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blorbosondeck · 4 years ago

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fic rec masterlist

canon divergent/finale fix its

Anamnesis

THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!

"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas

GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts

repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it

“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”

Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?

VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!!

"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."

Keep Your Love Alive

okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much

"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"

The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas

this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️

“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“

Ascend by @wanderingcas

THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss

“Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?”

Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles

i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen

Closer (isn't close enough)

are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.

“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”

You and Your Husband

it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3

"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."

Tall Grass

miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3

Invictus

a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it

“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.

Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.

They still have someone they need to save.”

Unchained Link

post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!

"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."

fun and time unspecified

Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5

very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️

"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."

The Way We Were

Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual

"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"

While You Were Sleeping

this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up.

aus/rewrites

The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript

i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it

“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“

absolute riots

An Ineffably Profound Bond

i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this

"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.

When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."

Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige

cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it

“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“

Stray Cat Strut

a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this

"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.

Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"

canon compliant or slight canon divergence

Give

by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic

Punch Like Bones

short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten

#lmao please interact with this i spent so much time on it #i had to go onto desktop for this #ill keep adding on to it #my fic recs #fic rec #spn fic rec #deancas fic recs #charlie.txt

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estrel · 4 years ago

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Christmas, Early Mornings, and How to be Free

destiel december 2020 prompt: decorating | wc: ~1.3k

[READ ON AO3]

Dean often forgets that angels don’t sleep.

The soft knock at his door at—he checks his clock—four in the morning, however, serves as a gentle reminder.

He sits up, brushing off popcorn crumbs from his shirt, and blearily rubs his eyes. Dean hadn’t been sleeping, per se, but he was drunk and dog tired, eyes burning from staring at his TV for what must have been hours on end.

His door opens and light from the hallway streams in, bright like the white-hot burn of an angel being killed. Dean blinks once, twice, and there stands his own angel, a hand on the door knob.

“Sorry to wake you,” Cas mutters. “Ah, Jack and I were wondering if you were—if you wanted to help us with something.”

Dean looks at the clock again, more for show than to actually read the time, before redirecting his gaze back to Cas.

“It’s four in the morning, Cas.”

Cas shifts his weight. “I don’t—”

“You don’t sleep,” Dean finishes for him, already throwing the blanket off of himself. The wave of cool air over his calves where his sweats ride up make him shiver. He pulls the fabric down back over them and stands.

“Yeah, I know. And lucky for you, I barely do.” Dean comes to a stop in front of Cas. “What’s up?”

Cas pushes the door open and turns, leading the way for Dean to follow.

“Jack and I—we were discussing the bible,” Cas starts.

“As you do.”

“—And Jack was curious about how humans celebrate the birth of Christ.”

“Uh-huh.” They step through the kitchen and Dean eyes a half-eaten snack on the table. He quickly nicks it, gives it a once-over, and takes a bite. The taste of chocolate caramel nougat makes him let out a low groan of satisfaction.

Cas shoots him a glare over his shoulder. Dean shrugs.

“He told me you all celebrated it once,” Cas continues, “Along with some other holidays, though I can’t imagine how I managed to miss that. Anyway, he has friends in town that celebrate the christian Christmas, and now he’s got…um, ideas.”

Dean frowns. “What ideas?”

They round the corner into the library, where Dean’s confronted with several large boxes that are set on the nearest table. Scattered around them are various decorations like ornaments, tinsel, and what look to be Santa hats in a few different colors and patterns. Dean’s gaze pulls away from the mess to look at Jack, who has his arms elbow-deep into the box nearest to him. He smiles wide at Dean.

“You’re awake! Hey—is-is that…my candy bar?”

Dean looks down at the bar and stuffs what’s left of it in his mouth. He holds a finger up when Jack pouts, chewing until he can form words.

“Finders keepers, kid,” he swallows, “It’s a lesson you gotta learn while you’re still young. What are you doin’, anyway? What’s all this crap you’ve got out?”

Jack’s smile is back as he pulls out an ornament. “Christmas! I thought we’d decorate.”

Dean blinks at him. “Dude. Four in the morning.”

He hears Cas sigh and turns his attention to him instead. “I’m serious! You couldn’t have waited a couple more hours? And hey, wait a second—how come I’m up and Sam’s nowhere to be seen? This is, like, his usual wake up time.”

“It is,” Cas says, “He’s actually out on a jog right now, he said he’d be back to help with the baking.”

“The—” Dean runs a hand over his face, pressing briefly over his eyes to wake himself better. They’d already done Christmas this year, and all the other holidays, for that matter. Of course…

He opens his eyes.

Not with Cas.

Dean lets his arm drop back to his side and strides the few steps over to Jack, picking his favorite ornaments out of the box from when Mrs. Butters had first showed them to him. He hands a blue one over to Jack.

“Besides,” Jack studies the bulb, “We’re starting late. Christmas is only a week away, and I know people who start decorating in November!”

“We don’t even have the tree up yet,” Dean grumbles in feigned annoyance. “Hell, we don’t even have a tree.”

“Sure we do,” Jack says. He turns and points over at the table behind them. A small tree no more than 16 inches tall stands bare in the middle of the table.

Dean stares at it, eyes wandering over to Cas after a beat for an explanation. He’s standing on the other side of Jack, now, and catches Dean’s gaze.

“It’s fake,” Cas says, “We found it with the decorations. It’s…a substitute—at most—for now.”

Dean nods slowly. “Okay,” he accepts.

After that he finds the smallest bulbs that won’t take up too much space on the little thing, passing them to Cas who hands them to Jack to put on the tree. Working like clockwork, the tree is decorated sooner rather than later, and Dean straightens up in time to hear the front door open with a metal squeal.

Sam steps inside, closing the door behind him, and looks down at the three of them with a smile. He pulls an earbud out.

“Nice tree,” he says, clamoring down the stairs.

Dean, feeling strangely defensive, mutters, “Up yours,” and rifles through the box for something to fling at him. He comes up short, but Jack rids them of Sam as he bounds off to meet him in the kitchen, giddy to start on their baking as soon as possible.

Dean pulls out a Santa hat in the wake of it just being him and Cas in the room and, holding his breath, turns to place it on Cas’ head.

Cas stares as Dean slips it on, adjusting it here and there so it sits right, pulling away lest it becomes too...

Cas catches his arm before Dean can withdraw it.

“How...How come I get to wear the hat and you don’t?”

Dean chuckles, pulling lightly in an attempt to get out of Cas’ grip. Cas tightens his hold by a fraction.

“’Cause you look better in hats? I dunno,” Dean mumbles. He feels his heart racing, chances a glance over to the kitchen where he can hear Sam and Jack clanging baking supplies around while they set up to make the cookies.

His eyes meet Cas’ again, dropping momentarily to look at his lips before Dean forces them to stay on Cas’ baby blues.

“That’s not true,” Cas frowns, “You are very attractive for someone of your gender and age.”

Dean swallows hard, face warm. “Yeah?” His voice comes out higher than intended, so he clears his throat before speaking again. “Thanks.”

Cas lets go of his wrist, backing away a little. “You are welcome.”

They stare at each other, transfixed, and Dean thinks Cas looks more innocent with this hat on, more so than, say, that cowboy hat Dean had made him wear once. Almost silly enough for Dean to let his guard down, to lean forward, and—

Cas' breath ghosts over his cheek and chin in their newfound proximity, faces just a few inches apart.

Dean licks his lips, once, and closes the space between them. He presses his lips softly to Cas', trembling a little due to the action. It's chaste, and feels simultaneously like it lasts an eternity and only a few seconds—something Dean thinks only Cas is capable of doing.

And he knows, dazedly, that it's likely the latter, even if a lifetime was lived in this moment alone. Dean pulls back to stare at Cas like he just hung the stars rather than some simple plastic ornaments on a dingy fake Christmas tree, holding his breath as he gages Cas' reaction.

This close, Dean can see Cas' pupils blown wide. The angel has that look about him that Dean remembers seeing a long time ago, like a soldier with newfound freedom—unsure where to go or how to use it.

Dean licks his lips again, and though his hands are still shaking when he lifts them to cup Cas' face, he feels his mouth smooth into a smile.

He ducks his head to kiss Cas again. And again. And again, until they hear the shout that the cookies are ready, and Dean takes Cas' hand in his.

Freedom isn’t a length of rope, Dean thinks, but rather a red string, tying them together and guiding them home every time without fail. Maybe they could teach each other, this time—about Christmas, early mornings, and how to be free.

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-lamp @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean @randomblabbling @fluffiestlou @dreamnovak @weird-dorky-little-d @depressivedemonnightmaredean @jackleslongcon @friedchickenangelwings @galaxycastiel @destielle @dickspeightjrs @on-a-bender @organicpurplepants @casbelieves @samuelswinchester @spacegirlstuff @seffersonjtarship @winchester-novak @professorerudite @squintingg @holmesemrys @imnotrevealingmyname @festivemish @good-things-do-happen-dean@angxlsgrxce @casandeans @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat @gracelesschoice @superduckbatrebel @iheardyourprayer @top13zepptraxx @that-one-fandom-chick @scoobydean @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh @maxguevra @cursed-or-not @i-think-im-humanbut-cant-besure @fitinmypoems @madilineskingdom @awolfnamedaliac @castee-yel @tearsofgrace @credentiast @fivefeetfangirl @my-favourite-hellatus @gray-is-neutral @sunflower-vol-28 @ensignabby @ar-bi-trary

#destiel december 2020 #another day another sucky ficlet sdhfsjdf soRRY #its hard for me to write fluff tbh bc i never know where im goin with it #destiel #rambleoncas writing #spn #supernatural #destiel fic #deancas #roc original #my post

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nastyburger · 5 years ago

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time for dex backstory

before the mutation, dex was what you would call a “weak kid” in terms of health. he often got sick and just in general had a weak immune system. as a result, he spent a lot more time at home, sometimes even going a couple of weeks being home-schooled at a time if his illness got really bad.

this danny really doesn’t have a lot of friends his age. after all, how do you make friends at school when you’re barely even AT school? he’s still close friends with his own sam and tucker, but his tendency to stay home does stunt the natural progression of their friendship a bit. don’t get me wrong, they’re still good friends but compared to the canon trio, they’re just not as close knit. in all honesty, dex finds it kind of a miracle that sam and tucker stuck around so much in the beginning to this point despite barely knowing him.

the trade off for not being close to anyone among his peers though was a really strong relationship with his family. out of all the dannys, dex has the closest relationship to his parents and jazz (who goes by “jasmine” in this universe). even if the worrying and concern for his health can be a bit suffocating, dex finds a lot more comfort with them than anyone else. he feels he’s able to trust them with anything.

from very early on, this danny takes a much bigger interest in jack and maddie’s work. when he’s not learning the core subjects in homeschooling, he reads up on robotics and engineering, he asks many questions about his parent’s work, hes even asked jasmine to teach him whatever advanced ap math subject she takes to help him better understand the mechanical calculations of the inventions. danny spends a lot of time at home so what better to entertain himself than with the family business. he also goes down to the lab often, even to the point of having his own “designated safety area” for him to sit in while the fenton’s work on more dangerous projects (guests sure do raise their eyebrows at seeing dex sit in the blast proof glass box though lol). basically, danny is very comfortable being in the lab and even tinkers/invents his own things from time to time with his parents.

he even helps jack and maddie build the ghost portal. none of the heavy lifting and handling of dangerous materials of course (much to dex’s dismay), but looking over a lot of the blueprints and putting together many smaller components for the full thing. this leads to the button for the portal being closer to the entrance (courtesy of dex’s revisions), rather than being halfway in. its right by the arch of the portal on the inside.

this means, when the portal doesn’t work and dex goes to check it on his own (he was involved in this project and felt the need to make it work), dex doesn’t even fully enter the thing to accidentally turn it on. what instead happens is that he just pokes his head in, hugging around the arch of the portal and hits the button like this:

his arm takes the brunt of the electrocution, becoming so badly burned and damage that it just simply needs to be amputated, and his head takes a partial dip in the ectoplasmic/radioactive substance before pulling himself out.

danny’s scream alerts the rest of the fentons, who were right upstairs as this was occurring. many emergency medical procedures, trips to the hospital, and periods of recovery later, danny makes it out of the incident well and healed. albeit, missing an arm and getting his eyes dyed green (they test and confirm the presence of ecto-contamination in danny’s system but were unaware of the side effects until later) he wore a simple mechanical prosthetic at first created by his parents, but slowly they improve and upgrade the model to what dex currently has. after the accident, dex seems to not get sick nearly as often as before too (jack and maddie are looking into the possible healing properties of ectoplasm).

they also slowly discover that danny.......seems to react weirdly around the inventions in the lab. maddie and jack have upped restrictions and regulations about going in and out of the lab (dex being only allowed in while they were there and he’s in his Box TM, they only agreed to this arrangement because dex begged to participate in projects again) but they notice danny somehow has an influence on the weapons even within the confines of his safety area.

looking into the connection, they discover dex’s psychic link to ectoplasmic substances. the fentons go on a real journey with testing dex’s abilities and how his new powers work (jack goes on about how their son is like a little superhero) and start tweeking/making inventions specifically for danny to control and operate.

eventually, with more ghosts attacking amity and dex’s miraculous recovery in health and desire to join the family business, jack and maddie start to build the mech for danny. its specifically design to match match his link/abilities, based on danny’s own concepts and sketches, and built in safety features/protocols for very dangerous situation (they are still parents who worry after all). this mech becomes dex’s main mode of fighting.

soon, danny becomes a very public figure with his ghost hunting. he doesn’t really have a secret identity to hide like everyone else, so his activities is very open for the town to see. because of this, he doesn’t have the same “loser status” as canon danny (not that he had the title before the mutation either, given he was always sick and no one wants to beat down on a sickly kid). dex is also able to regularly attend school now and finally starts to make friends/get to know others his age.

this also includes further building his friendship with sam and tucker. illness no longer restricts their time and access for them to hang out and dex has an absolute blast with the newfound interaction. he’s certainly a bit over-excited with the new experiences but thats in no way a deterrent to anyone seeking to befriend him.

though, sam and tucker are not as involved with fighting ghosts like canon sam and tuck are. they mostly fight out of sheer proximity with dex, who will toss them the extra gun/weapon when ghosts show up. theyre quite good at it too but ghost hunting is still very much considered “a fenton thing” and left to them whenever possible.

#''mom can i go into the lab?'' // ''sure sweetie but you have to sit in gay baby jail.''#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannyverse au #phantomverse #danny dex fenton #aaaahhh this took very long to write and was very difficult lol sorry if stuff doesnt make sense or if i left anything out #ghost post #ghost draws

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strawberrylemonz · 3 years ago

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Disc(o) Boy

Part 4

Part 5 [CURRENT]

Part 6

DT: @bargledblocks @snapdragonfirefly @artistconk

“Chat, I’ve been thinking-”

“That’s not good.”

“Fuck you! You know what? I’m not telling you what I was going to tell you-! Oh, look at the sunset.”

Chat clucked and chuckled as Tommy pulled out his camera, snapping a photo. Humming as he waited for it to develop, he nodded to his voices.

“Can’t wait until I can get a new camera, one that can record, too! Don’t get me wrong, the camcorder dad left behind works well, but it’s becoming a hassle, innit?”

The sound of disembodied voices harmonizing agreed with the child, watching as he put away the photo, swapping it with his water bucket. Jumping off the side of his cliff, he hummed as he landed perfectly, avoiding damage.

“Poggers.”

Phil couldn’t help but smile at his youngest son, watching as he conversed with his voices in a friendly manner. He was certainly skilled at mediating his voices, not letting them annoy him and corrupt his thoughts with their sometimes questionable suggestions. He watched as his boy collected seeds, changing course to collect skeleton bones. Before anyone knew it, tiny Tommy began obsessed with trying to use a creeper to get a disc.

Tubbo almost laughed as he watched his best friend scurry around, worry-free as he tried so hard to get a disc, determined to succeed. It was nearly sunrise when Tommy finally loosened his grip on his quest.

“I’ll read your “subs” in a minute, I need to try and kill a creeper with a skeleton. You know what? No. I’ve got my bones, that’s all I needed.”

The group was almost baffled with how tiny Tommy and his voices easily decided to drop the disc quest. Tommy’s precious discs were so close to never being discovered.

“Quick! Before you die!”

Tommy navigated through the plains, avoiding arrows and zombies as he did so. His bright blue eyes, shining with adventure and joy, widened the moment he saw the arrow kill the creeper. Cheering alongside his chat, he scurried over to put the disc, examining it. Quickly stuffing it in his inventory, he happily ran away from the mobs as he made his way back to his house, full of excitement.

“And so it begins, the beginning of the end.”

“The kid was excited to get his very own disc. I don’t understand how a kid enjoying something he worked hard to get led to all of this.”

“Because he decided that those stupid things are worth more than people! Do you know how many things we’ve lost because of them? How many canon lives were wasted because he can’t let go of them?”

