#i do think sam deserves all the girlfriends ever

[samfag]

what are your top 3 sam ships?

i am not much of a shipper 2 be honest but in terms of normal romantic relationships (not exploring abusive or otherwise unhealthy dynamics. bc shipping can be this too and it would be a lot harder to decide if i included this type of ship lol) i do really like:

1) sastiel (can be weird too depending on what angle you look at it from but im talking about normal and niceys sastiel here)

2) samjess

3) (transfem) samcharlie

:-3

[mnnuni]

Domestic

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean's perspective of Sam and Reader's relationship; Sam and Reader are two cutie patooties Words: 1450 Warnings: none, very fluffy Author's note: I actually don't know if I love this or I hate it

A solid faithful relationship into the hunters' field was almost rare: if they were married they were either consummed for loss or full of affairs and if they had boyfriends or girlfriends they will fight for the distance or the different visions of life. And then there was the rarity, the true love cases, the one in which they would share their life of hunters as easily as a piece of bread.

Dean Winchester never really believed in those rareness, never really believed in love in general... that was untill he really saw Sam and (Y/N) together.

Their love started slowly, it was one of that things that people would say "we already knew" when they eventually announced their relationship.

Dean was convinced that Sam's heart decided from the very beginning of their story that he would beat out of his ribcage only for her in his entire life; Dean saw it in the way Sam didn't just pass (Y/N) the milk and sugar for her coffee for her second cup of that day on their first case together, but he put them in her mug while she read out loud some articles for Dean. Sam didn't put much thougth in that action, but when she realized (Y/N) blushed because he remebred the exact order and amount of products she used after only one time.

But Dean also knew that he approved of their relationship when it was him that proposed to Sam to pick the impala and take (Y/N) somewhere special, just because she deserved all the effort his brother could put in a date and even more. Sam wasn't so surprised about that because he also saw how Dean had grown fond of (Y/N), to the point she was the only girl ever that didn't receive the "hurt my brother and I will end you" speech but it was the other way around.

When (Y/N) confined in Dean one night he really wasn't expecting what she was telling him, after more than an year of being officially with Sam.

"I know he loves me" that was her premise, and Dean could have screamed "WE ALL KNOW" but he let her keep going "but sometimes i whish things were easier" at this the Whinchester quirked an eyebrow and Y/N started rumbling then "I'm not saying it isn't easy with Sam, I just want to say that ... there's never a period of peace in our kind of lifes and we all accepted this when we decided to be hunters, but sometimes I find myself of dreaming one night together without running from something or cleaning up eachother scars... I need normality"

Dean knew that this was also Sam's dream, his little brother wanted this since Stanford, but he also knew that both of them needed to hunt because that was what gave them the hope to make the world a better place and the adrenaline that every man and every woman would need to go throu life.

After this conversation with (Y/N), Dean almost ran to Sam to order him to organize something special for his lady; he wasn't surprised to find him already writing a list of things he wanted to do with her, "I know I didn't give her the right amount of attention these past weeks, shoul I go for a picnic or romantic restaurant?". Dean tried not to smile at his answer, even if he really admired how Sam could know how his girlfriend felt withouth even say anithing and his commitment to their relationship; "The picnic is cute, but not for this time of the year. No reastaurant. She needs something calm, be domestic dude"

He left him like this to think of something, he was sure his brother would have find the right thing.

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

The next day Sam was adjusting one of the bunker's biggest room, he bought a projector and a too big amount of movies -even if he thought that he could never do too much for (Y/N)-

He asked Dean to help him put her favorite couch in there and order a lot of her favourite snacks.

Dean was really proud of how Sam behaved with (Y/N) and for (Y/N), never saw him so whipped for no-one.

When (Y/N) got out of her shower, she was ready to jump into Sam's bed and sleep for two days if she could; instead she found Dean in the kitchen with a blindfold in his hands, "I promise, you will lovee what you'll see after this" he winked and then put it on her face.

"I swear to God Dean, if you're tricking me..." they were walking a pat she never did in the bunker "oh please you love me too" "if you think so...", Dean stopped her in front of a purple metal door and took the blindfold off "oh i know so" he whispered and then proceeded to walk away from there.

(Y/N) was left to wonder what the hell was going on when Sam opened said door and smiled "Hi", it had the same emotion he carried during their first date, (Y/N) smiled too and got on her tiptoes to give him a light kiss. He grabbed her hand and walked her into the room, she would have cried if she realized sooner everything there was in that room.

"You did all this for me?!"

It was clear in her voice that she was emotional in that moment and Sam hated the fact that she underestimated her value for him, "baby, that's nothing. Perhaps I should have done something sooner when I first started to notice you needed some time alone" "thank you". Sam smiled and gave her a kiss.

When they finally settled onto the couch (Y/N) was analyzing every detail there was in Sam's preparation: he put three blankets on the couch 'cause he knew he was too tall to tall for them both be covered entirely just by one and also added few pillows because (Y/N) loved the fluffy feeling of them while watching a movie; he made a little table with every kind of chips the market sold and four bottles of her favorite soda, on the shelf under it there were two or three packages of cookies too. Sam also organised something like fifteen movies, all divided by genre and number of stars (Y/N) gave them when they first talked about it.

Sam chose the first movie of the night -obviously a musical- and settled next to his girlfriend. She was so fucking happy about all Sam had done for her.

(Y/N) put her head on his chest while Sam's arm was around her shoulders, drawing figures on her arms to make her relax some more.

Dean snuck in after the first two songs of the musical and rested with one shoulder leaned on the doorframe to look at them: they were adorable. At first when they were on their honeymoon phase Dean felt the need to puke every two seconds, but now he loved to look at them from afar and be happy of their happiness

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at Sam: he was so focused on the screen,the lights of the scenes illuminated his face in a way that made his eyes sparkle.

"I love you", she whispered and Sam's face turned instantly. She still blushed when Sam looked at her that way, "and I love you".

Dean didn't see the kiss because he closed the door immediately after his brother said those words, that was another of the things that made Dean root for them: they never said "I love you too", like they had to say it just because or to not be in an embarrassing situation; every time they proclaimed their love for eachother they made sure to let the other know how much they actually loved eachother and how they really believed in what they said with that "I love you".

Sam and (Y/N) watched another movie and a documentary, they finished almost all the chips and sodas. After about the half of the documentary (Y/N) fell asleep snuggled up to Sam, who was massaging her head -he already knew that after one cookie she was about to pass out, so he made sure to get her in the most comfortable position and help with his hands in her hair to allow the sleep to finally set-

Dean never got back in that room, because he knew that they would have fallen asleep eventually. He made himself a burger and drank one too many beers, but it didn't matter because that night Dean too slept so well knowing that his brother and his sister were okay.

[bubblessunshinehoney]

His Anchor

Annnd i'm back, well maybe you didn't even see me leave, lol. But here is a little drabble (bit longer i think) of a little idea i had with our dearest bucky.

English in not my first language, no beta-read, just a one shot to get this fic out of my system.

Hope you'll enjoy,

don't be shy, reblogs, comments and like!! :)

Love.

Cloudy

Just imagine you're Bucky girlfriend. Few knows that you're together. It's still new, still fresh and Bucky needs to navigate around it, around the fact that he deserves to be love, that he can love again and that he won't hurt you, scare you or disapoint you when he wakes up for the 10th night in a row because of his nightmares.

But imagine, one day, he comes back from a mission, everything went bad, like horribly bad. He blames himself...because Sam got hurt, Nat got hurt and even Steve got hurt.

It's his fault, he got distracted, he tought he was over his traumas, but PTSD just kicked in again and he couldn't do anything against it.

He's feral, in a second state. Even Steve doesn't dare approach him. He's left alone in a room...thankfully one with windows, so he can try to realise is not back in a Hydra base. But he's not fully here, his eyes are vacant, lost in his traumas. He's covered in cold sweat, walking around in the room like a old lion rouding in his cage in a forgotten circus.

You arrived as soon as you could, being away with some friends for a little trip. You just had time to shower before Nat called you. In you frenzy to get there, you didn't realise you put one of his henley's on, but you're happy you did.

"Where is he? " you ask in greeting.

Sam pointed the room, his head covered with a bandage.

"You're okay?" he just nodded with a faint smile. Steve holds you gently.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea you go in there, Y/N", he looks tortured and lost. "He's..he's not himslef right now, even I can't go in there."

"Yeah, but I'm not you Steve. I'm his girlfriend, I can handle it."

A tiny gasp comes from behind, the revelation out in the open for everyone to hear and you don't care. You only care to provide the peace Bucky needs.

Steve looks into your eyes, searching for , you don't know what, but he seems to find it, because he nods and let you go.

You take a deep breath before opening the door. The moment you close it, Bucky faces you and stalks towards you. You don't back up, you don't scare away. You stay grounded, feet heavy and you wait for him to come as close to you as possible. When the tip of his shoes touches yours, you look up to meet his eyes. The blue is cold, vacant eyes looking into yours. But you can see it, hidden behind the coldness, a cry for help.

You both look at the others for long minutes, but then you whisper softly, lovingly, warm. "Welcome home, my Jamie."

Recognition slowly fills in his eyes, the blue warms, his feature relaxes ever so slightly, his head bows towards you.

"Welcome home, my lovely Jamie." you murmur with all the love you have for this man. He bows his head until his foreheard touches yours and he shudders. "Welcome home, my love". He blinks, the vacant look fading away. You smile up at him, and he nuzzles his nose with yours, you nuzzle back, making him scrunch his in return.

Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, you squeeze your fingers around his softly. He walks even closer to you, his vibranium fingers playing with the hem of his henley you're wearing.

"You're home", your voice a song to his heart, his ears, his soul. His left hand grip your waist, your hand stroking his cheek, not once you look away from his eyes. He leans into your touch, relaxing even more, pressing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, shuddering his exhale.

"I'm home" he chokes on it, his voice hoarse, like after the worst nightmare, like he screamed for too long, lost his voice in his horrors.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, then he hugs you. His face in the crook of your neck, his arms tightly around you. You hug him back as tight as you can, playing with the end of his hair in the soothing circles that helps him, that grounds him back in the present.

You stay like this for long minutes, then he looks back at you, rests his forehead on yours again and he pleads "home..." you nod and take his left hand in yours, before walking out of the room and straight to your car, waving to the others to say good bye. Bucky just holds your hand, focus on you, he can't quite make what's around him just yet. You're his lifeline and he holds on to it for his sanity.

Once you've reached your shared flat, he brings you to bed and lays you, makes sure you're comfortable, before laying between your legs, his head on your chest, ear on your heart, arms securely around your waist. Your hands stroke his hair, neck and upper back until he comes back fully to you.

He's home when he's with you. You're his anchor to remind him than even if he floats away, there's a strong line to bring him back.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Long-Distance Call | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of arguing, angst, everyone's saying things they don't mean, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5056

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For hours most nights recently, you watched Dean sleep. In the dim light coming in through the cheap curtains in motel rooms, you would make out the details of his face and trace your eyes along them. He was just so beautiful, and you considered yourself incredibly lucky for every day you got to spend with him; despite the fact that those days were coming to an end. 

Dean knew you hadn’t been sleeping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

Sam was driving himself crazy talking to witch doctors, professors, and demonologists trying to wrap his head around a way to break Dean’s deal. You didn’t get involved, though; you knew it was futile to do so. 

You weren’t sure if feeling helpless and knowing the situation was helpless was better than feeling helpless and trying to gain control of the situation, but you knew Sam probably felt as horribly as you did. 

“Y’know, someday, if we ever get a house— it could happen!” you assured Dean off his skeptical look. “We should get a couch. It’d be better for our backs than sitting on Baby or these shitty mattresses.”

You sat up facing Dean who lounged on the headboard in your shared motel room. Tension had been high between the brothers recently, and you decided it was best for the three of you to bunk separately. 

“You are annoyingly optimistic, you know that?” he replied. 

“I like to think of myself as more of a realist,” you returned. “But I’m trying to be more like you lately.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. His eyes held such an intensity when he looked at you. 

In vulnerable moments like these, you couldn’t bear to look back at him. You opted for looking down at the mattress or, really, anywhere other than his face. “I mean, your whole thing is being annoyingly biting and sarcastic and— I mean, you just have the most amazing sense of humor— even when things suck major ass. And I don’t know how you do it. But… it’s admirable.” When your eyes returned to his face, he was looking at you with such pride and admiration. 

“What?” you asked.

“I just love you,” he said. 

You grinned widely and reached for his hand. You held it for just a moment before speaking again. “When are you gonna tell Sam?”

“What?”

“That we can’t save you.”

He sighed. “(Y/N)—”

“No, Dean, he deserves to know.” You shifted to your knees from your cross-legged position. “He’s on a wild goose chase instead of enjoying the time he has with you.”

“He’s a grown man, he can make his own choices,” Dean insisted, hand retreating from yours. He crossed his arms over his chest.

You gave him a look. “And maybe he’d make different choices if he had all the information about the situation available to him.”

“Alright, professor, no need to lecture me,” he grumbled, getting out of bed.

“Dean—! Don’t get mean just because you’re pissed at yourself and this whole situation,” you said, standing to face him. “Look, I’m only saying something because I don’t want the last few weeks of your life to be spent fighting with your brother.”

“Way to put that in perspective, (Y/N), thank you,” Dean spat. 

“See, this is when your attitude pisses me off beyond belief,” you argued. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you, and you’re being a complete dick. This didn’t have to turn into a fight, and I’m not understanding why it did!”

“Because you’re my girlfriend, not my fucking therapist,” he responded. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life.”

“Okay, this clearly isn’t about me.” You shook your head, turning away from him to grab your shorts and shoes. 

“Then, what’s it about, (Y/N)?” 

You turned back to him. “Clearly, this is about your deal.” “Oh, my god,” Dean scoffed.

“You’re runnin’ out of time. You’re scared, and you’re lashing out. It’s crap. I only wanna help you because I love you,” you told him. “And I’m not gonna tolerate you getting mean with me just because I told you something you didn’t wanna hear.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, seeing you stomp toward the door. 

“Out,” you replied. “Don’t follow me.”

***

That night, after yet another argument, you convinced Dean to let you sleep in his car and have him take the bed because you knew you wouldn’t get much sleep anyway. You were hurt and angry, but you missed holding Dean. You missed memorizing his features while he slept and finally seeing him at peace. 

And the next morning, the situation was no better. Now, instead of Dean and Sam fighting, it was you, Dean, and Sam fighting. 

Sam had gone to talk to another person about how to potentially break Dean’s deal. “So, the professor doesn't know crap.”

“Shocking,” Dean commented. “Pack your panties, guys, we're hitting the road.”

