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weaponizedvirtue · 1 year

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The Face I Hide Behind, Pt. 1 {Peaky Blinders}

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You met Thomas Shelby as Eli Carter, your hair shorn short, your chest bound, the Royal Engineers crest proudly adorning your uniform. You find him again as discarded Marie Tillerson, a woman shamed but remembered.

Notes: I discovered recently that many woman enlisted in the world wars disguised as men. It made me wonder what being in a high-stress environment like the tunnels would be like as a woman, especially if you were trying to hide that secret from someone like Tommy. Soft Tommy, implied romance, reader can be viewed as gender fluid or female with gender norms defied.

Part two can be found here.

"Carter?"

You know that voice. Like the back of your own hand, you know that voice. You turn sharply and sure enough, pale blue eyes and squared shoulders stoop to meet your own.

"Shelby. Jesus, haven't seen you in awhile."

He lifts his eyebrows at that, his gaze still piercing through you like a spotlight. You’d almost forgotten how unyielding the man’s focus could be. His silence says more than he does, shouting and cursing at you even when he won’t. You rock back onto your heels, gesturing behind you with a shake of her thumb. You know what comes next, know what it looks like just before the dog bites, and your knees ache with anticipation.

“I can go. Sir. If you’d prefer.”

Thomas blinks and it cracks the smooth glass facade of his face, something of a tell that you’d always tried to drag out of him before. He considers you carefully, tapping his cigarette back against the palm of his hand before shaking his head.

“You still drink?”

It’s unexpected, though certainly not unwelcome. You nod and wonder if he even knows the half of it, then open your mouth to ask him the same question. But Thomas moves again before you can, his cigarette disappearing between his teeth with practiced precision. He turns, confident as always that you’ll follow without question, then strides back towards the outskirts of town.

“Come on then.”

The Garrison. He's as strategic as ever, it seems.

Your eyes rove slowly across the sign in the window as if there's some other message inside of it. You can feel Thomas's eyes watching you, but he always did know the importance of pacing. When you glance back at him, he opens the door a little wider and beckons you inside with a jerk of his head.

As you enter, you mark each and every detail down in an invisible ledger- three haggard customers, one a good deal younger than the others, four dimmed lamps, eleven tables, give or take, and a waitress sweeping in and out of view as two drunkards sling cards across their table.

It's comfortable, somehow. Lived in, loud enough to be familiar, soft enough to be ignored.

"What'll it be, Tom?"

The bartender leans forward with a smile, running a hand towel across the bar counter as you and Thomas settle behind it.

"Whiskey. And a scotch for Marie."

Your heart jolts to a stop and you turn to stare at Thomas. Normally, you'd have been annoyed at a man ordering you a drink without consulting you on your preference first. But a former sergeant major is a step above the regular smitten drunk at the bar and besides the point-

"You remembered."

"You have odd taste."

You don’t dictate that with a response, your eyes frozen on his face as you try to jumpstart your own heart.

"My name, Mr. Shelby. I didn't think you'd remember my n-"

"You were a special case. And it's Tom." His eyes flick over to you for the briefest of seconds as you open your mouth to protest, a command unto itself.

"You're in Birmingham now, not some hole in the mud. It's Tom."

"Tom. Okay."

The use of first names seems too personal somehow and for a moment, you miss the familial barking of last names and orders and swears that you had become used to on the field. There is a sealed promise of companionship in such actions and a wall of formality to hide behind in the absence of confidence. Here, you’re exposed.

The bartender returns quickly with your drinks, blessedly oblivious to your conversation, before disappearing again. You and Thomas sit in silence, sipping slowly at your glasses, and a loathsome wave of longing rolls through your gut. You’ve missed this. The comfortable camaraderie of someone you know simply inhabiting the same space.

“Thought you had family in Shere. What’re you doing in Small Heath, mm?”

You swallow, a long-stowed explanation waiting to spill from your throat. You want to admit just how poorly the past few months have gone, want to lift a mirror to Thomas’s face and ask if he thinks he’s done any better. You want to search Thomas Shelby’s pockets and pluck out a medal or two, just for penance, just for something to keep for yourself.

But it’s a flood of anger you know he doesn’t deserve and it tears out of you in cascading waves and a crashing tide to consume everything in its path. Instead, you take another slow sip of your drink and focus solely on the taste as it passes over your tongue. The torrent in your stomach slowly settles and you shrug instead, your eyes circling over the lip of your glass.

“Shere is small. People talked.”

They’d done much more than talk. They’d whispered and shouted and scowled and you’d grown tired of it quickly enough. You had stood at the base of your parent’s house and they’d spoken to you like you were a stranger, guarded and grieving as if their child hadn't really come back from the war. And there had been a moment, somewhere between your mother drawing the curtains and your father’s quiet request for you to leave, that your chest caved in on itself. Some part of you had clawed at the thought, screamed and cried and pleaded with him inside the walls of your mind. But you’d given too much of yourself to the tunnels and to a team who no longer considered you one of their one. Some part of you had wondered if it was just a consequence you should have expected.

So you’d nodded, swallowed your pain, and the next train out of town had carried you with it.

“England is plenty big enough. I can go somewhere they don’t.”

You can feel Thomas’s gaze, as pointed as it ever had been, but you can’t bring yourself to check if it’s sympathy on the man’s face or the smug understanding of a disappointed parent.

You both fall into silence again, but the quiet itches against your skin this time, a drenched blanket too heavy to remove from your shoulders.

There are things you’ve meant to say, words that demanded to be spoken, and if the universe was kind enough to lend you his company even one more time, it would have to be enough.

You frown, flinching in nervous anticipation, then down the half glass of scotch you have left. Liquid courage, they called it. Your hands clench around your elbows and you drag in one last breath before turning your body to face your former officer completely.

His chin lifts, somewhere between confidence and curiosity, and he takes a sip from his own, slow but no less invested than your own.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to you.”

Your hands flutter forward, aimed for Thomas’s own for a fraction of a moment before the muscle memory of the past two years kicks back hard. You hesitate, swallow back the need for physical comfort, and stow your fingers flat beneath your thighs.

“I’d wanted to say goodbye, Tom.”

But you hadn’t. Hadn’t been allowed to say goodbye to anyone really.

Your last day is still hazy in your memory, another battlefield mess where time didn’t work the way it should, where every element of reality bled into the next. You remember a hissing. A warning, half forming in your mouth, and then a flash at the edge of your vision. The earth collapsing around you and someone’s hand, grabbing at your collar and yanking you forward. Dust and grit filling your lungs where the oxygen should be. There was no goddamn air. No goddamn air and the heat and the damp and the darkness crowded around you like smog.

The path leading out of the tunnels had locked shut with a boom and something large and heavy had collided with the back of your head. The surrounding torches had gone out in one quick burst, swallowing up the world in black.

A snap sounds loud and sharp inside of your ears and you startle; the Garrison slides back into place around you. Air rushes back into your lungs, spinning through your bloodstream so fast it makes your head spin. Beside you, Thomas lowers his hand from your face, his fingers slowly relaxing from where they’d clicked together.

“Hmm.” It comes out as more of a burst of air than an actual word. You blink back at him for a moment, breathing in through your nose, picturing your heart beating slower and slower until it returns to an almost normal pace. “General was there when I woke up. Said I didn’t have time for goodbyes. Said ladies shouldn't be on the field and that I was being sent home. Honorable discharge.”

It’s strange, that you can’t remember an explosion or the pulsing moments of fear in all the life or death situations you’ve faced. Yet each and every expression on your fellow soldiers’ faces as you crept from the medic’s tent would forever remain stamped on the back of your eyelids. It had been a moment you’d prayed to avoid- that the war would end with you still standing and the fury and shock and silence that came with an exposed lie would pass with no consequence.

Thomas Shelby could have remained the man across the fire. He could have stayed the companion who shared the little food he had while you were on watch, the friend who had muttered playful barbs and quiet encouragement to you after your first week in the tunnels, the confidant you trusted with all but one secret.

And you could have avoided the look of solemn judgment chiseled into his face as you pulled the car door shut behind you.

“I was angry with you.” There's pain in Thomas's voice as he speaks. His eyes glance down at his glass and he takes a long, slow draw of his whiskey.

The words burn, though you’d guessed at the fact months before. You nod, swallowing back something like a sob, and tuck your chin down sharply.

“Had the right to be. I wanted to tell you. If I’d told anyone, it would have been you. Was just… scared you’d turn me in.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

He could shatter bones with his words, you think.

A quiver of sound sits in the back of your throat and for a moment, you allow yourself to imagine what it would have been like. It still would have been difficult, to hide your true identity for the sake of being able to fight for what you believed in. But you wouldn't have been alone. Would have been protected in the way only sharing one's secrets could ensure.

And there would have been Tom, walking beside you, where before you'd taken the road alone.

You stare back at Thomas, searching for the tiniest hint of a lie, the flicker of a fuse igniting him into cinders. You wait for the rage, for the silent dismissal, but it never comes. A breath of shocked disbelief breaks from behind your teeth and you lean forward into your hands.

"Jesus, Shelby, you always did know how to render us speechless."

"It's Tom."

It's Tom. Even after her fall from grace and the bruising lack of trust she'd placed in him, it's still Tom.

Your eyes flutter back to the man and something like hope blossoms inside of your chest, warring with the shame that churns in your stomach.

"Tom. I'm sorry."

"I know."

He does, you think. His voice is just as quiet as your own, just as soft and calculated as it used to be around the torchlight of your camp. His lips curl neatly around each word, purposeful and focused, and when he looks at you like he does, accusing and forgiving all at the same time, it feels like your cracks seal up just enough to consider yourself solid.

It’s easier after that. The two of you fall into conversation, the kind that you remember from before, where you talk of nothing and everything and the hours pass like seconds. The glasses pile up quickly enough and the walls begins to tilt just a little to the left. The glow of the lamps around you softens the ache in your bones and the room seems to shrink to the bar alone, to the two seats you occupy, and the cocksure figure of the man sitting across from you.

By the time you look around again, the bar sits almost empty, only a straggler or two hugging onto their tables or so deep into their cups that they won't recover till morning.

"It's late."

There's hesitance in your voice, an unwillingness to leave what you've missed for so long. It had been easy enough to convince yourself since your discharge that you were fine alone, happy with solitude, but the idea of losing Thomas’s company so soon is startling.

“You got a place to stay?”

You shake your head, shrugging. You’ve been traveling long enough now that you’ve learned the alternatives to a roof over your head. There are places to go, groups you can fit yourself into if it just means a place to sleep for the night. Summer is on its way anyhow and you always did enjoy being out underneath the stars.

“Right.” Thomas slaps his hand against the counter, his expression resolute. It’s one you’ve grown used to, a look that says something is an order and not a suggestion. You don’t disobey orders. “My place then.”

The offer still isn’t one you expect and you hurry to get to your feet as Thomas adjusts his coat and heads for the door.

“It’s not necessary, Tom.”

He slips out of the bar quickly, his gait focused, and you hurry out after him. Your feet shift unsteadily beneath you as the street tilts slightly, but you manage to slide forward to stand in front of the man. Without thinking, you drag both hands up onto Thomas’s shoulders, as much to keep you standing as it is to give him pause. You blink for a moment, admiring the scratch of wool against your palms, and a chuckle sounds in your ears. Fingers slowly pluck your own from Thomas’s jacket and his hand squeezes around your wrist.

“Come on.”

Thomas’s tone leaves no room for debate, but his stance does, and appreciation rolls slowly back to you. For all his insistence, he’ll still wait long enough for the decision to be yours.

Still, you’re afraid you’ve misunderstood. Afraid he wants more than you can give or means less than you could hope.

“By stay, you just meant-” You roll your balance onto your heels, well aware that the action could have tremendous consequences with the amount of liquor you’ve consumed over the past few hours. “-to… stay, yeah? Not…” The words escape you and heat rises into your cheeks.

“You never were very good with words.”

Your right arm jerks upward almost by habit and you clap your left hand down across your bicep before you can stop yourself. A bark of laughter escapes from Thomas’s throat and a traitorous grin climbs onto your lips. The man’s moods are alarmingly infectious.

“I like numbers better.”

Light from the nearest streetlamp glances off of Thomas’s face as his expression softens; he takes a slow inhale from his cigarette and the tip sends a flare of orange over his cheeks that sets your skin alight.

“Respite from the storm. That’s all I’m offering, Tillerson.”

“Mmm.” You consider him carefully, wishing you had the courage to tell him that he had been just that a hundred times already. Instead, you nod, and follow him home.

It’s a modest flat, smaller than you can imagine Thomas Shelby normally fitting into. But that’s Thomas to a tee, carefully remaking himself to match his surroundings. And it’s quiet and warm and if that’s not reminiscent of home, you’re not sure what is.

“It’s not much. Not yet.”

“But it’s something.” You turn and smile softly back at him, grateful to even somewhere that’s warm and dry.

“Bed’s all yours. I’ll take the floor.”

He sheds his jacket off with a shrug and his knees bend as if to drop out from beneath him. Stubborn insistence rises inside of your chest and you pat the spot on the bed beside you, shaking your head.

“Tom. How many nights have we slept beside each other?”

“This is diff-”

“It’s not.” A yawn forces its way out of your throat and you blink sleepily back at the man. “Come on, mate. It's still me.”

Thomas remains standing for a moment, his lips twisting as he watches you stretch towards the ceiling. Your hand pats the bed again and without waiting for his response, you turn over on your stomach, pressing your face into the sheets. The day’s events catch up to you suddenly, dragging you under in a wave of fatigue; it’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a safe place and sleep beckons.

Slowly, so slowly you're not sure it isn’t a dream, a weight settles on the bed beside you. A body comes to rest at your back and with a pleased murmur, you fall asleep.

#peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x reader #female soldier #world war #writing

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male-body-swap-lover · 1 year

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Becoming the Old Man Next Door

Carter Austin was annoyed that he had to be home for his parents 30th wedding anniversary. The model was only in town for one night, and even that was too much. He hated Fairview and missed the fast life of New York. The 28-year-old was one of the hottest models on the scene and couldn’t believe he was wasting his weekend in his childhood bedroom.

Hon, we are so excited that you are home. We’ve missed you.

You know how busy I’ve been mom. I’m one of the hottest models. I’m constantly booked.

I know. We told Mr. Jarvis that you were coming home and he was so excited to see you.

Mom, I’m 28. I don’t want to go see our old neighbor.

Oh, just do it Carter. It’ll make him happy. He’s lonely. His wife has been dead for 20 years and he has no children. Just do it.

Fine.

I went next door and rang the doorbell. Mr. Jarvis answered the door. I forgot how fat he was.

Austin my boy. So good to see you. Come in come in. Sit down. I’ll get you a drink.

As I sat in his living room, I looked around at his depressing life. The room seemed straight out of the 1970’s, and it reeked of tobacco. 15 minutes. That’s all I need.

Here’s a coke. So, tell me about New York.

It’s fun. I travel the world. I’m one of the top models out there.

I know. I’ve followed you. You are quite the good-looking young men. I bet ladies throw themselves at you.

I get my fair number of women. And men. I don’t discriminate.

I wish I had your life. My life was always boring. And it’s been worse ever since Marian died. I live a lonely life.

Well not everyone can have my life. This coke tastes weird.

That’s because it’s not coke at all. It’s a special potion. You see Carter, I’m tired of being an old man who never did anything with his life. I want a life in the fast lane. So, I am going to steal yours.

What. That’s not possible

I stand up and try to move, but I can’t. It’s like I am frozen in place.

Carter, look in the mirror. Can’t you see the changes have already begun.

As I stared into the mirror, I could see the wrinkles start appearing on my face. Suddenly I started breathing heavier as I felt myself get older. I ran my hands through my hair and it came out in chunks in my hand. I tried to run, to get out, but couldn’t move. My skin was aging. I could feel my youth leaving my body. Passing 30. All of my hair fell out. Passing 40. Stubble appeared on my face. Then it stopped. I looked in the mirror. Damn. I’m fucking old, but I’m fucking hot.

Haha old man. I’m still fucking hot. Look at me. Your plan failed.

You aren’t very smart are ya Carter. That was just step one.

Step one! I turned to him and saw that somehow his hair had grown back in and he looked middle aged. It’s like my hair and age went to him!

Yes, there are three steps. Let’s start step number two.

With that he clapped his hands and suddenly I felt bloated. My stomach was starting to rumble. I looked in the mirror and my face was bubbling. Suddenly it felt like I was blowing up like a balloon. 10, 20, 50, 100, 150, 200 pounds of fat just suddenly appeared on my body. For some reason as I grew, my clothes grew with me.

I was a whale. No one would ever recognize me. It was absolutely disgusting. I used to make fun of people who looked like this. Now I was one of them. I turned and looked at my captor. He looked good. He was so skinny. It’s like all of his weight transferred to my body! He was hot! I was so jealous. Wait he said this was step two, what was step three going to be?!

Damn, I never even looked this good when I used to be in my 40’s. This is amazing. I bet you are wondering about step three. Well, I suppose it’s time to start the final step. Get ready to say goodbye to any remaining part of your old life.

A wave suddenly washed over me. I could feel the life force draining from my body. My facial hair was turning white. My back pain was killing me. I could feel pain everywhere in my body. Arthritis. But I’m only 28. What is happening. I didn’t even think this was possible.

I’m Marvin Jarvis. Wait what! No I’m not Marvin… I’m um….i’m um. What is going on. It’s like I am losing my memories.

What are you doing to me. Why can’t I remember my name. Why do I think I’m you.

Because, Marvin, that’s part of step three. I become you and you become me. We might not look exactly the same, but the world will change to suit us. Why don’t you look at your license.

I could barely reach my wallet. I pulled out my driver’s license. It still said Carter Austin, and then it changed. Marvin Jarvis. 81 years old. 375 pounds. I looked at the photo and then at my reflection in the mirror. There was the same old man. Me!

You’ll never get away with this.

I already have. Your old memories will continue to slip away until you become Marvin Jarvis. Meanwhile, I’ll get your memories and live out my life again. A world-famous model. Carter Austin. My life is set.

Suddenly my mom entered the house.

Hello Marvin. I just came to get Carter. Dinner is ready.

I wanted to scream out. To tell my mom what happened. All that came out was “Of course Karen. It was lovely seeing Carter again. What a fine man he has become.”

Mom, I am just going to hug Mr. Jarvis goodbye and then I’ll be home.

Okay. See you soon honey. Goodbye Marvin.

