#I really hope I got your version of Sam right!

[high5runner5]

“You’ve have your axe, Five...”

Merry Christmas to @runnerfiveready ! I decided to do a little tense scene from one of the most conflicting missions: Shoot the Runner! I truly wish you a Merry Christmas and I had a great time being your secret Santa! And a thanks to @runnerzero for another amazing year of the community Secret Santa!

[apocalypseornaw]

Shaky Ground

Dean Winchester x Reader

When Dean accidently hurts you during sex it leads to you feeling unsure about your relationship because for the first time ever he won't reciprocate your attempts at intimacy even after you're healed

Cursing, mention of a bruised cervix, body parts being bruised,supernatural level of violence, NSFW happenings

Requested by @fullbelieverheart This ended up longer than Sam's version... sorry I love Sammy but Dean has my heart

Dean's jaw ached from how hard his teeth ground together. The hunt had been too close. You'd nearly...he didn't want to think about it. He couldn't think about it. He followed you into your shared hotel room, greatful Sam had the foresight to get two rooms. He couldn't imagine having to share the room with his brother right now.

When you turned to face him he felt his anger dissolve into that underlying fear. You didn't have any serious injuries, no more than him or Sam but the fact that if he'd been a little slower or a little weaker or if you'd had a little less fight in you.... "come here" he barely got out before scooping you up into his arms and walking towards the bed. What he couldn't say with words, he could say in other ways.

------------------

You woke up slowly, the small amount of light from the curtain hitting your eyes. You could feel Dean's arm tucked tightly around your waist. As much as you wanted to cuddle up against him you could tell from the discomfort you were in that something was wrong.

You tried to move his arm without waking him but the moment you touched him his eyes fluttered open "What's wrong sweetheart?" You smiled at the concern in his voice "We didn't clean up before we fell asleep last night. I feel gross" he chuckled lightly and pressed a kiss to your shoulder "Good point. Let's grab a shower then I'll go wake Sammy up"

You felt him move out the bed so you moved to do the same but felt a harsh pull through your lower body. At first you assumed it was the usual post sex soreness, Dean was well endowed to say the least but when you had to bite down on your lip to not cry out you knew it was more and when you saw streaks of blood on the sheet you cursed lightly under your breath. Dean looked back from where he was pulled fresh clothes out of his duffle "Something wrong?" You smiled stiffly "No"

His smile dropped "Don't lie to me baby. What is it" you swallowed hard then bit back a grimace as you stood out of the bed and pulled the cover back "I um apparently bled a little last night?" He walked over and looked at the stains "You don't have periods because of your iud" you nodded slowly. His eyes went from the stain to your face then moved slowly down to your body "Did I hurt I hurt?"

You shrugged "Not really" you watched his throat move as he swallowed hard "let me rephrase the question here. Are you in pain right now from something I did last night?" You let out a breath and let your gaze drop to the floor "My pelvic area is really sore and it kinda hurts to move fast and I think I'm gonna bruise on my hips"

Dean moved slowly towards you and you felt his hands touch your body gently, his fingers tracing where you knew bruises would be. "Dean" you spoke his name softly and started to cover his hand with your own but he pulled away "I'm gonna go shower in Sam's room. There was an urgent care a few towns over. We'll stop by and see what's wrong" "It's not that serious Dean" you tried again but his face had already taken on that hard mask "I hurt you, inside and out. At least let me take you to a doctor"

"Just shower with me" your voice was nearly a whisper but he shook his head "I need to wake him up anyway" you watched him dress in yesterday's clothes and grab his clean ones before slipping out the door, only taking time to lock it behind himself.

"I needed the help" you whispered with tears in your eyes before slowly bending down to pick up your duffle bag. You hoped nothing was serious because the look in Dean's eyes was enough to snap your heart in two.

You sat in the backseat absorbing the silence that filled the impala. You had a bruised cervix and some mild bruising on your hips and thighs. The look in Dean's eyes when the doctor asked if you were safe at home...jesus.

You closed your eyes and laid back against the seat, holding your stomach where the heated patch Sam had found at the pharmacy was helping to soothe your muscles. You knew Dean would never hurt you on purpose and its not like you were exactly complaining, hell you'd been begging him not to stop as a matter of fact.

You tried not to let any discomfort show because outside of holding your hand while the doctor had done a pelvic exam he hadn't shown any physical affection. Anytime his eyes found yours in the mirror you would give him a small smile and he'd look away. What was going through his head?

-----------------

Deans head was anything but silent as he drove. What kind of man hurt the woman he loved? Intentionally or not? He glanced back at you in the mirror and this time you didn't notice his attention. You'd stolen Sam's flannel as a pillow as was using his jacket as a blanket. The anti inflammatory meds along with antibiotics had meant all of you had needed to stop for lunch to make sure you had food in your stomach but he hadn't been able to eat much.

His thoughts were filled with the fact that he'd hurt you. The one person you should've been able to trust to protect you was the one who hurt you. You must have finally gotten comfortable because you hadn't stirred in the last few miles and it seemed like you were asleep. "She's ok Dean. She's strong and heals fairly fast" Sam spoke softly, ignoring the daggers Dean glared in his direction "Sam they looked at me like I was abusive or worse. I bruised her cervix. I've never done that to anyone. Not even when I was a kid figuring out what goes where. I'm a grown man. How do I fuck up this bad? And bruises on her hips and thighs?"

Sam shrugged "Dean you're strong as hell man and she's got a high pain tolerance. You two were amped up from a hunt. Adrenaline was high. Just don't let this come between you" Dean glanced back at you again as you moved around in your sleep, a slight twinge of discomfort flashing across your face twisting his heart with guilt "Easier said than done"

Bruises fade internally as well as externally. What proved to be harder to heal was the ever widening gap between you and Dean. When he finally started sleeping in the bed with you again he'd wear a t-shirt and either sweatpants or loungepants to bed.

He'd kiss you but it would never go past a quick kiss. No tongue would ever even make it into the picture and he'd rarely even hold you when you slept. You were losing your mind. You'd tried everything you knew that would normally have him begging you but he'd either curl up behind you and go to sleep or make an excuse about helping Sam.

You fought back tears yet again as Dean barely brushed a kiss to your lips before heading into town to pick up needed things for the bunker. You grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the library to help Sam do research, maybe getting your mind off the growing doubt in your heart would help.

----------

You sat down at the table and Sam glanced up "You didn't go with Dean?" You scoffed "and have him accidentally touch any part of my body? The scandal" you hadn't meant to say it but it slipped out. His eyes widened "Guess he's still avoiding a certain subject"

You covered your face with your hands "Fuck I shouldn't be talking to you about it" "Hey, if it helps then talk" Sam offered and you let your hands slide down to offer him a greatful smile "I love him so much Sam and I know relationship are so much more than that but I miss the connection. I miss being in his arms. I miss feeling like I'm completely his and that he's completely mine"

You wiped your eyes before the tears could spill. He nodded slowly "He's scared. He won't admit it but he is. He felt so horrible when he realized he hurt you and the way he was treated at that urgent care... he doesn't want to risk hurting you again so you're gonna have to put the foot forward and make it intentional. All cards on the table thing"

You nodded after a moment "Thanks Sammy" he smiled "Of course"

You knew Dean had purposely stayed up late tinkering around in the garage. Baby didn't need tuning up, neither did your car. He kept them in top form. He was avoiding you.

You walked around the room you shared with him, stretching your legs and wondering just how to approach the subject without him feeling like you were pushing him into a corner. Dean never reacted well if he felt like something was an ultimatum but this wasn't fair to either of you.

You were healed up, inside and out. You hadn't blamed him any, even when you'd still been sore to the touch. You'd always known Dean was strong. Hell he fought monsters for most of his life, hand to hand and won. That required physical strength. Mix with the fact that you had a pain tolerance that Bobby had called insane...well you were surprised it'd taken this long for an accident to happen.

You loved Dean's strength, he was normally so gentle with you but that one night you'd almost died. You'd known it just the same as him. The adrenaline hadn't even faded from your system to acknowledge it when you'd gotten back to the hotel and you needed to feel like you were still alive and he needed the confirmation you were still alive as well. Dean out of every person on the face of the earth would die a thousand times over before ever intentionally hurting you and you knew that to the bottom of your heart. If only you could make him see that.

You laid down on the bed and curled your legs up under you. You felt defeated. If you couldn't win the fight for your relationship, how the hell could you win any others?

--------------

You heard the door crack open after a while and started to pretend like you were asleep but turned to face Dean was was standing next to his dresser. He smiled softly "Did I wake you?" You shook your head "No, I haven't exactly been sleeping good"

He dropped his gaze down "Are you hurting again?" "Physically? No" you replied softly before turning around again, giving him your back. You didn't want to hurt him but you had no clue how to give voice to your own fears in the moment either.

You choked back a sob when the bed dipped behind you right before you felt his arm slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. "I'm so sorry sweetheart" you gently laid your hand on his arm, fingers lightly trailing over the skin because you were honesty starved for any touch from the man now holding you "It's ok Dean"

He leaned his forehead over to rest between your shoulders, warm breath hitting your skin where the shirt you slept in had slid down "I would never hurt you please tell you know that" "I know" you whispered.

You laid there for a few minutes just enjoying the fact that he was holding you before he moved around. You thought he was getting comfortable to go to sleep but his lips brushed against your neck. Your breath came out in a harsh shudder "Dean" you started to turn to face him so he loosened his grip to let you turn in his arms.

He kept one hand on your hip, lightly tracing the patterns on your shorts "Can we talk?" He asked and you nodded. "I'm terrified here sweetheart. The night I hurt you... I almost lost you that night and I was blinded by the what ifs...we should've showered...got some food or something to calm down first...I know that now..."

"I wasn't exactly telling you to stop Dean" you cut him off and he smiled slightly "I know but still it's my job to protect you, even if it's from me" you picked at the front of his shirt and nodded "You do protect me Dean" he gave you a look and you grinned before pretending to lock your lips.

"Seeing blood on the sheets and knowing I caused it. I hurt the woman I love bad enough she bled?" He closed his eyes for a moment so you took the opportunity to move your hand from his chest to his jaw, cupping it gently and letting your nails scratch the scruff covering it from the days he'd missed trimming it.

"Can I talk now?" He opened his eyes slowly and nodded "you do protect me Dean. That night, yeah we could calmed down and not let adrenaline run us but lesson learned. I was never mad at you, if I hadn't been hurting I would've kicked every last one of those doctors asses for even thinking such of you but I did yell at them"

He laughed, resuming letting his fingers trace patterns on your hips "Yeah I remember you yelling excuse the fuck out of him for having a big cock I know it's not like any of you or any of your husbands have to worry about that issue" you smiled at seeing him relax even just a bit "I'm not made of glass of Dean but I do acknowledge the fact that the man I'm in love with is extremely strong. I also know that the man I love with would never hurt me intentionally but Dean I miss you. I've been healed up for weeks now and you'll barely kiss me"

-----------------

He leaned closer to catch your lips in a gentle kiss. Just when you figured he would move away he gripped your hips gently then rolled over onto his back so you were left straddling him. When you gasped from the sudden movement he deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue against yours in a way that had your head spinning.

When you were forced to break away from his lips he grinned up at you "I miss you too sweetheart. I'm still worried I'm gonna hurt you" you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment then shrugged with a playful smile "Face your fears Winchester"

When you slipped your shirt over your head his eyes darkened "You gonna lay back and let make sure you're good and ready for me?" One of his hands teased up your side to graze over your breast. After so long with no intimacy every little touch had small gasps leaving you and it was clear from the weight growing against your thigh that the sounds falling from you were having an effect on Dean.

You nodded so he pulled you down to him, his mouth finding your left nipple. Teeth barely grazing the sensitive bud. A low moan of his name escaped you as you rolled your hips against his causing a low groan to leave him.

------------

He released your breast then turned the two of you over so you were on your back and he was now over you. You watched him as he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it. You didn't waste any time letting your hands find his chest, fingers exploring the expanse of skin that you loved. His eyes closed at such an innocent touch but you knew it he was as starved for your touch as you were for his the touch was anything but.

When his eyes fluttered open the look in them made your stomach flip. He caught your lips in a searing kiss that wasn't rough but wasn't chaste either. It made heat flare through your body as his fingers teased the waistband of your shorts "I need to feel you" he whispered as his fingers disappeared under your shorts.

One of his fingers teased through your folds and he groaned when he felt how wet you already were "Oh baby, I've been neglecting you haven't I?" His words were teasing but his tone wasn't as he moved from your lips to your neck, kissing and nipping every place he knew would make your body react. When he finally slid one finger into you, you gasped at the feeling.

He curled his finger up and easily found that spot inside of you, adding a second digit as your arousal grew even more. The sound was lewd as he worked you to an orgasm, marking your neck as chest as he did. You were embarrassingly soaked when he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit that was all it took to push you over that edge and you came with a loud moan of his name.

He caught your lips in another passionate kiss before pulling his fingers to his mouth, holding your eyes as he licked them clean. "I need a taste" he murmured, moving to hover over you. He started at your lips,letting you taste yourself on him before starting down your body kissing and marking every inch of skin he could.

You were a fucking puddle under him before he ever got to your shorts. When he settled himself between your knees he smiled at you "I love you sweetheart" you smiled weakly "I love you Dean" he pulled your shorts off your legs and started at your left ankle, kissing up to just shy of where you needed him before repeating the action on your right leg.

Just when you thought he was going to tease you more he licked a long line into you and when your response was to tangle your fingers into his hair he dove in like a man starved.

--------------

You'd already came two or was it three times? Hell you had no idea. All you knew was your legs felt like they were made of jello, your entire body felt soft and Dean still hadn't let up. "Dean, please baby I can't"

He leaned back from you, chin glistening with your wetness "Tapping on me?" You nodded "Come here please" for the first time you saw hesitation in his eyes. "Please" you repeated and he left another kiss on your clit before making his way back up your body. When he kissed you, you tasted yourself on his lips.

You could feel his hardened cock through his sweatpants and hooked your leg around his waist to pull him down to you "I want you" "Sweetheart.." "I trust you" you whispered and saw something shift in his demeanor. Was that what he needed to hear?

He stood up long enough to kick his sweats off then climbed back up the bed, holding his weight on his arms. You could feel his cock sitting against your thighs "You won't hurt me" you whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he started to push in you both let out a harsh breath. He froze, eyes searching your face so you laughed breathlessly "It's a normal you're big and we haven't had sex in a while reaction. Don't stop" he kept going at your encouragement until he was fully inside of you.

Once he was buried inside of you, you felt his hand shake slightly when he brushed the hair out of your face "Are you ok?" You nodded "I'm ok baby. You can move" he let his lips find yours as his hips gave a tentative roll. When you moan lightly he moved down from your lips to your neck.

----------

He buried his face in your neck as he found a pace that had your hands gripping his shoulders and praises of him falling from your lips. "You're the perfect one sweetheart. Look at you. All spread out for me, loving me" he groaned into your flesh and you knew he was close. He was holding back to make sure you found your own release.

He slipped one hand between your bodies and when his fingers found your clit your orgasm had you screaming his name. You could feel his hips falter and knew he was close. "I'm not gonna break. Nothing hurts" you whispered and his thrusts got just slightly deeper as he chased his own release. When he finally came and buried himself inside of you with a final thrust he pressed his head over onto your chest as both of your heavy breathing filled the room.

--------------

When Dean gently pulled out of you his eyes tracked the sheet under you so you smiled sleepily "We need to get cleaned up but I promise that's just a wet spot. No blood"

He pressed a deep kiss to your lips "I'll go start a bath. You get in first and I'll change the sheets then come join you" you raised an eyebrow "Dean we hadn't had sex in weeks. You just wrang like four orgasms out of me. Are you gonna wrap me in a sheet and carry me to the bathroom?"

He nodded as he slipped his sweatpants back on as if it was ridiculous for to you to think otherwise. You knew arguing was pointless so why not enjoy the brute strength of the man you loved? You shook your head with a laugh "I love you Dean" he grinned "I love you too. Now arms up"

[mxltifxnd0m]

boyfriend headcanons ⟡ d. winchester

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.2K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, one suggestive comment, a smidge of angst, reader is to be implied as a hunter, lowercase intended

a/n: SURPRISE! i made the dean version of bf headcanons. i stayed up until 3am making this bc my mind had ideas and i didn't want to lose them lol (ik im crazy 😁) also technically my first fic for dean lmao

i hope you all enjoy and please reblog and comment, it really helps out!!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ before dating you:

was super attracted to you before he even said a single word to you 

it was definitely lust at first sight (he wouldn't have minded sleeping with you) 

then you opened your mouth, and he was like, oh man, they're gonna be trouble, aren't they (as if he isn't trouble as well) 

you guys bickered a lot. like A LOT to the point where sam would have to remove himself from the room or get in between you two in order to stop the bickering 

the bickering got so bad that sam had to lock the two of you in the motel room sam and he were sharing and didn't let you guys out until the two of you could have a civil conversation 

you guys eventually stopped bickering out of malice after finding common ground between the two of you 

there was bickering but it read more of an old married couple bantering with one another 

then somehow, you guys became friends, and the physical attraction that dean had to you had morphed into something else and then he realized that he liked you 

he only confessed his feelings when you had a close call with a ghoul and blurted out his feelings to you when patching you up 

⟡ dating dean winchester:

you would describe dating dean as a roller coaster, but like all relationships, it has its ups and downs 

it was hard to have vulnerable conversations with dean without the infamous hunters' helper (alcohol lol)

you guys fought a lot at the beginning of your relationship bc you were fighting tooth and nail to get him to at least try and talk to you 

you soon realized that you would have to take a different approach to it and eventually let him come to you when he needed it 

it took a while, but once he put his walls down and trusted you, it seemed like a weight was lifted off of him when he finally told you a sliver of what was going on in his head 

⟡ soft dean!

now, this is where we get soft! dean 

we all know that dean is secretly a softy at heart, and you see it in the more quiet moments with him

he'll stare at you when the two of you are researching or when you're bustling around the kitchen, prepping and cooking lunch for the three of you 

and without fail, a cute blush will appear on his face, making his freckles pop against the red hue of his cheeks as you catch him staring at you  "what are you looking at?" you asked with a wide smile on your face.  "just you sweetheart." he tries to play off his flustered state with a wink, but you shook your head, knowing he was a bit embarrassed he got caught staring.

speaking about getting flustered, he loves teasing you and trying to get you flustered with fleeting touches, flirty gestures, and outright whispering the filthiest things that he wants to do you during the most inconvenient times, like if you're on a case or researching 

what he didn't take into account when he started it was that you would dish it right back at him

he loves it when you keep him on your toes 

⟡ pet names

OH another thing, PET NAMES  he loves using pet names for you 

we have the usual sweetheart, babe (not baby bc you know you come in a close third after sam and the impala) (he's tried arguing that's not true, but you knew it and understood you came after both of them).

he would def call you honey, beautiful, angel, and some variation of your name/nickname 

if he's in a playful mood, he'd probably call you borderline cringe pet names like pumpkin, sweet cheeks, pookie these are the ones you roll your eyes at since he knows you hate them

