#i like biking but i hate drivers when i bike. they suck ASS

[rehgrats]

Ate shit in front of a stupid car

[the-iceni-bitch]

Sweeter Than This

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!spy!Reader

Words: Mobile again ☹️

Summary: You almost miss your first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, but you have a plan to make it up to him.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex(f receiving), salad tossing, unprotected anal sex, use of butt plug), violence (standard canon stuff), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Happy V-Day y’all! Here’s the next entry in my Holidays With Bucky series (with so Sam sprinkled in) and it’s a fun one! Unfortunately, the power is out at my place right now due to snow and because my city sucks at preparations I’m probably not going to have power until at least Monday, so we’ll see if I’m able to deliver on my other promised Valentine’s treats for you all.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Bucky hated clubs so much.

The loud music, the overcrowding, the overpriced drinks. He was absolutely miserable.

It didn’t help that Sam was bouncing around like an idiot, enjoying the atmosphere with a stupid grin on his face. Would it kill the man to act like a professional for once?

They’d followed the target to the Cross Club here in Prague after four days of surveillance with nothing to show for it, and now they were watching him talk to some new player in a VIP booth. God he hoped this would be over soon.

“What?” Buck shouted over the music. Sam had said something, but even with his super soldier hearing, he couldn’t make it out over the thumping bass.

“I said, is Y/N pissed you’re missing Valentines Day?” Sam yelled, his hips still moving in time to the music.

Bucky did some quick mental math and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t seen you in almost 3 weeks. You had to head back to the States for some stupid debrief with Sharon and the big bosses while he and Sam kept chasing leads on Zemo here in Europe. He hadn’t even realized it was Valentines Day.

“Shit, he’s moving.” Sam said, tapping Buck on the shoulder as the mark stood up and moved towards the dance floor.

“Fuck, can’t we go around?” Bucky whined, starting to follow after Sam towards the crowd.

“Y’know, when your girlfriend’s not around, you’re such an old man.” Sam teased. “We don’t wanna lose him, so pull the stick out of your ass and try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Buck just rolled his eyes and trailed after him, doing his best to avoid the writhing, sweaty bodies that kept trying to grind against him. Sam was right, it was a lot easier to enjoy these types of ops when you were with him.

He didn’t know how they managed to keep eyes on the target as he moved through the crowd, but they saw him head out one of the exits and were following after him within a few minutes.

“Hey, Wilson? Where the fuck is he?” Buck hissed as he opened the door to an empty alley.

“Shit, hold on, let me pull up Redwing.”

“I still can’t believe you named that fucking thing.” Buck said exasperatedly.

Sam didn’t have a chance to reply before a motorcycle ripped past the two of them.

“Was that him?” Bucky yelled as he whipped his head after it. “Motherfucker!”

“Calm down, I got it.” Sam said, summoning his wings.

“Oh, I guess I’ll just run after him then? I told you we should’ve brought a car!”

“I could carry you.” Sam said teasingly, giving Bucky a stupid grin.

“Oh fuck you.” Buck said, flipping Sam off as he chuckled at him. “Shit!”

The two of them dove out of the way as a Lexus tore into the alley, stopping just short of hitting them.

“Hey assholes! Happy Valentine’s Day!!!” You shouted as you rolled down the window, a massive grin splitting your face.

“Baby!? What’re you doing here?!?” Bucky asked, beaming back at you.

“I had to get the fuck out of D.C. There was no way I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day! Besides, I missed the field! Now get in, I managed to tag his bike but I don’t want him to get out of range.”

“Shotgun!” Sam called with a grin on his face, making you laugh.

“What?!? Fuck you Wilson! You’re gonna make me sit in the back when this is the first time I’ve seen my girl in weeks?” Bucky said in disbelief.

“Sorry Barnes, you should’ve called it!”

“Yeah babe, you really should’ve called it.” You teased as he crawled into the back of the vehicle with a scowl.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.” He pouted at you as Sam climbed after him, bringing the back of his seat up to crash against Buck’s knees.

