#and if I was separated by the sunshine that is Sam i too would be very mad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lunajay33 · 2 months ago

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It Got Me

•🍂🪵🌲🩸•

Summary: You’re the middle child and always had everyone’s problems on your shoulders, when your out on a hunt with Sam and Dean you hurt really bad but try not to bother them with it until it’s too unbearable

Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister, Sam Winchester x sister

•Masterlist•

“People are going missing in these woods, dads got it down in his book” Dean says pointing at a map

“Well what if it’s just bears or something?” I ask

“No it’s too suspicious for it to be bears all this time, let’s head out” I didn’t wanna argue so I agree and make up my weapons and clothes in a single duffle bag and we all file into the impala heading towards our next mission

Sam and Dean sat up front while I sat in the back, it’s always been the three of us but when Sammy left I felt the extra pressure from dad to pull my weight and never make a mistake, being the middle child is really hard sometimes, I never wanna disappoint any of them

“Hey you alright” Sam asks as he turns back looking at me

“Oh yeah I’m fine just…..just tired”

“I know we’ve been working a lot of cases and with dad gone it’s harder but we’ve got this, and after I’ll get you your favorite food” Dean chimes in always being the protective older brother, but I know how much he has to deal with from our father always blaming him for everything so I try my best to keep my feelings and problems to myself to hopefully ease him

“Thanks Dean” I smile patting his shoulder in front of me

•

We get to the town and do some recon to get more information leading us to the sister of a missing person

“We’re heading out tomorrow to look for him” she says

“Woah woah you can’t go out there, we’ve got this” Sam states

“I’m going you can’t stop me” she insists and they back down, I guess we’ll just have to watch their backs as we scour the woods for whatever this creature is

•

The next morning we head out to the woods meeting up with the sister and brother of the missing person and their “expert” it made me laugh thinking that they thought this was as easy as they thought it would be

I take my guns and put it in the back of my pants, a machete on my waist and a packed my back with a lighter and some snacks cause this mission could take an unexpected turn

“You ready to go sis?” Sam asks as he pats my shoulder

“Yup, ready to go” we hike out further into the forest hearing the expert groan every five seconds only making Dean angry

In the middle of another argument we hear a scream and everyone goes running, doing some critical thinking I realize this is a wendigo

“Dean our weapons aren’t gonna work, it’s a wendigo” I whisper to him

“What no way they aren’t in this area”

“Well what else could it be, just trust me Dean”

“Fine, you’ve never been wrong before” out of the three of us I did the most research on creatures whenever we had downtime so they could trust me on this type of expertise

After a long night we finally found its lair, in an old mine deep in the woods, the trees so thick it was hard to see, it was so dark in the mines wandering through the tunnels it’s started to scare me, I gripped deans jacket as he led the way

“Dean I’m scared”

“We’re almost done sunshine”

Finally we got to a bend and found the only survivor left, their brother, as we’re making our way out the wendigo separates us, cutting me off alone from the rest of the group, I run hearing it behind me terror raking my body when I finally feeling its claws gash through my stomach, falling to the ground trying to put pressure to stop the bleeding when the wendigo catches a blaze behind me

“Hey ya alright?” Dean asks as he comes to my side helping me stand, I turn away hiding the pain

“Yup” I groan and try my best to walk normal

“You sure?” I nod and we meet up with the others as we walk back through the forest, I follow at the back of the group taking breaks weakly leaning against trees

“Come on slow poke!” Sam calls out playfully, I feel hot and sweaty but also so cold , my shirt soaked hidden by my jacket, I try to keep up as we finally make it to the cars but it’s too much, as they load up the trunk with the weapons I fall hitting the ground but pain through my stomach over powers it as I lay there feeling more blood flow out around me

“Y/n hey what happened?” Sam asks frantic as they both kneel next to me checking me over they open my jacket and gasp seeing the blood and three big gashes

“I’m so cold” I sigh my eyes not being able to focus, they’re quick Dean starting the car and Sam with me in the back putting pressure driving quick to the hospital

“Daddy! You came back” I weakly smile as I look at the drivers seat

“She’s lost too much she’s hallucinating” Sam panics

“Hold on kid we’re almost there”

“I’m sorry daddy I tried to be the best”

“Shhhh just relax sis” Sam says wiping the sweat off my face

“I’m so tired”

“No you stay awake kid you hear me!” Dean shouts and I try so hard but the darkness over takes me

•

I wake to beeping, I gasp looking around the dimly lit room seeing Sam and Dean on either side of my bed

“Dean? Sam?” They’re up instantly coming up to my side

“Finally you’re awake” Sam sighs gripping my hand

“You had us worried kid you’ve been out for a week”

“Dad didn’t come back did he?” I remember the hallucinations

“No sweetheart it was just me, you lost a lot of blood”

“I tried to be strong like you guys, I’m sorry”

“Hey you’re just as strong as us, things happen to us all and we’re here to help eachother, we love you Angel, now you better tell us next time something happens cause if you die on us I’ll kill you myself” Dean says making us laugh

“I love you guys” I smile

“We love you more” sam responds and the rest of the night they stay by my side telling me stories about their favorite memories of me making me feel special and at that moment I did feel special to them

#supernatural imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural one shot #supernatural #castiel fluff #castiel x y/n

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fluffysucker · 2 years ago

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Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

In no world were you meant to be together, but in every universe, you were meant for each other.

A/N: I present you grumpy sunshine wrapped in enemies(ish) to lovers with Beefy Boxer/Biker Bucky.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated.

Also, I tried to be as inclusive as possible. But my delusion couldn't be controlled I'm sorry.

Ngl this is for me more than anything.

Also, I'm thinking about making this its own universe and maybe write more of it. Tell me what you think

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You hated Bucky Barnes, and he hated you.

The two of you should have never crossed paths. Your worlds should have never met. But the wall separating you could only hold for so long.

The infamous boxer was a phenomenon in his field. Unbeatable and astute, Bucky Barnes held his reputation with pride. He was stronger than all and the smartest the game had. His jab was as numbing as the winter. His techniques were as calculated as a soldier's. Bucky Barnes was as hard as nails. A legend.

To keep up with the notoriety, it was rumoured that Barnes and his team were also a biker gang. It was never confirmed, but the black leather jacket he always had on, the long hair touching his shoulder or tidied in a low bun, the motorbike barked in front of the gym, and the intimidating sense lingering around him. It was never denied, either.

In the mornings, Bucky Barnes ran a successful gym with his two bestfriends, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Both played occasionally, but only Bucky was the professional, so they were more his trainers. They also trained other players and armatures. They tried to gain other normal customers, but it didn't always work. With a reputation like theirs, attracting customers wasn't easy.

It was usually the same for nights, unless they had matches. Most of their fights were held on Stark's property. He ran an empire, and boxing was the dominant centre, led by the biggest champion. And Stark lets Bucky have it his way, just like he likes. As long as Bucky keeps on bringing these huge numbers into their pockets, both are happy and content.

So it was out of the nature for Bucky to have zero interest in the new restaurant that opened up right next door to the gym. They had their regularly frequented places. The bar run by Romanoff and Belova, a couple of blocks away from Stark's property, was more than enough. He didn't even bother to throw a glance at it. Even after he knew that the owner had come by and given out menus and promised them discounts if they stopped by, there was still nothing.

Until one night. Bucky got carried away in training. He had an important match coming up. He knew his opponent barely stood a chance, but Bucky enjoyed the thriller of the game. The sweat and blood that go into it He didn't remember a time when he didn't want to do this. It was like it was programmed so deeply in his brain. He was made for this.

Everyone left, one by one. Until then, it was only him. After so many hours, he finally got tired. He threw his gloves aside and went to take a shower to remove the evidence of his hard work before going back home. As he was locking the gym's door, he heard his stomach growl, reminding him that he needed food. He was starving. Before deciding to wait and order food once he got home, the big sign caught his eye. They did indeed have a restaurant right next door. He admitted he was too tired to cook or wait for delivery. He needed food, then crashed into his bed. So maybe the closest restaurant would be useful.

Once he stepped in, he felt out of place immediately. His dark clothes and huge frame made him look like a stranger compared to the light-coloured painted walls. Some had flowers, and others had stars drawn on them. There were fairy lights in some corners. The aromatic scent was everywhere. Bucky almost winced at how bright and colourful everything felt. This was an alternative universe that he didn't belong in.

"Hi, how can I help you?" An even sweeter voice rang and caught Bucky's attention, breaking him from his trance of observing the place.

He turned around to find the prettiest girl he had ever seen standing behind the counter. Your beauty caught him off guard. He never believed someone could be so beautiful before. But here you were, standing. Taking his breath away.

He recovered very quickly and moved to stand in front of the counter. With the most loving smile, you handed him the menu. He took a look at the menu and wanted to laugh out loud. Dish names were just as cheerful as the atmosphere.

Out of habit, you started explaining and recommending stuff for him. He interrupted you, putting in his order. You didn't give it much thought but took his order happily.

You apologised for the lack of waiters, as it was almost closing time and it was only you. No answer. With his blank stare, you told him he could sit wherever he wanted. Only then did he notice the empty restaurant. It was just you and him. It was that late. So he took a seat at the nearest table.

Not taking much, you returned with his order. You placed it in front of him with a big smile on your face. You knew right away who that was the minute he walked in. James Barnes. The famous boxer who trains next door You have been praying after your small visit to them that they would be regular customers. The business was doing great. But the more, the merer. Always. Lots of people warned you about the men next door. But you didn't feel like they were as bad as people made them out to be. You were always so trusting, unless shown otherwise. So you were happy that, finally, one of them stopped by.

You moved away, letting him enjoy his food. Unable to fight your nature, you started talking to him as you continued cleaning the remaining parts of the place. No answer again. He didn't even bother to look at you. Okay. Maybe he had a rough day. Not all people are used to chatting.

Bucky was one of these people. His eyes widened as you started talking to him. People were never that friendly to him. People avoided him. Nobody tried to open up a conversation with him. He didn't know how to react. And he was too tired to try. So he practiced his other specialty. Silence. But even if he wouldn't admit it, Bucky found your voice calming. So he let you talk instead of just shutting you up.

You reduced your talking to a minimum. Only little remarks there and then to avoid complete silence. The second time, you heard his voice since he walked in and asked for the check. You brought the paper to the table he occupied, keeping your smile up and telling him that he got the 'neighbour discount' as you called it. You almost heard his scoff as you left him.

You had your back to the door, so you only turned around when you heard the door close. You didn't hear his footsteps, and most definitely, you didn't hear his goodbye, goodnight, or even thank you. Now that's rude.

You returned to the table to collect the check. But you found the review note you attached to every check empty. Not a single penmark. And that was more rude. You made sure that filling out the note only took seconds. You genuinely cared to hear people's opinions so you could be better and have the restaurant grow more.

So he didn't speak to you for more than two sentences. Didn't say thank you or goodbye. Didn't fill in the note. Okay, maybe you didn't want them as customers if they were all that rude.

It turns out they weren't that rude. However, Bucky was more rude than you thought.

A couple of days after Bucky's visit, you were surprised to see Bucky with another two men. You guessed they were Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. The trio was all well-known. You doubted if Bucky was the one to recommend the restaurant. You weren't sure if he even liked the food. And you were right. He would be caught dead if he brought up the fairy world you called a restaurant. Even when it served the tastiest food he had ever had,

It was a slow day. No intense training or excessive fight preparation The three men didn't have much to do that day. So when Steve suggested trying out the restaurant, Bucky neither objected nor showed excitement.

So when they walked in, you couldn't help the feeling of surprise along with the tiny bit of happiness, hoping it would be a nicer visit this time. After preparing their orders and sending them out, you waited for a bit before you left the kitchen to greet them. Not before making sure you looked presentable.

With the small space and their loud voices, it wasn't hard to locate them. You approached them with a big smile and positive attitude.

"I wanted to make sure you were having a good time." You followed up after introducing yourself.

"The food is amazing. This burger is to die for." Steve was the first to compliment you, with Sam nodding and agreeing.

"You have one good chef." Sam added as he took another french fry into his mouth. "Send my regards to them."

"Actually, I'm also the chef." The statement caused a shocked expression to fill in their faces. They asked for details, and you briefly told them how you were the core of the small business as the owner and main chef.

The two men were polite, and they didn't seem annoyed by your chatty personality. In fact, they interacted with you and asked questions to learn more. And all they had to say were nice compliments. Except one.

"So tell me, sweetheart, what was the inspiration for the place? Was it a fairy garden or Disney's latest cartoon?" None of you were ready for the sarcastic comment Bucky threw at you.

You didn't let your smile break in the face of his sarcasm. Nor did you give much thought to the pet name. You put on a bigger smile now, looking at him.

"A bit of both." That's one thing about you: you refused to let the world change about you. You never reciprocate rudeness with rudeness.

"I can tell." Bucky was taken back by your response. He expected you to get offended, but you didn't.

"Thank you. It was my vision all along." You replied, your smile never leaving your face.

And that started your hate relationship with Bucky Barnes.

After that day, the men became regular customers. And it wasn't just the three men. Little by little, it was most of the team. First, it was just to try the good food. Then it was because they wanted to. They wouldn't admit it, but your place was like a breath of fresh air. Something so different from what they are used to. From what they are known for. From what people expected from them. And you never judged them, treated them differently, or asked about the rumours that followed them. So it was a calm change, but much needed.

But their favourite thing was yours and Bucky's constant bickering. Or more Bucky's. Nobody understood why Bucky was doing this. You never partook in his constant attempts to make fun of you. You always had a sweet response to fire back. You truly were the living embodiment of killing them with kindness.

However, he never stopped. Every time he stepped foot in the place, you claimed it was your biggest achievement. He had something rude to say. Something to annoy you with. Something to bother you. Sarcasm and jokes spilling out of him with no end whatsoever.

The number of times you wanted to punch him or snap at him right back was increasing. But you refused to give in. To let him win. He wouldn't be the one to change you. So you kept engaging with him only with gracious things to say.

Besides, you chose to think that everyone had their own battles and demons. And for sure, Bucky looked like he had lots of them. He looked rougher than most. His job made him appear invincible, but he wasn't. Nobody was. So he may drive you mad, but he deserves the gentle treatment you offered all.

Bucky had no idea why he was doing it. Why every time he saw you, he felt the urge to tease you. It wasn't like him. But he didn't fight it back.

"How are you, Tinkerbell?"

"You should buy green carpets. It will finish off the garden aesthetic."

"Here is the princess who got lost."

"The pasta was great, Barbie."

Stuff like this flew from him all the time. And not once did you get back at him. You stayed nice and polite. Your sweet self never crumbling.

There was something in you that drove him insane. Your warm eyes. Your bright smile. Your cheerful voice. Your positive mindset. Your kind heart. Your friendly nature. Your hard work. Your delicious food. Your colourful wardrobe of dresses, skirts, tops, and cardigans. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was all of it.

The deepest part of him knew why he was doing this. He liked you. He liked you so much. From the moment he entered your restaurant alone, the first time And the more he knew you, the more he liked you. You were special. And you were everything he wasn't. He thought if he got closer, he would be tinting you. He would bring darkness to your shine. A moral thing preventing him from speaking his truth. even thinking about it.

So he acted like a teenager. He made fun of you. In hopes of making you hate him. He convinced himself and the others that he didn't like your sunshine personality.

Until one day

It started off like any normal day. Bucky had a match coming up. So they all had something to do. The day was going fine. Up before Peter Parker, who was usually on reception duties, ran in and said there was fire in your place,

For a second, blood ran cold in Bucky's body. He heard ringing in his ears. Were you okay? He collected himself quickly, wanting to check for himself.

He threw the gloves away, almost pushing everybody out of the way to get out. And he was the first to see the chaos in the street. A firetruck was parked, and firemen were going in and out of your restaurant along with some policemen. His eyes were searching for you frantically until he spotted you.

You had some dust on your face and your white clothes. You were checking that everyone was okay and out safely. But you couldn't hide the quivering of your lips or your shaking body.

He couldn't help himself as he ran towards you. You turned as you felt someone approaching you. Without your control, your face softened, and tears blurred your sight once you noticed who it was.

"Bucky." You whispered as a way to ground yourself from all the mess that happened and is still happening.

Following his first instincts, Bucky pulled you into his chest, wrapping your trembling form in his arms and holding you so close to him. And the dam broke.

Sobs fled from you. Tears mixed with his sweat. Your fists gripped his white tank top. Your face hidden away in his chest.

You didn't know how it happened. You had been holding up well enough during it all. You had been managing the situation the best you could. However, when Bucky got here, your mind stopped working. Your mind gave up on you, letting your emotions hit you with full force, breaking down your bastion with no guarantee you would be caught.

But you were. You were braced by strong amrs, rubbing your back, laying small kisses on your hair, and whispering words of comfort in your ears. "I'm here. I'm right here." "You're okay. You're fine."

Your sobs ceased, but your body still shook against Bucky's. Tears remained to fall freely on your face. Bucky's hold was still firm but secure around you.

You only moved away from him when a policeman approached you, informing you that you were needed at the police station.

"I'm coming with you." Bucky's stern voice left no room for negotiation. It wasn't up to debate. He wasn't leaving you.

"I'll grab my stuff in a second." He turned to the policeman standing in front of you, making sure it was okay that he joined. And he got a nod of approval in return.

He left your side, walking towards the gym. He paid no attention to his friends standing by, who were puzzled by the encounter. And true to his words, he came back in seconds, his black leather jacket on, phone in hand, and wallet in hand.

He got to you, letting his hand wrap around your shoulder. The gesture was welcomed by you as you rested your head on his chest. Something about having Bucky spread calmness in you

At the police station, Bucky found out what really happened. It wasn't just fire. It was a robbery. A bunch of armed men attacked your restaurant, demanding money from you and all the people inside. As you are trying to handle the situation without panicking more, it was discovered that one of the customers was a cop, which sent the robbers into an unexpected turn. So they took all they could from the cash register and your own things before setting the kitchen on fire to run away without being caught.

Between talking with the insurance company, the bank, and watching security footage from your restaurants and the street, you spent the rest of the day in the station.

And Bucky didn't leave your side for a second of it.

He didn't leave you until you both got out of the cap in front of your apartment. And he didn't leave until he made sure you got inside safely.

Something about you being hurt sent Bucky into a spiral. Who was heartless enough to hurt such a sweet soul as you? To look at you and not want to give you everything? Bucky would never know. All he knew was that he never wanted to see you so afraid and shaken like today. To not see your smile lighting up your face. So he would do whatever it took to make sure you were always fine.

Which was why you found him by your building the first thing in the morning.

"You have lots of places to go today. Said I would join you."