The new Carter came and hugged me. Good luck Mr. Jarvis. You’ll need it. Don’t forget to take your heart pills, and back pills, and all the other pills. Don’t drive at night. Also, your social security check barely covers basic living expenses. Haha. Better get one last look at me. This is the last time you’ll see me. I’m never coming back to this hodunk town.

I started crying as the new Carter Austin left. He may not have looked exactly like me, but what does it matter. The world believes he is Carter and I am Marvin.

I sat down because my knees were giving out. I tried to remember everything about my old life, but I could feel it slipping away. I’m trapped. There is nothing I can do. You know what sounds good right now. A good pipe. I wonder if NCIS is on. 6:30pm. Almost time for bed. Well, maybe being an old man isn’t going to be so bad after all.

#male body swap #age regression #age progression #old to young #male body theft #identity theft #young to old #weight gain #body switch

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sophie1973 · 13 days

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Seven Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by @suseagull04 today. Thank you !

Here is a snippet of my WIP 'Wait for me (To come home) which I will start posting on September 27.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Claremont-Diaz,” “Mrs. Carter,” he greets her. Henry notices with a faint contentment that he doesn’t tell her to call him Alex. “I don’t believe we had an appointment, right? Is Jack alright?” The woman's eyes dart between Alex and Henry, poorly concealing her curiosity. "Oh yes, he’s perfectly fine," she says with a fond look at her pomeranian. “I saw you and just wanted to say hi.” She lingers a moment longer than necessary, her gaze inquisitive.

After a brief exchange about Jack’s well-being, Mrs. Carter moves on, but not before throwing one last speculative glance over her shoulder. As soon as she's out of earshot, Alex lets out a small chuckle. “That was Janet Carter,” Alex explains, a hint of amusement in his voice. "She's the town's unofficial gossip center. By tomorrow, everyone will know that Dr. Claremont-Diaz was having lunch in the square with a handsome stranger." Henry feels a blush creeping up his neck. "Oh, I... I'm sorry. I hope I haven't caused any trouble for you." Alex waves off his concern. "Don't sweat it. Small-town life, you know? People love a bit of excitement." A moment of silence settles between them, and Henry finds himself grappling with a question that's been nagging at him. Aiming for nonchalance, he ventures, "I wouldn't want to cause any trouble with a... significant other." Smooth, Fox. Real smooth. Alex's eyes lock onto Henry's, a flicker of something indefinable dancing in their depths. "Henry, I clock 65 hours a week at the clinic. I've yet to meet anyone willing to put up with that schedule," he says, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "So, no. No girlfriend or boyfriend." He punctuates this with a meaningful look that sets Henry's pulse racing. Message received, loud and clear.

Tagging with no pressure : @onthewaytosomewhere @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes @firenati0n

@thighzp @14carrotghoul @taste-thewaste @bitbybitwrites

@blueeyedgrlwrites @kj-bee @wordsofhoneydew @whoevenknows-things

@porcelainmortal @caterpills @thesleepyskipper @milowren29

@priincebutt @iboatedhere @magicmelinoe @theprinceandagcd

#red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #rwrb fic #Henry the burned out hotel manager #Wait for me (to come home)#Sophie1973

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gaysindistress · 1 year

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Dial Drunk - part 2 of Fine Line

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst and the feels oh and Peggy Carter slander

Word count: 2.1k words

Master list

Fine line 1 & Cocaine Jesus 3

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom

a/n: I love a good song fic. Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan sponsors this fic so I highly suggest you listen to it.

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

“Son, is there someone I can call for you?” the Sheriff asks while half dragging and carrying a drunk Steve into the station. Under the dead weight of the mafia boss, the elderly Sheriff struggles to get them inside as the rain pelts them so hard, he’s expecting there to be bruises on both of them.

Steve mumbles something as his head lolls to the side but the other man cannot make out a single word or number for that matter. At the door, he waves to his deputies to him with the door and he all but drops Steve onto his younger deputies.

“Son, I don’t know your name. Where is your wallet or your phone?”

Steve shoves his hand into his coat pocket which sends all of them into high alert but it’s all false as he dumps the asked for items onto a desk. The Sheriff gets to work to figure out his name and find an emergency contact or anything at all that might be helpful.

“Alright, Mr. Rogers,” he announces as he types away at a computer, no doubt pulling up Steve’s criminal record as well as his contacts, “Should I call a Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers? Is that still current?”

Steve scoffs at the name as he falls into a seat next to the Sheriff, “My own wife hates me.”

A deputy gives the Sheriff a look but he ignores it and calls the number nonetheless. Steve slumps back into the hard chair and drops his head back in attempts of sleeping off the horrendous hangover he’s going to have. The phone rings and rings, leaving him with just the dial tone as Peggy ignores the call. They try again but nothing happens. She ignores the call. They try a third time and finally she answers.

“Hello?” her accented voice wakes Steve.

“Hi is this Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers?”

She snorts, “Not anymore. If this is about Steve, call someone else. I don’t care”

The dial tone replaces her voice and all of the officers look at each other in disbelief.

“Did… Did she just hang up?” the same deputy asks.

The sheriff clears his throat and brushes over his thick gray mustache as he thinks about what to do next.

“I told you she hates me,” Steve pipes up, “Wasted your time.”

“Is there anyone else we can call?”

He shrugs, “She won’t answer either.”

Behind them two deputies are whispering to each other about how wrong it was of Peggy to hang up but quickly stop when the Sheriff gives them a pointed look.

“Maybe SHE will answer. What’s her name and number?” He extends the phone out to Steve who drops it and has to slowly reach down to pick it up. It takes him longer than usual to open it and find the number of the woman whose house he practically ran from. After he left Y/N’s house, he found the nearest bar and drank the place out of anything that would numb the rejection pain. For ten years, he dreamed of nothing but seeing his girl again and when he finally did, his past decisions ruined any chance of a relationship with her again. For ten years, he resented Peggy, his father, his mother even and himself for not fighting harder for Y/N. For ten years, he regretted everything he had done and prayed that somehow he could go back in time to just be with her.

“Y/N hates me too.”

Still the sheriff dials the number and hopes that this mystery woman will answer the phone. It rings five times and they’re all beginning to think that this will be a repeat of the first call but she does answer.

Her voice is raw from crying but she answers, “Hello?”

“Hi ma'am, is this Y/n?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“Well ma’am, this is the Kings County sheriff department. I’m Sheriff Anderson. I have Steve Rogers here and he’s going to be held overnight in the drunk tank or you can come pick him up.”

“Shit, okay. Um…” there’s a long pause but they can hear her shuffling around, “I can be there in 45 minutes, is that okay?”

“Yes of course ma’am. We appreciate you answering the phone so late and coming right away.”

“Uh… yeah no problem I guess,” she mumbles something else but Steve doesn’t catch it.

Anderson motions to his deputies and has them take Steve to a cell while he waits. He’s half asleep and even heavier than before as they haul him into his own cell. Next to him is another lonely drunk stranger who was ignored and left to figure their shit out alone. Regardless he can’t be bothered to care and he shucks off his overcoat to use it as a pillow. Crossing his arms over his chest and his legs over each other, he settles into a short nap while he waits for Y/N. A part of him isn’t even sure that she is actually coming and he’s starting to convince himself that she never answered the door in the first place. She’s not coming to take him home…there's no home where they live together. There is no place where they love and support each other because he destroyed that when he married Peggy. Tears begin to grow heavy on his eyes but he won’t allow himself to cry over the past no matter how recent it might be.

He pulls his arms tighter across himself and rolls over so that his back faces outwards. With his face hidden, the tears start to fall against his will and he does nothing to stop them even though just moments ago he vowed that the past wouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t try to wipe them and lets the pain metastasize in his body, growing a tumor of emotions that can’t be cured by anything.

Time slips away from him as the memories and hurt wash over him. Anderson clears his throat to get Steve’s attention and starts to unlock the cell’s door.

“We took his keys so you can drive it home if you didn’t bring your own car,” Anderson says to Y/N.

She smiles and nods, taking the keys from him and clutching them as she stares at the sad excuse of a man laying on the bed. Steve wipes at his eyes and groans as he slides off of the hard jail bed. Shaking out his pillow coat, he puts it on before making eye contact with her. She sighes at him and thanks Anderson for all that he’s done even though it’s not procedure. When Steve stands, he sways and she’s quick to catch him, waving off Anderson who offers to take him. They don’t say anything to each other as she acts as his crutch and walk towards his car. She fumbles with the keys and drops them.

“Lean on the car,” she tells him as she bends down to pick them up, “Do you need my help getting in?”

He furrows his brow like a toddler, “No I can do it myself.”

Shaking her head at him, she unlocks the car and lets him struggle to fold his large body into the passenger side. She slides into the driver’s side and takes a deep breath. Never again did she think that she would dealing with Steve let alone driving his car as he’s almost black out drunk in the passagner seat.

He mumbles something along the lines of “It’s a remote start.”

Y/N hums her understanding and finds the button. It blinks to life and heavy metal music greets them at an unbearable volume. He whimpers at the noise and slams his hand onto the power button to turn it off as quick as he can. Satisfied that the offending noise has stopped, he curls into himself against the window and rests his head on the cool glass.

“Did you put your seat belt on?”

He answers by puling the belt over himself and clicking it into place.

She backs out of the spot and leaves the Sheriff’s station behind. Silence fills the space around them as the street lights and porch lights pass through the window. The lights splash across her face and unbeknownst to her, Steve is stealing glances at her through the window’s reflection. What little he can see of her breaks his heart even more as he can see the fatigue and hurt tense in her features. Her hair, usually styled and pristine, has been hastily clipped up with a claw clip that’s holding on for dear life. Under the long winter coat she’s wearing is just a pair of pj pants and a white crop top. She’s not even really wearing shoes but instead a pair of worn down clogs that should only be worn inside. Seeing how vulnerable she is, he can’t help himself grow protective and upset that she left in such a hurry.

“I hope you drove,” slips out albeit slurred.

“What?” she asks, quickly looking over at him.

“I said I hope you drove.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Do you see what you’re wearing?”

She blinks and scoffs at him, “I just picked your drunk ass up at 2 am and you want to lecture me about my clothing choices.”

“That’s not what I….”

She cuts him off, “Stop. You’re sleeping on the couch and I expect you to be gone when I wake up.”

“Honey.”

“Don’t. I already made myself clear earlier; I want nothing to do with you. I should’ve left you at the stupid station,” she mumbles the last part to herself but he still hears it and sews his mouth shut. The rest of the car ride back to her house is quiet aside from the normal noise of the car and the city.

She wants to regret hurting him with her words but she can’t find it in herself to care anymore. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the petty side of her that strives to inflict as much pain as she can onto him. He did deserve it after all and he’s not protesting at least out loud.

Internally he wants to confess his undying love for her but he knows she won’t care and it won’t change her mind. He does deserve all of her hate and anger. It’s all just no matter how harsh it might be.

Steve keeps stealing glances of her in his window’s reflection and accepts the heartache it induces. Her house comes into view and he can feel her relax when it does. She pauses before fully pulling it and has the garage door open to hide his car from sight in it.

Once inside, she turns it off and waits for the door to shut completely before getting out. Steve watches as she kicks her shoes off and takes off her coat, leaving her in her thin pjs. He climbs out and does the same as her. Following her inside, she instructs him to sit at the island like before while she goes to get him blankets and pillows.

His eyes find the Polaroid again and the memories replay again. The sound of Y/N dropping a stack of bedding brings him around again.

“Here’s a couple blankets and a pillow. Don’t worry about folding them, I'll have to wash them.”

She turns to leave but he calls out softly and stops her, “thank you.”

Her hand rests on the wall beside her and she drops her head to rest on it.

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I want you back. I want YOU.”

She faces him again, “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to make a reappearance and magically everything goes back to how it was.”

Steve pushes off and is before her in a few short strides. He gently holds her face in his warm hands and refuses to let go even though she tugs lightly at his wrists.

“Give me another chance. Please honey, just one more chance,” he begs her as he touches his forehead to hers. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed and her breathing grows shallow, hot breath brushing against his face.

He nudges her head back and ghosts his lips over hers, waiting for her to push him away. When she doesn’t, he captures her lips in a slow and intimate kiss. Everything he’s felt over the last 10 years is flooding her as he moves his lips over hers. Every promise he’s made to himself in her name is conveyed as he sighed against her lips.

She’s the first to pull away and is shaking her head when she does so.

“No.”

#mob au #mafia! steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n #mafia steve rogers x reader #mafia steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fine line steve rogers #steve x reader #Steve rogers #marvel imagine #mafia au

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

Text

Who I write for/Rules;

This is a list of fandoms and characters I write for (some may be missing) and some rules, if you’re curious about a fandom or character please message and I’ll let you know if it’s someone I’ll write for or not! If you’re looking for prompts please search the tag Lokittys prompt list

THIS BLOG IS STRICTLY NO SMUT DO NOT REQUEST IT AS THE REQUEST WILL BE DELTED IMMEDIATELY!!

Please if you’re requesting use some manners, say please and thank don’t demand I write something from you

This blog is for all ages, do not be hostile towards any member of this blog as you will be told to remove yourself immediately and if you don’t I will remove you, hate will not be tolerated this is a safe space regardless of age, sexual orientation, gender/pronouns, disability and such

If you’re wondering about a request you have but you’re worried or confused if I’ll write it or not or you’re just curious please reach out through inbox or asks and I’ll let you know! I write both romantic and plutonic requests for a wide range of characters!

Some things I will NOT write include; teenage pregnancy, smut(or related themes), underage!reader x older characters (these will ALWAYS be plutonic either a parental or sibling relationship). If you’re wondering about anything else just message! 💜

Fate the winx saga

- Saul silva

- Farah Dowling

Avatar

- Jake

- Quaritch/ recom Quaritch

Criminal minds

- Hotch

- Rossi

- Derek

- Spencer

- Jj

- Emily

- Garcia

Castle

- Castle

- Beckett

Lucifer (Fox)

- Lucifer

- Maze

- Chloe

- Dan

Greys anatomy

- Alex

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- Mark

Twilight

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- Esme

Harry Potter

- Sirius

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- Snape

Marvel

- Tony

- Clint

- Bruce

- Natasha

- Thor

- Steve

- Loki

- Bucky

- Logan

- Wanda

- Pietro

- Maria

- Phil

- Carol Danvers

BBC Merlin

- Merlin

- Arthur

- Gwaine

- Leon

- Percival

- Lancelot

BBC Sherlock

- Sherlock

- John

- Moriarty

- Lestrade

- Mycroft

Black butler

- Sebastian

- William

- Undertaker

- Claude

Supernatural

- Sam

- Dean

- Castiel

- Gabriel

- Balthazar

- Chuck

- Crawley

- Lucifer

- Jack

The witcher

- Geralt

- Jaskier

Brooklyn nine nine

- Rosa

- Jake

- Amy

The good doctor

- Melendez

- Shaun

Friends

- Joey

- Rachel

- Ross

- chandler

- Monica

- Phoebe

Teen wolf

- Derek

- Peter

- Melissa (plutonic only)

- Chris

- Parrish

- Noah (plutonic only)

Doctor who

- 9

- 10

- 11

- 12

- 13

- River

- Clara

- Rose

- Amy

- Rory

- Jack

Lord of the rings/the hobbit

- Bilbo

- Legolas

- Thranduil

- Elrond

- Lindir

- Thorin

- Fili

- Kili

- Aragorn

My hero academia

- Aizawa

- Mic

- Dabi

- Hawks

- Midnight

- All Might (Toshinori)

- Fat Gum

Demon slayer

- Rengoku

Tokyo ghoul

- Yomo

- Uta

Durarara!!

- shizuo

Skyrim

- Vilkas

- Farkas

Ackley bridge

- Mr Evershed

- Mrs Carter (plutonic only)

- Mr Bell

The vampire diaries

- Damon

- Klaus

- Elijah

- Finn

the watcher

- Ryan

- Shane

911

- bobby

- Buck

- chim

- hen

- Athena

- Maddie

- Eddie

Downton Abbey

- Thomas Barrow

- Anna

- Tom Branson

- Mary

- Sybil

- Edith

- Mrs Hughes (plutonic only)

Kingsmen

- Merlin

- Eggsy

- Harry

Bones

- Booth

- Brennan (bones)

- Hodgins

- Angela

- Sweets

Buffy the vampire slayer

- Angel

- Giles

The walking dead

- Rick

- Daryl

- Negan

- Glenn

- Rosita

- Carol (plutonic only)

- Gabriel

- Aaron

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baronessblixen · 1 year

Note

48 msr and/or family specifically a real platonic kiss!! None of that Chris Carter platonic bull crap!!!

Real platonic kiss! Not between Mulder and Scully - although...

Post-ep (sort of) for "Chimera", fluff: It's the Sunday morning after Mulder stayed over at Scully's and he has a somewhat awkward run-in with her mother. (wc: 1,417)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 16: Mothers Always Know

Toothbrush hanging from his mouth, Mulder shuffles to the door, opening it without thinking twice about it. Only to come face to face with a smiling Mrs. Scully. While she seems happy to see him opening her daughter’s door on Sunday morning, he’s so baffled that the toothbrush almost falls from his mouth.

“Mrs. Scully,” he says, toothpaste foaming at his mouth.

“Good morning, Fox,” she says, not waiting to be asked inside. She just walks past him, taking off her coat. “I’m a bit early. Traffic was light. Is Dana still asleep?” She turns to him, her eyes expectant. No “what are you doing here”, or even surprise on her face. As if his being here at her daughter’s place was an everyday occurrence. Well, it almost is. But she doesn’t know that. Doesn’t need to know it either.

“No, she’s- um… in the shower.”

“Did you have a late night?” Mulder stares at her. She has her back turned to him, rummaging in the kitchen. This isn’t the first time he’s here on a Sunday, but so far Scully’s mother has never shown up unexpectedly. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or what she and her daughter have planned, but he’s never felt so out of place. So speechless, too. And with a toothbrush still in his mouth. At least he can answer any questions with minty-fresh breath. That has to count for something.

“We- no. I- well, Dana was at a- no, no late night. I-I-I only just got here too,” he says. A blatant lie and he doesn’t know why he said it. He’s never been nervous around Mrs. Scully before but there’s a first time for everything.

“Really, Fox?” Mrs. Scully chuckles, glee apparent in her voice and her expression.

