#Sorry but Sam is just so damn good

[owlsie-hoot]

04.04

[socksandbuttons]

Okay while i ahvent kept up with luanrs side to things i still think its actually just bullshit the immediate reaction to what lunar did is 'LETS KILL HIM' from this family

not even by the fandom but by SPECIFICALLY MOON AND MONTY (moon im at least forgiving cause JUST after their argument)

I get lunars been a dick lately but jesus Monty?? Monty thats ur boy??? What the fuck???

Like this is just nexus plot but without lunar going emo

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Shit take no one wants but Danny wouldnt trust any of the batfam. Like not a one of them.

Boy isnt trained like they are to notice peoples habits and tiks but he has one hell or a vibe check. He can’t tell they are hiding something everytime one approached him to try and see if hes a mata and or alright.

Some of them are clearly not ok by a living human standard but Danny isnt gonna out himself to weird vibe strangers. He didn’t even tell his sister now did he? He probably would t have told(watch this) Tucker and Sam if they hadn’t of been there.

Now I aint sayin he wouldnt reach out as Phantom to like check on their ectoplasm and maybe help em out, lord knows Jason could use some helpin out in that department. I also aint sayin the batfam would figure him out, they do be smart. But if Danny is in Gothem and he comes across a Bat in gear and outta gear hes probably gonna put two and two together. I always operate on ghostking au so im assuming hes gotten better at recognising ecto signatures.

Lord knows if it’s Jason/redhood than hes gonna for sure notice that one.

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[thatfaerieprincess]

Feel free to skip on past this, I’ve just gotta ramble for a minute bc i cant stop thinking about this kid from work last week. They were so much like me at that age (5-6th grade) that I didn’t know how to interact with them? I didn’t know what to say to them bc I don’t know what I needed to hear back then, what I would’ve WANTED to hear? What would I have even listened to? They were almost entirely silent and looked out at the world with a hesitant curiosity, but would pull back so fast as soon as you tried to interact w them. Little to no eye contact, face hidden in hair, always looking down, following others until they could strike off on their own and just quietly explore. Intently focusing on drawing any chance they got. We did an art project and they hunched over their piece the entire time and wouldn’t let any of us see it in progress, refusing to look up or acknowledge us if we asked to see it or to know what it was. Idk. I barely interacted w them while they were with us for those few days bc I didn’t know how? It almost hurt to try? It was like looking back into a time machine and i didn’t know how to tell them that it does get better,,, I still don’t even know if where I am is better, some days feel so unsure that I don’t think I’ve made any progress at all. But seeing that kid, idk. I’ve come pretty far. And it DOES get better. Maybe it’s not the best now, or even that great at all, but it’s better. I wish I could’ve told them but I don’t think they’d have wanted to hear it anyway

[quietwingsinthesky]

(I got an error message when I tried to send this so sorry if you get this twice!) Yeah "moldy pennies" is just a really unfunny & uncreative play on mark p's name. I 100% agree with that fandom post re: separating actors from their character, & even if I didn't... Misha just didn't do a good job as casifer, & I care way more about the performance/art of television (which I know sounds silly re: late supernatural, but just because something is bad doesn't mean we can't have standards)

Yeah, overall I don't have an opinion on the spn actors beyond 'did they do well at their jobs' because it's none of my business and doesn't interest me. i'm not unaware of The Controversies, but one thing you've got to admit, mp understood the assignment. he understood the assignment better than the writers lmao. i genuinely think his performance is the saving grace of late seasons lucifer.

misha collins. i have no idea if it was the writing, the directing, or his own choices, but he is missing something. it really stands out specifically when you watch the episode where you go from nick!lucifer to casifer, there's just something off about the way he plays it. not to say 'season 5 did it better' but i will forever remember in swan song when we finally go from nick!lucifer to sam!lucifer and how eerily good the transition was. casifer is making the noises and doing the dance, but i. do not think misha collins really knew what he was doing askjdalsjd. again, not totally his fault because late seasons lucifer is a nearly unsalvageable trainwreck of bad writing, but i Do Not Like Watching Him.

[nardaviel]

oc wants meme

I'm just gonna do this for Sora and Sam, my main guys. Listen, it's a bad pain day and talking about my OCs cheers me up

Sora Yumura

His faceclaim is Miura Haruma, when he had longer hair. The first pic is The Sora pic. My Photoshop skills aren't that good but that's as good as they're going to get, and I think it gets the idea of what he looks like across. But the second one is an extremely Sora facial expression.

Description: Tall, a little too skinny, but well-dressed and strikingly attractive, with wavy green hair and observant grey eyes in a clever face. A lot of poise, a lot of charisma, witty but respectful. All of that is a mask and he is really hoping you're taken in by his facade of functionality, but it is convincing as hell. Even dazzling, at times, if he needs to really turn on the bright lights. So almost everyone falls for it, in the end. His (rich) parents died when he was young and he was raised by his (incredibly rich) aunt and uncle, who were emotionally abusive, although he would say that that's an exaggeration. His little cousin is like a brother to him, and he protected him from his aunt and uncle as best he could, but that didn't stop him from getting the fuck out of Japan entirely as soon as he could leave for university. (There were other reasons and other traumas behind that too, but this isn't Sora's entire life story lol.)

What do they say they want? (i.e., what are the desires they put out into the world and have no trouble admitting)

Sora wants the top job. He won't be crass enough to actually say that to you, but his ambition is clear enough if you're in a position to look at his education and employment choices. He wants what's best for his loved ones, of course, which will always include his little cousin Ibushi, and depending on time period may also include Sam and his children, if he has any in the AU in question. He is likely to downplay how serious he is about that, however, and he won't mention his small circle of close friends, whose safety and well-being he is just as intense about. (But if their well-being is actually at issue, you may find yourself surprised by his complete 180 from charming and diplomatic to grim and uncompromising and ruthless.)

In all honesty, Sora isn't very open with most people about how he feels or what he wants. Aside from really surface-level stuff ("I'd kill for a coffee"), this is about all you're going to get.

What do they think they want? (i.e., what are the desires they keep hidden and only admit to their closest loved ones)

He wants to keep his loved ones safe and happy, and to them he'll admit that he'll do a whole lot to make that happen. He wants to believe his parents would be proud of him. He wants to be able to use his power to make a positive difference, but also to advance his personal interests, and he doesn't feel particularly bad about the second one. He wants to crush all his competition and see the looks on their pathetic faces when they realize he's beaten them, but he wants no one else to even notice anything has happened, because it's more satisfying that way. He wants to raise his children differently from how he was raised.

What do they actually want? (i.e., what is something they subconsciously need, but either do not realize or cannot admit)

Sora wants to feel safe. He hasn't felt safe since his parents died and he went to live with his aunt and uncle, which means in most AUs he doesn't remember ever feeling that way, and in the others it's a faint, hazy memory and he kind of suspects he made it up. He doesn't think in those terms, though, which is a shame because it's behind a lot of his decision-making. As time passes, he will start to experience transient moments of safety with Sam, and as he gets older, the omnipresent sense of danger will decrease some. That's about the best he's gonna get, but he'll still be grateful for it, without being able to name what it is.

Sam Quinn

He doesn't have a picture. :C I'm sorry, Sam. He is also @vashtijoy's OC as much as he is mine but I am writing about him nonetheless.

Description: Very tall giant man, with fluffy golden hair and hazel eyes that are quick to brighten with amusement. Otherwise, they're calm and thoughtful. Sensual lips, either a skinny nerd frame or an intimidatingly muscled frame depending on which AU he comes from. He's the middle child of a normal and loving middle-class family in London (unless the AU dictates that he is a medieval peasant instead, but he remains the middle child of a loving family). His curiosity and cleverness have often gotten him into Oxford, but also often gotten him into trouble. I wish you could be less interested in explosions, Sam.

What do they say they want? (i.e., what are the desires they put out into the world and have no trouble admitting)

Sam wants to learn things! He wants to study, read books, go to interesting places, and build his professional life around learning and discovery. He often ends up as an academic, and sometimes a teacher. He is often grabbed by a new interest and gets sucked into it for a bit, and he will definitely tell you everything he hopes to find out about it. He wants to be able to help his siblings take care of his parents when they get old. He wants to do good and help the less fortunate, especially once he marries into Soras $100mil+ family (which is only a family once he marries into it; it was just Sora until that point, alone with his parents' inheritance).

What do they think they want? (i.e., what are the desires they keep hidden and only admit to their closest loved ones)

He wants a family. He's always the reason they have kids. Sora loves their children and is a devoted father once they have them, but he only agrees to adopt (or find a surrogate, or use whatever magical gay-parent baby method is available) because having children means so much to Sam.

He also wants to be open about their relationship, when being closeted is often important to Sora's career, and so Sora has to make a decision about what to prioritize. (The answer is Sam. He chooses Sam. But it's genuinely difficult for him.) Sam doesn't ever ask him to make that choice, but when Sora pushes, he will admit that being closeted makes him sad.

You might be getting the impression that Sam is less of a complicated tangle of needs and wants and impulses than Sora. You're right! Sora is *gestures* like he is, and Sam is not like that.