And up until you were handed the keys to your restaurant brand new after the insurance company had finished the repairs, Bucky didn't leave you. He was always there. Helping you finish papers, going to the police station to identify the robbers, and buying new stuff for the restaurants. Everything. He was there for everything.

And you had to admit. It was lovely to have him. A helping hand you needed. Physically and emotionally. Someone to share this unfortunate journey with. And Bucky didn't bother it for a bit. And you appreciated having him.

So, it only felt right for him to be your first order after the reopening.

The truth was, you never hated Bucky, no matter how much you tried. His huge form, his steel blue eyes, his signature stare, his playful smirk. They all made you feel something. He made you feel something you couldn't quite understand. But it was a pleasant something. He annoyed you so much, but you never took it too seriously. Maybe he hated you, but you didn't.

Now, you didn't need him. You were ready to carry on with your life. He didn't know how to get back to normal. He couldn't. He couldn't pretend you didn't make his heart beat faster. You made his days better. But he was so unworthy of you. And he knew you could never look at him. Maybe you hated him, but he didn't.

He tried to get back to his life. Only training and matches. Only visiting your place with the others who quickly figured out what was happening. He needed to get you out of his mind. That lasted for two days.

When Bucky was closing the gym, he heard something coming from your restaurant. With a frown, he moved to see you still inside. He looked at his watch to check the time again. It was indeed late.

"What are you doing?" He didn't bother with greetings as he entered.

"Hi, Bucky." Your cheerful voice rang through the empty place.

"What are you doing?" He repeated his question, looking at the paper in front of you.

"I'm sending out advertisements and deal offerings to different places." You answered him with a smile.

"Sweetheart, do you know what time it's?" Bucky signed as he looked at you, looking clueless.

"C'mon, let's get you home." He moved towards you, taking the papers out of your hand and putting them down without messing them.

"But I have a lot to do." You tried to protest as he gathered your stuff and helped you out.

"It will still be here in the morning." And he was having none of it.

"I need to get the business going." You added.

"You can do that in the morning, too." Bucky led you out of the restaurant in spite of your complaining.

He took the key from your hand and handed it back to you after he closed up. You expected him to move away, but he didn't.

"How are you going to get home?" He hoped you wouldn't give him the answer he had in mind.

"It's not very far. I was going to walk." And it was it.

Do you not care about your safety, or do you think you are James Bond?

Bucky had to bite his tongue and not scold you right on the spot. He knew you were stressed about the business, so he didn't want to add more.

"Great. I was going somewhere there, too. Let me walk."

"You were?" You questioned him, not believing him, but he nodded quickly.

As a matter of fact, Bucky didn't have anywhere to go other than collapsing on his bed. But over his dead body were you going to walk back home alone in this hour

"Lead the way, princess." The return of the name, but a smile on your face. He may mean it as an insult. You didn't care. It sounded good coming from him.

And the two of you walked.

And somehow, without planning, it became a routine.

Bucky would finish at the gym and come straight to the restaurant. It didn't matter whether it was late or not. He would get in and wait till you were done with the day. Then he would walk you home. Sometimes, he would help with stuff, but most times, you would make him sit down and bring him tonnes of food you prepared just for him.

"You train so hard. Don't want to burn these muscles. Eat and rest."

You weren't stupid. You knew he had nothing to do with where you were living. Yet he still chose to go out of his way, walk you home, and wait until you got in. He was taking care of you. So you wanted to take care of him too.

It felt strange to Bucky. Nobody made sure if he was eating well enough, drinking enough water, and resting enough. Nobody ever did. Everybody treated him like he was a machine. Like he He needed nothing.

Then there you were. Feeding him with delicious food. Letting him relax. Laughing at his jokes. Your hands grazing softly. It was all foreign to him, but very welcome. And he was getting attached. He knew it. How could he not?

He had the sweetest and most loving person on the planet, showing him attention and care.

Bucky counted the minutes until he could be with you. Until he could walk you home, it would be just the two of you. You did most of the talking, telling him about your day or an interesting story you heard. He would tell you briefly about his day.

He loved listening to you. Every detail you shared with him. You were the first in his life to be carefree around him other than his family. You didn't let his stiff demeanour affect your friendly one.

The extra time he spent back to his place from yours didn't bother him in the slightest. He found it reassuring that he knew for sure you were safe at home. It was all worth it.

Every single one of Bucky's friends knew what was happening from the moment he asked to postpone a match to go somewhere with you when you're repairing the restaurant. And it became so clear when he stopped hanging out at Natasha's bar after matches, claiming he was tired. But, in truth, he only wanted to be with you. And the days he knew he couldn't turn it down, especially after a grand victory, he would be glued to his phone until you texted him that you were home. Then he may start celebrating.

Bucky almost punched Steve in the face when he brought up inviting you to one of the matches, or at least to hang out with the whole team at Natasha's bar. Bucky wanted you nowhere near this world. He couldn't imagine you watching him while he was fighting. You would never look at him again. Yes, you were kind, but in the ring, he was a beast. You didn't deserve to see how bad he could be.

That's why he never acted on his feelings for you. He knew he was falling for you. He knew from the start. But you deserved better. So much better.

Your radiant nature had no place near him.

He even tried to stop seeing you, feeling guilty for ever getting close to you. But he failed miserably. You gave him something nobody did. A light in the darkness.

So he bottled it and felt grateful that you even let him be your friend. Or whatever you were.

Before a fact came crushing. You were single.

The days following matches were usually very slow. So he left earlier than usual just to come and wait for you. As long as you wanted. He had a bandage on his forehead and a compression bandage around his hand.

Sometimes you forget what his job was. Until he shows up bruised and bandaged like this. You knew he was strong enough to handle himself. He was the best in the game. But you couldn't help the twinge of your heart at the thought of him hurt.

So you prepared extra food and drinks for him. Once it was evening, you kept your best table for him. You even brought the air freshener with the scent; he commented once that he liked it. Everything to help him relax.

You kept telling yourself you were only doing this because he liked to help everyone. But you knew it was very different. He was very different.

So when he stepped in, your big smile got bigger.

You tried to come and talk with him whenever you could, but it was a busy day. He had no problem. He enjoyed watching you work. You were so dedicated and smart. He wanted you to be the most successful chef and owner in the world.

But maybe he shouldn't have been watching. He should have paid attention to anything else. So he wouldn't have seen the man who had been flirting with you since he walked in.

It was taking everything in Bucky to not get up and throw the guy away. But he heard it. Your answer to his question "Yes, I'm single." And he was reminded of the cruelty of the world. You weren't his. He shouldn't be jealous. He shouldn't have been biting the inside of his mouth when the guy tried to touch your hand as you handed him his bill.

And he most definitely shouldn't be feeling like crying and burning down the world when the guy asked you out and left his number.

Wasn't that what he wanted? For you to have better than him. To have someone who wasn't surrounded by blood and pain. Someone who wouldn't defile your glimmer That guy looked decent enough. Maybe that was your chance to find love.

However, he wanted to tear that paper to pieces. He wanted to punch the guy for asking his girl. But you weren't his girl.

Bucky was conflicted by his emotions. He didn't know what to feel or how to think. So he did the thing he was the best at. He stayed silent.

You noticed right away the change in his mood. He wasn't the most talkative person, but this silence was different. He looked like he was somewhere else. Somewhere, that wasn't so nice.

"Are you sure that you are fine?" You asked as you came to a stop in front of your building.

You only got a nod as an answer.

"You know you can tell me anything. I'm always going to be here."

Your words finally made him look at you after you left the restaurant.

"You are?" His hesitant tone made you frown.

"Of course." You answered very quickly.

"Are you going to go out with this guy?" It was quiet; you almost missed it, but you didn't.

Bucky didn't know what happened. He promised himself he wouldn't bring it up. It had nothing to do with him. But he couldn't. It fell from him.

"Do you want me to?" Your reply was something he didn't expect at all.

You couldn't say you weren't disappointed when Bucky did nothing when the guy started flirting with you. You didn't know what you wanted him to do. But you wanted him to do something.

Instinctively, Bucky moved closer to you, standing right in front of you.

"No, I don't want to."

"Tell me why I shouldn't go out with him."

The space between the two of you was almost nonexistent. You were so close to each other. His blue eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were filled with something so warm that you couldn't quite figure it out.

Bucky didn't know how to answer your question. Why didn't he want you to go out with the guy? Well, he didn't want you to go out with any guy. So he threw caution to the wind and followed his heart.

You almost tripped, but his hands on your waist steadied you. The feeling of his lips on yours was something out of the world. His lips were a bit bruised, but they were soft. It was all so good that your mind stopped working.

Bucky was about to pull away and apologise profoundly when you didn't kiss him back. As he was about to move, your hands wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.

The kiss was gentle, and it was filled with emotions. Loving ones. It sent electricity through your bodies. It spread warmth all over you.

Your need for oxygen made you break the kiss, hands still around each other, eyes only looking at each other.

"I thought you hated me."

"Never did. Not for a second, princess."

Bucky's lips smashed against yours once again. And it was like every piece was falling into its place. The puzzle was completed. The rainbow after the rain

You were the shining star in Bucky's dark sky. He may not deserve you, but he was going to do everything in his power to get you to shine more.

Because you were made for each other.

528 notes · View notes

according2thelore · 9 days ago

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YESSSSSS ADAM CONTENT!!!!! ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

QUEENS YOU ARE FEEDING USSSSSS!!!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

Me bringing ABO into the mix:

- Little pup Adam going extremely clingy/has separation anxiety towards Omega Dean because of the sudden environment/ lifestyle change with John (who is barely there as a Father/Alpha), so little Adam imprint on Dean as his new "Mommy" even though he knows his actual Mom is in Heaven.😭😭😭

- Newly presented Alpha Pre-teen Sam being SO annoyed at this walking, breathing remainder of John's hypocrisy always toddling towards Sam and trying to get his attention (when Dean isn't there) because Sam is the closest thing to a stable/constant pack Alpha and Adam just wants to be accepted by himmmmmmmmm. 😭😭😭😭😭

- Adam constantly trying to snuggle up in Dean's nest (on the rare occasions that Dean takes a break from taking suppressions) because it reminds him of his Mom and even though Deans scent is no where close, it makes him feel save 😭😭😭😭😭

- Dean feeling both pride and resentment when John praises Dean for taking care of Adam like a "good Omega" and "Mary would have been so proud"

- Sam and Dean having fights about "baby sitting" Adam because "What do you mean you can't study here?! Sam, I already told you I had a date tonight!" And Sam throwing back "I'd never agreed to that Dean! I have my own plans, and you can't just expect me to bail on my study group just to babysit Adam!" And the argument escalates until they hear quite sniffles and see Adam all red eyed and puffy cheecks.

- Bobby giving John an earful about bringing another pup on this insane revenue fueled journey, like what are two underage teenage boys going to do with a kid if John punches the ticket in a hunt?

- "Urgh, Adam I'm trying to read, can't you play outside or something?" Sam mumbles, eyes not lifting from the book his supposed to read during the summer. Dean pokes his Dean from Bobby's kitchen (John is away on a hunt with Bobby). "Sam, knock it off. It’s too hot for this, I’m almost done making lunch, and we just saw Adam touching a car door that probably predates penicillin this morning. Do I really need to remind you why Bobby keeps a stash of tetanus shots in the fridge ?".

They hear giggling from the sofa with a makeshift blanket ford, Adam says, "Yeah Sammy, it's too hot outside! And Sully wants to build Legos later!", Dean snorts and glances at Sam before disappearing into the kitchen and Sam asks "Who's Sully?"

Sorry for going off on a rant here, I just really love that Adam post!!!!!

hi, anon!!!!

EEEEEE thank you so much!!!!! i LOVE the adam-grows-up-with-them AU, and i LOVE talking about it!!!!!!

gasp PLEASE bring the omegaverse into it, lol, i clearly have a LOT to say about it!!!!!!!

let's fucking DISCUSS RAHHHHHHH!!!!

FUCK i love baby adam imprinting on omega!dean like a little duckling. the world is so much bigger than adam could even process, and a big, gruff alpha that smells like abandoned birthday parties and like the mean men standing outside at the gas station takes him away from his toys and friends and house.

there are two boys that feels like grown-ups to a six-year-old adam, one seventeen and the other thirteen, both smelling like each other and not like the angry man a whole lot. the thirteen-year-old doesn't talk to adam much, seems to be mad at him, but adam doesn't know why.

the older boy, dean, kneels on the ground and gives adam a tin of green plastic soldiers, makes little machine gun noises with his mouth that make adam giggle.

he smells like playgrounds and sunshine, and adam finds that he wants to be around this omega...a lot. he wakes up crying his first night, seeing blood all over the floor and his hands and crying for a mommy that won't ever come to get him. dean gets up from his shared bed with sammy and crawls into adam's bed, pulling the little pup to his chest and cooing softly at him.

he talks with adam quietly, nuzzling in his hair gently, and stays with him all night. the second night, adam tugs gently on dean's shirt hem and asks him if he could sleep in his bed again.

they quickly become a bit inseparable, much to sam's chagrin. when dean goes to school in the next town, adam has a meltdown that lasts hours, until john goes to pull dean out of fourth-period math. adam keeps apologizing, shaking so hard that his teeth chatter. dean just soothes a hand over his hair, letting the pup scent him, looking up at his dad with big, confused eyes.

dean smells safe. nothing else in the entire world feels safe. adam's bed doesn't smell like home, anymore, it smells like cigarettes and bleach. but dean, dean smells like home.

adam draws pictures for dean with crayons dean swipes for him, and dean has a folded envelope in his duffle with all of adam's drawings. adam remembers his mommy being really excited and happy when he gave her his drawings, and he wants dean to be happy with him, so, so bad. dean always oohs and ahhs over adam's firetrucks and drawings of their sad, little pack.

one night, after dean helps him take his bath, he says, thank you mama, and then gasps, horrified, and cries all night. he knows dean's not his mommy. he doesn't want dean to be his mommy, he knows his mommy is in heaven, but...dean's warm. and nice. and listens to adam talk about bugs for hours. dean just soothes the pup, chest so tight that it aches, and tells him that it's alright.

~~~

sam presents as an alpha, and is a bit furious that this only makes adam more annoying. he was already pretty furious that this walking-talking proof of their dad's bastard-hood lives with them full-time.

for one, he takes up all of dean's time. he toddles after dean like dean hung the sun, and dean--fuck him--tolerates it. whenever sam wants to do something, dean tells him that dad won't be there to watch adam, so they can't leave. the kid's six, okay? he can fucking deal. sam was left alone when he was six. dean was left alone with sam when he was six, and he turned out okay.

for another thing, he won't leave sam alone. even before sam presented, adam would slide little pictures across the motel dining room table at him, of buildings and animals and clouds. dean snarls at sam to say 'thank you,' but sam's not going to fucking do that.

but now that sam's actually presented, and dean leaves to help on a hunt or bend some college girl over, adam is attached to his side like a limpet. he asks sam a million questions, maneuvers himself onto sam's lap when they sit on the couch, hauls himself into the dining room chair across from sam and solemnly doodles while sam does his homework. they both work in silence, and even that irks sam, as he watches as adam has to use both hands to pick up his glass of hard-earned milk.

it all changes, though, one night. dean's out hustling, after john left them for a couple weeks with not enough money to stretch between. sam's doing his homework at the table, and adam pulls gently on sam's shirt sleeve. sam's about to tell him to go away, when adam changes his entire fucking world in a second.

"alpha," adam asks, and sam's breath gets punched out of him. adam looks up at him with big, blue eyes. sam coughs. adam's asking him. alpha.

adam doesn't say another word, waits to be addressed like they're an actual fucking pack and not four broken boys stapled together in something that looks vaguely human.

"yeah?" sam croaks. alpha. dad's never been a pack alpha. he'd have to be around to do that. sam realizes, with a lurch, that this kid sees dean as the pack omega. which makes sam...the pack alpha. sam's probably the closest thing to a pack alpha that this twerp has ever had--an omega mom, a deadbeat alpha dad, an omega older brother.

"can i have a popsicle?"

adam still just blinks up at him. waiting.

with their last few dollars, dean had brought home a pack of popsicles that were sloshy liquid in their plastic little tubes, wrapped in orange netting. it was getting hotter every day, and dean had shrugged when sam criticized his choice in nutrition.

"did you eat all your dinner?" sam asks, mouth dry. he's still absolutely baffled, but with an acuity that is almost blinding, he resolves to be a better example of an alpha than his dad ever was.

adam nods, seriously, little feet padding around the table so he can tilt his empty mac-and-cheese bowl forward for sam's inspection. orange smears are the only things left.

"then yes." sam says, standing and crossing over to the freezer. at the last second, he looks down and asks adam, who is standing at his hip with big, excited eyes, "what colour?"

"green," adam blurts, quick. he squirms. sam, in spite of himself, snorts. he roots around for a green one, and cuts the top off with a bowie knife left on the nightstand.

"thank you, alpha," adam says, little mouth wrapping around the plastic sleeve of the popsicle. he slides a piece of purple construction paper across the kitchen table when they've both sat back down, shyly.

sam takes it. turns it around. it's a stick figure standing tall, at least two sizes bigger than the other stick figure at his feet. there's a big black blob in the corner of the drawing, the big figure between it and the smaller stick figure.

"it's you," adam says, "keeping the bad guys away."

sam thanks him. he excuses himself to the bathroom, and he sits on the cool tile for a long time, too confused and overwhelmed to even cry.

the next week, when adam asks sam with a small voice if he did an okay job shucking corn for their dinner, sam ruffles his hair for the first time, and adam is still smiling when he goes to bed hours later.

~~~

dean hates going into heat. if it were up to him, he'd be on supps until he died.

dad hits the fucking bricks as soon as dean starts his heat, and has starting pulling sam out with him by the hair, since he presented. sam snarls and fights--and one time, bites--john, but he never lets him stay, anymore.

they, and dean's not sure who "they" are, only that they're fucking bastards, say that an omega can be on supps for six months, then has to take a month off. dean's not sure why, don't ask him. something about bone fragility or hypertension or calcium in his heart, who fucking cares.

what it means for dean is that he's now alone for a week, sweating bullets and writhing in bed by himself, with dad and sam staying a few doors down.

it's lonely. it's hollow.

before sam presented, he was allowed to stay with dean and make sure he ate, and crawl into dean's nest, letting dean scent his little pup-smell, cold fingers pressed to dean's overheated forehead.

it was the only sane thing in dean's entire world for a week.

but now, unbelievably, he has adam.

speak of the devil, dean's nose twitches. adam smells like lemons and baby powder--pure pup, all the way through--and dean can feel the bed dip.

he's between waves right now, but knows soon he's going to be inconsolable again, body begging for a knot that he's never going to get.

his nest is a fucking mess. dean's eyes burn. no wonder no alpha could ever want him. it's mostly sam's clothes, his smelly socks and second-hand flannels and a jean jacket he managed to sneak out of a goodwill. dean's useless. can't even build a proper nest. can't keep his pups safe and warm in here, no way. adam's going to freeze to death in his stupid, ugly nest, and dean is going to die unloved and grieving. dean sniffles. fucking hormones.

adam wiggles over the edge of the nest, and makes a little noise.

dean opens his arms, and adam collapses into his arms, question answered. dean rubs his head against adam's hair, and dean's a stupid omega because he's the one that's going to have to wash his sweat off of his pup's hair, now. stupid, useless, alone omega.

