven't even got to the part where he actually goes to the school #*rubs my hands maniacally*#this is gonna be fun

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carryonwaywardkansas · 3 years ago

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Carry On Kansas

Chapter One: What Riley Saw (Part Two)

Summary: Riley and Sam convince Dean to take her along on the search for their father; as their time in Jericho begins, the search for John Winchester yields more questions than answers, and tensions between the trio only grow.

Warnings: General supernatural warnings apply. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: And here we see a bit little more about how Riley and Sam operate. Enjoy the ride.

Sneaking out of Sam’s apartment unseen isn’t the problem, sneaking into his brother’s car unseen is.

After she climbs through the window and down the fire escape, Riley waits in the shadows just beyond Sam’s apartment building for the perfect moment to make her way to Dean’s car. But Dean talks a lot and her opening never comes. She can’t wait too long if she wants to join them before they leave.

Riley quickly makes her way to Sam’s side and tosses her bag into the backseat before he can close the rear passenger door, she reaches out to keep it from closing, and lightly taps the back of his left knee with the toe of her boot. She chuckles as he whirls around to face her, throwing his hands up defensively.

“Relax, Chewie. It’s just me,” she says, amused. She smiles up at him and gestures to the car.

“What are you doing here, Kansas?” Sam asks.

“I’m going with you.”

“Like hell. It isn’t safe for you.”

“And you think leaving me here is? I’m going.”

Sam narrows his eyes on his best friend; Riley plants herself firmly in her spot before him. This isn’t an argument she’ll willingly give up so easily. If Sam won’t listen to her the easy way, she’ll make him listen the hard way.

Riley’s stubbornness wins out, Sam’s expression melts away. Soon enough, a chilling realization crosses his features and he gently squeezes her left shoulder. “What did you see?” His voice holds a hint of hope that she’ll tell him to quit being such a paranoid dork, but she doesn’t. “Riley. What did you see?”

“You, Sam. I saw you.”

It doesn’t take long for the duo to talk Dean into letting Riley go; promising to explain everything after they figure out where the boys’ father is. But Dean’s unhappiness with bringing along another body greatly sours the mood―“It’s not safe for her. She’ll slow us down, Sam.”

“She’s better off with us than she is staying here.”

“If she gets hurt, that’s on y―”

“Hey! I am standing right here. And I can take care of myself.”

“I’ve got her, I promise.”―but Sam insists.

The discussion drops in favour of brooding silence, the three of them pile into the Impala without another word.

Jericho, California. Riley only ever heard of the small town by word of mouth; even sitting in the back of Dean's Impala on the way there seems like a dream. But she is awake, and she is with Sam, and so far nothing else has occurred. They still haven’t told Dean the true reason why she needs to go along; Sam opted to keep it between them unless absolutely necessary, Riley reluctantly agreed.

She noted the tension between the brothers before they left Sam’s apartment, she wants to ask Sam why but doesn’t want to risk opening a can of worms she can’t close again. Dean’s stiff reception of her presence on the trip only adds to the weight, and Riley knows she’s in for the longest ride of her life.

But the brand new light of day through the California mountains is a sight Riley didn’t expect to find as pretty as she does that following morning. She’s seen the sunrise a thousand times, and yet, somehow watching it from the back window of Dean’s car looks different. The atmosphere between her and the two brothers remains stifling, but when the older Winchester boy pulls into a lone gas station just off the highway inside of town, Riley thanks her lucky stars for the break.

“Are you going to tell your brother the truth about why you brought me along?” Riley asks once Dean goes into the scrappy convenience store and leaves the duo behind.

“Nope, not if I can avoid it,” Sam says. He leans forward and rifles under his seat, pulling out a worn out cardboard box filled with cassette tapes.

“Right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just know how you get.”

“Okay. Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you don’t want to do it or if you don’t think it’s important, you avoid it.” Sam scoffs; Riley drapes herself over the front seat. “You avoid things you don’t want to deal with and hope they’ll just go away. That’s why you haven’t called your brother in years.”

Sam opens the front passenger door and focuses his attention on the tapes. Riley can press the issue but knows it won’t do any good then. She lets it go in favour of watching Dean return with his haul from the convenience store.

Riley wonders what it was about Dean that Sam hates so much. He’s unbearable, sure, but she doesn’t see why Sam is so intent on avoiding him. She’d give anything to have her family call her, even just to say hello.

“Hey, either of you want breakfast?” Dean breaks the awkward tension, walking around the back of the Impala.

“No, thanks,” Sam says. He keeps the box on his knees, picking through the tapes. “So how’d you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?”

“Yeah, well, hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, we just apply. It’s not our fault they send us the cards. How about you, Riley, breakfast?”

Riley rolls her eyes. “Uh, no. I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?”

“Uh, Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal.”

Sam nods. “Sounds about right.”

Riley shuffles in the backseat, stretches and drapes herself over the front seat again. “So, you’re a fraud, is that it?”

Dean flashes Riley a wide grin. He spent the better part of their drive the night before, flirting with her. Riley was not impressed. “What? It gets the job done.”

“And what job might that be?” Riley reaches over the seat to grab a few of the cassette tapes out of Sam’s hands. She raises her eyebrows at him, silently asking what the hell he plans on doing with the box of them anyway.

“I swear, man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one―they’re cassette tapes, and two―Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica? It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock. Oh, and Riley, you’re gonna love this one.”

Riley frowns, taking the tape Sam offers her. She scrunches up her nose in disgust and rolls her eyes. “Kansas? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dean grins. “I thought it was funny. That’s your name, right?” He snatches the Metallica tape out of Sam’s hand and threw it back into the box, then grabs a different one and put it in the tape deck. He turns to Riley with a wink, nodding to the Kansas tape in her hands. “Keep it. House rules, Sammy―driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.”

“Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It’s Sam, okay?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. The music’s too loud.”

Riley smiles softly and pockets the tape before Sam sees, she sympathetically pats his shoulder and settled back against the seat. The rest of the trip is going to be a long one for both of them.

As they drive, Riley takes the time they’re in the car to familiarize herself with as much as she can about the case they’re on. Sam didn’t tell her much about hunting, leaving out the dirtier details but she’s able piece together the rest on her own.

“All right, so there’s no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that’s something, I guess,” Sam says, hanging up his phone. He's called around to various places, waiting to get word of John’s whereabouts. He quickly sends a text to Riley where she sits in the backseat; they still haven’t told Dean about her secret, and Riley grows more and more aggravated.

Sam: Are you sure what you saw last night was me?

Tink: Positive. I’m pretty sure I know what you look like, Sam.

“Check it out,” Dean says as he slows the car to a stop. Across the street, two patrol cars sit next to each other, blocking off the entrance to an old bridge. He reaches across the seat to the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of identification cards, he grabs the ones he wants and looks up at his brother. “Let’s go.”

Sam turns to Riley before he exits the car behind Dean. “Stay here, lay low. We’ll be right back.”

Riley watches from the Impala’s backseat as Sam and Dean talk to the officer’s at the crime scene. Whatever is happening, Riley’s glad she stayed behind in the car. Dean parked too far away for her to make out what any of them are saying, but she’s positive it can’t be good. A couple of minutes pass and she sees Sam discreetly stomp on his brother’s foot before the two of them politely excuse themselves and head back toward the car. On the way, Dean slaps the back of Sam’s head and the two of them stop again.

“So, where to now?” Riley inquires once the boys join her.

“The daughter of one of the officer’s has been putting up missing person signs across town, we’re going to see if there’s anything she can tell us that they couldn’t,” Sam answers. He turns in his seat so he can get a good look at Riley’s face. “You good? Need anything?”

Riley shakes her head. “Nope, I’m more interested in what you’re gonna tell this girl when you find her? What makes you think she’s just willingly going to talk to a couple of strange men?”

“That,” Dean says, “is the fun part.”

Taglist: @iwantthedean @nyotamalfoy

#carry on my wayward queue #supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fanfiction

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

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Dean Winchester: Queen

*Credit to gif owner*

Paring: Dean x reader

Pov: Readers

Warnings: Dean dressing in drag, swearing, Dean, loss of a bet, Dean being cocky, mention of Sam, Jealous!Reader Angst/Fluff, lots of talks with Sam, lots of talking with Dean towards the end. reader self-doubt, Dean being reassuring.

Summary: When Dean and the reader place a bet, it goes very much not in Dean favor. Dean has a tendency to get bored quickly though, which leads down a harsh road for the reader. Coming back to the bunker she tries to pretend everything is fine, but Dean wants answers.

Word Count: 3k

A/N- I know lots of pov switches I’m sorry... but I hope this is good and y’all like it.

Main masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69

“Bets are down!” Sam said.

Y/n had bet that if she won that game of pool that Dean would have to dress in drag. Dean bet that if he won pool which he was cocky about winning that Y/n would have to do the research for the next four hunts.

What neither one of them knew was the bet the other one placed.

Sam was the only one. So, the game began. I racked up the fifteen Dean grabbed his pool stick, and grabbed me a pool stick as well. He was being sort of gentleman. He chalked the end of both the pool sticks.

“Are you ready to get your ass beat!?” Dean said handing me my pool stick. “I can’t wait for you to have to do my bet.” Dean said excitement dripping into his words.

I rolled my eyes and rocked on the back of my heels. “Are you done being cocky Dean, so we can play this game?” I asked looking over at Sam.

He just shrugged and watch Dean and I. “Come on Dean just play. Stop trying to be an asshole. I bet Y/n doesn’t really care how much you show off.” Sam said.

Dean huffed and started to play. His board shoulders leaning over the pool table, lining the pool stick up with the white cue ball. I lifted the rack and stepped away from the pool table.

He struck the cue ball and game began. None of the colored balls or striped balls ended up ports at the corners of the pool table. Dean stepped back and let me have a go, figuring out what ball I wanted to take a hit at I lined my pool stick up with the white cue ball and strikes it.

The cue ball ended up hitting at least four balls two of which were colored balls landing into the corner spots. Sam sat and watched as Dean looked over at me and huffed once again in a sort of defeat. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Ya hear Dean.” Sam said.

Dean only shooed him off with a wave of his hand, and continued to play. This cycle went on for a bit. I’d play and get at least one ball in every time. I’d back up and let Dean take over the pool table, I’d go sit with Sam drink whatever beer I had left. And wait.

Wait for the grunt of disappoint when Dean didn’t any of his striped balls into the pockets, or a “Hell Yeah!” from Dean when he got a ball pocketed. Dean’s macho stance whenever he did hit a ball was ridiculous. “You know you honestly make him work for things.” Sam said commenting on how much Dean was really putting effort into the game.

“Come on now Sam. That’ I say waving my hand over the figure of Dean farther away ‘That right there is all Dean. I have nothing to do with any of that.” I said not really wanting to believe that I may have that great of effect on Dean like Sam says.

Dean is great at pool. Dean doesn’t lose bets either. Sam has watched his entire life Dean play pool and win every game. So maybe Sam sees something that I can’t see, or something neither Dean or I can see. Yeah, maybe Sam's right, maybe I have just the great of an effect on Dean Winchester.

We continued to play, each other us going back and forth from the pool table. Finally, the last-colored ball was sitting on the pool table, black eight ball was staring at me from across the table. taunting me to win the game, I lined my stick up with the cue ball and went through with a solid hit. It hit and within seconds the eight ball was in the pocket and I had won the game.

Meaning that Dean, oh poor Dean had lost the bet. Not a normal thing either for him to lose, but I keep thinking about what Sam said. I really hope that Sam was right for my own sake.

Sam looked over at me grinning at me. Dean was too preoccupied with a rather younger woman sitting not too far from the bar. He said before he left that he was getting more drinks and that there was no way I was going to be able to hit that last ball in.

All the happiness and excitement went out the window when I saw Dean flirting with her at the bar. His swagger and smirking face turned on to the max. It would have anyone weak to the knees.

Sam's eyes followed mine. Even Sam didn’t know that I wanted to be with Dean. Nobody knows, and I’d like to think I don’t want anyone to know. Because if I’m the only person then I don’t have to listen to Sam try and force to tell him, or Dean push me away.... I don’t want any of that.

Sam's eyes landed on his brother flirting his way into the woman’s pants. He looked over at me. I played a good game of pool, but I didn’t have a good poker face.

Sam got up from his bar stool at the table. He stood next to me and bumped my shoulder with his own, biting the inside of cheek I took a deep breath in and looked over at Sam. “Dean tends to be blind to the good things in front of him.” Sam said.

“It doesn’t matter. The happy moment is gone. He’s bored. So, I take the rest of my pride and leave with it. Because I’m sorry Sam, but Dean isn’t worth the heartbreak.” I said putting the pool stick down on the table and grabbing my jacket from the bar stool seat that I was sitting at.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and apologized for Dean. “I’m sorry for him. Drive back to the bunker, and I’ll get him home without extra company.” He said, before kissing my temple.

I smiled for a quick second at Sam before walking past Dean at the bar with the women straight out the door and to my car. I slammed my car door and rested my head against the steering wheel. Letting my body finally go through the emotions. Crying until my steering wheel was soaked.

Dean Pov:

When I finally looked back over at the pool table the first thing, I noticed was no Y/n. Where’d she go? I got up from the bar and walked back with the drink that I had ordered.

“Sam, where’s Y/n?” I asked, noticing the pool stick sitting on the table. Sam didn’t turn around at all, his eye very much focused on the sports game on the TV screen above. Setting the drinks on the table I asked again.

“Sam, where’s Y/N?” He turned and just shook his head. “Dude seriously, her jacket isn’t here and her pool stick is sitting on the table.” I said still very confused as to what was truly going on.

“Dude she left.” Sam said jugging the rest of his beer. “But we weren’t even done with the pool game.” I said a little huff falling out with my words. “Yeah, you were, Dean. Don’t play innocent like you weren’t feeling that girl up at the bar.... Oh, and by the way she won.” Sam said shortly.

I walked over to the pool table noticing all the colored balls were gone pocketed in the corners of the pool table. ‘Damn that girl beat me’ I thought. Wait I don’t understand why’d she leave just like that. I didn’t say anything to her.

“Oh my god Dean, I can hear you thinking. Let me guess you can’t figure out what you did wrong can you?” Sam said getting up and tucking his bar stool under the table. “Let’s go. I’m ready to go home.” Sam said. I really didn’t have any choice, so I chugging the rest of my beer, and throw some cash on the table before jogging to catch up to Sam.

Y/n Pov

I sat in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey. Sipping it ever so often, but hearing the bunker door open and then shut I decided to just chug the whiskey. It burnt at tad as it fell past my lips and down my throat.

In walked Sam and then shortly Dean walked in. Sam was silent grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and giving me a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen.

Again, it was silent. “So... Sam gave me your bet. I’ll do it. I just have a question’ Dean asked, I turned in the seat and faced him. Dean was leaning up against the kitchen island arms crossed his chest and his ankles crossed. ‘Why’d you leave the bar early.” He said finishing his sentence.

Bewildered by how Dean thought he had done nothing wrong I sighed heavily and went to say something it couldn’t. The words not wanting to fall out of my mouth. If they fell out then that would mean that they were real.

“If I dress you in that drag... I tell you afterwards. Deal?” I asked. Hoping Dean would let it go for tonight. I could have the last fun with Dean tomorrow and then I’ll tell him. “Okay fine. Tomorrow after you’re done.” He said pushing off the kitchen island and kissing me on my temple.

Leaving me alone once again in the vast space of the kitchen.

I won’t say that I didn’t have fun grabbing all the shit I needed for dressing Dean up in drag. Grabbing laced up combat heels, a black dress, and a shit ton of makeup. I wanted this to be fun. And how can I forget I grabbed a bleach blonde long wig to complete whatever look I was going for.

Shooting Dean, a message to come to library he was there quicker than you could say apple pie. It was awkward at first since everything that had happened last night, but he had gotten over that pretty quickly. Dean sat down in front of me.

“Are you ready?” I questioned him. “I lost a bet. I really can’t pull myself outta this one can I.” He spoke. “So, I’m going to take that as yes.” I spoke. After almost three hours of me trying to do Deans drag makeup. Constantly having to tell him to close his eyes, or whatever other instruction I gave him. I was done with that part.

He got up, “My face all the sudden feels every heavy.” He said gently patting his cheeks with his palm. “Don’t touch!” I said swatting his hand away. Dean raised his hands in defense.

“Here!" I said shoving the bag with everything except the wig to him. Go change, just don’t look at the make-up, yeah.” I spoke. sitting back down in the chair with a plop.

Dean getting dressed took another hour. He walked out the dress wasn’t tight around his figure and the lace stockings I had also bought he was wearing; the boots look good. He was little wobbly but otherwise he looked alright.

He walked over to me. Reminding me just how much taller he was then me now that he had a pair of heels on. “Put your head down.” I said quietly but he followed my instructions. When Dean flipped his head back over, he had a wig on. The extra weight throwing his head off for a long second.

As Dean tried to regain his head balance, I shot Sam a message asking him to come out the library and to have his camera ready. In a split-second Sam was there with his phone.

Dean stood-up his hands on his hips. “Yeah, laugh it up. I’m just going to say that I look like a bad ass bitch.” He said trying to balance on the heel on the combat boots I had grabbed.

“Can we take pictures? We promise we won't share them.” I asked, getting for a harsh ‘no’, but instead the answer was yes. Sam took a few and so did I. then Sam waved to us saying he had reading he had to catch up on.

“So... Now that I've done this, can you tell me why you left the bar early yesterday night.” Dean said reaching up to take off the wig. “Yeah, but first get out of the clothes because I bet, you’re uncomfortable and you come back here, and I’ll take all this shit off your face, agreed.” I spoke.

He gave me a sideways glance, “Okay, don’t go running off okay.” He said as he got up wobbling and holding onto objects as he walked away. Only a few minutes he came back wearing only a pair of sweats and a pair of Christmas slippers I had gotten both of the boys.

“Please take this stuff off my face, because to be honest with you I can feel it seeping into my skin.” Dean said. I laughed a little thinking about how realistic that explanation was to what it really felt like.

I got to work. Wiping Deans eye gently with the cotton pad. “Can you please tell me now?” Dean said eye closed. The feeling of his eye not being on me as these words passed my lips was actually more helpful.

“U mm... you left... and everything was going great, but... You... and then” I said skipping over words and frustrating myself. Dean reached out placing his hand on my wrist. “Y/n just slow down. One step at a time.” He spoke.

Taking a deep breath in, I started again. “So, everything was going well, you were being your cocky self which doesn’t bother me. And then all the sudden it seemed like you got bored of us... actually, more like you got bored of me and the game. Like whenever it just you and me. Some younger chick takes your attention.” I said, grabbing a new cotton pad and starting to clean Deans other eye.

You’ve got to get the rest of your thought-out Y/n.

“Dean I would do anything for you. I hope you know that. Literally anything I’d die for you to be able to save the world. But I don't much in return. I ask for you spend some of your precious time with you. I just want your attention. I’ll do anything for you to just want me.” I spoke

I gasped and covered my mouth. Oops that part wasn’t supposed to come out. I finished in eyes. He opened them and grabbed my wrist before I could grab another cotton pad.

“Do you really mean everything you just said.” He asked, I kept my eyes the floor suddenly finding that much more interesting than Dean’s emerald green eyes. Or his amazing freckles. I felt a touch of Deans hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Did you mean it Y/n?” Dean asked again a sterner tone falling into the words. “Yes, Dean.” I said a frown falling onto my features. So many thoughts running through my head but none of them were the next things that Dean said to me.

“Glad, because I want you too.” He spoke. Thank god Dean finger was still under my chin because if not my jaw would have landed on the floor between our legs. “So, the flirting?” I asked in a hushed voice. Not trusting my own words at current moment.

Dean face contorted and he took a moment to think. “Those girls... they were the only way I thought I could get over you, but I realize now that I’m a complete and utter asshole. A blind asshole. I’m sorry Y/n.” Dean said

His hand migrating to my cheek and his thumb rubbing right under my eye in a comforting way. I leaned into the touch. “You are an asshole. Just neither of us knew what the other was thinking.” I said touching out forehead together.

“Can you get the rest of this makeup off, please, Y/n?” Dean asked. I rolled my eyes and pulled away from his forehead.” Way to ruin the moment Winchester.” I said before I started cleaning up the rest of Deans face.

‘Yeah, I know, but I really wanted to kiss you properly without any makeup on.” He said smashing his lips into mine, and holding down tight onto my waist and forearm. When he pulled away needing air he asked “We’re both idiots, but can we be idiots together?” I smiled and shrugged my shoulder before lunging in for another Dean Winchester kiss.

“Wait, you don’t care that I don’t look like the other girls the you flirt with?” I asked shyness overcoming me. My grasp on the idea that Dean would even want me was eating away at my brain. Giving me a very perplexed look, and scrunching his eyebrows.

“Look I know that it looks like I have a type.” Dean said grabbing into one of my thighs. “But, that’s a different Dean, that’s hopefully in the past. I know that I have a track record for only bring home blonde skinny women, but I... I want you and your body. I want all your thick parts’ he said squeezing my thigh. ‘I want your crazy bed head in the morning. I want you to continue trying to beat me at pool, I want you to be with me. I want so many things, but all of them are because of you.” Dean said pausing to let me take in his words. “I want whatever you want to give me. I don’t care what your body looks like because that’s not what made me attracted to you doll. Your heart, mind, and soul are what made me want you. I hope that’s okay” He said.

I smiling and sniffed my nose trying to stop the cascade of tears that was about to break. “Yeah, that’s okay Dean.” I said grasping Deans strong body for a hug.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years ago

Text

“It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you!”

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 3060

Warning: My bad writing I guess

Prompt 13, “It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you!”

A/N: Van my darling, my best gal. I hope you enjoy this. I may have been inspired by your baking attempts with this prompt ngl x

Thank you to @canarypoint again you legend x

Also Tumblr really didn’t like me uploading this so I’m sorry if it’s all bunched together.

Tags: @missmonsters2

“It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you”

"Okay, I went to five different stores, nearly killed a guy and almost lost the checklist. However, I managed to find everything you needed to make that dish, Myshka" Nat says, rushing through the kitchen; both hands full of bags filled with ingredients. I wipe the bead of sweat from between my brow and sigh in relief, before leaning towards her and planting a quick kiss to her cheek.

"You are the best assassin and friend a girl could ask for" Nat fakes disgust as she wipes at her cheek.

"Yeah, yeah if I didn't like the idea of you trying to woo her so much. You'd be joining the guy at the store" she grumbles while helping me remove all the ingredients from the bags. We both make quick work at preparing the famous Chicken Paprikash dish and with Nat's amazing abilities at being able to read almost every language it almost seemed effortless.

If we both weren't so bad at cooking.

I keep an eye on the time, anticipating her arrival home. Wanda, Steve, Bucky and Sam had been sent on an undercover mission almost two weeks ago, the whole thing had been kept under the radar with only a few of us in the know.