⟡ love langauges

now, his love languages, his main ones to give are acts of service, physical affection, and quality time, while the ones he likes to receive are physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time 

⟡ physical touch

now, physical touch is a given for dean  he's a very tactical man and is a sucker for it 

when he can, he'll always be touching you, holding your hand or resting on your shoulder, thighs pressed together while sitting together eating in a diner booth, cuddling while watching a movie or always being in his arms while sleeping together, making out wherever whenever (his favorite place is obviously in the backseat of baby) 

but there are days when he needs physical affection from you, and you gladly give it to him, and he's a sucker for you when you play with his hair 

PDA, man is shameless with the PDA  he doesn't care he will kiss you no matter what and when he can  he loves you, and even if he's afraid to say it, he'll definitely show it to you 

⟡ acts of service

which brings me to acts of service  dean will do anything for you even if you didn't ask for him to do it  makes breakfast for you almost every morning, gives you his flannel when you're cold (he loves to see you in his clothes), replaces the lightbulb in your lamp when you mentioned it was flickering, taking care of you when you get drunk (he did this even before the two of you started to date and bickered the entire time), but the list goes on and on 

dean just likes to take care of the people he loves (it was practically ingrained into him at a young age) 

⟡ quality time

he also likes spending time with you it doesn't matter if the two of you aren't talking and working on your own tasks; he likes being in your presence (it soothes him)  with how crazy his life is, he loves the mundane things/tasks he does with you

sometimes, he'll go run errands with you, not bc he's bored and wants to avoid research (which is actually the main excuse at times) but, he likes the sense of normalcy it brings him when the two of you are together, and when you spend time with him 

⟡ words of affirmation

now, dean would never admit it to you (or to himself), but he needs to be reassured 

his mind is a dangerous place for him, and he can find himself drowning in his self-deprecating and self-destructive thoughts (these are also the days he needs you the most, and your touch is grounding to him) 

your words act as a lifeboat for him in the chaotic storm that is his mind and calms them down significantly 

he slowly works on his self-esteem and self-worth, but with your help, it's a little easier for him 

⟡ protective

this is a given, but he is SO protective of you 

dean is a fiercely protective person at his core and will do anything and everything to keep the people that he loves safe, and now that includes you 

some arguments were had when dean was being overbearing and flat out refusing to let you go on certain hunts with them bc it was too dangerous. you had to remind him that you were a hunter before you met him and will continue being one until the day you decide to try and retire or die 

he doesn't like it when you hunt alone, and so he always tries to come with you or send sam with you if he's indisposed for some reason 

he's only like this bc he can't lose one of the best things in his life 

[hemmingshouse]

truth, drink or dare / colby brock

summary: colby and sam convinced you and tara to join them in a new version of their usual truth or drink videos and it takes a turn when you confess the truth and get dared.

warnings: 18+, alcohol, getting drunk, mentions of sex, kissing, cursing, sexy thingssss (not proof read x)

(let me know if you want a part two or send in a request! x)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“what’s up guys, it’s sam and colby!” sam exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together before rubbing them and sending the camera a small grin. “we’re doing the dreaded video once again,” he groaned, thinking of how the previous times were so bad the hangover lasted for a week.

colby hissed playfully, shaking his head in disbelief as to why they were still agreeing on doing this. he raised a finger, “i don’t know why we said yes, but!” he spoke up, “today we have two lovely ladies joining us today to make it a bit more bearable!”

“oh really! who’s that?” you asked them playfully as you sat up straight on the couch, smushed in between colby and tara. “i can’t fucking believe we’re doing this.”

tara shook her head, “i feel sick already, this is such a bad idea.”

sam reached over to gently pat both of you and tara on the head, “we took you out for lunch! it’s the least you can do for your best friends after that.”

colby laughed, leaning back onto the couch as he stretched an arm across the head rest. he gently scratched your head to get your attention, sending you a reassuring smile. you weren’t sure what it meant, but the gesture was sweet and it made you smile back at him either way.

“since we’ve done truth or drink quite a few times,” colby explained, “sam and i decided it would be fun to switch things up and add another option to it; dare. this means that you can choose between truth or dare, and if you don’t wanna do either of ‘em, you take a shot.”

“of water,” you added quickly, pointing towards the camera, “we’re not daydrinking and you shouldn’t either!”

your three friends laughed and colby leaned backwards to reach for the bottle of tequila he hid behind the couch, as well as four shot glasses. “i got you girls your own new heart shaped shot glasses to make things a bit more.. cute.”

your mouth fell agape as well as tara’s as colby handed you both a shot glass, “oh this is adorable,” you chuckled, “i hope it fits less than your normal ones.”

sam snorted as he let out a laugh, “we tried them out before, fits the same amount. sorry sweetcheeks, but you’re fucked.”

sam had pulled up their shared instagram, quickly scrolling through the multiple questions and dares before closing his eyes and letting his thumb stop on one of them. “alright so the plan is, we’re gonna roll a dice. if the dice lands on an uneven number, everyone answers the truth. if it lands on an even one we all agree on one person to do the dare - just a quick heads up!”

you let out a small sigh, brushing a lock of your bangs out of your face before tapping your nails against the empty shot glass - waiting for sam to stop giggling at the first question. you knew these type of videos were the rowdiest ones and loved to watch them be honest or get shitfaced - but that was until now, when you were actually a part of the video and had to spill your guts as well.

colby noticed how you shifted in your spot right next to him, your bare knee brushing his jeans covered one.

you had been in a few of their investigation videos and challenges so the fans were fully aware of the way the boys had you in their lives as a real good friend. since colby had always been good with girls and flirted with nearly every single of them it wasn’t new to the viewers when he sometimes placed a hand on your thigh or wrapped an arm around your shoulders - hell he even made sexual and dirty minded jokes with you involved.

that became normal for the two of you way too quickly but you weren’t sure if he was just jokingly flirting with you sometimes or if there was a hint of truth behind his words and actions.

“okay!” sam yelled loudly, shaking you out of your trance from where you were fiddling with the thin silver ring on your middle finger, “let’s just take a shot to start off the game,” he said as he poured all of your glasses, joining them together in a toast before all of you slammed the tequila backwards. “ugh,” you exclaimed with a face, “okay, t, you start since you’re the youngest.”

your best friend leaned forward slightly to roll the dice onto the table, “lord have mercy on me,” the short dark haired girl joked, letting go of the small dice. “it landed on 5! wait, that means everyone tells the truth, right?”

colby nodded as he rubbed his chin, letting his ankle rest on his knee as he crossed them. because you were so cramped up on the small couch, you took advantage of the fact that you now had a bit more space to rest your arms elsewhere instead of having them cramped in between colby and tara, and folded your hands together to rest onto colby’s knee.

“picture your crush or someone you’d like to hook up with,” sam started after he cleared his throat, “what’s your favourite body part of theirs?”

“i actually don’t have anyone i’m crushing on,” sam spoke up, “buuut, i’ve always been a sucker for when a girl has like a nice body shape and isn’t afraid to show it off.”

“shit bro,” colby nodded, “that’s a good one, i’m gonna have to agree with you on that one.”

you knitted your eyebrows together and shot a look at tara, immediately sitting up. “no fucking way!” you exclaimed whilst turning your body slightly to look at him, “you’re not getting away with agreeing with sam! choose your own answer or take a shot.”

“you wouldn’t have agreed with it if y/n or me were going for the same answer either,” tara backed you up, wrapping her arms around your shoulders to pull you in for a side hug. “shot or answer, colbs.”

colby groaned, hating how you two were far too sober because he knew that with a few shots in, neither of you would’ve been onto any rules anymore. “alright! okay,” he shot his hands up in defeat. “i’ll answer then. uhm- i think.. imma have to say neck. and collarbones.”

“really?” sam asked him, his eyes quickly darting to you without you noticing as you were looking at colby. sam noticed how you were wearing a black strapless top after you took off your hoodie before you started the game. he grinned at colby, catching onto what his best friend meant but leaving the two girls in the dark for that matter. “good choice.”

tara nodded her head, “that is a really good choice actually,” she agreed, “god, i’m gonna have to say arms. i’m a sucker for men that have nice arms.”

“every man in the us is now running towards the gym for you, t,” colby joked, flicking her cheek from where his arm was still spread across the head rest of the couch.

“what can i say,” tara shrugged her shoulders playfully, “guess i have that effect.”

all of you laughed at her joke, a sudden flash of anxiety smacking you in the face when you realised you hadn’t answered just yet. you weren’t scared to answer, but knowing that millions of people were gonna know about some of your deepest secrets made you feel a bit uneasy.

“i’m gonna have to say hands,” you spoke up before anyone was able to ask you what your answer to sam’s question was. “i just- i don’t know,” you chuckled, “it’s specifically when they know they have nice hands and wear rings-”

you mentally silenced yourself because you felt like you already overshared for the first question. thankfully tara was quick to agree with you, and you got a small laugh from sam and a huge smirk from colby. oh you definitely overshared.

“okay y/n, your turn,” colby handed you the dice, patiently waiting for you to roll it. it was a 3, which meant all of you had to speak your truths once again. “aye!”

all of your eyes went to sam, since all of you were waiting for him to pick out another question. “i have one,” he announced, “how many shots would it take for you to hook up with the person on your right?”

“sam! did you pick this one because you have a thing for me and finally feel confident enough to let me know?” tara joked, making a kissy face at him.

“absolutely,” he joked back, “in all seriousness though, i think four? you’re fucking terrifying sometimes.”

it caused you to let out a loud laugh, “sam, sweetie, she’s a leprechaun- there’s nothing to be afraid of besides her sarcastic ass remarks and her uppercuts.”

tara sent you a smile before patting sam on the back, “i love you sammy boy, but you’re like my brother anyways so let’s not even think about that,” tara chuckled, swinging her head around to meet your humoured face, “i’d do y/n in a heartbeat, no shots needed.”

the boys hollered loudly as you girls chuckled at their reactions, why was girls loving their friends such a big thing for guys? “oh i love you,” you exclaimed, quickly pecking tara’s puckered lips before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in a hug. “that is likewise! there ain’t no man that’ll ever be enough for us.”

“got humbled real quick,” colby joked as he shook his head, “so zero shots for you to hook up with tara, how many more do you have to take so i stand a chance?”

you tapped your finger against your chin as you pretended to think, “hm,” you hummed, “gosh, maybe- i don’t know? one, maybe two? just for like- liquid courage. colby’s way too experienced.”

“so you’d make out with him now if that was a dare?” sam asked you, eyebrows raised and an amused look spread across his lips. you obviously had the shot at the start of the game and completely forgot about it. looking at sam’s face said enough. he knew exactly what he was doing.

you slightly narrowed your eyes at your blond friend, “are you turning a truth into a dare now?”

“do you want me to?” he fired back, sitting up straight while he waited for you to answer.

you thought about turning it down, but that would mean you had to take a shot. and even if you did that, the answer to what you wanted was already out the roof when you said it would only take a single shot for you to hook up with colby. or well, in this case it was just a silly little kiss.

not answering sam, you turned your gaze towards colby. he had been waiting for you to answer sam with a knot in his stomach and a slight blush covering his cheeks. when you answered sam’s question he was curious to see what you had to say and he was pleasantly surprised.

“oh fuck it,” you mumbled before you grasped colby’s chin in one hand and leaned more towards him to gently place your lips on his. colby was quick to respond by placing his hand on the back of your head to get you even closer as you two deepened the kiss.

it obviously didn’t last long because you were fully aware of the camera’s rolling and two of your best friends being in the same room hollering at you, but when you pulled back colby was quick to pull you in for another peck.

“i was actually just tryna see how far i could go with teasing you,” sam told you with wide eyes, although very amused, “i did not expect that.”

colby hadn’t expected it either. he was looking at you debating it and thought you’d turn it down and take a shot instead, knowing that you didn’t want to stir any drama - but he was glad you did. at this right exactly moment he couldn’t give a shit about anyone apart from you anyways.

after a while, you figured that the viewers went mental. they had literally asked and dared you everything they wanted to, no holding back on their part. some questions weren’t even finished reading before sam grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured all four of you a shot - knowing that neither of you were going to answer.

you must’ve been five shots deep when you sat further back into the couch because tara went to sit om the floor instead, giving you more space to sit onto the couch, so you naturally leaned back and wasn’t surprised to feel the side of colby’s chest against your back.

“so that’s why the couch was so cramped,” you playfully narrowed your eyes at him, “your ego is taking up all the space.”

he let out a loud laugh as you got comfy against his chest, leaning your head against his shoulder while you closed your eyes. “how many more are we doing?” you asked sam, who was now trying to pick a few dares and questions you could at least complete or answer.

colby’s knuckles softly brushed against your shoulder as he felt you calm down, knowing that alcohol made you a bit sleepy. “hey pretty girl,” he mumbled, causing you to look up at him with a sheepish smile. “don’t fall asleep, hm?”

you shook your head slowly, “i’m trying but you’re just so comfy and soft. you smell so nice as well.”

colby found himself smiling at you oversharing your thoughts once again, “hey,” he took your chin in one hand, “thank you for that,” he chuckled softly, “but sam’s got a few more dares for us now. that okay with you, darling?”

you felt how colby’s tumb traced your bottom lip and how his stare was focused on you. this moment was much more intimate than the moment you shared before you quickly kissed him earlier that night, and you weren’t sure why.

maybe it was because the pressure of having a first kiss was off, or because you just felt extremely attracted to your best friend and wanted to kiss the shit out of him once again.

sam had an amused grin on his facs as he looked around the room, noticing you and colby all mushed up together. “okay love birds,” he announced, “and leprechaun,” he patted tara on the head with a chuckle, “i have a dare for y’all. one person has to lick whipped cream off someone elses body, body part of their choice.”

“do we have any volunteers?” tara spoke up, sending sam a glare and look to let him keep his mouth shut. “i mean, i’d do it to you y/n, but i don’t really like whipped cream.”

“neither do i!” sam chirped up, hands shooting up in defeat, nearly causing him to drop his phone. “you make your choice while i grab the goods.”

your friends were so see through when it came to trying to couple you up with colby. backing out of dares so you two had to do them, refusing to answer questions by taking a shot after you and colby did speak up about the truth. it was entertaining to say the least, and neither you or colby actually minded.

“alright pretty boy,” you patted his thigh before sitting up straight, “i kissed you, so it’s only fair you treat me back.”

a grin spread across colby’s face as he nodded his head, “alright, if that’s how you wanna play it.”

he took the can of whipped cream from sam’s grasp as he got up from the couch, motioning you to stand up with him. you weren’t sure why, but you obliged either way.

colby brushed your hair behind your shoulders with one hand as the other shook the can of sticky sweetness. you let out a chuckle as he flipped the cap off, “alright,” he mumbled, starting his line of whipped cream on your left collarbone before dragging the can towards your right one. “that’s a lot actually.”

“can’t put it back in the can anymore,” you laughed softly, noticing how colby’s eyes were trained on your neck. and collarbones.. holy shit.

your eyes widened slightly when you finally put two and two together, understanding that when you all were telling each other about favourite body parts, colby was not talking about collarbones and necks in general - he was talking about yours.

funnily enough, you had been talking about hands with him in the back of your mind.

his hands were steady on your waist, slightly pulling you forward to get easier access to your collarbones. he started off on the left, his tongue slowly dragging across your upper chest. you found it so hard to not let your head fall back and let a moan slip from your lips as you felt his tongue glide against your soft skin.

“oh this is hot,” tara exclaimed, clapping her hands together while watching colby trace down the whipped cream.

his thumbs softly pressed into your waist when he looked back up to meet your gaze. you chuckled, reaching up to get some of the stickiness off his chin. “you didn’t catch it all.”

he shrugged nonchalantly, “we have an entire can left pretty girl,” he teased, “who said i was done already?”

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.

There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!

This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 12k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago. 

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you. 

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance… 

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you. 

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back. 

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!” 

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”       

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you. 

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs. 

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s. 

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean. 

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway. 

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone. 

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up. 

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention. 

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him. 

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall. 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin. 

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least. 

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

 “I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were. 

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.  

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control. 

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise. 

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help. 

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How? 

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then. 

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head. 

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly. 

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him. 

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones. 

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away. 

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why. 

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed. 

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard. 

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that. 

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called. 

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met. 

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning. 

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning: 

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile. 

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam. 

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same. 

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.” 

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently. 

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules.  Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

A/N: Please don't hate me.

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[zepskies]

Love, By Any Other Name

Pairing: Castiel x F. Reader

Summary: You want him. Castiel can’t help but crave you. Dean sees both of you and wishes you’d stop being idiots.

AN: This is my first ever commission! Written for @girlsforpjm, who requested "mutual pining" with Castiel. Here you go, lovely! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 💜

**Also, this is set during season 12.

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, blood and injury, (contains events from 12.12), fluff, some spice, implied smut.

“Achooo!!”

Sam grimaces while he watches you wipe your nose against your bare wrist. You shake your head and frown at the dusty tomes piled high beside you. You and Sam have been organizing the library for two hours now.

“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” you lament. “I need a break. My sinuses need a break.”

Sam’s lips twitch at a smile. “It’s okay. I got the rest of these.”

You aim a lazy salute at your friend and continue to sniffle as you leave the library. You circle this labyrinth of a bunker for a while, but you can’t seem to find the trench coat-wearing angel that’s supposed to live here too.

You end up in the garage, where Dean is tuning up his Baby. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and he’s got a grease stain across his cheek.

“Hey, you seen Cas?” you ask.

Dean barely perks up from under Baby’s hood to answer you. “He went out this morning. Haven’t seen him since.”

You pout at that, leaning against the side of the car near where Dean is tinkering.

“Is it too much to ask for him to leave a note or something?” you mutter.

Dean finally glances over at you. His lips edge at a smirk.

“What, miss your little boyfriend?” he teases.

The insinuation manages to take you by surprise. Your face starts to warm in embarrassment, but you cover it with a scoff.

“You should know. He was your boyfriend first,” you volley back. Dean’s expression flattens in annoyance.

“Don’t you have anything better to do right now?” he snarks.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “P.” But you have mercy on him.

Instead of pestering him further, you just tip over the screwdriver he had balanced on the car’s frame. He makes a sound of protest as it falls somewhere between the gears inside his precious car.

He barks your name, and his angry voice echoes on the walls to magnify his frustration, but you’re already hastening back into the hall and down to the kitchen, trying to stifle your laughter.

You’ve slipped into the kitchen to escape. Yet that’s where you find the bunker’s resident angel, washing his hands of what looks like breadcrumbs in the sink.

“Hey,” you greet him jovially. He treats you with a small smile. “Where were you?”

“Oh, nowhere really. Just stepped out for a bit,” he replies. You get the sense that he’s hiding something. You smile and step closer to him, leaning a hand on the counter.

“Oh, yeah? Where?” you ask. Your eyes gleam with amusement. “Another ‘mission on high?’”

He sends you a droll look. “No.”

You tug on his sleeve. “Come on. Tell me.”