"don't be sad," adam whispers, tiny little pup fingers on dean's cheeks.

"'m not sad," dean sobs, "dumb pup."

adam reaches up and pinches dean's nose closed. and holds it. and holds it. and holds it.

dean snorts, dissolving into exhausted laughter as he has to open his mouth to breathe.

"you're a little twerp, anybody tell you that?" dean sighs, and adam presses himself up into dean's arms, rubbing his head all over dean's terrible, stupid nest. when he comes back to dean, he smells like pack, like he and sam.

adam's eyes droop, mouth pulling up in an exhausted, far-away smile.

"you're gonna have to get out in a second, bud." dean tells him, the squirming, serpentine pull under his skin making him nauseous. adam's eyes snap open, and he looks, for a second, very scared.

"can i come back?" he asks. dean snorts, and bumps adam's forehead with his chin.

"you can always come back." he says, honestly, and adam's fist curls into dean's sweat-soaked shirt, eyes drooping closed. dean lets him sleep, then gently nudges him awake and away when the next wave of his heat hits.

the first thing dean feels when he's sane again, is the dip of the bed as adam crawls over the edge of his nest, and makes a small, questioning noise.

dean lets his arms drop open.

~~~

dean doesn't know how to feel when dad tells him he reminds him of his momma.

you're such a good omega, john says. like that's all dean is. maybe it is. maybe that's all dean'll ever be.

on one hand, it satisfies something deep inside him when dad looks at dean bouncing adam up and down on his knee, adam screaming and giggling, and tells him that his momma would have been proud.

he wants his momma to be proud. he wants to be an omega that his momma would be happy to have raised.

but on the other hand...it makes dean want to shove adam off his lap. the pup doesn't deserve it. he didn't too a damn thing except be born, but dean doesn't want to be an omega. he doesn't want to be a...a coddled thing. a domestic thing. a perfect, shiny little thing. because he's not.

he's too big to be a pretty omega, too angry to be a nice omega, too mean to be a good omega.

he's a hunter. he's damn good at his job.

you're a good omega, dad says, patting dean on the head as he moves towards the door. it's supposed to be a thank you, dean thinks, for staying behind with adam, but...his stomach is all wrung tight.

i'm not. he wants to scream. i'm not a good omega. i'm not your omega.

he feels condescended to. overlooked. he feels...plastic, maybe. wrong. john looks at him and doesn't see an equal. or maybe he does, and maybe that makes it worse.

adam can always tell--damn him--and tries to scent dean. dean always pushes him away, goes outside for some air, sam always comes after him.

they sit in silence. dean's an omega. maybe that's all he'll ever be.

~~~

"it's just for tonight!" dean yells, "what's your damn problem?"

"my problem is that i told you i have plans!" sam shoves dean, hard. "i told you a week ago that i was going out with friends!"

"what friends?" dean barks a cruel laugh. "they're not your friends. they're temporary, sam!"

"yeah like that skirt you're chasing?" sam spits.

"fuck off."

"no, dean! i don't see why i have to give up on my plans so you can bend dinergirl over. she's 'temporary,'" sam mocks.

sam smells like firewood, like whiskey, like dad. he smells angry. dean knows he doesn't smell much better, the rotten-egg smell of his anger making his own nose wrinkle.

"i've got to get out of this goddamn cabin." dean snarls, tearing at his hair. "i've played fucking nursemaid since deluth and i need to get out of here. i'm sick of it."

they've been fighting all week, it feels like. dad's fucked off to who-knows-where, a phone call the only thing connecting him to his three sons, four states away.

they're in the kitchen of a cabin, lit only by the microwave light, dean pacing on dusty tile, sam with his arms crossed and dean in his socks.

dean wants to scream. he thinks he might.

he's exhausted. he's fucking exhausted. he wants, nonsensically, to go home. he's staring his home in the eyes as he screams. he's sure his home is asleep a few rooms over, in the cabin dad managed to rent out for the month. his home is four states away, hunting monsters. his home is buried six feet under, more ash than woman. his home is dead. his home doesn't want him back. his home is gone.

his home is yelling at him, and dean wants to punch him square across his stupid jaw.

"you don't think i'm sick of it?" sam retorts. "i never agreed to bail on my plans to babysit, dean!"

dean rounds on him, gets in sam's face, sam's set jaw, dean's shaking fists, a chest so hollow it feels like it'll crack open.

"i never agreed to bail on my fucking life to babysit, but here we are!" it's louder than dean means, a bellow, and he loves it. it fills up his chest in the way nothing else will. he opens his mouth to scream again, but--

a gasp, a sniffle, a sob. sam and dean freeze, and adam shoves past their waists as he barrels out the front door, tearstreaked face and wide eyes and mouth open on a sob.

dean catches a flash of blond hair and firetruck pajamas.

the fight leaves him immediately, dean slouching as the screen door screeches, bangs, tiny feet on a wooden deck, on crunching leaves as he pounds down the steps.

"fuck." dean says, right as sam says, "shit."

they share a look, guilty and exhausted and strung-out. sam pulls out his phone, using the antenna to scratch at his eyebrow as he closes his eyes tightly.

they move quick, dean crossing over to the front door to shove his feet into the boots he left there earlier that afternoon.

"i'll cancel." sam says, "you go after him."

"nah, man," dean sighs, taking a quick break from lacing his boots to rub a hand down his face. "it's...it's whatever. bring some popcorn back."

sam's going to the movies, or something, right? dean forgot. he fumbles with the laces, and has to do them again.

"it's study group." dean can hear the laugh in sam's voice.

"then bring back a fucking calculator."

sam does laugh, then, but his voice still has a little bite when he says, "you're an idiot."

"well you're a..." dean stands, his feet aching in his boots. he scratches at the back of his head, looking at his alpha little brother, all bravado and authority and self-righteousness. "seriously, man, head on out. i'll call stacey later and cancel."

sam crosses the room but doesn't touch dean, just lets dean get a whiff of him, close enough to scent but dean doesn't dare. he shoves his feet into his beat-up converse, and dean almost reaches a hand out to stop him--they can't afford new ones if these crap out--but doesn't trust himself yet.

sam snags dean's abandoned hoodie hanging off of one of the dining chairs, and pulls it over his head.

when his face emerges from the pooling fabric, his hair is messy, and he smells more like dean, like pack, like home.

he shoves his fists into the front pocket, and shoulders the screen door open.

"shuddup." sammy grumbles, and they trudge out into the dark woods, trailing after their lost pup, sniffling in the darkness.

~~~

adam's feet dangle off of bobby's porch, swinging and banging against the old latticework underneath his porch. it's hot and stifling outside, and adam can already tell that he's going to have a sunburn when he goes back inside, the tops of his exposed knees a shiny, pink colour.

he's watching sam and dean throw knives in the dust lot behind uncle bobby's house, trying to hit a board already so full of score-marks that he can barely make out the painted-on target.

his pack omega left him a tin of toy soldiers to play with, and adam arranges them on the bottom rung of the porch railing, sun-lazy.

"they're fighitng about us, y'know." alpha's voice. adam sits up a little straighter. he thinks they've forgotten about him, since he's not facing them head-on. he's facing the tool shed instead of the dustlot, but he can hear them well.

he can pick their voices out in a crowd of people.

inside the house, he can hear dad yelling, screaming. uncle bobby yells back. the house smells like a car on fire. gasoline and melting plastic and danger.

"huh?" thunk. dean's voice, distracted.

"dad. and uncle bobby." sam says. thunk. something inside the house crashes to the floor.

"yeah, well. you really suck at this. i'd fight dad about it, too." dean says. thunk. adam moves three soldiers away from the rest.

"jerk. no, they're fighting about us and adam."

thunk. a clang, and adam looks up. sam and dean aren't looking at each other, eyes trained on the target. one of the knives must have hit another off the board.

"bitch." dean says, but after a long pause, his voice is quieter, defeated. "yeah. i know."

adam shifts closer, bringing his three soliders with him. one has a machine gun, the other a radio, the third a medic kit.

--you dumb motherfucker-- uncle bobby's voice, distant.

"uncle bobby's gotta point, dean." sam says. he winds up, throws the knife, it hits the ring outside of the centermost. "what the hell are we gonna do if dad..."

dean steps up, throws, misses. the knife spirals, hits the dirt with barely a noise at all.

"we're not gonna do anything, 'cause that's never gonna happen." dean throws again, barely hits the board, gets mostly white paint in the top right corner. "dad's the best hunter. ever."

"he's not immortal. you remember des moines?"

dean moves to collect the knives, and sam joins him. they count them, and split them in half. ten for dean, ten for sam.

"i don't know what you want me to say, sam." dean says, finally. he squares up to the board.

"we can't raise him." sam says, and dean's shot goes entirely wide, landing a few inches deep in a rusted car door a few feet left of the target with a deafening clang.

--is that what you want, john?--

dean whirls on sam, eyes blazing, and adam--even this far away--recoils.

"we ain't giving him up if that's what you fuckin' mean." dean spits. a hot breeze wafts his scent over to adam. protective. possessive. furious. "i can't believe you'd even suggest that. he's ours, sam."

sam takes a step back, then a step forward, bumping into dean's chest, a palm on his sternum, over the necklace dean's worn as long as adam's been alive.

"fuck you. i'd never say that. but..." sam flips a knife in his palm, throws it, point down into the dirt. "i don't know. wouldn't he be safer in a real home? wouldn't we all be safer in a real home?"

adam, slowly, separates the medic from the other two soldiers.

dean's face twists, and he stalks a few paces away. he hefts a knife in his hands, and throws it at the board. it hits.

--my boys, Bobby. They're my boys to--

"we gotta real home." dean says. he doesn't look at sam, voice and body tense. "you'd rather live in a picket fence? if dad died, you want me to give you up to the system, go to school, live with another two-point-five kids and a dog? is that what you're sayin'?"

thunk. closer to bullseye. dean picks up another knife. throws it. thunk. closer still.

"no," sam says, fiercely. "no. i'd never leave you. you know that."

--just kids. Children that'll--

"do i?" thunk. the ring away from dead center. "i'm seventeen, sammy. they wouldn't put me in the system, they'd give me a slap on the ass and twenty bucks and i'd never see you or adam again. i'm an unmated omega. they'd never let me keep either of you."

thunk. bullseye. dean's outta knives. he steps away from the target, still not taking his eyes away from the target. his hands are shaking. there's a triangle of sweat soaking through his shirt between his shoulder blades.

adam moves the solider with the machine gun away. the three face away from each other, now. alone.

alpha stalks up to dean, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him to face him, getting close. in his face. he's almost tall enough that they're eye-to-eye.

"i'm not gonna let that happen. no matter what, you hear me?" sam's voice is firm, uncompromising, loud. "i'd rather..."

sam trails into silence. dean doesn't look like he's breathing. his head dips, and for a second, adam thinks they're kissing, like in the movies, but he can hear his pack omega's voice a second later.

"you'd rather what?" he says, lowly.

a screech so loud that adam jumps, all three soldiers falling off the porch and scattering into the dirt.

boots on the porch, shaking the floor. dad must've run out the front door, away from the three of them in the dust lot.

"--gonna kill those boys, john, you hear me?" uncle bobby yells, closer than ever before. when adam turns back around, sam is throwing knives at the target, and dean is approaching adam on the porch, palms wiping off on his torn jeans.

when he sees adam look up, dean smiles. adam, hesitantly, smiles back.

~~~

EEP i'm not even going to touch the last few paragraphs with sully--it's literally PERFECT!!!! GRAHHH adam's little giggles and sam's confusion and dean's fondness...i'm punching a wall...

thank you SO SO SO much for sending this in, anon! and thank you so much for being patient!! <333 it's been a hectic month, but i am in love with this. omegaverse adam i'm gonna SCREAMMMM

i hope you enjoyed, and that your day is lovely, anon! <3

-lizzy

[adam AU masterlist]

#ask box #lizzy answers #adam AU #4K WORDS???#i'm actually super happy with this omg #anon <3 #omegaverse #i kinda tore this one up?

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its-callum-everybody · 9 months ago

Text

I CANNOT DRAW. That’s how I’m starting this off. So I, sadly, cannot give you all the visuals for this lovely woman. However! What I can give you all is a In-depth analysis of her character and Creation! Of course, we’ll be breaking this into parts.

Part 1 — Basic Character Information / Relationships

Part 2 — Everything to do with her Unique Magic

Part 3 — Lore

Part 4 — Appearance

PART 1 ➤

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Cyrielle [No Known Last Name]

Name Meaning: Lordly

Nicknames: Ce-Ce [Cater], Killifish-Chan [Floyd], Madame Profiterole [Rook], Yam [Vil], Henchman/Second-in-Command [Grim (she got ranked up)], Little Imp [Sam]

Age: Presumably 17

Height: 5 foot 8 inches or 173 cm

Weight: Never ask a lady this [146 lbs]

Gender: Female

Birthday: 8/18

Star Sign: Leo

Hair Color: Charcoal Black

Eye Color: Dark Grey

Sexuality: Undetermined

— (•) —

Dominate Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Breakfast Sandwich

Least Favorite Food: Pickled Eggs

Likes: Aesthetically pleasing things, being right

Dislikes: Dark Chocolate, amnesia

Hobbies: Dancing

Talent: Sword-Fighting

— (•) —

Year: 1st

Dorm: Ramshackle

Class | Student No.: 1-B | 34

Best Class: History

Favorite Class: Practical Magic

Club: N/A

Favorite Teacher: Sam (If that counts)

— 1st Years

Ace: Best Friend #1

Deuce: Best Friend #2

Jack: Mutual Respect. Don’t say their friends, understood to be friends.

Epel: He goes to her to get Junk Food and she happily feeds him. Friends.

Sebek: Begrudging Friends. She takes care of him like a stray cat and he complains while accepting it.

— 2nd Years

Riddle: Friendly Divorced Co-Parents of ADeuce.

Azul: Would smite him on sight with the sweetest smile on her face. He fears her. Slightly calmer after his over-bolt. Slightly.

Jade: Neutral. Can have decent conversation.

Floyd: Try to kill each other while smiling and laughing. Friends.

Ruggie: Hated him during Book 2 but they’re actually pretty chill afterwards. If they see each other in the halls, he tries to make her laugh by making someone do something weird with his magic.

Kalim: She’s number One sunshine protector. Was one-hundred percent ready to fist fight Jamil during his over bolt if she had too.

Jamil: Pre-book four, they were at a neutral standing. During his overbolt she was fully ready to just rock him. Post-overbolt, they’re very quiet around each other but nice. She sometimes just goes to Scarabia to sit there while he cooks.

Silver: She’s very nice to him and he doesn’t understand why. He woke up from a nap one day with his hair braided and a blanket over him. The only reason he knew it was her was because some birds told him. So he tries to be polite back but genuinely has no clue why she’s so nice and it freaks him out. She likes him.

— 3rd Years

Cater: Made a Separate Magic-cam account called ‘Cyrielle’s Adventures’ which focuses on him introducing Cyrielle to TWST pop culture and its a hilarious mess. Cater proclaims them BFF’s.

Trey: Dorm-Dad TM. She may not be in Heartslabyul but she’s always a welcome guest. When she comes over, she sits on the counter while Trey bakes. He lets her stir and eat the leftover batter.

Leona: One she actually did end up punching during his over bolt. She couldn’t stand him before or afterwards. During book three when he begrudgingly helped her and Grim though she loosened up. She can respect his intelligence though. Kingscholar would be more admirable if he had a bit of tenacity.

Vil: He kind of annoyed her pre-overbolt, after the over-bolt she did felt some level of sympathy for him. To always be the villain. That fact alone resonated with her for some reason those she can’t recall why.

Rook: He makes her uncomfortable. She can put up with him, but whenever she knows he’s nearby she can’t seem to let her guard down.

Idia: She didn’t really have any sort of feelings towards him before book 6. After book six though he ended up getting punched, then an awkward head pat. Needless to say He’s awkward around her and she ends up trying to nicer in the end. Even if he just runs away from her half the time.

Lilia: He caught her when she was covering Silver with a blanket and was sworn to secrecy. He knows very well about her crush and casually likes to drag Silver into spending time with him, find her, then leave them together.

Malleus: She invited him in to have tea one day and he ordained her and Silver’s wedding at that moment (because of course Lilia told him everything). Both can be the Yapper to the others Listener. Lilia forces him to play matchmaker too. So he casually tries to tell her about what Silver likes. He’s not good at trying to hint at it but he’s trying.

— Other

Grim: Her son. Will defend him with her life and soul. Do not touch her boy.

Ortho: She gets sad when she looks at him, even before book six. Something about a child that isn’t fully a child because they aren’t a person… it reminds her of someone she can never seem to remember. So she likes to treat him like a little kid even if he can do almost anything with his robotic abilities.

— Staff

Crowley: Fresh-out-of-Jail Uncle and Put-him-back Niece.

Crewel: There is blatant favoritism towards her and Vil. He does not hide it.

Vargas: Takes it easy on her in gym class because she’s one of the only girls; he watched her pick up Jack one time with no struggle and still does this.

Trein: She stays after his class sometimes to ask more questions about history. Lucius likes to chill in her lap during this time. Grandpa vibes.

Sam: Literally her adoptive dad.

#twst yuu #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst oc #twst #twst rp #twst roleplay #twisted wonderland original character #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland #twsited wonderland #Cyrielle (twst oc)

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hauntedheroines · 2 years ago

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James & Sarah ♫

(ಥ◡ಥ)

Anon, you are my favorite type of person. I've a playlist for Flawed, but I'm taking only my four most fitting examples:

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

Jealousy Turning saints into the sea Swimming through sick lullabies Choking on your alibis But it's just the price I pay Destiny is calling me Open up my eager eyes 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

"Coming out of my cage and I've been doing just fine" - I do have a sense that James was good at pretending he was normal around his friends and wished for that kind of normality. He was out there hanging out, working, even finding a girlfriend before Sarah was, so you'd think that he was emancipating too. I think he was trying to and believe he could add things like friends and a girlfriend to his life so that his entire world wouldn't revolve around Sarah and their house and his mind wouldn't be so fucked up.