“What? What's up?” Sam asked. 

“That was Bobby.” He gestured to the phone he’d just hung up. “Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, and he thinks there's a spirit involved.”

“So, you two were talking a case?” 

“No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands,” Dean replied dryly. “Yeah, we were talking a case!”

“Dean, stop being an ass,” you scolded. 

“Well, get Sam to stop asking stupid questions.” Sam huffed. “So, a spirit? What?”

“Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off,” Dean explained. “This is not ringing your bell?” He pressed when Sam looked at him skeptically. 

“Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case,” the younger one replied. 

“Whose?” Dean asked. 

“Yours!”

“Right. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me,” the older scoffed. 

“What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?” Sam protested. 

“Chasing our tails, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower forty-eight. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.”

“We should summon Ruby,” Sam suggested. 

“I'm not gonna have this fight with you.” Dean shook his head. 

Sam continued anyway. “She said she knows how to save you.”

“About that, Dean has something he wants to tell you.” You turned to your partner expectantly with your arms folded. 

“What?” Sam asked, looking between the two of you. 

Dean was giving you a glare which you returned. 

“Dean, what?” Sam asked again. 

“She can’t save me,” Dean answered finally, still holding your glare. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn back to you. “(Y/N)—?”

“She told us she can’t save him, Sam,” you admitted. 

Sam turned his anger toward you. “Whoa, so you’ve known this whole time and haven’t told me?” 

“It wasn’t mine to tell, Sam!”

“Yeah, but the both of you still kept a secret from me,” he responded. 

“You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?” Dean snapped. 

You turned to the car. 

“Where are you going?” Dean called after you. 

“Guess we’re going to Ohio.”

***

You were silent for the entirety of the ride to the deceased’s house. Dean and Sam only spoke to make a snarky remark directed at each other or at you, but you refused to respond. 

You asked the woman what happened to her husband, and she reluctantly told you that he kept talking to a woman named Linda on the phone. However, there was no one on the other line when she would pick it up to check. 

Curious about who this woman could have been, you and the brothers returned to the motel to research. 

“Linda's a babe. Or, was,” Dean commented. 

Your heart dropped. You knew he was kidding, but now was so not the time to make jokes like that. “Don’t say shit like that, please.”

“She’s dead, (Y/N),” he replied dryly. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I just think it’s in really poor taste to say that right now considering the state our relationship’s in,” you told him, trying to remain as calm as possible. 

He slammed his laptop shut. “Are you seriously picking a fight with me over this? Right now?”

Sam interrupted before you could respond. “Oh-kay! That’s enough. Who’s Linda?”

“Linda Bateman.” Dean turned his eyes away from you. “She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.”

“So what happened?” Sam asked. 

“Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away.”

“So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?” Sam wondered aloud.

“You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?”

“You got me,” Sam shrugged. 

“What about that, uh, caller I.D?” Dean asked his brother, referring to the number he’d found on Ben’s phone. 

“Turns out, it's a phone number,” Sam replied. “It's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.”

“So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?” Dean returned. 

“Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it.”

“Well how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over one-hundred years old?”

Sam suggested that the three of you should head to Ben’s phone company’s local office posing as representatives of their headquarters. 

“You guys go ahead without me,” you said. 

“Oh, c’mon, (Y/N)—”

You cut Dean off. “No. Both of us need space before we kill each other. So, please. Go.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled and stormed out of the room.

Sam stayed behind with you for a moment. “I’m sorry about him,” he said.

You sniffled, wiping away tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “It’s okay. Just a rough patch, I guess. Call me when y’all have something.”

He nodded and pulled you into a hug. Sam placed a quick kiss on the crown of your head before following his brother out of the door. 

***

Sam called to inform you that the number had called over a dozen people multiple times over the last week. So, you and the Winchesters split up to investigate. Without a car, you stayed in the motel room and called the numbers Sam had forwarded to you posing as a representative of the phone company. One of the people you’d spoken to said that he’d been hearing his deceased brother calling him to reconcile the broken relationship they’d had when his brother passed away. 

Just as you hung up the phone with him, Dean burst into the room and immediately started pacing. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Dean didn’t answer. 

Sam sat at the table in the room. “He said our dad called him.”

“No fucking way,” you breathed out. “You really think it was him?”

“I don't know, maybe,” Dean grunted. 

“Well, what did he sound like?” Sam asked. 

“Like Oprah!” the older brother snapped. “Like Dad; he sounded like Dad, what do you think?”

“What did he say?” you questioned. 

“My name,” Dean replied. 

“That’s it?” Sam pressed. 

“Call dropped out.”

You shook your head and folded your arms, sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed. After the recent fights with Dean, you’d decided to get a room separate from the two brothers and had been hanging out in their room all day. “Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?”

“I don't know, (Y/N)! I’m not a fucking psychic,” he snarked. “Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?”

You wanted to chew him out for snapping at you like that, but you truly had no energy to put up another fight. 

“Yeah, I guess?” Sam replied in your place. 

“Okay, so what if....” Dean trailed off, only looking at his brother. “What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? What do I say?”

“Hello,” you suggested. 

“Hello?” he scoffed. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. 

“That's what you come back with. Hello?” Dean continued. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” you sneered. 

Dean huffed, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. 

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look and turned to the door to stare after his brother. 

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You picked your head up. 

“What’s happening to you guys?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, tearing up. “We started fighting ‘cause I told him to tell you about the whole ‘Ruby’ thing, and I said some mean shit, and he said some mean shit, and it’s just a mess now.”

Sam gave you another puppy-dog-eyed look. 

“It’ll be fine, though. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

If it was even possible, Sam’s face dropped even further. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled lopsidedly, knowing he just didn’t know how to help. “Can we talk about something other than my boy drama?”

Sam nodded. “Sure.” 

***

For the next few hours, you scoured the internet for information on the “SHA33” number that was calling these poor people. 

Dean returned with caustic remarks to spare. “Find anything?” he asked Sam while pretty much blatantly ignoring you. 

“After three hours, I’ve found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here,” Sam sighed, shutting his laptop. 

“Me neither, Dean, thanks for asking,” you said. 

“Well, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero-point-zero would produce better results than that,” Dean scoffed at Sam.

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, hoping to elicit some sort of a response from Dean. 

He shot you a glare, but other than that, he said nothing. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet. “Motel pamphlet rack.” He dropped it on the coffee table along with a few books. “Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison.”

“So what?” you asked. 

Sam grabbed a book and leafed through it. 

Dean just raised his eyebrows at you as Sam looked up from the book. 

“You're kidding,” he said. 

Dean smirked as his brother. 

***

Well, a huge waste of time was the only thing Dean’s suggestion led to. The tour you went on at a museum showed the invention Thomas Edison believed could communicate with spirits and informed you that he was a devout occultist. However, the “spirit phone” didn’t set off the EMF detector. 

Sleep refused to claim you. Your anxiety kept your mind racing through the long hours of the night. You sat at the table in your room staring at the door just waiting for Dean to knock. However, despite it being three in the morning, he hadn’t come yet. Your fights had all been stupid and petty, but both of you were too stubborn to be the first to admit fault. 

And with each passing night, you could feel the clock ticking. You knew Dean was running out of time, and you just wanted him to hold you again. As the sun rose, your heart sank knowing he hadn’t come to make things right with you. 

You stayed in your room upset until Sam called you to come over to theirs. 

“What’s up?” you asked upon entering. 

“That girl Lanie—” Sam was referring to the victim he’d spoken to— “her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.”

“That sucks,” said Dean, typing furiously on his laptop. 

“What… are you doing, Dean?” you asked hesitantly. 

He looked at you briefly; the expression on his face confusing. He looked back down at his computer. “I think my dad’s right. I think the demon is here. Check it out.” He handed you some papers and dug around in his bag. 

“What is this, weather reports?” you asked, leafing through the papers.

“Omens. Demonic omens,” he responded. “Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.”

Trepidatiously, you said, “I don't remember any lightning storms.”

“Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology, either,” he snapped.

‘So much for us being civil,’ you thought. 

“But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me; wearing some poor dude's meat,” Dean finished. 

Sam took some of the pressure off you. “And it’s following you because…?” he asked. 

“I guess I'm big game, y’know? My ass is too sweet to let outta sight.” Dean threw a wink at you, and you were getting incredibly thrown off by his changing attitude. 

“Okay. Sure,” Sam snorted.

Dean snatched the papers back from you. “Don't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.” He stood from the bed and moved away from you and his brother.

“Dean, look, I wanna believe this man, I really do…”

Dean cut his brother off. “Then believe it! if we get this sucker, it's Miller Time.”

“Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean, not just send it back to hell, but kill it?” Dean’s eyes lit up. “I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century.”

“Dean,” you said softly. “I checked on it, too. So did Sam. So did Bobby.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

Sam jumped in. “Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon.”

“No evidence it can't,” he rebutted. 

“Dean…” you trailed off, not wanting to start a bigger fight. 

“Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to Hell is my dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work,” he snapped. 

“Maybe!” you replied. “I hope so; for your sake. But we gotta be sure.”

“Why aren't we sure?” he asked. 

“’Cause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean!” you cried. “I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits—”

“Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, (Y/N), people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!” he shot back. 

You held his stare venomously. Dean eventually dropped his head in frustration. 

“Dad tell you where to find the demon?” Sam asked carefully. 

“I'm waiting on the call!” he shouted. 

The tension in the room was thick, and you had no idea what to say.

Sam sighed deeply and tried to change the subject. “I told Lanie I'd stop by.”

Dean scoffed. “Oh, good, yeah. No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, y’know, save my life.”

Sam shook his head and turned to the door. You just stared at the floor. 

“You two are unbelievable, y’know that?” Dean shouted. “I mean, for months, we’ve been tryin’ to break this demon deal. Now, Dad’s about to give us the fuckin’ address, and you blink? The man is dead, and you’re still butting heads with the guy?!” He turned his attention to you. “And you? What happened to us? What happened to your ‘unconditional support’?”

“Dean, you still have it!” you replied. “That was never in question! What I’m questioning is where your fuckin’ head’s at. Because this is not you.”

“Oh, god.” He rolled his eyes and began to pace. 

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began, anger boiling to the surface. “This is fuckin’ crazy. I mean, there is no proof. At all. All you’re acting on is blind faith.”

“Yeah, well, maybe!” He shouted back. “Y’know, maybe that's all I got, okay?”

You held his stare, the anger melting out of you at his words. When you could see tears forming in his eyes, he looked at the floor. 

Sam piped up. “Please. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Dean? Please.” 

Dean stayed silent. 

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Sam urged you. 

You looked up at Dean. For the first time that week, he offered you a kind word. “Go. It’s okay.”

You nodded. As you turned to go, you stared over your shoulder back at Dean. 

***

At Lanie’s house, the young girl got you up to speed on what happened to her the night before. 

“Have you told your father about any of this?” Sam asked her.

“And bother him at work?” she replied. “No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy.”

“So what did your mother say?” you asked. 

“She wanted to see me. So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery,” she sniffled. 

“Did you?” Sam prompted. 

Lanie nodded meekly. “Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things.”

“What sort of things?”

She almost seemed embarrassed to say. “Bad things.”

You crouched down and looked up at her, breaking her gaze from the floor. “Lanie, please. Can you tell me what happened? It’s very important.”

She teared up, young eyes swimming in fear and sadness. “Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet.”

You waited patiently for her to continue. 

“She wanted me to take his sleeping pills.” She stopped for a minute to gather her courage. “Take all of his sleeping pills.”

“She wanted you to kill yourself?” Sam couldn’t help himself from saying. 

She nodded, crying harder. “Why would my Mom want me to do that?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know.”

“She just kept saying, ‘come to me,’ like, a million times,” she hiccuped. 

Your eyes widened. “Oh, sweet girl, that's not your mother.” You stood from the ground. 

Sam told Lanie, “Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, alright?”

You started down the stairs and listened carefully; just one set of footsteps was following you. You turned back to see Lanie still at the top of the stairs. “You okay?”

Her breathing was quick. “Where's Simon?”

“Simon?” you asked. 

“My little brother,” she responded. 

The next thing you knew, you were watching Sam shove the little boy out of the way of a speeding truck from the porch of Lanie’s house. 

Immediately, you called Dean. “Dean, it’s not your dad,” you rushed out. 

“Then what is it, (Y/N)?” he asked flippantly. 

“A crocotta,” you answered. 

“What is that, a sandwich?” he scoffed. 

“They typically live in filth. Mimic loved ones. Whisper, ‘Come to me,’ then lure you into the dark and swallow your soul,” you stated. 

Sam motioned for you to head to his rental car as soon as he delivered Simon to his sister safely. You followed quickly. 

“A crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense,” he snarkily replied. 

“Dean, c’mon, babe—”

He cut you off. “Hey, don't these things live in filth?”

“Yeah,” you replied. 

“Oh, god, at the phone company there were these flies. Pretty much as soon as we got down to the basement where this guy Stewie was hangin’ out,” he rushed out. 

“Okay, uh, okay,” you nodded. “Meet us there.”

You brought Sam up to speed on the conversation you’d had with Dean, and as night fell, he sped to the phone company. 

***

Despite calling Dean several times, you and Sam had to keep moving forward with the case. You watched as the man Sam described to you as Stewie unlocked his car. Silently, you rushed him with a metal spike. You shoved him down onto the car and held a metal spike to the back of his neck.

Stewie grunted. “What the hell?!”

“I know what you are,” you spat. “And I know how to kill you.”

“Wait, wait— Please! If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I- I can fix that. I am your friend!” he stammered. 

Confusion overtook you, and you turned to an equally confused Sam. You suddenly noticed a man standing behind him with a bat. “Sam, look out!” you cried. 

But it was too late. He was hit over the head with a bat, and you released the man in front of you. You threw your spike at him, but he caught it just before it hit him. He stalked toward you, and the man smiled widely. The man you’d been holding down shoved you to the ground from behind, and you were knocked out, too.

***

When you next came to, your wrists and feet were bound; that was the first thing you felt. Your head pounded, and your wrists ached from how tight the bindings were. When you opened your eyes, you turned your head to see Stewie was dead and bleeding profusely from his chest. 

You shrieked in horror, and then, the man who’d knocked you out appeared in front of you. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” you snarled.

He just laughed mockingly as he stalked between you and Sam. 

You realized something. “My last call with Dean. That was you. You led us here.”

“Some calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap,” he chuckled. He moved over to a telephone exchange cabinet and sighed in ecstasy. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. 

“I’m killing your brother,” he smiled. “Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes.”

***

The creature removed the knife from the chest of the man beside you. You grimaced at the wet squelching sound it made as he did. 