“I forgot to brush my teeth at home,” he explains. “That’s why I came here. To… brush my teeth.” It’s a miracle that Mrs. Scully has neither thrown him out of her daughter’s apartment yet or called him out on his bullshit.

“It’s nice of Dana to let you brush your teeth here.”

“Yes, yes it is. I’m just gonna, um-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Scully emerges from the bathroom, clad in a robe and a towel on her head.

“Am I that late?” she asks her mother, engulfing her in a quick hug. She doesn’t even glance at Mulder. It’s as if he wasn’t here. Part of him wishes he wasn’t. He’s still holding onto his toothbrush. Being stuck here in the kitchen with Mrs. Scully, hell-bent on lying his way out of this situation, he didn’t even get to rinse.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Mrs. Scully says. “I’m early. Fox kept me company.” When Scully finally acknowledges him, he gives a little wave with his toothbrush, causing her to knit her brows together.

“That’s sweet,” she says, still staring at Mulder. Maybe she’s trying to make him disappear. But he can’t just walk out of her apartment barefoot and wearing sweats. Still holding that damn toothbrush.

“That’s Fox for you.” Mrs. Scully throws him a smile and he tries to smile back, but it turns into a grimace. He probably has dried toothpaste around his mouth too. This is not how he imagined their morning to go.

“Excuse me, I’m just gonna…” He motions at his toothbrush, hoping both Scully women understand what he means. He rushes into the bathroom, puts his toothbrush next to Scully’s, and gulps down a glass of water before he rinses his mouth properly.

“You look positively spooked,” Scully says quietly, appearing next to him. She’s drying her hair with her towel, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Your mother is here,” he says, trying to calm his voice. “She saw me.”

“She’s seen you plenty of times, Mulder. What is the problem?”

“It’s Sunday morning, Scully. I opened the door with a toothbrush in my mouth. That’s not very platonic partner, is it? Why didn’t you tell me she was coming this morning?”

“Didn’t I?” she asks, unbothered by it all. “I think I did.

“Maybe I didn’t hear it with your thighs around my head,” he counters, making her grin devilishly. Not that he regrets a second of it. He called her on his way home from Vermont last night, and she asked him to come over. An offer he couldn’t – and didn’t want to – refuse. By the time he got to her apartment, it was late, and Scully had a stipulation: he had to make up for leaving her cold and alone on that stakeout. Mulder happily did both. He pleased her with his mouth, with his fingers, and finally with his all-too-eager penis. Afterwards, he put his arm around her, holding her tight, and sharing his warmth, whispering nonsense into her hair until she fell asleep.

“You don’t have to tell her that,” Scully says with a smile.

“I’m not planning to. Hell, I told her I’m only here this morning to brush my teeth.”

“That makes no sense, Mulder.”

“Thank you, I know that. I panicked.”

“I see it.” Her voice turns soft and she touches his cheek. “You have your panic face on.”

“Aren’t you worried at all?”

“About what?”

“Your mother seeing me here, finding out.”

“Mulder, I’m a grown woman and she knows about us.”

“She does?” His eyes grow wide again.

“I didn’t tell her. I didn’t need to. She, um, she guessed and I didn’t deny it.”

“She knows,” he repeats. “And I just lied to her, rambling on about how I only just got here to brush my teeth. She’s gonna hate me.”

“She loves you, Mulder. Now go out there so I can get ready. Because if you make us miss Mass, she will like you much less.” She gently pushes him and he returns to the kitchen, where Mrs. Scully has made herself comfortable at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her.

“Done brushing your teeth?” she asks without looking up.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Scully. I didn’t know you knew about… well.”

“You and my daughter seem to think I’m blind and deaf. I’m neither.”

“I don’t think that at all. It’s just- all of this is very new. For us.”

“Yes, because you and Dana are the ones who have been blind all these years. I’m happy for you, Fox. For both of you. I see the way you look at Dana. I’ve always known how much you love her. I may sometimes wish that she,” Mr. Scully pauses, sighs, “this is what she’s chosen. I know you protect her as well as you can.”

“She protects me, too,” he says. “Your daughter is the strongest person I know. The smartest, too.”

“You’re a good man, Fox.”

“That’s-”

“The truth,” she interrupts him. He lowers his eyes and nods, refraining from disagreeing with her. He’s caused enough trouble for today.

“I’m ready to go.” Saved by his favorite Scully. She’s dressed and her hair mostly dry. He smiles shyly, watching her.

“Fox, do you want to come with us?”

“No, thank you. You two have a wonderful day together.” He takes Mrs. Scully’s hand to shake it and it’s possibly the most awkward moment he’s ever experienced. She gives him a look that reminds him of her daughter and she curls her finger, gesturing for him to come closer. She wraps her arms around him, tugging him down to her level. Mulder bends his knees, hugging her back.

“Remember what I said,” she says into his ear. “You’re a good man, Fox Mulder.” She breaks the hug but doesn’t let go of him yet. She regards him with knowing eyes and so much kindness that he almost buckles under all that love. “You hear me?” He just nods, cracking a smile. Mrs. Scully gets on her tiptoes, and Mulder, automatically bends down further, so she can press a kiss to his forehead. He closes his eyes, and feels like he’s just been baptized. When she finally lets go of him, he finds Scully’s eyes and she’s just smiling at him as if saying ‘I told you so’. He grins back at her.

“See you later?” she asks while her mother puts on her coat.

“I’ll go feed the fish and then I can come back here.”

“Hm, no. I’ll come to your place.” Scully gives him a quick kiss on the mouth and he can’t help blushing, much to the delight of both Scully women.

#fictober23 #going back to my fluffy roots #had to include mrs scully today on what would have been my mom's birthday <3 #i find the birthdays almost harder than the death days but it is what it is #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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stuckysbike · 1 year

Text

I’ll Be Your Prize 2

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Bucky x Reader

AU: Bucky returns the favour with a surprise for you but it backfires.

Warnings: friends with benefits situation, idiots in love, presumed unrequited love. Sharon is a bitch (never meet your heros).

Part 1

“Oh my god I love her,” you clapped your hands.

“I know,” Bucky was smug, his eyes twinkling as he rested his socked feet on your coffee table. He looked good relaxing in your home, and it was moments like this that you almost asked him to stay.

“Can I come?” You hesitated.

“That’s why I’m here Doll,” he said squeezing your hand. “I knew you’d maim me if I didn’t bring you along.”

“And you’re in her music video?” You asked as you got comfortable on the sofa next to him. You rested your feet on his lap and he tugged playfully on your toes.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it, Sam never consults me on stuff like this he just agrees with everything then sends me along,” Bucky said but he wasn’t annoyed. Sam Wilson was an amazing agent and a close personal friend.

“I can’t believe I’m going to meet Sharon Carter, I’m so excited,” you giggled again as you sipped your wine.

—————

The warehouse Bucky pulled up to was a hive of activity; there was so much to see that you almost tripped as you followed him inside.

Sharon was in the middle of it all, a tiny dress and towering heels making her stand out. She looked beautiful and you admired her good looks as you approached.

“You’re late,” Sam grumbled to Bucky.

“Sorry,” Bucky didn’t sound sorry at all. “Almost ran out of hot water.” He winked at you as he spoke and you giggled fondly, thinking back to the extra long shower you had shared.

“You must be Bucky!” It was Sharon making her way over to him, the heels bringing her close to his height.

“At your service,” his big hand dwarfed hers.

“I’m so excited to work with you,” Sharon said with a grin and a flutter of her eyelashes. Their eyes lingered, and Bucky’s lips curved up.

Your heart stuttered, suddenly you regretted being here and seeing this. They clearly had chemistry and you knew that once again you were going to be the girl on the sidelines, quite literally.

“Mr Barnes dressing room is this way,” and just like that he was pulled away with Sharon going back to the set. You hovered next to Sam for a moment feeling ignored and out of place.

“What now?” You asked, trying to cover the wobble in your voice.

“We just watch I guess,” Sam shrugged but he was already tapping furiously on his phone and you stood feeling lost.

—————

In the video, Sharon was to be a ring girl, and Bucky was the boxer. Cliche but believable you guessed, you were sure a few of the notches on his belt came from the scantily clad women who paraded the ring between rounds.

Sharon looked stunning as she posed for the camera, singing and pouting and Bucky looked like he’d already went a few rounds with an opponent. His chest was gleaming, the oil making the black of his tattoos stand out, and his silk shorts matched Sharon’s dress. You had to admit they looked good together. The perfect celebrity couple.

They were having a lot of fun, laughing between takes and sharing smouldering looks when the camera was on them. They shared flirty touches and suggestive smirks.

The video ended with him grabbing her and pulling her into a fiery and passionate kiss. Watching from the sidelines your chest burned, and you could barely look at them together. Everyone around you was discussing their chemistry and how they expected them to be a couple within weeks, how good it would be for the sales of the single, the new album and the upcoming tour.

“He could join her for part of it, come out on stage for this song, be part of the routine,” one of Sharon’s assistants was saying to Sam.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Sam held his hands up but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. He looked at you with a frustrated roll of the eyes and you shrugged sympathetically.

“It’s a wrap!” Someone shouted and you watched Bucky get out of the ring then easily lift Sharon down. He held her hand, pulling her behind him excitedly as they walked over to where you stood clearly eager to introduce you but all you wanted to do was run away and hide. This was turning out to be the worst day of your life.

Bucky introduced Sharon to Sam but she barely looked his way, her eyes on Bucky. And then he pulled her towards you with a pleased grin on his face. “And this is my best friend.”

You heard your name fall from his lips but your ears were too busy ringing with the words “best friend”. Your heart fractured on the spot, you swore you were bleeding out, the damage irreparable. You were his best friend. Nothing more. That was it.

Sharon was looking your way now, her eyes roaming your body critically. You tried to act casual in your favourite faded jeans and scruffy Converse, “You must be a good friend to stand idly by all day doing nothing while Bucky works.”

“She’s the best,” Bucky grinned reaching out to pull you into a side hug, but you flinched away, and his eyes flickered in concern. “Are you ok?” He mouthed and you nodded in response. Luckily he seemed content to drop it.

“I’m going to go change, you’re coming to the party right?” Sharon said to Bucky with a coy smile as she rested her hand on his chest.

“Wouldn’t miss it, you’ll come too won’t you,” Bucky looked at you. You just nodded, not trusting your voice. He had told you to bring along a party dress earlier as you left your place.

“It’ll probably be more standing around for her,” Sharon said pointedly to Bucky.

“Sugarplum is a big fan of yours,” Bucky added. You could hear the fondness in his voice and you wished it meant more.

“Awww that’s cute, explains why you stood around all day waiting for a friend,” she simpered at you. Her smile was forced.

You just nodded in agreement but you liked this woman less and less. In fact you were beginning to hate her.

“Make sure to buy my album, and my single,” she said walking away with a sway to her hips. “I need to pay the bills somehow.”

Her belittling tone reddened your cheeks but Bucky was laughing. You glanced up at him but his face was unreadable as he watched Sharon go. You followed his gaze and couldn’t help but notice how good Sharon looked from behind. Of course he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“It has been a long day for you, let’s get changed and we’ll head to the party yeah?” Bucky’s brilliant blues were back on you. “Have some fun.”

“Sounds good,” you huffed out. He winked and walked off in the direction of the dressing rooms.

—————

The party was in full swing and you were sipping a glass of champagne when Sharon turned up almost two hours late and looking stunning.

You looked down at your dress, a favourite of yours. Bucky had always admired it, teased it went with the carpet in his bedroom. Bucky’s arm was around your waist, his fingers teasing little patterns on your hip as you chatted. You’d almost forgotten your day but with Sharon’s appearance it had all come crashing down.

Sharon made a beeline for Bucky, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from you.

“You don’t mind if I dance with your friend do you?” She called over her shoulder. You shook your head, you had already lost him and you knew it. There was no point in fighting it.

Bucky followed her like a lamb and you drained your glass and turned away from the sight. This would be the last time you were a third wheel or a bit on the side for him.

You loved Bucky you truly did, but you could no longer take the heartbreak. You needed a clean split, you decided or you’d go insane watching him and Sharon together. The best thing you could do now was slip away and let them get to know each other.

At the door you paused and looked back, finding Bucky easily. His eyes were locked on Sharon’s face as they stood at the edge of the dance floor and you turned, leaving the party.

“Heading off?” A voice startled you and you looked up to find Steve, Bucky’s best friend.

“You know what they say, threes a crowd and all that,” you shrugged.

Steve glanced towards Bucky and you saw a small tick in his jaw. He went to step into the party but you placed a hand on his chest. “Can you take me home. I rode with Bucky and I hate taking Ubers alone.”

Still protecting Bucky, his feelings and his reputation even when he’d forgotten about you. You were a fool and you needed to grow up.

By the time you got home you had a plan, and despite how drained you felt you started gathering all the bits and pieces of Bucky that had infiltrated your home.

His spare clothes from your drawers, wash products from the bathroom and books and trinkets that were in the living room all went into a bag. He had protein powders in the kitchen and a leather jacket hung on your coat rack with a pair of boots and trainers below.

It took an hour and afterwards you felt empty. Your home had gaps, you could already see them, but you didn’t have the heart to care so you changed, got into bed hugged your favourite plushie to your chest and pulled your duvet over your head.

—————

Sharon was an asshole, and Bucky regretted introducing you to her.

“I think you’re passing up a great publicity opportunity,” Sharon said. “You’ll not be a boxer forever and besides, it’ll only be short term. A year we’ll be together.”

Bucky examined her, this confident woman who was used to getting what she wanted. “You want us to fake date for a year?” He asked.

Instead of dancing Bucky had pulled her aside to talk, to say thanks but no thanks. Sharon was counter offering his rejection as if this were open for debate.

“No silly we’ll date. We can go on holiday and make public appearances, we’ll be a real couple,” she said slapping his chest. “Have real sex.”

“I don’t think that’s something I want to do,” Bucky said as he removed her hand.

“Think of your future. Your career. I’m about to be in a movie Bucky, I can get you a part and you won’t have to worry about your income drying up when you retire,” Sharon said. “You were a natural in my video.”

“Look, I’m flattered and you’re hot but I don’t feel that way. I love her,” Bucky said. He longed to go back to you, take you home. He was going to tell you tonight.

“Oh please, if you officially date her the press will tear her to shreds. Face it Bucky, she’s punching well above her weight when it comes to you,” Sharon looked into his eyes, searching his face.

“You know, I think she’s stunning. The girl you saw today was the woman I love, she‘s good and kind and I’ve not always been careful of her feelings but listening to you just know I know one thing for certain. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend my life with,” Bucky turned but Sharon’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“If she’s such a good friend, then why haven’t you noticed she’s been gone since I arrived? Went off with some tall blond beefcake,” Sharon’s smile was smug.

Bucky frowned. “Beard, long hair, blue eyes?”

Sharon nodded.

“Yeah that’s Sam’s husband Steve,” Bucky said as he headed to where Sam stood talking to a group of girls. “I’m going home Pal.”

“Smartest choice you made since hiring me,” Sam said.

—————

You found sleep impossible but the tears came easy. You laid with the pillow Bucky used last night in your arms and wept bitterly.

You didn’t hear your front door or footsteps coming up your stairs, but the bedroom door squeaked softly as it eased open.

You sat up startled and ready to scream for help and then you recognised the hair and beefy shoulders.

It was Bucky.

“I can’t right now Buck,” you said as you laid down.

“You kicking me out Sugarplum?” Bucky rasped.

Your heart clenched. “I can’t keep doing this,” you admitted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise,” Bucky said as he stepped into the room. You noticed he’d taken his shoes off.

You smiled sadly. “I guess I was just happy I was getting something, but it’s not enough anymore.”

“I get it,” Bucky said sitting on the edge of the bed. “I realised something else though.”

“Do I want to know?” You whispered, feeling brave. You peered up at him, from this angle he looked tired and you wanted nothing more than to pull him in bedside you.

“I want you to know. Sharon asked me to be her boyfriend, told me her plans for the rest of the year for she and I.”

“Oh,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to know any more and you shifted away but Bucky reached for you.

“She assumed I wouldn’t say no, just like I assume you’ll be there every time I need you,” Bucky’s hand cupped your cheek, his eyes searched yours. “I need you all the damn time Doll.”

“I can’t-“

“I love you, been in love with you since forever, but our lives are so different that I thought you wouldn’t want to be in mine full time,” Bucky searched your face but you were too shocked to respond. “I know I’ll never be good enough but I want a chance to do my best to make you happy.”

“Not good enough?” You sat up. “What in hell gave you that idea?”

He shook his head and it was your turn to cup his cheek. He shook his head again, turning his face into your hand to kiss your wrist and you tabled it for now but you would press this later. You’d never meant to hurt him, you loved him from the moment you met him. “Tell me what you want?”

“I want you on press tours and at training camps and Christ even at shitty promotional activities like music videos for spoiled singers with no manners or respect for their fans.”

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Marry me,” Bucky said. “Be my wife.”

“Bucky!” You gaped. Bucky took your hands. “We haven’t even- we can’t- I don’t- how?”

“We’ve been doing this dance for years now, pulling away from each other then tumbling back together. When I’m with you it feels right. You treat me good, so damn good and I haven’t always done right by you. That’s going to change.”

You launched yourself into his arms and he laughed as he caught you pressing kissed to your face.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Bucky grinned and rolled you onto your back, his lips attaching to your neck.

“But…” you sighed.

“But? But what? No but’s Baby!”

“But I think we should abstain from sex, until we’re married,” you teased. It started as a joke but the look on Bucky’s face had you giggling internally. “We have a lot of talking to do, years worth to catch up on.”

“You’re right. Let’s talk.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes angst #boxer!bucky #bucky x female reader

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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months

Text

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt 6

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control, humiliation, omarashi

Summary: Steve is called to help out with Bucky, who is throwing a bit of a tantrum over the embarrassing bathroom protocol.

(Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Masterlist)

Part 6 - An Egregiously-Long Bathroom Break

Bucky tenses when Headmaster Rogers’ imposing form rounds the corner into the bathroom. The alpha looks vaguely amused as he walks over to the stall where Sharon’s been holding Bucky hostage. “ ‘Morning, Ms. Carter,” he says. “I’ll handle this from here.”

“Great.” Sharon sounds bored of the whole affair, and she isn’t looking at Bucky to catch the dirty look he sends her. She’s got her phone out. She’s scrolling. Bucky scowls. “I’ll wait in the hall?” Sharon asks.