He smiles in return, and he gives you his own version of teasing.

“Childishness doesn’t become you,” he says.

“I’m just curious. You’ve been gone all day,” you reply, tilting your head. Your stare is unyielding, and familiar; Cas knows how stubborn you can be when you want something—especially information. Sometimes he finds it annoying, but in moments like these, it’s tempered by your playful, endearing smile.

“I was on a walk,” he finally admits.

You raise your brows. “A walk? Cas, it’s winter. Like 20 degrees outside.”

“I enjoy nature,” he shrugs. “The cold doesn’t bother me much anyway.”

…Well, he is an angel. You suppose it makes sense that he doesn’t feel the frigid weather like a human would. Your brow quirks with another curious thought.

“So you were washing your hands because…?” you ask.

Castiel’s face becomes a little more bashful. “I was feeding the birds some bread.”

At that, your smile grows. Here he is: Castiel, warrior angel of the Lord, Feeder of Pigeons.

“Well, if you ever want a walking companion, I’d be happy to join you,” you offer.

Castiel gives you a certain look, like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

Your lips purse. “What?”

He sinks his hands into his pockets as he leans his slightly hunched form back on his heels.

“Nothing,” he claims. “It’s only, I seem to remember you forcing Dean to kill a spider in your room. You claimed, and I quote, bastard things that crawl don’t belong indoors.”

You cross your arms and stare back at him narrowly, even though you try to stifle a smile.

“What’s your point? Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” you reason.

He raises a brow. “You also claim to have a vendetta against birds.”

“Pigeons, Castiel. They’re rats with wings.” Even Dean would agree with you on that one.

Castiel gives you a dubious look, however.

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your supposed love of nature,” he says drolly.

You want to argue more, but Sam enters the room with Dean on his heels. Both men seem to sense they’ve interrupted something. You clear your throat and turn to them.

“What’s up?” you ask, more nonchalant than you feel whenever you’re near the angel beside you. Castiel glances at you, before he too silently addresses Sam and Dean.

“Uh, we’ve caught a case,” Sam says. “It’s not far. Three dead, all with their hearts, and most of their internal organs ripped out.”

“Ech,” you reply with a grimace. “Sounds kind of like a ghoul. Maybe a werewolf on steroids?”

“Well, they were fresh kills, and it’s a full moon. So more than likely we’re looking at werewolves,” he replies.

You smile thinly. “Great.”

You hate werewolves.

Correction: you really hate werewolves.

The thought hits you yet again as you lay on the floor of a dusty old hunting cabin.

The irony.

Dean hefts you in his arms, after slicing his silver blade through the heart of the yellow-eyed bastard that tore you open with his claws.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, hating how your voice trembles. Dean doesn’t answer you at first. He holds his hand to the oozing gash in your side.

“Nah, you’ll be okay. Just hang in there,” he says. Blood quickly covers his palm. He curses inside his mind.

“Cas!” he calls out roughly.

The angel had been fighting in the other the room with Sam, but after he burns out the eyes of the last werewolf and its body falls to the ground, he hears the undercurrent of alarm in Dean’s shouting. With Sam on his heels, he returns to the living room to find you and Dean.

Castiel’s steps halt in the doorway when he sees you. His face slackens for a moment, but then he hardens. He moves forward swiftly.

“Move,” he says to Dean in order to come to your side. Dean’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told after laying you down to the floor. 

Castiel stares down at your face, offering you comfort with his eyes. You stare up at him in pain, but also with hope, and trust. You’re able to curl your fingers around the edge of his trench coat.

Then he presses his hand to your cheek. He closes his eyes in concentration while he heals you. 

Though he expels more power than he should to heal you completely. He knows it when his body sways a little after he’s done. Dean grabs his shoulder to keep him steady.

“You good?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods; he’s more focused on the way you’re catching your breath. You marvel at how your wounds, your pain, and even your blood is gone—completely washed away. He helps you sit up with an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Then he gathers you tight against him, so he can help you stand as well. He wavers again on his feet, just a little, but you’re too perceptive not to catch it. You realize he did too much to save you.

You still chide at him with a frown. “You didn’t have to use up so much of your energy.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Think nothing of it.”

Those are useless words, but you don’t bother arguing with him anymore. You just sigh and hold onto his strong arms while regaining your balance. You know for a fact that you’re blushing when you glance up at him.

Biting your lip, you soon turn away to grab the knife you’d dropped in the fight.

Without you or Cas noticing, Sam and Dean share a knowing glance. It’s subtle, in the way the brothers have perfected. Dean barely curbs a smile as he leads the way back to the car. 

You settle next to Cas in the backseat and try not to glance at him too often. You don’t know that he’s trying not to do the same to you.

Dean glances back at you two in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head.

Idiots.

Mary Winchester has been a welcome return to the family…when she’s here. Ever since Amara brought her back, she’s been distant with her sons. You don’t understand it all that well, but it’s not your place to say anything, you don’t think.

You do think Mary is a badass hunter. You just don’t know her that well.

About a week after the werewolf hunt, Mary drops in with Wally, a fellow hunter in need of assistance with a demon problem. You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are all game. While you haven’t had to deal with demons too much in the past, you know that they’re…something of a specialty for the Winchesters. 

But of course, it quickly goes to shit.

The demon lives alone, in some shack by a river where he likes to fish. The group of you wait until he’s stepped out of the house before you go inside and case the place, looking for a good spot to spray a Devil’s Trap or two and try to trap him.

When the demon returns, he’s far stronger than any of you anticipated. The Devil’s Trap breaks with little effort (the demon’s just laughing). Then he flashes yellow eyes. You and Castiel share a look of widening shock. Mary takes a preemptive step back.

And when the kitchen door is about to close on the three of you, the angel pushes you into the next room before you can turn and fight. Sam helps you back onto your feet, though you stare at the door in horror. He and Dean try to break the door down, but it’s no use. It’s supernaturally sealed. 

You felt useless standing there. You wrack your brain for a solution, and you glance out one of the windows. Maybe there’s another way into the kitchen!

“Guys! What if we go around?” you suggest.

With that idea taking root in each of you, Sam and Dean follow you outside. Before you guys can even make it around the house, Wally flags you down. 

“We’ve got incoming!” he says. And you realize what he means. A group of black-eyed demons are bounding toward the house.

Aw, shit. You’re grateful to have Sam and Dean beside you, because the demons nearly overtake all of you. You manage to hold your own, along with the brothers. Wally isn’t so fortunate. His body hits the floor after his own blade sinks into his chest.

A pit begins to form in your stomach as you scramble toward the Impala. The plan is to catch up with Mary; thanks to Cas, she’d been able to flee the demon strong enough to snap a Devil’s Trap like a cheap trick. But she’d then taken Cas with her to safety. 

Now, Dean drives the Impala down the road at breakneck speed. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks his mother through the phone. The car is silent enough for you to hear Mary’s reply.

“…No.”

When you step into the barn, the first thing you have to focus on is Cas covered in his own blood. He’s been stabbed by one of the demon’s strange and powerful weapons, and he lies on an old, dingy couch. You hurry to Cas’s side and take in, your face filled with horror, though you try and fail to mask it. 

You reach out a hand, but you hesitate to touch him. Suffering is written across his face. He tries to stifle sounds of pain out of habit.

Tears are fresh in your eyes as you look down at him in dismay. You chance laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“Can you heal yourself?” you ask.

“No,” he answers eventually. “I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I think I’m…”

No, your lower lip trembles as you shake your head.

“No,” you repeat aloud. “You just need time.”

You turn to Dean, who’s approached from behind you. But you quickly turn back to Cas, as if you’ll miss out on precious few moments. Castiel’s furrowed gaze tells you he’d rather not have you see him like this, but you don’t care. There’s no way you’re leaving his side. 

The weapon that was able to do this to him was the Lance of Michael, you all discover, when Crowley suddenly appears. He also informs you all that this is no ordinary demon. It’s Ramiel, Prince of Hell. You don’t give a shit about the specifics of how Crowley is wrapped up in this.

All you care about is if there’s a cure to Cas’s wounds. Crowley’s only words of wisdom are to leave the angel behind and run as fast as you can. 

He disappears before you can spit at him. 

“Cas, how bad is it?” Dean asks, after the King of Hell predictably makes a run for it. 

Castiel opened up his shirt collar to reveal a spiderweb of black crackling across his clammy skin, slowly breaking down his vessel. 

“Crowley’s right. You should go.”

Your hand tightens on his shoulder. “Cas—”

“No, listen to me,” he says, staring into your eyes. He continues with difficulty. “Look…thank you. Thank you. Knowing you all, it’s been the best part of my life. The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me… You’re my family, and I love you.”

His gaze had fallen on you, making your breath hitch. But his dark blue eyes travel to Sam and Dean next, and even Mary. 

“I love all of you.” The angel is the closest to tears and heartbreak that you’ve ever seen him. He struggles to hold himself together, in more ways than one. “Just, please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, and save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes the sentence. Tears pour down your cheeks in silent streams, but you still hold him down when he tries to force his body to sit up. He doesn’t have the strength to resist you encouraging him to lie back down. 

Dean voices what you’re all thinking.

No. None of you would cut and run and leave him to die, no matter what Cas says. 

“Like you said, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

Ramiel comes for all of you, specifically for his stolen weapon. Killing the rest of you would just be an added bonus.

But while the four of you manage to pin down the demon with holy fire and a good fight, it’s Sam who manages to stab the Prince of Hell with Michael’s Lance, killing him in flash of brilliant light and rendering his body to ash. 

Of course, that’s when Crowley arrives once again, late holding his proverbial Starbucks. In this case, what would’ve been a mocha frappe is actually the Lance—and Crowley breaks it in half. It somehow reverses the curse of the blade, and therefore frees Castiel. 

He’s able to heal himself back to a full recovery. 

But also, rather predictably, Crowley disappears again before you all can recover yourselves. 

Sam and Dean help the angel back onto his feet. His clothes are still covered in blood, but his skin is clear and no longer clammy, his eyes no longer bloodshot. He’s shocked to still be alive, and you can barely contain yourself. Tears stream down your face as you surprise him with a hug.

Cas releases an oof, his body wavering just slightly before he plants his feet and wraps his arms around you. His hold tightens around your smaller frame, and he chances resting his chin on the top of your head.  

“So…you’re good?” Mary asks incredulously. 

Castiel raises his gaze to answer her. “I guess I am.”

You’re quiet for the rest of the drive home. Mary had taken her own car for the hunt, so it leaves you once again in the backseat with Castiel.

He finds your silence perturbing, though he doesn’t have the courage to ask you what’s wrong. Despite his full recovery, you still seem upset somehow. 

Part of him wants to reach out to you…but he stops himself. He also reminds himself not to stare at you. Instead, he turns his head back out the window. You felt his gaze on your profile, but you resolve to keep yours stubbornly out of your own window. 

The only one who notices the exchange, yet again through the rearview mirror, is Dean. His lips firm into a thoughtful frown. 

Home, sweet home, you think wryly when you enter the bunker. 

You give into the urge to beeline straight for your room without even turning your head. 

Sam and Mary follow suit, which leaves Castiel hesitating in the hall. Dean takes pity on him and claps his shoulder. 

“You okay, man?” he asks. Cas is staring after you like a man who’s lost his way.

“She’s…upset,” he replies, both confused and bothered by that fact.  

Dean’s lips twitch humorlessly. “Yeah, well, you almost died.”

“Yes,” Cas gives a wry nod. “But she seems upset at me.”

Dean has to smile for real. It’s plain as day what’s on his friend’s mind, and why. Just like it’s obvious as hell (at least to him) why you’re probably “upset.” As always, Dean takes up the role of wingman. 

“Why don’t you just go talk to her then?” he suggests.

Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if he’d be intruding on you. The emotions of human women are foreign to him. They always have been, even when he was human, not so long ago. But he trusts Dean’s advice on these things.

So, he eventually nods. He means to follow you, but Dean stops him for a moment with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe after you, uh, wash your clothes. Take a shower. Maybe shave a little,” he says, brushing his fingers over his own chin. “But uh, keep a little scruff. Some chicks dig that.”

“Shave my facial hair, but…keep my facial hair?” Cas tries to clarify. 

Dean blinks at his friend. Christ.

 “Okay, look, just clean yourself up,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

With one last clap on the back, Dean disappears down the hall to his room. It leaves Castiel feeling somewhat unbalanced, but he treks the other way.

Normally he would restore his clothes with his powers, but he’d used up his reserves just to heal himself. There was a time when his connection to heaven was enough to do more than heal his own injuries. Now, however, both he and heaven itself are in a lesser state. 

Shaking his head, he goes down to the laundry room. He still remembers how to wash his own clothing. 

He unintentionally finds you there in the laundry room. You’ve peeled away your jacket that had been stained with his blood, and you’re tossing it into the machine. It leaves you in a thin shirt and jeans.

Castiel finds himself admiring your form; the familiar curve of your face, the shade of your hair, the outline of your bra through your shirt (which he tries not to notice), and the other curves that he has to often felt guilty for tracing with his eyes…and imagining with his hands.  

You look up when he enters the room.

He knocks himself out of his thoughts and freezes, a bit uncertain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers.

You just shake your head. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes roam over him then, from head to toe. It makes his face feel a bit warm.

“You want me to throw that coat in with mine?” you ask, pointing over to him. Cas examines his bloody trench coat.

“I’m not sure there’s any saving it, but we can try,” he says. He peels off the coat and allows you to throw it into the watching machine along with your bloody clothing.

“Your shirt’s white, so you should wash that separately,” you advise.

“I know,” he says, with a faint smile. “I, uh, I remember.”

You begin to regain some of your normal self, glancing at him with more warmth in your eyes. 

“Do you ever miss being human?” you ask. Cas draws closer to you. He rests a hand near yours, where you lean on the dryer. 

“There were some enjoyable aspects. Food, in particular,” he admits. “Now if I try to take a bite of a sandwich, it’s just…molecules, really.”

You wince in sympathy. “God, I don’t know how I could go through life without being able to enjoy another Snickers bar.”

He nods in agreement. He remembers chocolate well.

“But it wasn’t just the taste. It was the feeling of satiety. Sometimes, being uncomfortably full was quite satisfying,” he says. That makes you smile. 

But it soon drops when you take in the disgusting state of his shirt. Unbidden, it reminds you of every horrific thing that happened tonight. You really can’t bear it. 

“Okay, give me that,” you gesture at the shirt.

You start to unbutton it before he’s really ready for you, but he tries to get over his embarrassment by removing his tie. Meanwhile, you undo the buttons of his shirt while trying not to think too hard about what you’re really doing as you start to see flashes of his skin, from chest to sternum.

He takes a peek at your face. 

“Are you angry?” he asks. 

Your brows are furrowed, but this time more in confusion when you look up at him. 

“No. Why?” 

Cas’s brows furrow. “It feels like you’re angry…at me.”

The hasty motions of your hands calm at that. You consider him with a frown. Maybe you are a little upset at him. It’s not really fair, you know, but it’s how you feel. You blow out a sigh. 

“I just… After everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for us, how could you think for one second that we would leave you there alone? Alone to die?” you ask. It renders Castiel a bit stunned into silence. 

Your grip tightens on the now open edges of his shirt.

“Look, that situation was bad enough. But if you ever try to push me away like that again…”

You’re unable to finish that thought. You become waylaid by your own tears as emotion clogs your throat and threatens to choke you. 

Castiel raises a hand to touch your face, tentatively at first, then more comforting. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, catching the tears there. 

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” he confesses. “I was trying to save you…because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, even as I lay dying.”

You hold onto his hand. Biting your lower lip, you find enough courage to meet his eyes. They’ve lowered to your lips, you realize, though maybe Cas doesn’t. He seems a bit surprised when you lean up towards him.

You go more slowly. Your hand falls on his warm chest. For God’s sake, do something, you tell yourself. 

You don’t know if he can pick up on your thoughts as well with your bodies touching this close, but he seems to have an internal battle of his own. You each make a decision at the same time.

It has you leaning up the rest of the way, and Castiel bending down to meet your kiss.  

He gathers you closer; one hand finds its way into your tangled hair, while the other grasps your hip and brings you flush against him. Your hands move up his chest and wind around his neck. He holds you tightly against him as his lips claim yours, over and over with increasing urgency. 

He turns you in his arms and hefts you up onto the dryer machine. There he gets even more leverage to kiss you the way he has secretly imagined, to touch you the way he’s too often craved, with his hands warming up and down your thighs.

You utter a moan of longing as you hold his face. You like the scrape of his stubble against your palms. You can almost imagine that delightful tingling against otherplaces down your body. Places you’d like him to explore when you have more privacy…

Or maybe here is privacy enough.

You alternatively tangle and tug your fingers through his hair. And it’s his turn to moan when you take his lower lip between your teeth, scraping just hard enough to be both painful and delightful.

He squeezes your thighs in retaliation. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer. Your dirty boots cross behind his back.

But soon, his touch gentles, more tender than demanding as he slows the kiss. His lips veer from yours and burn a path across your jawline, down the smooth column of your neck.

It allows you to catch your breath, but the feeling of his gentle lips and rough cheek just turns you on even more. You card your fingers through his hair and close your eyes. 

“Cas,” you breathe in content. 

He hesitates, with his lips on your neck. “Yes?”

You blink for a moment, but then you have to giggle. You twine your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“Nothing,” you reply. Your smile says it all though. Cas sees it when he pulls away a bit, turning his gaze back to you. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I didn’t think feelings such as this…desires like this, would affect me after I became an angel again.”

Your smile brightens, even as you blush. “Does that make me special?”

“Yes,” he replies, with a soft smile. “But for many more, and far better reasons than that.”

Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You bite the edge of your lower lip, but Cas’s thumb swiping across encourages you to release it.

“When you said that you loved me,” you say, a little shakily, “did you just mean…in the family sense?”

Castiel meets your eyes, and there he finds his courage. 

“Yes,” he says. “And no.”

With another one of those smiles he’s come to love, you bring him back in for a kiss. All too soon, it becomes hungrier, rougher, born of passion and secret desires finally spilling free. 

“Wait,” you pant against his lips, taking his hands in yours. “Come with me.”

Anywhere, his heart says.

But after you jump down from the dryer, you tug him by the hand out of the laundry room. After a quick scan of the hallway, you give him a playful little smile and lead him down to your room.

Castiel can’t help but smile in return. He follows your lead in more ways than one when the door to your bedroom shuts behind you both.

You help him shrug off his tattered shirt, and he helps you out of yours next, followed swiftly by the belt buckle on his slacks. 

In that moment, and many moments after, you’re grateful for door locks. You just hope the Winchesters aren’t dumb enough to interrupt what you have planned next for your angel…

Because it might just take all night.

AN: I haven't written for Castiel in a long time, but I had fun with this. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 😘

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[danny-phantom-x-reader]

What if, instead of danny getting hit by Ember's guitar it's the reader who becomes obsessed with danny

He would literally love that- I hope you like this:(

Danny's Version: Love Obsession

Everything happened so fast. One minute you were trying to help Danny catch Ember and the next thing you know a blue light hit you and you went unconscious. You could hear Danny's voice, but you couldn't wake up.