“Y’know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my Dad?” Sam complimented mockingly. “That's a hell of a trick.”

“Well, once I made you two as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers. Then, emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked,” the creature grinned. 

“Dean’s not an idiot,” you stated sharply. “He’s not gonna kill that guy.”

“Then the guy kills him,” he shrugged. “And I kill you two. And here I thought I was only getting one hunter.” He stalked toward you, and you struggled harder. “Now, I’ve got another. And a pretty one, at that.”

You reared back and spat in his face. Almost like a reflex, he immediately backslapped you. 

Unfazed, your head returned to a neutral position and you just glared at him. 

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, tracing the knife down your cheek. “Technology. Makes life so much easier. Used to be, I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone.”

Just as the man’s jaw unhinged like a snake to reveal rows of teeth, Sam came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck in a chokehold. You sat patiently while Sam and the crocatta struggled for the knife. You watched both men slam each other into various surfaces until they disappeared from view. 

You couldn’t do anything to help yourself, and you anxiously waited for— hopefully— Sam’s return into the room. 

Much to your relief, Sam stumbled back in minutes later. You grinned up at him happily.

***

You were the one to drive Sam’s rental car back to the motel seeing as he was injured and sore from his fight with the monster. You went at least twenty miles-an-hour over the speed limit for the entirety of the drive. 

You burst into Sam and Dean’s room, and you began to panic when you didn’t see him there. 

Then, you checked your room, breathing out in relief when you saw Dean holding a wash cloth to his eye. “Dean!” You ran to him, kneeling down in front of him.

He looked up at you, and you immediately kissed him passionately. He returned your kiss eagerly. When you broke away from him, you took the cloth from Dean’s hands gently to help him clean the wound.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “I— I’m so sorry.”

You placed your free hand on his knee. “We’ll talk in a minute, alright? Let me clean you up first.”

He nodded. 

***

“There,” you told him having placed the final bandage on his assortment of cuts. “That guy kicked the shit out of you.” Although Dean would normally laugh at jokes like that, his countenance was completely serious. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

“I know,” you said softly. “I am, too.”

“I just— I lashed out, and that wasn’t fair to you. You were right,” Dean admitted. “It scares me how well you can fuckin’ read me. And with everything going on, I just—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. “I’m sorry, too. I was being petty. I got mean, too.” You paused for a moment. “I’m sorry it wasn’t really your dad.”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Naw, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.” He huffed. “I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just…” he trailed off, unable to finish. 

Your eyebrows scrunched sadly, and your eyelashes flickered. 

“I’m scared, sweetheart. I’m… I’m really scared.” As tears pooled in his eyes, he couldn’t seem to meet yours. 

You nodded, tearing up as well. “I know.”

“I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man,” he tried to joke through his stifled cries. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with having hope, Dee,” you told him gently. 

“Hope doesn't get you jack squat,” he scoffed. “I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, y’know? I mean, the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.”

“And I’m right there with you,” you told him. “Every step of the way. To Hell and back.”

Dean offered a lopsided smile. “To Hell and back.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[miriadalia]

Alright so, by now in part 2 we have:

People flying to the other side of the globe faster than Flash and with no jetlag consequences apparently 🙄

Robby being SA but everyone treating this as some kind of infidelity or fling (even him, wtf??)

Demetri being unfaithful to his girlfriend (though I was not exactly surprised by this 🙄) Yasmine you deserve better gurl...

Spanish team representation being SO WRONG. And I know because I'm Spanish: we don't say "Ándale" like they were saying when hyping Diego before his fight. That's a Mexican word 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ and Maria's surname should have been Álvarez and not Àlvarez, we don't have this accent (`) in Spanish. Please it's really not that difficult to make accurate representations... Especially because THEY WENT TO FREAKING SPAIN!!! Study a little bit for goodness sake!

Korean Cobra Kais being 2D bad guys that apparently don't have any more personality than being violent and ruining everything for Miyagi Do. Seems like only Americans are allowed to have a complex backstory and profound motivations to win. Like: even Axel got the "abused athlete" foreshadow... and he literally had 2 lines of dialogue.

Speaking of Axel, my guy really fell head over heels for Sam in 2 seconds like... That is some other level of crushing here 😳 creepy...

And speaking of the Korean team: wasn't Kwon like the outcast rebel of his class? Now why is everyone suddenly super friendly with him?? Especially Yoon! What happened? Because I understand they respect him now as he earned his place as captain (violently ofc). But they were giggling all over the place wtf...

Tory's mindset and trauma after her mother's death being treated SO LIGHTLY that I want to scream 😖😖. Do you think she would really be in the right headspace to argue about "stealing my boyfriend, bitch"?? Haven't you ever lost a loved one?? I have, and let me tell you: you don't have the heart to suffer for anything else than your loss... Especially not after just one or two weeks.

And then she even had to watch a teammate fucking DIE right before her eyes. Thank you writers for another trauma🤮🤮

And of course, we arrive to Kwon's death... Listen, I don't have anything else to comment rather than: yes, some people are such psychopaths that can't even see how their actions may result in hurting themselves, and they decided to make Kwon a lost cause (I get it, would have preferred some backstory scenes of him to fully understand it, but I get it).

What I don't understand and really gets on my nerves is how ridiculously stupid the reason of the brawl was in the first place. Are you telling me there was not a single sensei apart from Daniel, Johnny and Chozen that would have stopped the fight?? They were like: fuck, yeah, let's allow these kids to fight until they get seriously injured. Let them run up the stairs and kick each other as if they were made of rubber and they wouldn't die if they fall.........

I know that in the professional sports' world there's so much competition and substance use. And that was realistic. But it's teens we are talking about. Really anyone had a good sensei??? Anyone?

Because if that's how it is then I don't see how Cobra Kai might end in part 3 other than banning karate in every country.

That's all for now...

I was really enjoying the season until the end of episode 7 or something...

I hate it when the shock factor wins over the emotional and coherent plot...

That "strategy" has ruined so many good series, and now I don't really feel like watching part 3 😔

[melgolbach]

A Long Day | Sam Golbach

A/N: atp my whole blog is becoming a Sam golbach dedication page [gif is made by me]

It was about 11:00 when you got home. Your head was on the steering wheel, you smelt of your job and most of your sweat. You sat like that for ten minutes, before moving and grabbing your personal belongings and getting out of your car and locking it. You sometimes wished you were an influencer like your boyfriend, Sam.

Once you opened the shared apartment of yours, Sam’s, and Colby’s, you heard Sam’s rushing footsteps from the stairs. “Baby I’ve missed you,” he whined, crushing you while you stood there dead. “I’ve missed you too,” you croaked. “It was hell. All hell today. All I want to do is relax and take this ugly stupid uniform off,” you choke out.

“Crappy day?” You hear Colby ask from the kitchen, as soon as you emerge from the hallway, Colby’s eyes widened. “Crappy day…” he whispered to himself. “Black Friday is hell. I think I might quit.” You wail, “you should,” Sam sung out. “You know me and Colby make the most money out of you, there’s no reason you should be working a retail job.” He finished, “I explained to you why I should work though,” Colby looked up from the sandwich he made. “But why should you work?” He asked.

You take a sip from your water before you spoke, “I feel the need to repay you both for letting me live with you guys. Plus, I buy the groceries, and I need my job to buy groceries for us.” You hum, Sam smirked just so slightly but you saw it, “what was that?” You asked him. “Actually…” he coughed out, “I buy the groceries.”

“No you don’t. I do.” Sam shook his head again, “do you ever check your card to see which one you’re using?” He asked. Your eyebrows furrowed. You looked into your purse pocket, and grabbed out your card. “It has my name on it? I’m paying for the groceries.” Sam tch’d, “it might have your name on it, but it’s under my money. I got another card back a while ago for you, you really don’t need to repay us anything you know. You’re my girlfriend, I’m the one who’s supposed to be buying things.” Your jaw dropped.

Your eyes looked back to the card again, looking at it closely this time. It definitely looked like your card, but the numbers definitely didn’t match up with your actual card. “When did you do this? Sam, this feels- illegal?” You question, handing the card to him but he doesn’t even want to take it. “Baby, you work hard every single day. You deserve your money. Colby and I, we’re YouTubers who gets millions of views just for our content and ourselves honestly. You deserve the money you get to not be wasted on us.” Your eyes start to water, Colby awe’s, and Sam does after him. “Come on, let’s get you all relaxed and we can go to sleep later.”

“I really don’t deserve you,” you whispered, walking up the stairs before Sam as he rubbed your back. “I deserve you as much as you deserve me. You and I are like two peas in a pod. We can’t get rid of each other even if we tried,” Sam spoke. You smiled, walking into the shared room and taking everything off while Sam was getting the bath ready. You let go of your hair, and walked to the bathroom. “The water is extra hot, just how you like it.” He kissed your lips longingly, and then you got into the bath.

You moaned, “mhm, this feels nice.” You heard rustling as your eyes clothed, and you assumed its Sam also taking off his clothes to get into the bath with you. You scoot over, and he sits behind you. You relaxed into him, your body slowly sinking. “Can we just stay like this forever?” You asked, looking up at him as you kissed his jaw line. “We’d be all wrinkly.!!” Sam chuckled out, “oh that’s true..” you nodded.

The two of you stayed in the bath for twenty minutes, before that cleaning yourselves obviously. Sam got up first, grabbing two towels. One for you, and one for him. “It’s freezing in here,” you yawned. “We are in the bathroom, it usually is the coldest place in the apartment.” All you do was nod, to tired to talk.

You both get dressed into pajamas, do your night routine, and then finally hop in bed with one little night light besides your bedside. You cuddle into Sam as his arm wraps around you. “Mmhm, just think about it.” He spoke. You already know what he’s talking about, “Colby and I make more than enough and we’re happy to share with you, or at least I am. Quit your job, your managers AND boss suck. Let me spoil you even more than I do now,” he whined out.

You chuckle just a little bit, “I’ll think about it.” You can feel him grin. “I love you I love you I love you I love you—,” he keeps repeating the words, his lips all over your skin that he could reach. You giggle from this, squirming from his touch. “I said I’ll think about it that answer wasn’t a yes,” you reminded him. “But it wasn’t a no like all the other times,” you nod in agreement. “I guess that’s true.”

“Alright, let’s head to bed.. it’s almost 1 in the morning.” You groan, “I gotta be there at 8:30 tomorrow.” Sam gagged, “seriously baby, just quit. Call in sick, then ghost them, and then just never go into work again and never go to that shop. If you do ever need some type of cute clothing from there I’ll go get it as soon as you tell me too,” he rambles on and on, and you laugh at his response from the time you told him you needed to wake up.

“Sam?” You hum out, “im going to bed. I love you,” you close your eyes. His rambling stops, and he smiles as his eyes closes. “I love you too, goodnight sweetheart.” He kisses your head, and silence fills the room.

[imagining-supernatural]

Save Us

Request: Heyyyyoooo! Could you maybe do a dean x reader where she’s always been the rock in the relationship, even tho he’s not that emotional either, but she’s just literally never upset or seems sad, but one day she has a nightmare and then that just kind of starts the ball rolling and she just kinda finally needs dean and he’s there and comforts her?

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2428

-----

“We’ll be home in about an hour,” Dean’s tired, flat voice tumbled through your phone speaker.

“Hunt didn’t go well, I take it?”

“We got the ghost,” he sighed heavily. “But not before it got some more kids.”

Years and years of being just too late definitely took a toll on hunters. Dean grew up in the life, so it was his normal. But even though he constantly said it wasn’t a big deal, or he was used to it, you knew it was a lie. He needed his downtime. He needed comfort. And beyond his need for that reassurance, he deserved it.

“I’m so sorry, babe.” It was so hard to hear him so down when you couldn’t hold him. “How’s Sam doing? Think you can convince him to take the weekend off and not look for another hunt?”

There was a low murmur on the other end of the call while Dean spoke with Sam. A moment later, you were put on speakerphone, the background noise of the car becoming louder.

“How’s your leg?” Sam asked.

“I think it’s almost all the way healed. If you keep your laptop shut for the weekend, I should be able to come on the next hunt.”

Sam chuckled. “Fine, fine. Radio silent weekend.”

With that out of the way, you said your farewells and hung up.

Your leg was perfectly fine. The fracture was healed and you’d been working out on it for the last few days while the boys finished up a two week long hunting spree across the country. But using your leg as an excuse gave Dean the space to not feel like this break was because of him. He hated being the reason you all took a few days off. He hated feeling like the weak link.

So you let him think he was doing this for you, when in all actuality, you would be spending the weekend building him back up, getting his confidence and mental strength back to their normal levels.

*****

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, his voice echoing across the warehouse. After cutting down the Djinn’s victim, you transferred her to Sam’s arms before setting off in search of your boyfriend.

The Djinn had gotten away and all three of you were feeling the disappointment and failure. But after the last few hunts had gone awry, you knew that Dean was teetering on the edge. Hell, you all were, but he took it particularly hard. He always felt responsible for everything that went wrong. And when everything went wrong for a solid four weeks in a row? Well… nothing you could say to him would be heard over the spearing self-hatred that was surely chorusing in his head right now.

“Babe?” It was probably best to announce your presence before touching him. You knew he wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, and you could definitely handle yourself, but you’d rather not have to dodge his pent up swing and add that to his guilt that he nearly hit his girlfriend. “Hey, Dean. C’mere.”

He shook his head, hand pressed against the wall, head hung low. “He got away, Y/N. I had him right here.”

“We’ll get him, Dean.” Padding over softly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. It didn’t matter that his shirt was damp with sweat. It didn’t matter that you had blood spattered on your cheek. All that mattered was that Dean knew that you were there for him. “Maybe not tonight, but we’ll get him.”

You could hear Sam talking softly to the two victims you’d saved, but chose to stay with Dean. Sam knew what he was doing. You and he had a lot in common when it came to dealing with failure. And right now, Sam had a job, so he would be able to make it until he was alone, or until the three of you collapsed in the hotel room.

Dean however…

His breathing was slowing and heartbeat quieting under your ear. When he took one, last deep breath and straightened out, you loosened your hold around him, but didn’t let go. As soon as Dean turned around, you hugged him close again, breathing a sigh of relief when his arms surrounded you and his nose nudged into your hair, breathing deeply.

He was going to be okay.

*****

“I’m sure it’s just a cold,” you said through a stuffy nose, buried in blankets on your bed. “You two go. I’ll be fine for the weekend.”

Dean took a step forward and you held up your hand to ward him off. You didn’t want him getting sick too. “I don’t mind staying here with you, Y/N.”

“And leave Sam alone? Last time you did that, he ended up taking off for a few days to see some author read her book for hours on end. The kid needs you, Dean. Who else will pull him from his geeky ways?”