“There’s no sides, honey, it’s shotgun rules.” You said as you peeled out of the alleyway.

“Whatever, could you move your seat up Wilson?”

“Nope.” Sam said grinning over his shoulder before cursing under his breath and bracing one hand against the ceiling as you swerved around a slow moving van. “Jesus, Y/N! Maybe take it a little slower, we’re still in the city.”

You just snorted before taking a sharp turn at an inadvisable speed, barely tapping on the brakes and sending Bucky sliding across the backseat.

“Put your seatbelts on, idiots.” You scolded as the two of them tried to find something to grab onto.

“Honey, pedestrian, pedestrian, Pedestrian!!!” Buck screamed as he buckled himself in, screwing his eyes closed.

“Yeah, I see them.” You said as you took another turn at the last second, barely missing the man who was crossing the street.

“Oh my god! This is how I’m going to die.” Sam said, his knuckles white on the dashboard as you flew up a hill, the car actually suspending in midair for a beat before crashing back to the street with a jolt. “Stuck in a car with a crazy woman and her 100 year old boyfriend.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic.” You said with an eye roll, glancing at him sideways. “It’s like you’ve never been in a high speed chase before.”

“Eyes on the road!” Bucky shouted at you as an unsuspecting couple started to step off the curb directly into your path.

You hopped onto the walkway behind them to avoid the brake lights in front of you and your two passengers started letting out a steady stream of curses as you weaved between pedestrians and carts.

“Just relax you two, we’ve almost got him.” You said exasperatedly, somehow speeding up even more.

You rounded another corner and the bike popped into view, speeding out of the city at a breakneck speed.

“Shit, gun!” Sam screamed as the biker turned around, hefting an AK-47 and pointing it directly at the windshield.

He and Bucky ducked, hands covering their heads. They flinched as they heard a series of pops, then straightened up slowly when they realized the windshield was still intact.

“Yeah, it’s bulletproof.” You said with a grin as you kept the car steady with one hand, reaching under your seat to grab something. You handed a giant pistol to Sam. “There should be a rifle under the backseat, baby.”

“And what exactly do you want us to do with these?” Sam asked warily as Bucky drew out the rifle and nodded appreciatively.

“Shoot at him.” You said, following the bike around a sharp turn that had the boys bracing themselves.

“Fuck that! If you think I’m sticking half my body out of a window while you’re driving like this you’re insane!” Sam said in disbelief. “Besides the car is bulletproof.

“Yeah, well the tires aren’t, and if he hits one of those while I’m driving this fast, we’re all gonna get shredded.”

Bucky shook his head before rolling down his window and pulling his upper body out of the car, bringing the rifle up to return fire.

“You are both fucking crazy!” Sam said, rolling his own window down and shoving his shoulders out, bringing up his pistol.

The biker turned his focus to Bucky while Sam covered him, and you took the opportunity to speed up.

“What’re you doing, babe?” Bucky shouted into the car as you started to get closer to the bike.

“I’m gonna ram him.” You yelled back. “Keep covering me!”

“Umm, isn’t he supposed to lead us to Zemo? Shit!” Sam yelled, a bullet whizzing by his ear.

“I don’t think he’s leading us anywhere Sammy.”

“Well, we could still get information out of him!”

“Yeah, these guys have proven to be pretty impervious to interrogations, Wilson.” Buck said, gripping the roof of the car with his vibranium hand as you followed the bike around another curve.

“I really just need his phone!” You yelled as you closed the distance even further, now only 25 feet from the back tire of the bike. “You might want to get back inside.”

Sam yanked his upper body back into the vehicle with a curse and Buck slid back inside easily as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor. You hit the bike in a few seconds and sent it and the rider rolling over the car with a thud. As soon as it was clear you slammed on the brakes, sending the vehicle spinning out.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod....” Sam was screaming as the car whipped around over and over, his eyes screwed shut and his hand braced against the roof of the vehicle while his foot braced against the dashboard.