Danny quickly rushed to your side, creating a distraction for Ember to get away. He could hear her mocking laugher echo across the room, but he paid her no mind. "Y/n?" He pushed some of the hair out of your face, before stroking your cheek. "Y/n, wake up. Please." He begged, tears slowly starting to build.

The tears stopped when seeing you slowly open your eyes. He quickly hugs you, his arms tightly wrapping around you.

"Oh, Y/n I was so scared." He looks at you, finally getting a good look at you, only for confusion to overtake his face when seeing your lovesick face. "Y/n, are you okay?"

"You're so cute when you're confused, Danny," You slur inbetween giggles.

Your words cause Danny's face to erupt in a dark red. His eyes quickly scan the stadium, hoping to find Tucker or Sam to maybe figure out what was wrong with you but neither friend was in sight.

You pull his chin towards you, forcing him to look at you. "I could look at you all day... You're just so beautiful."

Don't get him wrong, Danny had always liked you, admittedly to much, but still. He knew that your words were being influenced by Ember's guitar and it would just be false hope for him to get sucked into the validation, no matter how nice it was to hear.

"That's great, because I think you're really pretty."

"Yeah?" You blush, getting up on your elbows, creating a near nonexistence distance between you and Danny. Your noses were nearly touching. "So... You love me too?"

"Excuse me?" He says with wide eyes, not knowing how else to respond. Thankfully you just giggle and fall limp into his arms.

---

Danny had tried getting you to his car, but you had attached yourself to his hip. You were like a koala with how you clung to his arm. Your pupils were dilated and never left Danny's figure. You didn't want to look away and him disappear.

"Danny?"

He looked at you, making your face turn a light pink. "Yeah?"

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" You tilt your head, a goofy smile on your face.

"Uh- No, I guess not."

"Well, I do..."

"I know."

---

Danny was thankful for his extra strength and all that ghost hunting, because walking with you was a breeze- Or at least easier than he thought it would be. Danny was thankful when he finally got you into the car. Though, now you were staring at him and it was making him nervous. He didn't necessarily mind your attention, but it was giving him anxiety.

"Hey Y/n?"

"Yeah?" You sigh happily, leaning your chin on your hand.

He looks over at you, sheepishly smiling. "I like you, but do you think you can back up and look at you. I can't focus knowing that you're watching me."

You looked at him confused, "What? Why?"

"Well, with someone as beautiful as you, how can I possible put my attention on anything else when you're giving me yours."

"But you're so handsome and I like looking at you."

"Well, if you really like-"

"Love. I love you." You interrupted, offended that he would say 'like' when your feelings were much stronger.

"Right... Love." Danny knew it wasn't real, but was it really bad to enjoy this? To enjoy your love and affection? No- It couldn't be. This was a reward for all the people he's saved and the bad things that have happened to him. He was finally getting his good karma. "If you love me, you'll stop staring at me, as much as I love it, just until we get to your house.

You sigh, but ultimately listen to him and look out the window, giving Danny some privacy, but now his eyes were being drawn to you, much to his embarrassment. He knew you'd never liked a guy like him- Not without some love potion or spell, but was it bad for him to wish it was real? Your love was something he's always wanted and maybe he should take advantage of it...

---

"Alright Y/n," He sighs as he lays you down on your bed. "I'm going to help you."

"Help? What do you mean?"

He grabs your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes. "You are under Ember's spell. This," He gestures between you both. "isn't real."

"It's real to me," You say on the verge of tears and Danny is quick to backtrack.

"Of course it's real. But... It's not authentic?" He says it like a question, which just confuses you.

"So... Something's wrong with me?"

"What?" His face turns a dark red and he quickly shakes his head. "No, no. Of course not. Nothing could ever be wrong with you. You're perfect. The perfect girl."

"Really?"

"Of course." He smiles, but is distracted when hearing his phone ring. "It's Sam."

"Sam?" You grab his hand, causing him to look at you. You pull him onto the bed and you get on top of him, practically straddling him. He tries to sit up, but you push him up. "Why is Sam calling you? What you like her better or something?"

"What? No, no. I need her and Tucker to help you-"

"You keep saying that. Helping me. I don't need help."

"Yes you do, whether you realize it or not," He then pushes you to the side of the bed so he can get up and grab his phone.

"Why call anyone? Why can't we just keep living like this?"

"Oh, Y/n. You would be pissed if I did anything without you realizing it."

"Why can't you just accept that I love you?"

"Because it's not real... I just wish you'd stop saying it, cause I hate hearing it... You don't mean it." Danny frowns, dialing the phone back and you don't respond back.

---

"Okay, Y/n, you've got to snap out of it."

"Snap out of what?"

Tucker frowns at his best friend, before gesturing around your room that was covered in pictures of Y/n.

"What? Most guys would kill for a girl to like looking at him."

"Y/n it's creepy."

"Is it? If I had pictures of you, would that be creepy?"

He thinks about it for a second before making a face of 'Well- Maybe you've got a point.'

"Besides, what's creepy about being in love?"

Tucker looks back at Danny, "Do you really want her to stop being like this? I mean..." He puts his hands up, "She's obsessed with you. That's every man's dream."

"It's not real. If she meant it, it'd be different." Danny gets up from his seat and shakes your shoulders, "Snap out of it!"

"Danny, stop shaking her!" Tucker pulls Danny off. "Maybe, if we destroy Ember's guitar, Y/n will go back to normal."

"Ember? Who's Ember?"

Tucker pulls out a poster from his backpack, "This is Ember. The girl who made you like this." He points to a time and date at the bottom of the poster. "And she has a show tonight."

---

Danny glares at the blue-haired lady, not paying much attention to the fans around him. They were all being controlled by her music, but he cared more about the fact that she had taken control over Y/n. He loved Y/n, but he wanted her love for him to be authentic, not fake.

"Where's Danny?"

Tucker looks over at you wide eyed. If you saw Danny, you would cling to him and ruin the whole plan. Tucker puts his hand on your biceps, "Uh, I think I saw him go this way," And then he leads you off.

Danny looks at some of the equipment before getting the bright idea to climb them to get a better chance at getting Ember. When he reaches the top, he looks over the crowd, surprised to see you and Tucker so close.

As if you could sense his eyes, you look up to see Danny, before calling to him. Though, Tucker is quick to hush you up, so Ember doesn't hear. But it was too late, because Ember looked up and smirked when seeing Danny.

Danny is quick to dodge her attack and begins to fight her. Neither side was winning and you couldn't help but feel guilty that you weren't helping. You grabbed Tucker's bag and pulled out a ghost weapon, a crossbow, before aiming it and hitting Ember's arm. It caused Ember to yell and Danny to get a shot at her, but she was still too strong for it to hurt her.

Thankfully, Sam was the only one who wasn't under any influence and grabbed Tucker and pushed him on the stage and told him to sing. His singing was so bad that it ended up breaking the spell everyone was under.

You looked around confused, like everyone else, before you saw Danny and Ember fighting. You look around, before finding a ghost capsule and yelling Danny's name, before throwing it to him and he quickly captures her.

---

"What even happened?"

Danny laughs, "Nothing... Really."

"Well, whatever I did, it must have been bad. I feel like I did something bad-"

You open your bedroom door, only for your face to turn a bright red when seeing the walls covered with photos of Danny. "What the fu-"

"Yeah... Uh, you did that."

"Why are there photos of you everywhere?"

"It's a long story. Uh, short version? You were under a love spell."

"Great. Well, whatever I did, I hope it doesn't ruin our friendship."

"A ghost could never make me stop caring about you." Danny tells you, causing you to blush.

"That's good to hear, because it seems that I went crazy."

"Yeah, but I kind of liked the attention, especially from you."

You sheepishly smile, before entering your room, "Well, I better get started on removing these photos. Thank you, Danny. Seriously. For putting up with me."

"It was nothing. Truly."

You close your door, before sighing and leaning on your door. You start to take the photos down, some weirding you out, because where did you get the photos?

After hours of doing that, when you get on the final few, you decide to leave the last one up, because it was a good photo and you wouldn't mind looking at Danny...

[iateyourparents]

I love you stories, and you should do one where reader doesn’t say I love you back with Sam or Colby ❤️❤️

i love you | s.g.

pairing: sam golbach x fem!reader

summary: you decided to prank your boyfriend by not saying i love you back as a pay back.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language), not proofread

an: thank you love<33 actually i already did it with colby (colby’s version) so this one is sam’s version!

pictures are from pinterest:)

You were mad at Sam.

Alright, maybe mad is too strong of a word.

You were annoyed by Sam. He ate your favorite candies from your stash and didn’t even restock it later. AND he only laughed at you when you told him you’re mad at him.

So you decided to pay him back. You were torn between not kissing him and not speaking to him for as long as possible but you already knew it would be a lost battle, you couldn’t go a day without speaking to him and even more without kissing him, so you came with another solution.

You will be ignoring his love affirmations, or rather not saying them back.

You knew he loved hearing ‘I love you’ from you so it would be a torture for him. But at least he will remember not to mess with your food anymore.

So currently you were laying in bed, checking your social media while Sam was still sleeping next to you. It was almost 9 am so you knew he would wake up soon.

And you were right, cause no longer than twenty minutes later, Sam started to reposition himself a couple of times and eventually opened his eyes.

You smiled softly at his cute sleepy face “Good morning love.”

“Hi baby.” his voice was raspy and he was trying not to close his eyes in fear of falling asleep again. After a moment he moved and leaned almost all of his body on yours, hugging you “How did you sleep?”

“Good, and you?” you started combing through his hair with your fingers and you could hear him sighing contently.

“Great.” he yawned and you tried not to coo at how cute he looked, instead you kissed his head and reminded yourself to not say ‘I love you’ that really wanted to get out of your mouth in that moment.

You laid like that for a few more minutes, Sam trying to wake up completely and you trying to cherish this moment before you would have to get up on go on with your day.

Finally Sam rised, leaning on his forearms, and kissed you. And then your cheek and nose. You giggled but didn’t stop him, so he started peppering your face with little kisses.

“I have to go to gym soon.” he pouted “I promised Colby I would go with him before 12 am.” he whined and you laughed, kissing his forehead.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping for quiet morning in bed.” Sam whined again at your words.

“Stop, you’re making me want to cancel and if I will Colby will kill me.” he placed his forehead on your shoulder.

“Poor boy.” you cooed kissing side of his head. That’s why you didn’t decided to not kiss him for as long as possible, you were too weak to resist kissing him. He was addicting.

“Do you have plans for later? We could spend rest of the day on the couch watching some movies.” he offered, his voice kind of muffled by your shoulder.

“I was supposed to go shopping with Amanda but I’m sure she won’t mind if I reschedule.” you shrugged.

“Great.” he smiled at you, lifting his head after kissing your shoulder “I love you.”

You smiled widely and kissed him to not make it suspicious that you didn’t say it back. He gladly deepened the kiss not caring that none of you had brushed your teeth yet.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked when you disconnected your lips and he started getting up.

“I already ordered a breakfast from this french coffee shop. I took you your favorite.” you smiled at him “It should be here soon.”

“God I love you.” he sighed and you laughed “Do you want tea or something?”

“Tea would be great, thank you baby.” Sam went to the kitchen while you finally got up and went to bathroom to do your morning routine and moment later Sam also came into the bathroom to start his routine.

“Tea is waiting on the counter.” he informed you squeezing toothpaste on his toothbrush.

“Thank you.” you kissed his cheek after you rinsed your face from cleansing gel.

After you ate breakfast together Sam started getting ready to the gym and you started mentally preparing yourself for his leaving cause you knew it would be hardest part in your little challenge, because he wouldn’t leave without hearing you say ‘I love you’.

You were cleaning a coffee table when Sam came into the living room.

“I’m going baby.” he pouted standing behind you and putting his arms around your middle “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too love.” you turned in his arms and hugged him.

“I love you.” he said placing his head in your neck.

You hummed quietly to yourself, scratching his neck delicately.

“I love you, baby.” he repeated after a moment of silence. When you still didn’t answer he took his head from your neck and looked you in the eyes “I love you, y/n.”

You smiled at him and kissed his jaw. He frowned and you could see a pout starting to form on his lips.

“Did I do something wrong?” he tilted his head and your face made you feel bad.

“You ate all of my kinder buenos and bounties.” you reminded with a small pout and Sam looked at you with dumbfounded expression.

“You’re not saying I love you because I ate your candies?”

“And laughed at me when I was mad!” you reminded with slight frown and he laughed, that made you shake off his arms of you and take a step back. “You’re laughing again!” you accused.

“Oh baby.” he took a step in your direction and held your arms when you tried to take next step back “I’m sorry for my unforgivable acts. I feel so bad and I hope you won’t stop loving me because of this.” he acted like an actor from old comedy show and you tried to suppress your smile.

“Go to the gym already.” you rolled your eyes.

“I love you.” he kissed your cheek.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too.” you rolled your eyes again, this time you couldn’t stop your smile.

And Sam being Sam of course couldn’t let you be mad at him for any longer, so coming back from the gym he bought you tons of your favorite sweets. Literally a definition of perfect husband material.

[purple-babygirl]

Hi! I just discovered your blog and i love your writing so so much! I wanted to ask if it's not too much work if you could give us a Sambucky version of something lent instead of it being Sebastian and Anthony? It's totally fine if you don't want to or don't have time. I hope you have a wonderful day!

something lent (SamBucky version)

Pairing: Mob!Sam Wilson x f!reader x Mob!Bucky Barnes Word Count: 8,326 (i know) Summary: Sharing is caring, no? Warnings: 18+ content. pure smut with little plot, nsfw, Mob AU, mention of a safe word, petnames, use of a butt plug, oral (m and f receiving), deep throating, vaginal and anal penetration, fingering, cuckolding, exhibitionism, voyeurism, choking, dom/sub dynamics, sir kink, threesome (m x f x m), multiple orgasms, squirting, one face slap, slight degradation. This is nothing but self-indulgent filth. A/N: thank you for being so patient, nonnie i know it's been a week. i understand that not a lot of people are comfortable reading RPF especially smut and that's okay. i rewrote you a SamBucky version like you asked. please enjoy xx💜 ~~~~ She didn’t mind being Bucky’s pet. She actually loved it. She was a nobody when he first found her, an innocent, feeble soul for him to corrupt and own. She didn’t put up much of a fight when he told her he wanted her because back then she needed what he’d offered. But now she couldn’t imagine being without him.

Bucky stole her heart and she gladly let him, never having felt safer. He gave her a life, made her the princess of his mansion and heart. He had all that he could possibly want in the palm of his hand but she remained his most precious possession.

“Do you trust me, puppy?” Bucky asked, his hand cupping her cheek gently.

“With my life, sir.” She gave a genuine smile, leaning into his warm touch. She was in position, on her knees for him by the front door just the way he liked. Bucky had told her to wait there and she obediently has been for the past hour, just awaiting his arrival to their home.

She was his obedient, little puppy; his submissive, good girl. Bucky loved her more than anything in the world and he never thought a day where he’d want to share her would come. But Sam needed to be persuaded if Bucky wanted any part in that new deal. They were friends, yes, but business was business. And it wasn’t like Bucky missed how his girl would secretly check the man out whenever he would stay for dinner. How dare he deny her whatever her heart desired?

So maybe for one night, just one, for these ‘compelling circumstances’, Bucky could manage to share her with Sam. Just one night.

“If I wanted you to do something, you’d be a good girl for me, wouldn’t you? You’d make me proud?”

Sam was at the end of the room with a devious smirk on his face, knowing he had Bucky right where he wanted him. This deal wasn’t going to be his unless Sam let him have it and Sam’s price was high. “Babygirl, come to the office. Daddy's angry.” Bucky said into the phone and the man before him swallowed harshly. In less than a minute, there was a shy knock on the door and she peeked before sauntering inside, but Bucky tsked, shaking his head. “You know better, puppy.” She dropped to her knees on the hard marble at the mention of her pet name, crawling like an animal till she reached Bucky's chair. “Good pup, open,” he ordered, tapping his hard cock on her cheek. “Sir, is this really necessary?” The man gulped when he heard her gag under the desk. “I'm putting my cock down her throat so I won't put a bullet down yours. Would you like that better?” Bucky growled, withdrawing from her mouth briefly before sliding back inside, making her gag. “N-No, sir. Forgive me.” “Continue talking then.”

Later that day, Sam got the courage to ask for what he really wanted while he had the chance. “What's it gonna take for you to give me that deal, Wilson?” he asked, stretching his legs out on his large desk. “A taste of your puppy.” “What!!” Bucky let his legs down, his eyes throwing daggers at Sam. “I want a night with her.”

“She's no whore and she's mine.” “I know. Makes me want her even more.” Bucky only glared in reply. “Just one night, have her at my mercy and do whatever I want with her, and then we'll talk about that deal.” “Yes, sir. Always.” She didn’t know what he was talking about, but no matter what he wished from her, she knew that would be her answer. She existed to make Bucky pleased and proud.

“Sam is with me. He’s waiting outside,” Bucky informed her, thumb caressing her cheek and soft blue eyes gauging her reaction.

“Would he be staying for dinner?”

She was kind of screwed if that was the case because she’s only prepared dinner for two, knowing how much her sir hated it when they wasted food.

“If you’re the meal, yes,” Bucky chuckled darkly.

“W-What?”

“I’m thinking about lending you to Sam tonight, baby girl. It’s business-related. What do you say?”

Lending. It was only fitting, considering she was Bucky’s property. She knew that and she treasured it. She didn’t need him to explain how this was related to his work or why she was expected to help. She trusted Bucky. She also couldn’t deny that Sam was hotter than the hell she might end up burning in because of all the things she let and continues to let Bucky do to her.

“Whatever you want, sir. You know best,” she echoed his words to him, wanting him to know she trusted him and was up for whatever he wanted to do with her. And if what he wanted just happened to be lending her to Sam Wilson, whatever that meant, then who was she to say no?

“Baby girl, you don’t have to. If you don’t want to, tell me now,” Bucky calmly told her; wanting her to refuse now if she had it in her.

He didn’t want to pressure her into doing anything, especially this. If his girl didn’t want to do this, then to hell with their deal; he was sending Sam home.

“It’s okay, sir. I want to,” she muttered shyly.

“What was that?” Bucky smirked.

“I-I want you to lend me to Sam tonight,” she stuttered.

“You’re one good slut, puppy.” Bucky sighed in pride, his touch leaving her.

“Sir,” her smaller hand got hold of his before he could walk to the front door to let Sam in, “you’re gonna be there, right?”

“Of course, baby girl. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her, kissing the top of her coconut-smelling head.

“Okay.” She nodded and let out a relieved huff as she watched him welcome Sam inside.

“Hey, baby,” Sam warmly smiled at her, as if she wasn’t literally kneeling at his feet and he wasn’t there to bang her brains out.

“Hello, Sa-” She stopped herself, not sure if she was allowed to call him Sam.

“Sir?” Her lost eyes found Bucky’s, not wanting to be anything but good for him. He immediately understood.