“He’s a kid, Jack. He shouldn’t even have to make such a stupid decision at such an age! No one should make that decision, so stop putting this all on my son!”

Jack huffed as he crossed his arms, biting back a comeback at the sight of both Philza and Kristin’s expressions. Sharing a look with Niki, he shook his head as he turned to face the small child he despised.

Ponk smiled at the memory, amused to see the young Tommy he had met so long ago. He watched as the child grumbled to the regular chickens and his Chat, leading the regular chickens back into their pen. He remembered the simple times he had with Tommy when the boy first joined. He remembered the quarrels they had as they bordered each other. He also remembered the moments of peace the two had in their own little corner, how he’d sit against the base of his tree, listening to the discs that Tommy would put on from his side of the fence. He didn’t care much for kids, but Tommy was some form of a companion in their little corner. Letting out a snort, he shook his head as Tommy half-heartedly dissed him to his Chat, a passive-aggressive tone when Chat mentioned that they enjoyed Ponk’s voice. He didn’t even realize that missed the kid’s company until now.

“What is that growling?”

The group watched as Tommy dug into the hill, searching for the source of the undead groans. Amusement filled Sam as he watched Tommy shrugged it off, deciding to head back to his home. It wasn’t until the vast amount of clucking and moans that Tommy realized what he had come across.

“A spawner? Do you reckon?”

The boy dug into the cobblestone, excitement and pride filling him as he saw the zombie spawner. Running about in joy, he finally composed himself long enough to secure it. After he was done, he happily made his way to the chest.

“Oh, what’s in the chest? What’s in the chest-”

Tommy froze for a moment, but only a moment, before breaking out in cheers. Doing laps around the small room, he paid no mind to his cheering Chat. Laughing, he pulled out his latest find, a disc. Running his hands over its surface, he smiled as he recognized it in an instant.

“Cat! Oh, I definitely need that diamond now!”

“Where do you want to listen to the music? Here?”

Tubbo smiled as he watched his younger self walk around with Tommy, joyful. Both boys were content, not yet in the hands of unfit responsibilities. No trauma, no wars, no exile, just Tommy and Tubbo.

“I’ll make us some chairs, one sec.”

The group watched as the younger boy scurried to craft chairs, his best friend waiting as they spoke.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not following, I’m just watching. You’ve made us some chairs, this is nice.”

“Do you want our chairs next to each other or one block apart?”

“Uh-”

“I’ll just make us a bench.”

“Yeah, a bench.”

Tubbo and Tommy both sat down on either side of the bench, leaving room for each other to feel comfortable. Humming, Tommy set down the music box, opening up his inventory to grab a disc.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, we’re gonna start with-”

“I like the sound of this one!”

Wilbur froze at the voice, eyes widening. He ignored Ghostbur’s squeals of joy, spewing ‘awws’ and ‘how adorable!’ every chance he got. Clenching his fists, he glared at his father and brother as they perked up, eager to see a memory not familiar to them.

“You like the sound of all of them, you cheeky little gremlin.”

“Wilby! Take that back! I’m a big man!”

Wilbur smiled as sat on the couch, peering over to watch as his six-year old brother watched the disc rotate. Tommy had always loved music, always eager to listen to Wilbur play his guitar. He used to watch Technoblade play his violin, that was, until Techno dropped the hobby. Humming along to the tune, he nodded to his older brother.

“Yeah, this one. Hey, Wilbah?”

“What’s up, Toms?”

“Is it okay if I learn how to play music?”

Philza perked up at this. Music? Did Tommy learn to play music?

Wilbur feigned being in deep thought, before smiling as he tickled the boy seated next to him. Tommy giggled and squealed as he squirmed out of his brother’s grasp. Smiling, Tommy playfully stuck his tongue out at his brother, making the older boy roll his eyes. Standing up from the couch, Wilbur stopped the disc and put it back in its sleeve, much to Tommy’s disappointment. Biting his lip, he made up his mind when he held the packaged disc to Tommy. Tommy gently accepted it, eyes sparkling as he followed his brother to the front of the music shop. He watched as Wilbur paid for the disc, thanking the employee before leading Tommy out. Tommy was practically radiating with joy at this point.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not a problem, Tommy.”

“Oh, I can’t wait until Dad and Techie come home tomorrow so that I can show them my new disc!”

Wilbur froze, furrowing his eyebrows as Tommy bumped into his legs. Sighing, he bent down to face his brother.

Quackity let out a nervous laugh as he pulled Karl and Sapnap close, enjoying being between the two.

“I know that look, it’s the bad news express.”

“Listen, Toms, I know you were looking forward to having those two spend the day with us tomorrow, but that’s not happening. I just got a letter from them that said that they’ll be gone longer this time.”

“Wha- but that’s not fair! It’s my birthday tomorrow! You only turn seven once, you know. They promised me!”

“I know, Tommy, I know. Oh, come here.”

Tommy bit back tears as he accepted his older brother’s embrace. Sniffing, wiped some tears away as he tried not to sob.

“They promised me, Wilbah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? ‘S not your fault. I love you, Wilby”

“I love you more, Toms.”

Wilbur smiled as he ruffled his brother’s hair. Giving a small smile, he nodded as he motioned for him to follow.

“Come on, now. We still have your birthday party to look forward to! Besides, don’t you wanna show our new neighbors your disc?”

“Yeah! Tubbo’s gonna love it!”

Letting Wilbur carry him back to their little home on the outskirts of town, Tommy smiled as he traced his fingers along the pattern of the packaged disc. Nodding, he laid his head against his brother as he spoke up once more.

“Wilbah? What’s the name of this song?”

“Hm? Oh, that song is called-”

“-Cat.”

Silence filled the group as they turned to face the Minecraft family. Phil refused to face his sons or his wife, opting to stare at his hands. Techno kept his eyes closed, refusing to open them. Whether it was to put up a front or to be alone with his thoughts, no one knew. Wilbur and Ghostbur just stared ahead, the image of their younger brother being so small stuck in their heads. Kristin just wished that one of them would look at her. She opened her mouth to address her family, but she was beaten to it.

“You just...left them. Why?”

Phil pressed his lips together as he turned to make eye contact with Puffy, taking note of the anger in her eyes.

“I did what I thought was best at the time. It was for their own good.”

A scoff escaped from her throat as she shook her head. Puffy stood up, prepared to scold the man, only to be cut off by Tubbo.

“He waited every day for you two. He’d collect items and write down his fun moments so that he could share with you two. Tell me, Philza, Techno, when was the last time you spent a birthday with Tommy?”

They couldn’t answer him. They genuinely couldn’t remember, and that was something Tubbo already knew. They could only stay silent, could only think.

Tubbo smiled as he leaned back in his seat, humming as he watched the sky. Peering over at Tommy, he was pleased to see the relaxed and content expression that painted his friend’s face. Tommy hummed as he faced Tubbo, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. The volume of Chat themselves died down, mumbles and whispers exchanged as the voices enjoyed the tune. Turning back to face the sky, Tubbo nodded as he spoke up.

“This is nice.”

It was peaceful, beautiful even. Pure bliss and peace filled everyone as Tommy’s content feeling flooded into them, reminding them of their connection. This time was different, however. This time, they didn’t mind sharing such lovely feelings with the young boy. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and it was all thanks to the bond that was shared between two best friends. In that very moment, everything was perfect.

“All jokes aside, what actually is a fetish?”

#The Reluctant Hero's Tale #The Reluctant Hero's Tale AU #I'M BACK BITCHES WOOOOOO

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 4 years ago

Text

Buried Alive

Summary: Reader wakes up buried in a coffin, Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack make it to her just in time.

TW/CW: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Reader is buried alive, Reader has a dislocated shoulder and broken leg, Dean has a break down, ghost makes an appearance, also Reader writes a goodbye note which is in italics, gets kind of angsty/sad at times.

Requested?: Yes! A lovely Anon said, “Hello love, may I pleaaase request a dean x reader one shot where she gets Burried alive (and she's already injured) because they got separated on a hunt and she only have a few minutes left before dean saves her and after she wakes up he gets a panic attack because he was so scared of losing her and she's the only one who can calm him down?? Pretty pleaaase can you include details I looove when I can picture every scene especially while she's trapped...”

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: This got pretty long pretty quick lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! It was really fun to write and I tried to put in lots of detail. As always, requests are open and love to all!

[This gif highkey lowkey hurts my heart...]

Your POV

Waking up in a dark, musty, wooden box is never a good thing, especially when your leg is bent the wrong way and your right shoulder is throbbing from being out of socket. Unfortunately, that’s exactly where I’ve found myself upon waking up. I try to remember what happened and recall separating from Sam and Dean, after some debate, to draw out the ghost we were hunting. I was looking around the old church and got knocked out.

Out of instinct, I press the palm of my left hand against the worn, splintery wood and try to force it upwards. Upon doing so, soft, damp dirt flows into the cracks. I drop the lid back down as my heart begins racing. I force myself to stay calm as I search to see what might be left in my pockets. Unfortunately, whatever put me down here thought to take all my weapons. It’s not like they’d do me any good at the moment anyway, I suppose. I do, however, find my phone in my jacket pocket. With a shaking hand, I pull it out and press the home button, I hope and pray, to whatever deity might actually be listening, that I have bars. No such luck.

I just so happen to glance at the lid above me and in the dim light of my phone, I see them. Long scratch marks litter the underside of the lid. Suddenly, the burger and fries that I had for lunch starts preparing for launch sequence in my stomach. I look back at the screen of my phone as if I might have miraculously gotten bars in the span of the past few minutes and of course find none. What I do find just might be my savior. I train my attention on my phone’s lock screen picture of me, Dean, Sammy, Cas, and Jack leaning against the hood of Baby. “Alright Cas, you there?” I pause, wondering what to tell him, “I don’t know where I am but I know that I’m buried underground. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here but I can feel the oxygen is getting low.” I might not have enough time left. I decide to type out a goodbye message on the notes app on my phone:

Hey boys,

I might not make it out of this musty ass box so I thought I’d write this out here. I want you guys to know that I love you. Take care of each other and please for the love of all that’s good don’t try to bring me back, no matter how manageable you think the cost is. I never thought that I’d go out this way, always wanted it to be a blaze of glory, but here I am. Remember the good times we’ve had and remember me as the badass hunter that I once was and not the dumbass hunter who managed to get herself caught by a spook and shoved in a pine box. Anyway, tell Baby I love her. Dean, I love you too. Keep moving forward for me. There’s a letter in my journal for you.

I’ll be waiting for you boys on the other side,

In the words of Jimi Hendrix, “Excuse me while I kiss the sky.”

I consider trying to add a Metallica or Zeppelin reference as I finish typing the last sentence but can’t think of one that would fit and hit save instead. Darkness creeps in on the edges of my vision before overtaking me.

Dean’s POV

“Where the hell is she, man?” I ask Sammy as I pace back and forth across the room, “She should’ve been back a while ago and all my calls are going to voicemail. I’ve even left voicemails and got nothing.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sammy answers as he peeks out the blinds on the window into the night, “We could-” he’s interrupted as a flap of wings is heard. I turn around and find Cas and Jack both standing there.

Before I can ask, Cas launches into an explanation, “(Y/N) prayed to me. She said she’s buried underground and that the oxygen is getting low.”

My heart leaps into my throat. Damn it, why did I let her go off alone? I go to punch the closest wall but Sammy catches my hand, “Can you figure out where she is?”

“Yes,” Jack answers, “We would’ve gone straight there but we... don’t have shovels.” I grab my keys and jacket and race out the door with Sammy, Cas, and Jack right behind me, Cas spouting off coordinates. We get in the car and Sammy gives me directions and I pull out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. I have to get to her as quickly as possible. I can’t lose her. Not now and not to something like this. She deserves to go down fighting not buried and helpless. In the rearview mirror, I can see Cas’s expression of concern and Jack’s knee bouncing as he fidgets with his shirt. I’m reminded that I’m not the only one worried about (Y/N) and take a rain check on my own impending melt down. Sammy shakily points at a turn up ahead and I take it on two wheels.

After a couple more turns, I pull off on the side of the road behind an old beat-up clunker, beside a wooded area. Sammy leads us straight to the coordinates and we get to digging. I’m almost certain that the guys can hear my heart pounding as I hope with all I’ve got that she isn’t buried very deep. Finally, as our shovels hit wood, I carefully jump into the hole to pull the lid off of the coffin. I toss the lid to the side and my heart takes up residence in my throat once again as I discover that she’s out cold. I quickly and carefully wrap my arms under her and lift her up to Sammy who lays her gently on the ground as I climb out of the hole.

When I drop to my knees on the leaf strewn ground beside her and pull her into my lap, Cas has his palm on her forehead, “She’s still alive. I've healed the break in her leg but her shoulder needs to be popped back into place before I can heal it.”

Sammy lays a hand on Cas’s shoulder, “We can worry about the shoulder later.”

I pull her close to me, careful of her shoulder, and beg, “Baby, you gotta wake up.” I kiss her forehead, “Please wake up. I can’t lose you.” It’s silent as I let my tears fall. Jack drops his knees on the ground beside us and Sammy and Cas squat down as well. They’re careful to give us space but I know they’re silently hoping just as hard as I am that she’ll wake up quickly.

“Guys, I think we should-” Sammy stops as she takes a deep breath.

“Hey sweetheart, you awake?” I ask as my heart starts racing. I brush her hair out of her eyes. It takes a few seconds but her eyes finally open.

She curls into my chest as I hold her tighter, “I was so scared that I’d lose you.” I can’t stop the flood of tears that break through the dam.

She slowly sits up and throws her legs to either side of me before scooting closer and wrapping her arms around my waist, loosely due to her shoulder, “Shhh, it’s okay baby. I’m here.”

I say nothing and bury my face in her neck and try my best to stop crying, “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go off alone. I should’ve been there with you. I should’ve-”

She stops me, “Don’t do that, Dean. Remember how we talked about this?”

“But I-”

“No, it was my decision. It’s not your fault,” she says calmly. She rubs my back and begins humming Metallica and soon I’ve managed to stop crying but unfortunately, I continue hiccupping. I pull away and look over her shoulder at the guys. As much as I don’t want to let her go yet, we need to get her shoulder fixed and I’m sure they want hugs too. She kisses my cheek before getting up.

She hugs all three of them before returning to Sammy, “Can you pop this back in place for me?”

“Y-you sure?” he asks, confused as to why she doesn’t want pain killers first.

“Yeah, it’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last,” she chuckles. He pops her shoulder back into place before Cas heals it for her.

Finally, she returns to me and wraps her arms tightly around me, “Let’s get out of here.” We turn to walk out of the woods and pass a church that I didn’t even notice on the way in, that must’ve been the one she wanted to check.

“Uh, guys, we have a problem,” Jack states. I tear my eyes away from the church and look ahead of us. Standing, or rather floating, just a few yards away is the ghost we had been hunting.

I sigh, “Shit, we don’t have any salt or iron with us.”

“No but I know where some is,” (Y/N) says excitedly. How on earth is she so ready to spring back into it right after almost dying?

Your POV I drag Dean with me and the other guys follow as I run into the church. I bolt down the stairs to my right as we enter and find exactly what I’m looking for. A fireplace in one of the offices down here still has iron pokers hanging on its mantle. I remembered seeing them when I came through here the first time. I also happen to remember that there’s a kitchen down here too. I take an iron poker for myself and hand Sam and Dean one, “Cas, Jack, you guys might want to fly the coop. We can handle this.” They look unsure but leave anyway in a whoosh of wings. I take off toward the kitchen but unfortunately find no salt. That’s when Sammy is thrown against a wall. Dean and I whip around to find the ghost holding Sammy by the neck. Dean slashes through it without hesitation and it disappears and Sam regains his breath.

“Please tell me you have some idea of how to get rid of this guy,” I ask Sammy.

“Not quite,” he responds.

Dean looks dumbfounded at both of us, “There’s literally a cemetery right outside.”

“No, he’s pissed off because he wasn’t buried in the church cemetery like he felt he was supposed to be because he was the pastor,” Sammy informs, “The legends say they buried him in an unmarked grave after burning him at the stake for witchcraft.”

“Shit, so we’re not looking for bones then,” Dean mumbles, looking around the office.

“Right now, it looks like all we can do is get the hell out of here and try to dig around for what might be keeping him here,” I explain. With this, we all three high tail it to the car. We have to stop a few times along the way to slash through the ghost but finally, we make it and head off on our way back to the motel.

Once we’re finally back in our motel room, I shrug my jacket off and head for the shower, “I’m gonna clean up really quick and then we can get something to eat and some rest and revisit this case in the morning.” The boys agree so I grab some clean clothes out of my bag and head for a warm, relaxing shower.

I pull of the dirty, sweaty clothes and step under the warm spray. I let the grim and gross wash away some before washing off with the soap. I wash my hair as well and only pull myself out of the shower when my stomach growls. I step out and dry off before pulling on my clothes. I’m working on drying my hair when I step out of the bathroom to find Dean and Sammy both sitting on the end of the bed with tears in their eyes. I tilt my head, “What’s wrong guys?”