Bucky just clenched his jaw and ripped his vibranium fingers through the back door to hold himself in place, shaking his head at Wilson.

The vehicle finally came to a stop about 200 feet away from where the bike had crashed. Sam wrenched his door open and dove out of the car, bending over and vomiting at the side of the road.

“You ok there Sammy?” You asked, rising from the driver’s seat gracefully and looking at your friend with concern as Bucky almost climbed over the front seat with a wince and joined you.

“Oh, what are you wearing?” He groaned as he finally got a good look at you. “Are you trying to kill me?”

It was a skin tight, patent leather pink dress that was pushing your tits together and up in an absolutely delicious way. The skirt barely covered your ass and he was sure there was no way you could bend over in it without flashing whoever was nearby.

“I told you, baby, it’s Valentines Day.” You sad with a grin as you stepped closer to him.

He moved to wrap his arms around you but you stepped away at the last second, moving back towards where the bike crashed with a light laugh as he let out a frustrated huff.

“What is wrong with you two?!” Sam said as he started to follow after you. “Your girlfriend almost kills me and all you want to do is jump her as soon as it’s over.”

“I mean, did you see that dress?” Bucky said teasingly as he joined your friend, walking a little faster to catch up with you.

“Got the phone!!” You said triumphantly as you straightened back up from your inspection of the dead body. “And it’s still in ok shape! I’m gonna call this in real quick and then we can head back.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere if you’re driving!” Sam said, shaking his head vehemently. “Gimme the keys.”

“C’mon Sammy!” You said with an eye roll.

“You do not get to call me Sammy right now, you psycho!” He said, snatching the keys out of your outstretched hand as you laughed at him. “And neither of you gets to sit shotgun! You sit in the back and think about what you’ve done.”

“Jesus, fine dad.” You said as you slid into the back seat, Bucky chuckling as he slid in after you and slammed the door closed.

Sam pulled the car forward a few feet, turning the wheel sharply before throwing it in reverse and spinning it in the opposite direction as he backed up.

“Uh, Sammy?” You said as he repeated the process. “Maybe just crank the wheel all the way and pull a little further forward?”

“Yeah, it’s not called a 13 point turn, Wilson.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up!! I’m not taking driving advice from you!” He shouted over his shoulder as he did the exact same thing and you lost it, laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god, there’s like 15 feet of road that you’re not using!” You said breathlessly as you cracked up Bucky grinning as he watched you fold over in laughter.

“I cannot believe the shit I have to put up with.” He muttered as he finally straightened out the vehicle and drove back towards the city, doing his best to ignore your dying laughter.

Bucky was beaming at you as you settled down, leaning back against the seat as you wiped tears from your eyes. You smiled back at him and gave him a wink.

“Did I tell you how much I love that dress?” He said as he scooted closer to you, his eyes raking over your chest before sinking lower to gaze at your thighs.

“No.” You said teasingly, biting your lip at him and leaning towards him just a little bit.

“Cuz I fucking love that dress.” He growled at you as he wrapped his hands around your waist and drew you closer, nuzzling himself into your neck.

You gave a soft sigh as he ran his teeth over your throat, flinging one leg over his lap as he moved his vibranium hand from your waist to cup your ass. He moved his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw as he pressed you into him.

“Shit, Bucky.” You moaned as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands running over your thighs to tuck under your skirt as he sucked a bruise against your neck. “I swear to god, if you ruin this dress...”

“Oh, what the fuck guys?!” Sam said as he peeked at you through the rear view mirror. “I’m two feet away from you! It’s like you’re a couple of teenagers.”

“Sorry Sammy!” You whined before letting out a gasp as Bucky nuzzled himself between your tits at the same time he bucked his hips up into you, grinding his hardening cock against you.

“Oh, I do not get paid enough for this shit.” Sam groaned as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the hotel and jolted it to a halt. “I cannot believe I have to put up with you horny idiots.”

“Bye Sam!” You called after him as he slammed the door closed, waving a dismissive hand at you as he started to head back to his room. “Mmm, Bucky!”