“She wants to know if she can call you by your name,” Bucky explained to a slightly confused Sam.

“Oh, yeah! I was hoping you’d be screaming it tonight, babe, so,” Sam shrugged flirtatiously, giving her a lopsided smirk that made her heart flutter. Bucky felt a minor tug at his own when he saw her bite back a smile.

Was this a good idea? Even if it wasn’t; it was sort of too late to go back now.

“Alright, do you remember your rules, puppy?” Bucky asked, changing subjects.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded with a smile.

“Wait, what are her rules?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you tell Sam about our rules while I get a drink, baby girl?” Bucky suggested before reluctantly walking to the kitchen to fetch glasses. He needed something to help him bear what was about to happen.

She looked up at Sam with her wide, puppy eyes, waiting for him to second her permission to speak. He realized that must be where she got her pet name from now. “Go ahead, baby,” Sam told her, his thick fingers twirling some of her waves around his fingers, playing tenderly with the hairs.

Shit, she was nervous.

“I- um- I’m not allowed to speak unless I’m spoken to, or move unless sir tells me to. I’m not allowed to touch sir or myself without permission,” she recited like the good girl she was for Bucky, and was soon to be for Sam, “not allowed to address sir by his name, and I’m not allowed to- to cum without permission either.”

Her face was flushed when she got to the last rule as Sam’s fingers, now fully immersed in her scalp, moved her head upwards to face him. She wondered if Sam’s eyes were originally this dark or if they were darkening like her sir’s did during their scenes.

“Good girl. And you know you can stop us both at any point, any second, just whenever you feel like it’s too much or if you’re overwhelmed,” Bucky reminded her. He was very protective of her, and her safety was his first priority.

“I know, sir.” She nodded, smiling lovingly at the caring man reappearing before her.

“What’s your safe word, puppy? He asked her, handing Sam his drink.

Sam let go of her hair and took the glass, sipping on the drink as he intently eyed her sundress-clad body.

“Red,” she said her word out loud.

She was so proud of herself for never having used it before, and she wasn’t intending on using it anytime soon either. Bucky never pushed her to the point where she needed her safe word. But it made Bucky feel better to know she remembered she had a way out; the option to stop. It was important to him that she knew that he would never let anything happen to her without her consent and desire, so she didn’t mind when he did this every time before a heavy session. If anything, the anticipation of what she presumed to come made her leak in her panties.

“That’s right. And you’re gonna use it if you need to, yes, puppy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what if you can’t talk?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at the question.

“I tap your nearest body part 3 times.”

“Show Sam how you do it.” Bucky nodded towards his friend.

She obediently lifted a hand up and tapped the back of Sam’s thigh three consecutive taps.

“Did you feel that?” Bucky asked him, wanting to make sure her touches were recognizable.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded.

“Okay, and what if you can’t move your hands, baby girl?”

“I close my eyes shut and sir will stop right away.”

“That’s right. And other than that?”

“I’m never allowed to break eye contact with sir if my mouth is busy,” she told him her last, unofficial rule.

“Good girl. Now go wait in the bedroom while I have a word with Sam, puppy.” Bucky kissed her forehead.

Without another word, she got up and left, her heart beats racing her up the stairs.

“What kind of shit do you do to your girl, man? Why wouldn’t she be able to talk or touch?!”

“Be a little patient and you might find out tonight.” Bucky downed the rest of his drink.

“Now, for your rules,” Bucky started.

“My rules?” Sam chuckled.

“You’re not allowed to cum in her pussy. That’s mine to fill,” Bucky continued, looking as stern as Sam’s ever seen him.

“Alright, fair enough.”

“I want you to make sure she’s using please and thank you or else you punish her.”

“Copy that.” Sam smirked. He was almost as sadistic as Bucky was. Almost.

“If she says her safe word you stop at once. I don’t care what you’re doing, you stop it.” Bucky’s tone left no room for messing around. He was serious about this. If they were going to do it, they were going to do it right.

“Alright, man. If she says stop I stop.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I said.” Bucky smirked, shaking his head.

“Wha-”

“If she says stop, keep going. She doesn’t mean it.” Bucky smirked wider, “if she says red, however, your touch instantly leaves her.”

“Are you sure about this?” Sam frowned.

“Yeah, she loves to beg.” He smiled fondly at the thought of his perfect girl pleading before walking to the stairs, “You comin’?”

~

When both men entered the room, Sam’s eyes darkened even more at what they were met with.

She was out of her dress. Her hair was now tied up in a ponytail, her cheeks glowing, arms bent behind her back and her folded knees parted. Her rounded breasts were on display, hard nipples hiding behind the thin lace. She looked delicious, ripe and ready for the taking. And boy was Sam ready to take.

Her heart was thrumming in her ears. She knew all the gentleness from downstairs was about to vanish. She knew she was about to be treated like a fucktoy by both of these mob men and she couldn’t wait.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” Sam whispered, taking in the simple, rose lingerie hugging her body and licking his lips.

“Show Sam what you got for your birthday, puppy,” Bucky ordered, closing the bedroom door behind him.

She swallowed shyly before turning around and bending forward to give Sam a full view of her ass and the red jewel peeking out from between its cheeks, the thin string of her thong doing nothing to cover it.

Bucky’s gotten her a lot of stuff on her birthday, but this glass butt plug was among her top favourties. It was big enough to hurt just the right amount. He knew she couldn’t feel pleasure without it being mixed with a little pain. He knew everything there was to know about her inside out.

She had no idea why Bucky told her to slip the plug in that morning but she knew better now and she was dripping wet with excitement. Her face was hot because she knew this wasn’t a mere show. Bucky was letting Sam know he could fuck her ass if he wanted to and she was more than ready for him to do just that.

“Holy fuck.” Sam felt his pants tighten when he saw the toy held inside her ass. The grown man almost made grabby hands at the sight.

“You can turn back around now, baby girl.”

She did and her eyes looked up to Bucky as a matter of habit, her heart running a marathon in her chest.

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk proudly at Sam’s reaction, jealousy no longer that present in his system. He gave his girl one adoring, reassuring smile before walking and sitting down on the couch facing the side of their bed. He was more ready than he’d realized he was to sit in the only front row seat available and enjoy the show that was about to start.

She, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle, her eyes looking back down at the floor after meeting Bucky’s, focusing on Sam’s shiny shoes. Her hands remained behind her back and her thighs remained open while she kneeled on the floor by the end of the bed.

“What am I gonna do with you, baby?” Sam whispered lustfully, one finger lifting her chin up.

Her eyes wanted to flicker to Bucky for permission, but she reminded herself she was Sam’s for the night. Bucky has lent her to him. She was to take her orders and get her permissions from Sam now.

“Sam asked you a question, puppy.” Bucky’s voice snapped her out of her trance, indirectly reminding her of the rules she was supposed to follow. She had to focus if she wanted to make Bucky proud. She had to be his good girl even if it meant being so for another man while he watched. Especially if it meant being so for another man while he watched.

“A-Anything you want, Sam.” Her answer drew a wicked smile on Sam’s full lips.

“You know I respect you, right?” He asked, his tone serious, confusing her for a second.

“Yes?”

“Good, remember that ‘cause I’m gonna fuck you like I don’t tonight.” Sam smirked and patted her cheek before walking and taking a seat next to Bucky on the couch. She swallowed at the not-so-subtle warning, anticipation rising inside her belly and wetness rushing out of her core.

“Com’ere,” Sam called for her, remembering her rule: she wasn’t allowed movement without permission.

She was quick to get her hands on the floor, crawling to where Sam sat, kneeling by him and waiting for more instructions. She could feel two sets of eyes burning holes into her as she got closer to the couch but she refused to let it intimidate her.

Sam kept her kneeling before him, just basking in his newfound feeling of authority. He then took his jacket off, finding his Cuban cigars and a lighter before leaving it on the arm of the couch.

She looked so innocent even in such revealing lingerie and Sam wanted nothing more than to see that innocence ruined. He lit up his cigar, watching her closely, waiting for her to look up without permission; to break a rule. But she didn’t.

“Bring me that ashtray.” He pointed to the ashtray on the bedside table.

“Yes, Sam.” She instantly crawled back to carry out the order.

She stared up at the ashtray for a second, trying to figure a way to get it back to Sam. She knew she couldn’t get up on two feet, and she couldn’t carry the heavy ashtray in her mouth either. So instead she lifted one hand up to get hold of the glass object, and then carefully placed it on the center of her back. She put her arm back on the ground as slowly as possible before crawling back to Sam.

“Fuck me,” Sam breathed lowly but Bucky heard him.

“Come’ere, sexy,” he smirked, beckoning her with his finger.

She eventually arrived by the man’s knees, not moving a muscle; her body serving as Sam’s own table, offering him the ashtray and everything else under it.

“You’re such a good pet. I see why your sir never wants to leave the house.”

“Thank you, Sam,” she whispered shyly, giving a shy smile.

Sam removed the heavy glass from her back, setting it between himself and Bucky on the couch and tapped his cigar over it. She sat back on her knees in her default position.

“Take those off, baby.” Sam ordered, the tip of his shoe rubbing between her legs over her baby pink thong, “you don’t need ‘em.”

Keeping herself from whimpering, she did as she was told and kneeled back, feeling the air hit her wet cunt. She was more exposed now and a chill ran through her back when she felt Sam eyeing her wetness.

“Look at your pussy glistening when no one’s even touched you yet!” Sam mocked, bringing the tip of his shoe back under her core.

“So you’re not allowed to move without permission, huh?”

“Yes, Sam,” she mumbled.

“Not allowed to cum either?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“Let’s see how good you are at following your rules then.” Sam smirked devilishly, taking a long puff from his cigar as he brought his foot up, nudging her clit with the front of his shoe, “eyes on me.”

She bit her lip and looked at the man, trying not to squirm as the frictionless leather shoe started slowly moving back and forth between her thighs. Sam glided his foot all the way back and her clit got caught on the pointed tip again, making her breath hitch in her throat.

The patent leather was sliding so smoothly under her pussy, almost making squeaky sounds with how wet she was. A shiver slightly shook her thighs when her bud was nudged again but she kept her posture and let out a pleasured sigh. She was getting close and her face and neck were hot.

Bucky knew that look too well and he bit down his lip at the thought of Sam getting his girl so flustered so fast. He hated watching her get teased by another man and hated the raging boner it was giving him.

“Maybe you are as good as Bucky tells me after all.” She didn’t even notice the shoe was no longer touching her until Sam’s impressed voice filled her ears.

“Th-thank you, Sam.” She smiled proudly, finally able to breathe, though her clit still throbbed.

His shoe was now glossy with her arousal and she stared at it in slight embarrassment. She wondered what Bucky was thinking. Was he proud of her? Was he going to punish her for getting so wet for Sam?

“I also heard you were good with your mouth.” Sam cupped her cheek and traced his thumb along her lower lip. She nervously nodded in confirmation.

He took his touch away from her, “show me then, clean the mess you made on my shoes.”

Her mouth opened and closed at the instruction, but she quickly got back on her hands, bowing by Sam’s feet to lick a strip on top of the shoe she’d dirtied. She nearly made a face at the taste of herself tainted with the taste of leather.

“Don’t forget the other shoe too.”

“Yes, Sam.”

She was licking and slurping like his shoes tasted of her favourite ice cream, switching left and right between both shoes. She just wanted to be good. When Sam eventually let out a low “enough”, his pair of shoes was shinier than it ever was with her saliva coating it.

She lifted herself up and involuntarily looked at Bucky for approval. He gave her his ‘good girl’ smirk and she bit back another smile of her own, licking her lips and casting her eyes down.

“Good girl, so obedient,” Sam voiced Bucky’s thoughts for her before taking her by the neck to press his lips to hers, licking her taste off her tongue.

The kiss was gentle despite the tight hold he had on her neck. It was Sam’s way of emphasizing that she shouldn’t keep looking at Bucky. She could taste the cigar on his tongue and hoped hers didn’t taste of leather.

Sam’s dark eyes gazed at her hungrily when he pulled away, “now get that mouth on me, baby. Show me what it can really do,” he whispered against her lips, letting her neck go.

Not needing further urging, she sat up on her knees and her fingers did quick work of the man’s pants. He lifted himself up, helping her push his pants and boxer briefs down his knees. And once his hard dick sprung free, she sat back and stared with a slack jaw. That was one beautiful cock right there and it was about to be in her mouth. It was hers to suck for the night.

Bucky noticed and his jaw clenched as he made her a silent promise in his head to remind her who she really belonged to later.

“What? Too big for you?” Sam teased cockily, pushing her chin up and closing her mouth for her.

She licked her lips and shook her head. Yes, Sam was longer than Bucky, but she could definitely take him.

“What are you waiting for then? Get to work.” Sam opened his legs and sat back and she had to fight the urge to look at Bucky again.

Given permission to touch, she moved her warm hands up Sam’s strong thighs, trying to stop herself from imagining riding them to focus on the real prize in between.

One of her hands wrapped around his hard length and gave a small squeeze, hearing him sigh already. She started slowly moving her hand up and down his cock, more sighs leaving Sam’s lips as he relaxed more into the couch. Her mouth watered at the sight of precum dribbling out of his head and she gave no warning before she flattened her tongue and licked a strip along the underside of his cock and over the tip. She closed her lips around it and let her tongue flick over Sam’s slit, softly humming at his musky taste with the tinge of saltiness she would always remember as Sam’s. It was different from her sir’s but it was fucking tasty. Sam moaned at the sudden warmth surrounding his sensitive tip and bucked his hips.

She managed to take most of Sam in her mouth, her hand stroking what she couldn’t yet fit. His big hand was on the back of her head, below her ponytail as he gently thrust half of his length in and out of her mouth.

“Keep going. She can take it.” Bucky could tell Sam was holding back, but he knew what his girl could handle. He knew she loved to be used. And he also knew he needed to stroke himself over his pants to the sight of her deep throating Sam.

“She’s so good. Fuck!” Sam groaned, keeping eye contact with her all the while as his hips snapped deeper. She looked admirable with tears gathering in her wide eyes, and his cock filling her mouth.

Sam pushed himself deeper and she did her best to relax her throat but he had her gagging anyways. Definitely longer than Bucky.

She hollowed her cheeks and held on to Sam’s thighs, letting him use her throat and hearing the sexiest groans leave his. Her clit was tingling with need.

“Oh yes, baby. Choke on it,” Sam growled when he held her by her ponytail and gave a deep thrust, making her gag again.

Tears left her eyes as she focused on sucking and breathing through her nose. Her tongue teased the now very prominent vein on the underside of Sam’s cock and his hands tightened around her locks; it almost hurt. She loved it.

Sam pulled out for a minute to let her breathe before grabbing her head again, pushing her mouth down his cock until the hairs above it tickled her nose. He kept her there, his cock deep-seated in her throat and she held still. She didn’t dare do anything other than relax her throat for him.

Sam let up, giving her a minute to breathe before getting himself sheathed back down her warm throat again.

“Look at you chocking on another man’s cock like the little slut you are,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward, his hand finding the jewel peeking out of her tighter hole and lightly tapping it.

She gasped but it turned into a gurgle around Sam’s cock, making him moan and Bucky laugh.

“She’s drenched just from having your cock down her throat, Sam.” Bucky chuckled when his friend groaned, his index pushing down on the jewel and circling slowly, making the tip of the plug twirl inside her. He intentionally avoided checking how wet she was, depriving her clit of any relief his fingers could possibly provide.

Her moans around Sam were muffled and she could do nothing but kneel there and take it. She knew better than to squirm or try to move away from Bucky’s torment or Sam’s cock.

“Shit, make her do that again,” Sam panted, feeling himself get close to release.

Hearing them talk about her like she wasn’t there made her pussy pulse. Bucky pulled on the jewel, only getting an inch of it out before shoving it back inside her again, holding down hard and rolling the jewel. The bulbous head of the plug massaged circles inside her tightness.

She choked on another moan, the sensation of the glass dildo swirling on the inside of her ass was maddening. It was all new to her. It felt so good but not at all enough and she could feel her wetness ooze down her thighs as her cunt clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Sam grunted as she continued sucking and mewling around him. “You know what to do, puppy,” Bucky warned, although he knew she wouldn’t spit, pushing the toy further in her.

Sam’s hot cum shot down her throat and she moaned when she tasted more of him. Her swallowing around Sam’s tip made his hips stutter through his orgasm. He tugged her head back by her hair, slowly slipping his cock out of her mouth, but she still bent forward and cleaned him up with her tongue.

“Thank you, Sam.” She licked her lips and smiled timidly at the man.

He just chuckled, still having trouble breathing, “my pleasure, you perfect little thing.”

“Good girl.” Bucky possessively slapped her ass, making her whimper before sitting back and smirking down at her state.

Her face was hot, cheeks slightly moist with her tears and chin with her spit. Her lips were swollen and her hair was a mess, ponytail no longer in place.

“Very good,” Sam gulped, “goddamn, girl!”

She smiled wider at the praise as Sam wiped the tears off her cheeks.

“Fix your hair so we can take a look at that wet pussy, baby girl.” Bucky interrupted.

Her gaze alternated between his face and strained cock, silently asking what about you?

“I’ll have my fun with you, puppy. Don’t you worry your greedy, little holes.” Bucky grinned and she blushed, raising her arms to her head to redo her ponytail.

~

When Bucky went back down to get himself another drink, thinking it’d help him cool off, and it was just her alone with Sam, he told her to get up and stand by the bed. He loved watching her ass as she walked now that he knew she had a plug in. He walked over to her after pulling up his boxers, shoes and pants off and forgotten.

“What do you want, baby?” Sam asked, his fingers playing with her right bra strap.

“I wanna please you, Sam.” She knew her answer, her tone hushed as his hands started kneading her soft boobs.

“You don’t want me to return the favor?” Sam tilted his head to the side with a smirk, the pads of his thumbs swiping over her barely covered nipples, circling and teasing.

“O-only if you want to.” She was trying her best not to squirm under his touch or at the thought of his lips on her. Sam’s lust-filled eyes kept eye contact with her wide doe ones while his hands pushed her bra straps down her shoulders, slowly reaching back to unclasp the whole thing. He let it slip down her arms as his stare moved lower to take in her naked chest.

“You’re too perfect,” he whispered to himself, squeezing her boobs again as Bucky opened the door and walked back in, but she heard him and blushed.

Bucky’s jacket was gone and his cock was tenting in his pants. Cooling off didn’t work.

Sam pulled hard on her nipples when he saw her get distracted by Bucky’s entrance, making her gasp. Sam wanted to punish her. He wanted to see her break a rule but she was too good, so well-trained. She didn’t squeak the ‘please’ that was on the tip of her tongue at the feeling. She didn’t let herself beg for more. She didn’t stumble forward.

Bucky smirked, knowing she would always want him and only him no matter who was with her. He sat on his spot on the couch and sipped on his drink, dark eyes watching her naked body be played with by Sam.

“Get on the bed, baby.” Sam ordered with a nod, “on your back.” And she wasted no time before obeying.