But the interesting thing is that, even while James was putting himself out there, he did not allow Sarah the same privilege and, as soon as she forces her own emancipation, his mental state starts to gradually decline. It becomes too real: yeah, one day you and your sister will split up.

Now to other lines of the song: literally, everything started going downhill after James kissed Sarah.

It was just a kiss, Sarah. It's no big deal.

The once soothing childhood lullaby now a sick reminder of their codependency. James hearing Sarah's lies while she was seeing Sam.

The fact that James, more than Sarah, had to bear the consequences of growing up in an abusive environment - that the siblings tried to escape the cycle, but replicated their parent's toxic behavior to an extent. That James' ending was nothing more than what was destined to happen since the day his parents unknowingly designated him as his sister's protector. Sarah was outgrowing the past and becoming her own person - James could not.

How James endured with the thought that one day it would be just his sister and him, that his idea of happiness as a young adult was the same as when he was a boy. He was still that eager boy, waiting for the moment when the pain would go away, always hoping.

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

Sometimes you picture me I'm walking too far ahead You're calling to me I can't hear what you've said Then you said: Go slow, I fall behind

"Promise to never leave me."

I'm always taken aback by the fact that although James romantic interest was unrequited, their love was mutual. Accordingly, their imminent separation causes hurt and confusion for Sarah as much as it does for James. Both believed, all their lives, that it would be them against the world until Sam stepped in.

"That's your whole problem - you and James don't know where he ends and you begin."

I think this song skips between James and Sarah's POV about the present, past and the unknown future. I imagine Sarah looking through the window of Sam's bedroom, worried about her brother, as James is laying awake in his bed streets away, imagining his sister as she slips away to somewhere he can't follow, both flaskbacking through memories.

Yes, time after time. But times have changed.

Hoax - Taylor Swift

My only one My smoking gun My eclipsed Sun This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My winless fight This has frozen my ground

My enclipsed sun -- please don't take my sunshine away. They have hold on to a plan to escape the hell they lived in. Sarah changed that and, just with a sleight of hand, nothing made sense anymore.

"I don't know who I am without you. I don't want to. I need you more than Sam does, but you don't need me. God, it hurts." "Tell me you're not with him. Tell me and I'll believe it."

My winless fight, my barren land - fighting to keep Sarah by his side was pointless, even if she did chose to stay by the end. Neither should act out on anything other than fraternal love. Keeping her was farming a barren land: the fruits he wished for would not grow. Which is the reason why she is "the only shade of blue" Jaime's wishes for. He would rather have half-a-Sarah than no Sarah at all.

I'm Your Puppet- Gregory and the Hawk

I'm your puppet I'll learn to love it And I'll undress If you need it But please don't need it If you need it I'll scream out

The last stanza is James. The first two stanzas are Sarah. I cant' find the words to describe this song right now. It hurts so bad.

"Why can't I be enough? I wanna be enough so fucking bad."

I had to make a full hands on analysis because I can never talk enough about this book. It breaks my heart everytime.

Send me a ♫ with the name of a ship and I’ll tell you a song that fits them perfectly

#Flawed #Flawed novel #James x Sarah #O'Briencest #Villain x Heroine #Wincest #Kate Avelynn #Used to be friends #Love makes you crazy #Book #Ask memes

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bloodsalted · 1 month ago

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sam's heart is breaking apart. his life is bleeding out with every drop of dean's that disappates into nothing. a steady stream of blood rolls out of his brother's mouth and no matter what he does? he can't just put it back in and make it better. powerless isn't something sam ever wants to be. dean and him have been powerless too god damn many times in their lives! dean's supposed to be able to live his life. ALL of it. both of them earned it! both of them JUST GOT HERE! only to have it ripped away? it's bullshit! bullshit! BULLSHIT!

long, trembling fingers curl against dean's cheek as his brother's head falls forward and he looks so helpless. i should be able to fix this just like he fixes me, sam begs on repeat. I SHOULD BE ABLE TO FIX THIS and he can't even do a simple thing like have a cellphone that works!

dean can hear cas praying under his breath. everything's amplified. dialed in 2000 times on top of itself. layer after layer. hurt. love. fear. anger. love. love. love. if he slipped away here? it'd be in the arms of the two people he cherishes most. far as he can think? s'not a bad way to go. he's gone far worse. like being torn apart and dragged off to the hell that cas rose him up from. there's a warmth that feels the room shortly after. reminds him of the sunshine warm on his back and face while he dug up some weeds outside the barn earlier today. earth fell through his fingers after he picked up a solid handful. at his side, dean's fingers spread open. limp and nearly lifeless in how they become too weak to move again. the ground felt so cool in the shade.

holiness fills the air. a celestial exchange made to a set of hazel eyes that can't look away--sam's been fixated on jack and castiel as soon as jack appeared, silently pleading for something to happen. panic hollowed out his eyes. his cheeks. drained the color from his complexion. sam winchester is terrified but sees salvation in ribbons of gold and yellow and cas coming to life in a way that he's never seen. steals his breath. has him lightly tighten his grip on dean.

jack holds castiel with one hand on his forearm and the other gently cupping his cheek. he gives and gives until cas is the one to break away. renewed. angelic. made of a heaven that belongs to humanity and those that jack considers family. vast numbers of people who will never meet him are loved and cherished. but the men in this barn? he would move universes for should they ask and need him. never meddle but there to help them help themselves. this is what family does.

jack is light in castiel's heavenly eyes. gold and silver thread through flesh and bone and radiate all around him. coming and going in streams of gold that puts the sunrise to shame. he's corporeal and not at the same time. a solid presence woven by hymns and devotion. love and hope. peace and divinity encapsulate every part of his being. he breathes and breathes. the air between them is as sacred as the vows jack made upon offering them. equals. now and forevermore.

the nephilim stumbles back once cas separates from him. slightly dazed but none worse for the wear. he looks over to dean. his father just as castiel is and his conviction of not prying would've shattered upon seeing him limp with only a shred of life left in the deepest parts of his soul that dean will always consider 'bad and tainted'. he is the most brilliant human i've ever seen and yet.. even in near death that part is begging for salvation. to be spared the punishment it is terrified thinks it deserves.

a guttural, broken and wet sounding scream's ripped from dean's chest as he's pulled off the rusted metal. then nothing but the uneven sound of gasps for air that won't come to his lungs while he hangs against cas's side. the smell of blood saturates the room as it pours from his chest and back. thick streaks and splotches of dark crimson hit the dirty floor and cas's shoes. more spills down the angel's wrist and stains his shirt and coat. red slicked teeth are bared as the hunter grimaces when cas's hand rests upon his chest.. he can't fight it. hurts so fucking much! til it doesn't..

dean's weight is supported solely by cas on one side and his brother on the other as the grace is freely given. jack's taken several steps back and watches so carefully. dean lingers on the brink of death and perhaps just a little past it but jack---the way he tucks his chin down and stares as if he's telling a piece of dean to stay put and wait with a low brow, pointed no fucking around stare that seems so out of place on someone so usually filled with such radiant gentility. fits more on the man they are saving than him. "not today, dean. it's not your time," his voice is so low that only castiel with his reclaimed glory can hear. the air around them shifts. and jack nods to someone..

..that someone is dean who's been dead too many times to not know where this is going. for only a pebble of time--he's standing in front of himself with his back turned to his predicament. as cas delivers him from teetering on the edge once again--dean looks to jack and his eyes go soft and round and he knows he mouths i love you to the being that's reclaimed heaven's greatest angel as his first.

"i love you, too, dean.." the new god whispers as sam turns to him. confused. full of fear. but dean's chest rises. the last mouthful of blood's spit out as cas props up his head. dean chokes on the taste and a line of it runs from his bottom lip towards the floor. he doesn't move and barely opens his eyes as the tingling expands through his limbs and dances over old aches with a healing heat he feels shining inside. tear-stained cheeks twitch and another breath, he groans like someone who's been sitting too long and has to stand up and immediately walk.

"cas," he asks as he lets the weight of his head rest in cas's hand as sam's knees hit the floor on his opposite side. dean's grin is weak but it's still dean when he opens his eyes. cas's hand's covered with his palm and he quickly grips down hard. sam's got his arm around dean's chest like he's about to protect him from the grave should it rear it's ugly head and try to sink it's claws in again. steal dean away. he's too scared not to be wary.

dean's lungs fill with another breath and it gets exhaled in little panicked bubbles of air til he murmurs soft, "m'sorry.." no bravado. no jokes. no attempt to brush off what just happened. yet. because dean's shaken. dying was too brutally real and there and just around the corner. nah. no effort's made (maybe even in spite of every little crick in his body being gone)--he doesn't have the energy or willpower to make this anything else other than what it was. damn near the end of the road. gratitude's aimed towards jack with a buckle in his brow. jack only nods and smiles and goes to sam--a hand placed upon a broad back gets his attention and he nods at the door. sam, reluctantly, stands to follow--give cas and dean a moment.

"i'm sorry, cas," sam can hear dean's voice as his brother speaks up again--stronger but soft. the younger winchester steps out with one more glance over his shoulder. only to see how dean curls into cas letting the angel anchor him.

dean stares through tired eyes at the splatters of blood swung into focus. griping cas's wrist tight to keep him there. the hunter's not asking questions, not bounding up or calling after sam--he just needs a minute right where he is.

SAM RETURNS, but he doesn't bring help, no, he brings a fresh wave of panic that squeezes Castiel's throat shut because there's no signal, no first responder coming to their aid. Dean will die here. Castiel can feel it. They can't pull him off the rebar because he'd bleed out even quicker, but if he stays here without medical attention, he'll die, too. It's hopeless. He will die.

"I'm trying, I'm trying to heal him," Castiel whispers in despair. Can't Sam see that? Doesn't Sam know that there's no lick of grace in Castiel anymore? It's not working. No matter how hard he tries to gather a shred of divinity he might still have somewhere, it's not working. Dean's dying, and Castiel can't do anything but pray to a son who promised never to meddle.

And who breaks his promise?

Castiel gasps when he hears his name. Feels an unbelievable sense of calm and peace wash over him. He looks over his shoulder and blinks the tears away that cloud his vision. It really is him. Castiel doesn't doubt it for a second because he can practically taste the holiness spilling from Jack's every pore. He's here, he came; he isn't a cruel God watching from afar, gleefully taking in all the drama that's happening to his favorite characters. He's better than Chuck. Always has been.

"Jack," he murmurs, voice rough. There's only a short hesitation; then his hands slip off Dean's chest and face and he turns to look properly at his son. Hope blooms in his chest, raw and painful, because if that one gets crushed, he doesn't think he'll ever come back from it.

Castiel understands what Jack is offering at once. He won't break the promise he gave the brothers, but he's ready to give back what the Empty took from Castiel. Make him whole again. Will he accept it? His second time as a human has taught him a lot. He enjoyed being with Dean in a way he can't be when he's an angel. Have normal worries, normal problems. But he also missed his wings, his son, his grace. And if he doesn't heal Dean now, there's nothing to live for as a human, anyway.

Castiel's hands land on Jack's shoulders, fingers digging into the impossibly soft fabric of his jacket. Mouth opened, he breathes in divinity and holiness, the raw force of unbelievable power. It tastes of lava and ice and supernovae. Every cell of his body is consumed and remade at the same time, a constant shifting between life and death. Blue pupils disappear behind blinding gold as a new grace, a better grace, floods through his whole being. He can feel his wings unfurl behind him, unseen by the human eye: whole, unbroken, perfect yet again. His eyes, all 393.5 of them, open and look. See the world how he always saw it. See Jack in more than his flesh body.

When it's over, the barn seems as dark as the Empty. Thank you, is all Castiel can tell Jack. One hand briefly cups his son's cheek in gratitude and love before Castiel turns around again to push Sam away and get more room. One shoulder wedged under Dean's armpit, Castiel wraps his arm around him and pulls him off the rebar. Blood gushes over his fingers as he presses his palm to the deep wound, sending a sharp thrill of grace, more powerful than ever before, into Dean — healing not only that injury but every scrape, every bruise, every mosquito bite. "Dean," he murmurs as he gently, effortlessly, lays him out on the floor, propping him up with one hand.

#yeah okay this was damn near emotional murder on my own #feelings! i'm gonna need like sixteen happy threads now. or 20.#also.. three characters in one thread? equals big post.#oop.#featuring: castiel (qapsiel)#qapsiel #lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i)

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 3 years ago

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Book Worm and the Hunter

Requested by the lovely @leigh70, thank you again love!

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female!reader

Warnings: Lots of fluff, mild swearing, and more fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Thinking about turning this into a series. What do you all think? Comments/suggestions are always welcomed!!

Content would be the way I would describe my life. It isn’t horrible, which I feel like is all we can ask for, and it has its moments where happiness is the only emotion I seem to have. After losing my family to hunting, whether it be actual death or the inevitable spilt that seems to happen when one person hunts and the other doesn’t, I learned that I had to live like there was no tomorrow. To some people that might mean emptying the bank account and having a wild party. But for me, it meant following my passions in life and never letting the social norms get to me. Which I why I own a small hole in the wall book shop filled with any genre you could imagine. There was always something about getting lost in a book and losing sense of reality around you. It provides that small escape you might not know you even need. But what I find truly rewarding, is helping someone find their new favorite story. Some people might not understand the importance of a good book, but I know better. My family saved people from things that go bump in the night, but I save people from something far greater. Which is how I met my best friend Donna.

Years ago, we ran into each other in a coffee shop, literally ran into each other. Coffee went everywhere and I don’t think either of us could apologize quick enough. I was normally not one for small talk, never really knowing what to say. But Donna quickly launched into conversation and asked what I was reading. Two new coffees and a few hours later, it was like we had been friends for life. There were times our friendship was strained, like when she found out what is really lurking in the shadows, but we always managed to find our way back to each other. Even though I wasn’t too thrilled about her pursuing the hunter life, she of all people managed to separate them for the most part. Until she begged me to meet her friends.

To say she was happy would be severely understanding everything about her. If there was anything in this world I wish I could have, it would be a fraction of Donna’s cheerfulness. She could have the worst of days and still find the bright side in things. And that ray of sunshine is what put a smile on my face when she walked through the doors of my shop. “Hiya, Y/N. How’s it going?”

I gave her a wave, “Good as always. You?”

She leaned against the counter replying, “It’s been tater tots and lemon drops. I wanted to run something by you though.”

I raised my eyebrows at her to explain. “I have a few friends coming in town and I wanted you to meet them.”

I tilted my head to the side and studied her. She seemed like she was suppressing some of her excitement, or at least trying to. Her constant tapping of the fingers gave her away.

“And do these friends of yours have a name?”

She bit her lip when the names, “Sam and Dean” came out. I knew two different sides of the Winchesters. The one Donna constantly talked about which made them seem like pretty stand-up guys. And then the side the hunting world talked about. While it wasn’t necessarily a negative side, but I knew what being dedicated to hunting meant. Living to grow old with a family they loved wasn’t on their list of things to do. To each their own, I guess. But Donna was normally a good judge of character, so I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt and meet them with a clean, judgement free slate.

I could see my friend nearly bursting with anticipation at my answer. She knew my past and how I felt about hunters, but they seemed to have a piece of Donna’s heart. “When do they get in?”

Her happiness at that simple question had me playfully rolling my eyes at her. “Tonight! I was thinking we go grab a few drinks and if it’s really horrible then we can fake some sort of emergency!”

I don’t know how I managed to get a good of friend as Donna, but I was thanking the heavens for it. “Sounds good. I close up today around 7. I can meet you there if it isn’t far.”

She was already shaking her head. “No, no. We can meet here and all walk together. I wouldn’t want you to walk in the dark alone.” I nodded my head at her, and she said she would be back before closing.

The rest of the day went by quickly and before I knew it, I was closing up the store. The sound of the front door opening caused me to poke my head around the book shelf I was organizing. Two of the tallest men I have ever seen was standing in the doorway. “Sorry boys. Stores closed for the night.”

The tallest one offered me a smile. “Are you Y/N? Donna told us to meet here.”

Curse that girl for not getting here before them. I was already awkward on a good day. Maybe that emergency will come into play sooner than I thought. I forced myself to walk away from the safety of my books. “Yeah sure am. You must be Sam and Dean.”

The same guy offered his hand out for me to shake and it was nearly comical watching my hand completely disappear in his. “I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. It’s nice to finally meet you. Donna talks about you a lot.”

I chuckled, “She has told me all about the two of you as well.” I looked over to Dean and my breath caught in my throat. I don’t know if it was the millions of romance novels I’ve read, but this man was something from my dreams.

He caught me staring and smirked. “You work here?” Sam tried to cover up a laugh at his poor use of small talk.

“No, I felt like robbing the place of all its books. I just clearly underestimated how heavy they would be.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah I deserved that one.”

My smile came naturally and as bad as it sounds, I felt better knowing he was just as awkward as I was. “It’s my bookstore. Opened it quite a few years ago. It isn’t much but I enjoy what I do.”

Sam shook his head in awe at all the books. “It must be nice being surrounded by this all day.” I hummed in response and watched Dean venture deeper into the store. Despite telling myself to stop, my eyes seemed to follow the hunter wherever he went. He stopped suddenly and I nearly smacked myself in the face for forgetting what was in the furthest corner of my store.

“Are these books on lore?” That caught Sam’s attention and I sighed as both of the Winchester’s were now combing through my collection I managed to grow over the years.

“Well, I might not hunt like my family did, but I can at least help out here and there. Where do you think Donna got some of her information?” Sam laughed and I looked up to see Dean studying me. I couldn’t tell if it was a look of shock or admiration. For my own benefit, I chose the more positive of the two.

I nearly jumped as the front door banged open and my blonde friend was bent over trying to catch her breath. “You okay?”

The boys made their way back up front as I asked the question and Donna waved a hand at me. “You know, I do cross fit, but I don’t think I get in as much cardio as I should. I lost track of time and then my car wouldn’t work. So, I thought, what the H-E-double hockey sticks, I’ll have a nice jog there and reward myself with a drink. Woah buddy I was wrong. My lungs feel like they are going to burst any second.”

I put a hand over my mouth to hide the smile that was forming. Donna seemed to notice the boys for the first time and threw them into a hug. “Hiya fellas! It’s been too long.”

She looked over to me with an apologetic smile, “I see the three of you have met. How does a drink sound?”

Sam clapped his hands together, “Sounds great. We can catch up while you catch your breath.” Donna poked him in the side, and I grabbed my keys to lock the door behind us. Donna had her arm looped through Sam’s as they walked off, lost in conversation but Dean stayed back.

“You don’t have to wait on me. I won’t be long.”

He put his hands in his pockets and shook his head, “Too much cheerfulness for me.” I snorted at the comment and finished what I needed to do. The two of us started heading towards the bar in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Something about this handsome man beside me had me feeling safe.