What do they actually want? (i.e., what is something they subconsciously need, but either do not realize or cannot admit)

He wants a community. A family with Sora and children is probably the best way to make this happen, but in other AUs it's been Sora and a few friends they often see and trade with. He just needs a little group of people around him. Like Sora, he isn't really aware of this innermost need. He just thinks he wants kids because he wants to be a dad, which is also true.

Sam just doesnt thrive when he's alone, even if he's in the middle of a city. That's not a community; he needs something tight-knit, where he's respected for who he is as a person and what he can contribute. (In some AUs, that's another answer to this question. He wants someone to see him and think he's not broken just because he's curious and asks questions.) ...Gotta say, though, all of this causes a lot fewer problems than Sora's constant the-alarm-is-broken sense of being in danger does.

Sora does poorly when he's alone as well, although he doesn't need a community in the same way. He needs people who are his, and who he belongs to in turn. The best way to make him feel safe is to make him feel protected. So although their wants are different, they harmonize, inasmuch as Sora's desperate, clawing, wailing sense of danger can harmonize with anything.

[trashbaget]

supernatural be like,

pilot: sam is just a normal boy living a normal life! uh-oh! bIG bROTHER dEAN shows up, skiddlliebibibdlienbooboopping 6 years of of silenntt. communicatiooonnn. under a fuzzy pink rug of manly flaire and flirtiness(straigh-t!)! hey man!(6 months old)!! dad’s still my hero and i have issues!! want to go HUNTIN LIKE A MOOSE MAAN? guns! impala! fighting! and sam is like mmmp? No Way—José—!! but dean gets his way when sam changes his mind because this time, it’s personal.!

wendigo (green): TOMMY! BRAD?! GARY!? TROY.h.mp3 ROCKY!! puka shell necklace. the man-kid from glee. backdoors. men man MANLINESS! i’m just cruisin’ on my bike, summertime my tee shirt tight–he say i’m the type he like, like i’m a biscuit he could bite–. bear traps. GRAINNNNNNNNN!!!!!ggggrr HAILEY! DEAN?! ROCKY!! gender is a construct. gETTING oFF iN a cAVE and Coming Out (failed), and other hyper-masculine//faggatrous activities to do with your brother

dead in the water: jensen ackles and some old man and a wee child make you fucking sob about brothers and fathers and sons and daddy issues while “second chance” by shinedown plays softly in the background ., and there’s d R O W N I N G

[bat-bytes-back]

this is like really out of character for us rn but we need somewhere to say this rn!!!

we’re really starting to feel like that a lot of people who say BLM and ACAB or are making pins of it are like just saying it as like an aesthetic? I mean not everyone obviously, and I’m not saying if you’re doing those things that you are using it as an aesthetic, but I feel like anytime I look online about it it’s all like aesthetic shit. which pisses us tf off as a bodily black system.

it’s not even just with BLM either, I feel like I’ve seen it with other things too. it’s used as an aesthetic and trend to some people and I just ??? if you treat it like that then you can kindly get the fuck off our page because we have no respect for you

our lives are not your fucking trend

our lives are not your fucking aesthetic

[lottieurl]

finished s5 of spn and ngl i don't really think it was that good of a finale

[cryptfile]

★ kinktober file 01 — wandering star, d. winchester

based on this request here, fem! reader, 18+ mdni, warnings of established relationship, degradation, dumbification, edging, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, english is not my first lenguage (thank god!) any mistakes? i’m not sorry for it, feel free to hit me up with requests in my inbox to keep kinktober going! <3 also, dividers by @cafekitsune!

He’s cocky after a hunt goes the way he wants.

Dean Winchester’s always a damn headache after a sucessful solved case. He gets in this mood where he feels invincible and well, he just feels like he could win the lottery if he puts his mind into it.

Sam’s done by the time you guys are in the next town, checking into another cheap motel. The older Winchester has been a damn pain in the ass the whole ride so the first thing he does when you guys ask for separate rooms? Ditch the problem to you.

“He’s your boyfriend,” he’d say, obviously done with his sassy attitude as he left to his own private space — Sacred space he values since you appeared. “You deal with him.”

You love your boyfriend that’s for sure but after a hunt? Your muscles are sore, you feel like you’re going to get sick and on top of all? You been dying for a hot shower and bed.

Dean’s plans are way different, cause by the time Sam leaves saying he’s going to buy burgers in any open restaurant, he’s all over you. Literally.

“Why are you so needy?” you ask furrowing your brows, he’s in a good mood now that he survived a violent ghost who’s bones you had to burn, and honestly, it doesn’t make any sense: The rush of adrenaline? The near death experience? Usually he’s deep in his third dream by now, but that night? He got this grin in his face when he’s pushing you to the motel bed despite any response he could recieve—. “Dean.”

“Just want to make m’lady feel on cloud nine,” he says, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a fight you cannot possibly win. “Can I do that? Take care of my girl?”

Thing is, deep down, you don’t want to win any fight. Not that one at least when Dean’s pulling you to the edge of the bed, unblucking his belt as he lets the fabric of his jeans fall to the floor, he’s craving you ever since you pulled this show up in the morning when you said there was no time to shower together since the case was so important. Naked, standing in a foggy bathroom: You won’t let him have you? Not even ten minutes? Fucking unfair.

He can do a lot in ten. You do love it even when it’s rushed, when Sam’s pushing on the other side of the door screaming something about being late, his only goal is to take whatever he needs, so in ten minutes he can do plenty. He can kneel on the slippery floor, filthy thoughts as he helps you lift up your leg — “Such a pretty pussy, already dripping for me?” he would said, the sound of his voice imprinted in your memory. The warm water burns on your skin as he uses a hand to spread you open, buring his face in your cunt without a previous warning.

Even under the shower he makes you sweat. Dean’s damn skilled so he knows what spot he needs to hit to get you there, the wet sounds that fill the bathroom on random mornings — He knows you’re getting there when his digits finally fill you up in a way you can even describe, his tongue lapping over your clit, taking his time, savouring each sound he manages to get out of you, the way you say his name when he’s nose-deep in what he claims belongs to him.

And god you’re a mess. A fucking mess every single time.

“You owe me,” Dean says confident, “We solve the case, job done here. I want your full attention now.”

He has it soon after. Every ounce of it.

He’s not patient enough to play with you before like he would do in the morning, in the dirty motel you’re now at the hunter would mumble something about not giving a single fuck about preparing you cause you’re already wet enough for him, something about being already used to his size cause he’d fucked you plenty of times before, that your warm and tight cunt is already prepared for him cause you’ve been his for months, convinced that you can take him. No problem at all.

“You were such a bitch to me this morning,” he says, pushing your cheek against the matress, not caring enough about your comfort as he forces himself inside you, muffling the sounds of your moans as he places his hand on your mouth, keeping you in place—. “Do you have any idea of how hard is to concentrate on a ghost when all I can think is to have you beneath?”

He’s rough when he’s needy, straight up filthy as he lets his primal desires take over. Dean forgets about it all. His hand collides against your ass a couple of times, spanking hard enough so the skin is red to be visibly noticiable, to make you think about another pain more than the one you felt as he’s finally buried inside you.

“Atta girl” he praises, leaning to place kisses on your shoulders, giving you just enough time to adjust— “Lookin’ so pretty when full of my cock.”

He enjoys the view so much. So damn much Dean chuckles for a second, almost proud of the mess he’s done with you, always so damn tight, already clenching on his dick as you squirm desesperate to move. He got you where he wants you to be.

“Move that nice ass for me,” he says seconds after, demanding you to take him faster as he moves you at the rythm he needs—. “That’s it, fuck yourself pretty witch, work for it.”

“Dean,” you whine, the sound distant thanks to his fingers covering your mouth— “Dean-please”

“What are you begging for?” he chuckles, the sound of his laugh making your skin shiver as his hips buckle up to meet the pace you’ve been setting— “My girl is dumb for my cock already? Only a few minutes in and my baby is talking nonsense?”

He’s giving you exactly what you need, that nice pace as he grabs you by the tights, fingers buried in your skin as his movements become more erratic, desesperate as the time passes.

Dean waits. Cause he can be a cruel son of a bitch sometimes, drive you fucking mad cause he knows when’s you’re close to release, when you’re ready to cum as he slides his cock off, leaving you hollow as you loudly gasp.

“What the actual-fuck?” you ask clearly annoyed, looking over your shoulder as he offers you a sly grin—. “Dean, what the fuck?”

“We are goint to work in some manners here,” he says, grabbing you by the hair, roughly pulling your head to the side so he can look at your face while speaking—. “Cause you’re not doing to me what you did in the morning ever again. Teasing me all fucking day, acting all innocent about it. No. You’re gonna cum when I say so. And we’re gonna start all over again ‘till that big brains of yours finally gets it: No more leaving Dean Winchester all hard in the bathroom.”

next kinktober file [ art donaldson ] // masterlist

[lostalioth]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭

→ premise: you in those damn jeans, those stupid jeans that fit you just right. your hips, your waist, your thighs. and god your ass in those jeans nearly had sam drooling. it was shameful he knew it but he couldn’t help it, not when your ass looked so prefect.

→ pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, anal, caught masturbating, switch!sam? [he’s dominating but also jsut whiny and desperate?], nicknames [angel, baby], no lube or prep really for the anal part [i lowkey didn’t wanna write it lmao], not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 17

It was pathetic, he was pathetic he knew that and yet he just couldn't care at the moment nor help himself. You looked so good he swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain malfunction, and his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive. 

He couldn't focus, could barely understand a word the witnesses were saying, it was all going in one ear and out the other. His eyes were just glued on you, on your body, on those stupid perfectly fitting jeans you wore. He felt like a hormonal teenager again, getting all worked up over a dumb pair of tight jeans on a woman. It didn't help that Sam has already been nursing a small crush on you that he’s had sense him and his brother met you. 

He had to bail on you and dean in the middle of the interviews, giving the both of you some excuse about not feeling the best and that maybe he needed some extra rest. Though in truth his pants were just getting tighter by the minute and his head getting foggier. He somehow managed to walk himself back to the motel, the short walk doing not a damn thing to clear his head. You in those fucking jeans, those jeans that hug your thighs and your wasit just right, those stupidly tight jeans that made your ass look so fucking bitable it was making him lose his mind. 

Even though muffled by his t-shirt pulled up and tucked between his teeth all that filled the quiet dingy motel room were Sams whines they were so loud. He was a mess the second he unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants and boxers down his thighs. His large hand furiously stroking up and down his aching cock, pulling strangled whimpers and cries from his lips. His precum leaking out from his tip acting as lube for his hand to glide along his shaft faster, squeezing it hard as he goes. 

He was already so close, it only added to his feeling of being pathetic, he really was a horny teenager now, he couldn't even last that long with his fist around his cock and his head filled with thoughts of you. You on top of him riding him as he whines, you under him your limbs an entangled mess as you pant and moan into his mouth. Him with his head buried between your thighs, you on your knees for him with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, any and all different kinds of images of you all over him. “Need you s’bad, s‘fuckin’ bad holy shit….” He hissed through his teeth in a hushed tone as his head fell back in pleasure, cries of your name and whines about how good you looked fall from his mouth like a waterfall the closer he gets to the edge.

“Hey Sam? Honey? you doing okay?” Your voice shattered the daydream going on in his head that was just about to make him cum. In shock and embarrassment his hand stills, inadvertently edging himself. The nickname only makes his cock twitch more as a short whine comes out of his mouth in response. He was caught and it should be embarrassing, humiliating even, you caught him jerking off in the middle of the day. He should be feeling anything else but what he was right now, It shouldn’t excite him that you caught him. But he was too far gone into a desperate type of head space to care at the moment. 

“Oh shit!, i'm sorry i didn't mean to barge in i thought you’d be napping” you babble out, covering your face as heat spreads through your body as you turn around and move like you're about to leave. As you turn sam gets an even better almost 360º view of your body, how the jeans cling to your thighs, the waistband snug around your waist, the denim looks practically painted on your ass, they were so tight.

“Need it s’bad, please i need you s’bad yoou dont have to leave” he whines out, you had already caught him so any composure or decorum he had has been thrown out the window alongside reason. He could be completely ruining your friendship at this moment, you could be disgusted with him and reject him but he was taking that risk cause he was desperate. 

Your body as if moving on its own accord, revealing your own hidden desires turns back around to face Sam, slowly taking your hands away from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes scan over his body, his shirt tugged up and stuffed in his mouth exposing his chest, a small trail of hair leading down to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around his cock, a pleading look in his glazed over eyes. Slowly you make your way over to him spread out on the bed, your steps careful as if you were gonna spook him by moving too fast. “What- Uh- what do you need honey?” You question, still a bit confused and extremely nervous. You’d do anything to help Sam, and getting to see him like this all pathetic and desperate was a bonus that was making slick settle in your core and your thighs clench together. 

“I need you, want you s’bad” he whines out dropping his shirt from his mouth as he grabs ahold of your hand when you get close enough. Placing your hand on his stiff throbbing cock with his own, you let out a small gasp at the feeling of his warm cock under your touch. “This is what you do to me, you and ya’ fucking stupid tight jeans” he hissed out, letting go of your hand and taking note of the fact you dont move it off his cock he slaps your ass hard with his big hand resting and gropping at it after it comes down. 

“These damn jeans that make your ass look so good angel, so good that I couldn't focus, baby. Wanna fuck you s’bad, wanna fuck this ass” he was rambling now looking up at you with his signature puppy eyed look that made you melt. He was so hard it was getting painful, especially since he stopped himself right when he was gonna cum.

He's already thrown caution to the wind by this point, there was no going back.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You gave in. 

Willing to do whatever it took to make Sam feel better as well as the fact that all his begging had made you about just as desperate for him. He had you on his lap now, your back pressed against his bare chest. He was quick to strip you of all your clothes, eyes glued to the way he had to practically peel your jeans off your body. Your thighs were spread and laid over his legs that he had bent up, his feet planted flat on the bed. 

Your head was spinning from the feeling of his rough hands exploring every inch of your body. Palming at your tits and his thumb flicking your nipples, squeezing your waist when you squirm in his grasp and grind your ass against him. His lips were mouthing and kissing along your neck, tongue poking out to lick up the side and even behind your ear, sucking patches of small hickies onto the unmarked skin. Your body relaxed more and more in his arms as Sam said; “Need you real relaxed for this angel okay? As bad as i want this i don't wanna hurt ya’” you were certainly relaxed once his thumb started rubbing circles over your bundle of nerves, sighing in a mixture of pleasure and relief. You whine softly as your pussy aches, begging for release already as your folds are dripping in slick, a trail of it sliding down your cunt to your ass even. 

Lifting his hips his tip nudges at the tight ring of muscle of your ass, his precum that hasn't stopped leaking as well as his spit that coated his cock acted as your only form of lube as he bullies his thick cock inside. With a broken gasp in both pain and pleasure at the new sensation you dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm that was wrapped around your stomach holding you against him. “Sam~ Honey- Fuck!” You blabber out in a string of jumbled together moans, losing track of where you were gonna go with your sentence once his cock pushes all the way inside, your hole sucking his cock inside. 

“Atta’ girl, s’good f’me angel. God your ass is so fuckin’ tight” he cries out, he was already still on edge from just his fist but this feeling was gonna send him flying over it faster than he wanted. The pleasure of his cock filing your ass as well as his thumb which hasn't stopped playing with your clit has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last long, it's too much” you moan out as his hips buck up and thrust into you, settling at a fast and relentless pace not giving you any more time to get adjusted. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay, j’ cum, just cum for me angel” he nods his head frantically, moans and desperate cries fill the room and you don't know what sounds are coming from who as you clench down on him. 

Your body tensing up and your eyes screwing shut as your climax washes over you, a loud wanton moan falling out of your mouth. Worry about the other residents hearing anything long since past, Sam even felt a small ego boost knowing they were hearing you scream out his name. His hips not stopping their hard thrusting, Sam too lost in pleasure with his head buried in your neck as his cock pounds your ass making you see stars as you cum. 

“Feel so good angel, holy shit squeezin’ me even tighter as you cum shit~” he groans out, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine as his breath fans across your ear. Your cum leaks out of your pussy, sliding down to Sams cock giving it even more slick for him to fuck up into you harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. 

“Gonna cum angel, but dont think im done with ya’ when i do, need to fuck that pretty pussy too. Been dreamin’ about that sense we met, need to make you all mine” he cries out as he turns your face towards his and crashes his lips against yours, kissing you like a man starved. His moans are muffled into the kiss as well as more whines of your name as he cums hard.

→ a/n: AHHHH last day of kinktober is tomorrow!! Im hoping i get to post the last day on halloween but i might not so if i dont expect it nov

[traveler-at-heart]

Miss Communication

Summary: Natasha is avoiding the feelings talk so you use the only thing that seems to be working: jealousy.

A/N: This request and entire plot is from @happychopshoppenguin so all credit really goes to them. I just put into a few more words.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Stealthy, precise, lethal.

Well, what a load of crap. All Natasha Romanoff is, is a coward. There.

You’re so pissed off, all you want to do is open up her file and write “committment issues” under weaknesses.

But that’s not your job.

No, your job is intelligence and data analysis. Go over information, read endless reports and make a summary that the Avengers can understand, because they don’t have the time to sit around and do it themselves.

And now, you’re here, talking about a new terrorist organization with Steve. Natasha should be here, as second in command, but for reasons unknown to you and Captain America, she has failed to show up.

Again, coward.

Fine, if she doesn’t answer your texts you’ll find her anywhere she’s hiding in this big ass building.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam greets as you walk down the hall.

“Damn. Is it allowed to have guns in the kitchen area?” you smile mischiveously, used to flirting around with the team. He looks around, clearly confused and you reach out to touch his bicep. “I mean, what are they feeding you, Wilson? You’re as buff as Steve”

“Hell, yeah” he smiles, flexing and putting on a little show. You’re laughing and making small talk when someone magically appears, glaring.