I drop the towel on top of my bag and step over in front of Dean as he hands me his phone. Looking down at the screen, I read what I thought I had saved to my notes on my own phone. Apparently, I was so out of it when I typed it up that I accidentally typed it up in a message to Dean and hit send when I thought I hit save. My heart sprints in my chest as I look back up at Dean and try to explain, “Dean, I-”

He says nothing and instead stands and wraps his arms around me to once again pull me in close to his chest. I can feel him shake as he tries to hold back his tears. He pulls away and looks me in the eye, “Did you really think you wouldn’t make it out of that?” I nod solemnly. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, “Well, I’m glad you did. Next time, you can tell me that in person when we go down together, yeah?” I mentally thank him for not mentioning the letter tucked away in my journal.

I nod again as Sammy chuckles, “I should’ve known that even when you think you’re saying your last words, they’re going to be attempts at humor and classic rock references.”

I smile and laugh, “I thought the Hendrix reference was rather poetic.”

Dean looks at me laughs weakly, “I figured you’d have thrown in a Zeppelin or Metallica reference.”

I shake my head as I head for the door because my stomach growls, “I thought about that but I couldn’t think of one that would fit. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin some of your favorite bands for you.” Together the three of us head for dinner but I know in the back of my mind that we’ll be recovering from today’s events for a while to come.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii

Dean Winchester Taglist: @akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #spn #spn imagine #spn imagines

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clumsyclifford · 3 years ago

Note

hello bella’s ask box it’s been a min damn.

so the vibes are fucking everywhere w the music in the lab today so i’ve mostly been ignoring it but then unforgettable by thomas rhett started playing and my brain was immediately like This Is a Fic Song

more importantly it is a Bella Fic Song

last time you not so subtly wanted me to prompt u w w thomas rhett song you told me to do that here so i am back again w another song from ur boy

okay i def snuck out just to send this so i gotta go now but this felt important laksdjdld

ok ily bye 💛

hi sam :)

so.................... i was stuck on what to write you for your birthday fic. you sent me this ask prompting me with a thomas rhett song that i had literally been meaning to write a fic based on for almost a full year. the puzzle pieces just aligned REALLY nicely on this one.

happy birthday, my love. there's gonna be a LOT more sappy shit in the ao3 notes, but please know that my life is irreversibly changed for the better because i met you. i am dangerous close to sounding like glinda from wicked and i really want you to get to READ this fic so please see ao3 for more schmaltz. i love you so much.

tw for alcohol

read here on ao3

Every life has a moment that imprints on memory like ink on a fresh page. The kind of moment that permanently alters the trajectory of that life, that marks the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. Some people are lucky enough to have more than one. Some people’s minds are laden with crystallized memories. But there’s always at least one. One completely unforgettable moment.

For Jack, this moment happens twenty-four minutes after he enters the club.

Twenty-three minutes after he enters the club, Zack returns with his and Jack's second beers and says, "There's some guy at the bar who's totally your type."

"Yeah?" Jack cranes his neck, but he can't quite see the bar from where he is. "My type how? Not just 'lonely and drunk,' right? My standards have gotten higher, you know."

Zack hands Jack his beer. "He's cute and he's wearing a One Direction shirt, and I'm pretty sure he's drinking a margarita.”

"Oh shit," Jack says. "That checks all my boxes."

"I know it does," says Zack, winner of the Wingman Of The Decade award. He claps Jack on the shoulder. Jack sidesteps people until he gets eyes on the bar and scans for a cute guy in a One Direction shirt drinking a margarita.

Twenty-four minutes after Jack enters the bar, he sees Alex.

And everything changes forever.

"Woah," Jack says. His gut is feeling weird and it’s probably unrelated to the beer and a half under his belt.

"What?"

"The guy at the bar," Jack says, grabbing Zack's arm. "Zack. You grossly undersold my future husband to me."

"Your future husband?" Zack sounds amused, but Jack isn't kidding.

"Remember this moment," he says seriously, giving Zack a sloppy pat on the bicep before moving away from him, towards the bar, towards the cute guy with the One Direction shirt who's making Jack understand clairvoyance. "Remember this so you can tell the story at our wedding!"

"Your wedding," Zack repeats.

"Our fucking wedding!" Jack insists, more loudly as space and drunk people fill the growing gap between him and Zack. Zack just gives him a good-luck-and-godspeed wave.

Seconds later, Jack is at the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The cute guy in question looks up, surprised. Jack practically reels. It's a miracle people aren't flocking to this guy; he's not just cute, he's gorgeous. Bleach-blond hair — clearly from a bottle, which somehow Jack finds more attractive — flops over his forehead in a stubborn commitment to the emo fringe that died out a decade ago, and long lashes frame brown eyes that rival the glossy chestnut color of the bar. Add the five o'clock shadow and the sharply angled jaw and Jack's speechless.

Fortunately it's not his turn to speak. "I have a drink," says the guy, who is rapidly progressing from Cute Guy At Bar to Possible Soulmate At Bar. He quirks a smile. Jack's done for. "I'll buy you a drink, though."

Jack sets his partially-drunk beer on the bar top and slides it as far as he can reach. "Okay," he says.

Possible Soulmate laughs. He slides his margarita away from him, too, pushing it into the space of another person sitting down the bar. "Touché. Okay, you can buy me a drink."

"Well, hey, I don't want you to waste yours," Jack says reasonably. He retrieves his beer and then Possible Soulmate's drink. "I'll get the next one."

Possible Soulmate smiles. Jack is going to need his name eventually. "I appreciate your commitment to environmentally-friendly consumption of alcohol."

Jack blinks. "Yeah," he says. "That was a lot of big words, but sure. No problem. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Alex." Alex. Jack can see the wedding invites now.

"Nice to meet you," Jack says. "I like your shirt."

Alex glances down out of instinct as the wide collar of the shirt slips over his shoulder. "Thanks," he says with a chuckle, and looks up at Jack. "I like yours."

With great effort, Jack tears his gaze from Alex's shoulder and the hint of collarbone peeking out, but he would like it on the record that it is tremendously difficult. Fortunately he already knows what shirt he's wearing because he'd agonized over it for several minutes longer than Zack's patience ran, shortly before going out.

"Yeah, Kurt Cobain," he says, nodding with probably too much enthusiasm. "I'm a lead singer guy."

"Really?" Alex tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. "Meaning what?"

"I go for the lead singer types," Jack explains. "Kurt Cobain, Billie Joe Armstrong, you know." He nods at Alex's shirt. "Harry Styles."

"Harry Styles wasn't—" Alex breaks off and snorts. "Eh, whatever. Who cares."

"Wait," Jack says. "Hold the phone. Did you fucking cross out Zayn's face?"

Alex looks down at his shirt again like maybe he'll have forgotten what it looks like. "Oh, my friend did that. But now the shirt is factually accurate."

"If you wanted an accurate shirt you'd have to cross them all out since none of them are in the band anymore," Jack observes.

Alex slowly smiles. "I guess."

"I always liked Zayn," Jack says wistfully. "His solo shit is so good, though."

"It's good," Alex says, kind of in the tone of voice of someone who doesn't really agree but doesn't want to get into it, so Jack leaves it be. They can poll their wedding guests. "I'm really digging Niall's solo shit."

"That's an extremely acceptable answer," Jack says, nodding vigorously. In the moment it slips his mind that he's holding a beer and the liquid begins to slosh out of its container. "Oh shit, fuck, sorry."

"Didn't get me," Alex says, passing Jack a napkin. "Couple too many, I get it."

"What?" Jack is very focused on drying his hands so they don't get sticky and gross. "I'm not drunk."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not!"

"Okay," Alex says lightly, but it's clear he doesn't believe Jack. On the bright side, he doesn't seem bothered by it.

"I am acceptably drunk for a guy in his mid-twenties at a club,” Jack amends. "And you owe me a drink anyway."

"Hey, I intend to buy you that drink," Alex says earnestly. "Another beer?"

Jack shakes his head. "Vodka soda," he says. "It's a special occasion."

"Really! You celebrating something?"

"I am now," Jack says. "Celebrating meeting my future husband."

"Your future husband?"

"You," Jack says, in case it wasn't clear. "It's not every day you meet the man you're gonna marry. I think it calls for a celebratory vodka soda."

Alex stares, obviously expecting Jack to say sike! When Jack does no such thing, he gives a small, incredulous laugh.

"Fair enough," he says. He sounds like he's humoring Jack. That's okay. Jack is serious, but Alex will figure that out on his own time. "I guess you're not wrong. That doesn't happen every day."

A large shadow materializes on Alex's other side, blocking light like some very cliché movie villain. It's not Doc Ock, but it is some tall, burly guy, a leer affixed to his face that's probably been there since Alex's haircut went out of style.

"Hey, baby," he says in an unnervingly deep voice. The part of Jack that isn't super skeezed out is a little jealous. But Burly Guy isn't talking to Jack; Jack may as well be invisible. To Alex, Burly Guy says, "Saw you across the bar and I just had to come over."

Didn't have to, Jack thinks grumpily to himself. You could have stayed across the bar. If you walk away now we’ll pretend we never saw you.

"Can I get you a drink?" Burly Guy asks, and honestly, Jack has no idea what Alex is going to say.

Big Burly Guy with a deep voice a la Morgan Freeman vs. resident beanstalk Jack whose voice sounds like a rejected cartoon character design. What a tough choice.

Jack is just preparing to cut his losses when Alex grabs Jack's wrist, turns to him, and says, "Honey? What do you think?"

Jack's tipsy, but Alex is definitely communicating something with his eyes, and between that and the pet name Jack is pretty sure he's on the same page.

"You want to buy my boyfriend a drink?" Jack asks Big Burly Guy, cranking up the Bitchy energy because he doesn't get to do it a lot and it's kinda fun. His voice has definitely gone vaguely southern-auntie, but he's rolling with it. "Sorry, sugar, this seat's taken. Must be this guy" — he points at himself — "to ride."

"This guy?" Burly Guy echoes, furrowing his eyebrows at Jack and then looking at Alex with profound confusion, like he just doesn't get it. "You're with this guy?"

"Happily," Alex says, glancing back at Jack, who offers him what is definitely a convincingly enamored smile because Jack is legitimately enamored. Alex laces their fingers together and Jack's not delusional, can't be, not when they fit this well together. No way. "So I'm gonna pass on that drink. Sorry, man. No hard feelings."

Burly Guy seems to have some hard feelings. Maybe he didn't get the memo. "Whatever," he says gruffly. "Your loss."

Jack can't resist countering, "Actually it's your loss, sweetums," as Burly Guy retreats. If he dies tonight, he knows who’s responsible.

As soon as he's gone, Alex breaks down laughing, and Jack quickly follows suit. Alex's hand slips from Jack's and begins to tug at the ends of his own hair instead.

"Sugar?"

"I don't know what happened," Jack says/wheezes. "I became possessed by Blanche from Golden Girls.”

"You have to be" — Alex prods Jack's chest — "this guy to ride." He dissolves into giggles and Jack is laughing too but mostly because Alex's laugh is incredibly contagious.

"Look, I don't blame him," Jack says, feeling exhilarated. "You are the best-looking guy in this establishment. He just happened to have creepo vibes."

"I am not the best-looking guy in this establishment," Alex says, grinning at Jack. "Nice of you to say, though."

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"I thought you were Jack."

Jack stares at Alex and Alex doesn't even last a second before he's breaking down laughing yet again.

I'm going to marry you, Jack thinks, and it almost scares him how serious he is about that. He opens his mouth and says, "That wasn't even— that's not even one of the good dad jokes! That's the most boring one!"

"There is no such thing as a boring dad joke."

"You should go into stand-up," Jack says dryly. "You'd tear down the house with this set. I can see it now." He waves a grandiose hand in the air as if painting the marquee into existence, but when he goes to introduce the act he realizes he's missing most of the crucial information. "Alex…something…something. Austin, Texas, one night only."

"Gaskarth," Alex says. "That's my last name."

"Alex Something Gaskarth," Jack loyally amends, and gives Alex a look like, well?

Except Alex is giving Jack that same look. "I only know your first name and you expect me to tell you my full one?"

"Jack Bassam Barakat," Jack says, gesturing impatiently. "Come on, I'm trying to introduce your act here."

"Guess," Alex says.

"Guess?"

"It's a pretty basic middle name," Alex says. "I'll buy you your vodka soda when you guess it."

"Alex," Jack says. "I am not going to guess your middle name. I am so bad at these games and I'm fucking drunk."

"Quitter," Alex says. "Do you want your drink?"

Jack scowls, trying to channel Blanche again, but Alex is apparently immune.

"Give me a hint," he finally concedes.

"It's a British name," Alex says. “Pretty standard British.”

"Are you British?”

Alex nods. "Born and raised. Moved here when I was about…eight? But I'm not an American citizen. I have a green card."

Yet another reason they should be married. Jack could extend his citizenship to Alex. Plus he'd gain British citizenship, which would probably be useful for, like, travel or One Direction stalking or whatever.

"That's sick," Jack says. "I was born in Lebanon. We moved when I was a baby."

"That's so cool," Alex says, sounding genuinely interested. He props his chin on his hand and gives Jack a cheeky smile. "Now guess."

Jack sighs. "Uh, Charles."

"No."

"Darcy."

"Darcy?"

"Margaret."

"Jack."

"You said it's a British name!"

"A British man's name," Alex says, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation.

Jack takes a long pull from his beer, swallows, and says, "Harry."

"No."

They're going to be here awhile. Jack pulls out the seat next to Alex and settles in while he racks his brain for British names.

“Alfred.”

“Nope.”

“John.”

“No.”

“Paul.”

“No.”

“George.” Alex shakes his head. “Ringo.”

“Yup, you finally got it,” Alex says. Jack is over the moon for a split second before it sinks in that Alex is fucking with him. “Alex Ringo Gaskarth. Well done.”

“Fuck off, I’m doing my best here,” Jack says.

“You’re missing one incredibly obvious name,” Alex says. “It’s not that hard.”

“For you,” Jack says. “Because you already know it.” Alex is grinning. Jack likes that he’s enjoying himself. It makes this guessing game fun. Under any other circumstances, this guessing game would not be fun, but Alex makes it fun.

Alex has also finished his mango margarita by now, and Jack’s beer is long since empty. He’s itching for another drink, mainly for something to do with his hands.

As if reading his mind, Alex flags down the bartender, who sidles up with a small smile and says, “What can I get you boys?”

Jack blinks at her. Mostly at her accent, which is not American.

“Vodka soda,” Alex says. To Jack, “I think you’ve earned it.” Jack smiles.

“And a mango margarita,” he puts in to the bartender, “and are you British?”

The bartender looks amused. “I am British,” she says.

“Please help me,” Jack says. “Alex says his middle name is a British name and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it fucking is.”

“Jack, the nice bartender lady has other things to do,” Alex says with a laugh. The nice bartender lady probably does have other things to do, but she shifts her weight and gives Alex an appraising look instead.

“Harry?”

“Tried that,” Jack says, realizing at once that this is a pointless endeavor. The nice bartender lady is going to guess everything Jack’s already guessed and he’ll just have wasted her time. “I’ve tried every member of One Direction, every member of the Beatles, every member of Oasis, every Harry Potter character, every member of the Royal Family—”

At this, Alex coughs conspicuously.

Jack rounds on him. “I have.”

“Edward,” the bartender offers. Alex’s lips are pressed together in a smile and he shakes his head. “Meghan. Kate. Richard. Dick. Philip.”

A lightbulb goes off as the bartender is listing Royal Family names. Jack wants to kick himself. “Oh my— William?”

“Yeahhhh, there you go! See, it was easy,” Alex says, grinning widely.

“William,” the bartender repeats with a charming little laugh. Her lipstick is bright with clean lines, an impressive feat considering Jack has seen her bustling around this bar for almost an hour now. “I had an ex called William.”

“Oh no,” Alex says. “I hope he didn’t ruin the name for you.”

“Please,” the bartender says, waving him off. “The only thing he ruined for me was a few meters of drywall.” Jack and Alex must have twin looks of concern, because she explains, “Anger issues. No worries, boys, I sent him packing, and a vodka soda for you, and a mango marg for you.”

She slides their drinks into waiting hands and starts to turn away. “Wait a sec,” Jack says.

The bartender turns back to him with wide Bambi eyes. “Did I fuck up the drink? I’ve made it a million—”

“No no no,” Jack assures her. “I just wanted to know your name. You rescued me from an eternal guessing game, you’re my hero.”

The bartender smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maisie,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Maisie,” Alex says. “Thank you for the alcohol.”

Maisie laughs again as she moves to the other side of the bar.

“William,” Jack says, swirling his drink with the miniature straw. “God damn. I can’t believe I missed William.”

“You got close,” Alex says. “You guessed Liam twice. And thanks for the drink.”

“Same to you,” Jack says. “It’s a good drink. Yours, I mean. You know what offends me, though? Why aren’t mango margaritas orange?”