“I think my sick girlfriend needs me too.”

“All that’d do is get you sick too. I’ll just take it easy for a few days, watch some Netflix, take some baths, eat some soup… I appreciate it, Dean. But I don’t want you to get sick.”

He sighed, giving in. “Alright. Fine. But I’m gonna be checking in so often it’ll feel like I never left.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As he came closer, you knew it was pointless to try to get him to stay away. He wouldn’t leave without a kiss, even if it was just on the forehead. And, to be honest, you wouldn’t want him too. Looking up into his shining eyes, you gave him a weak smile. “Love you, Dean.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”

You watched as he closed the door behind him before you sank back down into the pillows. It wasn’t even half an hour later that your chills turned to shakes and you barely made it to the toilet before upheaving the light breakfast you’d been nibbling on. With your head in the toilet bowl, you didn’t hear the squeal of the garage door opening or the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. It was the fingers on your head, pulling your hair back from your face that would have made you jump if you’d had the energy.

“Dean?”

“I’m here, babe.”

“What about—”

“Sam called Charlie. She’ll meet him down in Georgia. I couldn’t leave my best girl alone while she was sick, so I just ran into town for a quick supply run.” Once he had all of your hair in a messy bun in his hand, he settled onto the floor next to you. “And I don’t want to hear anything about me getting sick.”

“’m glad you’re here.” Getting through a cold alone wasn’t a big deal. But when it suddenly became the flu?

The porcelain of the toilet was cold against your cheek; a stark contrast to the heat in your cheek. For nearly fifteen minutes, you sat there on the floor with Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. When you puked all you had left to puke, you sat back against the wall with a sheen of sweat across your forehead. “Why can I keep fighting after literally getting shot in the leg, but a stupid virus knocks me out?”

Dean chuckled beside you, reaching up to fill a cup with water. “As badass as you are, sweetheart, you’re still human. Here, swish and spit.”

Just the slight movement it took to sit up and spit into the toilet upset your fragile equilibrium and triggered more dry heaving.

It was going to be a long few days.

*****

“Dean! Over there!” you shouted, pointing at the ghost that appeared behind Sam, who immediately dropped so Dean could shoot the phantom with rock salt.

Once the ghost disappeared momentarily, Sam resumed digging the grave. The pile of dirt seemed to grow and grow and grow, but the hole didn’t get any deeper. “Sam, hurry up!!”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” he gritted out, throwing another shovel of dirt on the pile that was now nearly as tall as him.

Three small kids ran out from behind the dirt pile just as your breaths started coming out in cloudy puffs. It seemed like your body was paralyzed. You tried to run to the kids, but couldn’t move as the ghost advanced on them instead. Desperate, you called out to Dean, trying to get him to shoot rock salt at the ghost for a brief reprieve.

But he didn’t respond.

“Dean!” You tried calling out again, again receiving no response.

The tell-tale sound of a shovel hitting a casket pulled you from your paralysis and you found that you could move again. Hinges creaked and you looked down in the hole that seemed to be a mile deep as Sam opened the casket. “Toss me the fuel and salt, Y/N!”

The fuel… the fuel… where the hell is the fuel? You looked all around you for the duffle bag that you swore was right next to you just moments ago only to see a patch of grass. The green grass shriveled into dusty brown specks before your eyes.

“Y/N!” Sam’s shout came again, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the grass particles that were carried away by the wind.

Suddenly, the three kids were right in front of you. Blood dripped down their faces and they spoke in concert: “You didn’t save us. Why didn’t you save us, Y/N?”

“No… no!” Backing away from the awful scene, you tripped and fell backwards, arms reeling as the grave Sam had just dug stretched into a seemingly never-ending fun house mirror effect. Children’s faces watched you from behind the mirrors, angry frowns morphing into chilling grins, damning you for your failures. Their deaths were on you. Further and further you fell, some unknown force pulling you towards purgatory.

Then you were standing in an old motel room. You gasped for air, doubling over. Equilibrium should have returned, but it was as if you were on a merry-go-round and the world wouldn’t stop tilting.

“Y/N.” Dean’s voice normally grounded you. But now? His deep rasp reached into your body and gripped your throat. Your air supply was cut off so suddenly that you couldn’t even gasp for breath. Those green eyes you loved so much glared daggers at you. “They died because of you. It’s all your fault.”

*****

“Stop it!” You shouted, waking yourself.

Dean’s head shot up from where he was bent over a laptop on the desk. “Whoa, Y/N.” As your chest heaved, struggling for breath, Dean hurried over. He immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Baby, you’re okay. It was just a dream.”

You shook your head. “No, no it’s–”  You cut yourself off and forced a deep breath in. Sure, the events were a dream, but the words? They were true. They were true, and they caught up to you. You’d spent so long shoving aside reality and focusing on the brothers and what they needed. What Dean needed.

Dean.

He didn’t need to deal with this. As soon as you could, you would fortify yourself again and push it all away. You’d be back to good again.

Another deep breath and you shook your head again, this time to clear your mind. “Just a dream,” you whispered, repeating his words. “Just a dream.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Just a dream.”

You focused on Dean’s hand moving over your arm, drawing comfort from the familiar action. When you felt calm enough, you looked up at Dean, intending to thank him. But he took one look at your eyes and his brow furrowed.

“Sweetheart?”

“It was just a dream, Dean. I’m fine. I just… It’s the life, right?”

Calloused fingers trailed down your cheek and Dean brought his forehead to hers. “Sure, sweetheart. But that doesn’t mean nightmares don’t get to us.”

“They don’t get to you,” you whispered.

He sighed, breath disturbing the air between them. “Baby, they do. But I’ve got you. I get to wake up next to you and I remember that whatever the hell I’ve gone through and whatever I’ve fucked up in my life, somehow I’ve managed to do something right enough that you love me.”

“I do love you,” you murmured.

“Whatever your nightmare was about, whatever was said… Baby that’s not real. I love you. And that’s fucking real.”

For a long moment you sat in silence, just taking in the warmth and affection from Dean. Then you cracked a timid smile, taking the first step out of the tailspin that the dream had sent you into. “Since when do you say such pretty words, Dean Winchester?”

“Since the day I fell in love with you. And every damn day that I get to stand by your side and hold your hand and feel how much you love me.” His thumb traced over your cheek bone, drawing your eyes to his. “I don’t need to know the details about your dream. But if I can manage to deserve someone as amazing as you in my life after the shit I’ve done, then you sure as hell deserve sainthood just for putting up with me, not to mention for all of the people you’ve saved.”

“I didn’t save them all, Dean.” Your eyes fell from his as the kids’ faces from your dream flickered across the sheets in front of you.

“Baby, we couldn’t save them all. We tried every damn thing we could. Sometimes, it just isn’t possible.” Dean brushed his lips across your cheek. “You taught me that. Guess it was past time that you got that reminder, huh?”

You gave in and leaned against him, physically and mentally. “Pretty words from a pretty face. How did I get so lucky to have such a great boyfriend?”

“You think I’m pretty?” He smiled. “Cause I think those pretty words came from your pretty face first, sweetheart.”

His nose nudged yours moments before a soft kiss was brushed across your lips like a paintbrush feathering a sunset onto a canvas. The rumble of thunder in Dean’s voice settled you like a comforting weighted blanket. “‘sides, sweetheart… you saved me the moment I met you. If you can save a bastard like me, anything that tells you that you failed can shove it.”

Eyes shining, you fell into his eyes. “We saved each other, Dean.”

“Damn right, we did.”

[2kverrr]

JESSICA RILEY - Dating Headcanons

UNTIL DAWN || Jessica Riley x Reader

she’s your best friend, has been since you were 13, you’d found a similar interest in these ones girls shoes at lunch, disgusting and almost offensive.

at an instant you’d locked eyes and started laughing, since that day you became joined by the hip. all secrets told, all insecurities shared, tips and rumours shared between you two.

you’re not sure when you started feeling things for her, but it only grew.

you loved bleaching her hair for her, helping her put together different outfits, braiding her hair, just being close to her.

you two were open books when alone, so it was the hardest thing you’d ever done, hiding your feelings.

“ugh- why are my- what the fuck.” jess stands in the mirror in your bedroom, messing and fussing with her top. there was nothing wrong with it, she looked completely perfect. you sit down in front of another mirror applying your mascara. “jess, you look like a babe, we’ll only end up getting shit faced and ugly by the end of the night” you smile, looking back at the bleach blonde.

the party was at matts, emily had forced him to host there and he soon obliged, to be quite frank, he was terrified of her.

throughout the house party, jess was conversing with a few different boys, clearly selecting the lucky bunch that would be considered to be her boyfriend for the night.

“ugh they’re all meatheads” jess groans, throwing her self onto the sofa you’re sat on, you’d had a few drinks, measured by josh so you deserved a little sit down (or else you’d literally pass out)

“did you hear me?” jess prods your shoulder, dramatically your roll your head sideways onto her shoulder. “fuck ‘em” you slur with a dopey smile which jess returns.

“sometimes i do wish i was a lesbian, girls are so much nicer. all these boys,” she points across the room, “, think with their dicks, not a single brain cell between them.” and for a moment, in your drunken, delusional state, you physically felt a lightbulb appear above your head.

“i’ll let you be my girlfriend.”

“what? you’ll let me?” she giggles, but all you can do is stare at the joyful wrinkles forming by her half-closed eyes.

you slowly nod your head, eagerly but it felt as though you’re in slow motion, “uh-huh”

as intended, you drunken seduction was successful (you think, you can’t exactly remember that night).

since that silly conversation at midnight in matts house, you’re friendship had changed, you became more like a couple though neither of you established so.

you both assume you’re… dating? whatever it is, you’re perfectly content with it.

anywhere you go your hand is being tightly gripped by the blonde. most the time she doesn’t even realise.

she blatantly refuses to drive. #passengerprincess4life

it’s your usual friendship but with little quirks. kisses on the cheek, hands, lips. a lot more sleepovers. she leaves notes a lot, like a mom would in their child’s lunchbag.

LOTS of wine+gossip sessions. it’s become a friday night staple between the two of you, it always ends up in you both falling asleep on your parents’ couch.

you didn’t really plan on telling any of the group, but the trip up to josh and his sisters’ mountain lodge would make it difficult for you to have any time to yourselves. so jess took it upon herself to announce it once all of the gang were together.

the group were shocked to put it nicely. mike, josh and sam are your biggest fans despite josh’s wandering eyes and perverted mind. emily couldn’t stand seeing jess happy, so it’s was a one up for the blonde.

[worrynoodle]

🥧🍻Contains spoilers for Supernatural ending🍻🥧

I take what I said about the ending back. I've been rewatching and I agree that it wasn't right.

Throughout the entire series, we consistently see Sam and Dean encounter other hunters who usually represent two paths. In this life, you die or go insane ("You either die a hero or you live long enough to become a villain" -The Dark Knight). And of the two options, Sam and Dean seem to have decided that dying is at least better than potentially hurting someone. Neither of them actually believe that because they keep bringing each other back.

But this post is mostly about Dean's ending - death, in the line of duty, by rusty rebar.

During my first watchthrough, I could see - very surface level - that yeah, sure, Dean would want to die that way. Going out saving people, Sammy at his side.

But almost every other time (if not every time) Dean is faced with his own death, he decides he doesn't actually want that. He feels he must. He dies so others can live, that's his job, it's expected. But he would live if he could. When he made the demon deal to get Sam back, he confronts his nightmare self and says he doesn't want to die. He doesn't deserve to die. With the mark of Cain, in the confession booth he tells the priest that he knows he doesn't want to die and that he wants to live and experience life differently.

Dean wants to break away from the expectation that hunters die. Maybe he can't have a "normal" life. But he wants something other than what's expected of him. What God expected of him.

This was supposed to be Team Free Will. This was supposed to be about breaking away from God's Plan. Not dying like the little soldier daddy raised him to be but to become more than that. Break away from the narrative.

In the end, though, Dean is forced to have the death that everyone else planned for him. The self-sacrificing version of himself, other hunters, his dad, God. All the people we as the audience wanted Dean to be free of, to live in spite of - he dies like daddy's blunt little instrument. Cas sacrificed himself to the empty, finding peace in the face of never seeing the love of his existence again, in the face of literal eternal nothingness so that Dean could live and be more than [Dean] thought he could be. He was happy to sacrifice his happiness for Dean's. Just for Dean's life to be cut short the same way Cas died to avoid. (Death because of the work. Death like a soldier in battle.)

All of the times Dean and Sam (and Cas) die and come back to life, all of the people they find who live happily, the family they find together, the love they find, defeating literal God - it all felt like it was building to something more substantial. That they BOTH (*) were going to get something more than they expected - or, rather, resigned themselves to.

And on Sam's end - throughout the show, they show us, surface level and parallel to deans death, that him living a "normal" life without dean is what is expected. He left the life. He left Dad and Dean, went to college, had goals and aspirations, and had a serious girlfriend. His life was laid out for him. Just like death was laid out for Dean. But when push comes to shove, Sam doesn't want to live without Dean. Even when Sam thinks he can do it, like when Dean goes to purgatory, he comes the moment Dean calls and gets back into the life. When Dean dies from the mark, he says so. He was wrong, and he'll do anything to get Dean back. Everybody asks him why he would ever come back when was almost out and he tells them that he actually loves this life. That now he isn't forced into it but chooses it. He doesn't want a life without his brother in it. And that is what he was doomed to suffer. By the end of the series, I don't think Sam would have just let go like that.

Chuck said one brother had to kill the other. In other words, one lives, one dies. And that's what happened.

*I wasnt going to but now I am. Let's talk about Cas too! Through the show Cas dies again and again and again. God hates the disobedient angel with a crack in his chassis who fell in love with a man. God kills him. God wants him out of the picture but he won't go. He can't go. The story falls apart without him in it. Dean falls apart without him. But somehow his death is considered a good ending for him (good story telling wise, externally)? That confessing his love was enough? That dying in place of Dean was where he wanted to be? Sure, he was happy but it came at the price of that very happiness. It was had and taken in a moment. He was destined to die by God and that's what happened. (And we are supposed to believe that Dean just... lives on, cuddlin his dog and eatin' pie like he's not wrecked? That every other time Cas dies he falls apart but this time when Cas dies, they defeat God and true happiness is supposedly possible now - Dean would just give up? That he wouldn't try to get him back? Especially after a love confession? That just doesn't make sense to me.

My theory is that there's more to the ending than we know. That they did intentionally wrap it up there, that you can take it or leave it. But it leaves you wanting, leaves just enough questions unanswered that if they were to do a revival there's things they can do with the story.