"You think we have enough time, Nat?"

"Of course, Sam messaged me about half an hour ago. They'll be back in 2 hours that gives us plenty of time to cook this dish and help build up your courage to finally confess your undying love for our, Malen'kaya Ved'ma (little witch). Now stop pacing around, you're making me dizzy"

Since joining the Avengers over a year ago, I've gotten to know each of them very well, already knowing Natasha and Clint from our Shield days it was an easy transition into the great band of supers, that was until I met Wanda Maximoff. Her sparkling hazel eyes and long chestnut hair framing her beautiful face with that shy smile had me a goner from the moment I laid my eyes on her. After a few weeks of being with the team every day for training and team-bonding sessions, the more I realised how much fun and carefree Wanda could be. After speaking to Clint one drunken night about our blossoming friendship outside of the team buildings and training I was dumbfounded by how shocked he was to hear about that side of Wanda which they all only catch small glimpses off. According to Clint after losing her brother she was an empty shell of herself just moving through life as if it was a chore and not a gift to walk this earth.

I guess she just needed a reason to live again.

After that revelation I continued to spend time with her alone, I asked more about her and her life in Sokovia, her face lighting up talking about her family and all the traditions they would follow each year even if her and Pietro weren't overly fond of them. Some nights there were tears as she spoke fondly of her brother and her parents no matter how briefly they were mentioned. She would laugh at all the stories I would tell her about our shield adventures both on mission and around the base, her mouth wide and eyes bright with mischief as I relay the story about how me and Nat unscrewed the screws from one of the vents just enough for Clint to fall through right above Fury's office while he was in a meeting with the council. Since she's been away and radio silent, I've never felt so lost even with Natasha around trying her best to cheer me up and letting me win more sparring matches than ever before.

I take a deep breath in and settle my nerves before helping Nat continue to season the chicken.

"Okay so it says that we have to boil the rice in a non-stick pan? How do we tell the difference?" I look at her dumbfounded.

"For someone who's supposed to be the world’s most smartest, most deadliest assassin you sure are dumb" I state, I can feel her eyes burning into me. If looks could kill...

"Do you want my help or not?"

"No, no I need your help. Thank you Natalia" I say sweetly, smiling innocently at her. She rolls her eyes and continues with the rice.

Once everything is in the cooker and pan, we retreat to the kitchen island, a bottle of beer in hand as we talk about anything and everything. After some time had passed, I'm interrupted by Nat's hand indicating for me to stop talking as she sniffs at the air.

"What is that god awful smell?"

My eyes widen in fear as I start to notice the smoke coming from the pan. I race to grab the fire extinguisher while Nat tries desperately to turn everything off and open the kitchen window. I quickly release the white foam over the pan cutting the small fire off, as I step back my foot slips slightly on the wet floor, sending me crashing to the floor but not before I manage to hit Nat square in the face with the foam. I groan slightly at my now bruised ass and tenderly sit up, leaning against the counter behind me.We both sit in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter, Nat joining me on the floor, so we're shoulder to shoulder.

"Let's agree to never cook again".

"Agreed"

"God damn it, look at my shirt it’s ruined! I can't confess anything to her looking like this! She'd think I'm crazy!" I quickly unbuttoned my shirt revealing a thin, white tank top underneath.

"What the hell happened here?" The most angelic voice exclaims by the kitchen doorway, our eyes widen as we both come to the same conclusion.

She's back. Early.

I quickly scramble to my feet and try to adjust myself accordingly before sending her a beaming smile which quickly turns in a worrying frown after taking in her tired complexion, her hazel eyes no longer holding that bright twinkle whenever she smiles. A large cut visible across her right eyebrow and Sam standing behind her not looking any better.

"Oh my god, Wanda!" I race forward and delicately place my hands on either side of her face, my eyes scanning every inch of skin. She winces slightly before grasping my forearms gently and removing them away from her face.

"Oh Sam, how are you? You want me to help clean up that cut, maybe get you snack" I hear Sam mutter behind us rhetorically.I roll my eyes in good nature as Nat laughs behind me.

"I'm okay, Lumina mea (my light). You should see the other guy" she attempts a small grin before casting her eyes over to the mess that is the kitchen and Nat quietly trying to salvage the meal, with no real joy. I blush at hearing her native tongue slip through at the end of her sentence even if I don't understand the meaning behind the saying.

"Again, I'll ask, what the hell happened in here and why can I smell paprika?" Her cute button nose scrunches adorably as she takes in my crumbled-up shirt and Nat's wet face.

"Oh, well we uh.. decided to try and cook a meal for you guys. We know the mission was rough and wanted to surprise you all, we kind of got carried away" I grimace at my cowardly response, I can feel the disappointment in waves from Natasha's direction.

Okay so I'm not ready to come out with it yet, sue me.

"Oh, you could have waited until I got back and asked me to help. You know how much I love to make paprikash"I can see the hurt in her eyes even though she tries to brush it off with a small smile. She knows what a bad cook Nat is and how much she loves cooking for you both after a rough mission.

Great, you've also offended her.

Good going Y/N.

There's an awkward silence between the four of us before Wanda clears her throat and takes a step back towards the entrance way.

"I'm gonna go and get cleaned up, I'll see you both at the party tonight, yes?" She addressed us both, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. I blush slightly at the thought of her wanting my company.

Please she was addressing you both Y/N, as if you would ever stand a chance.

"Of course, Wanda, we wouldn't miss it" Nat answers for us as I continue to stare at her. I quickly avert my eyes and nod in acknowledgement.

"We'll be there"

Once she leaves a dry towel hits me square in the chest, I instantly catch it while looking up in the direction of the thrower.

"Come on lover girl, let's clean this mess up and order a take away. I'm starving. Also, Sam "we'll be there in two hours" can you not map out a timescale"

"Listen I lost a lot of blood tryna get out of that place, forgive me please" he grumbles jokingly as he sulks out of the room, mumbling about never getting any attention for how badass he is.

***

A few hours pass by and before I know it, I'm making the final touches to my makeup. A loud knock echoes in the room before Nat swings it wide open and struts in looking like a red-headed goddess. Her dark green off the shoulder dress clinging to her in all the right places. With one more stroke of my mascara brush I turn and face my best friend with a grin.

"You ready?"

"If you need me tonight, I'll be behind the bar, slowly drinking my boredom away" "Hey, am I such bad company?!"

"Well youuuu, missy is going to charm your way into Maximoff’s pants. Therefore, you will be too busy to entertain me tonight, Myshka"

"Nat, I don't think tonight is the right time, you saw how she looked in the kitchen today. She doesn't need me pestering her all night"

"Actually, it's the perfect time! Go an' comfort her and if you manage to slip in that you love her then great!" I roll my eyes in good nature before making my way to my door.

"Come on, Romanoff. I need a drink"

***

The party is too loud and overly crowded with people none of us really know with drinks flowing around every part of the room.

"Why does he always feel the need to throw a party every time we finish a mission?"

"Would he be Tony if he didn't? You gotta give him credit though this party is insane" Nat murmurs beside me, making me chuckle in agreement.

My eyes are already scanning for the beautiful brunette avenger. Nat notices me searching and shoves me forward slightly.

"Go find her, I'll be by the bar" with one last shove, I'm left by myself looking out into the crowd.

My eyes finally land on the brown-haired beauty, I bite my lip as I take in her form. A long black flowy dress falls just past her knees with the straps of the dress sitting comfortably just off the shoulder, giving me a great view of her cleavage. Her hair hangs curled and loose over her shoulders, her red lipstick perfectly in place.

God she's beautiful.

As I continue to take her in, I notice an unfamiliar arm resting around her waist. I look up to identify the persons whose arm it is and my heart stops as I witness this man lean his mouth to her ear and whisper some bullshit that makes her laugh out, he pulls back clearly satisfied with the response he got from her. As if sensing a presence her eyes turn and rest upon me, a soft smile forming on those red lips. I quickly drop my gaze and turn away from her, heading straight to the bar; trying hard to blend into the crowd.

"Why the sour face?" Nat questions as she instantly hands me a bottle from behind the bar.

"You didn't tell me she was seeing someone" I sulk to her before taking a big gulp from the bottle, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. Nat's eyebrows pinch together as if confused by my statement. She leans forward slightly over the bar to peer over my shoulder to take a good look at Wanda and the mystery man.

"Who? Matthews? Please that guy wishes he could have her. She's just being polite Y/N" Nat tries to reassure me, but I can't seem to remove the image out of my head.

"It's not like I stood a chance anyway" I grumble grabbing the vodka shot from Nats hand and letting the burning liquid flow down my throat. After a few hours of drinking with Nat; who’s now joined me on the other side of the bar, I start to feel the effects of the alcohol hit me as I laugh out loud from the stupid stories Nat seems to be sharing. Any thoughts of Wanda and her mystery guy fading into the background of my mind.

Or that's what I keep telling myself.

In my daze, I quickly lose my balance on the bar stool but before I could hit the floor, I feel a familiar strong arm wrap itself around me, steadying me on the stool.

"Careful Myshka, you'll end up on your ass" Nat teases as I start to lean heavily against her, sleep fighting to take over.

"Also, just to let you know Maximoff has been looking over here all night and throwing daggers at me, similar to the one she's throwing right now" Nat says clearly amused at the concept. She leans herself further towards me and traces her finger up and down my arm slightly, my eyes widen in surprise before she leans in and whispers:

"Just got with it"

Before I have a chance to question her, I feel a warm body pressed into my back. I gasp slightly at the faint smell of cherries and forest, the smell consuming my senses. I close my eyes briefly knowing that smell all too well. Her lips brush slightly against my ear, making me shiver.

"Can I talk to you in private, Y/N" I barely have time to nod before her arm is wrapping tightly around me and escorting away from Natasha and out of the room. Once we are alone, she releases her hold on me and starts to pace in front of me, her dress sway slightly with each turn. I stand watching her waiting for her to gather her thoughts, I bite my lip anxiously debating whether to make the first move. She stops suddenly and takes a deep breath in before releasing it into the open air and turning to look at me with a heartbroken expression.

"You've been avoiding me all night" I gape at her forwardness before replying defensively:

"No, I haven't, maybe you've been a little preoccupied with prince charming on steroids in there to notice me at all!" She frowns slightly, almost bashfully.

"You mean Matthews? Y/N that guy has a brain of a mouse. I was simply being polite. Anyway, you are one to talk! Are you and Nat ever going to go public because the way shes’s being all handsy with you tonight, you may as well let everyone know!" Now it's my turn to gape at her in shock becoming slightly annoyed.

I take a step towards her slightly wanting to keep her full attention on me as I feel the word vomit slowly creeping its way up my throat.

"Are you being serious right now?! Me and Nat are best friends that's never even been a thought! Are you so blind to see Wanda?! You think I'd go and pick up your favourite flowers every Thursday even though they make my nose itch and makes me sneeze because I thought they'd brighten up your bedroom? You have plants covering every window sill! You think I'd attempt to cook a dish that I can barely understand let alone cook and make a complete mess of it for just anyone?! Wanda you are always in my thoughts every day, the past two weeks have been torturing for me wondering when you'd be home. I missed you all the damn time! I missed our nights in where it was just the two of us watching crap reality television because even though we make fun of it we both secretly love the drama" She stares at me in shock, her lip twitching into a smile ever so slightly at the last part of my confession.

Her silence clearly an invitation for me to continue:

"But you really want to know what I missed about those nights while you've been gone. I missed watching your beautiful face scrunch up slightly as you slowly doze off with your head falling onto my shoulder. I would stay sitting in that upright position for hours if it meant keeping you like that, close to me. Wanda there could never be a me and Nat... you wanna know why? It's you, you idiot. I'm in love with you!"

Her emerald green eyes drop to the floor, suddenly finding it very interesting before a wide smile settles on her red lips and her eyes slowly make their way to meeting mine.

“You love me?”

“Yes I love you, you idiot” I whisper, shuffling slightly feeling uncomfortable and exposed with my feelings.

Before I can turn and hide away from my embarrassing confession, I feel warm, soft lips press hard against my own, the taste of vanilla chapstick lingers on my lips as I brush my tongue gently against her bottom lip making her gasp, granting me access. Our tongues clash, both fighting for dominance before pulling away slightly, my teeth catching her bottom lip gently and tugging at the soft skin softly before letting go with a small pop.

"If I'm an idiot, I'll be an idiot who’s in love with you too" she whispers breathlessly into the open air between us, her forehead resting gently against my own.

I smile.

#wanda maximoff x female!reader #my prompts #prompt request #wanda maxim #wanda #fluff #i hope it's good

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glenncoco4 · 3 years ago

Text

You Can’t Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 6

••••

The sunlight streams in from the window, illuminating the two bodies buried underneath the fluffy white comforter. He slowly feels consciousness pull him into reality and what a spectacular reality it is. Peering down his body, the form of his beautiful girlfriend as she slowly startles awake brings a smile to his face. “Good morning, sunshine.”

She hums in appreciation as his lips touch the crown of her head and his fingers delicately dance up and down her spine, bringing a welcomed shiver through her body. “Mmmm. Am I dreaming?”

“No. Definitely not dreaming.”

“You know the last time I woke up after we made love, I was alone.”

“I’m sorry.”

She brushes off his apology, tilting her head back, the brunette brings her eyes to his. It’s been 4 months of her constantly thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t left, and she always comes to the same conclusion. “At first I was kinda mad, but then I realized that if we had woken up together it might’ve been a little awkward or I may have panicked like I tend to do.”

“How do you mean?”

Her head finds his pillow as she burrows her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent that is so uniquely him. “Well, we never really talked about our feelings before we jumped into bed together. I mean we loved each other of course but it wasn’t verbalized that we were head over hills in love.”

His silence startles her and she begrudgingly props herself up on his chest only to be met with a goofy grin playing at his lips. “What?”

“I love you.”

God those words coming from his lips is something she never let herself think about, but now its all she can think about. The feel of his touch, his smile...he’s everything. Throwing her leg over his waist, her heat meets his already hardening member, and oh how she loves everything about this new part of their relationship. “I love you, too, but I can probably show you better than I can tell you.” Leaning down, she can’t help but mirror his smile with one of her own as her lips meet his.

••••

After a very productive morning in bed the pair make their way into the Mission for the first time as partners. Kensi reached her desk, toss a deck of cards into his hands. “I need you to quiz me.”

“For?”

“I have lunch with Anna today.”

“I can’t believe she thinks you’re a curator.”

“What about you? She thinks you’re that guy from Fired Up.”

“I do fit the part, baby.”

They both freeze as the term of endearment leaves his lips. It’s weird but a good weird.

At the sound of their colleagues walking into the bullpen their smiles quickly vanish as Deeks lifts up the first card.

“Oh, uh, uh, Matisse?”

“Nope. Munch.”

He holds up the next.

“Van Gogh?”

“Cezanne.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Seriously, Kens, why are you doing this?”

Before she can answer, Sam walks in, observing the pair. “Hazing the new guy or is he hazing you?”

“Haze me, Kens, please?” The shaggy blonde holds up the next card for his girlfriend, knowing there’s no way she’ll get this one.

“Seurat.” She answers.

The ex-Navy SEAL gets a glimpse of the card, instantly knowing the right answer. “Monet.”

“Bing. Bing. Bing. Sam proceeds to the bonus round and Kensi wins the consolation prize otherwise known as a steaming bucket of fail.” His words may sting but the wink he sends her lets her know that he’s just playing his part in their own little op.

They decided it could be fun deceiving their coworkers about their newly defined relationship. And of course the competitiveness inside them lit up at the idea of a bet as to who would discover what was really going on between them first.

The detective was a bit surprised that his partner chose Eric, he on the other hand chose Callen. Even though he’s barely had a conversation with the man there was something about his quite and questioning demeanor that told him the team leader would find them out first.

••••

As the day progresses the best friends are sent to the house that belongs to Vakar’s ex-wife. This is sort of their first test as a pair of undercover operators. It’s both exciting and frightening all at the same time. Experiencing something new with the most important person in your world is one thing but experiencing two new changes might be a challenge. A challenge that they’re both ready to face head on.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, the pair make their way towards the house as the blaring alarm sounds over and over again. “What do you know about alarms?”

“Do you not remember my stint with Robbery Division?”

“Right, it was around the same time I was taking the Counter Surveillance course at Quantico.”

“You mean the time you were always one upping me during our daily phone calls?”

She taps her knuckles on the wood frame door before turning to her boyfriend, studying the look in his eyes. “I’m not a one upper.”

“Not normally, but some how just with me.”

“Well I vaguely remember you one upping me this morning.”

His heart flutters as the spark shines in her mismatched orbs. The past 36 hours has been like a whole new experience with her in so many beautifully amazing ways. “Oh, touché.”

••••

As they step inside his apartment at the end of a long first day, the words she had spoken to Emma a few hours ago plays back in her mind. If this man loves you as much as you love him, its not gonna matter. It’ll bring you closer. She’s put off telling him for long enough and now that they’re together, she doesn’t want to keep anything from. Especially this. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He takes hold of her hand, pulling her body into his before pressing a hungry kiss to her soft lips. A kiss that he’s been craving all day. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“What? No, never!” She quickly pulls back, shaking her head profusely.

“Good to know.”

The cocky grin thats curls at his lips makes her legs turn to jelly. Luckily his arms are wrapped around her waist, giving her much needed support. Taking a deep breath, she searches his eyes hoping that what she’s about to tell him won’t make him shut down.

He watches as her beautiful mismatched orbs swim with what he thinks is turmoil. There’s not a doubt in his mind that whatever she has to say isn’t something they can’t work through. He leans forward, placing his lips on hers reassuring her once more. “Kens, what is it?”

“It’s about Jack.”

His brow furrows in confusion. That is definitely the furthest thing he thought they would be talking about tonight. “What about him?”

“When he left...”

“Hey, look at me.” His finger finds the underside of her jaw, tilting her head up. Cerulean blues conveying all the love he has for her with one look. “I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

A small smile spread across her face at his words because in their 20 years of friendship he’s never once lied to her. “I told you that he left because of his PTSD.”

“Yeah.”

“But that’s not the only reason he left.”

“Okay?”

“I guess I didn’t realize or want to truly believe what he was talking about until recently...Marty, he left because of you.”

“Me?”

She nods as a soft teary-eyed smile crosses her lips. Her thumbs finding the small of his back, nervously running back and forth across his sun kissed skin. “Yeah, he uh...right before he left, he told me all these things about how he always felt like he was coming in second place to you. He told me that I light up when you walk into the room and how he wishes that I’d look at him even a fraction of the way I look at you. The last thing he said to me was that I was blind not to see how in love I was with you and how you felt the same.”

His face quickly falls as he pulls back from their embrace, making her heart rate speed up. She wasn’t technically lying when she told him about Jack but she did omit a huge part that affected him as well.

As he walk over to the couch a heavy sigh leaves his lips. He sits down, his face immediately finding the palm of his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.

Trying to remember what he said a few minutes ago about nothing changing his mind about how much he loves her, she can’t help but nervously bite her bottom lip as she finds her place next to him on the couch. “Will you please say something?”

“Jessica.”

“What?”

“The morning Jack left and you called me, I dropped everything to take care of you. After about a month, she...she uh-came to me and said that I needed to stop lying to myself.”

“Lying to yourself about what?”

“About how I feel about you.” He finally lets himself look at her, unable to get the image of them being together sooner and happier out of his head.

She always had the feeling that the redhead saw through her some how. They got along great, but something had changed in their interactions the last few weeks of her and Marty’s relationship. Now she knows what it was. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“When you said she left because you two were in different places you meant-“

“That she was in love with me, but I was clearly in love with you.” He nods, as the corner of his lips lift into a smile.

Her brow furrows, wondering what he was thinking or why he didn’t act on his feelings. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He hits her with the same question, knowing that they more than likely have the same answer.

She willingly goes with him as he pulls them back against the couch. Immediately curling into his body for comfort, her legs find their way across his lap and its in that moment that she realizes how seamlessly they’ve fallen into craving each other’s touch all the time. “We really are quiet the pair, aren’t we.”

“That we are.”

It’s few minutes as they sit there in silence before she flashes back to that night. “Wait a second. You came over that night you broke up.”

“I did.”

Her brow furrows, wondering why he wouldn’t want to be alone after ending a year long relationship.

“After Jessica told me that I need to wake up, you called.”

“And you answered.”

A look crosses his face as if shocked that she would think he wouldn’t drop everything for her, no matter what it may be. “Of course I did.”

Tilting her head back, she looks up into his cerulean blues, her fingernails finding the scruff of his jaw. “Did we really miss out on 6 years together?”

They could dwell on what could’ve been but there’s no use in wasting any more of their time on it when they’re together, here and now. He shakes his head, trying to find the right words to say to her. “No, not really. I mean you’ve been the most important thing in my life, that never changed. The only thing’s that’s different now is, I can do this.” His lips find the crook of her neck, working their way towards the lobe of her ear. “And this.” He receives an approving moan as his hand works its way underneath the hem of her shirt and towards her breast.

Her eyes drift close as his lips work their magic and send her body humming with excitement. “Keep talking.”

He suddenly stops his ministrations and briefly pulls back, earning a disapproving moan from his girl.

Her eyes fly open, and is immediately met with a cocky grin. “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You just told me to keep talking. You’re definitely in love with me.”

“Marty.”

“Yeah?”

She shakes her head as her fingers curl around his golden locks, pulling him towards her. “Shut up.”

“And there she is.” His lips find hers as they fall against the couch, skin to skin, they become closer in more ways than one.

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #AU #Kensi x Deeks #You Can Count On Me #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

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dontcare77ghj · 5 years ago

Text

Therapy

Natasha x reader x Steve x Sam x Bucky

Sam claimed he was the only normal person on the team. And because of this, he was the only normal person in your relationship.

Sam believed he was the only person in your relationship, and on the team, who was mentally stable and happy. And apparently those two things translated to being normal. Everyone else, in his words, needed to speak more to the team’s therapist.

To be fair he wasn’t entirely incorrect. Especially when it came to your relationship. Out of the five of you, Sam was definitely the one who was happy with life and excited most days.

The rest of you, well, it really depended on the day.

The four of you had been through a lot of shit in your lives. As a result, you all had your own issues that shined through most days.

Before your relationship and before Sam, the four of you dealt with your issues in the unhealthiest ways. But since the five of you had gotten together and become very serious, Sam had taken it upon himself to break those tendencies and help the four of you.

There were a lot of things you, Natasha, Bucky and Steve agreed upon and one of them; none of you deserved Sam.

Normally, Bucky had everything under control. It had taken him a long time, and a lot of help, to regain his own identity after being in HYDRA’s control for decades. Bucky had worked hard to get where he was today, but despite his hard work Bucky still had set backs.

Two weeks ago; Bucky, Sam, Wanda and Clint had fought their way into a HYDRA base. According to Sam it had been easy to get in and should have known something was wrong.