Natasha is fuming and you don’t know if the anger is directed at you or Sam. Looking directly at her, you laugh and place a strand of hair behind your ear, as if Sam just said the funniest thing ever.

She can’t answer a fucking text but feels jealous? Well, good. At least you know she cares.

“You’re annoying her, Wilson” Bucky joins you, leaning against the kitchen island and giving you a crooked smile. “Hey, doll”

“Hi, handsome” you place your hands on each side of his face. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah” he says, practically drooling.

“I think you’d look really good if you cut your hair”

“I’ll think about it” he promises.

“Move aside, I’m taking Y/N out for lunch” Sam says, pushing Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart. You can’t handle all of this” you tease. “But I won’t say no to lunch”

“That’s good enough for me” he agrees, offering his arm. You take it, winking at Bucky and walking away.

Natasha is already planning six different ways to make Wilson disappear, and Bucky goes to his room.

“Gotta get a haircut” he mumbles.

Oh, like hell.

Neither one of them can touch what’s hers.

—

Natasha: How was lunch?

Y/N: Oh, NOW you text me?

Y/N: We need to talk. Call me.

—

Natasha throws the phone across the room, feeling like screaming into her pillow. It still smells like you, which makes her heart ache.

If only she hadn’t been so stupid to ruin whatever it is you two had.

You were on top of her, riding her strap, as you had done so many times since you started your situationship. Hands on Natasha’s abdomen, feeling how her muscles worked to pump in and out of you.

“I love your tits” Natasha said, breathless. You nodded, bouncing harder, moaning desperately. “I love your pussy, it’s perfect for my cock”

“Baby, I’m so close” you whined, so desperate you barely registered her next words.

“I love you”

Eyes wide open, your movements stopped for a second. Before you could answer, Natasha flipped you and you were face down, ass in the air as she entered, pounding harder.

And you really wanted to ask what the fuck and if she really meant what she said, but you were so close that all you could do was moan her name and come hard around the strap.

You barely registered when Natasha pulled out. You felt empty and confused and so stretched.

“Nat? Babe, wait”

“I have to… I forgot a mission report, I’m sorry” she muttered, putting her clothes on and leaving in a hurry. She ran out of her own fucking room before owning what she said.

And now, she couldn’t even look at you. She couldn’t stand the idea that you would reject her.

The little hope that lingered in the back of her mind was the most painful feeling of all.

All she wanted was to be loved by you.

—

Call me means fucking call me.

It means don’t pretend nothing happened.

God, she’s so infuriating. And hot. And good at sex.

But mostly infuriating.

Now you’re back in the Compound, determined to get her to talk to you. Which is why you decided to wear your low cut dress and push up bra.

She said she loves your breasts, right? Well, here they fucking are.

You carry a bunch of binders that need filing, and they help cover your boobs as you enter the living room. Natasha is sitting, and you think she is almost ready to approach you when Sam beats her to it.

“Here, let me help you” Sam offers. The minute your cleavage comes to view, his eyes widen.

“Hey, doll” Bucky greets and you turn around. His mouth flails open, but all you can do is admire his new look.

“Buck, oh my God! You actually listened to me?” you run your hands through his hair, making it impossible for him to look away from your chest. “You look absolutely stunning. Good boy”

“Yeah, uh… I…”

The interaction annoys Natasha, but she knows you won’t even entertain the idea of doing anything with those two.

Her mood quickly changes when Carol appraches you. She's a whole different story.

“Carol, it’s been ages since you’ve been here! All I read are your mission briefings” you say, hugging her tight.

“Well, how bout I tell you everything I’ve been up to over dinner?” she offers with a smile.

“Y/N” Natasha finally snaps. “I missed this week’s report. Mind filling me in?”

“Sure thing” you pull away, reluctantly. “Be right back, Danvers”

Natasha leads you to the conference room and pushes you against the door as soon as you enter.

“Why must you be such a brat?” she whispers against your ear, biting down your earlobe.

“It's the only way to get your attention, Natasha” you protest, trying to sound upset.

You’re torn between lust and anger, but she’s such a good kisser that her lips make you forget everything that’s happened in the last few days.

“I should punish you” she threatens, going down your body and pulling the dress up. Who is she kidding? Her mouth is watering at the thought of tasting you. “Bet you’d love that”

Love.

The word pulls you out of your trance. Natasha is about to take your panties off when you stop her, pulling her away by her hair.

“We’re going to talk”

“You don’t make the calls here”

“Natasha, stop it. I’m serious”

You really don’t want her to stop, but you can’t keep wondering if she meant it.

You want her to mean it.

“Are you seriously gonna make a big deal about it?”

“Ugh, you drive me insane, Natasha. Why can’t you just admit what you said and whether or not you meant it? Do you even care about what I want?”

She stays silent and you groan, pulling up your dress and fixing your clothes.

“I really wanted to be more than just fuck buddies” you admit before going out. “But if the thought of loving me is so embarassing for you, then forget about it. I won’t force the feeling out of you”

Natasha stays behind, wondering how she got it all wrong.

You wanted her.

By the time she comes to her senses, you’re long gone. But Carol does meet her in the hallway, smiling.

“Hey, do you mind telling Cap I’m skipping our meeting? Y/N and I are having dinner”

“Sure” Natasha nods, feeling her stomach drop.

Now it’s too late and she lost you.

—

The second anniversary of the Sokovian Accords comes and goes in a flash. Natasha really wanted to skip it, go find you and apologize.

And yet, here she is, in the Quinjet, flying back to the Compound after two days of exhausting diplomacy.

“Why couldn’t we stay a few days in Paris?” Sam laments for the third time.

“New recruits are in the middle of their training” Barton says from the pilot seat. “At least they got a break these last couple of days”

 “No, they didn’t” Wanda says. “Y/N is training them. Maria asked her to do it before we left”

“Y/N?” everyone says, looking at each other.

“But she’s a data analyst, not a field agent” Sam says.

“And the sweetest person ever” Bucky adds. He holds Natasha’s glare and smiles. Oh, he knows what’s up.

“Well, let’s make sure we put them back into shape when we get there” Steve slaps Bucky’s arm.

Boy, are they all wrong. When the team goes back to the Compound, you’re in the middle of a training session. A guy runs out of the gym, his shoulder crashing against Sam’s as he bolts for the exit.

“She’s fucking crazy, man” he says to himself, looking terrified.

“What the hell?”

Steve pushes the door to the gym. And there you are, in the middle of sparring. With one swift motion you kick the guy to the floor, and he puts his hands up, as if begging for mercy.

“Oh, we have company” you taunt, walking confidently around the students. “Anyone want to fight the Avengers? I promise you they’re not as hard to beat”

“Who is she and what has she done to Y/N?” Barton whispers.

Natasha has to hold back a moan. You look cold and deathly, having kicked all of their asses without breaking a sweat. That also explains why you’re so… bendy.

“Fine. Since none of you could even land a hit on me, you’re running ten laps. Don’t come back here unless you’ve thrown up or cried once”

All the recruits scramble to their feet, relieved now that they can get away from you. You turn around, giving the Avengers a challenging look.

“What? Wanna give it a try? I’ll go easy on you” you say. “Maybe not on Natasha, though. She hasn’t been a good girl”

“Ew” Wanda says, leaving the room. Between that and Natasha’s bendy thought, that was so loud she might as well have screamed it in the middle of the gym, she’s had enough.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got” Barton is the only one that steps up. You nod, evaluating his approach. He throws the first punch but it never lands. You move out of his way at record speed, keeping the contact at minimum while you kick the back of his legs, making him fall on his knees. Another three blows and Clint is face down on the mat.

“Pass” Sam says when you turn around to see who’s next.

“I’ll take my chances” Natasha says, stepping up. You smile in a way that makes a chill run down her spine.

Natasha thinks you can never go wrong with a classic move, so she throws her legs around your neck. But you block the movement and make her land on her back, hands pinned abover her head.

It happens at least three different times, each position becoming more sexual.

“I think we should leave” Bucky says.

“In a minute”

“Come on, Wilson” he forces him out the door, closing it for good measure and hoping you keep your clothes on before the recruits come back.

If they even come back.

“I promise you, you’re not gonna win this time, Natasha” you say, out of breath for the first time. Her eyes travel to your lips and you lean forward, stopping inches away from her mouth. “And I sure as hell ain’t letting you go without talking about that thing you said the other day”

“Please…”

“Now you’re polite. Now you say please. I’ve been chasing you for a fucking week to know if you like me for more than my tits and ass” you finally give in, kissing her for a few seconds. She whines against your mouth, trying to create friction. But your hold is too strong and she can’t move an inch without your permission.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I was scared you’d reject me and then everything would be ruined forever between us. I love you, so damn much it scares me” Natasha finally breaks, surprising herself with the way she’s pouring her heart out to you.

But that’s how much she loves you and how much she needs you.

Her words leave you breathless and you smile, going back to being your usual self.

“Natasha, I love you so damn much, it drives me crazy. Please don’t ever doubt that, sweetheart”

She nods, her nose rubbing against yours and you finally do what you’ve been craving all week. You kiss her, gently at first, and then more passionately, your hands dropping from hers to let her hug you.