Tl:dr: for a show about breaking away from the narrative, choosing free will, and not being held back by expectations, the ending really didn't fit well and let us down. IN MY PERSONAL OPINION

[wekiamo]

still love you pt. 2

heyy finally part 2! 😭 sorry for the wait. anyways i’m glad y’all like the fic! reblogs are appreciated and requests are totally welcome!

warnings: swearing, murdering, stabbing, blood, fluff! if something’s missing tell me in the comments

you screamed.

“[NAME], NO!” tara screamed even louder than you did. she started to cry even more. you couldn’t die, you and sam were one of the most important things in her life. you were always there for her and she was always there for you, you both had some kind of sister connection. you always had so much fun, you loved deep conversations - actually, you loved anything that made you spend more time with each other. you could never lose her and she could never lose you. was she losing you right now? that’s one thing she would NEVER want in her life, ever.

while tara was still screaming for your name, denying that you were dead, sam had covered her mouth and started sobbing. sam couldn’t even think of ever losing you, that she’d panic. she can’t imagine a life without your jokes, without cooking a new recipe with you every day with the same playlist going on, without crying on your shoulder and you crying on hers, without holding hands with you everytime she gets nervous.

“her screams were way better than i thought, i bet you had your fun, huh? great job, son” bailey praised as ethan came back from the dark room, alone.

ethan nodded and smirked in response.

“we were having a little fun. wanna join?” quinn asked, walking to stand beside sam and tara so he could see them - sam with blood in her arms and tara with blood in her cheeks.

“no thanks, i think we’ve had fun enough, haven’t we?” the tall boy looked at his father, then his sister, making bailey nod - quinn was not satisfied at all, she wanted to tease and hurt them more before actually killing them, but she tilted her head in agreement.

“so, tara” bailey started, walking towards the girl whose expression was totally readable - a mixed feeling of anger and sadness. “how do you want to die? would you rather get stabbed in the mouth, the neck, the eye-“

“fuck you” she said almost whispering between sobs.

“oh you liked the last option, tara? wanna be stabbed in the eye?” he chuckled. “fine”.

tara could not stop crying. it was just all too much for her.

“what about you, sam? how do you want to die?” quinn looked at the girl, tilting her head

she didn’t respond, she only stared. she looked at each one of them, starting with tara, then bailey, then quinn, and stopped at ethan.

“motherfucker you don’t even have the RIGHT to ignore my questions” quinn yelled at sam then slapped her hard.

oh how sam wanted to jump on her and make her scream so loudly that anyone in this city could hear, but she couldn’t. not right now. sam was getting more and more out of control - if she could get away with this situation, she’d kill them, ALL OF THEM, brutally.

“how do you think it was to get a phone call and acknowledge that my son was fucking murdered? huh?” bailey grabbed sam by her neck roughly, making the girl unable to breathe “he died in YOUR hands. now you’re going to fucking pay for this and for all we’ve suffered” he got his hands off of her

“he was crazy, him and his pathetic girlfriend went on a killing spree because of a FUCKING MOVIE. he was so useless he didn’t even get to kill more than one person ” sam laughed “he deserved to die. but you guys are all insane too, just like him”

“ENOUGH” quinn raised her arm with her knife, about to stab sam’s neck when you stepped in

“get the fuck away from her. NOW” you said, pointing a gun to her, holding it with both of your hands. you were far from them.

“what the fuck?” ethan turned to you, looking genuinely confused.

“[name], you’re alive!” tara said with a tone of relief in a slight grin, unable to completely smile due to what’s happening now

“you’re just like your brother, aren’t you,you little shit?” sam asked not waiting for a response, looking at ethan “thank god you’re alive, [name]. you’re just in time” she continued

“what the fuck is happening here, isn’t she supposed to be dea- HEY” tara took the knife out of quinn’s hands and grabbed her by the shoulder, stabbing her in the chest. “what happened quinn? why so quiet, bitch?” tara teased. “i’m gonna fuck you up” quinn said, falling down to the floor quickly.

“weapons down, bailey” now you were pointing the gun to him

sam was gone. you didn’t mind where she was going, because you knew well she was coming back for her revenge.

you were now getting closer and closer to bailey, gun still pointed at him. “lost another poor little baby, didn’t you?” bailey’s face was covered in fear, and he didn’t know what to do now. “how sad is that?” you teased him, pouting your lips

“you’re going to pay for everything. first richie and then quinn? double the price now” he said, looking obviously furious by seeing another child of him get killed, but this time right in front of him. that made him even more angry

“oh, am i? how?”

“behind you, kid”

you did not even turn to see what was going on behind you, but you could hear someone’s steps getting closer and closer.

bailey started smiling like a crazy psychopath. well, he was one. “it’s over for you now” he said, and you turned your head to see someone in a ghostface costume standing beside you.

“no, i think its over for you.”

“what-”

in no time, he was getting stabbed everywhere. arms, legs, chest…

repeatedly. and he didn’t stop screaming in pain. he was screaming like a fucking baby. not he knows what it feels like to be stabbed in his own skin. that goes on for almost a whole minute.

until it stops. and the person in the ghostface costume unmasks - sam.

“my dad is a serial killer. but you know, i’m better than this”

“thank you, thank you” bailey, still alive somehow, thanked sam with blood visible all over his body. it even made you pity him for a second, seeing him all bloody.

tara was now standing beside you too. she gave sam a look you didn’t really understand at first, then tilted her head.

“i think you liked that last option more than tara did” sam said before stabbing him in the eye. now you understood. she got her revenge, once again. she had a relieved look in her face, and you did too.

“cool” tara said with a slight grin, once again.

suddenly, quinn got up and started running in your direction. you quickly turned to ethan and threw your gun at his hands, and

ethan shot quinn in the head.

“aw man, i wanted to do it this time again” tara said in frustration, remembering how she shot amber

“ethan, you’re with us?”

“yes, and i’m so sorry for everything - i was forced to do everything and i tried to convince them not to do any of this, but it wasn’t my choice.” the boy said, frowning “please trust me”

sam and tara looked at each other, then they looked at you”

“i guess it’s true girls, we can trust him”

ethan smiled softly, getting closer to the three of you.

“why did you kill anika? and chad? you could’ve told quinn and bailey you didn’t get to kill anika and chad, and let them go” tara said still mad and untrustful of him

“i didn’t kill anika. that was my dad, and again, im very sorry. about chad, i dont think he’s dead. i was very careful with the knife”

“are you sure?”

“yes. we can go look for him”

“you’re not the ethan we know. where’s the super awkward ‘am i gonna die a virgin’ weirdo?” sam asked and they all laughed.

you looked at him, he looked down at you.

he grabbed you by the chin and leaned in to kiss you. it was passionate and genuine. you felt comfortable in his touch and started playing with his perfect curly hair - someting you knew he loved - and still seems to love.

“i love you, [name]. i’m sorry you had to go through all of this”

“i love you too ethan” you said, kissing him back.

“ew. anyways, let’s go and look for chad!” tara said, and sam followed.

you and ethan were still kissing. for a moment, you forgot how much of a good kisser he was.

“you’re still good at this” you said, pulling away from the kiss

“i know, honey” he joked, and you both laughed. “now let’s go with them”

[sjsmith56]

Setback

Summary: The rescue of some hostages is complicated by the fact that one of them is the husband of Bucky’s ex-girlfriend; a woman he still hasn’t fully let go of.

Length: 4.5 K

Characters: Bucky, Sam, Fury, Thor, Peter Parker, named OFC, named OMC.

Warnings: Bucky’s PTSD, self-blame, memories of sad times.

Author notes: Not a Bucky happy ever after ending but he does experience some personal growth.

The video that Friday showed on the view screens had been verified as real; a school bus full of children on an outing with their teacher and the principal of their school had been hijacked. Although no one had yet claimed responsibility and there was no ransom demand, the perpetrators had sent it to a local TV station with the ominous message that the lives of everyone on that bus was in jeopardy unless the soon to be released demands were met.

“27 children were on that bus,” said Fury. “Their teacher and their principal were the only adults going with them. It was a field trip to an environmental centre where they were to spend the day learning about pond biology.”

“Has their location been determined?” asked Bucky.

Fury shook his head. “Friday is still working on that. The GPS unit on the school bus was ripped out at the point of interception and left on the side of the road. Overflights of the area have not picked up any sign of them and it is believed the bus may either be indoors or underground. Still, I would like everyone on this mission to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. I will keep you updated as we learn more.”

Everyone stood up and began to file out of the briefing room then Bucky was asked to stay behind. He nodded to Sam and approached Fury who sat on the edge of a table at the front of the room.

“Am I on this mission?” he asked.

“You are,” replied Fury, “but there is something you should know first.” He used a remote control to bring up a yearbook picture of the teacher, Travis Dean, an ordinary looking man wearing glasses. “You know this man?”

“No, should I?”

“He’s the husband of Laurie Black.”

Immediately, Bucky’s memories were taken back to two years ago when his relationship with Laurie ended. It hadn’t been anything she did; it was all Bucky who was behind the breakup. During a low point in his emotions, he had convinced himself that she deserved better and proceeded to treat her cruelly, convincing her that he didn’t love her, didn’t need her love or even her friendship. In previous occurrences she had persevered with him, helping him through the destructive emotions but this time he really went overboard. This time, she got the hint and within hours left him for good. As bad as his emotions had been, when he realized she wasn’t coming back he sank even deeper into a depression, immersing himself into weeks of isolation and moping.

“Is she aware of the hijacking?” he asked.

“She is,” answered Fury. “She’s on her way here and wants to see you.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Bucky knew that Fury only told him as a courtesy. She was a private citizen with a stake in the mission. To not see her wasn’t an option.

“Let me know when she arrives,” said Bucky. “I’m going to get ready.”

Sam glanced at Bucky when he entered the locker room, wanting to ask why Fury wanted to speak with the man, but his friend beat him to it.

“The teacher is married to Laurie Black,” he said, in a low voice. “She’s on her way here before we head out.”

“What do you think she wants?” asked Sam.

Bucky didn’t answer because he honestly didn’t know. Their relationship had been good when he was in a good frame of mind. They supported each other, laughed, loved, and enjoyed being together. It was when he was in low spirits that the problems occurred. Laurie was always supportive, giving him space but also encouraging him to fight the demons still within him. Until the last time, when Bucky went too far. He winced as he remembered the last words he said to her.

“Could you stop smothering me for one goddamn minute? Why do you always think I need to be fixed, huh? Why don’t you stick to fixing yourself and leave me alone?”

The look on her face would always stay with him, as her eyes welled up with tears, then she turned away from him and left. Sam had given him a look that said he should go after Laurie but in the mood he was in, Bucky wasn’t about to admit he had gone too far. Instead, he left for the roof, wanting to get away from everyone. When he finally came back down several hours later the others were in the common area. He walked in and no one would make eye contact with him, except Sam.

“Where’s Laurie?” asked Bucky.

“Gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” He began to panic. “Where is she?”

“She packed her bags, dropped off her resignation, ID, and Avengers issued phone and left.” Sam gave him an envelope. “This is for you.”

He looked at the letter in his hand, then returned to his quarters, finding nothing of her was left behind. Gingerly opening the letter, he read the brief message, then crumpled the paper in one hand before punching a hole in the wall.

That had sent him into a deep spiral of blaming himself for pushing her too far. He found Thor’s stash of Asgardian mead, becoming so drunk that Bruce had to knock him out with a drug cocktail that would take down an elephant. It took weeks before he was declared fit for duty.

“Do you want me there?” asked Sam.

Bucky shook his head. “No, I gotta do this alone.”

He went to the armoury and picked out his weapons, loading them into his locker on the quinjet. It was another hour before Laurie arrived, and Bucky was summoned to Fury’s office. He could see her head as she sat with her back to the glass wall. Fury watched him impassively as Bucky approached then stood up before he got to the door, meeting Bucky outside his office.

“You can speak inside. She just wants to see you then she’s leaving.”

With those words, Fury left, and Bucky entered, taking a chair near her. He noticed right away that she was quite pregnant; a development that made him take his breath in sharply.

“Hello Bucky,” said Laurie, not looking at him yet. “I guess this is a surprise to you.”

“When are you due?” he asked.

“Two months,” she answered, looking down at her hands as she crossed them on the mound of her stomach. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Laurie, no.” He shook his head and shifted his chair, so he was closer. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was wrong to expect you to take my shit like that. I was cruel to you, and I knew it. You were right to leave and right to call me out on my behaviour.”

She looked at him, taking in the familiar face; the thick dark hair framing his forehead, with that crease between his eyes. His lashes were still dark, his eyes still that beautiful blue grey shade that made her feel all sorts of things. The sharp cheekbones and defined jaw, with the chin dimple below his soft lips and white teeth were still attractive. The only change in him was the hint of grey in his chin stubble and the underlying sadness in his eyes.

“It just got to be too much,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, Bucky. It hurt too much to hear you say those things to me.”

“I know and I’m so sorry I took my anger with myself out on you. It took a while before I felt up to it, but I did go for more therapy. I’m still in it.”

She nodded, then swallowed. “That’s good. I’m glad for you. I met Travis about a month after I left you. I was still a mess, still very lost and depressed. He was my friend for a long time before we realized that we had become more.” She patted her belly. “I got pregnant two months after we got married. We’re both excited for this baby so I want you to promise me that you’ll do all you can to bring Travis back to me.” Her voice caught as she pleaded with him. “I can’t … I can’t raise this baby by myself, Bucky. I need him. I need you to save him.”

It didn’t escape him that it could have been him who fathered Laurie’s baby. They had talked about it occasionally, as something to aim for in the future. He knew she wanted a family someday and the thoughts of them married, with her pregnant like this, of being present as his child entered the world, of growing old together with a family had been something to dream about.

That it would be another man making that dream a reality for Laurie would always be something he regretted. The thought of not doing all he could to save her husband never occurred to him. For a moment, he felt insulted that she needed to voice this then he watched as she roughly wiped her tears from her cheeks with her hands. Her eyes were reddened and swollen, making him recognize how afraid she actually was for Travis. She wasn’t insulting Bucky; rather she was asking for his help, as an Avenger, as her former lover, and as a man.

“I’ll bring him home to you,” he murmured. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I know you’ll do your best.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asked, unsure of where she lived.

Laurie shook her head. “I took the train here, but I was just going to find a motel and wait there. I couldn’t wait at home.”

“Stay here,” he suggested. “You won’t be alone.” He looked up then and saw Fury outside the office. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Leaving, he closed the door behind him and stood in front of the director.

“We’ve got a location,” said Fury. “Wheel’s up in 5 minutes. Are you two alright?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. She’s afraid for him and wanted my promise to save him. I said she could wait here. Will you watch out for her?”