“No.” Steve’s eyes stay glued to Bucky. “Why don’t you return to Mr. Barnes’ French class. That way you can help him catch up on whatever part of the lesson he’ll have missed from taking such an egregiously long bathroom break.”

“Sure thing.” She glances briefly to Bucky on her way out, making a dubious ‘good luck with that’ face.

Bucky huffs. Sharon leaving is somehow both a relief and a disappointment, because he’s glad to be rid of her, but now he’s left to square off with his new Headmaster. Alone. He tries to act unaffected, but that’s not exactly easy to do when he’s already cornered with a full bladder. Steve is standing several paces away from the stall, and Bucky eyes up the distance between the two of them, and then the distance between himself and the restroom entrance. He considers making a break for it, thinks: fuck it, why not? And gives it his best shot.

He’s fast, but he’s not that fast. Steve, the long-legged bastard, just glides to the side with his arms outstretched, blocking the already slim window Bucky had to get by him. He tuts mockingly. “Ah ah, don’t go running off, now. I thought you had to go to the bathroom.”

“I can hold it,” Bucky grits, feigning left and then jerking right, but Steve anticipates it and moves with him.

“Stop,” Steve says, a hint of sterness to his voice this time. “Bucky, this is already embarrassing for you. How much worse do you want to make it?” He tilts his head warningly. “It’s entirely up to you.”

Bucky grinds his teeth and takes a step back, and Steve steps in; once, twice, backing him right back into the same stall he just bolted out from. Steve gives him a look, and Bucky tries not to act cowed. He’s not stupid: he can tell he’s about to be in trouble,he just doesn’t know to what extent, yet. He stands tall and juts his chin out, making sure that nothing in his posture speaks to submission. “Hi Steve,” he says, impudent, enjoying the flash of annoyance he sees in the alpha’s eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Steve purrs. “You can feel free to call me Mr. Rogers, Headmaster, Alpha; even Steve, if I give you permission. But the next time I hear you addressing me like I’m your buddy, you’re taking a trip over my knee.”

Bucky’s pulse quickens at the threat, though he fights not to let it show. He continues to look down his nose as Steve (quite the feat, given that the man’s taller than him). “Sure, whatever,” he says. “Look, let’s get something straight: I’ll wear your stupid uniforms and follow all your antiquated rules, but I am not gonna sit here and take a piss while some chick watches. That’s fucked up.”

Steve raises an eyebrow and takes another step closer. Bucky takes an automatic step back, his calves bumping into the toilet bowl as Steve corners him. The alpha crosses his arms over his chest, his huge body filling up the doorway of the stall. “Well it sounds like we’re at an impasse, then,” he says.

Bucky gulps, regretting not having tried harder in his escape attempt. Now he’s trapped, and he starts to lose his composure as Steve stares him down and the urge to bear his neck (and pee) grows more intense. “Why does she have to watch?!” he finally breaks. “Huh? What’s the fucking point?!”

“Because, Mr. Barnes, it’s protocol.”

Bucky growls. “That’s dumb. You guys really get your rocks off like this?”

“It has nothing to do with us and everything to do with you,” Steve corrects him, his calm tone only serving to infuriate Bucky further.

“Sounds like a piss kink to me,” he sneers. “Sorry, Headmaster, but I’m not into watersports. Though if it’s important to you, golden showers can be negotiated for a fee. Me showering you, of course.” Steve looks thoroughly unimpressed, and Bucky purses his lips at having failed to get a reaction out of him. “I’m not sitting down so you can watch me pee.”

Steve sighs, the deep inhale lifting his shoulders and actually making them touch the stall dividers at either side. “It’s not about peeing, Sweetheart. Okay? It’s about surrender. You don’t need to fight me over this. This is how it is for all the students, it’s why there aren’t doors on the stalls. It’s meant to be a very basic exercise in submission.”

Bucky sneers. “Pissing in front of Sharon is an exercise in submission?”

“Yes. Using the bathroom in front of your Alpha after getting their permission to relieve yourself is submission. Not being allowed to hide any part of your body or its functions is submission. It’s about giving up that autonomy.” He meets Bucky’s gaze head on, brow quirked. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you how intimately bladder control is tied into dominance and submission—for omegas and alphas.”

“First of all, I’m not a girl,” Bucky growls. “And I’m not gonna squat over this toilet like one so that you can feel all superior or whatever.” He crosses his own arms, mirroring Steve’s dominant posture. “You must have a tragically small dick or something, huh? Is that why you’re so obsessed with this stuff? Just trying to prove what an Alpha you are?”

To Bucky’s dismay, Steve laughs. It’s just a short bark of a laugh, and he contains himself fairly quickly, but the smile that flashes over his face is genuine, and still striking enough to make Bucky’s stomach swoop. “Sure, Sweetie,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “If that’s what makes you feel better to imagine.” He takes a step forward, and with the toilet already directly behind Bucky’s legs, there’s nowhere left for him to go as Steve moves in and grabs him.

“Hey!”

“Hush up.” Steve unceremoniously hikes the dress up and shoves Bucky’s underwear down, and before Bucky can try to grab at his clothes to put them back in place, Steve is pushing on his shoulders to force him down, bare-assed and startled. “Sit.”

Bucky lands with a clack of the toilet seat and a surprised yelp. He watches with wide eyes as Steve crouches in front of him. “What are you doing?” he squeaks.

“Helping you.” Steve holds him down when he tries to get up from the toilet.

“Hey!”

“Shh. Don’t fight me, Bucky. You’re just going to exhaust yourself.”

Bucky thrashes, realizes the strength of Steve’s grip, then thrashes again. “Stoppit!”

“Calm down.”

“I’ll go, okay?” He huffs, trying to bargain even as he keeps pulling. “I said I’ll go! Just—ugh!—just let me up!” But Steve’s hands grip him solidly, and it’s distressing how strong he is, how useless Bucky’s struggles clearly are, even with the alpha kneeling down at his level with little to no leverage. Steve’s not even out of breath. “Let. me. up,” Bucky grits. “I’ll pee, if you just let me stand.” He jerks his shoulders again, trying to get free.

“Ah ah ah, Little one,” Steve tuts. “That’s not what’s happening. Good omegas urinate sitting down, okay?”

“No!” The more upset Bucky gets, the more obnoxious Steve’s unwavering composure becomes. “Let me go.”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ in an eerily similar way to Bucky’s dick of a stepfather, still calmly controlling him and catching his hands each time he tries to hit. “Use your words, baby.”

“I tried that, you prick. You’re not fucking listening.” He brings his fist up, but Steve catches it and pulls his hand back down like it’s nothing.

“Neither are you, Little one.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“This is very simple. You’re making it way harder than it has to be.” Steve gives his shoulders a stern squeeze. “You’re not getting out of this, Bucky. We’re going to stay right here until you use the toilet the way I’m telling you to.”

Bucky’s entire face is boiling hot, he’s so mad and embarrassed. “Lemme go!” he rages. “I don’t have to go anymore!”

“Oh, I think you do, Sweetheart.” The deep rumble of Steve’s voice sends Bucky’s belly fluttering (and that does not help with the urge to pee). He leans in closer, keeping an iron grip on Bucky’s shoulder and grabbing at his naked hip with his other hand. It slides under the bunched-up fabric of the dress, fingers digging into the soft give of Bucky’s waist as he comforts, “Shh sh sh, it’s okay. Calm down, Baby. This is happening, you need to accept that.”

Bucky’s growls devolve into pleading cries at the feeling of being held down, at being on the receiving end of all Steve’s forceful and steady refusal. “Nnn!” His thrashing gets him nowhere, except out of breath and hot-faced. Overwhelmed tears build up behind his eyes as he starts to realize that he can’t get away, and that Steve’s not going to stop until he’s dominated him into pissing himself. Just the thought of that sends Bucky’s belly fluttering. “Unh, noo,” he moans, jerking miserably. “No, no, lemme go. You can’t make me, you can’t …”

“Shhh. Yes I can, Honey. That’s the whole point. You have to learn to trust your Alpha.”

“You’re not, nngh, you’re not my Alpha,” he pants, squeezing his eyes shut as his bladder spasms hard. He hears Steve tut pityingly at him.

“Just relax. It’s gonna feel much better once you let go, okay? Come on now, Buck. Let me take care of you. You can do it.”

“Noo,” he whines, breathing harshly through his nose and looking down between his legs in a panic. His knees clench together as he tries so hard to hold it in, because with only a few words from Steve this has somehow become about so much more than taking a piss, and he can’t let go, he can’t …

But he has to go worse than ever, and Steve isn’t stopping!

He keeps rumbling low in his chest, telling Bucky to give in, to let go, to be good, and that: “you’re making this so much harder than it has to be, Sweetheart.”

It was already headed for disaster, but Bucky knows he’s done for, once the alpha slides his hand over his belly and starts applying steady pressure. “Oh!” He gasps as he feels his body give out for a split second, a tiny spurt of urine escaping despite all his efforts. He clenches down hard, straining, trying not to, but Steve tuts and rubs his belly harder, not letting him escape it.

“Come on, Gorgeous,” he encourages, humming in satisfaction when the endearment clearly makes Bucky piss a little again. “That’s it. Good. Good.” He chuckles softly, rubbing circles below Bucky’s belly button that make him want to explode. “You like being told you’re pretty, Buck?”

“Nnngh …”

“Shh. Come on now. You’re so close, aren'tcha? You just gotta let go, pretty baby. It’s so easy.”

“Nonono.” Bucky sobs and shakes his head, eyes clamping shut and knees squeezing tightly together. It hurts, it hurts! And Steve’s hands and his voice … they feel so … they make him wanna …

“You can do it, Bucky. I promise it’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” Steve presses his whole palm in hard against Bucky’s stomach, and Bucky yelps as his bladder spasms and finally gives way.

“Ah!” He loses control—completely. And once it starts there’s nothing he can do, his body locking down on it, desperate for the release. It’s the literal floodgates opening, and he can’t stop it, can’t even try to stop. All he can do is moan as it bowls over him. “Ohh!”

Steve’s hand slips down from his belly to press his cock down, holding it in place for him as Bucky pisses himself uncontrollably, gasping and mewling. “Shhh,” Steve soothes. “Good. Good girl.”

Steve’s words don’t hit quite as hard when Bucky’s this lost to the physical sensations of pissing himself. At first it’s almost painful in its intensity, the piss coming out hard and fast and his bladder cramping anyway because it’s still not fast enough. It takes a few seconds before that feeling wanes and the pleasure of it really hits him. Bucky sobs and goes limp from the sheer relief of not having to hold it anymore, of finally being able to stop fighting.

The stream coming out of him slows gradually, down to a trickle, and then to nothing, his body emptied of everything it has to give. Steve lets go of his cock and Bucky whimpers, instantly wanting that warm touch back between his legs, instantly wanting to hide. He falls forward and tries to hide his face against Steve’s shoulder as the alpha chuckles and comforts him. “You see? That’s all you had to do. Felt good, didn’t it?”

Bucky groans and shakes his head weakly. “No.”

Steve just chuckles and rubs his back. “You’re fine. Here, sit back. Let’s get you sorted.”

Bucky watches, wrung-out and flustered as Steve takes hold of his limp penis again, shakes it for him, then starts gently maneuvering his underwear back up his legs. “I can do it,” Bucky grunts, but he’s weak from what just happened and Steve is easily able to bat his hands away and do it for him.

“Hush,” he chides. “Let me take care of it. I know that was hard for you.”

Bucky sits there and watches the alpha fix his clothes, lets him dab a piece of toilet paper over his tear-stained cheeks, then stands up when he’s directed.

Steve smoothes his uniform back out. “All right. Feel better?” he asks kindly, not waiting for Bucky to give a real answer before he’s steering him out to the sinks to wash his hands.

Bucky uses soap under Steve’s direction, though he doesn’t really see why it’s necessary; he’s not the one who touched his dick. “... That was really dumb,” he mumbles to Steve, as the alpha guides him down the hallway towards his classroom.

“No, it wasn’t.” Steve gives him a fond scruff that feels better than it has any right to, given what just transpired between them. “You’re learning,” he says. “That takes time.”

“Learning what?”

Steve smiles gently at him and pats his shoulder. “How to trust someone else to take care of you.”

This story is an ongoing commission for an amazing supporter who wishes to remain anonymous. If you have a story that you'd like to see custom written, send me a message on Tumblr or reach out on my Kofi.

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This has been a fill for:

Event: @ultimatechrisbingo

Card: sarahowritesostucky

Square G4: Enemies w/ sexual tension

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Card: sarahyellow/sarah-writes-stucky

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sebastianstansqueen · 11 months

Text

Lost In The Shadows: Part Seven

A/N: Back with another update to this story. If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,503

Warnings: Angst, reader’s ex, Something go's good for the Reader and Bucky- sort of, if I forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open//

Tags: @cherryblossomsky- - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479 - @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi - @winterslove1917 - @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love -

Bucky woke up alone in the house, having slept on the couch the night before, as for today, would end in another fight or Bucky understanding more about Y/n, hopefully. He got somewhat ready for the day and ate, before setting out to scour the whole compound by the time her friend got there, and definitely before Y/n got back. He started with the office opening drawers and filing cabinets, looking through old business transactions made, even by Y/n’s grandfather, but nothing on anything she said last night, or about her.

He moved on to a completely different side of the compound that was used for storage, he did find a little mention of having to pay back an airline for a table but that didn’t raise any red flags. After trying to find anything about Y/n on his own and coming up with more of nothing, he realized this friend coming later might be his only chance to know Y/n.

Y/n had left long before James woke up, she passed him asleep on the couch, before leaving. She drove on her way to a meeting to get her day started, with work, but she knew eventually she did need to talk to James again and explain but that wasn’t probably going to be happening today. Y/n shook her head clear as she walked up to her father’s old club irritation in every step. “Mis. Carter.” Brock Rumlow’s lips pulled into a smirk.

“Mr. Rumlow.” She gave him a curt nod, before sliding into the booth across from the man. “So what is this meeting about?” She asked as she folded her hands on the table.

“I simply want to become a business partner. I've seen what you have done with your fathers empire, and now look at how far you’ve come since his death.” Brock was trying to sweet talk her and Y/n wasn’t having it she easily saw the facade.

“Rumlow I don’t need praise, I came here for a meeting. So if I decide to do business with you what am I promised in order to not kill you.” She said bluntly looking into his brown eyes, that began to fill with irritation, she had no clue what business he had and she wasn’t going to be sweet-talked into something she didn’t know about.

“I want to sell my drug on your territory.” Brock was bluntly as well now knowing his first tactic wasn’t working.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not that stupid, besides Rumlow I’ve already got my own dealers, I don’t need your help.” She stood leaving him, giving order to someone who was cleaning up from the night before to make sure he leaves.

She walked up to the doors of her headquarters, Andy waiting out front greeting her. “Give me a minute before coming up to my office.” She told him, before going in and taking the elevator up to the top floor, she walked to the end of the long hallway opening the frosted doors.

Y/n poured herself a drink, and then a few more, before Andy came up. “So it didn’t go well?” He asked, walking in.

“Believe me I can handle pricks like Rumlow without needing a drink.” Y/n leaned back into the chair relaxing slightly.

Andy nodded. “What’s the morning drinking about then?”

“James, we got into an argument last night.” She sighed out shaking her head. “He wants me to be open with him.”

“Okay. That’s understandable Y/n’s he’s your husband, you wanted him to marry you, you’ve got to be open, the two of you have been living together I’d assume that wouldn’t be hard.” Andy reasoned with her, he did understand where James was coming from in the situation, and Andy was possibly the closest person to Y/n that was still alive.

Wayne walked through the front doors of the house, Bucky’s brows furrowed when seeing him. “Wayne?” Bucky guessed getting up and going to shake his hand.

Wayne didn’t take his hand.“Uh yeah, you're the husband, Mr. Field?” He tilted his head looking at Bucky.

“No, that was her fir-er-second husband, I’m Bucky.” He introduced himself now.

Wayne’s face fell in his own confusion. “When did you two get married?” the blond asked.

“Two months give or take ago.” Bucky shrugged his guessing the time period.

Wayne nodded. “Huh, okay, I’m gonna go find a room for while I’m here I’ll be back.” He smiled making his way up the stairs.

Bucky, though, had a guard follow Wayne, not fully trusting the stranger, Wayne protested once up stairs when realizing someone was following but they went on deaf ears. This guy wasn’t at all what Bucky was thinking. He had long blond hair and sunken features, he didn’t know how Y/n would have ever known this guy.

When Y/n did come home that evening right before dinner, she didn’t arrive with the car that she had taken that morning and Bucky knew that from a little peek in the garage earlier, his brows furrowed, as Andy helped her out of the SUV, the door was pushed open and both of them walked in. “Oh my god Andy is this where I live?” She asked, looking at him with wide eyes, her voice was slightly slurred as she spoke in the background looking around.

Andy nodded. “Yeah it is.” He entertained her before turning to Bucky. “She’s been drinking all day, so I’m going to suggest she doesn't come in tomorrow, tell her I have it handled.” Andy stood in thought for a moment. “She’s probably going to drink more, and she will not listen to anybody when it comes to that so, I’m bidding you good luck.” He turned to leave but just as he turned the door knob, he stopped. “Give her more time, she may be twenty five but she’s been through hell. All I can say is give her more time.” Then Andy walked back out the front door.

Y/n was walking around in amazement, Bucky came up to help her if she needed. “Y/n, dinner is going to be ready soon. Do you want to eat?” He asked, this other than last night probably had to have been the most he’s said to her since the wedding.

Y/n began to eagerly nod. “Yeah, that would be nice.” He began to lead her to the dining room, when they got there all the food was already on the table, and Wayne was there. “Wayne?” She tilted her head in confusion. “You're dead, how are you here?”

“You weren’t much of a drinker last time we saw each other.” Wayne said like it was obvious, Bucky noted this.

“You weren’t as skinny.” Looking at him and talking seemed to have sobered her up just a tad. “What happened to you?” It came out less slurred unlike everything else she said before.

“You remember how we eloped.” He started, Y/n nodded giving him an annoyed look. “Well your dad apparently had plans to marry you to some really rich guy, and he said that he’d pay me every month until I die nine hundred thousand dollars, and you know that's a lot of money.”