“Donna said you aren’t too big on hunters.” That was one way to break the ice.

“I come from a complicated past like everyone else. But I knew the two of you have treated her right over the years and it was only fair to give you a chance. You both staying in town long?”

He glanced over at me and smiled, “Longer than what we were originally planning.” I wanted so bad to read into the look he gave me to match those words, but I wasn’t trying to break my own heart. I had only met the man a few minutes ago. Clearly, I needed to slow myself down and remind myself that this isn’t like one of my books.

Donna’s voice cut through my thoughts and waved us over to a table. “We got the first round of drinks while you two were walking slower than molasses.” I shook my head at her and sipped my drink. Dean said he saw a pool table and was going to make some quick cash. Sam followed behind him which left Donna and I at the table.

“What do you think of Dean?”

I took a longer sip this time to try and think of what to say. “He isn’t what I expected.”

Donna nodded her head, seeming to understand what i meant. "He is a little rough around the edges but honestly the best of us are. I know it isn’t your thing to randomly go to dinner with a guy you don’t know, but I think the two of you would hit it off. What do ya say? Wanna give it the ole college try?”

I glanced back over to the pool table and saw the green-eyed hunter looking at us. He gave me a wink and I felt my cheeks heat up. “I don’t even know if he’s into me.”

Donna squeezed my hand, “Sam said Dean was shy around you. That for him is a rare occurrence. Honestly, Y/N, you should just go for it. All he can do is say no and then you and I can sit around watching cheesy romance movies and eat ice cream out of the tub. But you know I would only eat the ice cream for you. So, you better feel special. I don’t think he would say no to you though! What’s not to like?”

She was right. I needed to get out of my comfort zone for once and what better way to do it than with a guy who isn’t staying in town long. “You’re right.” Donna squealed next to me causing both boys to look over at us. Sam said something to Dean that had him walking this way. I went to say something to my friend, but she was no where in sight.

Dean sat across the table from me and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Before I lose all of my confidence in this, I need to ask you something. I know the two of you aren’t staying for long, but I was wondering if we could get dinner before you left.”

I was biting my lip and staring at the table, afraid for his answer. A finger touched under my chin and lifted my head up to look at him. I was met with a warm smile, one I’m sure he didn’t use often, and a response of, “Sweetheart I would love to. I was actually coming over her to ask you myself after Sam told me to get my head out of my ass.” A blush covered my face which only made him smile bigger. “And I told you on the way here that we were staying longer than planned. It was because I wanted to get to know you more.”

My heart fluttered at his words, and I shook my head, “Dean Winchester you have no idea how happy you just made me.” Maybe love stories do come true.

Tag list: @winchestergypsy90

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction #spn edit #donna hanscum

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wormstacheangel · 3 years ago

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happy birthday @archervale I know I'm late but here is one of our many ideas! Hope you enjoy it <3

wc: 1.3k summary: Dean gives Cas a little kiss and it breaks the angel

Dean didn’t get much sleep last night considering the bed felt too big and empty without his boyf—Cas. They’re still relatively new—like 35 days since their big reunion confession—and Cas was a busy guy. Once again helping Heaven get their shit in order along with Jack. So he didn’t have time to stay the night and be a fucking pillow, not that Dean would ask him.

He already takes too much of his time with stupid shit like movie night or a long drive. The world didn’t need Dean Winchester to save it anymore but it sure as fuck still needed Castiel.

Dean sighed, dragging his feet to the kitchen, and wondering when would it be a good time to send Cas a little message like, “Hiya. When are you gonna come down from that cloud of yours so I can give you a stupid ki–no.” Dean cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his growing hair feeling embarrassed as he stepped foot into the kitchen doorway.

“I came down early this morning.” Dean looked up at the kitchen table when he heard the familiar voice. Cas was warming his hands with a large mug of coffee, one that read ‘Not today Satan’ that Dean had bought as a joke while smiling softly at Dean. His coat was off, folded up on the seat next to him, and his sleeves were pushed back. He looked so…so nice.

“What did you want to give me?” Cas asked, eyebrow raised in question.

Everything. “I um,” Dean cleared his throat again, pulling his robe closed as he walked in. Without really thinking, his mind was a complete mess with just wanting to touch Cas, he quickly walked over and pressed a kiss to Cas’ cheek.

Feeling the brush of stubble on his lips and the scent of fresh rain wash over him, he lingered for a bit. His hands wanted to grasp at the miracle in front of him but instead, he pulled away with a quiet, “Morning, Sunshine.”

And as quick as that action was, he turned on his feet and marched over to the fridge. “Now breakfast! Gotta get that done before Eileen comes in here. You thought I was grumpy in the morning! Ha!”

He got his phone out, an excuse to ignore whatever Cas was about to say or not, and played his music loud. Space Cowboy started to fill up the room before he started to crack the eggs.

Heat rose up his cheeks and not because of the burner in front of him.

They really haven't done much in the couple category, busy and all with the whole Empty situation and then the Heaven situation. Shit, Sam even goes down to hell to help Rowena with her Hell situations. Not to mention Jack even brought back Billie from the Empty to reprise her role as Death.

So many boxes to check out and that pushes their new relationship down on the priority list.

Though it was nice. Having their relationship on the list at all.

“Morning.” Dean hears the familiar yawn of his brother behind him. “Hey, Cas.” Sam walks over to look over Dean’s shoulder. “Are those the eggs I bought?”

“You mean that nasty fake egg crap? No.” Dean pointed with the spatula to a different covered pan. “I made those separately. Not even your girlfriend will eat those.”

Sam ignored most of his words and patted his shoulder. “Thanks!”

“This vegan crap can’t be healthy for you, Sammy! Humans need meat to survive.”

“You coming out to me again?”

That little shit. “I can still kick your ass.” Dean kicked Sam’s legs while he laughed and walked away to get the plates ready.

“Morning!” Eileen walked in and Dean turned to face her, signing ‘Morning’ right back. “What’s for breakfast?”

Dean showed her the pan and the side of sausages. “We also got toast!”

“Yum!” She grinned and helped set the plates up but not before kissing Sam’s shoulder.

It was so easy and simple for them. Dean wondered if he would ever get there with, “Cas! You just gonna sit there or do you want me to get you a plate?”

They all waited for an answer but nothing. No slight of the head tilt or nod. No thumbs up. Not even a sound.

“Yo! Earth to Cas!” Dean threw a piece of bread at him, positive that he would catch it with his restored angel mojo and all, but it only hit the back of his head. Dean flinched and quickly rushed over to check on him. “Shit!” He brushed the crumbs off his boyfriend’s head and shirt. “I’m sorry, man. Thought for sure you would-Cas?”

He leaned closer to get a glimpse of Cas’ far-away stare. His mug tilted as if to take a sip but he was frozen where he sat. Like a statue frozen in time.

A little worried, Dean waved a hand in front of Cas’ face. “Cas?” He was fine just a few minutes ago. “What the hell?”

“What's wrong with him?” Sam walked over to Cas’s other side and poked his shoulder.

Dean shrugged, reaching to take the mug away but it wouldn’t even budge. He knew if he used any more strength it would shatter. “I was just talking to him. You think an angel wire got loose in his head or something.”

“Don’t think that’s how that works.” Sam then turned when Eileen tugged at his shirt, asking what’s going on. While he gave the little information he knew to Eileen, Dean sent out a prayer out to the universe.

Hey, kid. Breakfast is ready. Also, think you can come down and check on your Dad. Love ya. Bye. He still didn’t know how to end those prayers but not a second later he heard a flutter of wings and saw a big bright smile.

With a hand raised in a greeting, “Good morning!” He walked over to Cas and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh!”

“Oh? What do you mean oh?”

Jack looked back at Dean with a smile. “Dad’s fine. He was just surprised. No need to worry.” He took the seat next to Castiel and his smile got brighter when he asked, “Can I have chocolate chip waffles?”

Now Dean’s wires are loose at those words.

“Surprised? What could have surprised him enough to make him so…still?” Eileen looked between them all but all eyes fell on Dean for an explanation but he had none.

“How am I supposed to know? He was fine one second and the next he was…” Dean felt heat rise up his neck and up to his ears. “I mean…it can’t be because of-no. No!” He chuckled nervously before shaking Cas’s shoulders again. “Hey! If you’re like this over a little kiss then I’m never doing it again!”

“A kiss!” Both Sam and Eileen say at the same time with a stupid teasing grin plasterd on their faces.

He ignored them and looked back at Cas. “Are you listening? I swear not even a fucking hug.”

And with that, Cas caught Dean’s stern glare. His bright eyes, round and sad. “That is cruel.”

Relief washed over him but didn’t last long when annoyance took over. “You scared that shit out of me! Don’t do that!”

“I apologize.” Cas set his mug down. A small twinkle of a smile tugs at his lips when his hand reaches to lay on the cheek Dean kissed earlier. “I was taken by surprise by that gesture. Very…unexpected. New.”

“Yeah. Well…get used to it.” Dean didn’t meet anybody's eyes when he turned towards the stove again. “Does anybody else want waffles? If not, I won't make a lot of batter.”

Just Jack got waffles and when they were done, and it was just the two of them in the kitchen cleaning the dishes, Cas reached over to kiss Dean’s cheek. Softly. Warmly. So filled with love that it made Dean shiver but Cas ignored it as he whispered, “You already gave me more than I ever hoped for.”

#wormstachewrites #destiel #fic #spn

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sweetwolfcupcake · 3 years ago

Text

The Forest: The Beginning

Yandere Namjoon x Reader

****

“The forest was vast, but smothering, not a ray of sunshine could penetrate the ominous grounds. It looked sad but menacing. And…GRRR!”

The little girl gasped and turned to her grandfather, eyes wide until he began to laugh- hearty, loud but warm.

She had been eyeing the woods all along while her grandfather recited to her one of the tales from the storybook he had gifted her for last Christmas.

She was perched up over the little space the window of her room offered along with it.

The window faced the woodland that surrounded her mother’s hometown. And the thick greens were separated by high walls and a rather narrow clearing around the town. Her grandparents’ home was nearest to the walls, offering her a closer view of the edge of the woodland.

“What are you looking at?” he asked when she turned to face the window once more

“The woods, it’s beautiful,” she replied, she turned to him once more “But you never take me there!”

“You are not old enough, Muffin.”

“But mother goes with you, I am old enough- I go to college!”

At this, the wrinkled man let out another hearty laugh “You go to college huh? Do you even know what it is?”

“Yes, Samantha goes to college, and she says that she is my friend, so I go to college too!” she asserted.

“Sam adores you so much, but she is much, much older, okay? So she can go there. But never alone. We never venture there alone, Muffin.”

(Y/N)(L/N) was a curious child, as curious as a five-year-old could be. And she had always had an eye for the forest surrounding the town. She did not ask further. Her grandfather would always say the same things- she was not old enough to accompany him and his group into the woods and that one must never venture alone.

------

And she should have listened to her grandfather.

“You know, it’s not far from here, we can even see the edge.” Michael stood with his toy gun, eyeing the tip of the tall trees visible. Other than that, mostly they could only see the towering walls.

The tree-tops appeared to be peeping from the walls.

Michael’s family resided in the next house, a little further from the looming walls. Michael was seven and faster than her. But he often burst into tears, and (Y/N) would be immediately worried. He cried so much and feared too many things. Even butterflies.

So the sudden burst of bravery confused her “Grandpa says we should—”

“Yeah, yeah, shouldn’t venture alone, barred from entering after sundown and crap. It’s summer anyway.”

“You aren’t afraid?” (Y/N) was curious now.

Her friend bit his lip and looked at her “You don’t want something to remember? You’re going back next week.”

She sighed and her lips fell into a pout “Yes– but this just—”

“Aren’t you curious too? I see how you look there. Besides, I need to prove ‘em that I’m not a coward.”

“You’re not. You killed that cockroach yesterday.”

“And I was screaming too. Do you know what they call me in class? Wimp. They call me a wimp!” he turned towards the forest. “We’ll go and get something from there- I’ll show ‘em all.”

“But Grandpa will find out.”

“He’s gone fishing with his mates.” Michael countered

“And Granny? Mom?”

“They won’t find out if we won’t let them.”

“And man guarding the gates?”

Michael looked at her, grinning. He was up to no good.

-----

(Y/N) knew that she had disobeyed the elders- it was wrong- but the closer she got towards the woods, the towering trees seemed to pull her nearer. There was something so sweet about the place. It seemed to lure her in, and she could not resist the urge to walk into the woods.

Michael always had something up his sleeve. (Y/N) did not even remember what he told the man guarding the gate, she had just moved along. And the moment he was out of sight, they had slipped out of the smaller door built with the massive iron gates.

And now, with the afternoon sun shining over their heads, they were rushing towards the forest. Her heart thundered more with excitement than the running.

As they crossed the clearing, she could see the woods. Even though the day was sunny and clear, the woods seemed…darker, it was misty within.

“It’s damp and cold there. How?” she questioned absentmindedly, still peering into the woods.

Nothing much was visible except the towering tree trunks, the trees were larger than any of the mountain trees she had ever seen.

“Must be the density, look at the mist there,” he commented

“Michael, we can’t see much.”

“Yea.” that was all that came out of his mouth.

They both had stood there for a few moments, she had expected birds singing and sunlight filtering into the woods- there was nothing- it was just…silence.

“What if we get lost, should we run back?” The sight of the woods still tingled her curiosity, but the darkness within was intimidating to the little girl.

“I have a compass. I just wanted to be quick with it. Come on, we won’t venture far.” he sighed and stepped in.

Spearing a glance behind, towards the walls of the town, (Y/N) quickly followed him in.

“Why is the compass not working?” Michael hissed. He had taken notice of it only after they had ventured far enough.

“You don’t even know how to read one.”

“I do, Dad taught me. You don’t.”

“But it’s not working and…and it’s cold and dark here.” (Y/N) whined, her curiosity was no more appealing, the prospect of getting lost in the dark, cold place daunted her.

“We can still see the clearing from here. We will get through this, okay? Let me just find—”

Snap!

Both the children gasped in unison and turned towards the source of the sound- nothing. It was silent, utterly silent for even the sound of a breaking twig to appear so loud.

Their eyes looked around frantically, the mist had seemed to thicken, nothing was visible.

“Michael…” she whispered out, reaching for her friend’s hand.

It was cold and shivering slightly, but his grip tightened. It did not feel right, they did not feel alone anymore.

“Michael…I don’t like it here anymore,” she whispered out to the frozen boy. She no longer felt like it was only two of them.

“Let’s just—”

His words were cut out by a low grunt and they froze, it was far from anything human they had heard in their short life and it felt too near.

Their breathing quickened.

And then, she saw it- the faint shadow of…Something.

Something massive and four-legged. And that was enough for both the children to scream and sprint away.

Neither of them let go of their grip on each other’s hand, Michael was faster and he was pulling her faster.

But she could feel it. The ground beneath them thrummed with the fast-approaching predator.

It was catching up on them and it was big and fast. But they did not stop running.

Yet, (Y/N) dared to turn back. It was already too late.

It lept in the air, pouncing through the mist and she screamed her lungs out.

**++**

She gasped and woke up. Her breathing was ragged and her forehead was glistening with sweat.

“Hey, Hey (Y/N), it was a nightmare, it was just a dream okay? Just a dream.” she turned towards her concerned roommate who had sat up and hand grasped her.

“Wha-What?”

“You were screaming, I woke up and realised that you were having a nightmare. Again.” Cindy’s voice was laced with concern with a hint of panic.

She had not even realised that she had actually screamed. But the nightmare felt so real…She thought they had stopped, they never did. It would always be regarding the forest, she and Michael getting inside and something following them. The nightmares returned soon after her twenty-first birthday

“It was the same?”

She remained silent at Cindy’s question. The said girl began to rub her shoulders.

“You know it wasn’t your fault right? You both were just kids—”

“And we had been warned so many times to not go there. And yet we did. I could have stopped him, I should have.” she felt her throat closing up and her eyes stinging.

She did not even remember what was chasing them, but it felt nowhere near friendly. All she remembered was screaming as loud as she could and shutting her eyes tight.

And the next time she opened her eyes, she was sitting, hunched over, head between her knees, terrified- that was how her grandfather and the group with him found her.

There was no trace of Michael.

It was just her, with lapsed memory and a lifelong invisible but throbbing scar.

“(Y/N), you have to stop blaming yourself. Please, it was not your fault.” she looked up at Cindy, realising that tears were already tracing her cheeks.

She had no one to blame but herself for the tragedy. She had not returned to the town since. It was her grandparents visiting her after the incident.

But now, they were waning as well. And deep down, (Y/N) knew that returning to the town and having to face Michael’s parents was inevitable.

****

#yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere namjoon #namjoon yandere #yandere ceature #yandere bts x reader #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere rm

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stuckyonbucky · 2 months ago

Text

Sorry this reply is going to be long but I also need to talk about this. Here is my take based on how I played the game (I didn't sleep with Black Bartosch):

I think Henry fell first but Hans fell harder.

I'm not sure if he realised it for what it was but I think Henry's feelings were cemented in that single moment when the noose was removed from Hans' neck and he knew he was going to be ok. That's the first instance we get the 'romance' dialogue option. Their banter on the way to Nebakov is so light and happy, Henry is showering Hans with compliments. It feels like Henry is looking at Hans like he's pure sunshine and I think it's then he really is like 'I would do anything and everything to have Hans this happy and safe always'. He's absolutely gushing at Nebakov, fighting for Hans' honour, talking about he's one of the most significant nobles in Bohemia (Henry, we all love Hans too but that's a bit of an exaggeration), that little convo with the blacksmith about how he has Hans beside him in life and that's all he needs… the boy is down bad. And from here on out, Hans seems to become a singular priority to Henry.

And I think it happened for Hans when Henry rescues him from Maleshov. He knew everyone else was willing to just let him remain a hostage because his life technically wasn't in danger but then here comes Henry, single-handedly sneaking into the fortress to break him out at extreme risk to his own life if he had been caught. Henry telling him 'I won't allow anything to happen to you'. And then they're immediately separated again and a bunch of stuff happens - the engagement, Henry leaving with Sam to help the people in the Jewish Quarter in Kuttenberg. When they're finally properly reunited again Hans sounds so happy and relieved and we get some of the most affectionate dialogue from Hans in the whole game (apart from the romance scene). He straight up tells Henry how worried he was, that he literally prayed for Henry to be watched over and protected, he vows to Henry that he would also risk his life to save him if anything were to happen, and he stole Jobst's bow to give to Henry because he felt he was the one worthy of it.