“Of course. You better get going.”

Quickly, Bucky returned to her and informed her they were ready to go. The only touch between them was him placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. With that as his goodbye, he hurried to the launch pad to board the quinjet. Sam was already in the pilot’s seat with Yelena as copilot. Everyone there nodded to him as he strode up the ramp, taking his place in one of the seats.

By the time they arrived, there had been some developments. The kidnappers had identified themselves and made their demands known. A domestic terrorist group, they wanted some of their own who had been arrested to be released by a certain time. They also demanded $10,000,000 in ransom, payable in Bitcoin, also by a certain time. The hostages would be released only when the payment had been verified. The final part of the demands was displayed, and a collective groan was heard on the quinjet. For every 10 minutes that went past the deadline, a child would be shot in front of their classmates, on a live video broadcast on the internet. The final victims would be the teacher and the principal, forced to watch the slaughter of the innocent lives placed in their care.

When they exited the quinjet the Avengers were met with a contingent of several different agencies; local police, FBI, and military. They wanted to attack the location as a combined force.

“You’ll force their hand,” said Sam. “They’ll start executing some of those kids right away. Are you willing to take that chance? Let us infiltrate the premises. We know what we’re doing.”

They were given one hour to accomplish the task before the highest-ranking officer on site took command. Sam did his best to get more time, but the message was clear. The Avengers would get their shot, then it would be everyone else’s turn. He could hear Fury’s voice in his comms piece to take the offer. As he and Joaquin took up their aerial positions and scanned the interior of the building with their specialized infra-red capabilities, Bucky led the others inside. Splitting up into two groups they followed directions given them by either of the two flyers.

“Hold on,” said Sam, suddenly, at the 15-minute mark. “Something’s going on. One of the adults fought back and ran in the opposite direction.  With the distraction, the other is leading most of the kids down an alternative route and they’re not being followed.  Joaquin, blow a hole in that side of the building and give them an exit route. Team Bravo, follow his directions to support them on their six.”

“How many kids are left, Sam?” asked Bucky, leading Team Alpha.

“Three, straight ahead at the end of the corridor you’re in,” he stated. “You need to hurry. They caught him and are laying a beating on the guy while keeping their guns on the kids.”

With Sam’s description of where the gunmen were located, Bucky sent Scott and Hope into the ventilation system, waiting for their signal that they were in the room. Their task was to protect the kids, enlarging their bodies enough to shield them from any firing. Bucky, Yelena, and Shaun positioned themselves at the door then Sam sent a small rocket into the corner of the roof away from the kids to distract the terrorists. Kicking the door down, the three of them made quick work of the five men inside.

“Hostages secure,” said Bucky as he approached the man on the ground who had been beaten. He wasn’t a big man or terribly muscular, but he had impressed Bucky with his bravery. “Need a medic, ASAP.”

Kneeling, he touched the man’s neck to confirm he was still alive. His eyes opened but he couldn’t focus, and he blinked his eyes several times. Even without his glasses, Bucky recognized him.

“The kids are safe?” he croaked.

“Yeah, they’re okay,” said Bucky, then he gently put his hand on him when the man tried to get up. “Don’t move. Let the medics check you out first. What’s your name?”

“Travis,” he murmured. “They took my glasses. Can’t see too well without them.”

This was the man who helped Laurie after Bucky chased her away and he had just saved most of the kids by putting up a fight. Bucky swallowed then patted him on the chest.

“You did good, Travis,” said Bucky. “You put yourself on the line for those kids. They’re alive because of you.”

The medics arrived and took over from Bucky, assessing Travis’ injuries. Several FBI agents came with them, taking the other children out. The other Avengers entered the space, confirming that all the other hostages were safe and being readied for evacuation.

“We’re just waiting on the teacher’s status,” said Sam, to their inquiries. “Then we’ll help him out to be evacuated.”

“No, he comes back with us,” interrupted Bucky. “His wife is waiting at the compound for him. They took his glasses. Can we find them for him?”

Sam looked at his partner, suddenly understanding who the beaten man was. “Yeah, we can go looking for them.”

He herded everyone out then followed them, leaving Bucky and the medics there. The latter seemed satisfied that Travis hadn’t sustained any serious injuries and gave their okay for him to sit up and stand. Bucky assured the medics the man was in safe hands, and they left. Pulling two chairs over, Bucky offered one to Travis then sat in the other.

“You’re an Avenger?” asked the other man. “What’s your name?”

“Bucky Barnes,” he replied, noticing Travis’ reaction. “You’re Laurie’s husband.”

“Yeah.” There was a long pause. “She came to see you, didn’t she?”

Bucky nodded, then remembered Travis couldn’t see much without his glasses. “Yeah, she did. She asked me to make sure you made it back safely. I promised her.”

Neither spoke for some time then Travis swallowed. “She was really hurting when I met her. By what she told me I figured it was a severe PTSD episode that made you say what you did to her. It took her a long time to get over it and forgive you. Are you better?”

“I am, thank you.” Bucky sighed. “She always came back when I did that to her. Guess I took it for granted that she would that time as well. When she didn’t come back, I didn’t handle it well and it took me a while to accept that I sent away the only woman who had put up with my shit. I’m glad she found you. She loves you very much. It was obvious.”

“She loved you, too. That’s why it took her so long to get over you.”

“Found them,” said Peter, as he walked in the door. “One lens is cracked but you should ….” He noticed the look each man gave him and wondered if he had interrupted something important. “Here, Mr. Dean. The kids all asked if you were okay. They said you and the principal tried your best to protect them.”

“Thanks,” said Travis, as he put his glasses on and noticed it was Spider-Man who handed them to him. “I’m surprised they didn’t keep you with them. They’re big fans of yours.”

Peter, whose mask was off, blushed. “I promised to come to your school one day. If that’s okay.”

“That’s great, thank you,” said Travis, standing up. He moved then held his side. “That hurts.”

“Take your time,” said Bucky. “We’ll get you to Laurie.”

With a nod, Travis began walking to the exit, followed by the two Avengers. Before he exited the building, Peter put his mask back on, still reluctant to show his face in public, even though they knew who he was. Together they came out to an onslaught of media people, shouting out Travis’ name. The principal and kids had already told them of how he fought against the terrorists, giving them the opportunity to get most of them away from harm, calling him a hero. He was reluctant to accept that title, gesturing to the others as the real heroes.

Bucky waited patiently, then Sam intervened saying that Travis’ wife was waiting at their compound for her husband, and they wanted to reunite the couple. Only then did they manage to pull away from the almost overwhelming attention. In the quinjet, Travis looked at everyone with a little bit of awe until Thor, who had led team Bravo looked right back at him.

“What is it you see when you look at us, Mr. Dean?”

“Heroes,” replied Travis. “All of you do this all the time, without hesitation.”

“You are also a hero,” said Thor. “You teach but, on this trip, you accepted the necessity of putting yourself in danger so that the children would be safe. There was no preparation or hesitation, it was instinctual, which means that you are as heroic as the world sees us.”

As he looked at the others, he saw the same sentiment expressed on their faces. When he looked at Bucky the latter bowed his head briefly to him then smiled.

“Thank you,” said Travis.

He said nothing after that, just sat with his hands clasped together as he leaned over and rested his arms on his knees. The others went back to talking amongst themselves, but Bucky watched the teacher, as the enormity of what happened to him began to manifest itself. It was a delayed reaction, and he noticed that Travis bit his lip and swallowed noticeably several times. The man was struggling. Bucky stood up, put his hand on Travis’ shoulder and gestured towards the back, where the cargo hold was. The other man looked fearfully at him for a moment, but the super soldier looked kindly at him.

“You can have some privacy back there,” he murmured, adjusting his voice so that only Travis heard him.

A look of relief crossed the man’s features, and he stood up, following Bucky. Sam watched, grimly smiling, knowing that Bucky was well tuned to when someone was on the edge. As the two men entered the tight space, Bucky gestured to a crate. He leaned against the wall.

“Even now, there are times I come back here to deal with the terror I still feel in my gut,” he said to the teacher.

“But, you do this all the time,” replied Travis, sitting. “Aren’t you used to it?”

The dark-haired super soldier shook his head. “No, I’ve never become used to it. It’s what I know and with my abilities, this job is what I’m good at, but I’m not used to it. It eats away at me and builds up to a point where I can lash out at people, like I did to Laurie. I was too macho then to talk to a professional or allow myself to cry the fear out. In my mind, suffering was normal until I lost the one person who I envisioned having a future with.”

“Laurie,” stated Travis. He gave out a tortured breath. “I’m feeling overwhelmed right now. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, look at me. I’m not special like the rest of you but all I felt was the need to do something, anything, to get those kids out. When they started beating me, I thought I was going to die, and that I would never see Laurie again, or see our son grow up. I was so stupid.”

“Not stupid. Protective, and that’s something you’re going to need when that little boy is born. He’s going to need a father he can look up to, and trust to protect him and his mom. You’ve proven that today. But you are feeling the terror right now, aren’t you?” Travis nodded. “One of my coping strategies these days is to come back here and let it all out. I cry like a baby and let all that negative emotion flow out of me like a river. I leave it behind. That’s what you have to do right now. When you get back, talk to a professional and don’t hold back. They’re trained to deal with it objectively.” He looked at his watch. “We have about an hour before we land. Use it.”

He turned to leave.

“Bucky?” The super soldier looked at Travis. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because you love her and make her happy in a way I couldn’t. She deserves happy.”

With a quick nod of his head, Bucky left the man to deal with the emotions he knew all too well. Travis came out of the cargo hold shortly before they landed, his eyes red but seeming calmer. As the ramp lowered, they could all see Laurie waiting with Fury for Travis to exit, so they let him off first, smiling as he wrapped his arms around his wife. He winced at her hugs but accepted her quick assessment of his health before they went up to the medical centre for a more intensive examination. Bucky hung back, standing next to Fury, as the others dispersed to drop off their weapons, shower, and change. They would have a debrief in a few hours.

“You, okay?” asked Fury.

“No.” Bucky’s answer was terse, and his look was anything but relaxed.

“Go see Dr. Hoyle,” suggested Fury, referring to their onsite psychologist, knowing that Bucky needed to speak to someone about this mission. “Just get the edge off.”

“Is that an order?”

“No, but I expect you to do it. She’s already waiting for you.”

With a sigh Bucky went straight there. The suggestion from Fury was more of an attempt to stave off an outburst or even a meltdown. Dr. Hoyle was in her outer office, speaking with the receptionist when Bucky arrived, still in his tactical suit. Leading him into her office, she sat in her chair, gesturing to him to sit. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to initiate the conversation, finding it was better that way. After a good ten minutes of silence, Bucky leaned forward and rubbed his face.

“I have to amend my goals,” he said, quietly.

“Okay, which part?” she asked.

“Getting Laurie back is off the table. She moved on, got married, and is expecting her first child. Her husband is a good man. I might be many things, but I don’t interfere in someone’s marriage.”

“How do you feel about coming to that decision?”

He sat back, looking out the window at nothing in particular. Then he breathed out heavily through his nose.

“Like I’m back at square one.” He looked at her. “It’s hard. I first came to you because I wanted to be good enough for her but that’s not how it works, does it?” Hoyle’s face remained impassive. “I have to do it for myself, first.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “I just wish that it felt like I was making progress.”

“You think this is a setback?”

“Yeah, isn’t it?” She didn’t answer and he sighed, as she was obviously expecting him to figure it out on his own. “I guess part of me thought if I didn’t get her back then I deserved to be alone. By focusing on her I shut myself off to other possibilities, didn’t I?” Hoyle smiled kindly. “By letting her go I can finally move on and maybe make real progress. It still hurts.”

“Yeah, that’s the lousy part,” she smiled. Bucky’s cell phone beeped. “You can check that if you want.”

He looked at it. “She wants to say goodbye to me. That’s part of closure, isn’t it?” Hoyle nodded. “Are you alright if I go?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll see you for your regular session, alright?”

He nodded, leaving through the exit door. As he approached the lobby area, and the small crowd that had gathered to say goodbye to Laurie and Travis, he noticed how they held hands with each other. They were happy together, and for that he was glad. She noticed him first, smiling warmly at him. He shook hands with Travis, then looked fondly at Laurie.

“Take care of yourself and your family,” he said, sincerely. “I wish only the best for you.”

“Thank you, for everything,” she replied. “I hope you find happiness someday. You are a good man, Bucky. You deserve it.”

Their driver opened the back door of the vehicle, and the couple moved towards it. They both raised their hands in farewell then got inside. The others returned to the building as the vehicle drove away, but Bucky watched until he couldn’t see it anymore.

“Goodbye,” he whispered.

One Shots Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[kaleldobrev]

Prologue — Take Me Back Series

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?

Chapter Word Count: 1.3k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Sad Sam Winchester

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy the Prologue of the Take Me Back mini-series! | This was originally supposed to be just a one-shot | Also Y/N is not in this chapter, but she'll be in the next one! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Four Years Ago...

With a snap of the small metal box, Sam placed it back into the crossroads and buried it, taking a deep breath. Turning around, a brunette woman appeared, wearing a long black gown. "Ah Sam Winchester, what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked, a slight smile on her lips.

"You already know," Sam replied, voice stern.

"You want your girlfriend back," she answered, and Sam nodded. "See, here's the thing about that. I would love more than anything to bring her back so the two of you can live happily ever after. I'm a sucker for romance."

Sam scoffed. "I'm sure you are. So can you bring her back or not?" He asked, his hand slowly starting to move into his back pocket, gently gripping the demon knife.

"Release your hand from that knife and then we can talk," she smirked. Sam and her exchanged looks briefly before he released his hand from the knife, placing his hands in front so she could see them bare. "That's more like it," she smiled. "So, there's the deal. I can bring her back, but...there's a catch," she said, flashing her whitest smile.

"I know there's a catch. Me and my brother have made plenty of demon deals," he replied. "Ten years, or me and my brother do you a favor and not kill you."

She let out a small laugh. "You boys know that ten-year deal is never on the table for you, and as much as I would love having a Winchester owe me one, you boys almost never hold up your end." She started walking toward him now, and her hands fell to his chest, which tightened at her touch. "I can bring her back, and you don't have to owe me a thing but, the catch is," she leaned in, whispering in his ear, "she won't remember you or the hunting life."

"What do you mean she won't remember me?" He asked, his voice slightly hurtful.

"Sweetie, what part of she won't remember you can't you wrap your gigantic head around? Tsk. Tsk," she moved around him, her hands gripping his muscular arms. "I bring her back, she doesn't remember you or hunting. I say that's a pretty sweet deal."