Alex furrows his brow. “Why the fuck would they be orange?”

“Mangos are orange! Fruity drinks should be the same color as their fruit.”

“Mangos are not fucking orange,” Alex says with an incredulous laugh. “They’re straight-up yellow.”

“They’re orange with yellow tendencies,” Jack says, “but mostly orange.”

“They are entirely yellow,” Alex says. “Coldplay even wrote a song about them. They were all yellow.”

“They’re orange,” Jack insists, but now Alex has moved on completely and is loudly singing Coldplay.

“I came along! I wrote a song foooor youuuuu! And all the things you do!”

“You’re ignoring the truth!”

“And it was called ‘Yellow’!” Alex shouts.

“Okay, I surrender! Sheesh. You win.”

“Thank you,” Alex says placidly, like he hasn’t just been yelling obnoxiously over the (worse, but much louder) club music. “I’m going to enjoy my yellow mango marg very much.”

“And I will enjoy my victory drink,” Jack says, lifting his glass. Alex lifts his. It smells like mango and tequila. They clink the rims together. “To William.”

“To William,” Alex agrees, laughing.

The DJ plays a song Jack loves to hate from hearing it on the radio so many times and Alex is out of his seat before Jack’s managed to put down his drink.

“What are—”

“I love this song, I want to dance,” Alex insists. The implication is clearly that he wants Jack to dance with him, which is like. What is Jack gonna do, say no?

Alex must anticipate some kind of argument, though, because with a glint in his eye he adds lightly, “These are the kinds of things you’ll have to do if we’re married.”

On the one hand, he’s clearly making fun. But on the other hand, the fact that Alex was a stranger an hour ago and is still comfortable teasing Jack about suggesting they’re going to get married speaks volumes. Alex is smiling. They’ve known each other for less than an hour — a drink and a half each — and Alex is smiling at his own joke about marrying Jack. Like he likes that Jack said it first. Like he likes Jack.

“Just wait ‘til you learn all the weird shit you’ll have to do when we’re married,” Jack says, sliding out of his stool.

Any sane person would have run away by now. Even Jack knows when he’s coming on too strong.

But Alex does the opposite; Alex grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the dance floor.

“Fair warning,” Alex says. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack says, and then eats his words not two seconds later when Alex demonstrates how very much he doesn’t know how to dance. All of his limbs seem to move as their own entities, zero synchronization. A couple surrounding people take various minor assaults before taking the hint and giving Alex some space, but this does not stop him. “Okay,” Jack says loudly over the music. “You were right. But luckily neither do I.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Alex says.

Jack does the sprinkler. Alex snorts. He does the wave, very poorly, and Alex continues it, also very poorly.

“Mr. Moves,” Alex says. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Check this one out.” Jack does the running man with extreme focus. Alex laughs, leaning towards Jack as he does. Jack stops dancing so he doesn’t accidentally hit Alex, who is suddenly much closer and who somehow smells like pine and flannel and fall and winter in one and is the best-looking person in blue jeans and checkered Vans on this dance floor. Far from the only person, but without question the prettiest.

Fuck.

“I don’t think I can do that one,” says Alex, grinning. Jack nods at him like, try it, so Alex does, proving himself right. He almost takes Jack’s eye out.

“Yeesh, okay, you’re— alright, take it easy,” Jack says, swatting Alex’s wayward hand away and laughing. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

Surrendering the running man, Alex starts up with some bizarre hand-wavey foot-kicky thing, singing along to the music.

“Do you seriously like this song?” Jack asks, attempting to imitate Alex’s dance. “Dance,” heavy quote marks implied.

Alex shoots Jack a look. “Hell yeah. What, you don’t?”

“It’s just…always on,” Jack says. “Everywhere. How are you not sick of it?”

“Because it fuckin’ slaps!” Alex looks incensed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised you’re a pop music person when you’re literally in a One Direction shirt.”

“I’m a lots of music person,” Alex counters. “Including pop music, yeah. You don’t like pop music?”

“I sometimes do,” Jack says. “I like Taylor Swift. Britney Spears.”

“Okay, well, you’d have to be insane not to like them.”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously sane.”

Alex barks a laugh. “Drunk but sane.”

“I am not drunk!” That’s probably a lie by now.

“You’re not convincing me otherwise,” Alex says. “I’m confident you’ve been drunk this whole time.”

“You haven’t exactly been an innocent bystander,” Jack says. “You bought me a drink, and you’re gonna buy us shots in a minute.”

“I did— I what?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and this time he drags Alex off the dance floor, back to the bar. “I can see the future, I forgot to tell you.”

“You—” Alex laughs again and leans on the bar, trapping both his elbows between his stomach and the bartop. “You’re buying the next round.”

“Oh, happily,” Jack says. “I’m actively trying to get you drunk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Studies show I am 75% more attractive to people when they’re drunk,” says Jack.

Alex turns to him. Without missing a beat, he says smoothly, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to get any more attractive.”

Fuck. Actually, fuck. Seriously. Fuck.

“You must be drunk already, then,” Jack says.

Alex smiles serenely. “I feel pretty sober.”

“Exactly what a drunk person would say,” Jack says. “J’accuse, William.”

Alex laughs. “In that case, your studies are right.”

Jack’s probably blushing. He does that in extreme cases only, but this is nothing if not an extreme case. Alex is fucking relentless.

Maisie the bartender is back, and Alex orders them shots of tequila. Somewhere in the recesses of Jack’s mind, this unlocks a memory, and he snaps his fingers. “I should hunt down my friend, he loves tequila.”

“Friend?” Alex looks around while Maisie pours their shots. “You ditched your friend?”

“He told me to,” Jack says. “He’s probably gonna pick up some girl. Actually, he probably already has.”

“Really,” Alex says, sounding amused.

“Zack’s a strong silent type,” Jack explains. “Emphasis on strong. We’re single guys in our mid-twenties, Alex. We’re not going to clubs for the atmosphere.”

“Admit it,” Alex says. “You a little bit are.”

Jack bites his lip. “Fine, I like the atmosphere,” he admits, more affected than he should be that Alex seems to have picked up on this about him. “And the alcohol. And the chances I’ll meet my future husband, which clearly paid off. Zack will never admit it, but I’m pretty sure he likes trying to set me up with random people in clubs.”

Alex laughs. “He set you up with me?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says. “He wingmanned me hard. You can thank him in your vows.”

This only serves to make Alex laugh harder. “I’ll thank him now,” he says with a grin. Taking his cue, Jack grabs his shot glass. Alex does the same. “To Zack.”

“To Zack!” Jack cheers, and they both down their shots.

“Me?”

Jack whirls around and trips straight into Zack. “Zack!” he says brightly. “We toasted you.”

“I heard,” Zack says. “Why, exactly?”

“I’m Alex,” says Alex, holding out a hand. Zack shakes it. “Apparently you set us up?”

“Oh,” Zack says. “I wouldn’t really say that. I just kind of pointed Jack in this direction. If you can put up with him, that’s all you.”

“I was gonna come find you anyway,” Jack says. “We’re doing tequila shots. Next round on me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Zack says. “Count me in.”

They can’t come up with a toast for their second round so they just knock it back with an ambiguous cheer; then Zack offers to buy another, and Jack’s not about to refuse. It’s starting to hit just right, so he’s buzzed but not incoherent. All his most brilliant ideas come in this state.

Case in point: as Maisie is pouring them their third round, Jack suddenly says, “Maisie! Do a shot with us!”

Maisie looks up and laughs. “I’m not supposed to drink on the job,” she says.

“It’s not drinking, it’s bonding,” Jack insists.

“Yeah, we’re forming lasting friendships,” Alex jumps in.

Zack looks entertained. “You guys know each other?”

“As of half an hour ago, yes,” Maisie says.

“Maisie here helped me guess Alex’s middle name,” Jack explains. “Which is William. Like the prince.”

“I feel like I missed so much,” Zack says, half to himself. He shrugs and nods at Maisie. “One shot. On me. For Jack. We won’t tell.”

Maybe it’s because Zack is buff and has cool tattoos or just has good vibes or whatever, but Maisie hesitates only a second before inclining her head. “Just one, and no blabbing,” she says, meeting all of their eyes in turn. Everyone nods solemnly, and Maisie discreetly pours herself a fourth shot.

“Hell yes!” Jack whoops as they all take a shot glass. “To Maisie!”

“To Maisie!” Everyone echoes, including Maisie with a wry grin.

The third shot goes down smoother than the first two. Jack swallows his easily, as does Alex. Maisie puckers her face a bit. Zack has zero reaction, because Zack’s just kinda like that.

“While I’m here, I was hoping to get another beer,” Zack says.

“On it,” Maisie says immediately, giggling. “Thanks for the shot, boys. You’ve kept me far more entertained tonight than my usual shift provides.”

“You can give a toast at our wedding,” Jack says to her. Zack’s eyes widen a little, Alex snorts, and Maisie laughs.

“I’d be honored,” she says. “Back to work now. You need anything, let me know.”

“Seriously, Jack?”

“What?” Jack gives Zack an innocent smile. He pats Zack on the cheek. “Don’t worry, sugar, you can give a toast too.”

Alex laughs. Zack stares at him and shakes his head. “You’re insane,” he says, but he says that roughly twice a day so he’s still below his quota. “I’ll leave you two alone. Come find me when you wanna go. If…” He eyes Alex. “...Just…yeah.”

And with these eloquent words, he disappears with his beer into the crowd.

“I like him,” Alex announces.

“Me too,” Jack says. He turns back to Alex. “Back to the dance floor?”

“Get out of my brain,” Alex says. “I’d like to see your drunken running man.”

“It is gonna blow your fucking mind,” Jack promises, and Alex laughs again.

They’re not even being gross like everyone else. Alex has pulled Jack into an exaggerated tango performed mostly with missteps when it happens: someone shoves them aside as they walk past, and Alex loses his balance and falls into Jack, who just barely manages to catch them both. He doesn’t manage to stop his arm from winding around Alex’s waist. To be fair, he doesn’t try very hard.

Jack’s first thought is homophobe, but then he spots the offender, lumbering off with heavy footfalls, and it’s Burly Guy from earlier. The guy who tried and failed to pick Alex up.

All of this registers as Alex slowly regains his footing. “Damn, who pissed in that dude’s Cheerios?”

“It’s the guy from before who tried to buy you a drink,” Jack says, pointing at his back.

Alex whips his head around. “Seriously? Asshole.”

Jack chooses not to observe that from his vantage point, being shoved close together is hardly a dick move. In intent, sure, but not in actuality; Jack’s enjoying the proximity a great deal. Like, a lot.

Like, his hand is still on Alex’s hip, subtly keeping Alex close, and Alex has his arm around Jack’s shoulders from their dance and he’s not moving, either.

“Yeah,” Jack says. They’d already been on the outskirts and now they’re off to the side of everyone, wallflowers.

Alex breathes a laugh and looks back at Jack. He doesn’t step back or even lean away, even though their faces are too close to be friendly now. Jack hadn’t really been expecting friendly, but they’ve been tightrope-walking between sides, and if neither of them breaks this up then they’ll be irreversibly left on one end.

Jack has no intention of moving away. He likes this end of the tightrope. For all he cares, they could cut the tightrope and free-fall together.

“You’re pretty good at bad tango-ing,” Alex says, reaching up to brush away the sweaty fringe that’s clinging to his forehead.

Jack grins. “Well, you know what they say. It takes two.”

Alex kisses him so suddenly that Jack almost loses his balance.

He tastes like tequila. That’s all Jack gets before they’re not kissing anymore. The room feels quiet and then unforgivably loud the next second, and Alex is flushed and smiling nervously, and Jack is smiling too, not nervous at all.

“Did I tell you I’m in a band?” Alex asks in a rush.

Jack’s brain struggles to keep up. He can’t remember Alex mentioning a band, but he’s also distracted by wanting to kiss Alex again. There’s no understating the power of wanting to kiss someone over failing to clock anything they say. “What?”

“I’m in a band,” Alex says. “Not as a job, just like, for fun.”

“Oh,” says Jack.

“I’m the lead singer,” Alex says, with a flickering look down at Jack’s shirt.

“Oh,” says Jack, because, like, oh. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What, here?” Alex meets his eyes. “With all these people around?”

“You kissed me first,” Jack says. “Let me kiss you and then we can call it even.”

“Okay,” Alex says, and Jack’s kissing him before the word’s really out of his mouth.

And he tastes like tequila and mango and sugar and the color yellow and the sweat of the dance floor and God, it’s good. It’s like kissing a memory, except this memory is still here, not frozen in time, not trapped in an ornate frame. He’s creating a memory that he knows he’ll relive for the rest of his life.

Somehow, though he doesn’t know the end of this chapter, he knows the end of the book.

Alex’s warm palm cradling Jack’s cheek to hold him steady, fingers splayed out like a star; Alex’s other hand grazing skin over the collar of Jack’s shirt. Alex singing Coldplay in Jack’s ear. Alex’s blue jeans and his checkered Vans and his ridiculous One Direction tank top. Alex holding Jack’s hand and calling him honey to get Burly Guy to leave him alone. Grinning as he shoots down guess after guess for the elusive middle name. Laughing at Jack’s stupid dance moves. Knocking back a shot like it’s nothing. Smiling when Jack says they’re going to get married, never moving away, only ever closer.

Alex sitting undisturbed at the bar, ankles crossed, and Jack seeing him from across the room like something out of a goddamn Hallmark movie and just knowing.

He tugs Alex closer but Alex is already pulling away with a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. He smoothes a hand over a crease in Alex’s shirt and nods. “Taxi’s on me if we go back to your place.”

“Sucker, I was gonna suggest that anyway,” Alex says with a quiet laugh. “You should tell Zack. Don’t wanna just leave him.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “He knows.”

“He knows?”

“Zack and I are brothers in clairvoyance,” Jack says. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I knew you could see the future,” Alex says. “You never told me Zack could, too.”

“Zack can see everyone’s future,” says Jack. “I can only see mine.”

“Yeah? What’s your future look like now?”

Jack filters out several inappropriate comments. It’s hard when Alex is smirking, clearly baiting him. “I told you,” he says. “You, me, vows, rings, the works.”

“Not that future,” Alex says. “I’m talking about the immediate one.”

It takes everything in Jack not to get down on one knee and say so was I. There’s a tilt in Alex’s head, like a dog listening carefully for a familiar sound.

“Honestly?” Jack says, and Alex nods. “I think it’s more fun if we find out together.”

3 notes · View notes

type40thiefoflight · 4 years ago

Text

Things I wish had/hadn’t happened over the course of the series, Part 2 (Part 1):

Had:

1. Scoobynatural should have been a Gabriel episode. It’s exactly the kind of stunt he’d pull, just look at Changing Channels.

2. Becky and her family confirmed as being among the people Jack un-snapped

3.. Sam keeping his powers after killing Lilith

4. Sam becoming the new Bobby and using the MOL bunker as a research hub, safe-house, or stop-over point for hunters

5. Sam finding out Ketch sicced the hell hound on Eileen And going “Sam Freakin’ Winchester” on him

6. Wayward Sisters spinoff

7. Brink back the rock/paper/scissors and prank wars

8. Dean rescues Cas but he has to leave his grace behind since that’s what gives the Empty its hold on him as an angel. It’s a sacrifice Cas is more than happy to make. Dean quits hunting and they move into a house by a lake so Dean can go fishing whenever he wants. He opens a repair shop specializing in classic cars. The entire front yard is a salvage yard with a metal shed that’s got a lift and a pit for car repairs. The backyard is home to Cas’ bee boxes and their vegetable garden that Dean uses for burger toppings and pies. Cas’ artisanal honey and Dean’s pies are very popular at the local farmer’s market.

This is absolutely meant to be a parallel to Cain retiring and keeping bees.

Hadn’t:

1. That stupid fight with Dean and Lucifer where they flew around like Peter Pan

2. That stupid “fight” between Michael and Lucifer in 15x19 where they hurled grace balls (?) at each other

3. Billie suddenly being the bad guy. We already had Chuck wanting to delete his stories; a secondary antagonist wasn’t necessary. There was no lead-up to her desire to put everyone back and take over.

4. Jack becoming God and staying fused with Amara. He keeps the powers, but doesn’t assume the responsibility. Him simply existing as the Light to Amara’s Dark is more than enough to restore balance once he releases her. She wasn’t using her power as the Darkness to influence anything and up until he got fed up with his worlds, Chuck hadn’t used his power as God to influence anything since the Winchester Gospels. There was no proof that Jack had to act as God in order to keep the balance.

5. Crowley should have been a fallen angel, not the son of a witch. He’s the demon counterpart to Balthazar: collecting celestial, infernal, and obscure artifacts, hiding from his superiors, and just having fun on Earth. He can fluently speak Enochian, which in-show is only spoken by angels. He just happens to have an angel blade, know what it is and that it can kill angels, and come up with the absolutely brilliant idea of melting them down into bullets so he doesn’t have to hide an obviously celestial weapon. The strongest piece of evidence for Crowley being an angel: How was he able to withstand possessing Sam at the same time as Gadreel? Being directly exposed to his grace should have smote him on the spot.