“Your fucking shitting me right now right?” She asked with wide eyes.“Right, you're telling me my father gave you one percent of what I make, once a month until you die, and you're calling that a lot of money. You do see the fucking compound your standing in I’ve completely redone it and I could to it a million times, and I would still have more than fucking nine hundred thousand dollars!” She began to laugh, which melted into sobs, Bucky was just watching all of this not knowing what to do. She walked out of the room she came back in with a gun. She pointed it at his head with a slightly wavering hand because she still had alcohol in her system. “I’ll fucking kill you right now. Just because I loved you doesn't mean I’ll give you mercy.” Shook her head. “In fact killing you with a gun is mercy.” And then she pulled the trigger missing Wayne.

Bucky swiftly walked to her grabbing the gun. “Give it to me.” He said softly into her ear, her grip loosened. “I think you should get the fuck out, now, not packing your shit, just run and leave I don’t care if you can’t go back home or if you have no money, just get the fuck out now.” Wayne noded seconds later and soon after the front door slamming echoed out. Bucky turned to Y/n. “Let’s get you to bed.”

As she and Bucky bothe laid in bed preparing to go to sleep with another day of learning nothing Y/n turned to Bucky. “I do care.” She said it so softly to the point Bucky almost couldn’t hear.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #mob!bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x mob!reader #mechanic!bucky x reader

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marvelsfavoriteuncle · 2 months

Text

We never go out of style ✨ / Marvel Fanfic

Aka JJ & Peggy have a little chat over the phone in a hospital room

Timeline: From Age Of Ultron to Civil War

Warning: Old Lady Peggy Carter coming to swoon a few hearts ♥️ She is in her 60s-early 70s

@gcthvile - Elizabeth Stark mentioned ✨

Characters mentioned: Howard, Tony, Jarvis and etc

++—++—-

The hospital has not been a favorable place to be in. Even a nursing home wasn’t sure of the difference between both anymore. But either way they both brought back daring memories and darling one.

Like when Tony was born

Or Hank’s only kid was brought into the world

And for better or worse, seeing Miss Margaret Carter in and out of hospital for different occasions. Some were good like the birth of her children and others were odder cases like an injury or two.

Today, it was a hospital but other people like to called a nursing home.

The nursing home has been brighter more days than not, having new paint jobs done and welcoming decorations put up during special events. Especially a simple well designed holiday.

Plus it helped that the people working there were kind young folk like himself, aside from the adults in their 30s and 40s.

He made his way holding up a beauty of a bouquet filled with daisies and a small little teddy bear holding a heart. He knew it was cheesy but anything to put a smile on the lady he was going to see.

His lady.

The founder of the very organization he sweetly applied to help protect.

The women who drive him nuts and who he loves to annoy just to see her crack a smile.

Mrs. Margaret Carter. Peggy. His Peg.

He knocked on the door, opening it with a soft smile saying, “Where’s my favorite lady? I sorta owe her a date night.”

“Aww my knight in shining armor.” She chuckled in her bed, her curls loosen and smile lines more promptly found, “Your a sap darling.”

“I know but you love me for it.”

“Sadly I do.”

“Sadly?!”

That caused Peggy to laugh at his reaction, patting the bed to sit down next to her. And he happily followed suit, lazily wrap an arm around her, smiling.

“How you doing, doll?” He asked with a soft grin, “Hit anyone lately?”

She playfully slapped his chest and grins, “No. I’m an angel here, they treat me right. I got chicken and white rice today. Yesterday it was Ham.”

“Oh lucky girl you can treated like royalty. Can I stay with you? Technically I should be here with you.”

“No, you wouldn’t like it. You will get bored and impatient here, my darling. You’re time will come, I promised.”

“Nah babe, I kinda stopped looking to see what happened and how I can fix everything.”

“You know, our very own godson suggested you drive off a bridge and see what happened for science purposes once.”

“He’s trying to kill his old man with that scientific idea.”

The two of them laughed out loud at that. He handed her a glass of water, just in case she ended up with a coughing fit but he was lucky, she didn’t.

“How are your kids?” Jason asked with a smile.

“Oh Thomas is good, working on his degree and Lilly is working at the children’s hospital downtown today with her sister.” Peggy explained, “They called and talked for hours.”

“Aww.”

“I wish Tony called or visited me. I’ll pull him by the damn ear one of theses days, i don’t care if he’s grown!”

“Go ahead I ain’t stopping you! You’re his godmother.”

“…I miss this. I miss you, why do you come and see my more often? Like twice a month.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry, I will make it a habit to do so, I promise.”

“Good, because if it was the other way around..” She started but didn’t have to finish her sentence cause he knew.

“I know you would and I love you for it.”

“You Muppet…You know I was always fond of your sister.”

Over the years the older she got, Peggy developed this small habit to ending up randomly blurting out a comment which lead to a different perspective on things or a completely new conversation in general.

He never minded it. He loved it actually, since it showed her mind was still fired up with things to say and she would say her mind no matter what. Especially if it was a witty one hand comment or clever wording on a subject.

It was a good thing as well considering her Alzheimer’s made her forget things, faces and relive memories in her head. So seeing her ramble on a topic, made him smile, because it showed that she’s doing fine.

And due to him spending so much time around her and their friend group, he developed the odd but silly little habit too.

“Oh how so?” He questioned with a smile, surprised that she remembered Dottie that well but then again, she was a chancing point for the brunette.

“She had a special spunkiest to her that I adored.” She exclaimed, with a grin as if she’s looking into a memory, “Gorgeous, honestly a brilliant blonde and she was crazy about me.”

“Ohh really now?”

“Oh please as if you didn’t know. Dottie kept me on my toes and I would say there was a certain amount of chemistry there. She kissed me and it was unexpected but..I sorta liked it.”

He mocked gasped, “Margaret Carter! You shady lady. How long have you had theses thoughts about my sister?”

Peggy smirked, “She only ever asked to be interrogated by me and it made me feel impressed that she respected me.”

“You hated her!”

“But it was rather refreshing chance of cat and mouse between us!”

“She was obsessed with you.”

“And with good reason.”

“Margaret!”

“Hey! You like my friends. Angie was your favorite.”

“She’s was a peach, stubborn, playful and a little snappy. I liked it. But it’s my sister we’re taking about!”

“Oh hush! Let me have my fun memories.”

“Yes ma’am. Go ahead and keep those memories.”

~~~

That’s when Peggy went into another memory that was sweet but stung a little for Jason.

Elizabeth Stark.

Howard’s sister and a love in his life.

Yes, he loved Angie and then Violet for plenty of years. But with her, it was different. Cozy even.

The one that got away from him, that he never got a chance to see if those feeling could actually take full force due to respect he had for brother.

Yes, him and Elizabeth over the years have sneaked off to test out a few short lived dates but it didn’t last long. Even a couple of shared kisses underneath the mistletoe during Christmas were made.

But he always assumed she liked other people in the end and he respected her too much to string her along. So he let her do her own thing and he went along to do his own.

Even though he lived together, raised their nephew under the same roof and saved one another life a plenty of times. They never actually got together, where marriage could’ve been involved one day.

But he did have a promise ring in which he gave her the day before they lost her. She died with that diamond wrapped around her finger and he was left with the tiny box.

And here was Peggy talking about her, as if she was still alive in front of them. It made him smile brightly that her spirt lived on forever.

“You love her?” She asked, resting her head on a pillow watching him pace the room for another glass of water.

He handed her a glass and nodded, “Of course i do. We both love her.”

“It hurts she went down that day…”

“I know Peg, but she still lives on in spirt.”

“..would you have married her?”

“I..”

“Grey.”

She used the nicknamed on him. His middle name is Grey, which is one of many nicknames people refer to him as such but Peggy used it catch his attention at times and she prefer it a lot more.

“Grey.” She repeated with a soft smile, sipping her water.

“I think so.” He replied with a smile.

“Good. I want to be there as the maid of honor when it happens.”

“Maid of honor?”

“Well, I most definitely won’t be standing on your side of the alter, now would I?”

“You sounded so British right now, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment my darling.”

He grinned and shook his head, “You’re like the sister I never had.”

“You do have a sister.” She added with a grin.

“Did I stutter, Ms. Carter?”

“Oh. Well aren’t you cheeky today? I like it!”

“But I’m serious, you’re like a big sister to me.”

She smiled as she blushed, “Aw darling stop. No please go on, I didn’t think you thought of me that way. I assumed you did but never actually thought it would be confirmed.”

“Oh of course I have. Dottie never treated me like she should have, nor loved me a way a big sister should, leaving me in the dust to pick up the pieces but you didn’t.” He added with a smile.

“You know, after Micheal I never thought I would have anyone else.”

“Hmm.”

“But then you and Howard came along, I felt almost whole. You’re like the little brother, my mother never gave me because she thought two nutty children were enough!”

“Oh really?”

He couldn’t contain his laughter at her sudden choice of words at the end as she smiled laughing around, feeling sportful. She toss a pillow across his face to shut him up as she laughed smirking at the sight of spilled water all over his shirt.

~~~

Yup they were like siblings, despite never actually saying the word out loud before until now. They didn’t have to say they acted like brother and sister, they just did. Every fight, every save, every argument they had and even the small moments between the built a united bond between the pair. Each hug, hand hold and even looks they shared meant more than words combined.

They lost many people over the years, either by death or losing touch due to some kind of issue. They have faced a lot together, she couldn’t imagine a world without Jason in it. After the war, Peggy felt lost and undersign by others, reduced to a lousy sectary or told she wasn’t much less than Captain America’s little lady.

A part of her almost believed it for some time until Howard, Elizabeth and Jason stepped in. 3 of the only people who believed in her at the time.

Yes she knew the three of them for a while but it was Jason who was working at the SSR alongside her with Mr. Jarvis, who fought to keep her on payroll. Encouraging her to keep going, fighting in restaurants together, saving each other’s skin and just having another person to talk to. She didn’t know she needed that at the time. Hell, when Jarvis wasn’t around, he cleaned up her wounds.

But Peggy wouldn’t lie about the times she wanted to punch the blonde for doing something stupid or saying something he shouldn’t have admitted in the first place. She even slapped him a couple of times over the years with a glare.

He would tease her about something like a crush saying she blushed and she would raise an eyebrow yelling, ‘I beg your pardon! I did not do such a thing.’ Or when they would mock each other’s accents in annoyance of the other person.

She didn’t even realized she had a goofy little grin on her face until Jason pointed it out. She rolled her eyes and smiled replying, “I was thinking about all the times you mocked me.”

“I never mocked you. Okay, maybe? Or twice..” He admitted chuckling knowing the truth to that query.

“You would mock me behind my back and I’ll always walk in and catch you.”

“It’s because you always had to make a point or worse run into danger.”

He mocked her English accent stupidly as she gasped, “Good lord man! I don’t sound like that.”

“Oh really? ‘Mr. Jarvis was with me. We’re completely fine!’, ‘I was merely getting the job done.’ Oh and my all time favorite, ‘I made a horrible decision. When’s lunch?’.”

“I hate you. I don’t sound like that and I never treated Jarvis like that!”

“You once came home and Jarvis was hit in the back with a dart, that knocked him out cold.”

“He was fine!”

“He was hilariously asleep and thought he was hallucinating ponies for the rest of the afternoon.”

“To be fair, for being my right hand he wasn’t the best for escaping targets..”

“He said and I quote, ‘Oh mummy it's the biggest horsey ever!’”

That got a real laugh out of Peggy as she remembered it so clearly, Jarvis was laying down on the couch with his eyes closed after saying, ‘Jarvelous!’ Then he fell right on the thick ground outside of the house, afterward they brought him inside to see if he was aright. Which he wasn’t.

Jason and Daniel questioned the situation saying she should’ve called for backup as she told them, ‘I did have back up. Mr. Jarvis was with me!’

Cue in, Jarvis lazily laying down on the couch pointing his finger muttering ever so clearly, ‘Oh mummy, it’s the biggest horsey ever!’

Jason couldn’t help but snorted as he got flashbacks of the memories in his head. Him and Peggy also remember the time Jarvis knocked over a two time Oscar nominee, Whitney Frost, with one of Howard’s precious car.

Elizabeth was just in shock as Howard looked out the window and yelled, ‘Jarvis, you just hit a woman with my car!’

‘I know, sir’ Edwin Jarvis said with a simple tone.

‘She’s a two-time Oscar nominee.’

‘Miss Frost is quite resilient. She’s fine. Trust me.’

He laughed remembering the look that Elizabeth and Peggy shared conveying shock but with a mix of pride towards the accident. They were all almost sued for it though but then again the women caused them so many issues and she basically killed her husband. With was also deemed as Jarvis’ revenge on the same women who came to their home and shoot his wife—Ana Jarvis lived of course, with a few minor yet sad complications to her surgery—but still!

Everything was fine after that, she was put always for good for her insane behavior and things slowly went back to normal for a while.

Jason and Peggy spent the rest of the day together in her hospital room chatting, drinking gentle coffees and snacking on the fruits that were served to her room. On occasion, a call from friends or relatives would appear to be made, but it wasn’t immediately apparent what was being said over the phone.

The two of them even stayed in peaceful silence as they watched whatever was available on the tv screen.

All in all, it was nice.

They may be old enough and oddly fit for this position in the universe but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

Thank you for reading this! Pretty please let me know what you think 💭

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artyandink · 8 months

Text

we could be more | dean winchester | 3

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

BLOODLUST

NOW PLAYING: REVENGE - TANFEELZ

I walked down the stairs, and when he saw me, Dean choked on his morning coffee while Sam sipped it, amused.

“Morning, boys.” I smiled, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring one of my own, adding creamer.

“Morning.” Sam smirked.

“Is that what you’re wearing on the case?” Dean asked, putting his hand over his chest. I looked down at my outfit, wondering if I should start teasing him or not. I was wearing a black cropped tank top, high-waisted slim jeans and was wearing a baseball cap.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “What, can’t call me Beanie now?”

“I still will and you know it.”

“Course you will, but what about my outfit is distracting, Dean?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam chuckled.

“Nothing.” He coughed. “Let’s just get in the Impala as quickly as we can. I can’t wait to drive her again.”

We were now in the Impala, driving to Red Lodge cause we’d gotten another case. Dean was happily singing along to the music, while Sam and I watched him, amused.

“Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?” He whooped, grooving along to the music.

”If you two ever wanna get a room, let Sam and I know.” I quipped, making Sam laugh.

”Oh, don't listen to them, baby. They don’t understand us.” He cooed.

”You’re in a good mood.” Sam smirked.

”Why shouldn't I be?”

“No reason.”

”Got my car, got my case, things are looking up…”

”Wow, Dean, give you a couple of severed heads and mutilated cows and you’re Mr Sunshine.” I chuckled, making Sam cackle, and Dean laughed too, to my surprise.

”How far to Red Lodge?” He asked.

”300 miles.” Sam replied.

Dean’s eyes glanced back to where my bandage used to be, thinking. ”Beanie, are you good for me to-“

”Dean, I’m not fragile, just floor it.” I rolled my eyes, and he pressed the pedal to the metal, speeding up.

We walked up to the sheriff in his office, who admittedly had an impressive moustache.

“Hello sir, we’re with World Weekly News.” I introduced. “My name’s Lily Carter, and these are my partners Fred Logan,” I pointed at Sam, “and Jensen Barnes.” I gestured to Dean. “Is it alright if we ask a few questions?” I asked, and Dean and Sam looked at me in masked surprise, wondering how I lied so naturally.

“The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time.” He replied coldly.

“Sure, sure, we understand that,” Sam nodded, “but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?”

“Mhmm.”

“And the other, a, uh, Christina Flanagan.”

“That was two days ago. Is there-“ A lady knocked at the door, pointing at her watch. The sheriff turned back to us, frowning. “Alright, you three, time’s up.”

“One last question-“

“Yeah, what about the cattle?” Dean interrupted, stopping the sheriff.

“Excuse me?” He asked, eye twitching.

“You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained... over a dozen cases.”

“What about them?”

“Is there no connection at all, Sherriff?” I persisted, writing down my notes in a notebook.

“Connection… with..?”

”First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritual stuff.” Sam insinuated casually.

“Satanic ritual stuff.” Dean added.

“You’re not kidding…” The sheriff trailed off.

”No.”

”Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?”

“How?” I asked.

“Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty eight hours the bloat'll split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you work for?”

“Weekly World News.” Dean said confidently.

“World Weekly News.” Sam corrected.

“Weekly World-“

”World Weekly-“

”Weekly-“

”World-“

“World Weekly News.” I finished, closing my notebook. “They’re new. We’ll be leaving you to it, officer.” I walked out, prompting the two to follow after.

“How are you so good at lying?” Sam asked.

“You get good once you become a freak of nature.” I replied. “Hide your name or people will be after your blood and secrets.”

“What next?” Dean asked.

“Examine the bodies. I’ve got a couple of doctor’s coats in the car.”

“You touched my baby without telling me?”

“I cleaned the fingerprints off, Dean, you’re fine.”

We walked over to the front desk of the morgue wearing our doctor’s coats. There was an intern at the desk, and when we walked up to the desk, Dean took a look at the tag, which read ‘J. Manners’.

“John.” Dean guessed.

“Jeff.” Jeff grimaced.

“Jeff.” He repeated. “I know that. Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr Dworkin’s on vacation.”

“But he’s back and he’s screaming for you right now, so if I were you, I would…” Dean whistled, and Jeff ran away.

“Real smooth, Dean.” I sighed, taking a lock-picking tool and opening the door, letting us into the room with the heads.

“Yeah, I know. Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?“

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead.” Sam confirmed.

“Yeah. So much f'd up stuff happens in Florida.” We got three pairs of latex gloves and put them on, wheeling out a tray of a corpse with a box between it’s legs. “All right, open it.”

“No, you open it.”

“No, you-“

”You-“

“Both of you are wusses.” I rolled my eyes, carrying the box to a table and opening it. They both approached, wincing at the sight of the decapitated girl’s head. “So, decapitated head, which is nasty, but the forehead is clean.”

“Wow. Poor girl.” Sam tutted.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat.” Dean suggested. “You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead.”

“You thought of it.”

“‘Put the lotion in the basket.’” Not a quote from Silence of the Lambs.

“Again, you’re wusses.” I searched in the mouth, checking the teeth and airways.

”Beanie, do you need me to catch you if you-“

”I’m not going to faint, Dean, but you might.”

“Just checking.”

”Dean, get me a bucket.” Sam asked from behind me.

“Did she find something?”

“No, I’m gonna puke.”

“Hey, guys.” I beckoned them over and lifted up the lip again, and both of them retched. “Oh, grow up. Look at the gum. This hole here?” I pressed a hole in the gum, and two pointed teeth sprang out.