Sam wanted you back, needed you back. You didn't deserve to die the way that you did; especially because it was his fault, a true accident. Something that he would never forgive himself for, for as long as he lived.

You were his person, the love of his life; the first woman he's truly loved in a long time. Someone who, after years of struggling, finally let break down those walls of his that he had spent years and years working on in order to protect himself from further hurt. Before you, he had told himself that he was done with relationships, done with romance in general; he didn't really see the point as all of his romantic ventures always ended up just like this. But for you, he made the exception; being solely your friend was something he just couldn't do anymore.

After years of pining after you and finally being able to call you his, it was now a Catch-22 for him. He could either have you be brought back to life and no longer have you in his life or you would be dead and gone for good, still no longer having you in his life. But maybe, despite not having you in his life, this was the best-case scenario for you. Not only would you be alive and well, but you would be able to live your life in safety and without the previous traumas of the hunting life you were so privy to.

With a small sigh Sam said, "Do it," almost responding through gritted teeth.

"You know the deal," she smirked. "Pucker up Buttercup."

Present Day...

Sam's alarm went off the same time as it normally did, and he quickly shut it off, softly groaning. Today was the day that he had been dreading for weeks, although he had been mentally preparing himself. At this point, he thought that this would become just another average day for him to get through, a day that he would slowly forget over time; but this day in particular had become so ingrained in his memory that he would not be forgetting this day any time soon: your birthday. He had spent countless birthday's with you, before and during the time that the two of you were together.

Sam was never really a person that liked to celebrate his birthday, it was just another day for him. But when he met you, he learned to appreciate every single birthday, especially because of something that you had said to him. "It's another year that I can celebrate being alive."

Sitting at the edge of his bed, he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep from them. Sighing, he got up and started making his way into the kitchen; and much to his surprise, his older brother was already up making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already made on the counter. "Good morning Sunshine," Dean grinned, as he slowly worked on the scrambled eggs before him.

"Morning," Sam replied, his voice monotone. He walked over to the mugs, grabbing one and sighing as he examined it. You had given him his mug.

Dean looked up, noticing the slight hesitation in Sam's movements, and saw the mug that he was currently holding. Fuck, I forgot to hide it today, Dean thought to himself. "Give me that mug will ya? I'll put it some place else."

Sam looked over at his brother, continuing to hold the mug in his hands as Dean held out his hand to take the mug. "It's fine," he replied, pouring the coffee into the mug before sitting down at the island. "You know what today is right?"

"Y/N's birthday," Dean said, as he started making up the two plates of food. "I uh, I tried making the eggs the same way she would make them in honor of today."

"Thanks," Sam said, taking one of the plates from his brother. "I thought I'd be over this by now," he confessed. "It's been what? Four years."

"Sam, she was in our lives for six years," Dean began. "I don't expect you to just get over it," he stated. And he really didn't, Hell, even he wasn't completely over it. Although he didn't have the same relationship with you that Sam had had, he deeply cared for you. You were one of his best friends, someone that he considered family, and you were gone in seconds. But despite losing you and hurting, the hurt that he felt was extremely different compared to that of Sam's hurt. You were the love of his life, the first woman that Sam had let himself love in a long time. He loved you more than anyone, and you were ripped away. "Did you want to do something for her birthday?"

Sam shook his head. "Honestly no," he said, his voice a mixture of tired and defeated. "There's no point if she's not here. I just want to work."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Well, in that case, if you're up for it, there seems to be something that might be right up our alley in Kansas City," Dean said, sliding the newspaper over to Sam. "Five runaways have been killed in less than one month at the same shelter."

As Sam examined the news story he raised a brow. "Y/N's shelter," he commented, sliding the paper back over to his brother.

"Shit," Dean said, "Sorry, I had no idea," he lied. "I can uh...I can call another hunter to go and check it out or I can always bring Cas or Jack along instead."

"No, no. I'll go," Sam said. The last thing he needed was for Jack or Cas to accidently say something to you; at least Sam knew better not to say anything.

"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I gotta be," he responded.

"Perfect! We leave in thirty!" Dean smiled, as he clapped his hands together.

In the next chapter...

“It’s better this way. She’s…she’s not in danger anymore,” Sam said, his voice defeated. He was miserable without you, but you being safe was all that mattered to him.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @fuiabarcelos @foxyjwls007 @missscarlettangel @crystal555 If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

[jazzsonly]

౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ (highkey a wip.)

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴀɪɴ

pairing(s): tara carpenter x gn!ghostface!reader

warning(s): no pronouns used. mentions of being high/drunk.

summary: ❝ and I run for miles just to get a taste ❞

────────✬────────

“tara.” you didn’t really have to try to yell over the music because the song had died down, building up to the base drop.

you watch your ex-girlfriend whip her head around, her whole body following to face your direction. any smile or ounce of joy that displayed on her face faded away, and a swirl of emotional shock took over her body.

her pupils dilated and mouth slightly agape in disbelief at the sight of you.

“wha—” she paused, her breath still thin.

“what are you doing here?”

“you texted me—”

“i did?” you could tell she wasn’t all the way there, either really high or drunk—but she could still feel everything for and about you while under the influence.

“did you not want me to come?” a silly question, you know.

“are you alone?” you flick your eyes around the crowd, looking for sam and the rest of core four but only stranger faces were in view.

you could practically hear tara’s heartbeat as she nervously looked around, breathing heavily, she took a few steps backwards before fully turning, trying to speed walk (more like stumble) away from you.

“no, no,” you follow closely behind the girl, bumping into a few bodies.

tara, now with her back pressed against the club wall, swallowed deeply. she had a look of too many emotions to name, but you knew every single one of them.

even though, you knew you were a monster for what you had done to her and the people you once called your family, you also knew you loved tara and there was no place you’d rather be right now—there was no place you’d ever wanna than with her.

“i’m scared of you, y/n.” you look down at the floor in shame.

“i’m sorry…for everything.”

“i’m sorry for hurting you…for hurting our frie—“

with harsh force the influenced girl shoved your chest, “my friends! they aren’t yours! you don’t terrorize and murde—”

you rush forward, covering her mouth. “tara.”

you could practically feel the fear radiating off the girl.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you back away, slowly to let her know you weren’t going to do anything.

“why? why are you here? i gave you a chance, i let you run free from the cops. i let everyone think it was all richie and amber.”

you shake your head, still in close proximity of the girl. “you…you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever met and i need you to know that, tara. i never meant for any of this to happen…”

you pause, touching the girl again, this time bringing your hand up to caress her cheek.

“i never meant for it to go this far…i’m tired, i’m tired of running. i want to be with you.”

each word you spoke was like a bullet to tara, her breath was heavier and heavier with just each sound that came out of your mouth. it didn’t help much with how close you two were, she was basically trapped between the wall that buzz from the music and your hot body, that was heated from passion and emotion.

“i’m the person you fell in love with.” these eight words were the last drop to overflow the cup, tara grips the hem of your beat up leather jacket and flips you. your back now pressed against the wall and her body pressed against you.

“i wanna kill you for all you’ve done, you deserve to know how it feels.”

“i’m yours.” you speak proudly, knowing you’d fully surrender at the girl’s hands.

“you’re not mines…just stay away, y/n. even if i text you…even if i call one night, desperately missing you. i just want— need you to stay away.” tara pulls away, not even sparing you a last glance before disappearing into the sea of dancing, sweaty bodies.

━━━👩🏽‍💻wrote this after the longest day at work, anyways inspired by that one scene in euphoria with nate and jules.

[multifandomworldsposts]

Finally Meeting pt. 2

pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

warning: anxiety mentions, fluff

A/N: since everyone is asking for a second part so here it is and i hope everyone likes it!!

Y/N’s POV

the next day

Colby posted on his social medias about me and how the death threats are getting out of hand and how they affected me in a week.

twitter

colbybrock: you know I’m all about positivity, but this has gone too far. please stop giving my girlfriend these threats that are making her upset and she doesn’t deserve this, she told you guys to treat people with kindness and she’s not seeing that, she’s seeing the opposite. everyone in the trap house loves her and she loves them. once again, like she said, treat people with kindness ❤️

The death threats died down after that post and anytime I would post something like me ghost hunting with Colby or Corey and Elton the comments would be so positive it’ll make me feel better and happy. But eventually I took a break from social media so I can be with Colby, his friends, and my family if they want anything from me.

Sam, Colby, Kat, and I went to Disneyland and there were a lot of fans of Sam and Colby coming up to us and some of them would give me dirty looks, I would get some anxiety attacks but I would try to hide my feelings in front of the fans.

After the fans we went on rides but Colby noticed my anxiousness.

“Are you okay?” He whispers in my ear.

“A little.” I whisper.

“Don’t worry about them, we’re here for you Y/N, if something happens we’ll be there for you and we’ll leave if you want.” Colby says to me.

I nod, “Okay.”

Eventually I calmed down during the day and we had such a great time at Disneyland and when we were going back home I fell asleep in the car. When I woke up for the next morning, I was in Colby’s bed. I felt calmer than ever.

Colby and I stayed at the trap house while everyone else went out to do videos for a while. I get a phone call from my mom.

OUR PHONE CALL

“Hi sweetie!”

“Hi mom.” I said kinda upset.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, I think people hate me.” I confess.

“Why would you think that Y/N/N?”

“Anytime I go out with Colby, his fans give me dirty looks and I get uncomfortable and I want to leave immediately.”

“Don’t let them get to you, you’re with your boyfriend and you should be happy and feel safe with him. I’ve never seen you this happy in a long time and I want you to be happy with yourself Y/N/N.”

I tear up, I know I should be happy about Colby but I just want to stay at the house all daylong because of his fans being rude to me.

I eventually hang up from the phone call and I walk around to find Colby editing a video so I came from behind and hug him, he grabs my arm softly.

“Who was on the phone with you?” He says looking up at me.

“My mom, she just wanted to know how I was doing here.” I look down at him.

“I overheard that you think people hate you.” He says still looking at me.

“Colb, anytime we go out together, I feel like everyone is judging me, I know that I should ignore them but they just get to me.” I confess.

“Y/N, you know that if you feel uncomfortable, you can tell me and we can leave the situation.” He says.

“I know.” I sniffle.

“Don’t cry Y/N/N, everyone that we know knows that we’re happy and no one will stop us from what we’re doing, I love you so much, don’t let anyone get to you.” Colby whispers into my ear.

I look at him in happiness, he makes me smile and he knows that I shouldn’t get that shit into my mind.

“You’re right about that, I just get scared and not think about people get to me.” I say still hugging him.

He kisses my cheek. I feel a little better, I love him so much.

2 WEEKS LATER

Colby films are video about our situation and he got me to be in the video. A lot of people noticed that my facial expressions were happy, anxious, and relaxed while I was sitting next to him.

I read some comments and they were pretty sweet to be honest.

solbyschild: let’s accept that colby is happy and accept that Y/N is happy :) 🥰

taylorswiftfannn13: i think that Y/N seems super sweet! i don’t know why people are hating her???

colbybfan: people are insane, just accept that colby is dating someone and move on!!

inlovewithcolby: i’ve seen her instagram and it’s really cool and she seems like a nice person, and people hate her???? WHY!!!

All I can do is smile and because there’s people out there that’ll support you no matter what you do depends on who it is.

A/N: part 3???

[jiggy-manda]

amber freeman x reader

request: no idea if u write for this kind of stuff, but can i request a amber freeman x reader or a Sam carpenter x reader like self harm/comfort fic?

you didn’t mean for it to happen. it was supposed to be a secret, a well kept secret that nobody would find out about.

you should’ve known that your girlfriend wouldn’t take no for an answer.

amber had seen you without clothes multiple times, but you always found a way to work around it. keeping the lights dim when you’re intimate, wearing underwear that strategically covers your hips… it wasn’t a perfect system, and of course you knew she would find out eventually, but that didn’t stop you from still hoping she wouldn’t ever know.

that fated day came when you got a bit carried away and forgot to think about your ways of hiding the scars. for starters, you both were on her couch with the lights on, and you were both naked. bare. nothing to hide your most loathed yet cherished habit.

she’s been running her hands up your legs when she felt them, and she slowly frowned and pulled away.

you were too far gone that all you could give her was a curious look; you secretly hoped she would ignore it and go back to making you feel good.

“when did this start?”

you looked up at your girlfriend guiltily, and your voice was barely higher than a whisper. “i don’t know, like… awhile ago,” you breathed out.

amber gave you a stern look, causing you to break. “fine. a couple years, give or take…”

“why did you start?”

you ducked your head, avoiding her gaze. “after… the attacks.” you winced as you spoke; you didn’t want her to think it was because of her. it had nothing to do with her. you were there during the attacks, and you had gotten hurt, but it was richie who’d done it. amber… amber had ignored you. it was weird, and you still didn’t know why. you were too scared to ask her, even if you’d been dating for months at this point.

you wished you hadn’t looked back up, because all you saw was amber’s guilty look. “you started because… because of me?”

“no,” you immediately protested. “you never hurt me. i mean yeah, you scared the shit out of me for a couple hours, but you never… did anything.” you shifted in your seat uncomfortably, still not completely understanding what happened that night.

“i… yeah,” amber said with a pause. “i didn’t… i didn’t want to.”

you gave her a confused look. “what do you mean?”

“you just… you were different,” she said with a shrug. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

“why?”

“don’t know. it just felt different.”

“oh.”

“yeah.” there was an awkward pause before she spoke again. “he— did he hurt you badly?”

“yeah,” you replied quietly, curling up to wrap your arms around your knees. “my stomach… you’ve seen it.” she nodded. “the scar healed after a year or so, but it was still serious. you can’t see how deep it was, especially with the smaller scar.”

“i see.” once again, she paused and looked down. “but if you were stabbed, why do you…” she struggled to find the words. “why do you hurt yourself? especially in that way?”

it was your turn to be at a loss for words. “dunno. just helps, i guess.”

amber looked at you, examining your face. you were visibly uncomfortable, and the vulnerability in your expression made her heart twinge. “how?”

you sighed. “it… i don’t know. it’s weird,” you said while shaking your head. “it’s stupid, really.”

amber’s eyes widened as she rushed forward to take your hand into her own. “no,” she said urgently. “it’s not stupid. nothing that leads you to harm yourself is stupid. if you feel like you need to hurt yourself, it doesn’t matter how valid you think the reason is because you deserve help either way.”

she looked down at your lower body again, moving your arm out of the way so she could observe the scars on your hips. you shifted a bit, uncomfortable with the attention on your most hated attribute.