The four had been swarmed by agents and while the four were fighting for their lives, an intercom had come to life and suddenly the words that once trapped Bucky as the Winter Soldier began playing over it.

It had only gotten three words in before Wanda managed to take it out, but the intention had rocked Bucky to the core.

Now two weeks later, Bucky had been visibly depressed. He had not gone on a mission since, he had refused to speak of the incident and he had barely wanted to be around any of you. He rarely spoke and it was almost a miracle when he ate a piece of cold, dry, toast.

All of you had tried your best to talk to the man, to coax him out of his fear and his shell, but every attempt seemed to be for naught.

Bucky was staying on the couch in the study, he hadn’t slept in the bed the five of you once shared for twelve days.

“Hon, I made breakfast.” You murmured, standing in the doorway. “You want to come join me and Sammy?”

The man simply remained staring blankly at the wall.

“Natty and Stevie went out for a meeting with Wanda but they said they’d be back for lunch. Maybe you could come out and join us for lunch instead?” You suggested.

He did not even blink as he continued staring at the beige wall.

“Okay, if you change your mind, we’ll be in the kitchen.” You said before turning. “You know we all love you, Buck.” You added over your shoulder before moving into the kitchen.

“Anything?” Sam asked, placing mugs of coffee on the table.

“No.” You shook your head and sunk heavily into the chair. “Did you expect anything different?”

“I’m going to give it a try.” Sam said as you quickly chugged half your coffee. “He might just need a push.”

“He might.” You agreed, standing and following behind the man with your coffee in hand. You stayed behind in the doorway as you watched Sam kneel in front of the brunette.

“Buck, it’s time to get up. You need to shower, you need to eat and you need to stop sleeping on this couch.” Sam said, taking Bucky’s hand in his. Bucky attempted to turn away but Sam rolled him back over. “No, you’re not going to keep shutting his out. You’re hurting yourself and you’re hurting us too.”

“I’m going to end up doing that anyway.” Bucky mumbled. “It’s what they made me.”

“You are not that person.” Sam denied him firmly. “You are James Barnes. You are ours not theirs and I am not letting them control you like this anymore. If you stay on this couch you are letting them win. Get your ass off this couch and decide, breakfast or shower first?”

You held your breath as you watched the two. Bucky stared blankly into Sam’s hard gaze for a minute. For a minute you were sure Sam’s attempt had failed. But when Bucky slowly shifted himself into an upward position, you felt a grin plaster itself to your face.

“Breakfast or shower?” Sam repeated.

“Shower.” Bucky mumbled, pushing his greasy hair out of his face.

“Do you want us to join you?” Sam asked, standing and motioning for you to stand by him.

“I’ll meet you for breakfast.” Bucky promised.

“Twenty minutes and I’ll be checking if you’re still alive.” Sam said, causing Bucky to smile a tiny smile. Bucky nodded before moving out of the room.

“You’re really good at that.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to Sam’s cheek.

“You, Nat and Steve are going to help me when I tell him to speak to the therapist.” Sam groaned. “How did the four of you survive without me?”

“Shear dumb luck.” You grinned.

Natasha and Steve arrived home two hours later and instantly smiled as they faced the three of you sitting at the table. Bucky was sat in Sam’s lap with his legs in your lap.

Neither of them commented on Bucky’s sudden reappearance but happily sat and joined you all for lunch. Later you would all have to have a conversation with the long-haired brunette, but for now Sam had done enough to help the man slowly break his shell.

Non-reader POV

Natasha was very good at making the team think she was okay. Natasha was calm cool and did what she needed to do to keep everyone alive and to get the job done. To the team, Natasha was great.

The rest of you knew the reality. Natasha was all those things and more, during the day. Come night Natasha became paranoid. Come night, the years of espionage and her own survival instincts kicked in and she was in high gear.

A bare minimum of three times a night Natasha would crawl out of bed to ensure the doors were locked, the windows were secured and there was absolutely no way anyone would be able to get in.

Though everyone in the relationship knew Natasha was paranoid only Y/N and Bucky knew the extent of her paranoia. Steve and Sam had no idea that Natasha checked these things at least three times.

Two years into the relationship, Natasha was still continuing her nightly routine. It was two in the morning and she had already checked three times but she felt compelled to check again right then. With skill that one acquired after years of training, Natasha moved out of bed, barely moving the blankets and not moving the bed in the slightest.

Natasha’s first stop was the windows. Once again, they were still tightly locked and or secured. Next, she moved onto the doors. She had asked F.R.I.D.A.Y long ago to lock the elevator doors once they retired for the night. And finally, Natasha stealthily waked through the floor, checking every room and every nook and cranny for any intruders.

Natasha nodded to herself as she checked the last room. As her final checks were complete, Natasha made her way back to the bedroom she shared only to stop in the living room.

“Didn’t think you’d notice me.” Sam commented from his seat on the couch.

“I notice everything. It’s my job.” Natasha said, crossing her arms.

“You didn’t notice I was awake.” He smirked. It was not often someone snuck something past the Russian.

“I was a bit preoccupied.” She admitted, taking a seat on the same couch.

“Do you want to tell me why you’ve left the bed four times? What I just watched?” Sam asked, shuffling closer to one of his girlfriends.

“That is me making sure, no-one is going to kill any of us.” Natasha sighed.

“How often do you do this?” Sam questioned her, throwing his arm over her shoulders.

“Every night.” She said simply.

“And how often a night?”

“At least three times.”

“That’s not good for you, Nat. Why have I never known about this?” He groaned.

“If it makes you feel any better, Steve didn’t know either.” She smirked.

“That doesn’t really make me feel that much better.” Sam shook his head. “Do I get to hear your reasoning?”

“You know how I was raised. Everyone was an enemy and if I got close to anyone death followed. I remember every dorm mate I killed by name. I remember everything I did in that hell hole. And as much I try to push it down, I remember my graduation. I am forced to live with what they stole from me every day of my life.That place took everything from me but I got out. And now I have more than I ever did. I have friends, a family and I have the four of you.” She smiled, taking Sam’s hand.

“So why the doors?” Sam asked, squeezing her hand tightly.

“I have more than I ever did. Everything I used to have, was taken from me, even the things I did not yet have. I’m afraid that they’re going to find me and they’re going to keep taking.” She admitted, staring at the ground.

“Nat, no-ones ever going to hurt you again.” Sam said.

“I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about all of you.” Natasha told him.

“No-one is going to touch any of us. We are safe and so are you.” He said, pulling her into his side and kissing her head. “It’s time for you to sleep. You can’t protect anyone, yourself included, when you’re running on no sleep.”

With no more coaxing needed, Sam easily led Natasha back to bed. As she laid on his chest and he ran his fingers through her hair Sam only had one thought.

He’d need to talk to her more in the morning.

Steve had always had issues with himself. He had never liked himself before the serum. After the serum, there had been a period when he thought he was finally happy with himself.

He finally had what he thought he wanted. He was finally more than that scrawny kid from Brooklyn that got his ass kicked every other week. He was Captain America.

But being Captain America came with more weight on his shoulders than being Steve Rogers ever did. Now, all eyes were on him. Any mistake he made now had consequences larger than Steve ever had to face.

The world weighed heavy on Steve’s new shoulders. And suddenly the resentment he felt to his old self was now pushed onto his new form. After all Steve had not changed inside, the problems he had with himself still ruled him and seemed to have grown with Steve’s transformation.

Everything was now his fault.

The mission had gone so wrong. Nothing had happened according to plan and so many had been injured or killed. His own partners had been injured, and it was Steve’s fault.

“That’s his fifth one.” Natasha commented, watching as Steve took the broken bag and replaced it. “Tony’s going to kill him.”

“I’ll handle Tony.” Y/N assured her, leaning heavily on her crutches. It was Y/N and Sam that found themselves injured during this mission. Bucky would have been had he not been a super soldier and Natasha had managed to dodge the fall out.

Y/N had ended up with a broken leg and Sam’s arm would be in a cast for longer than he agreed.

“He hasn’t even noticed we’re here.” Bucky grumbled, watching the blonde in concern.

“I’ll talk to him. You three head up to our room, I’ll bring our boy.” Sam promised.

“Are you sure?” Natasha raised her brow. “We could stay, offer moral support.” She suggested.

“No, I got this.” Sam smiled, taking her hand in his good one and squeezing it. “Go, I’ll bring him back.”

“Love you Sammy.” Y/N leaned forward and kissed the man.

“Love you too.” He smiled. Bucky and Natasha repeated these actions before the three left, Natasha and Bucky helping Y/N.

Sam slowly walked over to the blonde, shaking his head as another bag broke.

“Tony’s going to start charging you for them soon.” Sam spoke loudly.

“So he should. I break enough of them.” Steve laughed dryly. “When did you get out of the infirmary?”

“About an hour before Y/N did.” Sam shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Which you would have known if you weren’t down here breaking punching bags.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve said, looking at Sam before turning back to the bags.

“No you don’t get to do that.” Sam tutted, stopping the man with a hand to the shoulder. “You don’t get to walk away because you’re blaming yourself for me and Y/N being hurt. That’s not how this works.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Steve denied, refusing to look at the man.

“Then what are you doing? Because since we got hurt you’ve looked at us once and the only thing we saw was you blaming yourself.”

“Who else is there to blame, Sam? I was in charge of this mission. I made the plans and I didn’t account for anything that happened today. I am the reason the two of you got hurt.”

“No we got hurt because of fucking HYDRA. We got hurt because we didn’t move in time. None of that is your fault.”

“I am Captain America, I’m supposed to keep you safe.” Steve yelled, moving over to the wall and punching it. “What is the point of being like this, if I can’t protect those I love?” Steve asked, sliding down the wall.

“Captain America may want to keep us safe, but we don’t need to rely on Captain America. We are in this relationship for Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers has kept us safe every day since we’ve met him and we love him. Captain America is a part of Steve Rogers. A part of you and we love that part as much as we do the rest of you but it is not your place to take the blame for things like this.” Sam said, sitting beside him.

“It feels like it should be.” Steve sighed, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder.

“There are five of us in this relationship. The world is not only on your shoulders. I think tomorrow we need to think about you seeing the teams therapist about this hero complex of yours.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Sam agreed. The two sat for several more minutes before Sam stood. “Come on, we have three people waiting upstairs for us. And we have to figure out how to share a bed with my arm and Y/N’s leg.”

“Sounds fun.” Steve laughed.

Reader POV

“Knock knock.” Natasha said, tapping the door frame. “Tony said you weren’t answering any of his messages.”

“I’m avoiding him.” You said, curling further in on yourself.

“I can see that. You’re in the bathtub.” Natasha commented, giving you a look. “Tony wants to talk to you. He sounded worried.”

“He shouldn’t be.” You laughed, pushing your face into your knees. “And I don’t want to see him.”

You didn’t look up to see if Natasha was still there. You didn’t look up to see if she left. You merely pressed your eyes further into your knees.

“Alright budge over.” Sam’s voice penetrated your ears. “That wasn’t a request, baby girl.” Sam said, climbing into the empty tub and gently nudging you over.

“I take it Natasha went and got you.” You whispered.

“She’s worried about you, Y/N. So I am, and so are Steve and Bucky. And so is Tony.”

“All I ever do is make people worry. I’m not worth it.” You whimpered.

“No that’s not true. You are very much worth it.” Sam said, coaxing you to sit up. You still did not meet your eyes as you shoved your face into his shoulder. “Y/N, can you please tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“There was a box of videos found in one of my parents many storage places.” You admitted after a minute. “Tony and I started watching them last night.”

“What was on them?” He questioned you, trailing his fingers down your spine.

“Normal things. Bloopers from our fathers ads, videos our mother tried to take. Things you’d want to film. There was a dinner video, I was about six and it had to be a little under a year before their death. And I remember that night, and I remember Tony and Dad had been fighting. Dad was not in a good mood and I’d knocked a glass.

I remember how angry he was. He started yelling and screaming about how worthless I was and how he never wanted a girl. The video cut off after he asked how he could have a moron for a daughter.”

“I’m sorry to say it but your dad was a dick.” Sam said, making you laugh which turned into a single sob.

“I was never good enough. Tony was never good enough. I was never smart enough and I was never wanted. Maybe it was for good reason.” You said before more sobs bubbled up in your chest. “I just wanted to be good enough.”

Sam shifted his hold on you so you were sitting in his lap and your face was laying on his chest.

“Baby girl, you are more than good enough.” Sam soothed you. “You are everything we want and you are needed in this relationship. On the team. You are needed and you are loved.”

“How do you put up with us, Sammy?” You whispered low into his ear. “We’re all broken, we all know it, you’re not. You deserve so much.”

“I have everything I deserve in my life. I have you, I have Tash, I have Stevie and I have Buck.” He said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love all four of you and the four of you are all I want.”

“We all really need therapy.” You laughed, resting your face under his chin.

“We’re sitting in a bathtub, that’s probably right.”

“Are you two going to get out of the bathtub, or continue having a breakdown?” Natasha suddenly asked from the door way.

“And if so, can we join?” Bucky questioned. Sam turned to you as if to say it was your choice.

“Get in here.” You said, reaching a hand out. As the hours passed the five of you remained in the over sized tub. All of you remained huddled together, all touching in some way, barely talking as you all enjoyed the comfort you each brought.

The four of you agreed on many things, that you didn’t deserve Sam and that you were all broken. But there were many things the four of you and Sam agreed on. One of them being you all needed therapy and the other being you all loved each other.

And that was all you needed. As well as maybe therapy but love. You mainly needed love.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @hopingforbarnes @smilexcaptainx @rvgrsbrns @skeletoresinthebasement @starlingelliot @jelly-fishy-babie @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @agent-barnes40

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@5aftermidnight @ohfuckno Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

The Hunter’s Princess - Chapter 5: Arrows, Knives and Pistols

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira (eventual), Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 5 Word Count: 2490+

Warnings: None really. Each chapter will have individual warnings as needed.

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

Thank you and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the morning of the first day of competition the air was crisp, but not cold enough to warrant an overcoat. Not a cloud in the sky, and the sun was out in full force, bathing the field of competition in its warmth.

Today, Kira would be demonstrating her skill with weaponry. First, the bow and arrow, then throwing knives and lastly, the flintlock pistol. She'd had plenty of practice over the years with these items, so she was not at all concerned about her performance.

Tomorrow's competition was an equestrian event, which involved a course of jumps and turns to prove her skill on horseback. Again, no worries, because she was perfectly comfortable on the back of a horse. Kira used to ride horses on her Aunt Brenda's farm, her favorite being an Arabian stallion named Midnight.

The part that scared Kira the most was the interview with the king and queen. Kira knew she had made an impression on the queen, but she had yet to cross paths with the king. She could tell that the princes held a healthy respect for their parents. Kira had also heard stories that the king was not a man to accept disobedience lightly.

For anyone who had met Kira, it was well known that she has always had trouble following instructions. She had a tendency to follow her heart and leave her head to either catch up or be left behind. That alone was enough to make Kira a little anxious about meeting the king.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sarah entered Kira's room and opened the heavy window curtains, which allowed the abundant sunshine to flood the room with light. Kira was excited for the day's events, so she didn't need much coaxing. But as soon as Kira sat up, she felt a little dizzy so she stopped. She tried again to sit up, albeit a little more slowly and the feeling disappeared.

Kira reviewed her wardrobe and considered her fashion choices for the day. She decided that a day dress would not be practical for the day's events. She pulled on a pair of black leggings, a long rust-colored tunic and her black knee-high boots. She added the leather gauntlets for her wrists. Of course, Kira also made sure she had the locket, which she tucked under the collar of her tunic.

Sufficiently clothed, Kira wandered into the dining hall for the morning meal. Serena and Christina were already seated at one corner of the table, whispering with heads bowed together. As soon as Kira entered the room, Serena and Christina stopped talking. Adriana sat alone in the corner opposite the other two ladies, so Kira walked over to her.

Adriana had long, curly blond hair gathered in a low ponytail in back. Her coffee-colored eyes took in Kira's appearance, almost as if she were sizing up the competition. Adriana's attitude this morning seemed to be a complete turnaround from their conversation at last night's dinner.

Kira wished Adriana good morning, and she politely responded. "Is it all right if I sit with you?" Kira asked.

"I'd rather have the time to myself, to prepare for today's competition if you don't mind," Adriana replied icily.

Kira could feel her cheeks growing warm. "I'm sorry if I have offended you in any way Adriana. If I've said something--" she cut Kira off.

"I'm not really interested in making friends or alliances. I'm here to compete for myself and for my homeland. So, you stay on your eastern side of the kingdom and I'll stay on my southern side of the kingdom. That way, we'll get along just peachy with each other," Adriana retorted as she got up to leave.

"Wow, making lots of friends, aren't we?" Serena sneered. "You've been doing a lot of running around with Castiel and the princes. You probably think that makes you better than the rest of us, but it doesn't. I'd watch your back if I were you, Lady Kira. Accidents can happen," Serena added darkly as she and Christina left the dining hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira made her way to the field for the targeting event, where the other competitors were already waiting. While she walked, she thought about the conversation at breakfast, and each lady's reaction to her. She knew that she wasn't Serena's or Christina's favorite person. However, she thought she at least had a chance at friendship with Adriana. Guess I'm on my own here, she thought.

The firing lanes were spread ten feet apart between each of the competitors. Points were to be scored as follows: Bull's eye was worth 25 points. Moving farther away from the center ring, the point values were reduced to 10, 7, 5 and 3. Each competitor was given ten arrows. The one with the most points at the end of the day wins the event.

First up were Christina and Adriana. They each shot their ten arrows, with Christina earning a total of 75 points. Adriana did almost as well, turning in a good performance with 72 points, while Serena shot extremely well for 87 points.

Finally, it was time for Kira to compete. She stepped up to the firing line and shot her ten arrows. All that practice at the firing range in the bunker must have paid off, because Kira pulled in 89 points. That put her in the lead after the bow and arrow event. She looked over at the royal viewing box, and locked eyes with Prince Dean. He gave Kira a somewhat subtle wink and a smile, causing her to blush slightly.

The next event involved the use of throwing knives. Kira had definitely had plenty of practice at this when fighting shapeshifters and werewolves. She again came away with the highest number of points. By the time the first two events were finished, it was time for the midday meal. The royal family left first to be seated in the dining hall, followed by the competitors.

After everyone was fed, they all trudged back out to the competition field. Each lady's personal flintlock pistols were waiting on a table inside each firing booth. This time, competitors would only have five shots instead of ten. This made the margin for error much smaller, so all shots had to count. Kira only hoped that the lead she had built up from the first two events would be enough to distinguish herself.

Christina and Adriana fared a bit better in this task, while Serena continued to turn in a superior performance. Kira knew she had her work cut out for her. She currently held the lead, but the gap had narrowed to less than what she was comfortable with.

Kira stepped up to the firing line and waited for her cue to begin her performance. As soon as she picked up her pistol, she knew something was wrong with it. Kira examined her firearm, and did not see any immediate evidence of tampering, so she decided to move on.

She lined up the target in her sights and fired the first round, but it went wide of the center. At that moment, Kira figured someone had messed with her sights so they were completely off. Fortunately, she had enough firearms experience to be able to compensate for this occurrence. Kira adjusted her aim and fired her next round, which pierced the target in the center area. The three remaining rounds joined it and the crowd applauded in appreciation.

Kira and the other competitors were called over to the royal box to receive the results of today's events. As they waited, she happened to again lock eyes with Prince Dean, who smiled and nodded in Kira's direction, causing her to blush again.

A page handed Queen Mary a piece of paper with the day's results. She cleared her throat before reading aloud the information. "There are a total of six points separating the top performers. Here are the rankings: in fourth place, Adriana of the Southern territory and third place is Christina, our competitor from the Western territory."

The queen paused at this time, because she had yet to mention two competitors, Kira and Serena. "In second place but only three points off the leader, we have Serena from the Northern territory, leaving Kira from the Eastern territory as today's winner!" The crowd jumped to its feet and broke into a thunderous applause.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After the announcement that Kira was the points leader in the Princes' Challenge, she received no end of congratulatory hugs and well wishes. She began to get a little uncomfortable with all the attention, so she excused herself to her room for some rest. Prince Samuel caught up to Kira as she walked back to her quarters. "Is everything all right, Lady Kira?" he asked.

Kira gave a quick curtsy. "Yes, Your Highness, everything is fine. I just need a small break for now, but I'll see you at dinner," she answered.

Prince Samuel took her hand and kissed the back of it. "I look forward to seeing you, Lady Kira. Absolutely magnificent performance, by the way. Can't wait to see you on horseback tomorrow," he grinned. "Until dinner, Lady Kira," he said softly, kissing her hand again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Prince Dean saw Lady Kira try and gracefully remove herself from the crowd of well-wishers. His heart went out to her because she looked a little overwhelmed from all the attention. The prince walked around the corner from the competition field, and saw Lady Kira in conversation with his brother. Only it looked like he was letting his lips on the back of her hand do more of the talking.

Dean didn't blame Lady Kira, she was only being polite, but he was angry with his brother. Sam saw how Dean reacted when he saw Castiel and Lady Kira together that first day in the marketplace. On that day, Prince Dean admitted that he was a little jealous. Castiel assured him many times that he had no intentions towards Lady Kira other than friendship. Prince Dean, however, had other ideas.

Lady Kira, he thought. She's....amazing. She's smart, determined and beautiful, with a generous spirit. She certainly proved her weapons skills today, he acknowledged. The prince could see that the lady cares so deeply about others. It made him wonder if she's ever given a thought about what she wants from life.

It was clear to Prince Dean that Lady Kira genuinely wants to help people, not for the fame or recognition, but because it's the right thing to do. It sounded to him like the makings of a good queen. Collins told the princes and Castiel that her people absolutely adore her and are fiercely loyal to her. Prince Dean thought that it was easy to see why.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean and Lady Kira arrived in the Tub Room, where Dean showed her where the shampoo, soaps and towels were located. She had brought some clothes from her room to change into after her bath.

"There's hot and cold running water in here, 'hot' is on the left and 'cold' is on the right. I'll get it started, then you can adjust the temperature to however you like. When you're done, just pull the plug at the bottom and all the water will drain away," Dean explained. "Any questions?" he asked. Lady Kira shook her head. "Welp, then I guess I'll leave you to it. Enjoy," he remarked.

"Thank you," Lady Kira murmured. She marveled at the convenience of not having to heat up the water before bathing. She wondered how she was ever going to go back to the way things were when she returned to her home dimension. Nevertheless, she was determined to do whatever it would take to restore balance in the universe.

As the water filled the tub, Lady Kira selected some lavender bath salts, which she knew would smell nice and help her to sleep. She grabbed the pitcher from the cabinet shelf and the shampoo so she could wash her hair as well. She sprinkled in the bath salts and let the water run for a few more minutes before turning off the faucet and stepping into the tub.

After Lady Kira finished washing her hair, she nestled into the tub and let her mind drift to the three men in charge of her return home. For a situation that ought to be scaring the daylights out of her, she was surprisingly calm. It was like she'd met them before, but how could she have done that?