“It's a tooth.”

“Sam, that’s a fang.” Dean corrected. “Retractable set of vampire fangs. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Well, that changes things.” Sam grinned.

“Ya think?”

We entered a bar, where there was a man smoking at the counter. We were moving to sit down when Dean pulled out my chair for me and tucked it in when I moved to sat down. Sam and I gave him a weird look, but let it go.

“How's it going?” Dean nodded, sitting down.

“Living the dream.” The bartender replied coolly. “What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

“So, we're looking for some people.” Sam started nervously.

“Sure. Hard to be lonely.”

“Yeah. But um, that's not what I meant.” He dropped a 50 dollar bill on the table, and the bartender took it. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink...”

“Sleep all day, party all night, kind of thing.” I added.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.” The bartender informed, cleaning a glass.

“Right, thanks.” We got up, leaving our half-finished beers on the table. The man who was at the bar was gone, but his cigarette was left. We walked out, and I took my gun out of my pocket, holding it inconspicuously.

“Do you also see the guy behind us?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, we do.” Dean hissed. “Let’s lose him then question him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I whispered, and we quickly went to the right, and heard the footsteps behind us stop.

“Beanie, stay back, cause if this guy’s a vamp, he’s dangerous.”

“The hell I will. Why are you being so protective?”

“He’s here.” Sam muttered.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Dean grumbled before he sprang out, taking out a knife and throwing the guy against a wall, holding the blade to his neck. “Smile.”

“What?”

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of -- you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire.” He looked at Sam’s stunned face and nodded the best he could. “Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.”

“What do you know about vampires?” Sam interrogated.

“How to kill ‘em. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.“ He started to pull away, but Sam reached in and pinned him harder to the wall. “Easy there, Chachi. We’re trying to keep me conscious here, aren’t we-“ I pulled Dean’s hand away from the guy’s neck and hook punched him, making him groan.

“You’re not in charge here, we are.” I growled, cocking my gun and holding it up. “So you better give us something before you find this at your temple.”

“Alright, alright!” He pulled up his lip, showing us his gum. “No fangs, happy? Gorgeous form, by the way.” Sam let him go, all of us relaxing.

“Damn, Ivy.” Sam breathed.

“Damn it is.” Dean chuckled.

“I like her.” The man chuckled, gesturing to me. “She one o’ your girlfriends, or somethin’?”

“They’d be honoured if I was.” I smirked.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ivonne Rainer.”

He looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. “Rainer? You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

“Mick Rainer?” Dean repeated.

“Yeah, I’m his daughter.” I breathed. “What of it?”

“I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “I’m Gordon. Come with me.” We started walking to the car park. “And you boys?”

“Sam Winchester.” Sam introduced. “And, uh, my brother Dean.”

“I’ll be damned again. John Winchester’s boys? It’s like I’ve hit a jackpot.” We reached his car, and he opened it, revealing an arsenal of weapons. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot. Then there’s Michael Rainer.” He turned to me, whistling. “I ain’t ever met a man who can wrangle a spirit, demon, ‘geist, you name it- faster than he can. Shame he passed away as well.”

“Your dad’s dead?” Sam asked me, looking concerned.

“Again, story for another time.” I groaned, folding my arms.

“You seem to know a lot about our families.” Dean frowned.

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.”

“I don’t think they do.” I scoffed.

“There’s a lot your dads didn’t tell you, then.”

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam asked.

“Yep, been here two weeks.” I looked at his arsenal until I saw the hook, which had bloodstains on it. They were fresh. I looked back at Gordon, biting my lip.

“You ok?” Dean whispered in my ear. “Anything hurting?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I snapped back.

“Just checkin’, Beanie.” He turned back to Gordon. “Did you check out that Barker farm?”

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” Gordon shook his head.

“Where's the nest, then?”

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We can help.”

”Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

“Come on, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” Gordon got in his car, looking out. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off, leaving us to stew in the events. I slipped the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pocket, storming over to the car.

“Bea- Ivonne!” Dean called, walking behind me. “What the hell?!”

Sam’s footsteps joined Dean’s. ”Dean, let me handle this-“

“No!”

I got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Dean and Sam got in, Dean in the seat beside me. I groaned in frustration, thankful that I didn’t have my powers. “Stupid Gordon revealing stupid everything-“

”Revealing what- Ivonne, talk to me! What the hell’s going on-“

”Dean!” Sam silenced Dean, leaning forward. “Can we talk about this once we’ve actually gotten a place to stay? Cause I personally don’t wanna die in a car crash and the last thing I hear is you two yelling it out!”

Dean sat back in his seat, groaning. “Fine.”

I didn’t say anything, I just started driving.

When we got a motel, the first thing Dean did was round on me.

“Is that the person who died, Ivonne?” He interrogated. “Cause you seem a whole lot angrier since Gordon mentioned Mick Rainer’s death.”

”What happened to my dad is none of your business-“

“A lot of things about you is none of our business!” Dean burst out. “Hell, the most I know about you is your name and what kind of coffee you like! You said your dad wasn’t around a lot and now both Sam and I know why, but you’re not telling us anything!”

“What about you, Dean, huh?” I countered, stepping forward and sizing him up. I was shorter, but oh well. “You’re not tellin’ me a lotta things either. You’re acting like I’m gonna collapse and die any minute, asking me if I’m doin’ ok, pullin’ out my chair, so what’s the deal about that, eh?” Dean seemed at a loss for words.

“We get that the subject is sensitive, but our dad died too.” Sam calmly explained. “We’d know how you feel.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“It’s hard to believe, but we do, and we want to help. We’re here to protect you. Tell us what happened.”

I stayed silent.

“Then we’ll wait.” Sam assured, then hugged me. Dean stood there awkwardly, looking guilty. But not for this, I don’t think. When we stepped back, Sam smiled. “I’m gonna go get us some dinner.” He left, and Dean went into the bathroom. I opened my satchel, taking out some spare pyjamas and changing into them, laying joggers out for the boys. I changed into shorts, but the moment I pulled my top over my head, Dean walked in. He looked me up and down for a moment, at a loss for words again.

“Damn.” He coughed, then seemed to realise. “Not damn, bad Dean-”

”You’re good.” I smiled briefly, pulling my pyjama top on. “We’re gonna be in this kind of situation a lot. I, uh, packed some joggers for you.”

”Thanks.” He picked them up, looked at them, paused, then put them down. “Look, Ivonne, I’m sorry.”

”For what?” I chuckled. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about me.”

”But what happened to your dad is your business. I’m not gonna pry, just tell me when you’re ready.”

”I can work with that.”

“And about the protecting you and all that jazz, it’s cause I blame myself for that knife in you.” I immediately turned to him, folding my arms.

“Hey, no, it wasn’t.”

”It’s just… it was my job to locate that guy and if I’d done it a little faster, your life wouldn’t be on the line.”

”You’d only find me dead with a knife in my jugular.”

”That’s specific.” He joked until he quietened down. “That’s how your dad died.”

”Close.” I smiled.

“And you’re attached to the name Lily Carter too.” He deduced. “She close?”

”They.” I paused, sitting on my bed. “Lily and Carter Rainer. My brother and sister.” Dean sat beside me, clasping his hands. Sam walked back in, and, sensing the situation, pulled up a chair. “I think I should tell you what happened. You guys told me the deal with your mom, so it’s fair play.”

”When you’re ready.” Sam nodded.

“I was meant to be the eldest sibling of five. It was me, then Carter, fifteen, then Quinn, Carter’s twin, then Lily, thirteen, then my mom’s unborn child, just 18 weeks in. I was 19. Quinn had been diagnosed with cancer just before mom got pregnant, and died soon after. It broke everyone, and even the gender reveal of my baby brother didn’t cheer anyone up. It was like we were soulless, and I didn’t talk to anyone for a long time, especially not Carter, who started acting up.” I paused, breathing out shakily.

“You need to cut that attitude, young man.” I growled, facing Carter. “Quinn and dad are both dead, I know-“

”You don’t know!” He shouted.

”The hell I do! I’m trying my hardest to-“

”That’s where you’re wrong, Ivonne, cause you’re not trying at all.” Carter seethed. “Lily was taken out of school cause she kept crying and where are you during the day when I get into a fight?”

”Taking care of our mother.” I frowned. “Y’know, cause she’s pregnant with our brother and dad isn’t even alive to help so that means that I have to step in. Heck, he wasn’t even here in the first place. Just… go to your room!” I pointed to his room, and he stalked off, giving me a nasty look.

“Take your time.” Dean murmured.

”Nah, I need to… I need to get this out.” I gulped, trying to stop my voice from breaking. “If I don’t, I’ll explode. One day, we get the news that dad was found dead, but his heart was carved out of his body, almost so perfectly it was surgical. I completely bricked out Carter by then, cause I thought he didn’t need me and I had my own problems. Seems like a dreamwalking demon found his emotions good enough to feed on. In the night, I hear a scream, and then silence.” Tears started to fill my eyes as my voice broke. “I run to investigate and I find Lily dead with a knife stuck right through her jugular.”

I was reading a book, flipping the pages absent-mindedly. I frowned, looking at the introduction of the main character’s younger brother-

“IVY!” I heard Lily scream. “IVY, HE-“

Silence.

“Lily!” I called, leaping out of bed and rushing up the stairs. “LILY!” I burst into her room and almost collapsed, and she was lying in her bed, eyes open and a terrorised face.

But there was a knife stuck straight through her throat.

“Lily!” I cried, running over. “Lily…” I felt tears run down my face as I kissed her forehead, smoothing back her hair. I cradled her, sobbing as I tried to ignore the gaping hole that had appeared in me where Lily once was. “I’m so sorry, Lil. I’m so sorry…”

“God.” Dean breathed.

”Then I hear mom scream, then silence. I go up to her bedroom and there she is, a knife through her jugular and another in her belly, where my unborn brother was. We were going to name him Nathan. He wasn’t even alive yet and he was murdered…” I wiped a tear that went down my face. “Carter was there, smirking as if he did me a favour. Then another knife appeared in his hand, and he was about to do the same to me when he stopped and he…” I let out a loud sob, burying my face into my hands. Sam instantly moved to side hug me, while Dean gripped my hand. “He stabbed the knife… straight through his own throat. He was dead before he hit the ground. He wasn’t even awake in the first place.”

I’d barely finished mourning over Lily when a second scream pierced the house, which was my mom’s.

”PLEASE, SPARE ME! IVY, HELP ME-“

Silence.

I left Lily reluctantly, sprinting up the stairs two at a time to try and get there before the killer left. “MOM!” I kicked down her door, and I screamed at the sight. Blood stained her sheets, and there were two knives in her, one in her jugular and the other in her belly, where my now dead unborn brother is. I looked at the perpetrator and almost screamed.

It was Carter.

He was standing there, eyes glazed but a wicked grin on his face as he held another knife, preparing to throw it at me. However, in the nick of time, I felt my hand close around something. I didn’t even think about how I could use whatever was given to me, I just raised it, my finger pulled something and two loud bangs emitted from it, two holes appearing in my brother’s chest, and just after a black smoke flew up and out of the window. I stared at what was given to me with shaking hands, gasping in horror. It was a gun.

I’d shot my brother.

I ran over to Carter, taking the nape of his neck in my hand as I looked into his eyes. They were still glazed, as if he was sleeping.

He was sleeping.

“A dreawalker got to you, Carter.” I whispered, my quiet sobs turning to racking ones. I checked the gun wounds, which were black and like a crater, almost. The gun was still in my hand as the front door was knocked down, policemen filing in.

”After that, I completely broke down. My family was gone and murdered. So I got out of the police case innocent, fled Jersey and I’ve been moving ever since.”

“That…” Sam paused. “I don’t even know what to say.”

”My mom made my middle name Hazel cause it’s what she originally wanted to name me.” I whispered. “Her death, little Nate’s death, haunts me everyday. Even dad’s. I tried to buffer it by making the excuse that dad wasn’t there for anything and that mom cheated on him when she got the chance to, but it still hurts like hell. I can’t help but think if the dreamwalker will come back to finish the job with me.”

“Daniel Elkins?” I called out, venturing in. An old man turned around, frowning.

“Who’s askin’?” He rumbled, standing up.

”Ivonne Rainer, Michael Rainer’s daughter.”

”You’re Mick Rainer’s girl?”

”That’s right.” He took a look at my face, nodding.

”You look just like him. Got a little bit of Audrey too.”

”I’ve been told.”

“I’m sorry for your losses.”

”Thank you.” I nodded, then held out the gun. “I developed a sorceress’s powers the night I got this gun, my powers gave it to me, but it’s not an ordinary one. I talked to hunters who knew my dad and they pointed me to you.” I gave him the gun, which he examined.

”Your powers are a blessin’, girl.” He said gruffly. “This is called the Colt. Can kill anyone an’ anything and all you have to do is pull the trigger and have good aim.”

“Can you handle it?”

”Course I can. Who d’you shoot with this?”

”My brother, just after a dreamwalker left his body.”

He clapped my shoulder, looking solemn. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

”Ivonne, I am so sorry.” Dean pulled me into a hug, kissing my head. “I don’t have words either. But what happened isn’t your fault.”

“And we won’t let that dreamwalker hurt you.” Sam assured.

”We’ll kill it before it does.”

I felt kind of grateful for having Dean and Sam with me, but I also felt guilty.

”Do you need one of us to stay with you tonight?” Sam asked softly.

”Most likely.” I smiled awkwardly, then Dean raised his hand.

“I’ll do it. Sammy’s gonna take up the bed, him and his giant DNA.” Dean volunteered, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He turned to me. “Whatcha thinking about?”

”I wanna track this Gordon guy.” I told them. “If he’s hunting vampires, he’s gonna do it tomorrow night and one may kill him. We don’t need another dead hunter.”

“She’s right.” Sam nodded. “We can track him down in the morning.”

”In the meantime, I packed joggers for you guys.” I gestured to the joggers. “I figured that we’d need a change of clothes if we happened to stay the night anywhere.”

“So that’s where that pair went.” Sam chuckled. “Nice one.”

“Now we don’t have to sleep in jeans.” Dean grinned, picking his up.

Dean emerged from the bathroom with just his joggers on, making Sam groan.

“Dean, it’s not you and I anymore.” He sighed.

“You’re acting like I haven’t seen a guy shirtless.” I smirked, making them double take. “Yeah. I have flings too.”

“Is Alex Wilde one of them, Beanie?” Dean smirked.

“No.”

“Well, there’s always time for it.”

“Ivy, are you comfortable with it?” Sam asked.

“Course. I practically raised Carter, so I can handle you both.

“That’s settled, then.” Dean grinned, shoving himself under the blanket. I quickly did my hair into a rope braid, and Dean’s eyes seemed to be… somewhere… on me.

“Dean…?” I raised an eyebrow, turning.

“Yeah, Beanie?”

“What are you staring at?”

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam smirked.

”I-I was staring at your necklace.” Dean stammered. “Wasn’t there before.”

“Ellen gave it. It was my mom’s.” I grinned, ruffling his hair. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered.” I got into bed, laying down next to Dean, both of us facing the ceiling. Sam turned off the light and laid down, falling asleep soon after. I heard a shift next to me.

“Beanie?” He muttered.

“Yeah?” I softly replied, turning my head to face his.

“What was Carter like?”

“He was like Sam, really. Smart, loyal, brave. Stubborn as hell. There’s not anything I wouldn’t have done for him. But he became a wreck after Quinn died, and it was so hard to recognise him. I guess that’s why I went so hard on him. I think I was trying to restore him in the worst way possible when I couldn’t deal myself.”

”I get that.” He whispered. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Sammy.”

”I can tell.” I smiled. “Even though you two fight like raccoons sometimes, you protect him. I just wished that I could have had the same thing with Carter.”

“You did what you had to do.” He assured. “Poor kid could’ve suffered worse had he woken up and been arrested for the murder of his family.”

”I suppose.” I shrugged. “Then again, I would’ve put my prints on the knives and said that I did it.” We stayed silent, just staring at the ceiling.

I shivered; it was cold. And, as if he had a radar, Dean sat up on his elbow, looking over. “You’re cold.”

“Excellent spot, Dean.”

“Sammy once said that staying close can preserve body heat.”

“Dean Winchester, are you trying to hit on me?”

“No, no! I do not. It’s that… I’m really warm, and I don’t want you to be cold cause then you’ll be uncomfortable-“

”I get it.” I grinned. “Sure.”

“Alright, uh…” He chuckled. “How are we gonna do this?” I scooted up to him, laying my head in the crook of his neck while my hand rested on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arms.

“You weren’t kidding.” I laughed. “This is like a radiator.”

“And you weren’t kidding about being cold.” He kissed my hair, sighing afterwards. “It’s only been a few, Beanie, and it doesn’t always seem like it, but I care about you. You take care of Sammy when I can’t. Heck, you’ve even saved my life-“

”Don’t say it.” I whispered, looking up. “Cause I know.”

I opened my eyes, yawning softly. Dean’s eyes were shut and Sam was cocooned in his blanket, so I pried myself out of Dean’s arms and quickly changed into a Led Zeppelin band shirt and jeans, pulling a black beanie over my head. Carter’s beanie. I got out a map, sat at the table and started triangulating the two murders and finding out the third location.

”Thanks, dad.” I whispered as I circled the third. I left a note for Sam and Dean, walking out and coincidentally running into Gordon.

“Morning, Ivonne.” He nodded.

“Gordon.” I replied with a small smile. “I thought I was the only early bird today.”

”I like to get a head start.” He grinned, and I felt unsettled a bit.

“Understandable.”

”Hey, uh, the gun you pointed at me, was that your dad’s gun?”

”It was.” I took it out of the inside of my jacket, holding it up.

“Mick Rainer’s gun.” Gordon chuckled. “Stuff of legend among hunters. There’s talk that it dated back farther than the Colt, and every owner, before passing it on, heats the metal and remoulds it, making the pattern-“

”-in the image of the next chosen holder, complete with their name.” I stored the gun back, smirking. “I know that story off by heart, thanks. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get breakfast for the boys.”

”BEANIE-“ Dean rushed out then stopped, still pulling on his shirt. “Oh.”

”Dean, I left a note.” I sighed.

”But I had to check!” He slumped. “Fine. Sam is cranky.”

”We better get that breakfast then.” I grinned. “Nice running into you, Gordon.” We walked off, and Dean turned to me, leaning in.

“Got a beer in your satchel?”

”I have a breath mint.”

”Ouch.”