#spn #supernatural

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samsexualdeancurious · 4 years ago

Text

Boy Shorts (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 1,743

Summary: The reader has an after-dinner surprise for Sam

Warnings: nipple play, implied further smut

Betaed by @manawhaat

Written for @saxxxology for her February 2020 Angel fic

---

The crinkle of the red tissue paper is soft but still feels like a jet engine in the quiet of the dimly-lit bedroom. You carefully peel back the paper, biting your lower lip as the contents of the classy black box are revealed - a pair of boy shorts, a bralette, and matching robe, all made of soft burgundy silk edged with black lace.

You really hope Sam likes it.

“Y/N?”

You quickly refold the tissue paper and put the lid on the box before shoving it under the bed, behind your shoes where you know Sam definitely won’t look.

“Yeah?” you call back, opening the bedroom door and poking your head out.

Sam is coming down the hall, looking like sex on legs in his gym shorts and plain grey t-shirt. It’s not a look you ever appreciated on a man but then you saw it on Sam and now it’s one of your favorites, especially now. He’s clearly post-workout, shirt clinging to him in all the best ways and skin shining with sweat under the hallway lights. He has his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few wayward strands escaping to cling to his face.

“I’m gonna go jump in the shower,” he says as he reaches you, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Wanna join me?”

You laugh, brushing an errant strand of hair off his forehead. “Save water?”

He grins, wicked and mischievous. “Of course.”

You laugh, shaking your head fondly, and allow him to lead you down the hall.

Friday comes too soon and not soon enough, and starts out perfectly with breakfast in bed provided by Sam. There are few things you love more than cuddling up against his side, especially if there’s food involved. Sam’s not a professional chef by any means but he’s great at breakfast foods.

The day is a lazy one, morning and early afternoon spent lounging around the bunker together. Dean is out celebrating “unattached drifter Christmas” and Cas took Jack on a minor hunt to give you and Sam space for the day. You don’t really need it - you end up snuggled together in the “Dean Cave” and watching the first Harry Potter movie. Far from the most romantic thing you could be doing but you don’t mind. It’s been so busy lately with back to back hunts, and it’s nice to just spend time with Sam.

“Hey,” Sam murmurs as the credits start to roll, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “I, um. I might’ve made dinner plans for us.”

You smile, turning your head to catch his lips in a soft kiss. “Dinner plans, huh? Good thing I made after-dinner plans, then.”

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “After dinner plans?”

“Shh.” You kiss him again. “Don’t ask me to spoil your surprise. Where are we going for dinner?”

“That new Italian place.”

“So, wear a dress?”

He smiles, forehead resting against yours. “Not if you don’t want to but the dress code is nicer so you should probably keep that in mind.”

You laugh, gently shoving him away. “I’ll go get changed.”

Sam wears his best suit, the one that perfectly highlights both his shoulder-to-waist ratio and his impossibly long legs. The sight of him standing in the library waiting for you was almost enough for you to forgo dinner all together and skip right to the after-dinner plans but you manage to keep yourself under control and it’s worth it to have Sam tripping over his words when he sees you in your favorite new dress, hair perfectly styled and just the right amount of makeup on.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he inquires, reaching out to settle his hands on your waist.

“Must’ve done something right,” you reply with a grin. “Take me to dinner, Sam?”

He does exactly that and is a perfect gentleman the whole night, treating you like a princess - or a queen. It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve been able to go out, just the two of you, and it’s been even longer since you’ve gone anywhere nicer than a bar or diner. In general, the hunting life does not lend itself to having regular date nights, let alone nice ones.

Still, you can’t wait to get home. You’re not wearing Sam’s surprise yet - it doesn’t really work under dresses - but you can just imagine the soft touch of the silk on your skin, the way he’ll settle his hands on your waist, the bright way he’ll look at you.

You crash back into the bunker, lips locked as you make your way through the garage, down the stairs, across the war room, and into the library. Sam’s body is huge against your own - all lean, powerful muscle and huge hands that immediately start pulling at your close. He lets out a needy whine when you push him away.

“Patience,” you chuckle. “After dinner surprise, remember?”

His eyes are wild but he allows you to seat him in one of the library chairs after you turn it to face away from the table and the entrance to the hallways.

“Sit here,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Sam groans but nods and you hurry down the halls to your shared bedroom. The box is exactly where you left it, tucked neatly behind your shoes, and you set it on the end of the bed before you take off your clothes. As soon as you’re naked, you open the box and carefully lift each item from its tissue paper bed.

He’s going to love this.

Sam is exactly where you left him, waiting patiently with his back to you. You could do this in your bedroom but Sam’s been whispering about fucking you in the library for months now, and tonight, with everyone away, is the perfect night for it.

“Don’t move,” you call to him, stepping carefully onto the hardwood of the library so your heels don’t make too much noise.

Sam jumps, startled but obeys.

“Good boy.”

You cross to the table behind him and boost yourself up to sit on the edge, arranging your robe so the right amount of everything is revealed and crossing your legs before you lean back on your hands.

“Sam,” you say softly when you’re ready. “C’mere, baby.”

He hesitates a moment before looking over his shoulder. The minute his eyes land on you, his breath catches in his throat.

“Y/N,” he breathes, scrambling to his feet and across the room. “Fuck, baby, you…” he comes to a stop right in front of you, hands reaching to just skim over your shoulders and down your arms. “Oh, my god.”

Your cheeks burn and you duck your head shyly, grinning. “You like it?”

“Like it?” His hands come up to rest on either side of your neck, drawing you into a soft kiss. “Babe, you look fucking gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?”

He kisses you again, slow and passionate, before dropping his hands to your waist.

"Bedroom?" Sam asks, fingers playing with the tie of your robe.

"Why go all that way?" you reply, your own fingers beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt. "I think this table should be sturdy enough."

His eyes light up. "Really?"

You stretch up to kiss him and whisper, "I want you to fuck me right here, baby."

Sam groans and shifts closer. You uncross your legs, allowing him to fit his hips between your thighs, and shove his jacket and shirt off his shoulders at the same time. He tosses them over the back of the chair without looking and then his hands are on you, long fingers gliding over the soft fabric of your robe and inching their way up your thighs as he captures your lips with his own. You can’t help a soft sound when his fingertips slip under the lace that edges your boy shorts.

“Yeah,” Sam whispers, hands jumping to the belt of your robe and using it to draw you closer to him with a playful tug. “Gonna treat you right, baby.”

“Always do.” You shrug the robe off when he pushes it off your shoulders, allowing the fabric to pool around you on the table.

He hums in agreement, nose bumping against yours.

“You’re never gonna get around to fucking me at this rate” you tease.

“Just savoring this,” Sam replies, fingers playing along the bottom edge of your bra. “Savoring you.”

Warmth swells in your chest and you push your hands into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. C’mon.” You hook your legs around his thighs, grinding your lower body against his. “I need you.”

Sam growls low in his chest and pushes you to lay back on the table even as his mouth begins traveling down the side of your neck. You go easy, arching your spine and tipping your head back in invitation. Sam growls again, a sound that goes straight to your clit and makes you throb. His teeth find your collarbone, nibbling a mark there, before he follows one thin bra strap down to where lace rests against the curve of your breast.

He lingers there a moment, kissing softly along the edge. His hands have settled on your waist and now they’re creeping under the lace there, fingertips brushing along the underside of your breasts.

“Can I?” he asks, lifting his head a little to meet your gaze.

You nod and he pushes the bra up. It bunches under your armpits and you lift your arms so he can take it all the way off but he stops there, shifting his attention to carefully tonguing one nipple. You whine, squirming underneath him, and feel him smile against your skin.

Sam’s hands drift downward now, staying on top of your boy shorts as one makes its way between your legs. He cups your mound through the fabric, positioning the heel of his hand so you have something to grind up against.

“Sam,” you moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you take full advantage of his hand placement. “Please.”

He smirks, turning his head to give your other breast the same amount of attention. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“Want - oh, fuck, yes - want your cock. Please.”

Sam groans and lifts up to kiss you. “Since you asked so nicely.”

---

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#sam x reader #spn fanfic #my writing

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achillestiel · 4 years ago

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All That Glitters | Chapter Eleven | Ao3 Link

For the entire elevator ride, Dean tried to push Jack's words out of his head. He didn't want to think about the past right now and dwell on its failures when he knew that Cas waiting for him. He pushed every single thought of failure out of his mind as he rode the elevator to the stop floor and walked down the hall. Why was he so nervous? Why the hell did it feel like his heart was going to leap out of his chest as he knocked on the door to Cas' room?

"Hello Dean " Cas said once he'd opened the door.

"Stealing my number off Charlie's phone, very ingenious." Dean said. "How did you get a phone? We normally take them off contestants, even the suitor."

"A clueless intern gave me one after I mentioned needing to contact my father. Your boss was right when she said half of them were slow on the uptake." Cas said as he motioned for Dean to come into his room. After shutting the door he pulled Dean in for a deep kiss but Dean jolted back. "I turned off all the cameras. No one can see us. It's just us here." Cas said, knowing what Dean was thinking. "Just stop overthinking Dean. I was thinking that after today we could have a date of our own."

"Really? Damn Cas, that's...cute?" Dean offered as he walked into Cas' suite. "Holy shit, look at this place. Damn, my room is the size of a box and I'm sharing it with Adam. I love the kid but he snores like an asthmatic buffalo." Dean said as he looked around the huge suite.

"Yes, I think the network is trying to butter me up." Cas said with a laugh as Dean looked around the huge space, decorated in sleek greys and white. "So, are you hungry?"

"Starving. All I've eaten today is a power bar and a damn salad. I swear the thing was 90% leaf."

"Salad, really? Not that I'm calling you fat, you're far from it, but you don't seem like the salad type." Cas said.

"I'm not but when you're stuck between Mr Health Freak Sam Winchester and 'Don’t Eat That Damn Doughnut Dean, I'm On A Diet' Josie, you have to suck it up. She's always like it around this time of year, what with Emmys coming up." Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Last year Josie had actually tackled him to the ground so he wouldn’t eat a burrito in front of her.

"No offence, but the idea of this show winning an Emmy is ridiculous."

"You'd be surprised. We've won a fair few awards over the past few years." Dean said with a laugh as Cas took his jacket and lay it across a nearby chair. "God, we won big the first year I was a producer. Sam had finished up with film school and I'd brought him on as part of the camera crew. We swept the board in our categories. Josie was so drunk out of mind that she dragged me to her hotel room and said 'Winchester, if you weren't my gay son I'd marry your twink ass.'" Dean recounted, his laughter filling the room. "Before I could even reply to that she passed out on the bed. I stayed in her room all night to make sure she didn’t throw up on herself or her dress. I had to carry her to the bathroom at four in the morning so she could throw up in the bathtub."

"While I try to erase that mental image from my brain, do you want to follow me out to the terrace?" Cas asked with a laugh.

"You have a terrace?" Dean asked. "Damn, all I have in my room is tiny bottles of shampoo and a smart mouth brother." Cas let out a warm chuckle as he took Dean's hand and lead him outside. The terrace was a gorgeous space filled with plants and sumptuous looking sofas. The Manhattan skyline served as a backdrop and Dean noticed, with a smile, that Cas had dotted candles in strategic places. Invisible speakers were playing music, a slow and moody jazz number. It screamed romance.

"Like it?" Cas asked.

"Mr Collins, you're trying to seduce me."

"Yes. Yes, I am" Cas said bluntly. "Is it working?"

#All That Glitters #deancas fic #destiel fic #fic #deancas #destiel #there's badly written smut at the end of this #i just can't write smut but i needed them to bone so badly

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rebel-in-white · 4 years ago

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The Perfect Ending for Dean and Sam? - Supernatural 15x20

As I read reviews about the Supernatural series, nothing disturbs me more than reading things like the title of this essay, “This was the Perfect Ending for Sam and Dean.” It’s disturbing because as fans of this 15-year show, we are accepting mediocrity. Far from being a perfect ending, this was one of the worst television show endings that I have ever seen because the characters weren’t allowed to change and grow.

When I watched the Supernatural series finale, I was struck by the realization that this could have easily been the finale of season 1. In season 1, we were dealing with Dean’s feelings of being second best, Sam wanting a “normal” life, Dean choosing the dangerous world of hunting, and the value of saving the innocent despite the dangers. In episode 15x20, the episode implies that we are still dealing with the same themes from episode 1, even though SO many events have passed, and Sam and Dean dealt with their own issues in varying ways. Dean’s death during a mundane hunt harks back to season 1’s warnings and omens about the dangerous life of a hunter. Meanwhile in season 15, the Winchesters are fighting God and survived that battle. Sam’s “happy” ending harks back to his desire to be with Jessica and find a happy, “apple pie” (normal) life. Meanwhile in season 15, Sam has lost everything… again. He lost his adopted son, his good friend, his mother for the second time, his surrogate father, his girlfriend (what happened to Eileen?), and his brother. Also, let’s not forget that Adam died and was a Winchester. Season 15 does not agree with, and contradicts, its final episode.

Everything that has happened after season 1 and right before the series finale doesn’t matter. That is the message the series finale communicated with fans. Some fans might be alright with this message because it’s such a long series, too much has happened, but there are many fans who have avidly watched these characters grow and change. They themselves have grown and changed with these characters! Watching the finale felt like a slap in the face, a surreal dream, because the writers and the show-runner shut the door on any type of meaningful change that has occurred throughout the series. Throughout the years, Sam and Dean were able to create meaningful connections outside of their partnership, noticeably with Jack and Cas. Both were only mentioned. That merits repeating again. Castiel, who had become a fan favorite in the series, only gets a few mentions. Dean, the one with whom he shares a profound bond, shrugs off his death and continues enjoying his pie. Like the last 12 years of developing that friendship, emphasizing their bond, and teasing fans with their deep connection meant nothing. Because ultimately, the show sent a clear message to its viewers: it doesn’t matter what these characters have gone through, it doesn’t matter the people who have come and enriched their lives, but what matters is where they started. The journey, and the accompanying life experiences, don’t matter.

I read a really hurtful review about the series finale that implied that Sam could only be happy on Earth because his brother had died. He was no longer his brother’s keeper, so now he could have everything he wanted- a family and normalcy. That was the Sam of season 1 - before his brother died for him, before he died for his brother, before his demon blood addiction, before he saved the world numerous times, before he adopted a half angel kid into his family, before meeting his Mom again. All of those experiences profoundly change a person. His idea of normal and happiness changed, became vastly different. The show hinted at this when we saw the names carved on the table in episode 15x19. Sam stopped running away from hunting, his duties, struggled with his destiny, and fought for his freedom and seemed content with what he had. The show even implied a budding romance with a fellow hunter, Eileen. Sam from season 1 would have turned away from all this because it interfered with his desire to be normal. However, this was shoved at Sam in the most confusing, contrived, and sickening manner. After Dean dies during the series finale, Sam mopes for a bit, then he goes on a hunt, and reverts back to Sam of season 1 with ease. He gets everything he’d wanted- an unnamed, unseen wife and a child who he names Dean. If Sam from episode 15x19, 15x18, from any episode after season 1, saw this ending for himself, he would have run away screaming. He wouldn’t be able to accept it. Why? Because that’s not what he wanted for himself anymore. He wanted to be with his loved ones, which included Dean plus his extended family.

If Sam’s ending was problematic, Dean’s is inconceivable. This is a character who has struggled with so many issues and low self-esteem and has gone through so many ups and downs that to see him die, impaled on a nail by clowns, devastated and confused many fans. I actually laughed out loud when he died because it was so ridiculous. It hurt to see a beloved character treated like trash, then proceed to accept his death with arms wide open. Where was Dean’s desire to live? This is the man who survived hell, saved the world several times, sacrificed himself for Sam, and had to fight daily to survive. And I don’t mean in a I’m-a-hunter-and-life-is-dangerous way, but in a real, this-world-is-fucked-up-and-I-can’t-do-it anymore way.

That was what always attracted me to Dean. His fight to survive in a world that didn’t make sense to him, and his ability to cling to life despite feeling too broken and inadequate. For many of the fans, they resonated with that and admired him for his grit and his humanity. In the series finale, Dean gives up. He accepts death, accepts this strange looking heaven, even though he was weirded out by heaven when he first encountered it. He rides around in his car- alone and waiting for Sam. That’s what Dean boils down to- alone and living for Sam. The show sends a message that Dean doesn’t deserve anything else. Despite everything he’s done throughout the 15 years of this series, Dean can’t escape his destiny to die on a mundane hunt. The same death that had been foreshadowed in season 1. With only his brother with him to see him go. Dean fought so hard to be free from Chuck’s stories and from his own demons that to see him reduced to drinking beer and riding around in the Impala felt like he’s regressed 15 years. And some fans think he deserved this? What has Dean done to you?