You moan against her mouth, Natasha’s tongue slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, I need you” you moan, going back to being submissive for the redhead.

“What does my pretty girl want? My mouth or my fingers?”

“Just you, anything, please”

Thinking back to the last time she almost had you, her mouth waters and she decides to flip you on your back and travel down your body, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and pulling down your shorts and underwear.

“All of this for me?” she asks, running her fingers up and down your slit, collecting your juices and sucking on her digit. “I missed your taste, princess”

“Nat, please” you cant your hips up, hoping she takes the hint. You’re too far gone to form a coherent sentence.

Natasha darts her tongue out. She moans at the taste, and snakes her arms around your thighs to keep you in place. Her tongue goes up and down, then deep inside you and you shudder.

You would almost feel embarrassed for lasting so little, but it’s not your fucking fault she was hiding for a week.

When you remember that, your hands go to her hair and you pull her closer. Natasha enjoys the roughness, her movements speeding up and pushing you over the edge.

You come, crying out her name and trembling. As you struggle to catch your breath, Natasha moves up, letting you taste yourself in her mouth.

“Hey, baby”

“Hey” you say, smiling.

“Can I take you out to dinner tonight? I’d like to make it up to you”

“Yes to dinner. And give me a couple more of those orgasms and we’ll call it even”

“That sounds like a deal” she smiles against your lips, eager to make up for the lost time.

[jobean12-blog]

Mission Accomplished

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 4,157

Summary: You've had a crush on Bucky from the moment you met and now that Sam has the two of you going on a mission together you're not sure how to handle it. Sure you've had casual conversastions before and hung out as a group but all this one on one time... what could possibly go wrong? Or maybe right?

Author's Note: I love a sweet and slightly shy, soft Bucky! The details of the mission are not really important here so I just have them flying from some lovely hidden away location to NYC for some sneakin' around to get info. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: shy and sweet Bucky, awkwardness from both characters haha, but lots of fun, flirting, tension, fluff, implied smut

You’re alone in the elevator, having just left your meeting with Sam, when Bucky steps inside just as the doors are closing.

Your eyes meet and your breath catches in your throat, the weighted silence becoming awkward.

You open your mouth to say something but then stop, blinking away the words before leaning heavily against the wall.

The damn elevator is moving so slowly.

Finally, the doors open and Bucky gestures for you to go first. Instead, you nearly shout at him, “looks like we’re going on a mission together.”

“Yeah,” he says with a small smile.

“I’m excited, I’ve never been to the city before.”

He rubs the back of his neck and shuffles his feet. “It’s definitely somethin’.”

“Should I meet you at the Quinjet tomorrow morning? Or do we need to talk about anything before then?”

“I think that’s fine,” he answers, still holding the doors of the elevator open.

It starts to ding, and you register the sound with a nervous giggle and step out.

“It’s fine if we just meet at the Quinjet or before?” You ask for clarification.

“Um,” he starts. “It should be…”

“I don’t mind…” you begin at the same time.

“Sorry,” you whisper, “I interrupted. Go ahead.”

“We can just meet at the Quinjet,” he says as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets and starts to walk down the hallway.

“That sounds good,” you tell him. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, see you in the mornin’.”

He smiles, his gaze lingering before he turns around the next corner.

“Great,” you mutter to yourself. “Now he really thinks you’re a bumbling idiot.”

Your feet shuffle along the ramp onto the Quinjet and you squint against the early morning sun that’s just starting to rise above the top of the mountains in the distance.

Fumbling with your bag you head toward the seats, finding Bucky already inside and waiting. He stands and reaches for your bag.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” you answer back, staring.

He secures your bag and sits back down. You glance around at all the empty seats and then sit right down next to him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. “I’m a nervous flyer.”

With a smile he says, “no doll. That’s fine.”

You watch him wipe the palms of his hands on his pants.

The door to the Quinjet closes and you shift in your seat, toying with the seatbelt and growing more frustrated with every passing second.

The engines ignite and you make a squeaking sound, finally deciding to just try and tie the seatbelt rope in a knot.

Bucky places his hand over yours. “Let me help?”

You nod and try to slow your breathing as his hands work smoothly to undo your mess and clip the belt then tighten it.

“There. Comfortable?”

“Yeah, perfect. Thanks.”

You feel the jet start to move, and you clasp your hands together in your lap. You can feel his eyes on you but for fear of further embarrassment you keep your face forward and try not to sweat too much.

“What did you bring for lunch?” he asks.

“What?”

“Lunch. What did you bring for the ride?”

“Were we supposed to bring lunch?” you ask wide eyed.

He laughs. “It’s not a long ride but I’m always hungry so I brought peanut butter and jelly and a bagel. Plenty to share.”

“That’s good,” you say with a smile. “And thanks. It’s a good thing one of us is prepared.”

“When it comes to food yeah, otherwise, I’m leaving that up to you.”

You smile. “Don’t worry. As far as the mission goes I know exactly what we need to do.”

“Good. And I’ll show you all the best places to eat.”

With a laugh you let out an exhale and realize you’re already up in the air and cruising. You give him a thankful look and smile.

He winks and then settles back in his seat.

Eventually, after some light conversation, you drift off to sleep, slowly slanting toward Bucky until your head is resting on his shoulder.

His movements are soft and easy as he drops lower, so your neck isn’t so stretched out and he leans back to close his eyes.

You wake to the jerking of the jet and the feeling of weightlessness in your stomach as you start to make your descent. You’re awkwardly twisted in your seat but somehow so comfortable. The body next to you is warm and firm and smells so good.

With a jolt you straighten and disentangle yourself from around Bucky’s metal arm. You then notice your leg is hitched over his thigh.

Trying not to wake him you remove the rest of your limbs from his body and rub a hand over your face. He’s still quietly breathing, eyes closed and long lashes fluttering when you start to study every feature of his face up close.

His hair is mussed at the back, and the front, normally pulled upward, now falls over his forehead, shiny and soft. His sharp jaw is covered in a dark shadow, highlighted every now and then by patches of gray that travel down his strong neck.

And there, on his shoulder, is a wet patch of drool covering his leather jacket.

You anxiously wipe at your face and search for something to wipe it off with. Your panicky movements jostle him enough that his eyes flash open only to find your face inches from his.

You smile with a whispered, “hi.”   

He blinks a few times before his blue eyes widen, his gaze moving from yours to the spot on his shoulder where you had been wiping.

“I’m sorry about that,” you mumble. “Apparently you’re very comfortable.”

He grins. “Good to know.”

“I guess I dozed off too. Sorry about that doll. I was trying to stay awake and keep you company in case the trip got bumpy.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t be sorry. You looked adora…”

You stop yourself, snapping your mouth shut and then looking down at your seatbelt.

“Think you can help me out of this I need to stretch.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea…” he starts as the jet hits another patch of turbulence.

You ignore his warning and start to work on your seatbelt, opening it with minimal effort and trying to stand. The moment you do your body is thrown off balance and you nearly fall into his lap.

He wraps a strong arm around your waist and holds you close to his chest.

“I got you,” he says with a mischievous smile.

“I shouldn’t have gotten up,” you sigh. “I’m…”

“Nah, don’t worry. I get it. I never liked flying much myself. I’ve just done it so much now I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

The sincerity in his words and tone make you melt against him and instead of moving back to your seat you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re a comfier seatbelt anyway,” you say quietly.

You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep your own on the wall across, afraid of what he’ll see written all over your face.

Once you’re out of the jet and into the fresh air you breathe deeply, taking in all the sights and sounds of the city. Bucky leads you to a small hotel on the upper west side of Manhattan, opening and holding the door for you.

The clerk greets you warmly and asks for your names.

“Separate rooms?” he asks with a questioning look.

You clear your throat and rush out with, “we’re here for business.”

The clerk nods and hands you your keys. You follow Bucky to the elevator, wincing inwardly when you remember your last encounter in one of these machines.

But this time the silence is more comfortable and when you exit Bucky points down the hallway.

“I’m right down here.”

“Looks like I’m next door,” you say. “I’m gonna freshen up.”

“Ok,” he says and watches until you unlock your door and get safely inside.

You fall against it and drop your head along the hard wood, groaning. You’d been on this mission for less than half a day and you’d already drooled on him, practically groped him, and threw yourself in his lap.

“Fucking hell,” you grumble and shuffle toward the bed, falling headfirst onto the pillows.

When you awake with a stretch you realize it’s only been an hour, but your stomach grumbles and you contemplate your food choices.

Before falling asleep you had managed to discard your clothes and don the soft hotel robe hanging in the closet. Now, as you tighten the knot at your waist you peer out into the hallway and hope there are vending machines near the ice machine.

It’s eerily quiet. Not even the sound of a television coming from a nearby room.

You head down the hallway.

“Doll?”

You let out a squeal of surprise in the quiet, the shrill sound echoing off the walls.

You turn and say, far too brightly and loudly, “HI!”

“What are you up to? I was just grabbing something to eat. Didn’t bring any snacks, remember?”