That night, we were driving up to the farm which I’d said was Gordon’s next hit location. We went over, and there Gordon was, close to getting decapitated. Sam sprang into action, pulling Gordon out, while I punched the vampire, Dean rushing in to deliver another hit while I kicked him. The vampire was shoved against the belt, and Dean reached up, bringing the saw down on his head.

I watched while a vampire got brutally killed. And as he stared down on the body, with blood splattered on his face, Dean didn’t look guilty. Not in the slightest.

He looked like he enjoyed it.

I frowned, looking down as Gordon laughed, looking up. “I guess I owe you that drink.” We headed to the bar, where Gordon paid for the drinks. “I insist. Thank you, sweetie.“ He raised a glass, and Dean did too. “And another one bites the dust.”

”That’s right.” Dean smirked, both of them clinking glasses.

”Dean.” Gordon cackled. “You gave that big fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

”Beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful.”

”Beautiful?” I cut in. Sam just stayed silent, laid back in his seat.

”You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked.

”Yeah.” Sam nodded.

”Well, lighten up, Sammy!” Gordon encouraged.

”Only Dean and Ivy get to call me that.”

“Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

”Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess.”

”Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job.”

“See? That's what I've been trying to tell him. You could learn a thing or two from this guy.” Dean gestured to Gordon, but I tilted my head. Really? This dude?”

”Yeah, I could.” Sam grimaced, then stood up. “I’m not gonna put a downer on your parade. I’m going back to the motel.”

”I’ll go with him.” I stood up as well, smiling falsely as I walked behind Sam. “You boys enjoy yourselves.”

“Hey, Sam?” Dean called, making Sam and I turn around. “Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.” He threw the keys to Sam, who caught them. We walked out in silence, until Sam looked up.

Sam coughed. “Is it just me, or-“

“Is Dean being a douche?” I smirked. “Yeah. Big time.”

“This Gordon guy seems really off.”

“He does.” I nodded. “So I’ve got a way to find out who this guy is.”

We hung the keys in our room, and I dialled a number, putting it on speaker.

‘Harvelle's Roadhouse.’

“Ellen?” I grinned. “It’s Ivvy. Sam’s with me, and you’re on speaker.”

‘Ivvy, Sam! So good to hear from you.’

“Same here, Ellen.” Sam laughed.

‘You three are ok, aren’t you?’

“Yeah, we just had something to run by you.” I looked at Sam, patting him on the shoulder.

‘Yeah, shoot.’

“Has a guy called Gordon Walker ever stopped by your bar?” Sam asked.

‘Yeah, I know Gordon.’

“And?”

‘Well, he's a real good hunter. Why are you asking, sweetie?’

“We ran into him on a job and we’ll, we’re kind of working with him-“

‘Don’t do that, Sam.’ She warned.

“I thought you said he was a good hunter.” I frowned.

‘Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job you boys just let him handle it and you move on.’

Sam looked concerned, so he spoke up. “But Ellen-“

‘No, Sam- you just… listen to what I’m telling you, ok?’

”Alright, Ellen.” I nodded then said bye and cut the call. “Do we trust her information?”

“Rather her than Gordon.” Sam shrugged. “Besides, he sounded spooked.”

“We need to warn Dean.” I sighed. “Before it’s too late and he’s a copy of Gordon.” We went out, Sam putting coins in a machine and taking out two Cokes. He gave one to me, and I cracked it open and drank some out of it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I ignored it.

“Do you need my to get some food from the other one?” I asked.

“Two packets of crisps, maybe.” He nodded so I went to the other one-

Oh, god.

Noises of fighting rang out behind me, in which Sam was knocked out by two people, one holding a telephone that was used to knock him out. I pulled out my gun, aiming it at the woman who was holding it,

“Bad move.” I growled. “You never attack someone when their back is turned.” One of them bared their fangs at me, but the woman stopped him. “Take one step, I dare you.”

“She’s holding Michael Rainer’s gun.” The woman whispered to her companion. “She’s his daughter.”

“What of it?” I frowned.

“Can we trust her?” The man asked her.

“We can try.” She whispered, then spoke up. “My name’s Lenore. I knew your father.”

“Many people did.” I scoffed. “You’re just another Joe and Jane.”

“He helped us.” She smiled. “And you can too. We need your help, Ivonne. He told us you could, if you ever found us.”

I lowered my gun a little, then stiffened up. “How can I trust you?”

“‘One bullet can make one family and break another as well, so be careful where you use it.’.” She cited. “He told us a lot about you. About the scar cutting across your eyebrow and where you got it from, which was your first hunt.” She gestured to her own eyebrow, and I started to get the thought that she wasn’t lying. “How you stole his old leather jacket and love wearing beanies. How he would’ve given anything to see you more. We need your help, so please, don’t shoot.”

I took a deep breath before lowering my gun. “Fine. But I go anywhere Sam goes.”

“Ok, but you have to promise not to tell anyone where the nest is.” She begged, and I nodded.

I was waiting for Sam to wake up, when I heard a familiar voice call my name.

“Ivy?” I turned, seeing a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes who was making his way up to me. I laughed, standing up.

“Will?” I hugged him, grinning. “No way!”

“It’s so good to see you.” We stepped back, a goofy grin on his face. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me after we broke up.”

“It’s not the principle that you were a vampire.” I sighed. “It was the principle that I move around a lot for my work.”

He stared at me for a moment, a charged air in between us. “You like your work a lot, huh?”

“I’ve minimised vampire killings.” I smiled. “Only the evil ones.”

“That’s good.” He nodded. “I’m glad Lenore listened to my pitch.”

“I’m really proud of you, Will.” I paused, “Even if animal blood is the broccoli of your world.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“And I owe you my life for that. Honestly, I thought you’d have gotten over me by now.”

“You’ve probably heard this a million times, Ivy, but you’re impossible to get over.” He looked down, rumpling his hair with his hand. “I was just beginning to come to terms with our breakup and… now you’re here.”

“Should I be happy or sad about that?” I chuckled.

“I’d rather you be happy.”

“Will.” Eli came in, rounding the corner. “We need the girl.”

“I’m coming.” I walked with Eli, and the moment Sam saw me, he started struggling.

“Did you turn her?!” He growled, trying to break free.

“I’m ok, Sammy.” I assured, kneeling down in front of him. “These guys are clean, trust me. They do drink animal blood.”

“We choke on cow's blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight they murdered Conrad and they celebrated.” Eli hissed.

“That’s enough, Eli.” Lenore warned.

”Yeah, Eli, that’s enough.” Sam teased.

“What's done is done. We're leaving this town tonight.”

“Then why bring us here?” I asked.

“Believe me, I'd rather not. But I know your kind. Once you have the scent you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us.”

“So you’re asking us not to follow you.” Sam realised.

“We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone.”

“Give me one reason why I should believe you.”

“You know what I’m gonna do?” She got closer. “I’m gonna let you go.” She turned to Will, gesturing to us both. “Take them back. Not a mark on either of them.”

“We need to stop Dean.” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, we do.” I nodded.

We got back, and I leaned in the window to the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Will.”

“It’s nothing.” He smiled, leaning closer.

“Trust me, I owe you a lot for what you’ve done.” I grinned, tilting my head. Resisting drinking my blood, making the switch to animal blood, tackling members of your own family just to keep me safe, it’s a lot-“ I was silenced by his lips on mine, and I cupped his cheek, grinning stupidly when I pulled away. “I owe you for that too.“

“Pay me back later.” He smirked. “Your friend there looks like he’s gonna burst out into laughter.” I heard a snort, and I turned to Sam, who was looking up to the sky.

“Don’t mind me.” Sam giggled. “I’m just looking at this really interesting pitch black sky while you two are smooching.”

“Shut up.” I pulled a newspaper out of my satchel, thwacking Sam across the head before stuffing it back in. “You’re such a child.”

“I never knew that you were a romantic.”

“I was.” I smiled. “Will was a boyfriend.”

“Looks like the boyfriend. You met him in the nest and now you’re both kissing. Will and Ivy, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G-“

”Scratch that, you’re a baby.” I opened the door to the motel room, and our smiles were wiped off our faces to see Gordon with Dean. I hung up my jacket, and my arm holster, which contained my gun, was left exposed.

”Where you been?” Dean asked.

“Can we talk to you alone?” Sam asked, and Dean seemed to agree.

“Mind chillin’ out for a couple minutes?” He followed us outside, and I shut the door.

“Dean, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What are you talking about? Where were you?”

”The nest.”

”You found it?”

“They found us, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?”

“None.”

“Well, they didn’t just let you go-”

“That’s exactly what they did, Dean.” I frowned.

“All right, well, where is it?” Dean asked.

“We were blindfolded, so no, we don’t know.” I lied.

“Well, you've got to know something.”

“We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?”

“We don't think they're like other vampires. We don't think they're killing people.” Sam urged.

“You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.” Dean asked, looking angry and confused.

”The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at us, Dean.” Sam gestured to him and I. “They let us go without a scratch.”

“Wait, so you're saying... no, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care.” He started walking, and we didn’t have much time to convince him. “We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?”

“What part of vampire do you not understand?” Dean growled. “If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“So you would kill me if I still had my powers?” I asked, silencing him for a moment. “We kill ‘evil’, Dean, not just any supernatural force. They’re not killing people, so we don’t kill them.”

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time.”

“Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man, he knows.”

“Gordon.“ I scoffed.

“Yes.” He nodded defiantly.

“You’re taking his word for it?” Sam asked cynically.

“That’s right.”

“Ellen says he’s bad news, Dean.” I persisted.

“You called Ellen?” Dean raised his eyebrows. We nodded. “And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. You may know her, Ivonne, but no thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right, cause Gordon's such an old friend.” Sam seethed, fists clenching. “You don't think I can see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean’s teeth gritted, and I could practically feel the tension rising.

“He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day.”

“You know what?” He chuckled, backing away. “I'm not even going to talk about this-“

“You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it.” Sam growled. “Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded, then punched Sam. I didn’t think; I just felt red hot rage boil up and my hand swung round, slapping some silence into Dean. He just stared at me, holding his jaw.

“Go.” I ordered, furious. “Go to your new best friend Gordon and when you’ve realised that we’ve been telling the truth, you’re come back and say sorry. And you better beg.”

He seemed to regain his pride, gritting his teeth. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.” He left, and I turned to Sam, turning his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s bruising.” He nodded. “Are you okay, though? You seemed to blow up.”

“Yeah, I just thought of Carter.” I nodded. “If anyone touched him, they’d be on the floor in seconds, I don’t care who they are.”

”I didn’t wanna hurt Dean. He’s just blindsided.”

“Luckily I’m here to slap some sense into him, then.”

“But we really do need to convince him.”

“Fine.” We went back into the motel room, where Dean was gathering his stuff.

“Gordon?” Dean called, but there was no Gordon.

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Most likely.”

“Dean, we have to stop him.” I urged.

“Really, Ivonne?” He scoffed, hand moving to his cheek, which was red. Good. “Cause I say we lend a hand.”

“Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe us that.” I paused. “You owe me, Dean.”

“Real good negotiator you are, Ivonne.”

“Careful, or your cheek might turn purple instead of red.” I shot back. “Think about it, Dean.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.” We looked to where the keys were supposed to be, but they were gone.

“He snaked the keys.” Sam whispered. We ran to the car, getting inside through picking the lock.

“I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too.” Dean groaned while hot-wiring his car. ”So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?”

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm.” I informed, looking at my own map.

“How do you know?”

“I counted.”

“They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right and we hit the bridge.” Sam mapped out, tracing the path.

“You two are good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Dean grimaced.

We reached the house and went in, and I found both Lenore and Will tied to a chair, weak.

“Sam, Ivonne, Dean. Come on in.” Gordon grinned, holding a small bloody knife.

“Hey, Gordon. What's going on?” Dean asked, looking around.

”Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

“Look, man-“

“Just grab a knife. I was about to start in on the fingers.” He made a cut down Lenore’s arm, and she wheezed weakly in pain. He did the same to Will, who groaned a bit louder, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to resist the pain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, let's all just chill out, huh?”

“I am chill.” Gordon replied coolly.

“Gordon, just put the knife down.” Sam ordered, starting forward, but was stopped by Dean.

“Looks like Sam here needs to chill.”

“Just step away from her, all right?”

“You’re right, I’m wasting my time. These two will never talk. Might as well put them out of their misery.” He pulled out a knife. “Don’t worry, I sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.”

”Gordon, I'm letting her go.” Sam frowned, stepping in Gordon’s way.

“You’re not doing a damn thing.” Gordon seethed, pointing the knife at Sam’s chest.

“Hey, Gordon, let’s talk about this.” Dean protested feebly.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“The hell there is.” I took out my gun from my arm holster, pulling the trigger and hitting Gordon’s knife. It broke in half, the metal clattering to the ground.

Dean stepped in. “That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one...”

“Killed my sister?” Gordon cackled. “That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

“You did what?” I seethed.

”It wasn't my sister anymore, it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you, Dean.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam scoffed. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

“Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” He slit Sam’s arm with the jagged knife, and Lenore’s teeth emerged, and she started to hiss and snarl. He pressed it to Sam’s throat, dragging him closer to Lenore.

“Let him go! Now!” Dean ordered, taking out his gun and aiming at Gordon.

”Relax. If I wanted to kill him he'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.” The blood from Sam’s cut hit Lenore’s face, making her eyes turn red. “You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.” A tear ran down Will’s face at the sight of Lenore, and my jaw clenched.

“No, no…” Lenore sobbed, regaining control of herself.

“You see that, Gordon?” I snapped, taking the knife away from him and using it to cut Lenore and Will free. He collapsed into my arms, trying to stay upright. I cupped his cheek, his forehead leaning against mine. “I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“We’re done here.” Sam fumed.

“Sam, Beanie, get ‘em outta here.” I helped Will outside while Sam did Lenore, taking out a cloth and cleaning both of them. I was still holding my gun, and I changed the cartridge, chucking it away.

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” He asked.

”I have to.” I nodded. “Dean’s good, but Gordon knows more tricks.”

“Wait.” Will coughed, and then he kissed me gently. “Don’t get hurt. Please.”

“I won’t.” I assured before running inside. Dean flew through the air, hitting the wall and collapsing with a groan. I raised my gun, shooting Gordon in the shoulder, making his body fall back with the shock. His head hit the wall, and he slumped, unconscious.

“Good talk.” I smirked, training it on him.

”You came back?” Dean coughed, getting up.

”Yeah, I’m not leaving you with this sadist.” I picked Gordon up, slamming his head against a doorframe on my way to the chair that Will was previously tied up in. “Oops.” I drawled, dropping him in the chair. Dean tied him up, looking sick with himself.

”All that talk about black and white, but you’re the one who’s tied up.”

We were back at the motel, when we got out, I faced a now recovered Will with a smile.

”Thanks for saving my life.” He grinned. “I guess you don’t owe me one anymore. Kind of wanted an excuse to see you anytime.”

”I want to give you that excuse, really.”

He realised, nodding sadly, but masked it with his winning smile. “You’re leaving.”

”Sadly.” I bit my lip. “I wish we had more time.”

”Yeah, now I have to start another cycle of getting over you.” He joked, but still looked heartbroken.

“Well, I’m gonna make it harder, cause I still have to pay you back.” I grinned.

”Pay me back-“ I grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a kiss that he melted into instantly. His arms wrapped around my waist while mine went around his neck, my head tilting. His hands threaded in my hair-

“HAUN HAUN!” I heard Dean yell. “Mademoiselle et monsieur s’embrassent ! Que puis-je dire, c’est la vie !

“Ivonne et Will, assis dans un arbre!” Sam called. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

We pulled back, laughing. I turned to the boys, kissing my teeth. “You just HAD to say it in French!”

“Yeah!” Dean grinned.

“That was the WORST French I’ve ever heard!”

“Thanks!” Sam snickered.

It was a week since the Gordon incident, and we had returned to my house. I was reading a book on my bed, engrossed in a scene from it simply because the main character was dying and I don’t see that, like, ever.

“IVONNE!” I heard from outside. “HER LADYSHIP IVONNE RAINER OF THE KINGDOM OF NEW JERSEY, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HER CHAMBER WINDOW!” I rolled my eyes, putting down my book.

”What the hell?” I muttered. “What is this person playing at-“ I swept the curtain aside, and almost broke down laughing at who was heckling at my window. “Dean?!”

”Tis I!” He yelled, gesturing dramatically to himself.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Apologising!” He called back, a goofy grin on his face. “You said I needed to beg!”

”I never meant literally!”

“Too late!”

”Dean-“

”I HEREBY PROCLAIM THAT I, SIR DEAN WHO HAILS FROM THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, WAS A DOUCHEBAG.”

”AND?!”

”AN IDIOT.”

”AND?!”

”A SPINELESS, CORRUPT, HORRIBLE PIECE OF WORK. ANYTHING ELSE?”

”No, sounds like enough slander.” I smirked, gesturing for him to continue. He then got down on one knee, making Sam, who was watching from the other window and recording everything, lose his cool, cackling loudly.

“I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY AB-ABHORRENT BLASSsss…” He turned to Sam. “How d’you say it?”

”Blasphemy.” Sam repeated.

“RIGHT, UH, BLAS-PEMY. I BEG FOR THY FORGIVENESS, MY FAIR MAIDEN, FOR MY ABHORRENT BLAS-PEMY AND I IMPLORE YOU TO COME THITHER AND ACCEPT MY DEAREST APOLOGY.”

“Should I?” I asked Sam, who was losing it.

“I don’t know, this is fun.”

“If I give you a kiss, Dean, will you stop?” I sighed, and he contemplated the situation before nodding. I went downstairs, swiping something from my drawer before meeting him outside.

“Where’s my kiss, milady?” He smirked, standing up. I took his hand and placed something in it: a Hershey’s kiss. He grimaced at me while Sam almost fell out of the window in his mirth. “Ha ha, very funny.”

“Needed to have an excuse to get rid of the last one.” I laughed. “But yeah, I forgive you. Now you need to repeat the act for Sam.” I grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

”SAMUEL! SIR SAMUEL WINCHESTER OF THE KINGDOM OF KANSAS, PLEASE COME FORTH TO HIS CHAMBER WINDOW-“

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buckysqueen80 · 2 months

Text

Warnings: cheeky Bucky, reader angst, mature content

PlayBoy Bucky

Tap! Tap! Tap!

The tip of the pencil I was holding, knocked repeatedly against the desk.