Castiel....an Angel of the Lord here, but there was a Castiel who was best friends with the crown princes....Samuel and Dean! Of course, that's why these men looked familiar, why she felt so at ease around them.

She wondered if the princes and Castiel in her world were also hunters. If they were, it wasn't something that was well-known. Lady Kira imagined the circumstances were the same in this world, that these men saved people. They just didn't want the recognition for it.

When the water started to lose its warmth, Lady Kira exited the tub and reached down to pull the stopper, as Dean instructed. These men were certainly attractive, but she was drawn to Dean in particular. The way he carried himself gave off an air of protectiveness, determination and strength.

However, his moss-colored eyes held a hint of sadness in them each time he looked at her. His look reminded Lady Kira of a man who clearly longed to be with the woman he loved. She wondered if there was some sort of attraction between Dean and the woman whose place she had taken. Lady Kira made a mental note to ask Sam about the nature of their relationship, if any.

She caught a whiff of the scent from the lavender bath salts and inhaled deeply. As she stood up, she felt a jolt of dizziness in her head. She braced herself on the edge of the tub as a slide show of images flashed through her mind.

At first, she saw Dean standing next to an older man with a beard and a kind face. She recognized Sam, but this was a much younger version. In the next flash, there were two women, one with short dark hair and one with long blond hair, taking turns hugging Sam and Dean. Another flash featured a short man in an all-black suit with a dark beard and mustache, standing next to a woman with long and wavy red hair.

These must be her memories, Lady Kira thought. That lavender smell must have triggered it, she reasoned. Another dizzying jolt brought an image of Dean and Kira, sitting on a couch, his arms wrapped snugly around her. She reaches for Dean's hands and intertwines their fingers. Although they are not looking at each other, Lady Kira can see it in their eyes.

They are most definitely in love with each other.

Part 6 here!

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Tags: @janicho88 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @supernatural-jackles @babygurltt

The Hunter’s Princess Series tags: @flamencodiva

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #au!dean winchester x reader #au!dean winchester #spn #au!supernatural The Hunter's Princess series

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candy-and-writing · 5 years ago

Text

Fresh Mountain Air For A Not So Fresh Beginning

Summary: After a mission went horribly wrong, and resulted in you getting hurt and suffering from major PTSD and anxiety, your boys move you to the mountains to heal

Warnings: 18+, implied rape, past rape, PTSD, anxiety attacks, PTSD attacks, smut, oral, minor angst

Taglist: @imsonick @forever-a-cynical @captainn-americaa @natdrunk @patzammit @stupendousshepherdloverpony @thereluctantlady @bangtan-serendipity

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Steve sat on the balcony, hot mug of coffee in hand as he watched Bucky raise the axe and bring it down, chopping the wood into two. The weather was supposed to get bad this week, so he made sure everyone was doing their chores now in case they lost power. You were sitting on the couch, humming along to the radio as you finished folding the laundry. Steve had gone into town for groceries earlier this morning and did the dishes, and Bucky was chopping firewood. You were pretty high up in the mountains, so the forecast wasn't clear on exactly how bad it was supposed to be. If you had to go a few days without running the dishwasher, it would be alright.

Steve came back inside, shutting the screen door behind him. He set his coffee down on the dining table before taking his coat off, moving to hang it up by the door.

"Hey," you said, folding one of Bucky's shirts in your lap. "Buck almost done?"

"He should be, he's got enough wood to keep us warm all winter."

You stopped, a pair of boxers in hand as you looked out the window. "If he doesn't come in soon, you might have to go get him. It looks like the wind's starting to pick up."

Steve nodded, setting his mug in the sink. He'd wait for Bucky to get in and have his coffee before he washed it.

The door that led to the garage opened, Bucky bumping it closed with his backside. He struggled to toe off his shoes, a string of curses leaving his mouth. His arms were full of chopped firewood, his nose and cheeks rosy from the cold. His recent haircut was hidden underneath a woven cap, keeping his ears warm. He was wearing the heavy wool flannel jacket you liked to steal from time to time when you were cold.

"Hey, doll," he greeted, piling the wood on the rack by the fireplace. Steve was right, he chopped enough wood to keep you warm all winter. "How's laundry goin'?"

"I'm almost done," you replied, a warm smile on your face. "If you want me to wash those, though—" you gestured to his clothing, "—you should change. I think I could manage to scrape together another load with the clothes from last night and this morning."

Bucky shrugged. "They're fine, sweetheart, don't worry about it."

Steve asked where Bucky had put the rest of the firewood, he responded with, "out in the garage. Figured it'd stay dry there."

You finished folding the laundry as Bucky warmed up with a cup of coffee, talking to Steve about the impending storm. When he finished his coffee, black with a little bit of sugar, Bucky and Steve met you in the bedroom to help put the clothes away. Bucky put things in drawers, and Steve handed you clothing to hang on hangers. That was what you always did, it was your routine. It worked. And when Buck was done putting the folded clothing away, he helped between handing Steve empty hangers and handing you the hangers that had clothes on them.

It was moments like these that made you forget the reason you moved up here. That made Steve retire early and made Bucky available only for short and sweet missions. The reason you had nightmares and woke up screaming each night, and your boys would struggle to comfort you because you were so stuck in your own head it became difficult to tell what was real.

It would be six months tomorrow, if the calendar was correct. It wasn't marked or anything, but it was easy enough to count down the days, the weeks, when they've been so blatantly haunting you. Like Steve said, one day at a time, and you counted every single day, waiting for it not to hurt anymore.

You had been on a mission with Bucky. Steve was with Sam in a small Siberian town while you two were in Turkey. It was hot and bright and it was sweaty. It's one of the reasons you moved to the mountains, to avoid the heat.

You had been checking out some old HYDRA intel. Bucky thought it was probably nothing, but you needed to be safe rather than sorry. It wasn't a big deal.

It wasn't supposed to be a big deal.

You and Bucky had split up. He took the upper levels and you took the lower ones. You had made it to the basement, so far finding nothing but empty file cabinets, too large of spiders, and outdated technology. Bucky had been sure to tell you to make sure and check that none of the computers worked.

You remembered calling Bucky through your comms. He said he hadn't found anything, and you were about to say the same. You had barely taken two steps into the room when you heard something shift behind you. Before you could turn around there was a sharp pinch in your neck and you winced, stumbling. Your vision became cloudy and your head spinny and you fell over before you even realized it.

When you awoke, Bucky was chained to the wall. You were chained down in the middle of the floor, your uniform gone. You—

"Y/n? Sweetie, you with us?" Bucky's voice dragged you from your thoughts. Steve was looking at you, a hand reached out and eyes full of worry. Bucky wore the same expression.

"Yeah," you smiled. "Sorry, I just blanked for a second. What were you saying?"

Steve continued to look at you with his worrying gaze. You just smiled at him, hopefully convincing him you were fine.

"I'm trying to convince Steve we need a dog," Bucky said. "We talked about it, but Steve still has a stick up his ass."

"I don't have a stick up my ass," Steve argued. You huffed out a laugh. "If we get a dog, we'll have to build a fence. And in moments like this when the weather is bad, we'll have a hard time taking care of it. We've had this discussion, Buck."

"So we invest in a therapy dog, those are a thing, right? It'd be trained, and we can have it to help Y/n. Or myself, Lord knows I need a dog sometimes."

Steve sighed. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Bucky smiled. "I'd be willing to negotiate a cat?"

Steve looked over to you. You just smiled and shrugged. You both knew he wasn't winning this argument.

"We'll look into it after the storm," Steve sighed, defeated.

A smile broke onto your face, Bucky following. "Maybe Pepper can find some shelters?" you suggested.

"Yeah, I'll talk to her."

You kissed his cheek. Bucky pulled him in for a kiss, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into them. He kissed your head, Steve hugging you.

"I want a golden retriever," Steve demanded. You laughed.

"Deal."

••••

You lost power by eight o'clock that night. The wind was howling outside your windows, the blizzard knocking against the glass. You were eating ice cream and drinking the bottle of wine Steve had bought for date night when the TV shut down and the lights turned off all at once.

Steve had lit as many candles as he could while Bucky gathered your collection of many blankets. You sat on the floor, wine in hand and wrapped in a knitted blue throw while playing a game of Monopoly.

"That's bullshit!" Bucky shouted, throwing his hands up. "That's the fourth time I've landed on this stupid thing. Y/n, baby, please, you gotta help me out here."

You giggled. "I'm not trading this property with you, Buck. Not unless you give me an offer."

"Come on," Bucky whined, "work with me, baby."

Your eyes widened as your mind flashed back to that night, back to the basement. Come on, baby, work with me. You felt his hands on you, his fingers creeping up your skin. Bucky watched the color drain from your face, tears prickling at your eyes.

"Doll?" When you didn't respond, Steve realized what was happening.

"Shit, Buck, she's having a flashback." Steve stood, swiftly tucking his arm under your knees and picking you up.

It'll feel real nice, baby, just relax.

"I'll put her playlist on, can I do anything else?"

Steve was careful to set you on the bed, still cradling you and wiping the tears from your cheeks. Even in the dim lighting of the candles, he could see the fear in your eyes. "Warm a kettle over the fire, we can make her some hot chocolate."

Bucky nodded before rushing out of the room. You were shaking now, struggling to catch your breath.

"It's alright, baby, it's okay," Steve cooed. "You're safe, you're home. No one can hurt you, you're safe." He gave you a quick squeeze, his arms tightening around you.

He went through the list your therapist gave them back at the compound. Soft music, check. Dark room, check. Tight hug or pressure from Steve or Bucky, check. The weighted blanket was under the bed, he could have Bucky grab it if you wanted it.

Get her to open up, don't let her close herself off.

"Sweetie, I need you to talk to me," Steve uttered. "I can help get you through this, you just need to talk to me, to us."

You took a couple shaky breaths, opening your mouth before closing it again.

"The. . . the basement—I—and. . . and Bucky—"

"Buck is just fine, sweetheart," Steve answered, smiling slightly. "He's making you some hot chocolate."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and watery. "He is?"

"Yeah, he should be in any minute."

You mouthed a silent 'oh' and curled back into Steve's chest. Bucky stepped in the bedroom quietly, a mug of hot chocolate in hand. He handed the black and gold star-spangled mug to Steve—it was your favorite, you claimed it reminded you of both your boys. Your hands shook as you took the mug from Steve, your grip lax and careful as you took a small sip. You mumbled a small thank you and looked at Bucky, who gave you a sad, small smile.

"Keep talking, sweetheart," Steve whispered into your hair. "Can you tell me five things you see around you?"

He heard you swallow, gathering your voice, and you started looking at the room around you.

"I, um—I see Bucky," you said, your voice unsure. "I can see your shirt. . . the painting you made for me for my birthday, the wall, and the lamp."

"Good," Steve praised, "that's good. Tell me four things you can touch around you?"

You took another sip of the hot chocolate, the hint of cinnamon leaving a ghost of a smile on your face. "I'm touching my favorite mug, the one Bucky got me for Christmas last year. I'm touching the bedsheets. . . I'm touching you and your shirt by leaning on you, and if I reached I could touch Bucky."

Bucky reached out and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the skin below your knuckles. You sighed, relishing in his touch. He asked you to name three things you could hear, Steve kissing your temples.

"I can hear your voice, I can hear Steve's heartbeat, and. . . and I can hear the wind outside."

"You're doing so good, doll, we're almost done. Name two things you can smell?"

You thought for a moment, inhaling to smell your surroundings. "I can smell. . . the hot chocolate you made me, with the cinnamon in it. And. . . I can smell Steve's cologne."

"One thing you can taste?"

The hot chocolate, you replied. Steve smiled and kissed your forehead, hugging you as Bucky squeezed your hand.

"How do you feel?"

"Better," you sighed. You clenched and unclenched your hand, your nerves tightening after the anxiety started to fall. Your head ached, your brain pounding at your temples. "I'm sorry I. . . freaked out."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, sweetheart," Bucky said. "We just want to make sure you're alright." You nodded, closing your eyes as you focused on Steve's heartbeat jumping steadily through his sweater.

"Can you tell us what caused this?" Steve asked. You were silent for a long moment, thinking back. You weren't quite sure yourself—one second you were drinking wine in the living room with Bucky and Steve, and the next you were in bed, clutching onto Steve because you couldn't breathe.

"I think—I think Bucky said something," you said. "Something that. . . that he had said and it just—it made me spiral."

"I'm so sorry, doll," Bucky said, kissing your knuckles as he looked at you apologetically.

"What did he say?" Steve asked.

You shook your head. "I don't know." You pushed your mug into Steve's hands, and he set in on the nightstand by the side of the bed. Your hands covered your face as you stifled a sob.

"Come here, sweetheart." Steve's heart broke as he hugged you closer to his chest. Bucky crawled over to the empty space on the bed next to you and rested his hand on your stomach, kissing your head. "Talk to us."

"I thought I could get past this," you told them, crying. "I—I can still feel him, I can still feel his hands on me and I don't know how to get it to stop!"

Steve looked over to Bucky, who looked back at him sadly. It was hard, seeing their best girl like this, and they were never quite sure how to help you. You didn't like them touching you a certain way after you were attacked, but maybe—just maybe—that was what you needed.

"How 'bout Stevie and I try something different tonight?" Bucky said, running his hand up and down your arm.

"Like what?" you sniffled.

"We know you haven't wanted us to touch you since. . . you know, but do you think that would help?" Steve asked, looking down at you. "You keep feeling him on you, maybe we can help wipe him away? We're willing to wait as long as you need us to, baby, we just want to help you."

"I—I don't know."

"Are you willing to try?" Bucky whispered against your temple. "If you don't like it, tell us and we'll stop. Is that okay?"

You thought for a moment, nodding carefully. Steve placed a chaste kiss on your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Are you sure? We don't want to pressure you—if you don't feel comfortable doing this, we won't."

You shook your head. "I want to try. I want to see if I can do it. . . please."

More than anything, you wanted to please your boys. You wanted them to be happy and proud of you, you craved their appraisal like an addict craved pills. You weren't sure this was going to work, but you wanted to try, you'd try anything just to be able to feel Steve and Bucky touch you again.

Steve placed his hands under your arms, lifting you and shifting you so you sat in between his legs. Bucky crawled so he kneeled over you, and suddenly you were trapped. But that was okay, you were safe. You were with the two people you trusted the most, and you trusted they'd take care of you.

Bucky cupped your cheek with his hand, bringing you in for a soft kiss. Your shoulders relaxed as you leaned into his touch, Steve trailing kisses down your neck. You hesitantly moved your lips against Bucky's, placing your hands on his face and bringing him closer to you. You let out a whimper as Bucky licked your lips, asking for access. You allowed it, opening your mouth and letting his tongue roam with yours. He pushed you against Steve's chest, your back collided with solid muscle, Steve's hands trailing up under your sweater. You shuddered at the warmth, at the ghost-like touches he left in his wake as Bucky buried his hands through your hair.

It was almost too much, their touches, the way they were everywhere all at once. Their touch burned, but in a good way, almost. You didn't want them to stop. If they stopped now, you were certain you'd combust.

"Can I take this off?" Steve husked against your ear, tugging at your sweater. You nodded, and he was quick to pull it over your head, leaving you in your push-up bra.

Steve bit back a groan, nibbling on your ear as Bucky trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw. You whined out a moan, Steve grabbing at your breasts. A spark of panic shot through you and your eyes shot open. You pulled away from Steve, pushing Bucky away.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart," Steve cooed, reaching out to grab your arm. "It's okay. You're okay, baby. It's just me."

Your chest fell and rose heavily. Bucky cupped your cheek, kissing your nose. "It's just us, doll. You're safe. . . . Do we need to stop?"

You looked up at him. You didn't want to stop, you wanted to enjoy them, you wanted to make then feel good. But this damn sense of panic wasn't going away.

"I want to keep going," you told them, eyes watery. "I want to make you feel good, I want to feel good. I just. . . can't stop this."

"Just relax, baby," Bucky muttered. "Focus on us. On our touch. Know that it's us and just focus on how good we'll make you feel."

You nodded, leaning back against Steve's chest. You told him he could touch you again, guiding his hands to your chest. He added the slightest pressure and squeezed, your breasts in his hands as you shuddered out a breath.

"Oh."

"That feel good, baby?" Steve asked, kissing your neck as Bucky attacked the other side. You nodded, sighing as you melted into his touch. "I bet it does, sweetheart. I can't imagine how you feel, not being able to let us make you feel good. We're here now, we're gonna take real good care of you."

"I love you," you sighed, digging your nails into Bucky's hair. "Both of you."

"We love you too, doll." Bucky kissed down your collar bone, his lips at the edge of your bra. Steve reached and unclipped your bra, letting it slide down your shoulders. Bucky was quick to dispose of it, throwing it to the floor. "You're so beautiful, baby."

You cried out Bucky's name as his lips latched onto your nipple, Steve rolling the other one between his fingertips. You focused on your boys, on the sensation of Bucky—of his tongue swirling against your hardened bud, of his hand cupping your cheek, of his hand in your hair. You focused on Steve—on his hands, on the solid muscle behind your back, of the feeling of his hair in your fingers.

Bucky's hand fell to your pants. "Can I take these off, baby?"

You nodded, afraid to use your voice. He unbuckled your jeans, slowly sliding them down your legs, off your feet. You had on cheeky lace underwear. Suddenly, you thought back to when you used to wear much less conservative underwear. Steve and Bucky always liked those—your decorative thongs, your favorite pair used to be lace with flowers. You got rid of them after you were attacked, but maybe you could get some new, less casual ones.

Bucky licked his lips, staring at your clothed core. Steve's hands kneaded at your breasts, thumb brushing over your nipple as he kissed a line on your shoulder. Bucky was quick to pull at your underwear, leaving you completely exposed.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Steve asked quietly. You nodded, keeping eyes on Bucky.

Bucky looked up at you, eyes dark. The flickering flame casted a reflection upon his face, giving him a goldish glow. The wind howled outside, ice hitting the window. Normally, that sound would've had you jumping three feet into the air in terror, but now you couldn't care less—too caught up in the way Bucky's eyes darkened as he asked for permission. When you nodded, he slid down, laying on his stomach, and dove in.

You had almost forgotten what it felt like to have Bucky's tongue wrapped around your clit. You moaned as he licked up in a broad swipe, focusing the tip of his tongue on your bud. Steve massaged your chest, tweaking your nipples and running over them with the pads of his fingers.

"Oh, God. . ." you whined. "Keep going, please. Don't—don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, princess," Steve moaned.

Bucky continued to work his mouth on you until you were burning, writhing and struggling in both his and Steve's grasps. You were sure you were going to explode. When Bucky entered a finger into you, you cried out. It wasn't enough. You needed more.

"How's that feel, baby?" Steve cooed, hands focusing on your breasts. "Buck doin' good?"

You nodded frantically. Steve chuckled in your ear, voice gravelly and low.

"Buck here almost couldn't wait any longer, all we wanted to do was get his mouth on you, sweetheart. It's what he dreamed about when he touched himself, when he sucked me off. He's been waiting for this."

Bucky hummed into your flesh, sending vibrations up through your clit. He was careful as he pushed a second finger into you, looking for the spot inside you that could shatter you. That coil inside you was tight, threatening to explode and send you over the edge. You began to babble, endless pleas of 'don't stop,' and 'Bucky, please.'

He pushed the pads of his fingers up, still teasing your bundle of nerves and that was all it took. You cried out, the coil snapping like a taught rubber band and you grinded back into Steve as you tried to pull away, overstimulated. Steve shushed you, whispering in your ear as Bucky rode you from your high until it was simply too much. You whined, your voice cracking, and Bucky seemed to get the message. He pulled away, his chin slick with your juices. Still blissed out, he hooked his finger under your chin, bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, salty and tangy.

You didn't realize you were crying until Bucky wiped away a tear. "You okay, doll?"

You nodded. "Yeah. . . yeah, I just—I hadn't realized how much I missed this. I'm sorry I made you wait on me."

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart," Steve said, kissing your cheek. "We'd wait as long as you needed us to."

You sat up, turning so you straddled Steve's lap. You hung your arms over his shoulders, brushing your noses together.

"Can you do something for me?" you asked, your voice low and sultry in post-orgasmic bliss.

"Anything," Steve answered, ask too quickly.

"I want you to fuck me. I want you to erase any memory of that man inside of me. Can you do that?"

"Happily."

He kissed you then, loving and dominant and so incredibly Steve. Bucky kissed up your neck, sucking a deep red spot next to the many Steve had left. You whimpered into Steve's lips, dragging your hands up his shirt. He pulled away for a second, discarding his shirt and sitting up on his knees, shimmying off his pants. He turned you around before settling back down, having you straddle his thighs.

"You sure you're up for this, baby?" Bucky asked, kissing behind your ear as his fingers danced around your nipples.

You nodded, whining. "I—I can do it."

Steve hummed, feeling himself brush against your folds. Bucky gave you his signature dorky smile, which you returned as best you could. Steve eased into you slowly, both men watching for any sign of discomfort. You were wet enough, but you were still awfully tight. Tighter than usual. Even after your orgasm, Steve was having a hard time fitting himself inside you.

The three of you haven't had sex since before the attack. Bucky and Steve had quick shower sex in the morning sometimes after a run, when they were sure you were still asleep, but they didn't like doing it without you. You were apart of them, doing such an intimate act without you didn't feel right.

Steve groaned at the feeling, the silky heat of you clutching him like a vice. He grunted, wrapping an arm around your front and hugging you close to his chest, carefully rocking his hips up. His thrusts start out slow and deep, until you're writhing and mewling for more.

Bucky crawls up and straddles both you and Steve, his tongue curling around your nipple. He wraps his tongue around your bud, sucking lightly. You let out a whimper, moaning as Steve speeds his pace up, pounding into you in the most delicious way. Bucky guides your hand and wraps it around his cock, moving it up and down in long, slow strokes. You withdrew your hand like he had burned you, your eyes wide. Steve stills inside you, watching your back muscles tense.

"It's okay, doll, it's just me. . . . Do we need to stop?"

You blinked. "No, no—I'm okay. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "Please, I want to keep going, I can do this." You reached out and grabbed for his length, your nimble fingers wrapping around him.

It's just Bucky, he won't hurt you. You're safe here.

Quickly, you fall into the rhythm Steve has set, your other hand moving to clutch Bucky's shoulder as he fucks into your hand.

It's easy, the three of you moving in tandem. You don't know how long it's been, how long either of them have touched you like this, or when you last touched them. You feel guilty now, forgetting something that made you feel so good.

"Steve," you moan. "Bucky, please."

"You're doing so good, baby," Bucky praised. "You—ah, fuck—you feel so good."

You whined, Steve picking up his pace. You weren't going to last much longer, not with Steve pounding into you the way he is, not with him groaning in your ear and not with Bucky using your hand to get himself off.