Dean had potential to show growth and to show true change and progress through a possible relationship with Castiel, but the show metaphorically gave its queer fans, their allies, and narrowed minded viewers a big middle finger. Yes, even people who hated the idea of Destiel, you should be angry. Instead of the show stretching your thinking and challenging you to accept something different and progressive, the show decided to pat you on the head and feed you some metaphorical shit. Please don’t eat it. Throughout the show, there had been signs that Dean and Castiel shared a profound bond that extended into a romantic subtext. It started with the angel’s entrance and charisma, and Dean’s acceptance of him into his life (very rare for Dean to form lasting relationships), and it ended with a confirmed love confession. Now, imagine that you’ve been hoping for years that all these hints, looks, and jokes would go somewhere. That maybe someone will validate your views and make you feel like you’ve brought progressive change to television. Well, that’s what it felt like to be a Destiel fan after episode 15x18. Destiel became half canon! Castiel declared his romantic feelings to Dean, which Misha Collins confirmed to be of a homosexual nature, but he knew that he couldn’t have what he wanted. He died to save a shell-shocked Dean Winchester. Not only did the show kill Castiel, but they sent him to hell (granted, he didn’t stay long), and they sent Dean Winchester, the man who stayed “straight,” to heaven.

This was problematic in many ways. One, the message is homophobic, heinous, but subtle. If you’re gay or queer, you are thrown away, never to be seen again because your feelings will upset the masses. It’s what happened to Castiel, a confirmed queer character. When episode 15x20 finished and Dean hadn’t even mentioned Castiel out of his own freewill, I was upset. Here comes the second problem. This show had used queer-baiting for the past 12 years or so to keep its numbers up and to keep itself on the air. It used queer-baiting to a most hurtful and insidious way to attract viewers to the series finale. Then, they shut it down after teasing something that several, enthusiastic fans had wanted for years. Why open this pandora box if you aren’t going to do anything with it? What is the point? Leading people to create false assumptions, playing with people’s emotions in a negative way, reinforcing negative heteronomative stereotypes- this is what the show has accomplished. This is its legacy.

I wrote this essay to free myself from this show. After this, I am not a Supernatural fan anymore. This show has left a bad taste in my mouth, and I want nothing to do with it or anyone associated with it. I urge you to free yourselves as well and also to not accept this mediocrity that Supernatural gave us. Stop other shows and networks from manipulating and leading on its fans. Stop them from ignoring years of growth in order to feed you the same story and keep you mediocre and small. I know the pandemic of 2020 made things difficult, but that’s no excuse to create the subpar work the Supernatural writers/show-runner/staff did. With just a little bit of creativity and intelligence, they could have produced something great, no matter the obstacles. I used to believe in that.

Supernatural, thank you for the years of enjoyment, but I never want to see you again.

#supernatural #supernatural series finale #supernatural series #dean winchester #sam winchester #cw spn #carry on #supernatural 15x20 #15x20 carry on #essay

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canyouimaginethatstory · 5 years ago

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Bye Bye Mr. Blue (Jack X Reader)

When you were a little girl your grandfather gave you a soft, blue teddy bear to help keep your nightmares away. You had named it Mr. Blue and you took him everywhere with you. He especially became your source of comfort when your grandfather was killed by a werewolf when you were ten. That's when you went to live with a family friend Bobby Singer. You grew up in the hunting life full time after that. Becoming very close with the Winchester Brothers. They even took you under their wings after Bobby died. Mr. Blue never left you. You kept him hidden in your closet or under your clothes in your bag if you left somewhere with the boys. Things were finally getting back to normalish after Jack had joined your hunter family and you all were going on a ghoul hunt a few towns over. The hunt had been long and stressful and you were almost killed.

When you got into the cheap hotel room you had gotten to yourself you changed into your sleep clothes and dug out Mr. Blue. The soft but worn fabric of the blue bear instantly put you at ease. You laid down and covered up hugging the old toy bear to you. "Goodnight Mr. Blue," you said before drifting off to sleep. You were woken up by knocking on your door. You jumped up and answered it. It was Sam.

"We gotta go there's another case on the way back to the bunker," he said. You nodded. The case had been a simple salt and burn and you were back at the bunker soon. You were unpacking and panicking. You couldn't find Mr. Blue. You swore you packed him.

"No no no," you said to yourself, "please tell me I didn't!" you were starting to freak out as you realized you must have left Mr. Blue in the hotel room. You started to breathe a little harder when Jack walked into your room. He noticed you were upset straight away.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing Jack," you said looking at him.

"But you're crying," he pointed out wiping a tear from your cheek. You were so upset you hadn't noticed you were crying. You sighed.

"If I tell you what's wrong do you promise not to tell Sam and Dean?" you asked. He nodded. You went on to tell him about Mr. Blue.

"And you're sure you didn't pack him?" he asked.

"I emptied out my whole bag," you said as you wiped your cheeks dry, "guess it's time to move from him. I am grown,". Over the next few weeks, your sleep pattern began to suffer. You weren't sleeping but a few hours a night if you slept at all and your nightmares got worse and more frequent. You were tired and the boys thought you were getting sick and made you stay home from hunting. You had bags under your eyes and you barely ate. Jack was starting to worry for you. He had realized by Mr. Blue being gone you lost a sense of safety the bear had given since you were a child. So Jack fluttered to the hotel you last had the bear at and walked in and up to the counter.

"Hi," he greeted the woman behind the desk, "my family and I were here a few weeks ago and my sister left a stuffed bear here. Has anyone found it?".

"You can check our lost and found," the woman said leading him into a back room behind the counter. There were boxes and shelves filled with things that had been forgotten by others in the past. The young nephilim was saddened when his search did not turn up your beloved teddy bear. But that's when he got an idea.

"Excuse me miss," he said, "is there a toy store nearby?".

"Yes two blocks over," she said. He thanked her and hurried there.

You were sulking in your room. Trying to fight the sadness off. It wasn't easy without the support of your bear. There was a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" Jack asked. You smiled.

"Sure Jack," you said as he walked in and sat down beside you.

"Can I ask something about Mr. Blue?" he asked.

"Ok, what?" you said feeling a ping of sadness at the toy's name.

"You loved him because he was a gift from someone you loved right?" he asked and you nodded, "and you love me right?" he asked.

"Of course I do Jack," you said, "you're very important to me,". He smiled.

"Than I want you to have this," he said handing you a little gift bag. You opened it and pulled out a little white bear. It had a flannel pattern on his paws and ears and a blue bow around its neck.

"Jack that's so sweet," you said kissing his cheek, "I love it,".

"Are you gonna name him?" Jack asked.

"Hmm," you said looking at the new bear, "His name is Winchester,". Jack smiled.

"I like it," he said. That night you slept soundly cuddled up with your new bear as you thought of the boy who gave it to you.

MASTER LIST: Here

PROMPT EVENT: Here

REQUEST INFO: Here

#Jack Kline #jack supernatural #jack kline x y/n #jack kline x reader #jack kline x you #imagine #imagines #supernatural imagine #imagine spn #imagines spn #spn imagines #spn imagine #alex calvert

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totheendofthelinepal · 5 years ago

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TRY ME (PART EIGHT)

Summary: You couldn’t stand Bucky Barnes, but as a part of the Avengers - You had no choice but to tolerate him. Until one day, mission gone ary - you realize that something else sparks between the two of you, in the most unexpected way.

Warnings: NSFW (18+), Swearing, Violence

Pairing: Reader (Y/N) x Bucky Barnes

You heard the low beep of the monitor, waking you softly from your slumber. As your eyes flickered into the light, you saw fluorescent lighting above you. You began to hear the low hum of voices, shifting your gaze, you looked to your hands. They were still bruised and cut up, but now a metal hand encased around them. You smiled, causing you to cough lightly. The familiar beautiful blue eyes looked to you, and you felt your heart swell in your chest.

“Look who’s awake” Bucky’s voice came in clear, he smiled brightly to you.

“Hi.” You softly rasped out.

“Hey champ.” You heard Steve’s voice.

A soft laugh filled the room, Nat leaning forward gripping your feet.

“Its about time.” She tightly squeezed, a smile forming on her lips.

You looked around the room, to see your team smiling to you. You felt like your heart could burst with happiness in this moment. Your eyes drifted to Bucky’s again, his lips pressing to your hand now.

“It’s a good think you didn’t die.” Sam sighed, laughing lightly.

“I had to stay alive, so I could keep kicking Bucky’s ass in the training room.” You rasped out.

The room erupted in laughter, and Bucky’s face lightened at the comment.

The joyful moment was quietly interrupted by the Doctor, as he walked in with a rather large file. He coughed softly, the team backed away to make room for him. Your grip tightened on Bucky, assuring him that you were here, your heart was still beating. He smiled to you, then turned to the Doctor.

“Well, Miss Y/L/N. Looks like everything is recovering nicely. Just….no, extensive physical actions. Can you do that?” The Doctor peered over the file.

“What do you mean? walking, running?” You rasped out.

“Well let’s stick to walking, and I have been informed you’re a rather noticed asset to your country, lets not do any crazy fighting, mission involved things. Try and stay away from lifting, walking will be good for you obviously. Oh, and no sexual intercourse, it could rip the stitches.” He stammered over the last words.

Sam suppressed a laugh, Steve’s eyebrow raised at the comment, and Nat smirked putting her hand over her mouth.

“Yeah good luck. These two go at it like they’re in high school.” Clint coughed out.

Wanda slapped him, silencing him quickly.

“He aint wrong.” Sam quietly mumbled.

Bucky glared to them at their childish reactions, gripping your hand tightly he smiled to the doctor.

“Understood, anything to get her better.” Bucky sighed, rubbing soft circles on your hand.

It had been 3 weeks since then, You were only 3 days away from getting discharged. It was like clockwork. Each person on your team would visit, Sam brought you food, which you highly appreciated over hospital food. Wanda would come by and do your makeup every so often. Nat would come by and fill you in on recent missions, what was going on. Steve informed you that the Hydra operatives were still out there, but they retrieved most of them when they rescued you. He also explained that the man that threatened Bucky’s life, and nearly ended yours was still out there. It brought a chill to your spine, knowing that he could be making a move at any time. But you choose to ignore that feeling as best you could. You would take walks, each day getting better and better. You could finally feel the strength returning to you. The Doctor kept you up to date on your progress, explaining that while you’re not ready to take out 10 men as easily as you could’ve a couple of months ago, you were getting there. You sighed, flipping through the magazine in front of you. The worst part of this all was that you were laying still, and it drove you crazy. You watched TV most days, sometimes Bucky would join you. In the past few weeks, you felt his kiss rarely. You missed it more than anything. You lifted your shirt, to see your wounds almost nearly healed, you were sore, but nothing too serious. You heard a soft knock to your hospital room, looking up you pulled your shirt back down.

“Come in.” You simply said, sighing.

The door opened, and you instantly smiled as Bucky walked in. He was wearing your favorite outfit, and your mind flickered back to the last time you saw him in it. It was in the bar, when you were playing pool with Steve. He looked so damn good. A leather jacked filled his large frame, a black fitted t shirt underneath. His jeans formed perfectly to his legs, and you took a sharp breath.

“Hey, Doll.” He softly said.

He quietly shut the door behind him, and he began to lower the shades. You looked on confused, and you heard the click of the lock on the doorknob. He sighed heavily, and turned back to you.

“You should know, right now. This is never happening again. Well, part of it is never happening again.” Bucky took a deep breath.

“Babe, what are you talking about?” You giggled softly.

“Sam….suggested this song. God, I can’t believe Im doing this.” He shook his head, chuckling softly.

He fumbled for his phone, clicking quickly to a song. You had heard the familiar beat, but you couldn’t figure out where. Bucky sighed, a smile forming on his lips. He slowly grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling it slowly off his large frame.

“Bucky..” You warned, trying not to smile, “What are you doing?”

“I talked to the Doctor today.” He took a deep breath, “He gave me the green light.”

He smirked, lifting his shirt over his head. You blinked, almost forgetting what his naked torso looked like. He smiled at your gaping mouth, you began to lean forward.

“No. Dont move.” He laughed, “Dont wanna hurt those scars now do we?”

You swallowed hard, as his hands reached his belt. He was moving agonizingly slow, you carefully watched his fingers undo his belt. You bit your lip, God you missed his body. Dropping his belt to the floor, he unbuttoned his pants quickly. He smirked again as you shifted your body almost every two seconds.

“Enjoying the show, Doll?” He winked, pulling his pants down.

“You have no idea.” You sighed softly.

He was now only in his briefs, and you could see the outline of what you craved so badly. He moved to you finally, pressing his lips to yours. You tugged hungrily at his neck, pressing him hard to your mouth. You smiled to his lips, soft groans leaving your lips. You tried pulling him closer, but his body stiffened to you.

“Please tell me this wasn’t just a strip tease” You breathed out, pulling completely from him.

“No, we just..have to do it a certain way.” He chuckled.

He swung your legs gently from the bed, pulling you by the back of your knees to him. He wrapped you around him, walking over to the small couch that resided in your hospital room. He sat down slowly, smiling to you. His hands trailed on your back, making you realize you were only wearing a hospital gown. His fingers reached the strings, untying it slowly.

“Your briefs” You groaned out.

He lifted his body, removing them quickly. He pulled the gown down your arms, exposing your skin. He kissed softly to your chest, his lips traveling to your chest. He bit softly to the sensitive area, causing you to take a sharp inhale. He went to the other side, following his action. When he broke away from you, his hands traveled softly to your scars. He smiled sympathetically, tracing them softly. You brought his chin to you, pressing a kiss softly to him. His hands encased your back, and then moved down to your hips. He lifted you gently, guiding down on his hardness. Throwing his head back, he groaned at the feeling. You began to roll your hips, soft whimpers leaving your throat.

“God, Doll. So wet” He hissed out, gripping your hips.

You gripped his shoulders, giving you more leverage. You loved this feeling, his thighs contracted on your backside, his abdomen grazing your sensitive spot below your waist. You cried out, its been too long. Bucky gripped your backside, moving you quicker against him. His mouth flew to your chest again, biting softly to your sensitive areas. You gripped his hair, unable to compose yourself from the pleasure. He hummed against you, his hot breath fanning across your skin. You rolled your hips as best you could, but it was hard when your legs felt like jello.

‘Bucky…I can’t” You sighed, pleasure taking over your limbs.

“I got you, Doll.” He groaned, his hands moving your hips for you.

Your head fell to his shoulder, You began to tighten as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. You could feel the wetness cascade down your thighs, causing you to moan out one last time. As you finished, it wasn’t long until Bucky was behind you. He stilled completely, a loud sigh leaving his lips, as he spilled into you. You recollected yourself, laughing lightly.

“What was the name of that song?” You knitted your brow.

“I dont know, but its my new favorite.” He grinned to you boyishly.

You softly kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You walked through the Tower doors, Bucky leading you with his hand through the hallway. You began to shuffle towards your door, opening it lightly you saw nothing but boxes filling the floor. Looking on in confusion, you turned to Bucky, Natasha standing behind him, they both smiled. You shook your head, laughing lightly.

“Oh is this how it is, Im gone for two seconds and my room is turned into storage?” You quipped.

Nat laughed, taking her leave. Bucky walked to you, intertwining his fingers with yours. You followed his footsteps as you walked towards his room.

“Really, now? We just got home, let me at least shower first.” You chuckled.

“Would you just shut up, doll?” Bucky opened his door.

You walked in and noticed right away, that your stuff was spread out across his room neatly. You turned to him, a soft smile on his features.

“This your way of asking me to move in with you?” You raised a brow.

“Well we can’t really move in together like normal couples do. So I figured you staying in my room from now would suffice.” He winked.

“Oh please, Barnes. You just want some sweet ass.” You playfully pointed to your backside.

He let out a hearty laugh, slipping his hands behind you. He squeezed softly to your back end, giving it a teasing smack.

“Maybe I do.” He bit his lip.

You shook your head, heat rising to your cheeks. You leaned in, biting softly to his bottom lip. The both of you smiled into the kiss, his hands hadn’t left your ass, gripping tightly.

“Hey guys could-“ Steve walked in, sighing. “Are we really going to do this again?”

“For you information, Steve. Im fully dressed this time. This is our room. Safe sex zone. Our Fondue room.” Bucky chuckled.

“Oh nice. Nice remark, pal.” Steve rolled his eyes, “We got some news on the Hydra case.”

As soon as Steve left the room, Bucky returned his hands to your backside.

“Come on, lover boy. Lets go.” You pushed his arm to the door.

“Oh come on, Doll. Give me 15 minutes” Bucky tugged at your belt loops.

You laughed, now pushing him to the door forcefully.

As the team assembled, you settled in around you. It felt good to be back in here, to listen to a briefing. You looked to the large monitor, as Steve began to explain the importance of this mission. You looked to Bucky, his jaw clenched when the picture of the man that nearly killed you came on the screen.

“Alright so we finally found their location, and it looks like we’re going to be making a trip to Paris.” Steve tapped across the screen.

You smirked in Bucky’s direction, hoping he would catch on. When his gaze met yours, he realized why you had the expression on your face. Paris was when it all started. You laughed quietly, remembering the memory.