“Snacks?” he repeats, looking around the hallway before his eyes linger on your robe.

“From the vending machine,” you chirp as you lean casually against the wall. “Hungry?”

“What were you gonna get? Doritos?”

A pop of color stains his cheeks and a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe an energy bar?” you muse.

“What about half a peanut butter and jelly?” he offers.

“What no bagel left?”

He dips his head and rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

“Might have eaten that when you feel asleep on the jet.”

Your head falls back with a trill of laughter, and it makes his stomach flip.

“I’d love some pb and j. Thanks.”

“Come on,” he says and steps backward toward his room.

After you stuff the half a sandwich in your mouth, Bucky eyes you suspiciously.

“That definitely wasn’t enough to eat. We have to get you more food. And me too.”

He rubs his belly and stretches, the motion lifting the hem of his henley and exposing the waistband of his boxers and the dark trail of hair that disappears beneath.

“Food…right?” you whisper.

“Are you still hungry?” he asks, oblivious to your ogling.

“Starved,” you say with a harsh swallow.

After excusing yourself back to your room you to change you emerge ready to eat. The air is cooler now and you close your eyes, grateful for the refreshing feeling on your skin.

You take in as much of the city as you can while Bucky leads you with confidence down the street. You reach the corner and wait for the signal to walk. When the light changes, the crowd moves and you feel the press of his palm on the small of your back, urging you forward.

The sensation sends a shiver down your spine and when you reach the other side of the street he stops and gives you a concerned look.

“Are you cold?” he asks and starts to shrug off his jacket.

You’re anything but, however, there is no way you would ever turn down his jacket.

“A little. Guess I wasn’t expecting it to cool off so much.”

“Here,” he says and drapes his jacket over your shoulders. “Better?”

“Much,” you say, snuggling into his warmth and smell. “But won’t you be cold?”

“Nah, I’m like a walking heater,” he promises with a smile.

You continue down the sidewalk, now truly oblivious to all else other than the occasional brush of his shoulder and the feel of his jacket wrapped around you.

His voices pulls you from your trance and you finally register what he’s saying as you look up and see the iconic edifice of the American Museum of Natural History.

“Oh my god,” you say and stop dead in your tracks.

“Pretty cool right.”

You rush toward it, grabbing for your phone.

“Will you take a picture of me?”

You’re still trying to find your phone when you ask him and he laughs, pulling out his own.

“I’ve got mine. I’ll take it and send it to you.”

A sea of tourists rush by before he’s able to open the app and snap a picture but after he does the expression on his face is a little…charmed.

“Got it,” he says, turning the phone to show you. “Came great.”

You squeal in happiness. “Ok, now you come here.”

He stands next to you, and you take his phone. “Let’s get one together.”

“But…” he starts. “Your arms aren’t long enough!”

“Nah, I’ve got this! Just bend down a little and I’ll just…”

You start to maneuver closer to him, your heads almost touching.

“I’m being such a tourist right now,” he grumbles playfully.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone, “You giggle.

He takes the phone from your hand with a smile and holds your gaze for a fraction of a second, clearing his throat.

“Holding you to that doll.”

It takes a few tries to get the angle right but when you do he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight, snapping the pic.

He looks at the photo then turns the screen so you can see it. It’s a great picture. You’re both smiling and cozy.

“What’s your number?” he asks.

You recite it and watch as he types. In your pocket your phone buzzes and you chime, “ah there it is!”

You try not to smile too widely at the photo or the fact that Bucky seems to be smiling just as much as he looks at it one more time.

The smell of something good starts to fill your senses as you continue walking down 81st street and when you reach another corner, Bucky stops at the hot dog stand there.

“Always go to the one with the longest line,” he says.

You try to wait patiently but he notices your hopping feet and wiggly fingers.

“Don’t worry doll, it’ll be worth it. I promise.”

Once you have your hot dog in hand you pull him away from the cart and onto a bench under the shade of trees.

You moan around the first bite. “Bucky…oh my god.”

Thankfully, you’re so engrossed in the joy of your street dog that you don’t notice the way he’s staring at your lips, his own parted with his sharp inhale. Your tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth and he nearly chokes.

“You ok,” you ask, forgetting about the food.

He nods and holds up his hand, motioning for the bottle of water you bought. You open it and hand it over, watching him take a long drink and focus on the way the muscles in his neck shift with each swallow.

“Yeah, all good,” he sighs, next stealing the napkin from between your fingers.

“So, you like it huh?”

“Yeah,” you say with grin. “Think I need another.”

On the way back to the hotel you discuss the mission and go over your plan for the next few days. You’re mostly there to collect information and be covert so other than being in the right places and the right times you’ll be free to explore.

You point out every landmark, asking questions and hanging on his every word. When you reach the door of the hotel he holds it open for you once more and you realize he’s been quiet the last few blocks as you’ve rambled on.

“Shit,” you mutter. “You must think I’m so weird.”

He smiles and follows you in.

“Weird, yes but weird is good. I like your energy, and I think you’re pretty amazing.”

Before you can respond, the elevator dings and a crowd of people file out. He walks you to your door and you shrug his jacket from your shoulders, hanging over his and waiting until his arms are through before you smooth the leather down his chest and fix the collar.

He sucks in a breath, and you wait, worrying you’ve crossed a line.

“Thanks for getting me dinner,” you whisper.

“Anytime doll face.” A small smile tilts his lips upward as his eyes search yours.

Your hands still linger at his collar, and he takes your wrists, securing your hands around his neck.

This time you gasp and the faint scent of him hangs in the air, leather, and warm spice. You lean in slowly, and he does too, making the space between you disappear. His nose brushes the edge of yours and you can feel his breath across your lips.

“Are you going to kiss me Bucky?”

His chest is pressed against yours and you feel his heavy breathing. He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,” he murmurs.

“I wouldn’t want you to…I’ve thought about this. A lot.”

Your confession makes his brows hit his hairline.

You continue. “I always thought this would just be a crush. But now, spending time with you, I feel like I’m going a bit crazy…in a good way.”

When you look up and meet his wide eyes you groan. “And I’ve said too much and totally freaked you out.”

Your head drops but his fingers catch your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his soft expression.

“No doll, you haven’t. I’m just not used to any of it.”

“I can’t believe that” you smile. “You must have girls falling all over you.”

He shakes his head with a huff of a laugh. “Not really and uh…well, it’s been a while…since I’ve done this.”

He steps back and gives you a sheepish look. “So, if you’re really interested, you’ll have to be patient with me. I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”  

His admission is endearing, and you give him a reassuring smile before leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“You’re worth the wait Bucky.”

You turn and with one last smile, close your door softly and once again collapse on the bed.

The next day you meet Bucky in the hallway, ready to tackle the day and get things done. The brightly shining sun brings plenty of warmth and you notice Bucky rolling up his sleeves as you walk toward your destination.

While you’re admiring his forearms, both metal and flesh, you nearly run into the crowd in front of you. He grabs your arm and pulls you back just in time, against his chest, and you exhale before sharply inhaling the same breath at the feel of him so close.

“You ok?” he asks softly against the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Sorry. Was just lost in thought.”

He nods in understanding and steers you safely through the crowd. He stays close, his arm hanging at his side and his knuckles occasionally brushing yours. You assume it’s accidental and try not to react as goosebumps spread along your skin. But by the third and fourth time, you begin to wonder.

His pinky extends and caresses yours, and every nerve in your body seems to ignite, beginning at where you skin touches and stopping at your toes. You sway on your feet and your stomach erupts in butterflies.

The more time you spend near each other, the more he seems to unwind, and his wordless flirtation slowly builds throughout the day.

You want to scream at him that he knows exactly what he’s doing but instead you go with it and make sure he knows you’re receptive.

When you’re on the subway back to the hotel, the train rocks back and forth as you move through a darkened tunnel. Your body sways into him and he grabs your hip, holding your back to his chest.

You can feel the flex of his fingers against your skin and the warmth of them through your shirt. By the time the train reaches the station you’re breathing rapidly and walking unsteadily as he guides your toward the train doors and steps behind you.

His large hand remains at your waist, and he presses into you, allowing you to feel him, every inch.

Back at the hotel, your skin is burning and your body aches and you’re sure you can see the same desperation reflected in his eyes.

But instead of making a move he simply takes your hand and lifts it to his lips, watching you over your knuckles and kissing each of them.

He looks like he wants to say something and even inches forward before letting out a nervous exhale and waiting for you to go inside.

It’s torture to feel this way, knowing you’re not dreaming that he wants you but also knowing he’s scared. And besides that, the entire day of quiet foreplay left you needy.

You opt for a relaxing bath which doesn’t relax you at all and when you spread your warm body out on the bed the urge to slip your hand between your legs is too great. Your mind immediately fills with thoughts of how his calloused fingers would feel on your skin, so sensitive and wet.

You know he’s only on the other side of the wall and you think you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice faint but it’s enough for you to pretend.

The swift movement of your fingers along with your wild imagination is enough to send you over the edge with a cry of his name.

It’s only when your breathing evens out that you notice how quiet it seems, and you realize that you might have been too loud.