"Can I come inside, baby?" Steve moans. "Fill you up, wash out every memory of that day. Fuck—we're gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, all you have to do is let us."

"Yes," you nodded frantically. "Yes, please, please. I need you. Come inside, please, Stevie."

Bucky reached down and rubbed at your clit, sending you over the edge. You screamed, seizing up and convulsing around Steve's cock. Steve cursed, feeling you pulsate around him. He came with a grunt, coating your walls with his cum. Bucky finished soon after, covering your stomach with his cum.

You released Bucky, falling back against Steve in exhaustion. When you opened your eyes again, Steve was petting your hair while Bucky cleaned up his mess with a wet washcloth. Steve whispered sweet nothings in your ear, running his fingers through your sweat soaked locks.

I'm so proud of you.

You did so good.

So perfect for us.

We love you.

After Bucky tossed the cloth in the wicker laundry basket, he laid down in the space next to you, hugging you close to his chest. Your hand rested across Steve's pecs, your head above his heartbeat.

"You did so well, sweetheart," Bucky purred, tracing circles along your back. "How do you feel?"

"Good," you hummed, snuggling closer to Steve's warmth. "Real good."

"That's amazing, baby," Steve murmured. "Did it help any?"

You nodded. It helped a lot, actually. The throbbing between your legs was welcoming, euphoria coursing through veins. You hated yourself for connecting your boys with the kind of hate you experienced, for making them wait so long.

"Let's go to sleep, doll." Bucky kissed your shoulder. "We can talk more in the morning, if we have power I'll make some waffles."

You hummed in content, sleep overtaking you. Bucky wrapped an arm around your middle, with Steve wrapping his arm behind you both.

"I love you."

230 notes · View notes

ariannnawinchester · 5 years ago

Text

A Hell of a ride

Characters: Reader, Dean, Bobby, Sam, Lisa & Ben.

Pairings: Dean x Reader & Dean x Lisa.

Warnings: Angst, language and some fighting.

Summary: Part 1 of a new series. Set in Season 6, Sam and the Reader have been living questionable lives after they crawled out of hell. Dean gets dragged right back into the life with his new family. The stakes get way to high, can they win? Will Dean’s love for the Reader fix everything?

A/N: Yes, I know I have been gone for way too long and I am deeply sorry. However, I am back, with stories that with tantalise your mind and leave you wanting more. Hahah. Thank you for reading. Constructive criticism and feedback is highly appreciated as always.

“Y/N.”

Your name tumbled out of his mouth in stunned whisper. He was frozen for almost three heartbeats, just standing there with his haw slack as he blinked slowly. He was in shock and you couldn't blame him. You could see the gears, whirring behind his eyes, the information seeping in. The realisation finally crashing into him like a tsunami.

He whipped around, the deadly accusatory glare directed at Bobby, who could look everywhere except at Dean.

“You know they were alive this whole time?” he spat, “this whole goddamn time?” his jaw clenched shut and his temple throbbing from the fury brewing in the pit of his stomach.

Bobby cleared his throat and rose from his chair to walk towards Dean. He lifted his hand to lay it onto Dean’s shoulder. But Dean, he just dodged Bobby’s touch. The betrayal evident on his face, “Of course you knew Bobby. You just failed to inform me. How long?” His voice growing louder as he demanded answers, “How goddamn long have they been back?”

The guilt was bubbling it’s way to the surface of your skin but all you did was stay standing next to Sam, with your arms folded across your chest and watched Dean pace up and down the study and lose his mind.

“A year.”

Dean cast his eyes to you and Sam, his lips curled into an angry scowl as he smudged away on lone tear that fell down his cheek, “You’re kidding right?” he shook his head, refusing to believe what he was hearing. He resumed his pacing just for the sake of movement.

A brief looked passed between you and Sam before you stalked up to Dean and grabbed him by his collar, forcing him to stop moving so he could finally look at you for more than two seconds.

“Don’t you dare blame this on Bobby.” you growled, “he did what he thought was best for you.” you stabbed a finger into his solid chest, the frown of his face ebbing away and the softness returning to his eyes at your words but that didn't stop you, “You finally had a life. A good life that you deserve, so sue us for wanting to keep you out. Now, do yourself a goddamn favor and stay out.” You release his collar from your grip and shove him back.

Before your own tears threatened to fall, you stormed out, slamming the door behind you as your tried to block out their raised voices. Once again, blaming each other for the shit show that was the last couple of months.

The nippy air bit at your exposed skin as you sat at the work bench in the scrap yard, twirling your bronze knife between your fingers and watching the metal reflect the light. There’s no handbook to help when you come back to life, it ain’t no walk in the park either. When you woke up, you were all alone in the cemetery, the rain falling in sheets but you could feel anything. There’s this massive void inside your ribs that you cant seemed to fill. You tried, god knows you tried to feel even the slightest bit normal again but nothing worked. Not alcohol, not sex, not even the thrill that came from the hunt but blood..

One thing hadn't changed though, you felt it in your bones. One specific detail was sewn into your very being. That Dean was still the love of your life. You didn't have the courage to tell him that the first thing you did when you rose from the ground was to try and find your way back to him. You had walked miles to him, covered in dirt and grime, your sheer determination fuelling you. But you couldn't will yourself to walk up to the door, you just stood at the opposite side of the street and watched them being a family through the slits in the curtains as the sun began to set. He deserved her and the boy, he looked happy and he deserved to be. Regardless of the gnawing jealousy the crawled into the pit of your stomach, you walked away. You had to, because you knew it was for the best.

“I knew I’d find you here.” his voice jolting you to the present, his smile throwing you off balance as he sat down in front of you. His fingers settled on the carving in the wood, tracing the pattern of a heart and your initials with his.

A scowled found it’s way across your lips, “Where else could I be? Not like I could go to Hell twice in a row. Or is that just jinxing it?” you added with a sarcastic smile.

Dean was stunned, like you had just slapped him across the face and wreaked baby all in one go. His eyes glossed over as he sucked in a breath, using the moment of silence to figure out the right words to say.

“I could think about what I want to say for days but nothing would be enough. Nothing will amount to the sacrifice you made.” his voice cracked, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I went to her because Sam made me promise, you made me promise. If I had known you were alive, Jesus, I would have dropped everything, anything for you and Sammy. For my brother and my girl.” He was shaking as he spoke, his lip trembling as his tears fell freely.

Like a spring, you shot to your feet, “Whoa!” the shock evident in your voice, “It doesn't work like that okay? We can’t just pick up were we left off.” your chest was heaving, ‘I died, okay? I died. Like dead as a fucking door knob dead. I’m not the same girl anymore. The girl you knew and loved died in that cemetery. And, she’ll never come back.”

Dean just stared at you, like a wounded puppy with his green eyes big and teary. He looked like he was barely holding himself together, the anguish busting his seams. But what could you do? Nothing. You had to let him be and let him go.

You sighed, tucking your stray strands of hair behind your ears, “If you’re thinking of leaving Lisa for blood covered machetes and a dead girl, you’re making a big mistake. A fucking colossal mistake. You have something with her, so don't throw it away. She obviously loves you and was there in ways I could never have been. So, just go live your life. You can repay me for my sacrifice by doing that.”

You pocketed your dagger, sparing one last look at Dean, you walked back towards the house.

You were on your knees, ruffling through the kitchen drawer in search of a bottle opener when you felt a hand graze your shoulder.

“Y/N right?” Lisa questioned, a thin smile on her bare lips.

As you straightened up, you dusted your dark jeans at the knees before you reached out to shake her hand.

“The one and only.” you answered, trying your hardest to be polite, “It’s nice to finally meet you and to put a name to a face.” you lied, walking to the fridge just for the sake of something to do, “Beer?” you offered, “Canned beer because the bottle opener is lost to the world.”

Barely any reaction crossed her features, she just nodded and leaned against the table whilst opened and handed her the beer.

The air was thick, the silence suffocating you. Something felt off about the whole situation but your just couldn't figure out what. Your blood began racing in your veins, burning hot like it was laced with acid and all you wanted to do was run. But you didn't. You stayed put and rose your gaze to face her.

“Sorry about not introducing myself properly earlier. I’m not exactly big on reunions or a people’s person.” you scoffed and leaned against the counter. You opened your beer, the satisfying ‘tshhh’ sound filling your ears before you took a huge gulp and spoke again, “I’m also sorry that your boy got dragged into this. But I’m sure you knew. That everything and everyone in this life is messy and every single thing comes with terms and conditions or a consequence.”

She let out a gust of air, her lips pulled in a tight line as she set the untouched beer down and shook the condensation of her fingers.

“Oh you mean like you? Your noble sacrifice? You left him and he was so broken. I had to try and put him back together and still he used to talk about you.” utter heartbreak lacing her voice, causing your eyes to dart to her face, “Only in his sleep. He’d never speak about what happened when he was awake. He didn't wanna speak to me.” she shrugged, her shoulders sagging.

“Lisa, you don't have to wor-” you began to say before she interrupted.

“I pieced two and two together. Now, it finally makes sense to me. Of why he chose you, why he’ll always choose you. I want to hate you, I want to hate you so bad, for his heart belonging to you. But I can’t. You died to save the world. You’re great, more than I’ll ever be.” she choked back a sob, “He might have physically been there with me but you were the only thing mattered to him. You and Sam. I love him. And it hurts so much because he’ll never love me back. He will never love me back.” She clutched onto the table for support, the grief and agony washing over her as her tears began to fall.

You were awful in situations like this. You never knew what to say or what to do.

“Lisa.” you started, trying to bring some comfort, “he cares about you and your son deeply.” you smiled gently, pointing towards the kitchen window to show her Dean and Ben sitting on the hood of a scrap car, just talking.

“No!” she yelled, the shrill of her voice startling you as she shoved you back hard enough to make you land on your ass, “You don't understand. It hurts. It hurts so much.” she was trembling, her eyes bloodshot and her tears running black down her face as she walked towards you, “You don't know how much it hurts to give someone the best of you and watch him choose someone else. You’re the dead girl and he’ll still choose you.”

She bared her teeth and leaped at you.

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fandomoneshots-imagines · 5 years ago

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Experiment - Part 6 (Platonic!Avengers x Hybrid!OFC)

Warnings: a bit of fluff, Kat gets angry, language

Shuri and I talked for a little while then a loud beeping went off, “Ok, Kat, I need you to start looking for everyone. Do whatever you need to do to find Tony, Peter, Nat, Clint, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and T’Challa. Got it?” Wanda and Bruce decided to stay back and get dinner ready.

“Got it!” I grinned and held up my thumb. I stood still for a moment listening to the noises of the woods and taking in the smells. In less than a second I could hear the plates of Bucky’s arm ticking and whirling. As quietly as I could I stalked in his direction. I knew he’d be able to hear me coming as well as before I got too close I climbed up into the trees, leaping silently from branch to branch. I got to the tree Bucky was hiding behind and giggled looking down at him peak around the large oak.

My giggling made his head shoot up but I hid behind some branches and leaves, “Come on kitten. I heard you up there.” He stepped away from the coverage of the tree and I balanced out onto one of the limbs as his back was turned to me then let my body drop and land behind him with a soft thud.

“I found Bucky!” I jumped on him, making him let out a squeak of surprise.

“The arm gave me away didn’t it?” He chuckled as I slid off.

“Mmhmm,” I hummed, “Very loud.” I nodded and knocked my knuckles against it, making the man shake his head with a smile on his face.

“Who ya going after now?”

“Tony tummy thingy noisey too.” I whispered pointing in the direction it was coming from. “I saw Petey in trees but I’m not gonna let him know. He was swinging.”

“She is using the abilities of the others to help find them.” Shuri mumbled as her and Bucky followed me in the direction of where Tony could be heard. He was just casually leaning up against the side of a tree, playing on his phone. I motioned for Shuri and Bucky to stop and moved to where I would be coming at Tony from straight on. He still hadn’t noticed me even when I was a few feet away. I stood directly in front of him now where I could see the screen to his phone. He was playing some game, which made me pout.

“You said had no games!” I screeched, making him jump and fumble his phone.

“Holy shit kid!” He yelled, placing his hand over his heart. I crossed my arms over my chest and kept the pout. “We’re putting a bell on you.” I just huffed and turned away from him.

“I think you pissed her off Stark.” Bucky chuckled and I grumbled stomping off in search of my next target.

“It’s not a game. I’m making repairs to the suits. I haven’t gotten down to the lab lately and I’m doing it remotely.” Tony explained with a groan but I ignored him.

I paused in the middle of a little clearing trying to listen for any familiar noises of anyone else. However, I couldn’t hear over Tony’s and Bucky’s griping. I let out a loud snarl escape from my lips and my tails flicked back and forth. The two of them immediately shut up.

I was able to focus on the sounds again and let my ears twist around in all directions. I felt the wind change directions and with it flowed a familiar scent. I whipped my body in that direction and took off after the scent. She was also running, no doubt able to hear me following behind. I was quickly catching up though.

I skidded to a stop as the scent grew heavy. She was staying in one spot. Aggravated noises rumbled in my chest. I couldn’t place where she was. She moved quietly but it was like before I caught up to her she had run in circles to throw my nose off.

“Nat,” I whined, stomping my foot. “Not fair!”

I heard her melodic laugh as she dropped down from a nearby tree and came forward wrapping me in a hug. I hugged back and buried my head in her chest, wrapping my tail around her leg, “You did so good, Kotyonok.” She whispered, kissing my curls, “Who else have you found?”

“Bucky and Tony.” I grumbled the later, “Both loud. Sammy is everywhere. Always singing. Petey is swinging through the trees watching but he doesn’t know I know.” I whispered and giggled.

“So you still have to find Steve, Clint, T’Challa, and technically have to nail Sam down.” Nat hummed, “Honestly the hardest one to find will be T’Challa. Shuri made these noise reduction shoes. Buuuut, I may or may not know of a hideout Clint likes to use.”

My head perked up and we met up with Tony, Bucky, and Shuri. Nat informed them that I could hear Sam from everywhere. As they were talking a shadow of a small bird zoomed across the forest floor, catching my attention. The bird shadow was making loops and was darting into shadows to disappear then reappear out of a different shadow. The same aggravated noises I made earlier escaped and I snuck up on the shadow as it came to hold still. I was about to attack when the stupid thing moved again!

Instead I attacked a fallen tree limb, scratching at it with my claws and holding onto it with my teeth. I heard a whirring sound and looked up and saw a small red bird plane thing. It was swaying side to side like it was dancing. My eyes locked onto it. I rose up from my tree limb readying myself to pounce.

“Don't even think about it sweetheart.” Sam’s voice came from the bird.

“Sam?” I cocked my head at the head at the bird, moving closer, “Can fit in tiny plane?”

“Not really,” he laughed, “His name is Red Wing. He’s my sidekick. Can see things I can’t get my eyes on.”

“But where you?” I asked then heard metal flapping and a thud behind me. I spun around and Sam was wearing large metal wings. “Sam can fly!” I ran over to touch his wings.

“Hey I found you before you found me sweetcheeks.” He laughed as I played with his wings.

“Nuh uh,” I shook my head.

“Yeah I did. That was Red Wing you were chasing.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“No,” I shook my head and matched his stance.

“She’s right Wilson.” Bucky laughed.

“She could hear you all around just couldn’t place you.” Nat agreed, cleaning some dirt off my face.

“Prove it.” He challenged.

“Oh yes wait a minute Mr Postman. Waaaaaait mr postman.” You mimicked the singing he had done earlier. “Ooooooooh, baby love, my baby, I need ya, oh how I need ya. But all ya do is treat me bad.” You mimicked another song he was singing when I had found Bucky.

“Really Sam?” Tony looked at him, “The Marvelettes and the Supremes?”

“They’ve both been stuck in my head.” He said with a simple shrug, “But alright you win this time.”

“Can find Clint now?” I turned to look at Nat, who gave me a soft smile.

“Let’s go kitty kat.” She and held out her hand. I grasped onto her hand and we ran forward ahead of everyone. I’m not sure how long we ran for but we soon came to this little cabin. “This is Clint’s favorite place to hide out. He’s definitely going to be in there.” She whispered softly.

The closer we got to the cabin the more I could hear the soft sounds coming from the things Clint keeps in his ears. The two of us snuck up and peered inside one of the windows and saw Clint sitting on the couch playing on his phone. From where we were we could see that his ear things were sitting on the table beside him.

“He won’t be able to hear you sneaking in. You’d be able to scare him really well.” Nat said, still speaking softly.

“Why can’t hear?” My eyebrows scrunched at the question.

“Maybe we’ll tell you the story another time.” She smiled like she was remembering something.

I nodded and lifted myself over the windowsill, slowly walking up behind the man. His head stayed down the entire time, not looking up at all. I looked back at Nat and saw that the rest of the team had gathered around and Sam held his phone up to record with Shuri recording once again as well. Once at the back of the couch I looked over Clint’s shoulder and saw him playing a game and pouted. He said he didn’t have any games either. I huffed and tapped on his shoulder making him let out the loudest, most feminine scream ever. Everyone at the window started laughing loudly.

“GOD DAMMIT! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” He yelled. He grabbed his ear things and put them back in, “When the fuck did you get in here?”

“LANGUAGE!” The team yelled from the window.

“Clint has games.” I crossed my arms, growling deep in my chest, “Petey said liars pants get fired.”

“My pants aren’t gonna catch fire.” He held out his phone, “But here, have at it kiddo.” I squealed and took his phone, taking over the game he was playing.

“All that’s left is Steve and T’Challa.”

#avengers x reader #avengers #marvel fanfic #tony stark #peter parker #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #t’challa #shuri

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freebooter4ever · 5 years ago

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Eugene's Second Date

AU where Sledge and Snafu meet before the war in 1940 Mobile, Alabama. Eugene and Merriell already had their first date where Merriell surprised him with Eugene's first kiss at the end, and now Eugene is dogging Merriell's steps like a lovesick puppy.

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That night Eugene floats home in a weird euphoria. It's not even necessarily happy, because he's half confused over his own emotions, but he's very joyful about it. He's so out of it he runs the car over his parent's mailbox.

He tells Shelton about this when they meet up for lunch at the lumberyard the next day. Shelton laughs.

"It was dark, I couldn't see a thing," Eugene protests in his defense.

"You're lucky it wasn't a tree," Shelton says. Still grinning. Eugene wonders if Shelton ever stopped grinning since last night.

"I would have seen a tree," Eugene argues.

"You said it was dark…"

"Not dark enough I couldn't see a tree, for goodness sake. I'm not blind."

"You couldn't see a mailbox."

"The height of my family's mailbox lines up almost exactly with the bottom of the car's windshield giving me at most an inch of warning that the damn thing is there."

"Should've let me drive...."

"I'm not a bad driver."

"Never said you weren't but you better let me drive next time just in case. Don't want to go hurting no more innocent mailboxes."

"There's gonna be a next time?" Eugene raises an eyebrow.

Shelton smiles and pauses the conversation to light his cigarette. Eugene turns back to his sketch of the dry docks.

"I'll fix it for you," Shelton drawls.

"Fix what?" Eugene asks distractedly, having already forgotten their conversation in his concentration over his drawing.

"You said it's one of those fancy mailboxes...shaped like a tiny house, yeah?" Shelton asks, "The boss saves the scrap lumber for us temp workers to take home. It'd be easy to get my hands on some small pieces. Make your little house good as new."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure," Shelton looks away from him, out to sea.

Eugene seizes the chance to draw his profile. It doesn't turn out well. He rips the page out of his notebook, crumples it, and tosses it down to the floor of the dock for the gulls to pick apart.

"I've got to go," Eugene says, "Need to get back before I'm missed." He doesn't mention that his class after lunch is woodshop, and how ironic it feels that he's building crooked decorative clocks while Shelton builds the infrastructure needed for warship production. Eugene stands and shoves his journal into his bookstrap.

Shelton hastily gets up to stand beside him, "Missed where?"

"School," Eugene admits. He feels like a child and he knows his embarrassment shows on his face. He can't look at Shelton as he packs up his lunch box and starts to climb down off the dock.

"Eugene," Shelton calls, following him down.

Eugene starts picking his way across the rickety wood. Their lunch spot is one of the ancient docks, probably from the 1800's. It's slowly being stripped away - any useful materials being put to work in the new, bigger, more robust docks.

"You mean to tell me you drove all the way downtown on your lunch break?" Shelton calls out to Eugene's back.

"No," Eugene replies over his shoulder, "I skipped third period so I could bicycle all the way downtown, for my health."

"Gene," Shelton finally catches up to him and grabs his hand, pulling him back.

Eugene gives in. He stops and turns around. Sometimes he wishes Shelton would just quit smiling for once.

Shelton bites his bottom lip, looking at Eugene. "You skipped class for me," he says.

"I did not say that," Eugene protests.

"Sure, Gene," Shelton says, tipping forward into Eugene's space.

Eugene fidgets, slinging his books over his shoulder, "It feels...useless; sitting in class, waiting to be able to do something meaningful. At least here I can see what's happening."

Shelton's expression goes serious then. He licks his lips and tightens his hold on Eugene's hand. "C'mon," he says.

"What?"

"I know what you need," is Shelton's only answer.

Eugene follows his lead. They climb around the docks and duck into the alley between the old waterfront dancehall and a warehouse. And much to Eugene's surprise - although it answers all of Eugene's unspoken wishes - Shelton pushes him up against the brick and kisses him. For a seemingly aloof, sometimes awkward guy, Shelton can be very demanding when he wants to be. And this kiss demands everything. They break apart whenever a car drives by on the busy city street a block away, but otherwise their necking goes uninterrupted.

Eugene's going to miss his fourth period class, for sure.

"I don't see how this is supporting the war effort either," Eugene teases during one break when a car actually parks in front of the alley opening and makes things difficult for them to kiss without being seen.

Shelton laughs. He is leaning languidly on the alley wall across from Eugene, his legs stretched out in front of him. He slides a little farther down the brick and lazily extends one leg until his foot is flat against the opposite wall.

"You're boosting worker morale," Shelton drawls.

"Oh god, don't say it like that," Eugene rolls his eyes and shoves Shelton's foot off the wall with his hip.

"I'm severely lacking in patriotism," Shelton continues, lifting his chin and putting on a fake serious air, "Multiple sessions may be needed to boost..." he flexes his hips and grabs at the baggy crotch of his work overalls in a rude gesture, "...my sagging morale."

"Shut up, Shelton," Eugene grins. He glances down the alley to make sure the car finally left. And then shoves off his side to close the distance between them and flatten Merriell's body against the opposite wall. Pressed against him like this, Eugene can feel Merriell's 'morale' and it is in no danger of sagging. Eugene kisses his neck just to be sure.

"If I boost it too much, we might end up with the opposite effect," Eugene whispers in his ear.

Merriell groans and latches his hands into Eugene's hair. "Oh, aren't you clever," he says glibly. He sounds sarcastic.