I think by the time we get to the Italian Job mission, they are both aware that their feelings go beyond simply being a Lord and his bodyguard who are also legitimately friends, but neither thinks those feelings are reciprocated. Those next two romance dialogue options definitely feel like Henry is trying to subtly clue Hans in and Hans replies the way he does because he thinks Henry couldn't possibly mean it that way. I think this when they are both wrestling with some guilt, shame, confusion, fear - neither wants to cross that line, say anything definitive, potentially ruin the most important relationship in their life. And maybe even for Henry there is a little fear of his own life being potentially endangered. For Hans, if Henry didn't feel the same way and had a bad reaction to it there's really nothing he could do. Hans is a noble. For him it might be more of a scandal, something to be hushed up. Confess your sin, marry Jitka, send Henry away. But for Henry, if Hans had a bad reaction he could be ostracized or even executed. Much easier to just keep things the way they have been. Shove the feelings down. Ignore.

The siege is the first time since Rocktower Pond that the two are together for any extended period of time. Their lives are in constant danger, they are literally starving, they have nothing else to do in those moments between fighting but reflect. I think this is when Hans begins ruminating on the Lancelot and Galehaut story and applying it to himself and Henry. Hans knows he's in love with Henry. He's fully accepted it. No denying. Henry, on the other hand, I think is still refusing to acknowledge his feelings completely. He doesn't want to put a name to them. He still needs that plausible deniability.

That moment where he promises Hans he will come back, and places his hand on his, you can see him look down at their hands and blink a bunch - like he realises he's being too forward. He's getting dangerously close to crossing that line. Now he has to get up, put some physical distance between them, put some distance between himself and his feelings, leave the room. But Hans doesn't let him. Hans acts.

But WHEN was the feelings realisation??? KCD1? Trosky?? Nebakov??? Three seconds after the kiss??? Who fell first who fell harder

#hansry #kcd2 #hans capon #henry of skalitz #these two have completely rotted my brain help

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romanarose · 3 years ago

Text

Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: Chapter 14

Masterlist here

Chapter 13 : Chapter 15

Marc Spector X Fem!OC

This is a part of an ongoing story, but you can read as a separate fic using context clues.

Fic Summary: Steven meets Sam and they strike up a quick relationship, both kindhearted and loving, they fall fast. But both have a lot going on. Steven had Marc and Moon Knight, and Sam has mental health problems of her own. Slowly, Steven starts to put together pieces of her story as Sam starts to get to know Marc and Jake. The four of them learn to navigate Sam's depression, family, and traumatic past as Sam helps Steven Marc and Jake navigate each other.

Chapter summary: Sam has something important to tell Marc, Steven leaves for the evening to give them privacy. Antics ensue lol

Chapter warnings: SMUT!!! Finally, we get good Marc content. P in V sex, ass smacking, dirty talk, choking, general rough sex and manhandling stuff.

Bold is Steven's thoughts

Italics are Marcs

No Jake this chapter but I promise more Jake is coming

Marc, you have to promise to behave. Steven was walking the stairs to Sam’s apartment, where she was going to surprise Marc with dinner. It was a friday night, which they almost always spent together.

God, what are you talking about now

We’re going to Sam’s and I’m gonna leave

What? Why? Isn’t she supposed to be at work? It’s only 5.

Listen, it’s supposed to be a surprise, but she’s cooking you dinner, she wants to talk. Jess is covering her afternoon and she skipped her last class to prepare this.

Why would she do that? What the fuck does she want to talk about?

Christ Marc, why do you have to be such a cock? It’s not bad

Then tell me what it is!

Marc just be nice. She skipped class right before finals, you don’t have to… ugh I can’t tell you what it’s all about but you just have to be nice, you don’t have go reciprocate, but don’t be a fucking dick. I don’t want a repeat of the scarf incident.

Jesus, are you still mad about that?

Am I still mad about my loving girlfriend making you a scarf and you throwing it in her face? Yeah, I am

For fucks sake Steven I didn’t throw it in her face

You may as well have. They arrived at her door Now come to the front

No, not when you guys are ambushing me.

We’re not!- ugh. Steven calmed himself Can you please just front? I’ll leave the headspace but I’ll come out if you need me, okay?

Marc sighed mentally Fine. Don’t be far.

I won’t

Marc fronted and gave himself a few breaths before knocking

“Come in!!” He heard Sam call from the inside. He recognized the tinge in her voice; she was nervous too.

Marc took one more deep breath and walked in. There she was, standing with the table in front of her, wearing a red dress and black tights (her favorite color combo). Her face was smiling, but the crease between her eyebrows was a dead give away how anxious she was. Sam’s face was all done up, so was her hair, curled into ringlets that went past the neckline of the dress that showed far too little cleavage. He loved her face as god made it, but something about when she wore dark red lipstick… Man, that drove him crazy. Did she know that? Was that on purpose?

“Hey” she squeeked out nervously, trying so hard to be casual.

Marc took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him “Hey Brightside… what is this” he circled the table. Was that Challah? “Sam, what’s going on?”

Marc noticed as soon as her breathing picked up “Oh god, this is weird, isn’t it? I knew it was weird the whole time I was making this.”

“Sam, it’s not weird… what exactly is it?” Red wine was on the table.

Sam wrung her hands together “Well… I wanted to talk to you so I decided to make you dinner for it and then I thought… well… it’s friday… oh god this is probably super inappropriate huh?”

“Is this…” he glanced at the table, then at her “Did you make me Shabbat dinner?”

“I mean, not really, I’m not Jewish… I just looked up traditional foods and made some kosher stuff… Well as Kosher as I could get… It started with the Challah and I just dove into it and next thing I knew… It was a whole thing…” She looked like she could burst into tears “I’m sorry if this isn’t something I’m supposed to be doing or if you don’t like it-”

“How long did this take you?”

“It’s nothing I just… I was hoping we could talk?” she pulled back a bit.

“Yeah, yeah of course… Are you okay?”

She finally smiled again “Yeah, I’m great, Starlight… There’s just something I wanted to tell you and I wasn’t sure when the right time was and I wasn’t sure how you’d react”

Marc thought of the scarf and how hurt she looked when he rejected the gift. “What is it?” he was feeling anxious, she said nothing was wrong, but he wasn’t sure he believed her

“Well, you and I have been spending a lot of time together, sometimes without Steven and I really love seeing you-” Sam started rambling.

What the hell is she talking about? I’ve been an ass to her.

“And I remember you coming to get me from the bar, and us dancing to Mr. Brightside-”

Oh god, she remembers that

“And the way you dipped me and… and we kissed-”

She’s mad about that, I should’ve never let her kiss me drunk

“I think about that kiss a lot, I’ve been thinking about it all week, I want… I’ve wanted to kiss you again…”

What? She wants to kiss me?

“I think about you all the time, Marc-”

This is all wrong

“I love you” Marc blurted out, hardly believing he let it slip “Shit, sorry I wasn’t supposed to say that…” Marc began panicking. No, no backtrack you idiot. Take it back, you’re all wrong for her.

“You love me?” Sam couldn’t help but notice how much this scene mirrored her and Steven saying I love you the first time.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry, I’ll go, I’m sorry” Marc started pacing the room “This is all wrong, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he tugged at his hair with his right hand, but Sam grabbed his left, forcing him to look at her.

“Starlight, whatever could you be sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have said that, Steven’s gonna kill me, I-”

“I love you too” She looked at him with a mix of love and concern.

Marc pulled his hand away, shutting his eyes. “No, don’t say that” he whispered.

“Why” she seemed so small, so quiet.

“I’m wrong for you. Steven is what you need, not me” he was squeezing his eyes closed, begging for this to all go away.

“I need both of you”

“No, no you don’t I will only hurt you, I hurt everything I touch…” Marc opened his eyes finally, as he echoed the words Steven had said to him when Marc first began revealing himself.

“No, you don’t Marc” Sam took his face in her hands, focusing him, grounding him.

He looked into her eyes, bright and blue, she looked so innocent, he couldn’t stand if he took that spark out of her eyes “You don’t want any part of this…”

Sam wanted to kiss him on his full lips, but opted to pull him in for a hug, arms wrapping around his wide center “I want every part of this. Do you know why I call you Starlight?”

He returned the hug. He knew he should pull away, but didn’t “No…”

“Steven is my Sunshine, that’s obvious. He’s like a golden retriever. He lights up my day. But days can’t last forever. Sometimes things get dark. But in the dark, there's always the light from the stars. It doesn’t take away the dark, but that’s not the point of the stars. The point is to guide, to orient. And that’s you. When things are dark, you are there to guide me. You are my star light, and I love you…”

“I don’t want to hurt you” he tugged her tighter.

“I know baby, I know. I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“You could never hurt me”

“People hurt people. It happens. We can work through each other’s problems, it’ll be ok… I just want to be with you. I want to hold you, to kiss you, protect you” She wanted to protect him? No one had ever said they wanted to protect him before…

Marc, despite his best efforts, felt himself getting hard. He tried to pull his hips away, but he didn’t want to end the hug.

“I will keep you safe, Brightside, I promise. No one will hurt you under my watch.” He stroked her hair, his other hand tracing her back “I just want you to be happy…”

“I want to spend my life making you smile…” Sam felt him growing hard as their bodies were pressed against each other “Marc…” She pulled her upper torso back, smirking at him “Love, are you getting hard at emotional intimacy?”

Marc laughed softly and touched his forehead to hers “Maybe…shhh” he wrapped a hand into her hair, tangled up in red, to take her into a kiss.

When their lips clashed together, Sam knew immediately that despite sharing a body with her beloved Steven, he felt different. How that was possible, she didn’t know. Steven was passionate, Marc was desperate. He kissed her like she would disappear, like she was pleading with her to stay, god she wanted him. He pulled her closer, hand running through her body, trying to feel every bit of her at once. The hand in her hair tightened, pulling at her scalp as she lowered her hand to grab his ass. God, he really was thick everywhere “Fuck, what are you doing with all that ass”

“I could ask you the same thing” Marc chuckled, smacking Sam’s butt.

Sam ground her hips against his at the feeling of the smack, she hoped that would continue tonight. She moved to his pants and started fumbling with the belt, but he stopped her, grabbing her hands.

“Ah, ah, ah. We gotta have dinner first”

Sam whined “Noooo”

Marc pulled back, fixing her hair and smoothing out her dress as she pouted at him, lip jutting out “You prepared this thoughtful meal, we’re going to eat it.” He walked behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her, swaying her a bit “Just think about all the things you want me to do to you, consider it foreplay” He let go, and pulled out a chair for her.

Sam sat down, squirming against the chair as Marc pushed it back in “Hell of some fucking foreplay…” she muttered.

The dinner was thick with tension. Marc kept the conversation going, despite the straining in his pants growing. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her… He wondered what she would let him do. It occurred to him that she might not have liked when he smacked her ass, given her past… she didn’t seem to mind though... Marc made a mental note to make sure to ask her.

The dinner was delicious. Marc was genuinely touched by the effort she went through to make something resembling Shabbat dinner. Of course, memories were brought back, memories of his childhood, his mom, his dad, the synagogue, Randel… But for some reason, the memories were good. That’s what she did to him. She always looked on the bright side of things despite everything life had thrown at her. Marc supposed it was infectious. And god, the way she was eyeing him all night… The way she would look at him, bite her lips and wiggle in her chair… he knew she was thinking of him, thinking of him taking her… I’m gonna take real good care of her… This is going to be everything she needs… I gotta make sure she’s happy…

When diner ended, Marc took his plate and walked around to get hers, the look she gave him was pleading. He liked teasing her like this, making her squirm. He did the dishes for her as she leaned against her counter “Marc, please…”

“Please what?” he teased as he put the last dish away, even as his cock was aching for her.

“Please fuck me” She asserted.

He stared at her, open mouthed. Well, how was he supposed to refuse her?

Marc sped around the counter, yanking her to him, bruising his lips in the kiss, and even more so when she bit his lower lip.

“Tell me” he muttered into her neck as he kissed along her collar bone, hand floating up to her breasts “Tell me how you want it”

“I want” a gasp “I want you to do whatever you want to my body”

Marc growled, the things I want to do… but he needed more “That’s not gonna work, I need you to tell me…”

“I want…” Sam wriggled in his arms, catholic guilt stopping her from saying what she wants.

Marc’s tone softened “I don’t want to hurt you or do something you don’t want… I need you to be clear, because the things I want…”

Sam cupped both of his ass cheeks in her hands “I want what you want, I want this to be good for you… ” She spoke between kisses along his jawline.

Marc looked at her, concentrating on her features “Love, this will be good for me, no matter what. Just you is enough” A deep kiss on the lips.

“I want… Oh god this is awkward…” She cringed “I want you to be rough… I want you to manhandle me and… I liked when you spanked me…” she winced, but smiled.

Marc smiled back broadly “That’s what I want too… Are there things you don’t want? I don’t want to hurt you… Well, I don’t want to hurt you in a way you don’t want” he winked.

Sam giggled, hiding her face in his chest “Sorry, I’m so awkward about this…”

“It’s okay brightside, it’s okay”

“I don’t really have anything I don’t want… besides what I told Steven, do you remember?”

“Yes, of course”

“I wouldn’t really know what else I don’t like… Can we, how about I just tell you if I want you to stop?”

Marc pulled her off his chest, holding her chin in his hands “Of course, you tell me if you don’t like something, okay?”

“Okay. Now please” She grabbed his shirt tightly, staring into his chocolate eyes with wide-eyed passion. “Fuck me, Marc Spector”

He moved close to her ear “I thought you’d never ask, Brightside.” Without any warning, Marc turned Sam around and shoved her over the couch, lifting up her red skirt and smacking her right ass cheek, hard.

“Ah! Harder, please” Sam begged

Marc obliged, hitting her harder and making her cry out, he soothes the red spot over. “Too hard?” His tone was light, but the question was genuine.

“It’s perfect” Sam squirmed her legs together, which gave Marc a front view of her ass moving in front of him, red underwear still covered in the mesh of her tights.

“Fuck, fuck baby…” Marc couldn’t take it anymore, he grabbed two fistfull of her tights and ripped the tights open.

“Marc!” Sam cried out.

Marc knelt down beneath where she was bent over “I’ll buy you new ones” he grumbled, moving one of the legs up to the couch to allow him access. He dove in, burying his face into her crotch, slipping a finger into her vagina and sucking on her over the underwear. Sam gripped the cloth on her couch, trying to keep herself up right but her leg was growing weak under the pleasure flowing through her. “Marc, fuck, just like that.” He ate her like a starved man, like it was his last meal on death row, Sam gripped out the couch as she was devoured, the stubble rubbing against her thighs. Marc moved a finger to swirl over her clit

. He worshiped at the shrine of her, kneeling, praying to the goddess that was above him. The only thing compelling him to change positions was that he needed to see her face, feel her body, and pull that beautiful auburn hair.

“MARC! Marc, fuck, I’m so close already” dinner really was forplay.

He loved the sound of his name on her red lips “Not yet” Marc removed his mouth from her, making Sam whine.

“Marc please!” She pleaded, rutting against the couch, slipping a hand down to bring herself her own release.

Marc grabbed the hand, and put it behind her lower back, holding it there “You don’t get to get off that easy” He released his throbbing cock from the restraints of his pants “You don’t cum until I say you can, okay?”

“Okay” Sam groaned as Marc moved aside her underwear.

“Can you say ‘Yes sir’?” He lined himself up at her entrance, teasing her hole with the head.

“Mmmmm” Sam wiggled her hips against him, trying to get some sort of feeling.

Marc pressed the hand that was behind her back into her, holding her hips to the couch “Use your words.” He continued to tease her, dipping ever so slightly into her, feeling the wetness. He unzipped the back of her dress, giving her more room to breathe.

“Yes sir!” She cried out.

“Good girl” Marc muttered, ramming his cock into her, making her scream his name loud enough the neighbors probably heard. Good He thought. He let her hand go, and used it to brace himself against the couch, as the other moved to trace around her neck. “Can I choke you?” He asked gently “You can say no” He was ramming hard into her, hitting the spot deep inside her.

“Please” Sam said through pants.

Permission granted, Marc reached out and took her throat in his hand, squeezing along the sides. He was careful not to hurt her and not to actually make it hard to breath, but when she thrust her head back Marc saw a smile.

He drew his free hand back and smacked her again, hard. And he felt her body jolt forward from the pain. He watched her body, bent over the couch in the red dress raised up for him as he disappeared into her. He ran his handover her body: fingers entagnled in her hair, squeezing her tits, holding onto her hips. He had to know she was real, this couldn’t be a dream, not again. It felt like a dream. He knew he wasn’t watching Steven, no, Steven would never have her like this. But it didn’t stop him from doubting his eyes. It didn’t make sense, and yet, here she was. Bent over in front of him, her cute skirt riding up her ass, watching himself fuck her. “You like this baby? You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-yes sir” She mumbled.

Marc grinned, she was being fucked so dumb she couldn’t hardly put two words together, all because of him.

He pulled out of her, leaving Sam empty again. Before she had a chance to orient herself he pulled her to the bed, shoving her down on the comforter. Marc knelt down, ripping her weak underwear in his large hands, making her gasp “You gonna buy, hmmm, me new underwear too?” Sam teased as she felt him grip her thighs with a force that would surely leave bruises.

Marc was mesmerized at the sight of her cunt dripping for him “Baby, whatever I need to buy to get another night like this… I’ll do it” He slid two fingers inside her.

She laughed, entangling her fingers in his dark hair. “Just underwear will do.”

Marc wasn’t hardly paying attention “I’m gonna buy you so much fucking underwear”

When Sam felt his mouth go to her clit as his fingers worked inside her, she threw her head back and swore. Marc worked his hands and tongue against her, occasionally curling his finger up just to feel her hips buck when he hit that right spot.

“MARC!” Sam called out.

“Not yet, don’t fucking come yet” He muttered underneath her.

She writhed against the comforter, attempting to hold back the orgasm.

Marc came up, climbing onto of her to bring her in for a wet his, tasting herself on his lips. Marc assisted Sam in getting out of the dress, then the bra, taking her tits in his mouth as soon as he saw them. He swirled her tongue around the nipple, Sam rubbing Marc’s naked back in encouragement. He kissed down to her stomach, gripping her sides as he focused his mouth on the part of her body he knew she was insecure about. “So sexy…” He kissed around her belly button, to her hip bones, giving a gentle bite at her right love handle, giving the left side a squeeze.

Her hands were in his hair as she whispered “What are you doing?”

He looked up at her briefly before he sucked right below the stomach, hoping to leave marks on the sensitive, pale skin. “Appreciating every inch of you.” He moved over her, kissing on the scars on her thighs.

Sam felt her heart swell at the intimacy, how he loved the parts of her she hated.