A knock at your door makes you yelp in surprise, and you hear Bucky’s voice on the other side.

“It’s just me doll.”

On shaky legs you walk to the door and open it only enough to peek out at him. You don’t say anything, and he asks, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?” you answer, still quite breathless.

“It’s just…I heard…I thought? Did you call my name?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open.

He taps his ear with a sideways smile. “Super soldier hearing.”

“Well. No. I mean, yes? Maybe. I think I was dreaming?”

He waits for you to finish and then gently pushes on the door.

“Are you gonna let me in?” he asks.

You hold his stare, your heart hammering against your rib cage.

“Are you going to kiss me this time?”

Something in his eyes answers your question and you let go of the door, allowing him to slip inside and shut it.

You lean against it, his hand still pressed to the wood above your head as the other joins it, effectively caging you in.

He tilts his head, wearing a smile that gently pulls at his lips.

“What were you really doing in here?” he asks.

Your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and every coherent thought leaves your head. You stare and let your tongue trace the outline of your mouth.

“Answer me,” he demands quietly.

“I was thinking of you.”

He bends to kiss your neck softly, his lips tracing the column of your throat before meeting just below your ear to whisper, “that’s it?”

“And touching myself.”

He inhales sharply through his nose, exhaling your name and dropping his hands to take your face between them. He drags his nose along your jaw and then his lips hover just above yours.

He stills and as much as you know he wants this you know his insecurities are hard to overcome.

You slide your hands up his chest, feeling the strong muscles flex beneath your fingers, and curl your hands around the back of his neck.

“I came with your name on my lips,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on his.

It’s all he needs, and he lets a low growl rumble through his chest before he closes the distance and kisses you. Your lips slide over his and you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, making him groan.

Your fingers dig into his hair as his hands slide along the curve of your waist to your back, clutching and bringing you impossibly close.

The kiss grows deeper, and you let out tiny little gasps as he tastes you, barely registering what you’re saying before, “please, Bucky, escapes.

“Please what?” he says, his lips sliding to your ear, softly kissing the skin beneath. “Anything.”

“Just…kiss me.”

He smiles against your lips. “Pretty sure that’s exactly what I was doing doll face.”

“Touch me,” you beg, taking his metal hand and sliding it down between your breasts.

“You can’t be real,” he breathes out.

You kiss his neck, lifting your lips to his earlobe and nibbling it before whispering, “I am and I’m all yours.”

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

wishful thinking

-warnings// angst, mentions of smut but no real descriptions

lil summery// Sam has a little crush on deans girlfriend a just little sad

Dean x reader... with a little Sam x reader (just a lil bit)

word count// 3450

(Gif from pinterest)

You groaned as the light came through the window blinds, rolling over to hide in your boyfriends warm chest, Dean chuckled running his hand up and down your bare back "not ready to wake up gorgeous?" He asked kissing the top of your head "no. My plans revolve around staying in bed with my pretty sexy, and very nude boyfriend" you mumbled against his chest, dragging your hand down his chest and down his stomach

You jumped back when you heard a loud knock on the door "are you two almost ready? There was another attack last night" Sam called through the door, "Just taking a shower then we'll be out Sammy" Dean yelled back, you looked up at him confused "baby we showered last night" Dean chuckled, rolling on top of you, he smirked down at you, his amulet hanging down his neck "yeah but I just bought us some more time" Dean flirted as he pressed kisses down your neck, already making your eyes roll.

Sam leaned against the impala, growing more and more impatient as the time moved on, with a final sigh of annoyance he went back to Dean and your shared motel room, "Dean I've been waiting almost an hour dude serio-" Sam started to yell but was quickly cut off by the door opening revealing you dressed only in deans long red flannel, your cheeks red and your hair a mess "I'm sorry Sammy, we'll be right out in two minutes, I swear" you told him quickly shutting the door in the stunned Winchesters face 

Sam was in awe of you, ever since you and Dean came to get him from Stanford four years ago he knew there was something about you that just warmed his heart, how kind you were to him and when Jess passed, you let him cry in your arms many nights after, how beautiful you were, how smart you were, you were like a walking encyclopaedia. He knew how wrong it was, having a crush on Deans girlfriend. he just couldn't help himself 

Every day was an internal battle for Sam, he wanted you, he wanted you more than he's ever wanted anything, but he sees how much his brother loves you, and that's what kills him even more, he would never want to hurt his brother. He just couldn't help himself, especially when he heard your moans through every crappy motel walls, hell he's even walked in on you both going at it  more times than he'd ever like to admit, you would think after the eitgth time Dean would learn to lock his damn door.

It definitely didn't help Sam keep himself composed when he was popping boners left and right with the images of you after being fucked, even if wasn't by him flash through his mind constantly.

"Alright, give us the run down Sammy" dean said as he drove away from the red room motel Sam stayed quiet as he tried to avoid looking at you sitting in the back seat "Sammy!" Dean called loudly snapping his fingers in his face startling the seasoned hunter "w-what?" He stuttered out confused "gives us the run down... are you feeling good, not like you to be so out of it man" dean turned to look at him quickly worry evident in his voice 

"Yeah fine just tired. didn't sleep great"  Sam mumbled out tucking his growing hair behind his ears "you sure sweetie? you look a little pale, maybe your coming down with something. c'mere let me check your temperature" you said leaning into the front to feel his forehead "w-what no no I'm fine not sick I'm just tired so just drop it and leave me the hell alone!" Sam said flinching away defensively, if you touched him right now he was definitely gonna go crazy 

Dean turned to give Sam a hard look "watch it Sam, she was only trying to help you, no need to bite her damn head off!" Sam snorted "whatever" he pushed himself as close to the passenger side ignoring his brother for the rest of the ride his eyes stared hard out at the road as he tried to focus on the hunt... and not how good your breasts look in that shirt .

Dean looked at Sam then gave you a concerned look matching your own in the rear view mirror. 

When you got to the Swanson house you both  decided to let Sam take the lead in questioning considering he didn't give you any details on the death, what he suspected, could be demon, ghost... literally anything at this point.

"Any idea what's up with Sam?" You asked Dean watching as Sam spoke to the victims heartbroken husband, Dean sighed his eyes narrowed at his little brother trying to figure out what's going on in his head "not a clue but I'll talk to him about it" dean grumbled out squinting his eyes at his younger brother.

It was a quiet drive back to the motel , Sam was laser focused on watching the blurs of houses and cars, you couldn't help yourself but looking at him worried, you were sure he could feel your eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. Even if he did feel it he never let on, never acknowledged you or dean were in the car too.

Once Dean parked baby Sam was rushing out toward his motel room. Dean slammed the car door annoyed before turning to look at you his hard eyes softening "I'm gonna talk to Sammy see if I can get him to talk about wheatever the hells bothering him" dean told you before planting a soft kiss on your lips "okay baby, I'm gonna take a walk and go grab us some snacks and beer, hopefully Sammy opens up to you" you wrapped your arms around deans neck, his own on your hips as he had you pinned tight against the impala

Dean shook his head pulling baby's keys out of his pocket "your not walking anywhere sweetheart, I trust you'll take care of my baby, and my baby will take care of my sweetheart" dean joked making you giggle, your cheeks heating up as you licked your lips "you Dean Winchester are a man of many surprises... and I quite like that about you" dean caught your lips once again in a soft kiss his tongue slipping into wrestle with your own before giving your ass a hard smack. You gasped and pulled away your body feeling hot at his actions 

You put your hands on deans chest lightly pushing him away from you "alright I better go, good luck talking to Sam" dean shook his head his green eyes turned to look at Sam's closed motel room door sighing "yeah I'm gonna need it". 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Your nerves were all over the place as you walked around the small corner store. You hated when Sam and Dean would fight, on one hand, Dean is your boyfriend you can't help but take his side most of the time, but Sam was your best friend. It just put you in such a shitty position until the boys eventually swept it under the rug. You grabbed a bunch of snacks because you knew Dean was an angry eater and he usually stuffed his face with liquorice and chocolate after any arguments, or if you were having make up sex and dean was still a little mad he'd eat something else...