Though when Eugene moves to look Merriell in the eye again before locking lips with him once more, Merriell appears to be completely and totally in bliss.

This time if another car stops neither of them notice. Eugene doesn't think he could notice anything except Merriel, as long as Merriel keeps his hands around the back of Eugene's neck, and his knee wedged between Eugene's legs. Luckily they aren't seen. Cause, god, Eugene could kiss Merriell all day and forget about the time.

Fortunately as it turns out, there's plenty of warning when they eventually hear Merriell's name being called.

"Shelton?" a man's voice yells, husky from years of cigarettes, "Get your sorry ass out here, I saw you having a smoke. I need a hand with this."

"Fuck," Shelton breaks their kiss but doesn't push Eugene off.

Eugene groans quietly and presses his nose in the crook of Merriell's neck. He smells like the ocean and sawdust. Eugene wonders what he himself smells like. Probably musty old books.

"Gonna get me in trouble," Shelton smirks and disentangles himself from Eugene's arms. He backs off down the alley and gives Eugene a salute, "Uncle Sam thanks you for your service." And with a parting wink, Shelton jogs around the corner to meet his boss.

Eugene slides down the wall, breathing hard, and sits in the alley to give himself a moment before he goes back to school. It's only been a minute of separation from Merriell's body, and already Eugene's chest is aching terribly with need. Probably not a good sign for the days to come. He predicts a lot of his other responsibilities will fall by the wayside in favor of this.

He returns to the docks for lunch every single day after that. And with lunch always comes kisses that turn out to be addictive.

On the weekend Shelton comes over to Eugene's house. He drives the ugliest old Ford truck with rusted, chipped paint that might have been green at one point. But the engine purrs like a kitten.

Shelton notices Eugene's interest in his truck. He slaps the hood and announces, "I pour all my poker winnings into her."

"You must be shit at poker," Eugene replies.

Shelton laughs and maneuvers around the cab to pop the hood. He proudly displays the gleaming, beautiful engine and shiny parts to Eugene. Eugene makes appropriate admiring noises. He's never seen a car engine so clean that isn't fresh off the line - there's not a single speck of dust in sight.

"All new parts. Machined most of em custom myself," Shelton brags as he runs his hands through his hair and gazes at his vehicle proudly, "Impossible to get anything manufactured nowadays with rationing and shortages."

"How...?" Eugene asks.

"Just good with my hands," Shelton says, turning his face up to Eugene with a shit eating grin.

Eugene pinches Merriell's thigh through the hole in his jeans.

Shelton throws an arm over Eugene's shoulder and traps Eugene's hand between their bodies to deter anymore pinching. He bites his lip and grins with his nose close enough to almost touch Eugene's cheek.

Eugene doesn't dare turn his head. The temptation to kiss Shelton is too great, and his parents are a few short yards away in the house at the top of their driveway. His mom could be watching out the window right now. Eugene's hands tighten his grip on the truck's frame as he leans over the engine, pretending to take a closer look.

"Before he died my dad would collect old junkers and give 'em to me," Shelton explains, "I'd fix em up, get em working, even make em look pretty. Then he'd go and sell em. I never even got a chance to drive any. Only driving practice I ever got was on tractors."

Eugene looks up at him. "Well," he says, "It was worthwhile practice. This truck's beautiful."

Shelton laughs, "Yeah. Her shell may not look pretty, but she'll get me anywhere, guaranteed. And ain't nobody gonna steal her, cause who'd want a rust bucket?"

"If anybody turns their nose up at this truck, they're fools," Eugene tells him.

Shelton grins and squeezes Eugene's hip fondly, "C'mon. Help me unload."

Shelton grabs his toolbox and settles on the ground next to Eugene's knocked over mailbox. He arrays his tools around himself in organized chaos and picks up the mailbox to examine it. Next to him Eugene stacks neat piles of scrap wood from the bed of Shelton's truck.

As Shelton diligently works, Eugene lays down, props his sketchbook up in the grass and sketches.

Occasionally Shelton pauses to lean over and tickle Eugene's ear to get his attention.

"My buddy got his hands on this new synthetic adhesive," Shelton explains as he works, "They're testing it down at the lumberyard. They say it's completely waterproof. But look…" he runs a line of glue along the edge of a block of wood, and another line of glue on the edge of a second block of identical length and width. He clamps the two together, and holds it up in front of Eugene's face, "Give it a few hours and this scrap will be the perfect size for the wall of your splintered mailbox."

"Impressive," Eugene says blandly.

Shelton reaches over to ruffle Eugene's hair, but Eugene blocks him. "Hey, not with glue on your fingers," Eugene protests.

"You don't know enough about woodworking to appreciate my genius," Shelton taunts.

"I do appreciate your genius," Eugene insists as he continues to deflect all of Shelton's attempts to get glue in his hair.

And he shows that appreciation, later, after the mailbox is finished good as new - better than new. Shelton carved a beautiful gingerbread trim and added it to the eaves using his magical blackmarket adhesive. Eugene's mother thanks Shelton by gifting him a basket full of food and fresh baked cornbread. "I still can't believe our boy ran over a mailbox. Sometimes I worry Eugene would lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders," she says to Shelton right in front of Eugene before he leaves, "He spends so much of his time in the clouds."

"It was one accident, mother," Eugene sighs.

Eugene thanks Shelton by riding back with him in the truck, his bicycle waiting for him secure in the bed. He instructs Shelton to pull over after they cross the bridge and he leads him down to the creek. They sit on the wooden trestle underneath the road and kiss until long after the cornbread goes cold. Shelton doesn't seem to mind. Eugene even boosts Merriell's morale to completion crudely with his hand until Merriell is sagging against Eugene's shoulder, murmuring his pleasure.

Eventually they have to return to the park where Shelton lives and pick up Mairzy from the old neighbor lady who watches Merriell's little sister most evenings. Shelton picks flowers from the side of the road and presents them to the old woman as a bouquet. He smiles at her and asks after her own grandkids living two towns over, and Eugene can tell by her response that the old woman cares about both Shelton and Mairzy dearly.

"Let's go into town," Eugene suggests before the three of them walk over to Shelton's house.

"What for?" Shelton asks.

"I was thinking maybe ice cream," Eugene shrugs, "My treat."

Mairzy's eyes bug out of her head. She grabs onto Merriell's arm and swings on his elbow, "Ice cream! For dinner?!" Her imagination explodes and it's written all over the awe in her face.

"You are going to regret ever saying those words," Merriell informs Eugene gravely.

"Consider it a thank you for fixing my mailbox," Eugene replies.

"Thought it was my fault you ran over the damn thing in the first place," Shelton says.

"Ice cream!" Mairzy exclaims desperately, shaking Merriell's arm.

He gives in, feigning reluctance, but he smiles at Eugene over Mairzy's head. "I know just the place," Shelton says.

They don't go into town, they drive across the tracks, metaphorically speaking. Eugene receives odd looks when he climbs out of the truck behind Mairzy. But he schools his nerves and tries to be gracious as he holds the door open for Shelton to go into the ice cream parlor. The parlor is far from new, there's no jukebox, the overhead fans don't function, and as he and Shelton lean up against the clean but cracked tile counter, Eugene knows that he is getting away with this, in a place he doesn't fit in, but if Shelton tried this across town, in a place where any level of brown is too brown, Shelton might not be served.

They buy the largest banana split sundae Eugene can afford and Mairzy carries it proudly, worshipfully with both hands to a booth by the front windows. The window is wide open, with a brand new screen to keep out the bugs. But the music from the ragtag band playing outside on the porch filters through. Shelton slides into the booth next to Mairzy, and Eugene sits across from them. He passes out spoons, and Mairzy dips hers in eagerly to take the first bite. Merriell twirls his spoon in his hand, relaxes in his seat with his arm protectively thrown over the back of the booth, and he grins daringly at Eugene. Eugene digs his spoon into one of the chocolate brownies mixed into the sundae, takes a bite, and grins back.

Mairzy finishes the majority of the sundae. Shelton eats very little, he claims to not have much of a sweet tooth. Though Eugene notes for later reference that when Shelton does take bites he favors the vanilla and the apple crumble and whipped cream on one side of the dish.

When they're done, Mairzy pulls the gigantic bowl closer to her so she can scoop out the melted soupy leftovers with her spoon. Shelton reaches over her head and taps on the window during a break in the music. He asks the band if they know a specific song. The answer is yes, and Merriell slides open the window screen to pass some change through and the band strikes up again. Underneath the table Merriell starts tapping his foot to the beat against Eugene's own. Eugene laughs and jiggles his leg along with the music though he knows he can't hold a rhythm to save his life.

After Mairzy licks the last drop of ice cream off her spoon, she starts talking - mostly pestering her older brother with questions. In response Merriell starts telling stories, and Eugene settles in comfortably, happy to listen.

Eugene can't remember the last time he's spent a more pleasant evening.

When he announces this to Merriell, the other boy gets a highly suspect gleam in his eye, "Who says the night is over?"

Eugene raises his eyebrows in question.

Turns out the carnival is in town.

They park at the edge of the fairgrounds. People swarm in and out of the brightly lit fence. Eugene has to laugh because this vibrant, tacky, loud place is the last place he'd expect Merriell to go willingly. Sure enough, before they climb out of the truck Merriell leans in close over Mairzy's head and quietly explains, "the things I put up with for her." He grins and squeezes Eugene's hand tight, including Eugene in the conspiracy to make Mairzy happy. Merriell opens the door, Mairzy hops out, and he follows, giving Eugene a quick peck on the lips first.

As the three of them approach the gate, Mairzy starts skipping with extra sugar-induced energy, forcing Shelton to keep a tight grip on her hand for fear of losing her in the crowd. Eugene is running low on cash, so they don't have much money to spend at the ticket booth, but together they have enough to buy Mairzy a handful of rides.

Her favorite is the swings, with the whip-it a close second. Eugene and Merriell are left to lean up against the ride railings and wave and yell everytime she goes around. They use the tight press of the crowd to stand closer together than they might otherwise get away with. Merriell is pressed against Eugene's side, smiling and glowing and looking more handsome than Eugene's seen him before.

As luck would have it, the two of them come upon another couple with a child at the line for the ferris wheel. The four of them put Mairzy and the other little girl safely in a seat, which leaves Eugene and Merriell able to share one themselves. Shelton throws an arm tight over Eugene's shoulder, and traces patterns into Eugene's arm with his finger. He sneaks a quick kiss to the side of Eugene's head before anyone can notice.

Merriell spends his last coins at one of the midway games. Being preternaturally gifted at aim, Merriel wins handily and points to one of the stuffed bears hanging on the wall. The bear is wearing a miniature Marines campaign hat with a kerchief tied around its neck.

"No, this is for Eugene," Merriell announces as he hands the teddy bear to the boy beside him, "Something to hold onto at night." Merriell winks.

Eugene can feel himself turning bright red with embarrassment. To cover it, he steps up to the plate, pays the man behind the counter, and beats Merriell's score by more than a few points. Merriel laughs, and licks his lips while staring at Eugene in a way that tells Eugene he will be in trouble next time Merriell gets him alone. Eugene gifts the slightly bigger bear he wins to Mairzy, who is delighted and proclaims Eugene her new favorite person.

With their wallets thoroughly depleted the three walk back towards the carnival gate. Mairzy's sugar high finally crashes - whether by choice or not, hard to tell, but she convinces Merriell to carry her piggyback the rest of the way.

Eugene is happy to leave. Shelton has been riling him up for fun all night, and Eugene is desperate to get him back for it.

Until they pass a final booth just outside the gate erected on the side of the gravel path.

The military recruitment posters are impossible to miss. The lights trained on the booth are brighter than the entire carnival and there's a small cadre of beautiful girls in sequined costumes handing out flyers. A couple men in service uniforms stand behind the table answering questions posed by curious onlookers. Eugene can't help but stare.

A hand on the small of his back jolts Eugene out of his thoughts. Merriell leans in close and whispers, "Do I need to be jealous of the women...or the men?" He looks into Eugene's eyes and Eugene is surprised by the honest vulnerability reflected back at him.

Shelton isn't exaggerating or teasing, he is self-conscious. And making his jealousy plain.

"Neither," Eugene responds firmly, risking a quick squeeze of Merriell's hand.

"You want to go talk to them?" Merriell asks. He coaxes Mairzy off his back and guides her to sit down on a nearby park bench.

"No," Eugene shakes his head, "No, I'd be...shamed."

Merriell's expression turns cold and haughty, "Ain't got nothing to be ashamed of," and he marches confidently over to the table on his own.

Eugene hesitates. He hangs back to watch as Shelton turns on his smile, strides straight up to the men in uniform, and shakes their hands. Eugene can't hear what they're saying, but the military men are all smiles too, and everyone is clearly getting along well.

Eugene burns with jealousy.

He's about to shyly sneak away, not too far that Shelton couldn't find him after, but far enough he can't be seen. Then a third man joins the table. This man is older, and in the Marine Corps - there's no mistaking that distinctive hat. He's tall, and broad shouldered with a little bit of a barrel chest - enough to cut an imposing figure and not enough to distract from the silhouette of the uniform. He's clean shaven, and regimented, and he greets Shelton warmly but without a smile. This man takes his job seriously.

If Eugene could be anything, he'd be a Marine. He wants that pride - to know he is making a decisive choice about which side of history he'll be on.

"Gene?" Shelton's voice asks carefully.

Eugene looks to his right and discovers at some point while Eugene was daydreaming Shelton returned and ended up directly beside his elbow. "I'm fine," Eugene says, "Let's go."

"Don't you want to...I could introduce you…?" Shelton gestures to the table.

"I said, let's go," Eugene repeats. He picks up Mairzy this time and carries her back to the parking lot.

Shelton nods once, "Okay, Eugene," and follows.

The car ride home is silent. Mairzy falls asleep between them, completely oblivious to the tension. Her head is propped against Shelton's leg and her feet are on top of Eugene's lap.

Shelton's truck rolls a few feet into Eugene's driveway and Eugene signals for him to stop.

"Do you mind getting out for a minute?" Eugene asks softly.

"Sure thing," Shelton says without emotion in his voice.

They both slide out of the cab and leave Mairzy sleeping soundly on the seat. Shelton lingers on his side of the truck, forcing Eugene to come to him. Eugene takes Merriell's face in his hands and tilts his head back for a kiss. At first Merriell responds, grabbing Gene's wrists and pulling him closer. But then he shoves away.

It hurts. Not physically, but Eugene can feel it like an ache - even worse than the ache days ago when he wanted Merriell but didn't know how to act on it.

"Gene, I can't," Shelton whispers harshly.

"What, because I was admiring the uniform of some Marine I don't even know? Are you really that jealous?" Eugene demands an answer.

"What?" Shelton asks, "No!"

"Then why not?" Eugene exclaims.

"Because I'm not gonna be someone's shame," Shelton says in a rush, "Not again."

"Why would I be ashamed of you?" Eugene is confused.

"You said…" Shelton's nerves get the better of him and he can barely talk straight with his accent, "You said you wouldn't talk to the recruiting officers because you were ashamed."

"Yeah, ashamed of myself, knowing that they'd never take some skinny kid with a heart defect who gets winded climbing stairs," Eugene says irritably.

"You weren't...thinking of us…?" Shelton is skeptical, "Us, being together?"

"Didn't even cross my mind," Eugene says, "Though now that I do think about it, probably a good idea not to bring it up at recruitment."

Shelton laughs.

Eugene takes a step closer, takes Merriell's big hands in his. "Can't think of any reason why I'd ever be ashamed of you."

Merriell laughs again, "More fool on you."

"If anything, I'm the shameful one," Eugene argues.

Merriell grins and scoffs, "You? The son of the doctor?"

"Yeah, the one who, if we get into this war, is going to be stuck back here, looking on from afar, waiting. In agony of not knowing what's happening, no doubt," Eugene says, mostly serious though he likes that Merriell is smiling again, "I'll be left with nothing to do except track battle movements like I'm a kid playing soldier again."

"You won't be alone," Merriell says meaningfully and takes a step forward.

Eugene isn't really registering what Merriell is saying. He's too focused on the fact that finally, finally Merriell is kissing him again, passionately. He slips his fingers through Merriell's belt loops and tugs him close. Sometimes while they're kissing Eugene thinks about bringing Merriell home for reasons beyond fixing mailboxes. A stuffed teddy bear is nice and soft, but he thinks Merriell would be a better fit in his bed. He can imagine holding Merriell all night long, and it's still not enough. His imagination doesn't go much further than that, but he knows if he lets his thoughts run wild they would. Easily.

Just one slip over the edge and…

"Wait," Eugene pulls away, "Why won't I be alone?"

Merriell looks wry, "Well, I'm not planning on enlisting anytime soon."

"You're not?" Eugene extends his arms to put distance between them.

"No," Merriell laughs.

"I don't see how that's funny," Eugene says defensively.

Merriell shrugs, looking confused.

Eugene lets go of him and opens the truck door to pull his bear out of the cab. He clutches the teddy tight to his chest and asks, "You're not going to enlist?"

"No!" Shelton confirms, more certain and stubborn this time. He's not laughing anymore.

Eugene turns around and starts walking up the hill, "Good night, Shelton."

"Gene," Merriell grabs his hand and pulls him back.

Eugene twists out of his grip, "I can't believe you're not planning on enlisting. They predict the United States will enter war soon - and not just as an arsenal for the Allies this time. The question is no longer if, but when. We're going to need every able man." He gets right up into Shelton's face and glares, "Have you even seen the latest news reels from Europe?"

"Don't watch 'em," Shelton says. He's gone emotionless again, and that irritates Eugene more than anything.

"You don't care?" Eugene scoffs, "You don't care, you're going to let other men die for you while you stay here and, what...build tiny houses? Kiss me in back alleys for the war effort?"

"Eugene…"

"I can't enlist. Even if I was of age I'd be declined because of my health. Do you know what it's like to be so goddamned useless? And you...you…" Eugene loses control of his own thoughts.

"I'm not dying for nobody but myself," Shelton says.

Eugene stares at him with stunned shock. "You're fucked up, Shelton," Eugene says. He turns his back on the other boy and walks away.

"You ashamed of me, then?" Shelton calls to him in a mocking voice.

Eugene lets himself into the house, but he lingers at the front window. He pushes himself into the curtains and presses his ear to the cold glass. The truck engine starts, nearly silent even in the quiet night. Eugene buries his face in the top of the teddy bear's head and tries not to cry. He sits there till he hears the tires rumble across the bridge. And then he goes to his room, kicks off his shoes, and falls into bed.

He does cry then. But it's not for Shelton. It's for himself, and his own failings. And it feels almost guilty.

tag list @xmxisxforxmaybe

#sledgefu #bad germs

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loveylangdon · 5 years ago

Text

Satisfied // pt. 3

Word count 2.4k+

a/n: thank you guys for requesting! this is a little filler I'm already working on part 4 and it should be up Sunday/Monday love you all please leave feedback it’s greatly appreciated I hope you love this Xx

masterlist

pt. 1 - pt. 2

*not my gif credit to owner*

----

y/n p.o.v.

“He’s still calling me” Connor chuckles putting his phone on silent and making his way over to sit next to you on his couch

“Well let him, he’s your boss isn’t he, shouldn’t you be answering that?” You question up at him and he raises his eyebrows at you

“Yah he’s calling me from another country because he wants me to work for him right now, while we’re on a break” Connor chuckles raising his eyebrow at you

You shrug your shoulders “I don’t know creativity never sleeps right?” You joke at him

Booking a flight to California is exactly what you needed a seaside vacation away from Shawn and Brian. It’s been a week and having Connor be in the loop about everything that was going on he was more than happy to let you stay at his place in Laguna. Luckily for you, it was far enough from Los Angeles to not draw attention to “Shawn’s new up and coming videographer UCLA student.”

You and Connor have been locally chilling and only going into Los Angeles when he had projects or work which he gladly let you tag along to. He successfully kept your mind off of anything Canadian.

“When are you going to talk to him?” Connor asks moving your legs that were stretched out on the couch and placing them over his so he can sit down next to you.

“Never? Is that a possibility?” You chuckle “I can’t believe I let myself think I was in the wrong, I genuinely thought what I did was horrible and yes it was horrible but I let myself sit there and hate myself for something I don’t even remember when he goes out on tour and sleeps with anyone he wants too” you groan in your hands and lay back against the armrest. Connor is rubbing your legs that rest on his lap trying to soothe you.

“You know what I think?” Connor asks and you look over at him

“What do you think I should to Con?” You asked genuinely and you see him smile a secure smile which makes you happy

Connor being the baby of the tour always got treated like the baby, it was all in good fun but one night he confided in you that the jokes hurt. He didn’t want to be seen as the baby and that he was way more than capable of doing the work yet everyone treated him as if he couldn’t pull his weight. He worked so hard to make sure everything was perfect having backups for his backups. He loved being able to feel needed and like all his hard work wasn’t for nothing, yes the fans praised him but he didn’t believe it was for his work ethic but more so for his California looks.

On tour you and Connor started having heart to hearts, he confided in you and you confided in him bringing him back to his feeling of being needed and knowing his opinion mattered somewhere that he was being taken seriously.

“I think you need to talk to Brian and figure out what happened before you can talk to Shawn” Connor spoke to you staring into your eyes so you knew he was being serious

Huffing you pulled your legs from his lap and turned over so you could lay your head on his thighs and look up at him

“Brian, Con that's the answer is Brian? If he wanted to talk to me about it he would’ve but he doesn’t because he doesn’t care it only matters that he got laid” you huff again and Connor smiles down at you “Don’t give me I know ‘I’m right look it's annoying” you huff

“He does care y/n he came back and shoved me into a closet and told me what happened, he didn’t tell Shawn because he was scared he would beat the shit out of him”

“ha unlikely Shawn isn’t capable of throwing a punch” you chuckled along with Connor

“Talk to Brian clear the air. Nothing is going to be resolved or changed if you don’t talk to Brian first. There will always be what if’s in yours and Shawn's relationship if you don’t talk to Brian.”

Groaning you know he’s right but you really didn’t want to talk to anyone. Quite frankly if Brian wanted to talk about it he could’ve but he didn’t he went back on the tour like nothing happened.

“Baby Brash when did you get to smart” you huff up at him to see him throw his head back laughing.

“Always been, none of you guys listen to the little guy” he half smiles at you and you move so your face is in his stomach and he’s holding the back of your head playing with your hair “Do you want to do anything today? I have to help Sam shoot a campaign in Malibu but that's not till around sunset, we can go to the Palisades and do some window shopping, grab lunch and ice cream before we head down to Sams?” He suggests

Looking up at him you see him smirking down at you

“What,” he asks

“Nothing blue eyes” you laugh and sit up next to him crossing your legs “Thank you for everything Connor seriously you’re young you should be out living it up while you’re home and you’re here with me making sure I'm okay I appreciate it” you pull him into a hug

“You make it sound like your so old! You’re only a year older than me” he laughs and pulls away “you’re like my sister why wouldn’t I be here to make sure you’re okay” he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and gets up from the couch “lets go lazy we have window shopping to do” he extends his hand out so he can pull you up from the couch to get ready for the afternoon together.