He kissed his way back up her body and cupped her face as he kissed her again, sucking on her tongue before he pulled away and smacked her tit. “Hands and knees, Brightside” Marc thought Steven did not take her like this nearly enough. Steven said he liked to see her face. Marc liked having her submit to him.

“Yes sir” Sam did as she was told and scrambled to her knees, facing away from him.

“You behave, and I’ll let you come, Okay? Can you do that?”

A small whine “Yes sir.”

Marc took a moment to marvel at the sight of her ass before him, caressing her, memorizing her. He couldn’t help himself, he bit down on her right cheek, hard. Sam screamed into the pillow. Marc went back to work, fucking her until sweat dripped down his face “Fuck, you feel so good, you’re taking me so well. I love the feeling of your tight cunt around me, the little sounds that come out of your mouth, you’re so fucking good, I just want to ruin you.”

“So ruin me” tears were brimming in her eyes.

Marc growled loudly, shoving her face into the pillow by her neck. When he released her so she could breath and she pushed herself up onto her arms, he smacked her tits as he pounded her. The sounds coming from between them were sinful; the pants from his mouth, the whines from hers and the wet squish from her cunt, god, he just wanted to imprint everything into his memory.

“You’re doing so good, such a pretty girl, such a good, pretty girl… Doing fucking amazing for me…” He took her hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling her head up.

“Marc…” she whimpered “F-fuck baby, you feel so good”

Marc gripped her hips with a force, pulling her to meet his thrusts. He briefly thumbed over the indents her scars left on her body, he just wanted her to feel good, he wanted to make her feel good. “Are you ready to come for me?”

Sam nodded vigorously “Please, please let me come, please I’ve been waiting for this for months baby”

Another hard slap to her ass, then he reached around to play with the bundle of nerves right above where he was hitting, he leaned his sweaty body over her and put his face close to her ear “Come for me, Brightside.”

When the orgasm finally wracked through her body, Sam collapsed onto the bed. Marc adjusted his angle to keep fucking her, until he got his release. Sam didn’t even notice, too blissed out, her arms and legs were spread across the bed as the intense orgasm flowed through her. She felt like she was aware of every vein in her body, but somehow unaware of anything farther than the pillow she was on. Everything seemed so blurry, so peaceful. When she came to, it was to a warm washcloth on her back. Marc wiped her down, ending with cleaning her vagina of his come.

Sam turned over on to her side, looking up at the man she loved. “Can you lay with me for a while? I gotta do some homework in a bit, but I want to just… be with you… please?”

“Of course, my love… Of course...” Marc laid down beside her, encasing his body around hers and tracing around her curves. He tried not to linger on the scars, he didn't want her to think he was staring at them, but he was. Some were so thick, some left indents and some were raised. Some were pink circles from the newer burns, and some were white circles whose scars pulled in the skin around them. The cuts were concentrated heavily at her upper thighs, closer to her hips but worked their way up. Marc ran the pads of his fingers over her stomach, feeling the scars etched in. He held back a wince imagining how badly that would've hurt. He imagined a young Sam, hurt and alone and scared, he knew that pain. It hurt him to think she was ever sad enough hurt herself, it angered him to think of every man that ever hurt her. He wanted to make her dad pay, he wanted to make Jordan pay. He wanted to make them suffer.

After a while of silence, Sam spoke “Marc?”

Marc snapped out of his anger, focusing instead on the woman in his arms. “Yes?” He was playing with an auburn curl.

“Can I ask you something, and you can’t laugh at me or make fun of me…”

Oh no “Of course not, what’s wrong?” Marc leaned over to look at her, but she was staring at a Bruce Springsteen poster on the wall.

“You don’t think I’m… well, you like the way I look, don’t you?”

Mark sat up now, attempting to get her eye. “Of course I do. Whatever made you think I don’t? Did I say something?”

Still looking away, she answered “No, Starlight, you didn’t say anything, it’s just… sometimes I need reassurance… I feel your hands on my fat and I feel weird… I worried that once you had me, you’d realize I didn’t live up to expectations and… wouldn’t be attracted anymore”

“Baby… First of all, I’ve seen you naked countless times, I was already in love with how you look… And my hands are on your body because I love your body… I love every curve, your long legs, your tits, your pretty face, your blue eyes, the red in your hair… I love everything about how you look because it’s you. If anything changed, I would love that too, because I love what's in here” He tapped her head.

“Even when I’m a depressed mess?” she finally looked at him.

Marc chose his next words carefully “Not that I want you to be depressed, but I gotta say that fact that you are as incredible as you are all while fighting your brain… well that just endears you to me more.”

She smiled a little bit, looking at him with adoration. “That’s why you’re my Starlight”

Marc kissed her forehead “Take a nap, I’ll wake you in a bit to work on your homework.”

Marc stayed true to his word, waking Sam after she got half an hour of sleep. He wanted to watch her sleep forever, she deserved to rest, but he didn’t know how much she had to do. What’s that song? The one from that one movie with the chick from Lord of the Rings? “I could stay awake just to hear you breathing, feeling your heart beating while you’re far away dreaming” He hoped that if she dreamt, it was only good dreams. She sat up in her bed and asked Marc to hand her a shirt, he grabbed the one he had been wearing when he came over. Sam was finishing the final essay for her Preschool Practicum class, and she asked Marc to proofread after she had gone through a few rounds.

Marc was hesitant. “You sure you want me to look at it? Isn’t Steven better suited for this?”

“I’m spending the day with you, Marc. You are just as capable of picking up grammar mistakes as Steven is.”

“I don’t know about that… What if I change something to something wrong.” Marc muttered as he picked up the laptop.

Sam took Marc’s face in her hand and turned it towards her “Marc, honey. You are very smart. Just because you can’t list every single Egyption pharaoh doesn’t mean you aren’t smart. Okay?”

Marc wanted to fight her, he wanted to shrug off the compliment with a joke or argue it. But she looked at him with so much love and sincerity… he couldn’t help but almost believe her. “Okay.”

Sam hugged him, it was a small, quick, and awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless. He would never tell her what the hugs meant. He wouldn’t want them to become diluted into something she just did because he liked it. No, he wanted them to come from her. He would never tell her how such a chaste, innocent, wholesome act melted his heart or how he felt like little pieces of himself came together with each one. No, no she wouldn’t know that. But every time she hugged him, he wanted to stay like that forever.

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHOSE BEEN INTERACTING!!! I seem to get less and less interaction which makes me sad, but I have a story to tell and I will tell it! Reblogs really help a LOT! Tumblr doesn't really have an algorithim so reblogs (with or without tags) are the best way to spread my work! comments mean the world to me!! I literally get so hyped every time! I'm glad y'all seem to really like Sam as a character. I don't mind doing reader fics but I can't stand Y/N. I like my characters to be real characters, not just a blank slate.

Comment if you'd like to be added to ttag list!

I'm working on a one shot request for Moon Knight, I'd like to get more one shots going but between this fic, my Han solo fic on AO3 and really wanted to get another Bruce Springsteen fic out per a request, I got a lot to do and I'm moving to college soon!

@ahookedheroespureheart @cherryvalentine1 @kr-mlk

#moon knight #moon knight fluff #moon knight smut #marc spector smut #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fluff #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector needs a hug #Marc spector x reader #sunshine starlight sweetheart brightside

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atlaese · 4 years ago

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Healing wounds - b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader TW: fatws spoilers? cussing, injuries etc A/N: i was listening to Hypochondriac by Sasha Sloan and man it hit me HARD!! Anyway, enjoy :)

MARVEL MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

The ritual had started when he had injured his right arm, making it difficult to clean the muck that stuck between the vibranium plates of his left arm. He had struggled to reach further than his elbow, not being able to reach that far. A deep sigh had left his mouth, frustrated with the fact that his arm would probably short-circuit, cause a shit ton of pain and he’d have to contact Shuri again so she could fix it. He hated having to depend on other people as is, but this high tech arm made it all the more difficult.

When you first came into the picture, he never mentioned the hassle of cleaning the arm after a mission. He figured it was best to not bother you with situations that alluded to his rather complicated past. This relationship had to stand free of his history, free of all the stuff he did. He didn’t want to pollute you with the dark thoughts that shot through his head every time the lights shut off in his bedroom or when loud sounds on the tv gave him anxiety. You had to be this separate entity in his life, that when he looked at you, he was a new person without a past filled with too much baggage one person could barely handle.

After Steve had left, he had dropped into this deep pit of despair. He didn’t know who he was anymore, his identity altered every time his mind had been wiped. It resulted in him completely losing every sense of who he was. You were this ray of sunshine the first time he met you. His dark presence was the polar opposite of your personality that was filled with a million different colours. Every time after that, a little bit of your colours started seeping into his monotone personality. You made him a person again, someone who was worthy to live life again. He started to take care of himself again, cut his hair and trimmed his beard.

The first time he dared to take off his gloves was after you’d kissed him for the first time. You had looked at it for a second, but your eyes then shifted to his again, slowly intertwining your digits with his metal ones. The gesture felt more intimate than the kiss you’d given him minutes before and he felt himself being put together piece by piece.

He slowly let you into his life, giving you bits and pieces of himself and he fell in love with you, the way you never judged anything that came out of his mouth or when he was in an emotionless state after a memory had made it’s way back. You were always patient and loving even when he was not.

He started telling you about the missions he sometimes went on, he opened up about his history with Steve and he’d tell you about Sam and the shield. You grew closer and depended on each other. You had never cared this much about someone before, but you still felt that he was hiding something from you.

So when the knocking on his door grew more and more impatient, he knew he’d have to tell you about what happened. He opened the door and the look on your face shifted from angry to worry in an instant when you scanned his face. Cuts and bruises littered his face and even more disappeared under the white tank he wore. His right arm had a few deep cuts, the knife yielding psycho that attacked him knew this arm was more vulnerable thus deciding to focus all his force on it.

“Oh Buck,” you croaked, all anger that had pent up immediately leaving your body. You had made him promise you to call you after every mission, whether he’d return at 5 in the morning or 10 at night. You needed to know he was okay and safe at home. When he hadn’t called after this mission and wasn’t picking up his phone and it was already 10 in the morning and he promised it wouldn’t be later than 6 am, you decided to go over to his apartment.

He looked down at his shoes, refusing to meet your eyes. You weren’t supposed to see him like this, like an inhuman machine made for killing, like who he used to be, like the winter soldier. He had tried so hard to erase this image, to make sure he had cleaned himself up before calling you, but here you were.

The bloody rag in his right hand and the deep cuts captured your attention, a small sob leaving your lips.

“You’re not okay,” you whimpered as you stepped closer and he immediately took a step back, avoiding the hand you were stretching out.

“Please, don’t, I’m- I don’t want you to see me like this.” He was still avoiding your eyes, hiding the rag behind his back.

“Bucky, I-I don’t understand? You’re hurt,” you grabbed his right wrist and carefully turned his arm so you could see better.

He wanted to pull away, but when he finally looked up at your face, he saw how much it hurt you as well, that he hid this part of his life.

“I’m sorry,” the strained noise left his mouth as he tried his best to keep in the tears that were threatening to spill.

“No, no, no,” you shook your head repeatedly, “please-, please let me help you.”

He finally nodded after a few seconds. You closed the door behind you and softly grabbed his right hand to pull him towards the bathroom.

He stood in front of the mirror and tried to clean his left shoulder again when a hiss left his mouth again.

“Bucky, please,” you begged and motioned towards the bathtub and he sat down. You pulled the dirty rag out of his hands and tossed it in the trash, opening his cupboard to grab a clean towel.

You sat next to him on the tub and looked at his face, softly whispering, “tell me if it hurts, okay?”

He nodded and looked down at his feet again.

You started at the plates on his shoulder, carefully removing any blood or muck and slowly moved down towards his elbow. You’d stop every few minutes to watch his face, checking if he was still okay.

You were brushing off the plates on his elbow when he turned his head to watch you. The concentration on your face made him smile a bit and he relaxed under your soft touch.

When you finally reached his wrist, he cleared his throat and you looked up at him. His blue eyes shone brightly when he was looking at you, they were cleared of any self-loathing and you gave him a small smile.

“Almost done with this arm,” you whispered before continuing.

“I can do the rest,” he immediately said. You had already helped him so much and he didn’t want to burden you any more.

“Bucky, please let me- let me take care of you,” you replied as you stood up after cleaning his digits. You stood between his legs now and held his face between your hands.

“Please,” you whispered against his lips and he let out a shaky breath before he nodded. You kissed him softly and pulled away to open his cabinet and pull out a first aid kit.

You disinfected the wounds on his arm and put plasters and bandages over them. You gave each bruise on his face a small kiss and when every injury was tended to, he grabbed your hand before you pulled away.

“Thank you,” he kissed your knuckles and looked back up at you, tears present in his eyes.

“Let’s make this a thing, alright?” You said as you sat crossed legged in front of him, love radiating out of you.

He licked his lips and nodded, a small smile forming on his face. You leaned your side against his leg and he caressed your hair, smoothing it down and you hummed, enjoying the feeling.

You stood up again after a minute to clean up everything.

You put his first aid kit back in his cabinet as he came to stand behind you, circling your waist with his left arm and he pressed a kiss against your neck.

You closed the cabinet and the mirror then showed the happy look on both of your faces.

“I love you,” he whispered against the side of your face as your eyes connected through the mirror.

You turned in his embrace and cradled his face in your hands, tears threatening to spill because of all the love you felt for this person, “I love you too, Buck.”

* * *

So that’s how the ritual started. The first few months he’d call you immediately after a mission and you would come over to help him clean his vibranium arm. When you moved in together, he’d flick on the nightlight in the corner next to your bed if he returned at night. The small glimmer of light would wake you softly and that way he wouldn’t have to touch you with bloody hands.

Once you were up, you would go to your bathroom to find him sitting on the side of the tub, a fresh towel waiting for you on the hamper. Standing in front of him between his legs, you’d tip his head back softly with your hands to give him a forehead kiss that lingered for a few seconds. After that you’d help him out of his dirty clothes, careful to avoid any injuries that he sustained, soft hands brushing against his collarbones to the scars on his left shoulder. You’d clean the vibranium plates carefully and he would watch you in silence. After the arm was clean, you pull him with you in the tub to relax. You’d lather his hair with a few pumps of your soap, so that his senses would fill with everything that was you.

Relaxing together in the tub, you’d tell him about the day you had, or what you were planning to do tomorrow and he’d listen. You'd kiss him senseless until he didn’t know what was up or down anymore and his smile would reappear on his face.

The longer this ritual went on, the more open he became and the more he accepted he wasn’t him. He started taking care of himself more and even opened up about you in his therapy sessions. He found himself again because you helped looking for him. He found himself again because you were always by his side to pick him up.

And so when you all gathered at the docks and you saw playing him with Sam’s nephews or talking to Sarah, you knew he’d be okay. You knew he had found himself because the smile on his face would be genuine. And when he picked you up around your waist to twirl you around and dance with him on the dance floor, you knew you had found your person, because he didn’t realize yet how much he had helped you find yourself as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #fatws #tfatws #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes #sebastian stan

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readyforthegarden · 3 years ago

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Summer in the City - Part Two

Part Two

Read Part One if you haven’t already!

Pairing: Mainly Sam x Female Reader, but uh...things happen.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!, drug usage

Taglist: @streamsofstardust @myownparadise96 @sing-against-the-sky @mannick @screechesincoherently @garagebandvanfleet @theweightofstardust

You sat on the floor of the van, the milk crate too hard for you to sit on for hours at a time. You grew bored with watching the scenery of California pass by in the windows, so you reached up and ran your hands through your hair. You parted it down the middle and started to french braid it. Sam had glanced up at your movement and was watching your fingers twist and twirl sections of your hair together. You tied the end with a string of yarn you’d brought with you, and did the same with the other one.

“Can you do that to my hair?” you looked over to Sam, who was smiling softly towards you. You simply nodded and sat yourself up on the crate, and he was crawling across the floor to sit himself in front of you, shaking out his brown locks. You gently fingered combed it, noting how soft and silky it felt. You tilted his head back a bit, just enough to run your two index fingers back from his hair line, and separating your starting piece. Sam’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt him relax against your legs as your fingers danced through his hair, tracing lines on his scalp. Once you finished the braid, you started to look for another piece of string to tie it, when he stopped you. “Can you undo it and do it again? It feels really good.”

“Sure,” you answer, combing the braid out and fluffing his hair. “You have more hair than my great aunt’s Irish setter.” Sam chuckled and shook his hair out more, making you giggle as some brushed across your face. You combed out the small tangles and started braiding again. When you finished this one, he asked you to redo it again, looking up at you with wide, doe-eyes and a gentle, comforting smile. He didn’t need to ask again, you realized, as you would have continued braiding and unbraiding those silky strands until your fingers bled.

“When we get to home, I want to show you everything.” Sam murmured to you as you weaved through his hair for the umpteenth time. “I think you belong there. It’s sunny and warm. You seem that way.”

“You think?” you asked, your stomach fluttering at the idea that this handsome stranger had thought about you in any way at all. He opened his eyes and tilted his head back, looking up at you.

“You’ve got an aura around you, you know?” he waved a hand around you, like he was tracing you. He leaned forward and you let go of his hair as he turned around and knelt in front of you, much like he did yesterday. He rested his forehead against yours and your breathing hitched in your throat. “It’s like laying in a patch of sunshine, being close to you. You’re so warm and bright.” you kept your eyes down, watching his smile.

You didn’t know what to say, no one had ever complimented your aura, whatever that was. You didn’t dare look up to see if his eyes were open, knowing in your soul that if you locked eyes with him at this proximity, you’d never be the same again, life would be meaningless without those eyes in them. After a few moments, Sam moved away, and you let out a shaky breath once your space was no longer occupied. He smiled at you and pulled a different looking cigarette out of his pocket, and you looked at it curiously.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll share.” he hummed, lighting it up. Unlike with the cigarette yesterday, he held his inhale for a few moments before letting it pass through his lips. The smell hit your nostrils and you immediately recognized it as marijuana. You’d been around it a few times, but never directly partook. Sam gave you a knowing look and beckoned you over. Now you were crawling across the van floor, placing yourself next to him. He placed the joint in your hand, and guided you through it like yesterday, only this time instructing you to hold the breath you took for as long as possible. Your eyes watered a bit as you held back a cough, and Sam chuckled at you. Finally, you couldn’t hold it any longer and coughed, expelling the smoke. Sam rubbed your back, and you heard Jake and Danny laughing behind you guys again.

“Hey, don’t get her too high now, man.” Danny turned around in the passenger seat. Jake was driving today, and glanced back at you guys. “You want her to make a good impression, don’t you?” Sam rolled his eyes and took the joint back from you.