“Whats so funny?” Sam smiled to the both of you.

“Its just uh- Paris. Thats when we first….You know.” Bucky smiled.

“In Paris?” Steve’s mouth hung open.

“You’re kidding” Nat’s expression lit up.

“It was on that rescue mission of you idiots.” You giggled, leaning back in your chair.

“God I got you so pissed off that day.” Bucky nudged you.

“Oh I hated you.” You smirked.

“God how many men were there?” Bucky looked to you, trying to remember.

“About 15.” You shook your head.

Steve’s mouth still gaped open, clearly dumbfounded that it happened in Paris.

“Wait, but how did it happen?” Sam leaned forward, as did the rest of the team.

“Well…We were sent to the bottom level, thats where they told us you were being kept at the time. We took out the operatives, and Ms talk to much over here wouldn’t shut up. She was driving me nuts.” Bucky laughed, flickering his eyes to you, “Then I grabbed her, and kissed her just to shut her mouth.”

Nat laughed, crossing her arms.

“Oh my god, you mean to tell me, that you two had angry sex in front of knocked out dead men, thats disgusting.” Sam’s face contorted.

You and Bucky laughed at his action, as well as the rest of the team.

“No…we didn’t have sex there.” Bucky shook his head.

“We..had sex in the hallway.” You mumbled.

“In the hallway?” Sam’s eyes went wide.

“You act as if that’s a weird spot Sam.” Nat laughed lightly, “A weird spot would be on a Jet….on the way back from a mission.”

“Nat!” You exclaimed.

Sam’s face formed an “O” shape, and he laughed loudly.

“Damn, you’re in the mile high club, Barnes.” Clint chuckled softly

“Can we please stop talking about how many places these two have done it?” Steve finally chimed in.

“What, don’t like to discuss fondue, Steve?” Nat smirked.

“Oh really, with that again? Alright, you wanna hear the worst spot Ive caught these two, What you’re leaning on right now, that table.” Steve sighed, motioning to the table.

The room erupted in Oh, and Shit.

Bucky clutched his chest from laughing. He looked to you, you covered your face in embarrassment.

“Okay. Thats enough. Back to this briefing. Like damn children.” Steve huffed.

Steve went back to explaining in depth what each person’s role would be, and of course you knew you wouldn’t be included in this round. You sighed, knowing it was probably best. You were still somewhat fragile, but you missed fighting along side Bucky. Your eyes caught his, and he smiled softly, then he looked to Steve.

“Y/N should come.” Bucky mumbled out.

Steve looked slowly to you.

“Bucky, its fine. I’ll just stay back on this one.” You squeezed his hand.

“Last time, I second guessed you. I didn’t believe in you as an Agent. I do now. You’re strong, you can handle it. Just don’t go crazy.” Bucky smiled softly to you.

“You could be Bucky’s eyes and ears where we can’t be, just escort him.” Steve offered.

You looked around the room, the team all agreeing it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

You finally agreed, slightly terrified of going back in the field again.

Especially when the man that ripped you to shreds was waiting for you.

Living with Bucky Barnes had many perks. Although you couldn’t say you were like any other normal couple, you had tower full of other people. But whenever you two were in your room, it was almost like your fellow teammates weren’t there. Bucky turned out to be one of the most doting people you’ve ever met. He brought you breakfast in bed, he massaged your sore muscles, damn he even folded some of your laundry. Of course there was other perks as well. The dim room was lit by the clock saying 5:15 am. You were on your side, breathing softly as your body was still half asleep. You felt a light presence at the back of your thigh, but you laid still. Warm lips now encased your thigh, now knowing exactly what was there. Bucky lifted your leg gently, now placing his warm lips to the inside of your thigh. You hummed, determined to stay asleep. He pulled you gently so you were now on your back, your eyes still closed. You felt his soft strands of hair against your legs, his mouth inching closer to your core. You shifted slowly, resting under his touch. It didn’t take long until his lips pressed finally to your core, a soft bite to your sensitive spot. Your eyes shot open at the action, causing you to feel Bucky’s mouth curve against you.

“Shit Bucky..” You rasped out as he repeated action.

Your hips jutted up uncontrollably to his mouth, causing him to wrap his hands around your hips. Sighs of pleasure left your throat, as his tongue worked slowly against you. Shutting your eyes again in bliss, he hummed softly against you. He removed his metal hand, snaking it below you. Without warning, his cold fingers touched the sensitive spot, causing you to cry out. Your back arched at the jolting pleasure coursing through you. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach as his fingers pushed in and out quickly. His tongue never ceasing its actions you cried out once more, your body finally relaxing, falling to the sheets of the bed. Bucky soon emerged from from the comforter, a wide grin on his face.

“Good morning, Doll.” His voice was raspy and deep, he sounded hot as hell.

“Yeah, Hi.” You caught your breath.

Chuckling lightly, he pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

This reminded you of another great perk of living with Bucky Barnes.

“We should probably grab something to eat before we head out with the team.” You sighed, wrapping your fingers gently in his hair.

“I already ate” Bucky teased, chuckling lightly.

You hit him playfully, pushing him to the side.

The team landed only hours later. Even though you were set to be the eyes and ears of Bucky, you were excited to be in the field again. Steve warned you of taking it easy, and you knew he was right. You couldn’t have your wounds open up a third time. The location Steve read was dark, the facility almost looked abandoned. Each part of the time spilt up like always, knowing that it would have more impact. The building was cold, and wet. As the both you and Bucky walked across the floor, a smile pursed your lips.

“I have a great view.” You sighed, your eyes trailing his backside.

“Is that so, Doll?” He turned to you and grinned.

“Can’t wait to see that ass in action.” You pinched him playfully, causing him to shake his head.

“You know you’re supposed to be helping me out here. Use your eyes elsewhere than my ass.” He laughed lightly, walking forwards.

“I think Steve might’ve been wrong about this place. Its quiet.” You sighed, looking around.

“Im not picking up on anything on my monitor. No signs of body heat anywhere.” Bucky looked down to his wrist, the technology beeping lowly.

“Could’ve been a fluke.” You shifted.

The both of you stopped in the middle of the floor. You could hear the drip of the water across the walls. Something didn’t feel right, and you knew it. You could feel it in your gut.

“Nat, something’s wrong. Where’s Cap? We need to leave. I’ve got bad feeling.” You pressed your com.

Silence.

“Nat, do you copy?” You sighed out.

Looking to Bucky, the same expression on his face. He knew something was wrong. He quietly motioned for you to follow, as the two of you skillfully walked across the the wet cement floor. Staying close behind Bucky, he placed your hand on the back of his combat belt. Making sure you weren’t leaving his sight. The dripping of water and your soft steps echoed throughout the building. You still heard nothing from your team. Large static caught the both of you by surprise, Bucky assembling his gun to his jaw, you turned to wall that illuminated the Hydra logo. You looked to Bucky, your stomach churning.

“Lets Go.” He mouthed to you, as you nodded.

You both walked as quickly and quietly as you possibly could to the exit. your hand still to Bucky’s belt. Your breathing picked up, you had never been more terrified. Flashes of memories came to you, as you felt the pain in your stomach. You looked up, and a blood curdling scream let out, it was Steve. You made out the words “Get out of Here, Now”. The whipping sound of bullets filled your eardrums, and the hard clanking of metal. Bucky dragged your body behind him, blocking every blow the gunshots threw to you. Your hands gripped tightly to Bucky’s waist as you felt the force of his weapons shoot ripple throughout your body. Your eyes opened to see Bucky duck to your level. He cocked his gun roughly, only to rise again, blowing out gunshots in the air. You felt safe to his embrace, until a hand yanked the roots of your hair. You thrashed against who held you arms, You looked quickly for Bucky, only to see him in a chokehold of the man that tried to killed you. You screamed out with everything you had in you, hoping Steve or someone would come to Bucky’s rescue. But it was no use, The man holding you tightly yanked your head back, covering your eyes and mouth with bandages. You heard nothing but Bucky’s struggle for breath.

You jolted awake, now for the second time. You felt a familiar pain, but this time it wasn’t your abdomen. It was your throat. The cover over your eyes fell, and your breathing was erratic. You vision was hazy, as you frantically looked around you. You didn’t care where you were, or if they planned to Kill you. You needed to find Bucky. When your vision crystalized you saw that you were in a glass containment. Your hands tied tightly around you back, you noticed you were covered in grime and dirt again. Hot tears flooded your eyes, as you began to panic. You thrashed hard, slamming your hands trying to get free. A loud muffled noise rang in your ears, you blinked upwards to see another glass containment in front of you. Your chest tightened when you saw it was Bucky. His mouth was covered, just like yours, and his piercing blue eyes were bright red.

“Bucky” You mumbled through the cloth, almost double checking if it was him.

“Y/N.” His voice was clearer this time. He jolted upwards, his metal arm effortlessly ripping the tied material around his wrists. He ran to the wall of his prison, slamming harshly against the glass. He ripped off the cloth around his mouth. His breathing was also ragged.

You stood up, walking to your wall. The two of you were clearly separated, and if Bucky couldn’t break through it, then it must be tough. You struggled to break free, and you knew what you needed to do. To break your wrist. You shook your head, tears spilling out.

“Its okay.” Bucky’s voice was muffled by the glass.

You nodded, positioning your hand where it needed to be. With full force you yanked harshly, a loud cry filling the bandage around your mouth. Bucky leaned against the prison, you could tell it killed him inside when you were in pain. Once your hands were free, you used the leftover bandage from your mouth to wrap your wrist. You stood there for a moment, looking across Bucky’s features. He was covered in dirt as well.

“I see the love birds are awake.” A radio like sound filled the glass containment.

You turned to your left, to see the man that nearly ended your life walking slowly to you. Your heart began to thud roughly in your chest.

“Looks like you did not learn you lesson Agent. Now you’re going to pay.” He sneered.

Bucky flew forward in his direction, You could hear the metal slam harshly against the glass. You saw Bucky’s jaw clench, and his whole body stiffened.

“Do not worry, Mr. Barnes. We’re not going to kill her.” He smiled manically, “She did not hold up on her end of the deal. So now, we take what we warned.”

Your eyes grew wide, as the man made his way to Bucky’s containment. You screamed out, pounding the walls.

“Dont touch him. Take me. Kill Me.” The words erupted from your throat.

“You should’ve listened, Agent.” The man motioned behind him. “Bring in the Winter Soldier’s equipment.”

“No.” You merely whispered, tears falling violently now.

You saw as various men rolled in a machine. A machine you heard about from Steve. Bucky looked to you, and as much as he tried to hold it back, you could tell he was terrified.

Even though you knew it wouldn’t do anything, you slammed against the glass. Pounding violently, trying to break free. They opened Bucky’s door, grabbing him by the head. Panic overtook you, and you had never screamed out so loudly in your life. Yanking him to the chair, his eyes drifted to you.

“Make sure she can see.” The man laughed at your pain.

You could heard the machine booting up, clanking against Bucky’s wrist. His eyes blinked, and you could see the tears falling out. His blue eyes met yours, and your knuckles grew white as you gripped the wall. You pounded harshly again.

“I love you.”

Bucky’s mouth formed the words, so only you could see. No one else could hear. You cried out again, as they shoved a piece in his mouth. Pushing him back, the Machine encased around his face.

“You son of a bitch, Im going to kill you.” You hissed loudly, pounding on the wall.

The man just smiled at you, causing the heat to rise in your body. Screwing your eyes shut, you heard Bucky’s scream echoed throughout the walls.

You plugged your ears, unable to take it. Then it was suddenly quiet. Bucky rose from the chair, a blank expression on his face. The man walked over to your containment, opening the doors. You didn’t wait for him to make any more sly remarks. You lunged forward, taking him down in one fell swoop. Your first clenched tightly, each punch hitting his face violently. You screamed out to him, not ceasing, until the men pulled you roughly from him. Wiping his jaw, he looked back to Bucky. It terrified you that his expression was blank. The man laughed, walking slowly to him.

“So shall we activate the Winter Soldier?” He looked back to you, and if you could you would strangle this man.

Bucky’s eyes then flickered to you, his expression cold. You looked to his hands, and saw something you didn’t expect. He tapped lightly three times, and no one else knew that was a signal. You looked to his eyes to make sure, and you knew. That was definitely Bucky.

“You already did, Asshole.” Bucky lunged forward, his metal arm swinging across the man’s face.

You whipped your legs forward, throwing the men from your limbs. Bucky stepped quickly to you, gripping your arm. Using his leverage, you thrashed you legs upwards taking out two men with your harsh kick. Once enough men were taken out, Bucky wrapped his arm around you, ushering you quickly out of the room. You heard the man calling out for a kill order on the both of you. You ran quickly down the facility halls, Bucky beside you. Pulling you to the nearest room quickly, he shut the door.

“Got a plan?” You breathed out, looking around you.

“I have no idea where we are, let alone an exit plan, Doll.” He huffed out.

You began to hear the loud footsteps of men rushing down the hall. You looked to Bucky, seeing he still had a gun to his holster.

“Look for some kind of exit, anything. We need to get out of here.” You smiled breathlessly.

You reached to his thigh, releasing the gun from its holster. Bucky nodded, a smirk forming his lips.

You cocked the gun, positioning yourself to the open the door.

“Hey, Doll?” Bucky looked to you.

You turned to him, a devious smile on his lips, “Give em’ Hell.”

You laughed, yanking the door open. Each shot fired out with precision, you clearly hadn’t lost your touch. You were determined to take them out, until you felt Bucky grip your collar. You took the sign, walking backwards getting in every last shot.

“There’s a air vent up here. Leads to what looks like the closest room to outside.” Bucky breathed.

You returned his gun to his holster, sighing heavily. Jumping with ease, Bucky flew to the vent. As soon as he got in, his arm extended to you. It still amazed you just how strong this man was. Using his metal arm, he pulled you up like it was nothing. You both crawled quickly through the vent, making your way quickly to the room. Dropping softly to his hands, his hands stayed at your hips for a moment.

“Are you okay?” He quietly ran his fingers over your scars.

“Fine, Babe.” You breathed out, “Now lets get the hell out of here.”

Bucky slammed his metal arm to the window before the both of you, causing it to shatter. Lifting you through, you fell out to the grass below you. Following shortly, Bucky fell to the ground. You looked around, trying to get a sense of direction.

“Looks like we’re outside the city.” Bucky sighed, “We’re going to have get some new clothes.”

You huffed out, as the both of you began to make your way back to Paris. Bucky kept his gun close, and you closer as the path before you was growing more and more difficult.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #sebstan #buckybarnes #bucky barnes fandom

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mattzerella-sticks · 6 years ago

Text

Where Do We Go From Here? (Dean/Cas Coda for 14x14 “Ouroboros”, Jack POV)

Link to Ao3

Now that Michael's defeated, what do the Winchesters have to do? Are there any more monsters on the horizon... or can they finally appreciate the time they have together?

Jack watched Rowena from his place next to her cot in the infirmary. Hers was the only bed whose sheet wasn’t pulled up and over a body. Michael’s defeat was double-edged. While he was gone and Jack’s powers were restored, unfortunately the damage he caused was done and there had been no way of going back. Sam stepped into the room, his voice carrying over from where he talked on the phone.

“…Yeah, yeah we’ll wait until you get here,” he said, “I alerted everyone else, they should be making their way here. It’ll be a… it’s going to be a large one. Okay, I love you too, mom. Bye.” He hung up by the time he reached Jack. “Hey, is everything…”

“She’s stable,” Jack told him, “Michael… took a lot out of her. But she’s still here.”

Sam nodded, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I figured but…”

Jack offered a grim smile, lips pulled tight. “I understand.”

Looking out amongst the corpses, Sam sighed. His head hung low, hair masking his face from Jack. “This… today’s been rough, Jack.”

Jack agreed. He laid his hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it twice in a show of comfort. “It has. I wish there were… many things done differently. But, in the end… We have to be glad that Michael is gone. I believe that all our friends, they would be proud that Michael’s plans have been thwarted here and now.”

Sam turned to him, smiling. “Yeah, yeah that’s… I’d like to believe that, too.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to say anything. But Sam’s phone chimed again. Pulling it out, he sighed. “I have to take this,” he said, “Listen, people probably won’t be coming by until noon the latest. I don’t know if you still need to sleep or –“

“Not really but…” Jack glanced around the room, “I don’t think I should stay here either. I think I might walk around, maybe turn on Netflix. Now that I have my powers back bingeing shows seems easier.”

He smiled at Jack. “The world’s your oyster.”

Jack held his shoulder a beat longer before dropping it and leaving. Exiting the infirmary, he let his mind wander as his legs guided him whichever way they wanted. He touched upon a variety of thoughts; ranging from what shows he wanted to watch, to wondering whether his friends were resting up in Heaven even after what Michael did. Voices broke through his distracted haze, bringing him back into the present. Slowing down, he realized that he had reached the hallway where Dean’s room was and that the voices belonged to Dean and Cas.