——

“What do you want for lunch,” Connor asks looking at you clinging to his arm with an ice cream cone in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. You look at him with wide eyes

Furrowing your eyebrows “was this not lunch Connor Brashier?” You ask tilting your cone towards his letting out a laugh

“Food y/n we need food”

“Can we get coffee first?” You look up at him

“You’re ridiculous, yes we can get coffee first well why don’t we just find a cafe then?” He asks pulling out his phone after finishing his gelato. He moves you guys to the side of the sidewalk out of the way while he searches for a lunch spot.

Leaning your shoulder on Connor's bicep you sighed in content eating your gelato. You guys spent the early afternoon walking around the Palisades ‘window’ shopping which turned into minimal shopping in a cute boutique, to getting gelato and just walking around. Connor basically letting you do whatever you wanted with him trailing next to you letting you get your mind off of everything.

Looking down at his phone you saw him swipe away a notification from Shawn

“You still not talking to him?” You ask finishing your gelato

“I talk to him but about work Andrew has sent me, I’m on break he shouldn’t be bothering me” he rolls his eyes when four more texts come through swiping them away “Oh and he’s asked about you” he exits the map he’s on and locks his phone walking in the direction in which you assume is the cafe

Humming in interest you follow along after throwing your trash away. You spot the cute cafe and it wasn’t even a 10 minute walk.

You and Connor have been shopping and exploring Laguna and Los Angeles when he has to work on something spending days in the cities eating gelato and drinking copious amounts of ice coffee before you guys go home and watch movies and call it a night. Connor hasn’t left your side once and it's sweet.

Opening the cafe door for you he grabs your shopping bags to hold while you grab the menus and sit down at a table close to the window looking out into the small shopping centre. It's cozy inside and gives off a homey vibe that fills you with warmth. There's probably a handful of customers scattered all along the place leaving you and Connor to yourselves. Connor sat your bags down next to him as he took a seat across from you.

“Coffee first or food and then coffee,” Connor asks opening the menu you handed him

“I want to say coffee first but I know you’ll say food, you win this time Brashier” you look over the menu at him and he’s chuckling looking at the menu shaking his head

It was too late when you saw someone approach your table, the one person you didn’t want to see in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Huffing in annoyance after you made eye contact with Shawn who had an emotion you couldn’t identify flood his features you looked back down at your menu.

“what? what's wrong?” Connor asked looking up from his menu seeing distress dance across your features with annoyance. His back was towards Shawn so you knew he had no idea, you were about to answer when Shawn spoke up

“Tiny, y/n what are you guys doing out here,” Shawn asked shoving his hands in his jean pockets his calm, collected demeanor gone

“We were leaving right Connor,” you ask looking at him whose eyes go wide looking between you and Shawn, going to stand up Connor scrambled to his feet too.

You exited before you had the chance to hear what they were saying to each other. Standing outside looking through the window you saw Connor pat Shawns shoulder and grab your bags and make his way outside following you out of the cafe.

As soon as Connor walked out of the cafe you grab your bags from him and wrapped your arm around his bicep again leaning your head on his shoulder already walking in the opposite direction of which you came “Who does he think he is, seriously”

“he was just saying hi” Connor shrugged looking down at you

You stopped walking pulling your arm from him “He didn’t even say hi Con he automatically went into ‘what are you doing here’ god the nerve he has” you huffed as Connor laughed at your impression of Shawn

“Y/n” you hear come from behind you not even having to turn around to know who’s voice it was “can we talk?”

You turn around slowly to see Shawn. Taking him in fully you realized he looks defeated, he had bags under his eyes and his hair wasn’t clean curly it was fluffy meaning he had been running his hands through it too many times or he hasn’t showered in a couple of days. His skin tone was looking grey and you could tell he was exhausted. He cleared his throat and brought you back into reality, you looked back up to his face and he wore a small smile

Shaking your head to get rid of your fuzzy Shawn induced brain you spoke up clearing your throat “Me and Con have lunch plans and he has to shoot later, we kind of had the day planned out” you look up at him slowly nodding your head and see his eyes glaze over

“oh yah, um how about I meet you at your hotel later? Maybe we can talk then” he tries again and runs his hands through his curls tugging on them and you feel Connor tense next to you

“I-“

“Please” Shawn chokes out softly looking at you like he’s never looked at you before and your heart breaks a little. He didn’t deserve this.

Cleaning your throat you look at Connor who nods his head subtly “um I'm staying at Connors in Laguna we only came out here for his Shoot” you close your eyes already picturing the shock and hurt that dances over his features while his mind jumps to conclusions. You open your eyes to see just that shock, hurt and anger. You can see his mind going a mile a minute while his gaze goes hard towards Connor.

“Shawn” Connor starts ready to defend himself but Shawn cuts him off

“Shut it, Brashier, I’ve been texting you calling you trying to get you to help me find her and you’ve hidden her to keep her to yourself.” He starts raising his voice and you see the vein in his neck get prominent “you know what fuck you, Brashier.” he scoffs “we all know you have a crush on her maybe she’ll be as easy as she was for Brian and let you have fun for a night if you haven’t already” he stares hard at you smirking knowing he hit a nerve, rolling his eyes he makes his way pushing in-between yours and Connors interlocked arms walking past you

“Fuck you Shawn” you yell at him anger radiating off of you. He didn't even turn around.

How dare he, you don’t realize you’re standing there visibly shaking in anger until Connor tugs on your hand and you don’t see Shawn anywhere having walked off already

“y/n I can-” Connor starts off looking down at the floor quickly when you make eye contact with him

You interrupt him by placing your hands on either side of his neck making him look at you “Connor you have nothing, nothing to apologize for okay, I’m sorry he said anything if its true it wasn’t his secret to tell and that's not fair he said it out of anger.” You look at him and see him nodding his head “Let's go get lunch yah? And we can talk about it or we don’t have to it can wait till later” you smile at him and see him breathe out a sigh of relief

Connor runs a hand through his blonde hair “Lunch?” He looks at you with a dopey smile and sad eyes

“Please, I’m starving” you grab his hand and squeeze it as a form of reassurance he squeezes it back as you wrap your arm around his bicep again head resting on his shoulder as he places a kiss on your head.

This is something else that would need to be discussed outing Connor. Shawn wasn’t making wanting to talk to him any easier on himself. Hoping wherever Shawn was he was satisfied with the deeper hole he dug himself in.

---

a/n: thank you guys for requesting a part 3 there will be a part 4 this was kinda a filler to fuel to the fire thank yall so much. don't forget to leave feedback like and reblog all that fun stuff it’s very much appreciated, my inbox is always open Xx

taglist: @anyasthoughts @haileyofthefandoms @winterin127 @ucanttakemyyouth @turtoix @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @shawn-youth @unsolvedhearts

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn x reader #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes blrub #connor brashier x you #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes imagine

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crewhonk · 5 years ago

Text

Bet (3/4)

Summary: Spirit Week begins at Midtown High and YN and Bucky are the most competitive

Words: 3.9K

Warnings: butt touching, hufflepuff bashing, hufflepuff pride, (for Gio, harry potter references)

Previous Part

_____________________________

The week started with a new agency in the air of Midtown High, not only for the students, who arrived in their third-period classes with a new gusto in their step but also the teachers— two specifically.

YN YLN and Bucky Barnes opened their Literature and Physics classes with no books, no pens and all eyes on them.

“Okay, guys,” YN said, closing the doors. “We’ll be doing classwork only on Tuesday and Thursday this week as you know it is spirit week.” She smiled as Michelle looked put out and placed her book back into her backpack. “I haven’t graded your journals from the summer yet, but they will be done at some point.” The class laughed as she went on.

“So, We’re a part of the yellow team this year, which means I need each of you to bring me as many yellow things to fill up this class. By the end of the week, we’re going to be given points based on how many theme-colour things we have which will help us win. Also, any non-perishable food items count as double points, as there is going to be a food donation bin.” She said, taking off her cardigan and throwing it over her chair.

She watched with amusement as several of the students in her class started taking off sweaters and pulling out anything yellow from their bags as they could, placing it on her desk.

“Nope. Put your socks back on, Ray.” She laughed, watching as the class (including Rayshaun) giggled to themselves playfully. Michelle put her hand in the air, and YN smiled before nodding at her.

“What’s up, Michelle?”

“Well, none of our previous teachers cared too much about spirit week— why do you care so much?” She asked and the rest of the class fell into silence.

“Well,” I have a bet with your really attractive physics teacher, “I think it’s a really good way to get excited about something at school. I know how much it sucks sometimes so this is something I want you guys to get excited about. And, since it’s your senior year, I’ll make sure if you guys win, you’ll be getting not only a decent prize from Principal Danvers but a sizeable prize from myself.” There was an excited chittering around the class and YN smirked, knowing now that her class would pull themselves together just a bit.

There was a knock on the door, and YN looked up to see none other than Bucky, poking his head in. He looked her up and down, drinking in her bare arms and shorter skirt and licking his lips before putting a cocky smirk on his face and raising his eyebrows.

“Ready to lose, YLN?” He crooned and the class fell silent. His group was behind him, giggling quietly to each other.

“Not really, no— it’s why I’m not going to.” YN shrugged easily, walking towards the door, much to the thrill of her kids. He straightened up when she stopped in front of him, one hand on the door and the other on her hip.

“You sure about that, Ms YLN? I have a pretty good group with me. Smart. Determined.” He licked his lips as a smile pulled over her face— evil, taunting, teasing.

“I don’t need to overcompensate for mine, Barnes. Get ready to lick your wounds.” She hummed, and before he could make anything inappropriate, she shut the door in his face and turned around to her class.

“You guys ready to show him what you’re made of?” She asked, and was greeted with a wall of cheers and laughs and excited chatting.

Good.

___________________

The first challenge was pretty easy— yellow. By the time the third period rolled around on Tuesday that week, YN’s class was filled to the brim. There were flowers littering every window sill and covering her desk. In clear bins, sat piles of clothes and shoes and (clean) socks. There were two yellow bikes by the door and there were a few yellow blankets and pillows over the couches of her class. Adding with the windows open, the soft autumn breeze and city ambience, YN YLN’s classroom as slowly becoming the brightest, happiest class in the school.

They had been reading together again, today and what she had said about excitement about Spirit Week lifting her students' spirits soon came to be true. They were happier entering the class, and they participated more in their work. She marked their journals easily and lightly, and handed them back at the end of class, glowing with pride over the fact that there wasn’t a mark under a B-.

YN practically skipped to the staff room, yellow skirt flowing around her knees. Her hair was loose for the first time today— the top half in a bun and the lower half bouncing with each step. She entered the staff room and walked to the fridge, pulling her lunch and strolling easily to the table where Natasha (wearing red), Sam (also wearing yellow), Steve (wearing blue), and finally Bucky who looked dashing in his green t-shirt.

“I’ll have you guys know,” she said, smiling and setting her bag on the table. “My class is so going to win. Have you seen my classroom?”

Natasha made a disappointed noise in the back of her throat and glared at the food YN took out. “Yeah, what the hell is up with that? It’s like the sun from Teletubbies shit all over your classroom.”

“Team spirit, Natasha.” She said, faking sympathy. Sure, Nat’s head may be red, but her classroom was not.

“It’s very Hufflepuff of you to be so proud of the colour yellow, you know.” Bucky piped up, a cock-sure smirk on his face.

YN’s jaw dropped and she glared at him. “I’ll have you know I’m Slytherin sun with a Gryffindor moon and I take great offence to that, thank you very much.”

He leaned back and laughed, hair falling over his shoulders and hands on his stomach. Despite her playful irritation, YN couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her stomach over the idea of him wanting to take her out. Him wanting to make her smile, and make her turn into a pool of putty over dinner.

“Hufflepuffs are… nice.” He said, continuing to chuckle and YN threw a napkin at him.

“You’re going down, Barnes.” She grumbled, a smile on her face despite the threat.

“Maybe so.” He winked and YN’s face flushed bright red at the connotation of his words. There was a period of silence before Steve cleared his throat.

“Um, what the hell just happened?”

_____________________

By Wednesday, YN felt as if she was drowning in yellow. Her kids had picked up the slack of most other classes, and she heard from Laura as the class settled down that the only real competition they had was from Mr. Barnes and his physics class.

“Why is he the only competition, Ms. YLN?” Corey asked with a smirk, and YN pretended to not know the answer.

“I really don’t know.” She answered quickly and the kids in front of her rolled their eyes in apparent unison. “What?” She laughed.

“Come on, Ms. YLN. He chirps you in the hallway, he interrupts class to judge us, he’s been asking us how we’ve been so good if we run into him. With all due respect, he likes you!” Flash pointed out and YN wanted nothing more but for the ground under her to swallow her whole.

“No, he doesn’t.” She said, sternly. The hardness of her voice was betrayed by the heat of her cheeks.

“He’s as jocky as they come and he flirts like a jock.” Michelle said, not bothering to raise her hand and YN coughed. It was covered by the sounds of protest from the student athletes in her class, however, so nobody paid her too much mind.

“Anyways!” She interrupted the class and they all looked at her. “Have you guys heard what the challenge is yet?”

“You don’t know?” Asked a voice from the back of the class and she only shook her head.

“We’re supposed to be getting a card and materials from Mrs. Danvers soon, so I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Just as she finished, a knock sounded from the door, and YN walked quickly over to answer it, revealing Bucky, who was repping his class with green sneakers. He had his arms full of two of every material and YN raised her eyebrows.

“What’s all this?” She asked, and she took the materials he was holding with his left arm— all yellow.

“Your materials for the challenge. Oh! And the card is in my pocket.” He smirked and YN handed the materials to the closest student. After shutting the classroom door and stepping out, she reached into his hoodie pocket and when she came up empty handed, she glared at him.

“Back pocket, doll.” He murmured, voice quiet and out of reach of prying ears. She glared harder and grit her teeth despite the red heat flooding her face.

“That is innapropraite, Mr. Barnes.” She chastised and he only shrugged.

“Okay, I guess the plans are for me to decide then!” He started backing away, and YN followed him, shutting the door behind her.

“Give me the card, Barnes.” She demanded, holding her hand out and waiting for him to stop acting like a child.

“I’m thinking of bowling. Or roller skating. Then a nice dinner by the harbour and then maybe, if I’m lucky and pick the date properly, a kiss goodnight. But, I think it would be more satisfying if I won justly, you know?” He asked, turning around and walking slowly down the hall. In his back pockets, she saw that there was one yellow card and one green card in each pocket and nope, she definitely didn’t notice how round his ass was.

“Like, I like to earn my win.” He continued, and YN darted forward (and very careful not to touch his jean-clad butt) and picked the card out of his pocket. He spun around quickly, and she held up the envelope in between her fingers, smirk on her face at his aghast expression.

“I don’t bowl, Barnes. I think a walk in the gardens with some coffee and then dinner, and then, if you behave, a kiss goodnight. Have fun losing.” She smiled and pranced back to her door, looking back at him to see his jaw on the floor and a flush on his cheeks. Did his hair seem a little messy, or was that her imagination.

With a wink, she closed the door and turned to her class who were waiting for a report with bated breath.

“I got the card. We have to win this, guys.” She said, holding up the card to show the and there was a moment of silence before the class got up and burst into action.

________________________

There was a pile of clay, a few tubs of dollar store paint, and a long sheet of yellow poster paper. The card read three things;

Make a mascot

Make a poster

Make a cheer

Wait for further instruction.

So, she let the class divided themselves evenly into three groups, and there was a steady stream of chanting, music and chatter through the hour and a half they had left. She watched them, moving from group to group slowly and commenting on what the students were working on. She had even knelt to the floor and taken a paintbrush to help the Poster Team neaten up their letters and accidentally smudged pink paint on her cheek (much to the amusement of her kids).

The chant was going well— the drama kids had all gathered and written lyrics easily and were now coming up with choreography that YN had to tell them to simplify for the rest of the class. They did, and when they did a full run through for the class at the end of the period, they were greeted with cheers.

Next, the mascot sculpture made YN howl with laughter. Michelle had taken lead on this one, and YN glowed with pride at how quickly Michelle had come out of her bubble in the past three days. Everyone had followed her lead, coming up with designs and colour scheme for the clay they were working with, and when YN was called over to check up on it, a wide smile spread across her face.

“A badger?”

“Well, since our colour is yellow, and so is Hufflepuffs from Harry Potter, we thought it would be cute to make our little guy a badger!” Alice piped up and the rest of the team seemed to be in full agreement.

“And you guys all agreed?” She asked the rest of the group and they nodded their heads.

“Well, we thought everyone would make something that dealt with their colours, so this would stand out,” Ray said.

“I like it, guys. Wait, hold on.” She said, rushing to her desk and grabbing a spool of yellow ribbon from one of her kid's moms’ sewing kit. She placed it on the desk and pointed at it lazily.

For when the paint and clay dries maybe we can make him a scarf or something!” She smiled and two of the girls watching and working on their biology homework beside Michelle who was working on the badger ‘awe’d’ loudly.

She returned to her desk, then and saw a text from Bucky. Looking up at her class to see they were all occupied by one thing or another, she unlocked her phone to see a sculpture of a snake coiled around something that looked like a trophy base.

‘Slytherins are the superior house, and it’s going to crush your little yellow badgers.’

‘oh, barnes you have no idea what’s coming. excited for the gardens : ).’

________________________

For the next two days, YN was sure to keep her blinds and doors shut and locked while she wasn’t in the class. The yellow and banners and sculpture were making the room seem small and bright and she wanted to keep it a secret— a surprise so she could see the devastation on Bucky’s face.

On Friday, she was already in her class when the periods changed, and she watched in amazement as five kids walked in with shopping carts— half of which were full with as many yellow foods and food packages as they could buy.

“We’re going to put them in the donation box!” Flash smiled as YN covered her mouth.

“Guys, how much did this cost you?” She asked warily, tears in her eyes about how much she adored her class.

“Nothing! Flash, Carly and Samantha all told their parents about what was going on and they bought it all with their credit cards!” Laura piped up and YN coolant help but jump up and down.

“Guys! You are so good and great and you’re blowing my minds this week. Even if we lose today, I’m so, so, so proud of you all for everything you’ve done.” She cooed and they all preened at her praise. After a moment, she wiped the corners fo her eyes and clapped her hands.

“Okay, so we’re going to be called down to the courtyard soon, but we should start loading up the food into one cart so we have room for everything else we can’t carry.” She instructed and began helping them fill the carts with clothes and blankets and food and everything yellow that filled her room. She even took some books off of her personal bookshelf and threw them in.

They were called down soon enough, and with Michelle and Herbert the Badger leading the train, she walked down to the centre court and met the rest of the school. There were spots designated for each class, and she found it hard to fit all of her things in the one spot they were given. Flash had written on a piece of paper that the cart of food belonged to them and placed it over by the donation spot.

YN was over the moon about her class. The other classes were gathered near their spots, and at most could only fill two of her five-plus shopping carts. She was over the moon until Bucky’s class joined them.

His class seemed to have had the same idea with their five shopping carts full of green and boxes of things. They made their way to the spit across from YN, and YN wanted to smack the smirk right off Bucky’s face.

“Nice badger, YLN. Very Hufflepuff.” He smiled, and a few of the class jeered playfully.

“We’re proud to be Hufflepuffs, you know!” She smirked back. “I see you don’t have a cart for donations? Pity.” She pouted at him and his eyes flittered over her haul, and his eyes squinted.

“I only see four carts.” He said, and she pointed towards the donations box. His eyes widened and his shoulders slumped when he saw the mountain of yellow food beside the box and he looked to curse himself under his breath.

“Donation items are with double points, did you know that?” She crooned and her class watched the exchange gleefully.

“Fine. Okay, sure— but we still have the outdoor activities to do, you know. You can’t really do too much in a skirt, can you?” He tried to tease and she picked up her backpack laying by the wall.

“I can, but I did bring pants for this very occasion, Barnes.” She smirked and his cheeks darkened. Of course, he thought as she pulled out a pair of tight-looking leggings. Of course, she would know that it would distract him.

“May the best person win.”

_________________________

They were ushered out onto the race track as the TA’s stayed back and counted the teams' items, adding up the points. The Office workers would also be staying back to grade and judge the sculptures and banners. Principal Danvers greeted them as they walked out, and explained the stations they would be at. There would be an egg-race, a potato-sack race, a rocket launch accuracy challenge (bottle rockets provided), a set of beach volleyball (three sets, best out of three), and finally a performance for Danvers of their cheer.

The teams were numbered off, and four to. Station they set off to their stations, and the kids were overjoyed to see that YLN and Barnes were paired along with Stark and Lang.

“You guys aren’t allowed to tear each other's throats out, okay?” Steve mumbled to both of you as you passed.

“Or kiss in front of the kids.” Scott piped up and YN laughed.

“Who said anything about kissing, huh?” Bucky barked and YN looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh come on,” Scott said simply, turning back to his group.

“Are we really that obvious?” Bucky asked YN and she could have facepalmed at his adorable oblivion.

______________________

“One, Two, Three… GO!” Shouted the school counsellor, Wanda and ran quickly out of the way of the charging kids. The classes had been divided in two for each challenge, and since Bucky and YN’s classes were both made of 25, they joined the smaller half and cheered not he current group who were sprinting across a section fo field trying to not knock their egos off of their spoons. The relay went quickly, as the half that just went seemed to be comprised largely of the student athletes.

Steve’s class had won that round, YN coming next followed by Bucky and Scott. YN simply smirked and patted Bucky’s shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s okay, champ. There’s something that comes from being a loser, I’m sure.” She hummed and he shoved her arm away from him with a smile on his face.

The next station was the bottle rockets, and of course, Bucky’s team came out on top, and YN’s team came out on the bottom. He patted her head and she smacked his arm.

“You’re going to look so cute in bowling shoes, YLN.”

The next round was volleyball, and it was styled like a tournament. Thankfully, YN had the most volleyball players in this round, and they won by a small margin next to Scotts class.

Next was the potato sack races, and YN found herself competing against none other than Bucky. They were up next, both Peter and Michelle hopping next to each other and laughing at each other loudly. YN and Bucky were screaming encouragement at them and as they arrived at the same time, YN jumped into he sack and pulled it around her waist.

“I’ll go easy on you, okay do— YLN?” Bucky said helping Peter out of his sack and getting into it. She huffed out a breath and stood fully.

“Don’t you dare go easy on me, Barnes.” She snarled competitively and gave a great leap forward. She heard Bucky curse behind her and start himself and by the time that she had met the end and jumped three times to the end, Bucky had caught up with her.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He huffed, leaping with great effort beside her. The cheering of their classes grew louder as the approached them and YN only jumped harder.

“Oh, come on, Doll. Talk to me.” He joked and she only added more strength to her jumps. Bucky kept by her side easily.