“Josh will love you,” Sam whispered. “He loves everyone. Don’t sweat it.” you gave him a small smile, trying to ignore the fact that his free hand was still on your back, thumb gently sweeping back and forth. You tried to tell yourself that you’d only known this young man for less than twenty-four hours, it was ridiculous to be crushing this hard on him. But something in you pushed away the logic. You came out here for something different, and you were going to listen to your heart over your head from now on.

Four hours later, after traveling down winding dirt roads for a while, Jake parked in front of a large, old house. The paint that had coated the wood was flaking away, some of the shutters on the windows were hanging on for dear life. You noticed people walking around the expansive yard, some were tending to a garden, others were putting together what looked like a shed or storage structure. Sam opened the sliding door and hopped out, stretching his limbs with a large groan and then turning to you.

You pulled your tote bag over your shoulder and took the hand he extended towards you, once again helping you out of the van. You fully expected him to drop your hand after, but he clasped it tightly, nodding for you to walk with him, and try and catch up with Danny and Jake. You stumbled a bit, not knowing if it was from being locked in a smoke filled van for hours or trying to keep up with Sam’s long legs. You glanced around, and were met with curious looks from some people, although you recognized multiple glares from some of the women that had noticed you.

“We’re back!” Jake shouted as he walked through the front door of the house. The foyer bled into a living area, where various, tattered couches were placed. Crocheted afghans were strewn about the furniture, and you noted some clothes peeking out from the blankets. There was movement in the shadows and a man emerged, smiling softly.

“Welcome home, brother.” he said. The man was dressed in all white, various strings of beads hanging around his neck. His curly hair was brown, just like his two brothers, and you marveled at how all three were so nearly identical. He was the only one with any facial hair, a thin mustache and small goatee. He stepped forward and embraced Jake, patting his back. He did the same with Danny, then stepped back to regard Sam as he took him into a hug. His eyes flicked over to you and he paused his movements, and he tilted his head slightly. “We have a guest?”

“Her name is Y/N.” Sam explained, tugging your hand and bringing you more in front of him. “We picked her up yesterday outside San Francisco. She was heading here, so we figured we’d bring her home with us. Y/N, this is Josh.” your eyes moved from Sam to Josh, and you saw the man studying you. It was like he was trying to figure out every secret you’ve ever hidden away, and it made you shudder. Josh’s eyes found your hand clasped in Sam’s, and he squinted a bit. You noticed Jake and Danny shifting nervously behind him, eyes trained on Josh as he moved forward.

“Y/N, is it?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“Yes sir.” you nodded, your voice barely a squeak. Josh burst out laughing, wiping his hand over his face. You felt confused, watching the other men laugh along with him.

“Sir?” Josh shook his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “There’s no need for that. You can call me Josh. We have plenty of room, plenty of food. You can stay here as long as you need.” Josh opened his arms, and you glanced back to Sam. The taller boy finally let go of your hand, pushing you gently towards his brother. You stumbled a bit into the embrace, Josh chuckling as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He squeezed you tightly, nearing choking the breath out of you. Once he let go, he moved to Sam, giving him the same hug.

“You should see her work, Josh.” Jake nodded towards you. “She can sew. We thought she could work for us for a bit.” Josh turned back to you, his eyebrows raised curiously.

“What can you make?” you flushed, tugging on the shirt you were wearing to show him the small daisy that covered the worn hole in it.

“I can embroider, a little bit. Fix holes, stitch things together. I’ve never really made any clothes. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be too useful.” Josh touched the stitching on your shirt, and you dug in your tote bag to show him some of the other things you’d had to stitch over the past few weeks. He inspected them carefully, and smiled up at you.

“There’s a place for everyone here.” he affirmed. “And we could definitely use someone who can mend clothes, at the very least. Would you mind helping us?” you smiled at Josh, nodding.

“Anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.” Josh grinned at you, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. You peeked over to Sam, who was beaming at you. Josh noticed the look you shared and spoke again. “Danny, will you take her upstairs and let her get settled into one of the spare rooms?”

“Sure,” Danny stepped forward and stood next to you, he gestured for you to follow him towards the open staircase.

“I’ll come get you in a little bit, Y/N.” Josh called as you ascending the stairs behind Danny. “Give you the grand tour.” you nodded and smiled, stealing one more glance at Sam, who was talking quietly with Jake now, his eyes darting between you and Josh.

Danny led you down a dim hallway, coming to a stop in front of a door with a flower spray painted on it. He opened the door and ushered you inside. It was a small room, with peeling pastel purple wallpaper. A twin bed was in the corner adorned with a patchwork quilt and an old, lumpy looking pillow, along with a small dresser and armchair. You dropped your tote bag on the bed, turning towards Danny.

“Thank you,” you said. “For picking me up yesterday. I realized I never properly thanked you.” Danny waved his hand in the air, as if he was dismissing your comment.

“It’s no problem, man.” he shrugged, giving you a smile. You heard scuffling sounds coming from downstairs, and furrowed your brow. Danny noticed and gave you a smile. “Jake likes to roughhouse. He’s been cooped up in a van for too long.” you nodded. “Josh should come get you soon, so sit tight. I’ll see you later.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You walked across the tall grass, a few steps behind Josh as he showed you around the commune. He’d walked you through the garden where various vegetables and fruits were growing, along with some suspicious looking plants towards the back. He explained how everyone that lived here worked together to make a sustainable home. They grew their own food, keeping to a vegetarian diet. Some of the people you had seen earlier were introduced to you, though a few still seemed to have a distaste for you, they seemed to hide it once Josh was in front of them.

“How long have you all been here?” you asked, looking at the makeshift huts and tents that littered the backyard of the house. There were at least eight of them, and you could’ve sworn you’d seen a few small children running into one.

“About a year now.” Josh answered. “We came down here after the Haight dried up. So many people tried to profit off the movement, sucking it dry. Fake prophets touting the words of love and light, and spoiling good people.” he shook his head. “We had to leave. So we found this place, and started fixing it up. Most of the people here joined us on our travels down, others stumbled upon us when we’re in the city. You’re the first new person we’ve gotten in a while.”

“Well, I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, I’m planning on going into the city and looking for a job soon. Get a place there and build a life.” Josh’s eyes studied you, and he looked slightly affronted at your admission.

“Y/N, why do you need to build a life out there?” he asked. “It’s cold and heartless. We don’t need money, we don’t need material things. We all have each other. You can build a life right here. With us.” you considered his words, looking out to the land of tall grass and trees to the left of the property, where Josh was now bringing you. The evening sun was burning amber against the landscape, and you smiled.

“It does seem peaceful out here.” you sighed. Josh nodded, about to speak when a metallic clinging sound ran out.

“Supper time.” he nodded towards the sound. “Would you like to join me at my table? I want to learn everything about you.” You agreed and he took your hand, placing it on his elbow so he could escort you. As he led you around the house again, back towards the back yard, he continued on about how everyone was one unit. They all loved each other and that was the power that kept them all going. In the backyard, picnic tables were set up, torches lit to keep the insects away. On each table, there were large baskets of bread, and stock pots of what looked to be a stew. Josh guided you to a table where Jake and Danny already sat, a few other people there next to them. You sat down next to the head of the table, a large chair there where Josh sat down.

You felt movement on your other side a saw Sam easing himself onto the bench next to you. He gave you a small smile, and you noticed a bruise forming on his cheekbone. You gave him a concerned look and he waved you off, murmuring that he was okay. You were about to ask what happened when Josh spoke up.

“Everyone, I’m sure most of you have gotten word that we have a guest among us.” he gestured to you and your eyes went wide. “Let’s make sure that Y/N feels as welcome as you all were. We are all one. We are all love.”

“We are all love!” the group said back, clapping and clanging their silverware on their plates and cups.

“Now, let’s dig in before the delicious smelling meal gets too cold.” Josh grinned at the tables and they started serving up the food. Jake was serving the table you sat at, making sure plates were passed down and everyone had a serving before settling his own plate. As everyone began eating, Josh leaned over towards you.

“Where are you from, originally?” he asked. “Your accent isn’t Californian.”

“I’m from Indiana.” you supply, dragging your spoon through the thin broth in front of you. “A really small town there. Surrounded by nothing by corn and soybean fields.”

“Oh? We’re from Michigan, originally.” Josh mentioned. “We’re neighbors.” you smiled and nodded.

“Practically.” you agreed. The evening went on, Josh asking you questions about your life throughout the dinner. Simple, easy questions someone asks a stranger when making polite small talk. Once the meal was over, you went to help clear the table, when Josh stopped you, stating you were a guest at this meal. He told you that he didn’t want your hands to get too tired from washing dishes, or risk you getting a cut and not being able to mend clothes. You understood, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you were already making enemies in a this place that was so full of love.

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #danny wagner #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #summer in the city fic

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wmufranniefabray · 1 year ago

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FRANNIE: In a way, would it really be an awful thing if we were moved to different dorms? I'd miss you a lot - extraordinarily so - but it would mean we wouldn't have to worry so much about sneaking around. Or feeling guilty that Coach Sylvester will find us. [ A LONG PAUSE BEFORE REPLYING ] FRANNIE: Sam, my parents are not the kind of people you want to meet. Every time I see you talk about your family, I can see how warm, fuzzy and happy you are. They're your happy place. It sounds bizarre, but I wanted to keep you separate from my parents because they're not...good people a lot of the time. And you are good. You're kind and you're smart and you're the human embodiment of sunshine. I was worried by combining the two worlds that you'd view me differently, or change your opinion. FRANNIE: The difference is that I'm aware that Cody has a complex relationship with his family, too, so that initial fear of judgement wasn't there. FRANNIE: I'm sorry I didn't explain this before leaving. The last thing I'd ever want to do is make you feel like that. FRANNIE: None of this weekend can be any kind of indication of how strongly I feel about you or how much I like you. Because I do. A lot. And I really, really, really do not want to be your friend.

SAM: Right?? I haven't breathed a word to anyone other than your sister. That I can think of... I just don't want this getting back to Sue and her pulling us into her office to see if there's truth to the rumors. We were told to keep it in our pants. Which we've technically done but I'll admit I've thought about taking off your pants way more times than I can count SAM: What can I say? There are a lot of sexy shapes out there. SAM: I'm gonna be real honest here because that's what we've always done with each other. I can see why you're into Cody. If I didn't think of him as my brother I probably would've flirted with him at some point. He's funny, got that fun off the wall kind of thing going which is fun to be around, good looking and is in killer shape. What's not to be attracted to? He also looks good in a suit. I'm not blind to any of that. Now, am I a little insecure when it comes down to it because you invited him to meet your folks instead of me? Sure. BUT, I get it. You guys probably been talking longer. Got more in common. There's a bunch of reasons that are none of my business. It's not gonna change how you and I are unless you tell me we've gotta keep it on a friends level. Which I'll respect. 100% SAM: I really like you, too. A LOT. Like a lot a lot. But I recognize we've gotta do things the way we are because we live together. And...well... I've had shit luck with past relationships. They didn't end on bad notes. Nothing like that. Just I get broken up with and don't know why. I'm always told it's got nothing to do with me. Which makes no sense because then why end things?

#{ text ;; sam }#{ text ;; all }#{ all ;; sam }

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wearywinchester · 4 years ago

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Hold On

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When you’re injured on a hunt with a shapeshifter, Dean’s there to make sure you’re okay.

Requested by Anonymous: “Come here, I’ll carry you”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, mild swearing, fluff, kissing

A groan.

That’s all you could manage as you tipped your head back and let it thud against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as another groan fell past your lips. You were nothing short of exhausted as you slumped against that wall, one that surely had the outline of your body indented in it from where you’d been thrown earlier. Just how early it’d been, you weren’t really sure about that part.

What you were sure of was the incessant burning across your knuckles and the pressure behind your cheekbone, knowing for certain there was a cut running along your skin there. You were increasingly aware of the way your knee had a dull throb to it, your ankle a million times worse. That familiar pressure radiated behind your eyes as the tears stung and burned, frustration having built up and nearly boiled over. Between the pain of your injuries and the embarrassment you felt for getting them, it was enough to have them rolling down your cheeks, hot on your skin.

It was a shifter. One that’d turned into your very own twin, adding to the strangeness of it all when it cornered you in a room by yourself, the room you currently sulked in with the inability to get very far.

The saying you are your own worst enemy had taken on a meaning you never quite thought of in that moment, one that had your brows furrowing and the anger simmering within you. You knew it’d used your looks to it’s advantage for the brothers you came with, for Dean. You were his sweet spot and it seemed as though every monster in the very world you lived in knew that very fact and took full advantage of the seemingly universal knowledge.

But that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the fact that you’d gotten separated from the pair and were reduced to a hobble should you want to get up and find your way to them. That would be simple if you knew where they were—you’d heard some yelling and a miscellaneous shot fired, but it wasn’t enough to pinpoint where your beau had been.

Your hands were trembling as you brought them up to your face, adrenaline still having its hold on you as you rub your hands down your face despite the jolt of pain making itself known when your hand ran over your cheek. You grit your teeth and curse under your breath at the sensation, fists balling in your momentary irritation before they relax once more.

All around you were heaps of broken glass from windows and cabinets, shards of snapped wood joining it on the floor and you were fairly certain you were sitting on more than a few of those pieces. The couch was overturned and it’s cushions splay around the room in places cushions shouldn’t be, the table split down the middle and sitting in a pile of rubble much like the rest of the room. The paintings and pictures on the walls were torn, the glass in some of the frames broken and from where you’d thrown them in self defense. Something that also took on a new meaning.

You were tired, fatigue weighing you down as your heart hammered in your chest and sweat coated your skin. You were tired and miserable and desperately wanted to call it a day. A bubble bath seemed like a dream to you in that moment, contrasting to the way you felt having currently been covered in dirt and blood and sweat and most freshly—tears.

Your jaw tenses as tightly as you could manage when you rolled to your side, palm pressed to the floor as you leaned on your good knee. It was no easy feat getting yourself up off that floor, the smallest bit of pressure upon your ankle nearly sending you over the edge as you stood to your feet with a tear rolling down your cheek. Balance was something you lacked in that moment, never something you had down to begin with but it paled in comparison to this as you caught yourself on the wall.

“I am never hunting again,” you grumble to yourself, huff leaving your lips though you knew it was a lie.

“Y/n?”

You gaze lifted to the owner of the voice, relief washing over you as he crossed the room in as little as three strides. “Dean? Please tell me it’s really you because I can’t do a round two with that thing.”

“I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart,” he says, brows furrowing as his hand comes up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over your skin as the tips of his fingers hover over the very curve of your ear.

You could see every emotion that expressed on his face, that filled his eyes as they bounced over every inch of your face at each and every scrape and scratch and bump and bruise. You could see the myriad of questions and arguments sitting on the tip of his tongue on how you should have been more careful, how he shouldn’t have let you leave his side this time. It wasn’t hard to see, even if he’d deny it till he was blue in the face if you’d said those very things you saw.

His eyes fall closed for a moment as the relief falls over him, his forehead pressing to yours as his jaw tenses. He feels the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what’d happened to you and at the very fact that he couldn’t do anything about it. Wasn’t there to help you. If he was, your hands wouldn’t be shaking so much and you wouldn’t have those tears in your eyes that pull at his heart every time he sees them. You wouldn’t be shifting on your feet as you try and stand on a messed up ankle and you wouldn’t have felt scared. You hadn’t said it but he knew you were.

You wouldn’t be hurt.

“You okay?” He asks instead, nose bumping yours softly in the close proximity.

“Take a wild guess, Winchester,” you said, lips quirking up in a soft smile.

He pulls back to look at you then, lips pursed as the crease between his brows deepens. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, getting yourself an eye roll.

You muster up the strength to push past him, all hobbles with just an ounce of balance as your face twists in immediate discomfort. The groan you try to muffle doesn’t get past green eyes behind you, especially not the gasp you’re quick to inhale when that ever familiar searing pain burns up the length of your leg. It was beyond you how you thought you could play it off, but even then you still didn’t give up your efforts.

“Y/n,” he started, a warning tone in his voice mixed with exasperation.

“I’m fine, Dean. I got it,” you insist, though the half cry leaving your lips right after is less than helping your case.

“Would you quit it with the macho tough guy act?” He says and you’re quick to flash him a glare. His brows raise and he throws his hands up. He was right and he knew it. “Come here, I’ll carry you.”

“Are you crazy?” Your glare remains as your head tilts, his hands dropping to his sides.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart, ‘m not letting you walk so deal with it.”

You sigh as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, one you try desperately to stave off as you roll your eyes. He turns on his heel and squats down, head turning and brow raising as he waits. A huff sounds and so does a stifle noise of discomfort as you move, your hands pressing to his shoulders as you climb on his back. His hands rest behind your thighs as he stands tall, your arms wrapping around his neck as your head rests against his.

A quiet apology is immediate at the sound of your muffled complaints when your ankle is jostled more than you’d prefer, soft and sweet. You tightened your grip around him then, your chin resting on his shoulder as he kicked the busted door open, careful not to let it hit you.

The rain was drizzling outside as he started along the trail back to the car, the droplets cold against your skin as they pelted down over you at a steady pace.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you mumble, a teasing smile on your lips. “Maybe I should stop calling you short stack.”

His chuckle rumbles against you and you can’t see the grin on his face but boy was he sporting the sweetest smile as he shook his head at your words. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really,” you say, laughing to yourself. “But you are shorter than Sam, so I’m gonna have to take it back, short stack.”

He squeezes your good leg in playful retaliation, head shaking some more as he hikes you up further on his back. Even when you’re hurting you never miss the chance to pick on him and he swears you’re the embodiment of sunshine, he knows you are but he doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

“I meant it when I said you were a pain,” he says, his grin in his words.

You laughed then, one that has him smiling like a fool. You sigh softly, another laugh falling from your lips.

“I can’t believe I kicked my own ass,” you say, brows furrowing as you thought about it and his own laughter was immediate. It wasn’t all too amusing half an hour ago but in the current moment, it was kinda comical you will admit.

“You kicked mine too.”

You sigh, quiet and gentle as you look ahead over his shoulder. His stubble is rough against your cheek as your skin brushes against it, your hand that dangled over in front of him patting his chest.

“De?” You say softly, eyes focused on his boots with every step in the mud and gravel. He hummed. “You really are sweet.”

Sweet. It was something you called him often, something he’d beg to differ on because he feels you deserve more, but that isn’t even something he’d argue with you on. He knows full well he’d lose. But it’s got him smiling, one that only widens when you kiss his cheek and your smile presses into his skin, paired with a soft press of your lips to the corner of his mouth when he turns his head. He stops in his tracks and tips his head back, kissing you once, twice, three times before he turns once more and continues by the path.

It’s his wordless I love you, his wordless acceptance of your words as he’s got that goofy smile on his lips he’s glad you can’t see. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you’ve got him, and he knows he’s not going anywhere.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine

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