“Open your legs for me,” Sam murmured after positioning a pillow under her head. He wanted her to watch him devour her.

He circled the bed and a shiver ran through her when the chill air hit her wet core again as she did like she was told and spread her legs.

Sam held her ankles, getting on his knees before her at the end of the bed and setting her shins on his broad shoulders.

“Turns out I’m in the mood to return the favor, so let me hear you, baby. Don’t hold back,” Sam said, giving her permission to make noises as he slowly pulled the plug out of her ass.

She let out a soft whine that had him craving more. Sam didn’t waste a minute, immediately diving in between her legs, licking up a stripe from her opening to her clit before slipping his tongue in her pussy.

Sam moaned at her sweet taste and she threw her head back, mewling as she felt his tongue poke inside and his lips vibrate on her.

Sam’s thick index traced her rim, filling the place her plug has been, feeling around before being joined by his middle. He sucked her clit between his lips as his fingers scissored inside of her ass. Her back bowed off the bed with a loud whine, the coldness of his rings strongly felt against her hot insides.

She didn’t have permission to touch Sam so she grabbed on the sheets under her instead, whimpering and trying to remain in place.

“Sam,” she moaned when he slowed his movements on her holes.

“You like what I’m doing to you? You like getting your ass fingered while my tongue flicks your little clit?”

“Yes, yes, please,” she whined desperately.

“Please what, baby? Be specific.” Sam smirked before licking up and down her taint.

“Please don’t stop,” she squealed, opening her legs as wide as they’d go on the man’s shoulders.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” Sam said as he slipped a third finger next to the two already inside her ass.

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, dreading that her attention was no longer on him, completely hoarded by Sam at the moment. She was squirming and mewling like a bitch in heat, and palming himself over his pants did nothing for him. He put his glass down and got on the bed by her head, noticing her eyes already looking glazed over. Her mouth unstoppably let out the softest pleads and whimpers.

Bucky unbuckled his pants and pushed them down just enough to get his dick out, desperate to feel her mouth around him.

“Open wide for your sir, puppy,” Bucky demanded and she promptly let her tongue out as he guided himself closer to her face.

Bucky was straddling her head, his back to the headboard, and when he sheathed his entire cock down her throat, he swore he could see it bulging on the outside of her neck. She gagged at the sudden intrusion, but wrapped her lips around him still. Bucky threw his head back, feeling her wet throat hug his cock. She was so good for him. She was always so good for him; he’d burn down the world for those teary, doe eyes.

“I wanted to hear her,” Sam complained when he lifted his head from her pussy to see her mouth stuffed full, fingers reaching deeper inside her ass. She mewled and gagged more around Bucky’s cock, making him groan before smiling smugly at Sam.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to fuck her throat.” Bucky smirked, thrusts going languid and deep.

“Fine, have it your way.” Sam put his tongue back inside of her, and started sliding it in and out of her heat, lapping at her like a starved man.

She would gasp Sam’s name every time Bucky paused and took his cock out for her to breathe, making him shove himself back in her mouth with little gentleness. He stopped using her mouth when he saw her stomach tensing though. He knew when she was about to cum; he knew all the signs.

“Can I please cum, Sam?” She gulped as Bucky caressed her face, wiping any residue tears.

Looking into her teary eyes, Bucky felt himself fall in love with her all over again. She always looked so beautiful when she was about to lose it.

Sam’s merciless stimulation of her two holes and Bucky’s cock stuffing the third drove her to a near edge quicker than ever. Sam was everywhere. His fingers fucking her ass and his tongue fucking her cunt all while his lips sucked her clit.

“Cum for me, puppy.” Sam purposefully used Bucky’s pet name for her to rile him up before sucking harder on her bundle of nerves, pushing his fingers deeper in her and curling them.

Bucky, naturally, slid his dick down her throat once more, forbidding Sam from hearing his name be shouted.

Her thighs shook, involuntarily closing around Sam’s head. With a scream muffled on Bucky’s cock, her ass fluttered around Sam’s fingers as she came, feeling him drink her release right up from the source.

“That’s a good puppy.” Sam smirked up at Bucky, who still stood with a hard cock on him, only now it was wet with her saliva.

“Thank you, Sam.” She panted, feeling her toes uncurl and her muscles start to relax.

“You’re welcome, baby.” He pecked her clit one last time before towering over her, caging her between his muscular arms. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and let her taste herself again. She tasted much better on his tongue than his shoes.

“Do you mind?” Sam broke the kiss, “I’m gonna fuck her now, go back to your couch.” He pressed his lips back to hers again, swallowing her shocked gasp.

She knew she’d probably be the one to face Bucky’s wrath later and the thought left her whimpering against Sam’s lips.

Bucky scoffed and got off the bed, giving her a menacing smirk. He’d let Sam take what he needed for the night because he knew whose cock she’d be begging for later anyway. A deal was a deal and he wanted to get this over with too.

Sam slid down her body again and gave her pussy another kiss, “gonna fuck this ass real good,” he whispered to her core.

“Let me see you live up to the name, puppy.” Sam pinched her side and got off the bed.

She heard her order loud and clear, getting on all fours for Sam and looking at herself in the mirror. Her ponytail was ruined once more from her squirming on the bed and the baby hairs on her forehead were stuck there with sweat. Her cheeks were burning and lips puffy. She whimpered and her limbs shook, her stare lowering as she blushed at how hungry she felt for another man.

“Eyes on the mirror.” She looked back up obediently and saw Sam taking his shirt off.

The man looked like museum art. His defined, muscular arms and buff, sculpted chest had her pussy drooling all over again. And good god that ass was just exquisite.

She watched Sam climb on the bed behind her form, pulling her ass to him and grinding himself on her. He was rock hard as if she hasn’t touched him all night. Then his tip nudged her tighter hole and she bit down.

“You got lube?” he asked, alternatively slapping his cock on both her holes.

“F-First drawer.”

“Gonna fuck you so good your little puppy holes would be gapin’ for days.” Another rush of wetness left her cunt at Sam’s promise; she ached to be filled. Sam lubed his cock up, poking her ass with the tip before carefully pushing it past her rim. She let out a shaky breath, head dropping as she felt her muscles stretch with little resistance to accommodate Sam’s length. The man was blessed.

“Eyes on the mirror I said,” Sam grunted, bottoming out inside her ass.

She instantly lifted her head up and her eyes met the reflection of his dark ones.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.” He smacked her thigh, rolling his hips to push himself deeper in her ass, “you’ve been good so far.”

“’M sorry, Sam.” She whimpered. “Such a good puppy.” Sam began moving in and out, taking his time with her, letting her adjust, his fingers digging into her hips, most likely bruising the soft flesh.

“Fuck, your ass is tight, baby.” Despite being previously stretched on the plug, she was still so tight and her walls gripped Sam so needily every time he buried his dick in her.

When he felt she’s gotten used to him and heard her breathing get louder, Sam stilled and locked eyes with her in the mirror while his middle and ring fingers pushed inside her wet pussy without warning. He smirked when he watched her breath hitch in surprise, mouth falling open further and eyes struggling not to shut. She’s never felt so full. “You’re so wet, baby. Who made you this wet?” Sam asked, his cock delivering a harsh stab to her ass, fingers moving in and out of her cunt.

It took everything not to turn her head to Bucky to seek his permission for what she knew she was supposed to say. “I asked you a question, puppy.” Sam took his cock out of her ass and before she could even register or protest, he shoved it in her pussy, filling her up in one thrust.

She screamed out, pain mixed with pleasure just the way she liked and there was no way stopping her mouth now, “you, Sam, you. You made me wet. It’s all for you.”

Her squealing was a bucket of ice on Bucky’s head. It’s all for Sam? Was it now?

“That’s a good puppy,” Sam grunted behind her, fucking into her in hard, fast thrusts. She could feel his tip kissing her cervix with every push of his hips. She was floating, unable to silence or manage her screams.

Sam switched again, sliding out of her wet cunt and plunging his cock back in her ass, “who’s making you scream?” he slapped her ass before his fingers found her swollen clit.

“Y-You, Sam! You!” She clutched the sheets, barely able to keep herself up.

“Damn right.” He gave one harsh thrust and her orgasm peeked at her from around the corner.

“Can I please cum? Please.” Her teary eyes pleaded with him in the mirror.

“Gonna cum for me again already?” Sam chuckled, his fingers relentless on her clit.

“Yes, Sam, p-please.” She whined, pussy clenching around nothing as he filled her ass.

“Cum.” One word and her orgasm was washing over her in waves.

Her arms involuntarily stretched above her head and clutching the bedding, her face lowered and hidden in the sheets as her ass pushed back against Sam. Her orgasm rippled through her and her thighs quivered again.

Sam bit his lip at the sight of her cumming with his cock stuffing her ass, fingers still playing with her clit to keep her trembling until she whined, chest heaving and tummy still clenching.

“So it’s all for Sam?” Bucky’s voice echoed throw the room and she could barely breathe now.

“Sir-” She forced her head up from the mattress, teary eyes already begging for forgiveness.

“Do I need to remind you who owns you, pup?” Bucky gently touched her cheek, “do I?” he slapped her before painfully gripping her jaw.

“No, sir, I-I could never forget.” She shook her head, instant tears filling her eyes. Shame filled her as she could still feel herself fluttering around Sam’s cock.

“Seems like you did, puppy.” Bucky let go of her jaw, his own clenching in held in ire.

“Get off her.” He nodded to Sam, who was still snug inside her.

“I thought you said I was in charge tonight? C’mon now, you don’t wanna confuse this poor puppy, my cock is already fucking her dumb enough.”

“Get off,” Bucky said between gritted teeth.

“Not before she gives me another one from her pussy.” Sam smirked coldly, making a growl vibrate through Bucky’s chest.

“Dangle your head off the bed, puppy,” Bucky ordered her instead and she looked back at Sam, silently pleading that he pulls out of her.

Sam pulled out with a chuckle as she whimpered. He moved off the bed and let her lay on her back, hanging her head off the mattress like Bucky wanted. As soon as Bucky's thighs were around her head, Sam straddled her waist, rubbing the head of his prick over her drenched pussy lips. She could feel the heat of both men’s gazes as they stared at each other challengingly.

“Open up.�� Bucky tapped his dick on her lips without sparing her a glance, his hard eyes on Sam.

She obeyed and Bucky was shoving himself down her throat in no time, Sam simultaneously pushing himself inside her slippery cunt. She gagged and moaned as both her throat and pussy contracted around the huge cocks filling her up.

“If you wanna act like a cock slut so bad, might as well treat you like one, puppy,” Bucky growled, thrusting in and out of her throat with a punishing force. The harder Bucky fucked her mouth, the harder Sam went on her poor pussy. She was soon reduced to a whimpering mess around Bucky, her cunt sensitive but still insatiate as it swallowed Sam and clung to his cock.

Bucky momentarily pulled out of her mouth, “who do you belong to?”

“You, sir. Only you.” She could only say as much before he was back to filling her throat.

“That’s right, puppy. I own you. I fucking own every inch of this body.” Bucky’s fingers danced over her collarbones before pinching her nipples.

She squealed, choking on his cock as she felt herself getting close again. “Oh, you like being stuffed from both ends?” Sam taunted when he felt how hard she was clamping down on him.

Bucky left her throat and she coughed a little, her neck slightly hurting from the position she was in. Sam took the chance that Bucky was letting her breathe and drove his cock inside her, his tip hitting her spot.

“Ah, Sam!” She cried out, making Bucky push back in her mouth with minute sympathy.

“At least make me cum first before screaming another man’s name, you dirty little puppy,” Bucky growled, slapping her breasts, making Sam smirk as he fucked her throbbing pussy.

His words, though uttered in a moment of lust, made her heart lurch. She didn’t want Bucky to think she’d put her pleasure before his or that she was enjoying Sam’s treatment of her lower half more than choking on his dick.

She started sucking harder, ignoring the tension building in her lower abdomen and turning all her moans to hums on Bucky’s cock. She did all the things she knew made her man’s eyes roll and his ringed fingers wrapped about her throat in confirmation. She stretched her arms past her head, her fingers trailing up Bucky’s inner thighs, making him shiver. Her fingers gently played with his balls and Bucky groaned, his hand squeezing her neck more. Soon enough, he was filling her throat with his cum, his mouth agape and his rings bruising her neck. She swallowed every drop, licking her lips and gasping when Bucky pulled out, “thank you, sir.” She panted, her lungs greedy for oxygen.

Bucky only nodded, kicking his pants off before sitting beside her head. Sam grabbed her by the waist so her head wasn’t hanging off the bed anymore before he resumed the movements of his hips.

“I’m sorry, sir.” She whispered, more tears leaving her eyes.

Bucky sighed, leaning forward to kiss her trembling lips and she knew she was forgiven. His hands roamed her chest, thumb rubbing over one nipple as he watched her cries grow loud for Sam again. Her throat was sore and her whines were weaker but she was much happier knowing her sir wasn’t mad at her anymore.

“Please,” she whispered when Sam’s fingers flicked her abused clit again.

“Please what, baby?”

“Please let me cum, Sam,” she begged, her hands clutching the sheets as her tummy tensed.

“Cum all over my cock, puppy,” Sam groaned and thrust his cock harder in her.

Her back bowed, clit chasing closer to Sam’s fingers before she saw white and it all became too much. Sam pulled his cock out of her and a rush of her release followed.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more perfect,” Sam breathed as he watched her quiver and squirt, fingers still rubbing her clit to help her ride it all out.

She quickly became sensitive and her waist jerked, her body settling on the bed, aftershocks buzzing through her core.

“My turn, baby,” Sam said before sliding back in her ass, her wetness helping him glide right in.

“You gonna let me cum in your ass, puppy?” he asked as he fucked her through the aftereffects of her orgasm, her pussy and ass still fluttering.

“Yes, Sam. Please cum inside me, need your cum,” she moaned, letting Sam fuck her into the mattress and loving it.

“Such a good puppy, letting me use you to please your sir- ahh,” Sam grunted, pushing her legs to her chest to have a better view of his cock disappearing in her ass.

“Please, Sam.” She felt herself get close again.

Sam could see her toes curling again before him and a smirk drew itself on his face, “cum for me, puppy. Cum with me.”

Her muscles tensed yet again and her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she felt Sam’s warm cum fill her up.

“Thank you, Sam,” she let out, her voice above a whisper.

“Thank you, baby.” Sam carefully pulled out of her and kissed her forehead sweetly, “that was amazing.”

“It really was.” She smiled tiredly and the man chuckled.

“Okay, get out,” Bucky said impatiently.

“Woah, I’m not walking out of here pantless. Chill.” Sam patted his shoulder as he walked to the couch to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“How are you feeling, pup?” Bucky cradled her face and she turned to kiss his hands.

“Really exhausted.” She smiled, “did I do good?” “You did perfect, baby girl. Like always.” He kissed her swollen lips softly.

“That deal is yours by the way,” Sam interrupted as he shrugged on his coat.

Bucky just nodded with a smile in appreciation as he watched Sam walk himself out. He got up to carry her to the shower and saw Sam’s cum leaking out of her ass hole.

“You just love getting your ass fucked, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.” She blushed.

“Well then let’s clean that shit out so I can properly fill your holes.” ~~~ Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse

@lavendercitizen

@tumblin-theworldaway

@pretty-pop-princess-hs

@lilymurphy03

@idontwannagomrstarkk

@glxwingrxse

@littlelioncub43

@mathletemadison

@canned-rootbear

@pandaxnienke

@loveisallyouneed1125

@floral-recs

@littlemoonkiller

@hallecarey1

@vespasianphantom

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

<>

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

<>

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

@ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @streamsofstardust @builtbybrokenbells @shutupdevvie @gretasmokerising @stardustvanfleet @stardustcatcher @wildbluesorbit @jaketlover @of-infinite-wonders

@tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @ofburningskies

@sunandthemoontwinflames @juliensbakery

@jakesguitarsolo @gretavanfreaky

@ageofbarbarians @gretavanfleetposts

@gvfpal @theweightofjake @alwaysonthemend

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl @jakes-eyebrows

@watchingovergvff @streamingcolors-gvf

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @writingcold

@starcatcher-jake @sarakay-gvf @groovyvanfleet

@i-choose-the-road @stillstreetjoshua @doodle417 @positivegvfthings @greta-van-fics @greta-van-chaos @gretavanbitches

[antiquarianfics]

Timeless

Reader wonders how their life might have looked different in 1944, but they know they still would have loved Bucky Barnes.

Author's Note: I have not written fanfiction in years, merely lurking and reading. However, "Timeless" (Taylor's Version) (From the Vault) just screams Bucky x Reader to me. I had to come back. So, enjoy. :) Genre: Fluff Pairing: Bucky Barnes x G!N Reader WC: 725 words

---

"What was it like?" You spoke hesitantly, choosing your words carefully as you break the comfortable silence where you and Bucky had been quietly looking at the antiques and knickknacks around the small store.

"What was what like?" Bucky looks down at you, eyebrow raised.

You nudge him with your shoulder.

"Hush, I was getting there," you laugh. "What was it like in the '40s?"

Bucky had told you plenty about his life both pre and post Winter Soldier; however, you still felt like asking again.

Bucky smiled softly, looking up and around the room. "It was hectic. We had just entered the war and everyone was panicking. I remember Ma and Becca were practically begging me not to enlist." He pauses, gathering his thoughts. His mother and sister were hard for him to talk about sometimes, so you grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"It was funny, though. After enlisting, I felt like I was on top of the world. I was proud to join, y'know? Think Ma and Becca were proud of me, too. Just scared."

"Understandable," you agree. You bite your lip, thinking. "Did enlisting get you a girlfriend?"

Bucky blows out air in a stifled laugh. "No, but it didn't hurt my game," he teases.

You roll your eyes before settling on an old photograph in a catch-all sort of box labeled "Photographs: 25¢ each." The photo was lying neatly on top of the others, practically calling you toward it like a siren to a sailor. You begin moving towards it, letting Bucky's hand fall out of your grasp as you go to pick it up.

"Why do you ask?" Bucky questions, coming up to stand behind you at the photo box. He gently slides his arms around your body, hugging you from behind, gazing at the photograph over your shoulder.

You hum. "I don't know; I guess all this old stuff just got me thinking."

Bucky stays silent, letting you pull your thoughts together.

"You think this would've been us?" You ask.

The photo you were drawn to was of a '30s couple smiling and laughing on the porch of their first home. You didn't know who these people were, obviously, but you recognized them as you and Bucky. It was a strange feeling, and you hoped Bucky would understand it, too.

"Oh, for sure. I woulda been crazy about you back then," Bucky smiles, imagining you in his time. "You in victory rolls, the long skirts, out dancing? God, you know I would've been talking you up."

You giggle, feeling flustered. "I would've married you, bought you a house, given you kids, whatever you wanted," he continues. "I would've had the prettiest person in all of space and time sending me off to war."

You frown slightly. "You know, for people who fight bad guys and aliens on a regular basis, I really don't like the idea of sending you off to war. It's too dangerous. You might fall off a train, or something."

Bucky laughs, poking you in the side. "Come on, now."