“I’m thinking of Italian. Maybe Mexican? Something with cilantro.” He panted lightly.

“Stop talking. Do you ever stop talking?” She asked as they neared the finish line.

“NOPE” He shouted and just before he could give on great leap that would place him before her on the red tape, he tripped, fell face forward, and YN won.

She laughed loudly as she stumbled out of her potato sack as the kids shrieked with joy at their hot physics teacher picking grass out of his mouth and laying flat on his back. She walked over and leaned over him, smiling down at him and he looked up sheepishly.

“You okay, Barnes?” She asked and he was quiet for a moment before he let out one giggle. YN’s mouth dropped at the sound and at her reaction, more giggled flowed from his chest and soon, YN, Steve, Scott and their classes joined him.

YN held out her hand and helped him to his feet and he jumped up, breathlessly laughing. The sun shone in his eyes and his smile was bright as he looked down to YN who seemed breathless in a different way.

“What?” He asked, watching as she seemed unable to form human words. “Do I have something on my face?”

She looked from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes and shook her head, letting stray hairs float around her face as she stepped back.

“No, I— I asked if you were okay?” She replied weakly and he chuckled, and bumped her chin with the side of his knuckle.

“I’m all good, Doll face.”

_______________________

The teams were gathered around in the centre court after the events. Several noses were burnt from the shining sun, and Bucky seemed keen on explaining what happened after the potato sack race to annoying who seemed to care to listen. It was only when Danvers climbed up on one of the tables that his rapidly-exaggerating storytelling came to a halt.

“So, I’ve gotten all the points counted! I don’t think there’s too much surprise in the results, but here we go! Fourth place, with 231 points is Mr. Banner and his Physics second stream class!” There was a roar of applause from their class as the others clapped politely. Bucky came to stand beside YN and he nudged her side playfully.

“Third, with 280 points is Mr. Odinson and his PE class!” There was a more excited clapping from the crowd this time around as they grew closer and closer to the winner of Spirit Week.

“Second, with a smattering number of 788 points is……” She paused for dramatic effect, and Bucky and YN were full on pushing each other at this point.

“Stop pushing me, you’re going to miss the announcement!” YN hissed, a smile on her face.

“I’ll do what I want— especially when she says your name and I get announced as first place!” He grinned and shoved her once more just as Carol read,

“Mr. Barnes and his honours physics class!” The room seemed to slow down for Bucky, then. His class, though disappointed with their loss of first place cheered to themselves. However, it was the look of elation that spread over YN’s face that made time stop. Her eyes crinkled and shone up at him and a smug smile bloomed on her face as she turned to look up at him.

“And finally, first place with 952 points is Ms. YLN and her honours literary class!” YN punched Bucky’s arm gently and he blinked himself out of his slow motion moment so that he could hear her speak.

“I’ll be picking you up at 3:00 tomorrow, Barnes! Oh, boy it’s going to be so good.” She hopped up and down and he watched her with soft eyes as she was pulled away from him and into the arms of her cheering kids. Michelle received a full on hug from her and soon, Herbert the Badger was hoisted up high into the air as the class jumped together in elation, YN swallowed by her adoring class, but still looking at him. Still smiling at him.

_____________________________

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #teacher!bucky #teacher!au #teacher!YN

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iamnotoriginalphil · 5 years ago

Text

Lessons in Love (Bucky x Reader) - Part 15

Synopsis: Your trip home for the holiday’s go awry when Adam decided to drop in for an unexpected visit.

Words: 1578

Warnings: mentions of smut, swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

There was something so comforting about being at home. The semester was done, you’d passed with flying colours, and now you were able to relax properly for the first time since you started at college. Your room was exactly the same, and the house smelt the way you remembered from your childhood.

Your parents were being understanding, given you were still angry at them. You’d been like a storm the first day, raging and yelling. They had no right to tell Adam where you were living these days, to get involved with your life, to think they knew better than you did. They were meant to take your side in the divorce, not his.

Now, you weren’t talking about it. You’d come to an understanding where Adam’s name wasn’t mentioned and you were able to ignore them. You knew he was in town, had seen him around when you were out earlier that day, but you’d done your best to ignore him. You’d seen the way he watched you when you caught sight of him. You didn’t want to deal with it.

You were lying in your bed, the nest of blankets keeping you warm against the frost of the day. You were staring out the window, your phone pressed to your ear. You were smiling, listening to the gruff voice on the other end of the line.

“And Sam is refusing to get off my fucking couch,” Bucky was telling you, “he is camping out there like he owns the fucking place but refuses to pay the rent. I can’t get him out of my fucking hair.”

You laughed, “Bucky, I asked him to look after you while I was gone.”

“I’m not a child that needs to be looked after,” he said, “I can look after myself.”

“You can’t even remember to eat three meals a day unless I remind you,” you replied.

“I’m not forgetting, I have more important things to do.”

You laughed again, rolling over onto your stomach. You pressed your face into your pillow to try and muffle it but you could tell from the terse silence he could still hear you.

“Believe it or not, Sam and I both care about you,” you said, “I don’t need your ass fainting on me while I’m away.”

“I don’t need your care,” he snapped.

“And yet, you still have it,” you said.

You heard your name being called from downstairs. You ignored it, listening to Bucky’s annoyed grumbling on the other end of the phone.

“When are you coming home?” he asked.

“Day after Boxing Day. Just three days,” you replied, “I wish it was sooner.”

“You missing me?” You knew he had that cocky grin on his face, you could practically hear it.

“I miss being in your bed,” you replied.

“Is that all I’m good for?” he asked, “fucking you into oblivion?”

“Amongst other things.”

You heard a fist banging on your door, your name being shouted through the wood. You sighed.

“Sorry but I’ve got to go,” you said, “family calls.”

“Yeah,” he said and hung up on you.

You looked down at the phone before flinging it aside. You got up from your nest of blankets, opening your door. Your mother was standing there, looking expectantly at you.

“You have a visitor, dear,” she said.

“Who?” you asked but you were worried you already knew.

“Come downstairs,” she said, confirming your fears.

You trudged down the stairs after her, wanting nothing more than to go back in your room, lock the door, and call Bucky back. You didn’t want this to be happen, especially not in your parent’s house. You paused in the living room doorway.

“You better have a good reason for being here,” you said.

Adam turned away from the mantle. He’d been looking at your family’s pictures, the ones from your childhood. He already knew what they looked like, had spent so much time in this room they couldn’t be in need of new scrutiny. There were no new pictures there.

“I came to see you without your guard dog,” he replied, “I knew you’d never bring it here to meet your parents.”

“You don’t know shit.” He stepped towards you until you held up a hand. You wouldn’t allow him anywhere near you, not anymore. He’d given up the right to be even in the same room as you, but you wouldn’t be able to get him to leave without causing a scene and you didn’t want that for your parents. They deserved better than that.

“Just say what you need to say then leave,” you said, already checking out of the conversation.

“I want you back,” he said, “I was an idiot and I fucked up and I need you.”

“I’m not doing this,” you said, “I’m not entertaining this fucking thought that you have any right to come to my family home and think you can win me back. I’ve given you an answer and the fact you’re not listening says you don’t care about me.”

“No, baby, I do. Of course I care about you,” he said, reaching out towards you.

“It doesn’t matter whether you believe that or not. You hurt me beyond anything anyone has ever done to me and you don’t get to come in here assuming you deserve sympathy from me after you fucked me over and left me for someone else. You caused your own pain, not me. And I’m better off without because just seeing your face makes me want to punch you. I am still so hurt.”

“You’ve hurt me too,” he said, “we’ve both hurt each other. It’s fine. We can get past that. I still love you.”

“You’ve never loved me. If you did, you wouldn’t have cheated on me for years. If you did, you would have been honest with me from the start. We can’t work this out because I don’t want to. I don’t want to get back together, I don’t want to forgive you, I don’t want you,” you said, finally stepping into the room. You needed him to understand this was never going to happen.

“You’re just confused with the dazzle of the big city,” he said, “if you stay here you’ll realise this is right.”

“But I’m not staying here. After the holidays I’ll be going back to the city, finishing out my year at college, and going back to Bucky. I’m not staying.”

“Grow up, baby. Don’t you get that you’re living in a fantasy world? Going to college is a pipe dream and you are never going to do anything with your life. The only thing the city will do is chew you up and spit you out. The only think you’re good at is being a wife and the only person that will take you now is me. Wake up and realise I’m the only person who is ever going to love you enough to want to be with you,” he said.

“Or maybe you think I’m the only one willing to listen to your lies anymore. Maybe you realised I’m your last hope of convincing a woman to marry you, who would be willing to take care of you. This is never about me as a person, but about what you can get out of me. Well, the answer is nothing. I want no part of you or your sad life.” You knew the tears were gathering in your eyes, and you were trying so hard to stop them from falling, “please leave.”

You turned on your heels, ready to storm out of the room. You were halfway up the stairs before his shout stopped you.

“He will never give you what I can.”

“At least he listens to me,” you said, “at least I know he’s only using me. He doesn’t lie or pretend it’s love. Which I would take over the deceit any day.”

“Just know I’ll be here when you come crawling back. He’ll throw you out on your ass and I’ll be here to pick you up and put you back together.”

“How can you do that when you were the one who broke me in the first place?”

With that you fled back to your room, slamming the door behind you. You curled up under your nest of blankets, the tears beginning to flow down your face. Adam had always had a knack for knowing where it would hurt and his words were exactly the things you thought about late at night. He knew where all your anxieties lay.

“Sweetheart.”

You looked up. Your mother was standing in your doorway. You held up the blankets, letting her climb into bed beside you. She wrapped her arms around you and you buried your face in her shoulder, letting the tears stream down your face.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, “I’m so sorry for telling him where you were living.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you said.

“He was always such a nice boy,” she said.

“He’s not good at hearing the word no,” you replied.

“He won’t be bothering you again.”

You looked over to the doorway, finding your father standing there. He looked grim, his jaw clenched and his face red. You tried not to think about what he must have said to Adam.

“Thanks Dad.”

You just wanted the holiday season to be over. You wanted to go back to Bucky and forget everything that had already happened.

Tags: @libellule2001 @sebs-daybreak @grim-adventures58

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes imagine #lessons in love

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1000roughdrafts · 5 years ago

Text

Family Secrets: Chapter Five

Pretty Thoughts

Summary: After interrogating a demon for weeks on end, she gives you the information you‘ve been hunting for. Enlisting help from Garth brings trouble in the form of Dean Winchester.

A/N: again, sorry about formatting, I’m on mobile. Also, happy halloweeeeeen🎃:)

Warnings: SPN style demon torture (lol), obscenities, slight angst (argument between reader x dean), Dean in slight pain

W/C: 2.7k

Masterlist/schedule

Previous Chapter

"Just give me their names you disgusting rat," you shout through clenched teeth at the thin, black hair and black eyed demon you have strapped to a rusted chair. Dumping holy water onto the demons face you smile as it screams out in agony. With clammy hands you lean in, your face just inches away from it's blood drenched cheek. "You're going to die no mater what, so give me what I need and I'll put you out of your misery."

The demon stays silent, looking at you with it's now chestnut eyes with russet rims. It's long lashes bat once at you. "Mandy," you say gingerly while pushing yourself up to stretch out your back.

Taking a glimpse at the devils trap you've carved into the floorboards of a room you and Rufus had added onto the cabin, it wretchedly begs, "it's been weeks."

"Pretty neat, huh?" You mendaciously chuckle while toying with the dagger. "I've expanded on the normal version. Thought I'd had a trick of my own. You're dying, slowly and never to return again that's to some spells I've learned along the way."

"How cute. A hunter dabbling in magic. Does daddy know that you're no better than those you're in search of?" She puts on a false pout before breaking into laughter, "oh, wait."

Your eyebrows erect to reveal your arrogant eyes and temperate smirk. "Names. Now."

The demon stays silent, continuing to look around for a way out. Fed up with its evasiveness you grab a syringe filled with holy water and finished off with a spell to elongate the effects, to quickly inject the demon before it can scream out. After giving a second dose, you throw the empty syringe back onto the tray.

"Guess I'll see you in a few days, then." You laugh, "if you're still alive that is. See, I do need this information, but if you die before I can get it, well, that just means I have to kill more of your kind. And that's a win win for me."

You stealthily turn to walk towards the wooden block of a door that leads to the cabin. As you approach the first step, the demon lets out a thundering, frustration driven growl. Twisting around to face the demon, you smile, "yes?"

"Allanah Sandburn, Rose Coach, Taylor something and Violet Yasmin."

"Who else?" you demand while striding over and paralleling you're torso to the demons, pulling your dagger to her cheek.

"Guess you're gonna have to get another 'rat' to tell you that one," it shrieks, spitting at you. "That's all I know."

"Good one," you say, wiping the saliva from your cheek with the back of your hand and letting out a small chuckle. "I guess you're right."

Thrusting the blade into the left center of the demons chest it lets out one last ear piercing shrill, throwing its head back in torment. The body twitches and convulses and the last bit of essence vanished from the vessel in a luminous flash of vivid energy.

After showering the dagger in holy water you use your handkerchief to wipe it dry before dialing a number into your cell. "Hi, Garth." You pause and smile, "yeah, grab a piece of paper, would ya?"

You rotate around and stride over to the demon. "Can you do me a solid and have a look-see at a few names?"

—

A nauseating stench vents into the smokey air as you glare into the pit and gawk at the burning carcass. You reach into your pocket and put the singing phone to your ear, "what's the word?"

"Why are you asking Garth to track down a coven?"

"Grumpy? What are you doing with Garths cell?"

"What? I'm no- didn't you see the number before you answered?"

"Luckily for you, I didn't. Slick move leaving your card behind, I thought I had your number blocked."

"Yeah, well," Dean clears his throat. "Sam says I may have been a little too tough on you."

"Tough?" You called me a fucking monster, asshole, your thoughts scream.

"Now, I know I called you a monster and hey," he chuckles, "I've been there. Like you said, a lot of hunters have a bounty on my head."

"And?" Do you expect me to fucking care? You think as you sit on the cement steps in front of the porch.

"And I'm not expecting you to care or anything, but, uh, I thought 'what the hell, let's give her a shot'. What do you say?"

"Give me a shot?" Better make sure that's an iron bullet, you cynically joke.

"No, look, I'm not fixin' to shoot you," he says quickly and then more smoothly, "I'm saying I want a second chance."

"Yeah well you can take that and-"

"Shove it where the sun don't shine? Tried that. It can right on back."

You can hear a playful grin that he's attempting to suppress, and roll your eyes at the image. "I have gone a very long time with just myself, I think I can handle-"

"You're not doing it on your own. Covens typically meet in groups of-"

"Thirteen. I'm aware. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Says the girl who doesn't even know when she was born," he scowls.

You laugh, "aw, would you look at that, it didn't even take more than five minutes for your true colors to shine back through."

"Okay, smarty pants, I'm looking at this from a logical point of view. Thirteen against one are not great odds. You want to get yourself killed? Be my first. But if you want help, do nothing until we get back. What do you say?"

"That's assuming that I'm not already being logical about this." You pause, "tell me what Garth found out and I light agree to that."

He sighs, "the main one you're looking for Allanah. I guess she was last seen somewhere near Kansas City, but seriously... don't go poking around until me and Sam get back to the cabin. Just stay where you are. Do you hear me?"

You switch the phone to your alternate ear, standing up from the steps. "You are not in charge of me, Dean! We met purely coincidentally, you threatened me and I went off on my own remember? I didn't even want to hear from you again!" What does he care anyway?

"Whatever. I don't care. Just don't drag Garth into it."

"Oh," you scoff. "So that's a perfectly acceptable thing for Dean Winchester, but I can't?" Asshole.

"What did you just say?"

Louder this time, you repeat yourself, "I'm saying you don't own him. You can't just keep bossing people aro-"

"No, something about an ass."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I could have sworn you called me an asshole."

Immediately you end the call and hold the phone against your chest. "How in the hell could he have heard that?" You say aloud, too scared to say anything mentally.

Walking inside to grab yourself a much needed beer you try to drown out the idea of Dean Winchester heading your every thought. You're trying to keep them concealed and nothing too personal, but after a lifetime of privacy as far as thoughts go, it's not as easy as you hope. Opening the beer, your phone rings again.

"Leave me alone," you growl.

"Oh," Tim says, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were upset with me."

You put your palm to your forehead, "I'm not, Tim. I'm sorry. I was just on the phone with someone else, and... what's up?"

"Well, there's this guy missing from my town. The police don't seem to be doing much, but I really gotta know if he's okay, you know?" He sniffles, "I figured since you're part of the FBI or CSI or secret service or something you could look into it?"

"Oh, I don't know, Tim," you sigh. "It doesn't really... work that way."

"Please? It would really mean a lot to me."

"Just... just text me the location."

By the time you arrive, the neighborhood is dark. No street or porch lights are on. Most of the houses are guarded up with rusted chains on the windows and skirted with tall metal fences. You grab your pistol from the glove box and double check the clip. With the dagger still in your boot, you sneak out while checking for wandering eyes. The sidewalk that interrupts a dandelion garden leads to a golden brown door. Checking over your shoulder once more, you pick the lock and creep inside.

What you presume used to be a coffee table is wearing the couch and underneath the two is a torn up rug. Shards of splintered wood litter the floor where the dining table had collapsed. A thick coating of muddy red blood is splattered over the previously cotton white walls and wooden floor. You aren't sure whether it came from one person or more, but it is enough to leave a man dead. The only room unscathed is the office, which seems to remain orderly if it weren't for the papers scattered around.

Whoever is doing this was looking for something.

After bowing to your knees, you rummage through the cluster trying to find a clue. You check the mahogany dressers of his desk, and find nothing to suggest he had a life outside of work. You open the screen of his laptop and smile when it pulls everything up with no need to enter a password. Finding nothing but excel worksheets and business projects, you focus your attention to the matching bookshelf to see much of the sale.

Nothing seems to be helpful until you notice that one is remarkably shallow compared to the other. Quickly and quietly, you pull everything out and using the heel of your gun you give the makeshift bottom a rough tap. After a few attempts it opens just enough to reach inside. The tips of your fingers are instantly cold to the touch of a large skeleton key.

"I believe that belongs to me, sweetheart."

Drawing your weapon you whip around and lime the barrel between the mans eyes.

"Ah, the ol' gun to the head trick," he laughs with his arks in the air. "Go ahead, love, wouldn't work on me anyway." He drops his arms as you bend to reach the dagger, keeping him in sight. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I know what you're going for, darling, and I'd strongly advice against it."

"Who are you?" Dean help! You scream in your mind, putting as much strength and emphasis onto the name as you can, hoping that he can hear you.

"Trying to cut out the foreplay I see," he snarls while walking to your side. "Very well, then. The names Crowley," he says proudly, chin held high.

Bursting through the door of the cabin, the Winchester's lug in their bags and plop them into the floor. Sam shuffled through one of the books shelves while Dean is staring out of a, foolishly open, window. He steps back and forth along the floor before throwing his arms out and halts his pacing, “we have four missing people, and never seen or heard of before weather patterns."

Sam lets out an exasperated sigh, "are we sure they're even connected?" He pulls a book from the case and settles in at the table to flip through it. He scans the room, twisting his body in both directions, "said a minute. Wasn't Blue supposed to be here?"

"I couldn't give a -" in completion of a sentence, Dean screams obscenities as he drops to the floor boards, holding his head in his hands.

"Woah, what's going on?" Sam scrambles to his side, dropping to the floor with him.

"I don't-" Dean belts out another cry of pain, "I don't know. I can hear her though."

"Who?" Sam pulls his brother up by the shirt and sits him upright. "Who do you hear?"

Dean clasps at his chest, looking up at Sam with wide eyes, "Blue. She's in trouble."

"I'm only here for one thing." He puts his lips next to your ear, and a hand in your hair. "And I'd hate to break those lovely little fingers of yours to get it, but you see, I'd do anything to get what I want." After rolling his fingers down your sleeve he removed his hand to point at the key, "and what I want is that."

"Did you kill him? What's so special about this key anyway?"

He chuckles, taking a short breath and turning his back to you. "You're such a naive, little, what? Hunger, are you? You really think I would waste my precious time on this fool?" He side eyes you while walking over to the bookshelf. "The key," he says, pouring some bourbon into a glass, "is really for me to know and for you," he paused with a grin and takes it down in one gulp, "to never find out."

"Wow," you scoff. Dean! Dean! Dean! Grumpy! Dean!

His eyes squint before trailing up and down your figure. When they meet back up with yours they are curious, and intrigued, "what's your name, love?"

"I'm not about to play share and tell with a demon," you scowl.

"King of Hell," he says through his teeth. "I could snap your neck with a snap of my fingers," he smiles and holds his hand up, "humor me."

"But I've piqued you're interest, haven't I? You could have done that from the start, but you didn't." You mirror the expression on his face as he pours himself another glass without removing his eyes from yours. "Which means you need me alive, don't you? Why?"

"Because we made a deal," a woman's voice fills the room before she can be seen. Grumpy, please! She slowly walks to Crowleys side, glancing at him once before resting an arm on his shoulder. She smiles at you, "hi, Y/N. It's been so long since I've seen you. So for the sake of meeting in, oh I don't know, twenty or so years, I'm Allanah."

She makes her way over to you, wrapping her arms sound your back and grabbing the key. She hands it to Crowley, who disappears instantly.

Allanah laughs, "the part he doesn't know is that without you, that key is nothing more than a paper weight."

Dean drops his hands to his knees and struggled to get his words out through chunky breaths, "have you seen a woman?"

"I run a bar, kid. You're gonna have to be a lot more specific than that," the man scoffs.

"I got this," Sam whispers and turns to face the bald and bearded man behind the counter. Clearing his throat, he asserts, "I'm agent Scott and uh, my partner here is Agent Paxton." Dean sits at the bar, using it as a pillow and only raises a hand in acknowledgment.

Sliding a picture onto the counter, Sam continues, "her name is Blue. Have you seen her come by in the last month or so?"

The man only shakes his head, Sam puts a palm down on the counter. "She may have had a, uh, fling with one of your employees."

The man laughs, "if you think that narrows it down, you'd be mistaken."

"I believe his name was Tim."

"That sounds about right. That Tim sure did have a way with the ladies," she shakes his head with another chuckle.

"Did?"

"Yeah, he quit comin' round about two weeks ago. No calls, nothing. Was a shame, too. It's difficult to find people who work in this damn town."

Dean... please, I'm begging you. Please.

"Shut up!" Dean yells, pounding the counter with his fist and capturing the attention of the people in the bar. When he noticed all eyes are on him, he adjusts his tie and gives a tired chuckle, "bad dream," he jokes with a half nod and light wave before dropping his upper portion back onto the counter.

Sam pulls a card from his suit and places it onto the bar, "if you hear anything." He lifts his eyebrows while tilting his head slightly and adds force to his words, "from either of them, give me a call."

Next Chapter

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