“you take care of them, right?” she asked softly, giving you a tender look.

you nodded. “i clean them. clean my blades, get rid of the waste. i’ve never gotten an infection.”

amber felt her eye twitch at the subtle reminder that this had been a common occurrence for multiple years. “good, that’s good.” she looked down again, leaning her face closer. “can i…”

you sucked in a breath before nodding.

“okay,” she whispered.

her finger tips started running up your leg, lightly moving over the disrupted skin on your hips. you shivered at the touch, a product of both the cold nature of her hands and the intimacy of the matter.

“i’m sorry,” she said quietly.

you found yourself shaking your head once more, more forcefully this time. “it’s not your fault. stop apologizing.”

the guilty look on her face didn’t falter once, so you just brought her into a hug. “it wasn’t you.”

“im glad you’re safe now,” she mumbled into your hair.

“you make me feel safe, amber.”

the puppy dog eyes she gave you melted your heart, and you smiled down at the way she rested her chin down on your chest.

“promise you’ll tell me if you ever feel like doing it again?”

you nodded down at her. “promise.”

[seenoversundown]

Come Back For Me : Chapter Two

Danny Wanger x Melody (Fem OC)

Warnings: Fluff, a lot of uncomfortable situations, reminiscing on the past, Josh, Mild Anxiety mentions, and 'One Date Daniel' living up to his name.

Word Count: 3k.

Summary: Danny spends the day relaxing or trying to before having to go a shift at the bar. But nothing would have prepared him for the day he was about to have.

Author's Note: HEHE :) Enter Daniel. (I do love you, just remember that as you read this chapter)

This storyline is much more .. dramatic? and boy oh boy, it is fun to write, read, witness- all of the above! Happy reading!

Someone New - Hozier "Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey there is no right way, And so I fall in love a little ol' little bit everyday with someone new."

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“Text me later?” She whispers against my lips, glancing up at me. 

My hand holds the base of her neck, kissing her again before muttering back, “Sure.” Feeling her hands slide down my bare chest before backing up, I watch her eyes drift down to the waistband of my sweatpants before she looks back up at me. 

“Bye, Danny,” she says, biting her lip gently as she goes to walk away. I watch her get into her car, sending her a little wave before closing the door behind me, leaning my back against it, and letting my head drop forward. 

“No chance,” I breathe out. 

She wasn’t the worst person I’ve ever gone out with, but there’s no way I’m going out with her again. Maybe hook up with, but nothing more than that.  She was nice, definitely hot, but there was no real connection other than the fact she was more than ready to climb me like a tree. 

I swear I’ve gone out with every last girl in this city and just have not found someone who piques my interest. Sure, it’s nice just to get to know people and at least get out of the house for a little bit, but it would be nice to find someone who was worth keeping around. 

The truth is, I haven’t really dated anybody seriously since Melody. It’s been years since we broke up, and it feels like I’ve been cursed with something because nothing ever sticks like she did. We were friends as kids. She spent a lot of time around Sam and Me, which also meant with his brothers. Growing up in smaller towns in Maine typically meant keeping the same friend group for a while. 

We all spent most of our free time together. She was never bothered by being the only girl unless someone had a girlfriend at the time— but even that was few and far between. It was less than shocking for everyone else to discover that we started dating at the time; I don’t think we were good at hiding our feelings for each other, but to be fair, we were also maybe fourteen years old. 

She was the first girl I ever had feelings for like that. My first real kiss, the only date I had for school dances, who I lost my vir— you get the point. We were inseparable until it came time for college. She had bigger plans than I did, and I wouldn’t hold her back from them. I always wanted her to pursue her dreams because she deserved it. 

Unfortunately, we didn’t last. But it’s fine because I know that even though it took a while to move on, it was probably for the best. I think. I try to not dwell on it too much, despite what Sam would tell you. I should call him. 

“Well, hello there, Daniel,” his voice rings through the phone. We spend a few minutes going on about our usual banter before I fill him in on the girl who just left. Which is really just a lot of humming and hawing from my end about whether or not I think it would be worth it to see her again. 

“I don’t think we would have anything to talk about,” I tell him. 

Sam laughs before saying, “Your nickname is really showing right about now, One Date Daniel.” It’s a fun nickname that they’ve coined over the years—by they, I mean he started it, but naturally, the twins picked up on it, and now I hear it all too often. 

“We’ve gone through this,” I breathe out. “I’m not trying to find the flaws in these girls; they just .. present them quickly.” 

He’s quick to rebuttal with,  “It seems like the flaw is always that they aren’t M—” 

“Shut up, it’s not that,”  I cut him off. 

“Well, it just seems that you find something wrong with all of them, and she was the only one you never complained about.” 

“Maybe I just need to stop trying to date in Portland,” I pitch. “I’m sure there are plenty of options outside of the city.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Daniel,” he sighs. “All I know is that when I met Birdie..” 

And then I zoned out. 

I love that Sam found someone and specifically someone who is willing to put up with his shit every day. She’s one of God’s strongest soldiers, for real.  But dear god, the sheer amount of times that our conversations have segued into some lecture where he tells me about how great Willa is and why I should listen to his advice— despite the number of times I’ve heard her tell him to stop meddling in other people's lives. 

He’s convinced that I find problems with any date because they aren’t Melody. I don’t think that’s the issue, personally, but I can’t seem to make him agree with me. I just know what I’m looking for in a woman, and they just don’t typically fit that, which is okay. Today wasn’t my best look. I try not to have too many one-night stands, but what’s a guy to do when he can’t find someone interesting enough to keep around? Sleep with the hot ones.  

“Mhm,” I hum back to whatever Sam told me. I’m sure I’ve heard it all before. 

He sighs on the other end of the call, breathing out, “Well, do you have to work tonight?” 

“I do, why?” 

“I don’t think Bird and I have plans later, so maybe I can swing by for a little bit.” 

Laughing quietly to myself, “If you want, no pressure.” 

Falling back into the couch, I scroll on my phone for a bit, before turning on the TV. Watching whatever mindless thing comes on because it’s too early in the day for it to be anything interesting. 

Me: I should have told you to bring my favorite lady over 

Sam:  you know she’s MY dog right?

Me: she and I haven’t spent time together in a little while, I miss her 

Sam: maybe you can keep her this weekend so birdie and I can go do something 

Penny is the greatest decision Sam has made in a while, besides finding a girlfriend, apparently. She’s such a good dog, and I still personally believe that I’m her favorite human, but I won’t say that to Sam. I’m usually his go-to for babysitting her when he needs it, which I’d like to think is because she and I have fun together, but I’m almost positive it’s because the twins live together, and he doesn’t want to invade their space. 

Regardless of the reason, I love it when I get to steal her for a day or two— not that I don’t enjoy being alone. Sometimes, it is nice to have someone else here, even if that someone hogs my entire bed when we sleep. 

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Once I convince myself to get up, I know I need to run and do a few errands before going to the bar. I pull my hair up into a bun, high on my head. Pulling on a basic outfit since I’ll probably just go straight to work after I’m done. I stare at myself in my mirror for all of a few seconds before I’m off to be productive, hopefully. 

I live close enough to the bar but just far enough away that I typically will drive to just spare myself walking home late at night. Not that the area is terrible, but two in the morning makes for a very tired walk home, especially when it could be a five-minute drive. 

I find a spot close enough to the bar, leaving my car there to just walk to a few places, but starting with the local coffee shop I prefer. Working in this area has been a blessing and a curse because I frequent the same places enough that the employees know who I am, but living around here makes it uncomfortable sometimes. It’s not often that I run into someone I went out with, but every once in a while, they make an appearance, and I can’t even be mad because we both live around here. 

Today is one of those days. 

I keep my eyes locked on my phone as I pretend to look at something, but in reality, I’m just scrolling through my texts with Sam. But a girl that I went with a few weeks ago is sitting in the corner, and I can feel her stare burning a hole in the back of my head. It was another case in which she was very nice, but there just wasn’t anything there. 

I ordered my drink and stood where I wouldn’t make awkward eye contact with her while I waited for my drink. I could just say hello. No, it would get weird. 

Me: you’re not going to believe who’s here 

Sam: 👀

Me: remember the girl from a few weeks ago? 

Me: she was nice but literally nothing to talk about?

Sam: uhhh.. Sure 

Me: she’s sitting 30 feet away from me and these baristas are taking FOREVER

Sam: LMFAO 

“Danny!” one of the baristas yelled as they set my coffee at the end of the counter. Well, there’s no pretending it isn’t me now, grabbing it, glancing over to the set of eyes that I could feel staring the entire time, and shooting her a tight-lipped smile. I watch as she just rolls her eyes as I push open the door to leave. Oops.

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I spent a little over an hour running to a few shops that I need to pick things up from and then running everything back to my car. Sliding my phone from my pocket, I still have an hour and a half before I need to be there. Debating on whether or not I want to grab something to eat, I make the executive decision to stop at the bar; maybe the boys will want food, too.  

Working in this area is definitely more fun than I anticipated. To be honest, anything is more fun than working at the shipyard. Getting to watch people stumble late at night on the cobblestone street across from us is one of my favorite things about having to linger near the door. Those poor girls in their high heels had no idea what would happen to them when they attempted to walk down that street. 

The daytime is pretty calm. We just witnessed a lot of tourists during the summer, which has made a lot of evenings go by with a ton of people coming in because other bars were packed. Not that Jake didn’t do a good job with this one, but it’s not necessarily the most modern bar in the area. The aesthetic being very pirate and a bit dark because we are like half way into a basement doesn’t help. 

 Seeing the sign as I slowly make my way down the street. Pulling open the door to the bar, I immediately stop in my tracks. 

Oh my god. Shit. Why is she here? Maybe it isn’t her. 

I stand there quietly and watch her talk to Jake; everything feels quiet. It had been years since we’d seen each other, let alone spoke to each other. I guess I can’t blame her.  It feels like hours that I stood there just watching them before I could convince myself to move. Walking closer to the bar, Jake looks over at me; his eyes widen a bit, bouncing his stare between the two of us like he’s trying to warn me. I just subtly nod my head to acknowledge it. 

“Oh shit- Daniel?” Melody says as she’s turning around, immediately making eye contact with me. 

I can’t describe the feeling that courses through my body hearing her say my name again. I don’t think anything could have prepared me for it. My eyes are fixed on hers as it feels like time has completely stopped. She looks good. I can feel the blood coursing through me as we stare at each other. The silence was deafening. 

Finally, I uncomfortably choke out, “Hah, yes. How are you?” 

“A little better now,” she tells me, smiling over at Jake. “Nothing like trying to find a job quickly.” No fucking way. Moving my eyes over to Jake, who looks like he’s just seen a ghost and would like to join them at this point. 

“Oh? You uh- live here?” I ask timidly. “I thought you were still in Mass.” 

“Yeah.. I just moved back in with my dad.” She says, glancing at the ground for a minute. Her voice gets much more quiet when she says, “My mom uh..passed away not too long ago, and it’s just not feasible—“ 

I cut her off quickly, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s okay, why would you?” She waves her hand at me, dismissing everything. She taps the bar a couple of times. “Anyway, I need to get going,” she says, much more lightheartedly, glancing between Jake and myself. 

“Oh yeah, uh-“ I spit out quickly.  “It was nice to see you.” Forcing a small smile onto my face despite the pit in my stomach. 

She smiles softly back at me, saying, “You too.” 

Seeing her smile made me nauseous, but I couldn’t let her know that. My eyes shift to Jake, mumbling, “Josh is here?”

He just nods at me silently. 

I start to walk out back, knowing I need to find him, but hearing her say, “Thank you so much, Jake. You’re a lifesaver.” 

This can’t be real. She hasn’t spoken to me in years, but now we’re going to work together. What the fuck. I can feel my body warm at the thought, fighting the anger that is threatening to come out at this point. Not that it’s a big deal; it’s been so long, and I’ve moved on from it. It just feels like I should have known about this before she just waltzed back into our lives.  She couldn’t get a job anywhere else in Portland, like how of all places she landed here– and then it hits me. 

Josh told her. There’s no other way. This bar is not one to scream, ‘Women, come in!’ I tilt my head, feeling my neck crack slightly, before tilting it the opposite way so I can see the back room door. 

“Josh, why do I feel like you’re behind this?” I ask, rounding the corner into the back room. There’s no chance he can’t tell that I’m irritated at this point. 

He asks, “Whatever do you mean?” The sing-song tone of his voice isn’t going to save the situation this time. 

“What did you do?” My voice is low as I question him. 

He looks over at me, letting out, “She needed a job, and Jake obviously needs more help.” 

My head rolls back as I let out a deep sigh. This can’t be real right now. 

“So, she definitely works here now?” 

The uncomfortable smile he shoots me is enough, but he weakly says, “.. is that a problem?” 

It isn’t necessarily a problem, but we did go years without speaking and ended on not the greatest of terms. It’s a long story. To just resume life as if nothing happened and work together, I don’t know how I’m supposed to just be around her a few nights a week like that. 

“No,” I breathe out. “It’ll be fine; I just wasn’t anticipating seeing her.” 

We’re both adults now, and we should be able to function around each other without things being weird; I mean, it’s been so long that maybe she’s also past it.  

I can hear the sound of Jake walking towards us, his boots will always sell him out; thankfully it sounds like only he’s coming, so that’s a relief. 

“Hey bud,” his voice is just above a whisper. “I didn’t realize what time it was; I would have warned you.” The look on his face alone tells me that he feels incredibly guilty. 

I don’t think a warning at this point would have even helped. 

I mindlessly crack my knuckles, looking over to him, “It’s okay.” 

“If it helps,” he starts. “She isn’t starting until next week.” The smile on his face seems uncomfortable as if he desperately wants to make things better. 

At least I don’t have to work with her right away. 

“Plus, she’ll be bartending with me. So, you won’t really have to interact with her much if you don’t want to!” Josh interjects in an attempt to make things better. 

If I know anything about either of them, it’s that the last thing they want to do is watch a friend struggle. I’ve been close enough with their whole family to know this. I’m sure that whenever Josh spoke to her, he probably just felt for her and knew that Jake wouldn’t say no. I mean, shit, that’s how I landed my job here. 

Even though I realistically don’t need to be here all that often, it’s not that kind of bar. Jake wanted to get me out of the shipyard because it’s a draining job and once he quit, I was left there to fend for myself. He practically created a job for me and managed to pay me enough to keep me alive. It’s incredible how much money you save when you’re single and depressed. 

“That’s true,” I tell them. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure, but..” 

They look at each other and then over to me. 

“But what?” Jake caves, asking for the both of them. 

It’s shocking to me that neither of them are considering the real issue here, and it’s definitely not Melody and I being in the same room. My hand finds comfort on the back of my neck as I look over to him, “Who’s going to tell Sam?” 

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Chapter One

Chapter Three

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