"No, seriously. I hate it. I pray every night that you'll come back unscathed when you go on missions with Sam, and... I just can't imagine having to rely on letters or not being able to just go with you," you take a breath, grounding yourself. You realize you're working yourself up.

"I would have, though."

"Would've what?"

"Relied on the letters. I would've read them every night, and write you just as much. Telling you not to be stupid and not die. I would've sat by the mailbox everyday just to get your letters and know you're alright."

Bucky grins. "I would've come back. For you."

"If you could've just gone back, don't you think you would have?"

"Nah," Bucky dismisses the thought. "If I hadn't fallen off that train, I'd be ancient or dead right now and I wouldn't have gotten to love you."

You set the photo back down in the box before turning around in Bucky's arms. You slide your arms around his neck and he lets his fall to your waist.

"I'm serious," he says when the two of you make eye contact. "What we got, Doll? It's timeless. I was gonna end up in your arms one way or another."

You lean up and kiss him.

[deanswhiskey]

𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; you and castiel build a gingerbread house together

wc; 825

warnings; none :)

authors note; short little fiction for my first cas fic 🫶

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

“i do not understand the purpose of this.” castiel said holding two walls of the gingerbread house you two were building.

your concentration broke from castiels monotonous voice. “cas, baby, there’s no purpose it’s just for fun.” you resumed icing the corners together.

earlier today, you were out running errands for the bunker, which included grocery shopping.

you stopped by the small little christmas section just to browse. you had already decorated with what little you had. what caught your eye was the display of various gingerbread houses. you hadn’t done one of those since you were little. grabbing the standard house, you thought it’d be a fun idea to build with cas.

when you arrived home, you called cas from the kitchen.

no matter how long you know cas, him flying in anywhere always gave a scare of some kind. “what is it, dear?” he said.

“look what i bought us!” you sang out, holding up the gingerbread house box. castiel only furrowed his bored and tilted his head, not understanding what that is. “it’s a gingerbread house! you get all these pieces of a house made out of gingerbread and you stick them together with icing and decorate with candy!”

cas took the box from your hands and inspected it. he opened the box and dumped out its contents onto the kitchen table and picked up the small tube of icing it came with. “don’t worry, i bought more icing; these things never come with enough.”

there were also gingerbread dough packaged up near the house kits. you hoped to make a little tiny version of you and cas; maybe sam and dream too if you had enough.

“c’mon, let’s get working!” you said, which led you to right now.

“why use stale cookies to make a house? why not cardboard? or wood?”

you sighed, removing yourself from the house. you set the icing down and took a heavy glass and propped it on the inside of the walls so it could rest and cas could take his hands off.

you gently took his hands in your, “honey, it’s just a silly little tradition around the holidays,” you giggled, “it’s supposed to be fun. it stays up just like any decoration.” cas starts to understand, he smiles. “okay?” cas just nods. you reach up and give him a kiss on the cheek. he loved how gentle your kisses were, wether it be on the cheek or on the lips.

the two of you finished the house. it was beautifully messy. castiel took the liberty of decorating the side of the house.

he didn’t necessarily understand how to use a piping bag at first but he got the hang of it. he also loved the gumdrops, even stealing a few.

you giggled when he had accidentally wiped some icing on his cheek. you reached up and licked the little bit off; castiels cheeks flushed pink, not expecting that, at all.

“i have an idea!”

“what is it, pretty,” cas said

you blushed at the nickname before continuing. “we should make each other out of gingerbread people, i’ll make you and you make me!”

castiel nodded and smiled at the idea. you grabbed the dough and you and castiel began the roll out separate pieces. you took the cookie cutter and you each cut out like gingerbread people. there was enough left so you decided to make wing for castiel, sam, and dean.

the cookies went into the oven for a bit before you took them out. they had to cool off so you and castiel sat down and finish what little candy was left. you introduced the idea of tossing something his way and catching it in his mouth; castiel had gotten really good at it.

the cookies cool and you began frosting. you separated the icing so you can use it different colors. the both of you worked very hard on creating little gingerbread versions of you; and sam and dean.

when you finished, you presented them to each other. castiel smiled at his frosted wings. castiel had made little gingerbread you wear your favorite shirt.

after presenting them, you had put it on display, making your gingerbread people hold hands. sam and dean were set up too, on the opposite side of you two.

you took a step back and admired your messy little gingerbread house, it was perfect. castiel took his hand in your and smiled at the house too. you glanced up at him, “shall we go set it up?” castiel nodded, kissing the top of you head before grabbed the tray it was on.

the two of you headed to the living room and the two of you decided to set it on top of mantle.

“can we do this every year? can it be our tradition?” castiel looked down at you.

“of course, cas.” you smiled.

the two of you stood and admired your little family of gingerbread.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be | lll

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're excited that your relationship with Eli is flourishing. A big fight leaves you and him making a decision that could benefit your lives.

Warnings: bullying, slut-shaming, kissing, violence (school fight/karate)

Word Count: 1k

A/N: A short and sweet chapter but I love it! Make sure that if you want to see more of this story to comment and reblog! Comments let me know what you like about the story and reblogs help others see the story! Thanks!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“I’m sorry to hear about what happened at the dance,” you frowned, sitting on your bed.

You and Aisha finally made time for your hang-out. It was agreed between the two of you to go to your place. 

It had been a few days since you and Eli kissed. You both hadn’t talked about it, but it was unspoken between the two of you that it was where you wanted to be. 

While your mind had been distracted by that plus the emotional turmoil that was caused by Yasmine and Moon–it was nice to just be with a friend.

“Don’t worry about it, it sucks, for sure,” she sighed. “But I joined Cobra Kai,” she smiled. “Sensei’s teaching me how to actually kick ass”. 

“Woah, really? I’m happy for you,” you nodded. 

You were happy she joined the dojo. At least one of you is building confidence to stand up against Yasmine. 

“If you want to build strength, join Cobra Kai. We can use more students too,” she suggested. 

“I don’t know, it sounds intense,” you winced. 

You don’t think you’d do well in an aggressive environment such as that. Based on how Miguel talks about his sensei and now Aisha? You don’t think you’d last a day.

“It’s not that bad, honestly,” she reassured. “Before it felt like I didn’t have anything to use to get back at Yasmine, but now I have this confidence, this strength. Something I have that she doesn’t,” she licked her lips. “But you really wanna know the truth?”

You leaned forward, telling her you did.

“I’m doing this to better myself,” she smiled. “I’m the best version of myself I can be and it’s so freeing,” she sighed out. 

“Wow, maybe I’ll put some more thought into it,” you hummed. 

That freedom she was talking about was calling your name and for once in the few weeks you’ve heard of Cobra Kai, you really considered it. 

~

You were reviewing your Calc homework before the big test today at your locker when a familiar voice called your name. You looked to your right, happy to see Eli.

“Hi, oop,” you were taken aback when he greeted you with a kiss. “Hi,” you felt your cheeks warm, your hand clutching your locker door. 

“Was that okay?” his eyes grew worried that he went overboard.

“Yeah,” you sheepishly said, reassuring him. “I’m just still getting used to it,” you giggled. 

And it was true.

Going from best friends to kissing each other was such a huge jump. It wasn't the norm even as excited as you were that you got to kiss the boy you’ve been in love with since you could remember. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” you chewed on your lip, closing your notebook.

“I hope so,” he smiled, hiking his shoulders up. 

“Cool,” you nodded, checking your phone for the date to remember it.

“I’ll walk you to class?” he offered and you nodded. 

Your hands became intertwined and for once you felt more than complete. You couldn’t wipe your smile off when you went into class, your mind not even thinking about limits or functions because you had a boyfriend!

~

You were walking alongside Eli and the boys to your lunch table, happy to see that Aisha was there. 

The whole cafeteria grew silent though when Sam threw a tray onto the floor. Oohs were whispered around. The four of you slowed down as you stayed back and observed.

“You see that billboard with the giant dick? I guess, Sam takes after her dad,” Kyler had a shit-eating grin on his face.

The cafeteria got riled up at the awful comeback.

You saw the way Sam’s eyes coated with anger, her jaw clenched, gaze narrowed. You felt for her, truly. 

She seemed like such a nice person and a good friend, based on what Aisha told you, but you didn’t understand why she was friends with such assholes.

You didn’t know what was going to happen between them until Miguel spoke up. 

“Oh no,” you said under your breath. 

He slammed his tray on the table next to Aisha before approaching Kyler. “Why don’t you shut the hell up and stop being an asshole?” 

“Want another beat down, Rhea?” Kyler shoved him. 

Miguel grunted as he fell back but caught himself on the chair behind him.

“I’m ready for your lame-ass karate this time,” Kyler shoved him again.

“It’s not lame-ass karate,” Miguel gritted just as Kyler went in for a punch but he blocked it, gripping his arm that caused pain to radiate all over his face. “It’s Cobra Kai,” he said before knocking him straight in the teeth.

“Woah,” Eli said. 

Blood spilled from Kyler’s nose, anger coursing through him before he body-slammed Miguel into the table, dragging him by the neck to another. People moved and jumped out of the way as Kyler got him in a headlock, but Miguel elbowed him in the gut, grabbing him by the arm and pulling it behind him, using that leverage to punch him in the cheek and then kicking him.

“No mercy!” Aisha shouted.

So much passion, you thought.

Another guy came behind Miguel but he anticipated it, sweeping him right off his feet. Then two others came but he got them too, kicking one in the stomach and another in the face.

Using his chance to run, Miguel rolled over a table, grabbing onto a tray. He kicked a chair towards an attacker before using the tray to hit Kyler and the blond one. 

He kicked and hit, knocking them down until Kyler charged at him. He jumped onto a table, sweeping his leg behind him, and kicking him before he knocked the corner of the tray right into his face. 

He actually did it. 

He took down at least six guys by himself.

Miguel stared in amazement, at the crowd surrounding him.

You felt so proud of him, being very impressed but his victory was cut short when Counsloer Blatt ordered him to come down.

~

Eli’s mouth pressed against yours, your hands placed on either side of his face while his hands were on your arms.

It was awkward navigating kissing but it was also the best thing you’ve ever experienced. 

“We should probably get back to homework,” you said, face hot and lips puffy as you pulled away. “Before your mom catches us,” you licked your lips, growing flustered at the thought of being caught.

This was the only way you’d agree to have a make-out session with Eli—at his house, not yours. If your dad found you guys locking lips, that would be the end of Eli. Frankly, you didn’t want that to happen. 

Still, you wanted to keep your fresh relationship under the ropes from your parents.

“Sure,” he nodded sheepishly, grabbing his pen.

You were doing homework at his house today, Demetri declining because he didn’t “want to get in the way of young love”. The thought made you laugh, but there was no denying how grateful you were about it.

“What did you get for problem four?” you asked, your arm and thigh pressed against his.

This time around, you didn’t care that your body was as close to his as possible. You both welcomed it and the butterflies in your tummy fluttered in delight.

“C,” he answered. 

“Damn,” you sucked in a breath, looking over his work to see where you went wrong. “You think it’s too late to drop out of Chemistry?” you wondered.

“I think you’ll be fine,” he reassured. “So what did you think about Miguel today?” he fidgeted with the pen.

“The fight?” you furrowed your brows, copying his work onto your paper. “I thought it was totally badass,” you grinned. “I guess he and Aisha were right, their sensei knows what he’s doing,” you snorted. 

“I think I’m gonna join,” he admitted, chewing on his lip and he averted your gaze.

You paused, a smile appearing on your face. “That’s great, Eli!” you reached over to kiss his cheek.

“I even talked Demetri into joining,” he added. “So I was thinking maybe you should join too,” he shrugged, searching your eyes for any sign of disagreement. 

“Really? You think I could learn to kick ass like that?” you turned to face him.

“I think you could become the best in the entire Valley,” he blushed, mirroring your movements. “So what do you say?” he smiled.

“Let’s do it,” you grinned.

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings

Chapter 5

A/N- this is NOT a finale guys! After much deliberation I decided I have too much to say for only 3 chapters, so we are on this train until I’m ready to give it up! 😂

Summary- it’s the morning after Mav and Penny’s wedding, and there are revelations to unpack as new drama unfolds.

Song inspo- Sunday kind of love- Etta James, You send me- Sam Cooke, Ironic- Alanis Morissette, Karma- Taylor Swift

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

Warnings- language, drinking, smut (wrap it up kids) minors dni.

Bradley wakes up to one of the worst hangovers he’s had in his adult life. He made it home and proceeded to drain most of his liquor cabinet after the wedding, it had been a bad day all around and seeing you and Jake wrapped up in each others arms after years of worrying was the icing on the cake. He knew logically he had no room to be pissed off, you knew everything now and there would be no salvaging your love life. He had hoped to explain it himself, maybe find a way to convince you it was nothing but in reality he knew that wasn’t the case. He’d continued a relationship with Mirage after you left, whether or not it was just sex didn’t really matter, he’d slept with someone else. His therapist had told him weeks ago that he believed Bradley was in love with the idea of love and having a family, less in the people he was in relationships with and while it had hurt to hear he knew somewhere in him it was true.

He’d loved the attention and adoration from his partners, and some part of him had loved Stormy once; but the two of you disagreed fundamentally on so many things. You were career driven, he wanted you to retire in the next 5 years so you could start a family, he wanted to stay in California and you had always dreamed of settling down south near your grandmother’s old home. When he’d seen you becoming more successful than him it had set a fire in him and he used it to burn your relationship to the ground. He didn’t deserve you, and he certainly didn’t get to dictate who you chose to be with after him.

As he stumbled through the house to let out his dog he appraised the damage. His clothes were scattered everywhere, liquor cabinet raided and somehow he’d left the fridge open. He was a mess right now, if his mother could see him she’d be so disappointed. He finally finds his phone in the couch cushions, messages and missed calls from Nat and Rueben clogging his notifications. He couldn’t dig into all of that right now, so he just called Nat to let him know he was ok, yanking the phone from his ear as she screamed into the phone.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!”

“Jesus dude I was asleep what the hell is wrong? You have a key you could’ve just come over if it’s that serious, who died?”

“Bradley. You haven’t been on instagram today have you?”

“No, but I already know about Jake and Stormy so if they went instagram official I’d rather not-“

“Wait what?! Never mind that’s not what this is about. You need to go to Mirage’s profile, right now.”

Bradley scrolls through the app and clicks on her profile, expecting to see she decided to stop waiting on him and find a boyfriend now or something stupid like that, only to be met with a carousel of photos. Pictures of the two of them, and at the end a picture of a pregnancy test, two pink lines confirming something he never dreamed of. Not only had she hard launched them, but she also told the world he was going to be a father…without confirming with him first. He was fucked.

——————————————————————

Meanwhile on the other side of North Island Jake is waking up to his version of heaven. His bed may be empty but he can hear the soft sound of you singing, and the smell of coffee and pancakes has him wandering down the hall. Your hair is in a messy knot, you’ve got one of his Texas longhorn t shirts on and you and Patsy Cline are crooning “Walking after midnight.” Flitting back and forth between chopping fruit and flipping pancakes, you sway to the song (your grandmother’s favorite) and he’s sure this is the best morning of his life. He sneaks up behind you to spin you and you shriek and giggle, swatting him with the spatula as he kisses your cheeks and forehead.

“Morning Tex, how’d you sleep?” You say with a big grin, running your free hand over his tanned torso and you catch him close his eyes and shiver into your touch.

“Mm, I’ll be honest darlin’ might have been the best night of sleep in my whole life, ‘cept I woke up alone and almost thought you were a dream.” He plucks the spatula from your hand and hip bumps you away from the stove, taking over your spot cooking and you make your way to the coffee pot to pour him a mug.

“I uh- I cancelled my flight for this afternoon” you’re trying to be nonchalant about it but you can tell by the way his head snaps up he is holding on to your every word.

“And I may have asked Uncle Beau for a favor and extended my leave for the rest of the week… I hope that’s ok, I’m not ready to leave you yet.”

You look a little nervous as he turns the stove off and looks at you, but he takes two big strides and yanks you into his arms, pulling at your (his) shirt and kissing you hard and you know you had nothing to worry about.

You both laugh into each other’s mouths, he’s hoisted you into his arms and delicately places you on the kitchen table, rucking your shirt above your breasts as he nips and sucks on the exposed skin.

“Jake- breakfast” you breathe out and he grins up at you between your thighs

“I want you for breakfast first baby, then we can have pancakes. Be a good girl and take it ok?”

He brings you to your release three times before he lets you up, grabbing the plates from the counter and sitting you in his lap. Between bites you reach into his shorts and pull him free lining yourself up with him and he hisses into your mouth.

“What’re you up to sweet thing?”

“Shhh, wanna be close baby, need you”

You take turns feeding each other while you slowly rock yourself on Jake, and it definitely is the best morning either of you have ever had.

——————————————————————

Neither of you had even touched your phones since you left the wedding the night before, it was nearing 5 pm and you had spent the day watching movies and letting Jake fuck you in every room of his house, finally deciding the two of you needed to eat you dragged yourself to his room to get your phone off the charger to order takeout. When you turned your phone on you were bombarded with notifications, nearly deciding to just turn it back off once you noticed you had a notification from Bradley. You ordered dinner and continued to ignore the overwhelming amount of messages, annoyance etched on your face when you came back to the living room, and Jake reached for your phone already knowing you wouldn’t want to pop the perfect bubble of the day.

“You don’t have to look at any of this shit today if you don’t want to y/n, we can worry about it tomorrow.”

You sighed and ran your hand over your face, it wasn’t that easy even if he tried to make it that way. “Will you just look for me? Tell Nat I’m not interested in hashing out the drama tonight and we can talk at lunch.”

He nodded and scrolled through, but as you watched his face you immediately knew something was wrong.

“Ok maybe you do need to tell me, what happened? Is someone hurt?”

He shook his head but looked almost nauseous, so you yanked the phone from his hands, he didn’t even bother to try and keep it from you.

On the screen was almost 30 messages from Phoenix, begging you not to check instagram. It had been hours since her last message but she seemed insistent that you call her first. She picked up on the first ring, screeching into the phone before you could say anything.

“Jesus! Where the fuck have you been Stormy? I had half a mind to come over to Hangman’s to beat the door down.”

“We decided to shut our phones off, sorry Tash. What is wrong? Please tell me everyone is ok.”

“Everyone’s safe, it’s not that kind of emergency. But it’s not good y/n. Bradley apparently saw the two of you last night, and then…”

“Then what? What Nat?”

“Y/n…Mirage is pregnant.”

——————————————————————

You knew it was the wrong way to respond, Jake had dropped his fork right out of his mouth at Nat’s declaration; that definitely seemed like more of a normal response. You on the other hand looked unhinged as doubled over in laughter, gasping for air as tears poured from your eyes.

“Seresin, what’s happening? Is- is she laughing?”

Jake looks at you like you have 3 heads but still manages to take your phone from your shaking form,

“Yeah Phoenix it looks like it”

“Do we need to be worried?”

“Too soon to tell, let me figure this shit out and we’ll call you later.”

He hangs up and takes your hand, you’re coming down from it now as you swipe the tears from your face, still trying to stifle giggles.