You opened the door to your motel room so see Dean pacing the floor his hands running through his hair, clearly he was frustrated and seemed pretty anxious "how'd it go sweetie?" You asked him setting the bag of goods and beer on the table "I- uh- fi-fine yeah I guess" dean stuttered out as his pacing continued "dean what's wrong? Is it bad- oh my god please sit down your freaking me out!" You snapped grabbing deans arms stopping him from moving any further "it's nothing I just... look you know how much I care about you. Id do anything for you no matter what it was, I just when you talk to Sam please remember that" dean told you his hands coming to rest on the sides of your face his worried eyes staring into your own

"Wha- talk to Sam? Dean what's going on why do I need to talk to Sam?" You were freaking out why the hell was Dean Winchester, the man who hides what he feels on the daily pouring his heart out to you now of all times. Dean leaned in catching your lips in a slow sensual kiss, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own "I promise everything will make sense if you talk to Sam" Dean whispered "okay let's go" dean shook his head immediately "I don't think I should be around Sammy right now I'll wait for you here" okay now you were officially freaking the fuck out

You nodded slowly and headed out to towards Sam's motel room next door. You stared at the red door taking a couple of deep worried breaths before knocking. It took three seconds after the last knock until the younger Winchester was opening the door his cheek looking slightly swollen "hey... come on in" Sam said moving to the side to allow you in "hey... so what's going on? Dean seemed pretty upset" you told him, Sam sighed and ran his hands down his face his eyes closed tight "it's stupid. It's so stupid I just don't know what to do anymore I've been... fuck this is hard-" "Sam! Spit it out please!" You yelled cutting off his rambling 

"....Y/N, I think I'm in love with you" once the words left Sam's lips your whole body froze. You felt like the air was sucked right out of you. "You what?" You asked "I think I'm in love with you... it started a couple of years ag-" "Years! what the fuck do you mean years Sam? How many?" You cut him off "i- I lost Jess and then you... you were there for me and it just kinda escalated from there. Look I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to be in love with my brothers girlfriend, I've felt like the worst person in the damn world every day because of this... I just I can't help it" Sam confessed

"Sam Jess passed four years ago. Are you telling me you've had feelings for me since then?" You asked him calmly and he nodded quickly "honey I don't think your in love with me. I think you went through an extremely traumatic experience with Jess and me being there for you every day. I think your confusing the feelings you had for jess to me. Sam, I love you because your my best friend... and I'm with dean and I haven't even told him yet but I love him Sammy..." you told him and Sam took a deep breath "I uh i guess I never thought about it like that. I think your right I'm confusing my feelings I had for Jess to you" Sam agreed making you relax 

"I'm sorry I sprung all this on you and Dean today. When you put it like that it makes sense... I mean Jess was the love of my life… I even had a ring. Before you and Dean came to Stanford I had it all planned out, then it was taken away from me in the blink of an eye... and dean still has you-" Sam paused taking a shaky breath "I guess I'm just jealous of you guys, of what you have with each other. I've never seen Dean love someone so much and that's why me feeling like this bothered me so much because I want my brother to be happy and I want my best friend to be happy too" Sam ended his speech and you had tears falling down your cheeks feeling your heart break at his words

"Sammy I'm so sorry about what happened with Jess. You deserved to have the happy life you always wanted with her" Sam nodded his eyes filling with tears he sucked in a harsh breath of air "yeah.... I miss her every day. I just... I want what I had with her back- I want Jess back, I see you and Dean and I want that. Jesus I fucking had that. Life deals me the crappy hand of yellow eyes and Jess has to pay for it?" Your cheeks were wet with tears, you couldn't help but bawl at Sam's words. Life had been so cruel to the Winchesters 

"I know honey... I know. It's not fair, I know you feel like Jess was the one for you but sam, I only met her once and I seen how much she loved you. She would want you to get out there and find the girl your meant to spend your life with, it's not me, but she's out there... she's just waiting for you to find her" you smiled taking his big hand in yours and giving it a comforting squeeze. Sam nodded slowly 

"I really i appreciate that Y/N, I'm glad this crap got brought out. Talking to you has really made me feel a lot better about this so thanks, I uh do you mind giving me some time just to think. I kinda want to be by myself now" Sam told you and you nodded heading towards the door, Turing to take one last look at the sad giant "we're right next door if you need anything at all, okay Sammy?" His lips curled in a soft smile and he gave you a quick nod.

Once the door was a shut you leaned against it your hand going to your chest as you took a deep breath, hunting gouls was easier than that damn conversation. Your heart was beating like crazy thinking back on every word, Sam thought he was in love you, I mean of course he wasn't. He was in love with the idea of you... of love that's what he wanted.

You squeezed your eyes shut to calm down before going back to your and Deans room. You opened the door to find Dean sat at the edge of the double bed, his head facing the ground as his hands ran through his hair “Dean?” You called to him. His head snapped towards you his feet moving faster than the rest of his body as he stunned his way toward you “Y/N…. H-how’d it go? Did you-” “talk to Sam… yeah we had a long talk. I think everything’s gonna be just fine now” you told him 

Deans shoulders visibly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug “thank god… thought I was gonna have to kick his ass” dean joked but you thought back to Sam’s swollen cheek. You pulled back from the hug and gave dean a hard look “Dean Winchester… did you punch your brother because of me?” 

Dean shook his head quickly “no of course not… I punched him because he told me he wanted to be with my girlfriend, maybe had he phrased it better to me I wouldn’t have lost my temper but if someone tells me they want to be with my girlfriend and they’re in love with her… I’m gonna loose my shit” you tried to hide the small smirk from your face by leaning in to give dean a hard kiss on his soft lips “that’s really sweet baby. Please don’t fight with Sam because of me, seriously we had a really good conversation tonight” 

Dean noodles slowly “can you tell me what you talked about?” You smiled and sat down on the bed and pulling Dean with you so you were both laying down on the hard mattress “well he told me he was in love with me-” deans arm around your waist grew tense as he pulled you closer so your head was resting against his chest  “but we talked about things and we got to talking about Jess and-” you paused taking a deep breath and looking up at dean to find him already looking at you 

“Sam is still hurting over Jess. He was confusing his love for Jess to love for me, thats all, he’s not In love me. He’s in love with the idea of love because he had that, then he lost it in the blink of an eye and then he sees us together. He just needs some time and he needs us to help him get back out there find a distraction, hey maybe even find the love of his life like m-” you stopped yourself quickly, Dean opened his mouth to say something but you quickly jumped back in

“We should take him out tomorrow, there’s a bar down the block. I saw it when we were driving earlier, it looks like it could be fun, what do ya say?” Deans eyes crinkled as he smiled lovingly at you. He loved how much you looked out for Sammy, it’s part of what made him fall in love with you. “I’m down, any time I get to spend with you I am down for it” dean told you taking your hand in his placing a soft kiss to it “how about we crack open those beers over there eat some junk food and watch a little Dr sexy?” Dean suggested. You smiled and nodded your head “i love that idea” you leaned up to give him a quick kiss before he grabbed the goods.

You were hours into the doctor sexy marathon you and dean had unintentionally started. Deans arm hung loosely around your waist while you cuddled comfortably into his warm side, your leg wrapped loosely around deans hips. You looked up to see deans green eyes lolling to sleep slowly, still somewhat awake “dean?” You whispered, his eyes opened quickly and he let out a low “yeah?” And turned his gaze to you “why were you so nervous earlier? Before I went to Sam’s room?” He sighed his body tensing slightly under you “I just… I hated the idea of you talking to Sam about his little crush on you because well, your my girl… and I love you” dean rushed out the end and your head snapped up 

“You what?” You asked your chest suddenly feeling tighter like your heart was about to explode “i love you sweetheart” dean told you more clearly this time. A smile immediately overcame your face as you rushed down to press a hard kiss on deans lips. Dean responded right away, his hands wrapping around your hips to pull you on top of him… well more than you already were

You pulled back slightly from the kiss pressing your forehead against his “I love you too Dean Winchester, so fucking much baby” you giggled your lips brushing against his in each movement. Dean pulled you back into another deep kiss his big rough hands squeezed your ass before moving up your waist to pull your shirt off leaving you in your black lacy bra. Your squealed into deans mouth when he ripped your bra in half, pulling the ruined fabric off off your arms baring your breasts to him. Deans lips detached from your swollen ones, he attacked you chest immediately placing kissing app over your chest, sucking love marks all over you, especially on your sweet spot to mark his territory.

Sam who was in the next room slammed a pillow over his head to drown out your screams of pleasure, Sam lied to you earlier, he meant it when he said he was in love with you. But when he saw your panic and how you talked about your one for his brother he panicked and wanted to take each word back, that’s why when you mentioned it being confusion over his love for Jess he jumped at it. He would never do anything to hurt you or dean he loved you both way to much to ever even  think about doing that to either of you, that’s why he was just going to have to swallow his feelings and curse chuck for not having you both meet first. He wished every damn night that he met you before dean, constantly living in guilt Sam knew he had to take his feelings for you and bury them deep inside of him, a life with you was just wishful thinking for the younger Winchester. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

next to be written is Sam Winchester, hero part 2, this was requested and I'm hoping to get it published soon, until then please enjoy :))

[zepskies]

Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like

Dean: Hey baby

Reader: She's busy

I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭

Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850

Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.

Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.

They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.

Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.

Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?

A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.

Yeah, just getting a few things.

Dean rolled his eyes. Right.

For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?

Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.

Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.

Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.

He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.

But...you didn't answer when he called.

Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.

Hey, baby. You up?

He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...

She's busy.

Dean frowned. What the hell?

Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?

But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.

Stop messing around.

Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."

She'll call you back, dude.

Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.

What the fuck is this?

She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.

All right. WHO is this?

Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.

A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.

Then he responded.

Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.

Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.

"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.

"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.

"You make it too easy," you replied.

He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.

"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"

"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.

"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.

That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"

For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.

In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.

Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)

Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.

"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.

"When are you getting home?" you asked.

He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.

"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."

"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."

He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.

"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.

Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.

He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?

...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.

"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."

"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.

"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."

And she's about to get punished.

The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420