His door was open slightly, an inviting sliver of darkness where the voices sung out to him. Following them, Jack ran his fingers across the wall. Reaching the door, he listened.

Dean was speaking; his voice rough and weary from the day’s madness. “…feels like I can think clearly now. That everything I was putting towards keeping Michael locked up is just…” He stopped, and then resumed. “You sure he’s –“

“I checked three times,” Castiel told him, “usually angels leave small amounts of their grace but Michael… I think he took everything with him.”

“Good, good…”

There’s some slight rustling on the other side, and Jack wished he could peer in without revealing himself. Instead he resigned himself to eavesdropping.

“Dean,” Castiel said, “You…you amaze me.”

“How come?”

“Well, usually after an archangel leaves its vessel, they are… there’s little hope of them coming back. You remember Raphael’s first…”

“Sure do. Not a pretty sight.”

“I’m proud of you, of the strength you carry inside.”

“It’s nothing, really, just some ol’ Winchester stubbornness.”

Jack shook his head, laughing silently at Dean’s deflection of Castiel’s compliment. He imagined the older hunter blushing, scratching at his neck or ducking his head away from Castiel. That led him to picture how the scene must look inside Dean’s room. Even though he could hear them, Jack knew their voices weren’t that loud. They had to be close to one another. And with the cover of darkness, Jack believed however they held their conversation must be breaking a few of the personal space rules Dean set up.

“Still,” Castiel said, “I’m so, very… happy to have you back. Before, after the Gorgon… I thought… I thought I had almost lost –“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Dean shushed him, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He chuckled, then. “Especially not into some box at the bottom of the ocean.”

Castiel wasn’t amused, his tone of voice the kind of chastising Jack remembers whenever he was caught getting into trouble by his angel father. “Dean,” he sighed, “You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“C’mon Cas, it’s not like there’s any chance of me going in it now, is there?”

“Still, I… the possibility that you almost did it… unnerved me.”

Jack heard the sheets shift, as if Dean pulled back the covers on his bed before refitting them. “I know you were never going to put me in the box.”

Castiel gasped, but he didn’t say anything.

“And I was pissed, before. Because I couldn’t wrap my head around why you wouldn’t do this. Sam, this is the kind of shit I’ve come to suspect. But he would have put me in there if he knew there was nothing left. Kid doesn’t go back on his word. You never promised me. Every time I brought it up you never said anything, always tried changing the subject. All the other times, you might have fought but I could see this kind of… resigned acceptance behind your eyes. There was something else there… that I… I still don’t understand.”

Jack leaned closer, nearly falling into the open crack. He hadn’t known of Dean’s plan, and could care less now that Michael is gone. Except what he said about Castiel piqued his own interest.

“Dean, I…” Castiel started, voice low and mournful, “You were right. Even if it had meant the end of the world I… I would never have followed through with your idiotic plan.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea – it was Billie’s.”

“Then Billie’s idiotic plan that you were stupid enough to consider.”

“Where’s all this hostility coming from?”

“From the part of me that didn’t want to lose you again,” Castiel practically shouted. His voice hadn’t risen above a whisper, but the sheer power contained within each note and growl made even Jack leap back in fright. “Who couldn’t bear to see Michael win and have you. That understands you and I have such a short time before you… before we can no longer do something as simple as this.” Jack only has a short amount of time to consider what Castiel referred to before he continued with his speech. “I would have risked the world a thousand times because I’m selfish. Because I don’t delude myself into thinking the angels will allow me to join you up in Heaven. So I have to make every second count until you can’t outrun Death anymore. Then, for however long I serve humanity, I can look back knowing I lived. I cared for my family, and protected them. We made our peace and left with no re-“

Jack wanted to cry. Castiel was cut off, and he was unsure why. As if sensing his burning curiosity, his grace flared inside. Jack’s eyes burned amber as he pushed his senses even further. Looking behind the wall, Jack took the scene before him in.

Dean and Castiel were lying in bed, their backs against the headboards and covers pooled at their laps. The reason for Castiel’s silence was simple. Dean had one hand on his cheek, as if to steady himself while kissing Castiel. He had his eyes closed, and in the few seconds of their embrace Castiel fluttered his eyes shut. Then, they shot back open and he pulled back.

“Dean…” he muttered, mouth agape, “You… why did you…”

“I was going off your lead, Cas,” Dean told him, “No regrets? I totally agree. All my life, I’ve sacrificed and let go for others. It’s rare for me to be selfish. I think I deserve to be that way, right? Especially after the hell I’ve gone through. Out of everything I could have, there’s really only one thing I want. And I’ve already got you in my bed, angel…”

He dipped in again; unfortunately Castiel placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. Dean blinked, skewing his head to the side in imitation of the very angel he sat next to.

“It’s… it’s not that I don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel admitted, “But after what we all went through tonight I… I’m not really in the mood for anything of that nature.”

Dean pulled back, frowning. He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah…” he said, “I get it.” He glanced at him through the corner of his eye. “But this… you’re totally cool doing other things?”

“What do you mean by other things?”

He smirked, grabbing the hand still on his chest. “Hand holding,” he said, “Sharing a bed… kissing.”

Castiel offered him a small smile. From outside, he looked bashfully gleeful. But with Jack’s powers he could identify a deep melancholy radiating from within Castiel’s spirit. “These are all things I have wished but never thought I could have.”

“Well you can,” Dean assured him, “If you’re going to be here long after I’m gone I want you to have as many memories of this to keep close to your heart. Because I know in my Heaven there won’t be a moment where I’m separated from you.”

He smiled at Dean, this time stealing a kiss. “That’s beautiful, Dean.”

“I sure hope so, I’m not sappy for just anybody…”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep Dean.”

Dean shyly ducked his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

There was something on his mind, obvious even to Jack. Castiel raised a brow. “What is it?”

“I… Are you going to be here when I wake up?”

Castiel let the question hang in the air, and even Jack was unsure how he would answer. But then he lifted their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s. “I may come and go, but I assure you that when you open your eyes I’ll still be here.”

Dean beamed. “Okay.” Then he let go, shuffling down the bed until his head hit the pillow. Jack stopped watching then, curiosity sated. He stayed there, however, heart too warm to consider stepping away.

Jack did move, when he senses a light pair of feet hitting the floor. He tried to run, but Castiel stuck his head out before he rounded the corner. “Jack,” he called out, tone sharp.

Knowing he was caught, Jack shuffled back.

Castiel stood before, less composed but still looking stern. Jack noticed the change in clothing, something he didn’t realize when gazing in before. He was dressed in a white undershirt and sweatpants that hung at his hips, clearly not belonging to him.

“You heard everything?” Cas asked. He didn’t need an answer, and didn’t wait for one. “Now that your powers are back, I felt your presence for a majority of our conversation.”

“You didn’t talk before I got there?”

“We did, a little,” Castiel told him, “We’d only been there for a few minutes. A lot of time was spent convincing Dean to sleep… and he wouldn’t go unless I joined him…”

Jack smiled. “You and he, you’re…”

Castiel turned away, frowning. “We are… we’re working things out.”

He squinted at his father. “You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset.”

“Why?”

“Would you rather I be happy?” Castiel asked instead, “That I allow myself to enjoy this moment for what it was, as if there weren’t another monster waiting to snatch it all away the moment I do?”

Jack startled, eyes widening. He almost forgot the Empty, and the deal he foisted upon Castiel. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, but he swiped them away before they could fall.

“Castiel… before, is that what you were talking about?”

Sighing, he let his shoulders sag as if dragged down by mountains. Castiel let the burdens he took show. “We’re immortals Jack. All we get to have is memories. The Empty robbed me of even that, as each moment I share with Dean will be tinged with its black tendrils. Keeping me from fully giving myself in to happiness. Always wondering if I’ll be around to see the sun shine, to greet Dean good morning. Because in the Empty, there are no moments, no memories, no family and no… no Dean; I might not be able to keep Dean forever, but I’ll be damned if he has to watch me die one more time.”

Jack reached out with his grace to Castiel, nearly doubling over with the ferocious waves of sadness rolling over him. He tried shining his own warmth, the good feelings brought about by defeating Michael, to raise his spirits. “Castiel,” he said, “we will find a way.”

“This is the Empty, Jack,” he sighed, “We barely beat it before –“

“That was before. But now, I have my powers back. Powers that were able to break through and bring you back,” Jack urged, smiling, “It might be an ancient, all-powerful deity but we are Winchesters. Once we set our minds to something, we’ll find a way.”

Castiel attempted a smile, but it was a frightening grimace. “I can only pray that your optimism proves true.”

Jack nodded, “It has to, Cas. We’re the good guys. We earned it.”

As if triggered, Castiel launched himself across the divide and engulfed Jack in a hug. Jack, stunned for a moment, returned it in a heartbeat. “I’m so proud of who you are, Jack,” Castiel told him, “At least when all else fades, we’ll still have each other.”

Jack pulled him even closer, unwilling to let go. After a long beat, they finally let go. “I should probably –“

“Before you do,” Castiel holds his wrist, “I must ask… please, don’t tell Dean. If the others find out, then they find out but… Dean can’t know.”

Jack frowned. “He has to find out at some point.”

“I understand,” Castiel nodded, “But… I have to tell him. In my own time.”

Jack agreed, and he’s let go. “What are you going to do until then?”

Castiel glanced back into the room, showing a glimmer of a real smile. “I’ll be there for Dean, as I always am.” He left after that, returning to the room. Jack tiptoed closer, peering in to watch Castiel slip in beside Dean. Dean rolled over, tossing an arm around Castiel’s figure.

Jack turned away, charting a course for the library. Netflix forgotten, he realized the only thing he could do now was research. Because after being privy to a scene like that, he’ll be damned if anything tries to tear his family apart again.

#Supernatural #SPn #Spn14 #Spoilers #Spn Spoilers #Jack Kline #14x14 #14x14 Ouroboros #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fanfic

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dotthings · 6 years ago

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SPN 2.20 and SPN 14.10

Rewatched SPN 2.20 What Is and What Should Never Be with SPN 14.10 in mind, because I wanted to look at how the characters have grown and changed, how Dean’s real life has changed, and what has changed in the show’s overall theme. Oh and if you want your heart absolutely shredded, look back at Dean in 2.20.

First let’s talk about this idea of happiness.

Because S14 has a major theme about “what do you want” and not just contentment. It’s what do you really want. Can they have they want while still being in the life? White picket fence isn’t presented as the ideal on SPN any more, now it’s more about finding happiness while saving people, hunting things, but different ways to hunt that maybe don’t involve so much letting yourself get torn to shreds, without so much isolation. Happiness can be found within what’s already there. All that is at work in 14.10. Dean’s contentment place was still in the life, Sam and Cas are out hunting, Dean hasn’t totally stopped his hunting ways but he mostly is focusing on his bar. Pamela asks “why do you always want what you can’t have.” But it’s notable that Dean’s contentment space is still connected to the sources of his trauma, the sources of pain he expressed about it back in 2.20. Not a complete opposite to the life he actually leads like the djinn-world of 2.20. Rocky’s Bar instead is a feasible scenario outcome for Dean’s actual life. One reason the djinn-world in 2.20 didn’t hold up for Dean was it was too different from his actual life.

2.20 touchstones several times on the concept of “happiness.”

Dean says in the djinn-world, “It’s like my old life is coming after me...it doesn’t want me to be happy.”

Dean, mimicking John, says “Your happiness, for all those people’s lives, no contest.”

On the subject of relative safety and contentment, Djinn-world Mary tells Dean, trying to persuade him to stay, “it doesn’t matter. It’s still better than anything you’ve had.”

Which connects to Dean in 14.10 saying about Rocky’s Bar that he never had anything this good.

In 2.20, his djinn-world family pleads with him to stay with them, offering safety, peace. Begging him not to go back to the real world.

In 14.10, real Cas pleads with Dean to come back to the real world. “The people in your real life...we need you to come back.” Real Sam drops the code word “Poughkeepsie” which sets off Dean remembering all that’s really happened.

2.20 Dean shakes himself out of the dream by stabbing himself with a knife and that moment coincides with real Sam shouting real Dean’s name. Sam credits Dean with bringing himself out of it, and oh look, it’s the concept of strong Dean that gets repeated many times in 14.10 -- “I’m glad you got yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn’t have had the strength.” I do wonder if Sam finding real Dean, calling to him, translated to the knife in the djinn-world, that Dean subconsciously heard it and it helped him reject the djinn-world family’s pleas. Or it may have been all Dean and Sam was there for the moment Dean wakes up.

2.20 djinn-world was much more about Dean’s family being happy, mostly Sam being happy, than about Dean finding all he wants, and that is a very season 2 Dean thing to do. He has some of what he, himself wants, in djinn-world but it’s an imperfect life. He doesn’t get along with Sam. John is still dead (but he died peacefully, after a peaceful life). Djinn-world Dean isn’t like our real world Dean, he’s not a horrible person but he emerges as someone a bit selfish, aimless, drinks too much, unreliable, wronged his little brother quite a few times as they grew up. Which is a tragic comment on what maybe Dean thinks he’d be if he didn’t hunt--instead of realizing all the things Dean is on his own merit, outside of hunting. John raised him to believe his only value was to watch after Sam, and be a hunter. And on what Dean thinks his relationship with Sam would be if they weren’t hunters.

By 2.20, Dean never had a chance to think much about what else interested him or pursue it, either in or outside the life. the djinn-world in 2.20 is starkly different than Dean’s actual life. As I pointed out above, this makes Michael more dangerous and more clever than a djinn. Rocky’s Bar is similar to Dean’s life, it’s plausible, while the 2.20 djinn-world is so wildly different it keeps Dean off-balance instead of placated.

Season 14 Dean has had more opportunity to think about who he is and what he wants and understand he isn’t just dad’s “blunt instrument.” S14 Dean more than S2 Dean is maybe developing an awareness he is more than he thinks he is, that he is more than just one thing, more than what John put on him, and that it’s not impossible to integrate some of his wants into the hunting life.

2.20 is, primarily, Dean’s Gesthemane, that is the main A plot point of the ep and there is no room for happiness in order to follow the duty of saving all those lives, and Dean makes the right choice. For one thing, letting himself be a blood juice-box for a djinn isn’t any kind of life, and he chooses to return to the pain rather than life in what’s effectively a drug-haze while his body gets destroyed. For another, yes, he and Sam have saved many lives and they are needed in the real world.

By S14, SPN is looking at a less harsh dichotomy. Is it necessary to completely give up all happiness, and disregard all safety, in order to stay in the life. S14 is showing new ways to hunt. It’s showing less isolation for Sam and Dean. The ideal in SPN is no longer limited to the white picket fence, it’s more about finding happiness within what you have, without rejecting all that you’ve done and who you are. It’s the good and the bad, reconciled. Sam and Dean are still in the life but they don’t live out of seedy hotel rooms. They have a stable home base, they have an expanded family, the concept of Cas as a significant other already right under Dean’s nose continues to thump on the door of its closet demanding to be let out, while Sam and Dean and Cas have adopted a son.

The idea of finding your bliss, of achieving happiness, doesn’t always involve running away or rejecting the life you’ve got and all the people in it. Sometimes in life it does, but not always.

Another thing about 2.20, in the end Sam tells Dean “it hurts like hell, but it’s worth it” and the ep ends on Dean’s troubled face. While leaving Sam behind would be unthinkable, I am struck by the bleakness that surrounds Sam and Dean, together, in 2.20 and the bleakness of what Dean returns to. Dean has Sam...and that’s the only source of comfort he’s got at that point. In 14.10, there’s a lot more sense that Dean is returning to a whole life he’s got there, it’s not just him and Sam clinging to each other in a life-raft surrounded by sharks and they are out of food and water and are down to one flare left. It’s not that they have literally no one else in 2.20. They have Bobby. John’s dead. The Harvelles are out there, but the Harvelles are not integrated, daily, into Sam and Dean’s lives like the extended family with Cas and Jack they have now. S2 just doesn’t have the same kind of arcing about extended family as the show has now. It always mattered, but the landscape now is different.

Relevant here also is Sam’s arc over the past few seasons which has been about his acceptance that this is his life, that he doesn’t need to run from it, and his opportunity to use his own specific skills more fully, to find better methods of hunting, and maybe save more hunter lives and keep his own family safer without it meaning rejecting the hunting life wholesale. Sam ran for a long time. He kept trying to reject it. Dean kept taking it on.

But hunting isn’t what makes Dean happy. It gives him a sense of purpose and I don’t think he wants to stop but it isn’t what makes him happy. Saying hunting makes him happy and so that’s all he should ever do and ever be is a severely limited view of the character and it’s certainly not what canon has been exploring with Dean for 14 seasons now. But within that job, that purpose...S14 era SPN moves things to where Dean can think about what he wants and see about getting it. It’s at least on the table. 2.20...that can never be.

#dean winchester #spn #supernatural #meta #supernatural spoilers #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #Sam and Dean: a work in progress #tfw 2.0 #destiel #dean and cas

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