“Oh God,” you gasp out “I’m so sorry, but you seriously can’t make this shit up can you?” You erupt into another round of giggles and now Jake can’t help but join in, this really is a shitshow.

Finally you settle and he looks at you with concern, but you wave him off and move your take out boxes to the coffee table as you scoot into his lap. Running your hands through his hair you lean in to kiss him and as much as he doesn’t want to he pulls back to get you to look at him.

“I’ll let you bury yourself in me if you need baby but you still gotta talk to me ok? What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You shake your head at him and peck his lips, you knew he wouldn’t let you get away with pushing it aside.

“Is it strange that I almost feel bad for him? He’s burned his whole world down, knowing what I know now I would never want to be around him let alone with him again, and while I have thrived in his absence he just keeps ruining his life. I don’t miss him, but I pity him. Does that make sense?”

It’s definitely not the response he expected, he thought you’d be hurt and that it would rehash all the emotional damage you’d dealt with, he can’t help but be impressed.

“You’re taking this a whole lot better than I thought sugar, I gotta be honest.”

You pull him close as you straddle his hips, running your nose along his cheekbone and press kisses to his face.

“Like I told you, I don’t miss him. I don’t want him. I want you. This isn’t avoidance Jake, I moved on and I want to spend the rest of my life with you if that’s what you want too. So can we stop worrying about Rooster and his emotional bullshit and just go back to being us?”

He lets you take the lead, settling into the couch with you and switching the long forgotten movie back on, whatever his wingman’s problems are don’t include him after all. He’s got bigger things on his mind, like getting you back to San Diego or requesting a transfer to Pensacola. Maybe getting the two of you a bigger house with a yard, a dog or two and a backyard big enough to fill with your own kids. As he falls asleep trapped under your warm embrace visions of what could be dance behind his eyes, and he makes a mental note to ask his mother for Grandma Seresin’s engagement ring.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Thanks so much to @sailor-aviator, @mamachasesmayhem, and @bobgasm for talking me through this chapter!!

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @pinkdaisies9285 @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @mygyn @angelbabyyy99 @86laura11 @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @jostan456 @kmc1989 @dempy @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @purelyfiction @nouis-bum

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[marie-swriting]

I Cannot Afford To Lose You - Bucky Barnes

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : You get shot on a mission, resulting in you almost dying in Bucky's arms.

Warnings : gunshot, gunshot wound, reader almost dies, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, John Walker, Bucky being protective, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3k

French version

A/N : this one shot was based on this request made by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains hope you'll like it ! Personally, I enjoyed writing it, your idea was really inspirational :)

You enter a dark room, your senses on alert, lying in wait for a potential threat with your batons in hands. You look at every side of the place when you see a shadow coming towards you. Just in time, you block the punch of the Flag Smasher with your weapon. Then, follow a fight between you and the masked woman. Despite the Supersoldier serum running in her veins, you can get through it pretty easily. Thanks to your training with Bucky, you can easily adapt to a fight with someone who has super strength. You succeed to hit her but not enough to knock her out. Your hits only made her lose her mask, allowing you to see she’s a woman in her early twenties. You keep fighting when a gunshot can be heard. Lowering your gaze on your stomach, you see blood. The Flag Smasher pushes you before running away while you fall on the ground. You bring your hand to your wound and try to put pressure on it, despite the pain.

“Y/N ? What was that ? You’re okay ?” Bucky’s worried voice asks in your earpiece. “Y/N !” he screams as he doesn’t hear an answer from you.

“I lost the target.” you articulate after a few seconds.

“I’ll handle it.” Sam informs, “Everything is good for you ?”

You don’t have the strength to answer him, too focused to not bleed out. You sweep the area with your eyes, hoping to find the shooter yet you see no one. You keep looking around, searching for something to help you, in vain. Your breath quickens when Buckys appears. A worried expression takes its place on his face when he runs to you. Before reaching you, you can hear him ordering Sam to call paramedics. Bucky kneels next to you, takes your hands away and puts pressure on your wound. Gradually, your eyelids are getting heavier so Bucky shakes you with one hand to keep you awake.

“I forbid you to fall sleep, you hear me ? Stay focused, Sam called for help, they’ll get there soon.”

“I’m tired.” you stutter, looking at him with difficulty.

“I know but you can’t close your eyes, okay ? You’re gonna make it out alive so stay awake.”

“Bucky, I-” you start putting your hand on his.

“No, shh,” he cuts you off softly, “focus on not closing your eyes. You’ll tell me what you want to say later. Hold on, Y/N, you’re gonna make it out alive.” he repeats whilst his hands are getting dirty with your blood.

You try to listen to Buky and do everything to not fall asleep however the more the time passes, the harder it gets. You slowly start to give up when the paramedics come to you. Distantly, you can hear Bucky screaming your name while you sink into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you feel attacked by the lightness of the place. You close them for a second before opening them again slowlier. When you’re finally used to the brightness, you analyse your environment and realise you’re in a hospital room. Your eyes fall on Bucky who is sitting next to you, his hands holding your right one and he’s lost in his thoughts. You lightly move your fingers to catch his attention. Feeling you moving, Bucky’s head instantly turns on his left. When he sees you awake, he sighs in relief before getting closer to you. With his left hand, he strokes your cheeks. 

“Hey, how are you feeling ?” he whispers.

“Like I got shot.” you say, trying to smile.

“At least, we know for sure we haven’t lost her.” Sam intervenes, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Are you hurting somewhere ? Do you want me to call a nurse ? I should call a nurse to let her know you’re awake.”

“No need. The IV is still working.”

“It’d be safer and maybe they need to check something as you’re awake now.” your boyfriend insists while pressing the button to call the nurse.

“Worse than a mother hen.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” you order as you feel a pain in your belly even though you only laugh a little at their bickering.

“Sorry.” Sam apologises.

Bucky keeps looking at you as if he was afraid that if he looks away you’ll disappear. You look at him lovingly, hoping it’ll reassure him, confirming to him he hasn’t lost you. Meanwhile, Sam feels a little bit left out yet he can’t help but look at the scene tenderly, knowing very well what you mean to Bucky. 

Indeed, since you met the former Winter Soldier, you’ve always made sure he never misses anything. You helped, and still help him sometimes, to get used to the modern world and you’re one of the few shoulders he can cry on without feeling ashamed. Your feelings for each other got stronger gently and your relationship evolved at the same pace. Your bond is strong and indescribable. All that you both know is you can’t live without the other. Bucky in particular cannot lose you, not only because he loves you but also because you’re one of the rare constants in his life since he got his memory back. 

Someone knocks on your door, breaking your bubble by doing so. You get ready to greet a nurse when you find John Walker in his Captain America outfit and his helmet in hands. You frown, not expecting to see him here.

“John, what a pleasure !” Bucky starts, sarcastically, “Are you here to give the Shield back ?”

“Buck !” you reprimand him and he fakes an innocent expression.

“I just wanted to know how you were feeling.” John asks you, avoiding your gaze for a second.

“I’ll get by, considering I almost died.”

“About that, I wanted to apologise.”

“What are you talking about ?” you question, frowning. 

Although if you didn’t see who shot you, you guessed it was a Flag Smasher as your wound allowed your enemy to escape, until Sam caught her, so you don’t understand John's apology.

“I… I was targeting the Flag Smasher,” explain John, playing with his helmet, “but while you were fighting, you moved and I shot you by accident.”

Upon hearing the end of John’s sentence, Bucky sees red and lets go of your hand before trying to get to John. Sam barely holds him, preventing Bucky from breaking his therapist’s rule number two. John moves back to the door in case Sam wouldn’t be able to hold Bucky back anymore. Your boyfriend forces himself to not use all of his strength against Sam, he knows he’d be able to get away from his grip if he really wants to but he also knows it’s not the thing to do. Bucky finally got his pardon, he can’t ruin everything now. However, it doesn’t mean John didn’t almost ruin the most precious relationship to his eyes. As if it’s enough that Bucky can’t for the life of him like the new Captain America, now he has only one urge : hurt him real bad or go back in time and force Sam to keep this damn Shield like this, you wouldn’t be in this hospital bed.

“It was an accident, I promise.” John states, “I really am sorry.”

“They don’t teach you how to shoot in the army anymore or what ?” Bucky spits as Sam tightens his grip on him. “Come on, if you don’t have a clear view, you don’t shoot, that’s common sense ! Because of you, Y/N almost fucking lost her life and we almost didn’t catch the Flag Smasher. You can’t be that stupid !”

“Bucky, he didn’t do it on purpose.” you intervene, hoping it’ll ease the tension.

Even if you hate John as much as Bucky does, you can’t have your boyfriend rearranging his face. You can’t have Bucky being the US government’s number one enemy again.

“I don’t care about that,” Bucky retorts to you, “You almost died in my arms because of his incompetence.” he keeps saying as he points at John with his chin, “What a good Captain America ! Just for that reason alone, you should give the Shield back.”

“It was a mistake. Besides, I just got promoted as Captain America, I still have a lot to learn.” John tries to defend himself, irritating Bucky a bit more.

“Shooting innocents shouldn’t be a part of it ! You’re supposed to have learned this at the beginning of your training in the army. It was more than a mistake. You better leave now before I make you a permanent resident in this hospital.”

“You should go, John.” you confirm, knowing well Bucky’s anger won’t cool off now, “Thanks for telling me the truth.”

“It was the least I could do. Again, sorry, Y/N.”

When John finally leaves the room, Sam slowly lets Bucky go, though he stays at the ready to hold Bucky back just in case. Your boyfriend takes a deep breath before setting his attention on you. He might seem calmer, you can see in his eyes his anger is still there. He sits back down whilst Sam gets settled at the end of your bed.

“All of this could have been avoided if you hadn’t given up the Shield.” Bucky exclaims, making both yours and Sam’s eyes roll. 

“Still with that.”

“How can you not be mad at him when he almost killed you ?” he questions, confused.

“Look, you know my opinion on him as Captain America and today proves us a bit more, it shouldn’t be him, but the fact is, he didn’t hurt me intentionally.”

“Intentionally or not, I could have lost you.”

“And it’s not the case. I’m still here.” you assure him, stroking his cheek.

Bucky is about to add something when the nurse he called earlier enters your accommodation. She checks your vital signs, asks you some questions and informs you your doctor will come check on you later before letting you rest. Thanks to her appearance, Bucky finally gives up the ‘John’ subject, however he’s still fulminating. To lighten up the mood, Sam changes the subject by talking about his house in Louisiana. He speaks about the weather, his family boat and the several activities his hometown has to offer until your doctor cuts him off. She explains to you they saved you just in time and you’ll have a scar on your belly. Finally, she informs you you’ll have to spare yourself for a while, strictly forbidding you to get back on the field until further notice. You can’t help but let go of a frustrated sigh at her last information. The last thing you needed was to be confined in your bed when you’re someone who is active. When she leaves, Bucky tries to make you see the bright side as he knows you’re annoyed by your current situation. However, no matter what he says, it doesn’t seem to make your pout go away. Sam finally proposes to do your recovery at his house in Louisiana, away from the city. You weigh the pros and cons before accepting, not without making Bucky roll his eyes. 

When you’re finally cleared to leave the hospital, you discover the State where Sam lives. The latter gave you and Bucky the guest room. You thanked him countless times for his kindness whilst Bucky only gave him a small smile to show his gratitude.

During your recovery, the two men pamper you. Sam makes you taste the traditional dish from Louisiana as well as his family recipes. You have to admit Sam is a good cook, something you wouldn’t have thought at first. Sam also brought you several things to keep you busy from your bed like board games or some manual activities. You now consider yourself a pro in the making of bracelets with plastic pearls. You’ve made some for Sam, his sister Sarah and her sons AJ and Cass but also for Bucky. AJ and Cass aside, Bucky is the one who has most of them, with cute or ridiculous names going from ‘my lover’ to ‘grumpy’. Some of your bracelets are in perfect contrast with his Vibranium arm.

As for Bucky, he’s always by your side and worries even when you assure him you’re not in pain. He helps you clean your wound, change your bandage and always makes sure you’re in a good sleeping position. Finally, during the night, when you’re asleep, Bucky is glued to you - while being careful about your wound - and delicately rests his head on your chest to hear your regular heartbeats. By hearing them, Bucky can breathe and sleep peacefully whilst saying to himself again and again you’re still alive, you’re still by his side, he hasn’t lost you.

After several weeks laying down, you can walk a longer distance than the one from your room to your bathroom. Sitting on your bed, you’re putting your shoes on when Bucky with his eyes wide open comes to you.

“What do you think you’re doing ? You need to rest.” he reminds you, stopping you from tying completely your left shoelace.

“The doctor told me I needed to walk to help with the healing.” you explain playing with the pearls of his bracelet making the word ‘oldman’.

“What kind of stupid advice is that ? You need to stay in bed.”

“Bucky, if I stay one more second on that damn bed, I’m gonna burn it down.” you inform with a serious face. “Besides, I’m not gonna run a marathon, I’m just gonna walk very slowly around the house. Come with me if it can make you feel any better.”

“What if you hurt yourself while walking ?” he inquires and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Then, thank God my amazing and strong boyfriend will be next to me to help me. Bucky, I’m fine.” you comfort him, looking in his eyes. “I’m not in pain and I need to move. I can’t stand there and look good anymore in this house. I know every corner of this bedroom, I need to go out.”

Bucky seems to consider it for a second, mentally weighing his options before sighing and nodding.

“OK, but if you feel even the slightest pain, you better tell me and we go home.” he orders, untying your left shoelace to redo it, “and we’re not walking more than five minutes.” he adds.

“Fifteen.” you negotiate. 

“Ten.”

“Deal.” you accept with a childish look.

Bucky finishes tying your right shoelace before giving you his hand to help you get up from the bed and examine your face for any sign of hurt. To prove him you’re fine, you smile at him before pecking his lips. He takes your right arm and locks it with his to support you while you start leaving your temporary quarter. Upon - finally - leaving the house, you take your time to enjoy the sun’s heat on your face. You walk, sharing with Bucky all of your observations on the landscape in front of you. Since you arrived, you didn’t get the time to admire the outside beauty of Sam’s house so you look at every tree, flower and wave, enjoying the nature Brooklyn doesn’t have.

After a few minutes of walking, you ask Bucky to stop. Immediately, he questions you, worried you might pass out at any given time.

“I’m fine.” you reassure him though his worried expression doesn’t leave his face.

“Sorry I’m always on your back but I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I know.”

“Do you think I’m too much ?” he questions while touching the bracelet with the word ‘sweetheart’.

“No, I think it’s cute the way you’re always worried.” you say, lifting his head with your hand. “You’re a real mother hen but I like it.” you add, making him chuckle a little. 

“Can you hold it against me ? I really thought I’d lost you.” he says, reminiscing the moment where he got to you as you were bleeding out. “When you started closing your eyes, I was sure it was the end. And I cannot lose you.” Bucky affirms with a shaking voice, “I know I don’t tell you often but my therapist says I need to learn to communicate what I’m feeling so here I am saying it : you matter to me and I need you in order to keep moving on. I know it might sound selfish but I cannot afford to lose you and if it were ever to happen… i don't know what I’d become.” he keeps saying with teary eyes, “I need you close to me. I love you so much.”

As you see a tear rolling down his cheeks, you take him in your arms and stroke his back. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and breathes in your smell. A part of Bucky feels bad for being the one getting comforted when you’re the one who got wounded notwithstanding he needs it. Losing you is his worst fear and since John shot you, he became aware his fear could become real in a second. You keep hugging him, proving to him it doesn't bother you to comfort him because you understand him.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you murmur in his ear, “so much.”

You stay in each other’s arms for a few minutes until your anxiety vanishes away. When you break the embrace, one of your hands finds its way to Bucky’s cheek and the second one strokes the bracelet with the pearls ‘forever’ before taking his left hand.

“I can’t promise you I’ll always be safe considering what we do for a living but I can promise you one thing : I will always do in my power everything to stay by your side and I want you to promise me the same because I need you as much as you need me.”

“I promise.”

Like to seal your promise, you delicately kiss each other with the Sun as a witness. Bucky doesn’t put his hand on your waist, worried he’ll hurt you involuntarily, so his hands find their way to your cheeks while yours get lost in his hair.

Marvel Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

[incesthemes]

hi, ciel! happy (late) wincest wednesday! :)

if you could have any two versions of sam and dean meet (e.g., s15!dean & boykingofhell!sam, etc.), which pairing do you think would get along best, and which do you think would get along worst? would any of them hate, love, or fear each other? which ones? hope your day is going well! <3

-lizzy

happy wincest wednesday!! sorry i'm late as well 🥴 i got wayyyy too absorbed in my book this past week.

this is such an interesting question!!! if i had to say, maybe late season 2 dean and season 10 sam might get along the best; their goals and desires regarding their relationship match up really well, and their levels of endless devotion to each other are nearly identical. they'd probably be able to live out some semblance of domestic bliss together, especially with sam no longer being under azazel's thumb. destiny successfully averted.

for getting along the worst, i think stanford era sam would really not mesh well with season 8/9 dean. dean operates on a fundamental, mutual understanding that they are each other's most important person and he's willing to push past any kind of boundary to ensure sam's safety and presence in his life. meanwhile, stanford era sam bears a grudge and a fierce, spiteful independence which is only sated by dean's willingness to let go. early seasons wincest only ever works because dean lets go of sam in the first place, so if sam meets a version of dean who is no longer willing to do that, then that development toward each other would probably never happen, or would happen only through arduous pains and so, so much conflict.

i'm not sure if there is a version of sam and dean who could ever truly hate each other, but the closest they could get is probably late seasons dean and stanford sam 🤔 but hate?? idk, in my humble opinion they're way too blinded by the soulmatism to ever hate each other.

this isn't exactly love per se (of course, all versions of sam love all versions of dean, and vice versa), but as is the popular opinion, demon dean and bloodfreak sam would match each other's freak way way way too much. ruby who??? no this is my brother and he makes me stronger with his devil blood. christ almighty.

maybe this one comes off as a stretch, but i think season 5 sam would fear vampire dean (probably not the other way around, but maybe there's guilt there instead). i think sam would see himself in dean's bloodlust, in a way that strikes too hard at something too fresh in his mind. he would look at dean and see reflected the version of him that dean watched helplessly for a year—and what's worse is that he would have no idea how to fix it. lock him in a panic room for a week and he'll come down and be "fixed" eventually. but there's no solving the vampirism, especially if he doesn't know about the cure or if dean has already drunk human blood.

the match-up i'd like to see though is post-canon sam and stanford era dean (2005 dean, right before the pilot): i think their yearning game would be apocalyptic levels of intense. especially if sam is fresh out of 15x20, still wallowing in his grief, still begging for dean to come back to him—and he does, but in the most unexpected way. and dean, four years into missing sam—maybe it's right after john goes missing and dean has never felt so utterly alone in his life. and they find each other, at two wholly different stages in their life, but the longing is the same, the grief is the same, the desire is the same.

anyway thank you for the ask!!! this was a lot of fun to think about :)