I couldn’t wait for this day to end.

I looked up at the clock, and saw that I had only another ten minutes before the bell would go off, indicating the end of the day.

I looked back at the students in front of me, all with their heads down focusing on their tests.

“You have five minutes to finish up! Everyone must hand in their test on your way out. If you are already done, you may hand in your test now, and collect your things and leave for the day!” I tell them.

Gradually the students eventually came up, depositing their tests onto my desk.

The next thing I know, the bell rings for the end of the day.

“Have a good weekend everyone, and remember, make sure you come prepared to go over Chapters forty-five through forty-eight on Monday!!!!” I yell over the noise of the rushing kids.

Once they were all out of the classroom, I started to pack up all my stuff, collecting the tests to take home and grade over the weekend.

As I was putting my paperwork into my bag, there was a knock on the door.

I stand up and turn towards the door, to see my handsome husband standing there.

“You ready to go, doll?” he asks, as I pick up my bag.

“You better believe it!” I tell him, walking towards the door, brushing my lips over his briefly, making him moan.

“Behave you!” he says with a chuckle, slapping my ass after I walked out ahead of him.

“I’ll be have when you can behave Mr. Barnes!” I retorted back with a wicked grin.

Bucky and I had been teaching at the same school for the past five years.

He was teaching here first before I moved to the area.

He taught history and P.E, also coaching the school's wrestling team.

Honestly, Bucky was the first one in this school to make me feel welcomed, and not like an outsider.

The staff, like the students, tended to have their cliques that they stuck too.

The first few days I started, I kept to myself, just taking in the environment.

It wasn’t until the fifth day of my first week there, that Bucky came up to me and started a conversation.

“Hi, I’m James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky. I coach the wrestling team, and teach history and P.E.” he says, holding out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Sapphirine. Sapphirine Owens!” I say, shaking his hand in return.

“Like the mineral?” he asks.

“Yes! My parents were geologists, so they named me after the mineral composite for sapphires.” I tell him, offering more information than I usually do about the origin of my name.

“So, where are you from originally? Because you don’t have the typical charm from around here!” he starts off.

“Oh, um, I’m originally from Boston, but I moved here about three weeks ago. I transferred from the school I was teaching at as a special request from Principal Rogers.” I told him.

“Boston, hmm. Never would have thought. You don’t have the accent!” he says.

“Yeah, I did a few years teaching in Canada as well. So somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost the accent.” I say with a chuckle.

“Well I’ve got to get to the next period. Glad to have you here. You’re a definite breath of fresh air in this place!” he says, standing up, offering a wink in my direction.

Not sure why it made me blush, but I could feel my cheeks getting hotter by the second.

Once he left, one of the other female teachers turned around in her seat and leaned over to me.

“Don’t let him fool you, hun. He’s got a reputation of loving and leaving. That’s why we have a hard time keeping staff in this place!” she says, turning back around.

“Um.. thank you Ms. ….?” I start.

“Ms. Carter. Sharon Carter!” she says, turning back again, offering her hand.

I carefully shake her hand, then stand up getting ready to head to my classroom.

Once the day was done, I beelined it to Principal Rogers office.

As I knock on the door, he looks up at me.

“Hey Sapphirine! What’s up? Come in!” he tells me.

“Hey Mr. Rogers,” I start before he interrupts me.

“Please, call me Steve. Mr. Rogers makes me feel like the guy from the kids show!” he says with a chuckle.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Ok, Steve. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the history teacher, Mr. Barnes?” I ask.

Steve sighs before taking off his glasses and putting them on his desk.

“Has he said anything to you?” he asked me.

“He just introduced himself. It’s what Ms. Carter told me after he left that is making me come to you. That he was the reason why it was hard to keep staff around here? Is that true?” I ask.

“Bucky does have a reputation of being a ladies man. I have known him for a really long time, and I can’t ever recall him having a serious relationship. And because all the ladies find him charming and attractive, when things don’t go well, they get upset and tend to leave.” he confesses.

“Oh!” I muse.

“Is there anything else?” I follow up.

“No, not really. I mean he is a nice guy when you get to know him. Well rather, if he lets you get to know him! He’s also very reserved about his life and shies away from people. I think more so out of a defense mechanism, but still, just be careful.” he tells me.

“I will. Thank you!”I finish, standing up to walk out.

A few weeks later, I was in the teachers lounge sitting at a table, drinking coffee while grading some papers.

“Non Connor, ce n’est pas la bonne réponse!” I say out loud, marking the paper with an x. (No Connor, that is not the correct response!)

“Ok so you are from Boston, but you can speak French?” Bucky says, dropping into the chair across from me.

I had avoided Bucky as much as possible at first, because I didn’t want to risk everyone being right about him. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought he deserved a chance.

So I found him in the halls one day and asked him if he wanted to meet in the lounge for coffee.

Since then, we kept meeting in the lounge, having coffee during lunch while grading papers.

“Yes, the perks of teaching in Canada for a while. That, and I tend to learn languages rather quickly.” I tell him,giving him a full smile.

“You’re definitely full of surprises!” he tells me, a smile spreading over his face with a wink, before taking a sip from his mug.

I feel my cheeks start to burn.

The rest of the period finishes, and I have to go to the next class.

Before I get up, Bucky darts up putting his mug in the sink, then comes over and leans over my shoulder whispering in my ear, “ You sure are cute when I make you blush!” before walking out the doors.

I had honestly thought the first time was a one off. He clearly knows how to get under my skin.

And I can’t say I don’t like it, because I kind of do.

But do I want to get involved with the resident playboy? I ask myself.

I push the thought aside until a later time.

Later that day, I was sitting at my desk. The bell had already rung to signal the end of the day, but there were some things I wanted to do before I left.

After I had packed up the rest of my stuff, I looked up at the clock and saw that it was four thirty.

I made sure everything was closed in the room before I headed out.

As I walked the halls heading towards the parking lot, I started walking past the gym.

There I could hear the sounds of the men's wrestling team in full practice.

I stopped by the door to watch.

There stood Bucky, motivating a student to get out of the hold they were in.

“COMMON!!! YOU GOTTA DO BETTER THAN THAT IF YOU WANT TO WIN REGIONALS!!” he yells.

Ok motivating probably wasn’t the best way to describe his teaching technique, but I had to admit, it got results.

The kid flipped their opponent off of them with a surge of energy, then all of a sudden was pinning them down for a one, two, three count.

“THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT!!!” Bucky said, giving the kid a high five when they got up off the mat.

Just then, he looks up, and sees me standing at the door.

I quickly look away, and start the walk to my car.

I make it a bit of the way down the hall, and was just about to push open the doors when I feel a hand on my wrist, stopping me.

“Sapphirine, wait!” he says to me.

I turn around and look at him, my cheeks definitely blushing.

“Was there something you wanted back there?” he asks me.

“Oh, um, no. I was just walking past and saw the team there. I’ve never really seen a wrestling practice so it fascinated me.” I explain.

“Did you want to come back and watch the practice some more?” he asks me.

“I would love to, but I really should get going!” I say.

“There's practice again tomorrow, same time. You could come by and watch it if you want. Then maybe I can take you to dinner afterwards?” he says, looking down at the ground, suddenly nervous, uncertain of what I will respond.

“Sure Bucky, I’d love to.” I told him.

He looks up with a big grin on his face.

“Great! I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow!” he says, starting to walk backwards to the gym, unable to take his eyes off of me.

“See you then Bucky!” I say back, before leaving for the day.

The next morning, I woke up a lot earlier than my alarm was set for.

I got up, showered, then, wrapping a towel around my body, and one around my head, I walked to my closet.

If I was going out to dinner afterwards, I wanted to wear something that would be good for the day, and appropriate for later on.

I pulled out this ultramarine dress and held it up against me.

I did a quick sweep of my hair so I could see how it would look.

The color brought out the shade of my eyes, changing them from a slate blue, to the sapphire blue.

I smiled, knowing this was the dress I was going to pick, so finished getting ready for the day.

I didn’t see Bucky in the lounge like normal at lunch, so I sat there drinking coffee by myself, while grading more papers.

“Vous pouvez faire bien mieux que ça!” I whispered, continuing to grade the paper. (You can do much better than that!)

Once I was finished with the papers, I started to pack up my papers, and started to head out into the hall.

As I turned the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks.

There stood Bucky leaning up against the wall, talking to a small framed brunette who was quite busy giggling at whatever Bucky had to say.

With my cheeks flaming hot, and tears threatening to spill, I rushed by, not stopping when he called my name.

“Sapphirine! Sapphirine!! Wait!!” he says, catching up to me.

He grabs my elbow and whirls me around, forcing me to look at him.

“What?” I all but spit at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, confusion plainly written on his face.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER?!?!?” I all but screech at him.

He had the nerve to look taken aback.

“I’ll tell you what is the matter, Bucky!” I start, drawing out the sound of his name, as if speaking it was going to make me vomit.

“You ask me to come watch your team at practice for today, and asked me out to dinner afterwards. The same day that this is supposed to happen, you don’t show up in the lounge at lunch like normal, and when I’m on my way to my next class, I find you in the halls getting cozy with a brunette, who hangs off of every single word you say!” I blurt out, taking a deep breath, trying not to let him see the hurt I felt.

“Sapphirine.. “ he starts.

“DON’T!!” I raise my voice at him, then lowering it for the next part.

“I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t want to believe what was going around about you, how you are a playboy, a lady’s man. I was told I shouldn’t trust you, and it turns out that maybe they were right?!?” I hissed at him.

“Sapphirine! That’s my cousin!” he says, before I can say anything else.

“Oh please!” I say, recoiling away at his attempt at an excuse.

“Here hold on,” he says, running a bit back down the hall. “Dawn! Hey, yeah! Come here! There’s someone I want you to meet!!” he calls out.

The petite brunette came walking over, with a wide smile on her face.

She sticks out her hand for me to take.

“Hi! My name is Dawn Barnes!” she says, meekly.

I look at her, then at Bucky.

“Really?” I ask, starting to feel embarrassed.

“Yes, really!” he says with a chuckle.

“Sapphirine. Oh, now I feel stupid!” I say, trying to cover my face with my free hand.

Bucky lets out a low chuckle.

“Dawn is visiting my parents from out West. She stopped in to surprise me, because I wasn’t going to be able to make it to dinner at my parents place tonight, because I have plans.” he says, looking directly at me.

“Yeah,Bucky’s always been like a big brother to me, so when I found out he wasn’t going to be making it to dinner tonight, I had to come see my Buckaroo here.I’m sorry if it looked bad!” Dawn says, apologetically.

“No, I’m the one who should apologize!” I said, looking down at the floor.

“It’s ok!” Dawn says.

“Great! Now that we got that out of the way,” he says, turning to Dawn. “ Have fun with my parents tonight, and the next time you’re in town, we will have to go for drinks or something to catch up!” he says.

“Sure, sounds like a plan! It was nice meeting you Sapphirine! See you around!” she says, turning to walk away.

I turn to walk away, when I’m pulled into an empty janitor closet, and the door is shut.

I hear the audible click of the lock being turned.

“W-what are you doing Bucky?” I ask, trying to keep my focus on him.

“Were you jealous?” he asks me.

“What? No!” I say, praying he’s going to drop it.

Unfortunately he doesn’t.

“You were!” he says, taking a step towards me, his voice low and his movements calculated.

I really didn’t have anywhere I could go, as he was blocking the door.

He’s now standing in front of me, and I can feel his breath fanning over my face.

“I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me, the way you look for me in the crowd. The way your skin turns light pink when I say something that makes you blush. And how that blush deepens when I wink at you. And now your reaction today!” he says, as his hand caresses my cheek, his thumb brushing my bottom lip slowly.

His eyes are glued to my lips, as his tongue comes out and darts across his.

I have a hard time concentrating on anything else, except the feel of his breath on my skin and his hand on my face.

His fingers curl around the base of my head, and pulls me so I’m pressed up against him.

I can feel how toned his chest is through his shirt, and it makes it much harder to concentrate, as all I can imagine is my hands running over his bare chest.

I swallow hard, causing Bucky to chuckle.

Before I can do anything, he’s pulled me closer, and his mouth crashes into mine,

His tongue, exploring my mouth, seeking out mine.

Instinctively, my eyes close and I drop whatever I was still holding, to snake my hands up his neck and through his hair.

He pushes me up against the shelving unit, as his hands roam over my body.

It briefly registers in my brain that I wore a dress today, and it must have registered in Bucky’s as well, as his hands roam over my ass and down to the hem of the dress, his hands bunching the material up so it’s around my hips.

He kneels down in front of me, pulling my panties down so I can step out of them.

Once I step out of them, he puts them into his pocket.

“They’re mine now!” he tells me, kissing up my inner thighs.

“Hold on to the shelving unit and don’t let go until I tell you too!” he says.

I do as I’m told, and barely have a hold of it before I feel his mouth taunting my dripping pussy.

He lifts one of my legs to rest on his shoulder, and as his mouth continues to explore its current location, he runs a hand down my exposed hip, around to my ass, and slides two fingers deep into my folds, making me moan.

He puts my other leg up on his other shoulder and keeps devouring me like he hasn’t eaten in forever.

As I’m holding on to the shelving, I want to very much run my fingers through his hair.

As I’m about to contemplate doing that, his tongue starts tapping on my clit, making me whimper and moan louder.

He pulls his face away, just long enough to tell me to be quiet, and buries his face back between my legs.

I’m so close to losing control, that my hips start grinding against his face.

It seems like no time at all that I’m moaning as my orgasm washes over me.

Bucky holds me still, as I come down off my high, setting my feet back on the ground, pulling the hem of my skirt back down, smoothing it out.

He stands up, wiping all the cum off of his face with a paper towel and chucks it into the garbage.

He bends over to pick up the stuff I dropped,and hands it to me.

We walk out of the closet, closing the door behind us.

“We can continue this after dinner if you’d like?” he says, turning to look at me.

“I’d like that, a lot!” I said, a blush heating my cheeks, although not sure whether it was because of what just happened in there, or if it was at the thought of continuing again later on.

I continued on to the next period, my mind wandering back to the janitor closet.

By the time the end of the day came, I was ready to go.

As I got to the gym, I saw the door was propped open, so I walked in and sat down on the bleachers.

The practice had already started, so I watched as he had them run drills and other warm ups before they hit the mats.

As they started their rounds, Bucky came over and sat beside me on the bleachers.

His hand went to my knee, turning it so it was palm up.

I placed my hand in his and watched the rest of the practice.

As the kids went to shower and change before going home, Bucky came back over to me, having changed into something more suited for dinner.

“Have I told you how much that color brings out that of your eyes?” he whispered to me, before placing a kiss on my cheek.

“I can now see why your parents named you Sapphirine. Your eyes look like sapphires.” he says, helping me up as the last kid left.

All I could do was blush.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made reservations for us at this restaurant downtown. It’ll take a bit to get there, but the reservation isn’t until six thirty, so we have plenty of time.” he says, as we drop my bookbag to my car before we go to his.

He opens the door for me, and I climb in.

As I buckle up, Bucky climbs in and starts the car.

We drove to the restaurant, and were promptly seated.

The menus were handed to us, and we were asked what we wanted to drink.

“We will have a bottle of your best Sauvingon Blanc please.” he says, while opening the menu.

The waiter went to fill the request.

The moment he left, Bucky looked up at me.

He reached across the table and grabbed my hand. His thumb brushes across my knuckles.

I look up at him, and see that he has a concentrated look on his face, like there is something he wants to say, but isn’t sure how to say it.

“Sapphirine, I know we are colleagues, and work together. I also know that you’ve only been teaching at the school for a short while, but I feel that I’ve spent my whole life hoping to find you.

To find the person who could tame my restless heart, and since you’ve been around, I haven’t wanted to be with anyone else, and my thoughts are consumed by you, every night in my dreams and every waking hour. I know one day, I’m going to marry you.” he says ,but holding up a finger before I can interject.

“I will marry you, it’s inevitable. I am that certain that you are the one meant for me. I’m willing to take it slow and do this the right way.” he finishes.

“I’d like that, but I have one question. When you say take it slow do you mean slow as in a snail on a turtle's back screaming it’s going too fast still, or slow as in what we did in the closet earlier?” I ask him pointedly.

This time I got Bucky to blush.

“I deserve that I suppose.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean as slow as you want to take it. You can set the pace for the entire relationship, including as to when you think we should have sex.” he says, looking back up into my eyes.

I decided to make him sweat it out a bit.

The waiter came back and poured our wine, before setting it aside, and taking our meal options.

Once we finished eating and paid, we headed back to Bucky’s car.

When we got to the passenger side, I was leaning back against the car, and grabbed Bucky when he came to open my door.

I kissed him hard, and with as much passion as I could.

“I won’t make you wait on the sex, but the rest we can do at a moderate pace.” I tell him, with a gleam in my eye.

He opened the door so I could climb in, and then hurried back around to his side.

“My place or yours?” he asks.

“Which is closest?” I asked.

“Mine is right around the corner!” he says, then proceeds to steer the car in that direction.

When we arrive at his place, he opens the door for me, ushering me inside ,and proceeds to close it, spinning me so I was up against it.

His lips come crashing down on mine, teasing and pulling at my bottom lip.

He reaches up my back to find the zipper of my dress and quickly undoes it.

I let it fall to the floor, revealing to Bucky that I am now naked.

He picks me up and carries me over to the couch, then goes around and makes sure the blinds are closed.

When he comes back to where i am, everything was slow and sensual.

He spent the whole night worshiping my body and I his.

The next morning, he drove me to my place so I could quickly get changed and ready for work then drove us both to the school.

That was the start of everything for us.

During the last five years, Bucky proposed, when we took our summer vacation in Paris.

He surprised me with a picnic in the park in front of the Eiffel Tower, where he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, which of course I said yes.

We got married last spring, and everyday things have been really good.

Today marks our one year wedding anniversary, and five years since the day he first came up to me in the lounge.

There were those that doubted that I could tame the resident playboy, but we ended up showing all the doubters.

As we head out the door for the day, a playful race starts after he smacks my ass inside.

I get to the car first laughing as he comes up behind me, attacking my neck with kisses.

With my back against the car, his hands on either side of me, I look up at him, and he gently kisses me, the kiss offering the promise of more to come.

“Happy anniversary Baby!” he says before kissing me again.

“Happy anniversary My Love!” I whisper back.

With that, we head home to celebrate, the day the playboy was tamed.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x you #james bucky barnes

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