He drew the straps of your dress down over your arms and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples as you arched your back into his face.

“Jesus Christ, I fucking missed you.” He groaned before moving his mouth up to yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he laid you down across the backseat.

“Yeah? What’d you miss baby?” You murmured against his lips, wrapping your legs around him and ripping his shirt over his head.

“Missed the way you smell.” He murmured against your neck as he nuzzled into your hair. “Missed these fucking perfect tits and how well they fit in my hands.” He whispered into your ear as he brought his hands up to palm your breasts, making you whine.

“Fuck, baby. You’re making me so wet.” You said breathlessly as a fresh rush of arousal leaked out of you, your fingers moving to work at undoing his fly.

“Good.” He growled against your collarbone as his he dipped one hand under your ass and pressed you into his hard on. “Cuz I missed that pussy the fucking most.”

“Shit.” You hissed as his vibranium hand ripped off your panties in one quick motion before his hands moved to shove your dress up around your waist. “Don’t you dare fucking rip this dress, Barnes!”

“I’m being careful.” He said with a chuckle before lining himself up. He teased his tip against your entrance before slowly sinking into you, grinning as he watched your eyes roll back in your skull as your lids fluttered, a moan escaping from your lips.

He drew himself out halfway, really taking his time as he felt himself drag against every inch of the warm channel between your legs, then slammed his hips forward with enough force that you had to brace your hand against the door to keep your head from cracking against it. You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming as you came immediately, your back arching up off the seat as your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you miss me too?” Bucky said with a grin as he kept fucking into you, watching your chest heave as you started to come down from your first orgasm. He hooked one hand under your knee and drew it up to your waist, spreading you apart even further.

“Shit, yes!” You moaned as his dick thrust even deeper into you, hitting a new spot that had you seeing stars. “Missed this cock so fucking much.”

“Yeah? You miss feeling me in this tight little pussy?” He said as he felt you clench around him, your hips meeting his thrusts desperately.

“Fuck, Bucky! My pussy needs you so bad. Need your big cock inside me all the time.” You let out a gasp as he brought his vibranium hand between the two of you to strum at your clit. You wrapped your hand around his wrist to keep him in place as you tossed your head back. “Need to feel you stretch me and split me open, baby.”

“Jesus, keep talking.” He murmured as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he started moving his hips even faster. “Love hearing you use that filthy mouth of yours.”

“Yeah, babe? You wanna hear me talk about how much this pussy needs your big cock?” Your grinned when he let out a groan against your neck. “My pussy would get so fucking wet every time I thought about that dick. Nobody fucks me like you do. Oh god, right there!”

“Damn, honey. You’re squeezing me so good. You gonna cum again?”

You just nodded before a sob ripped through your chest, your knuckles turning white as your grip on his vibranium wrist tightening and a wave a pleasure crashed over you. Your legs squeezed his hips as you thumped your fist against the door, your torso rolling underneath Bucky as your cunt clamped down on him, making him twitch.

You felt his hips stuttering as you writhed underneath him, and with just a few thrusts he was filling you up, panting against your neck as he sank on top of you, pressing his full weight into you as he came down.

“Oh my god, happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He moaned into your hair.

“Shit, I still need to give you your present, baby!!” You said with a grin as you ran your hands over his shoulders.

“I don’t need a present, sweetheart.” He said lazily before peppering soft kisses over your throat.

“Oh, I really think you’re gonna want to open this one.” You sighed, wriggling a little underneath him.

You grabbed his flesh hand and drew it between your legs slowly, dragging it over your sex until his fingers brushed against the jewel that was nestled between your ass cheeks. He sat up with a jolt when he realized what you were suggesting, making you laugh excitedly as he gave you a massive grin.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this.” He said as he flipped you over, smacking your ass as you giggled at him. He spread your cheeks apart and groaned when he got a look at the pink jewel of the plug you had inserted earlier in the day.

He gripped the plug and drew it out of you slowly, biting his lower lip as he watched you pussy clench at the sensation. His breath came out in a hiss once it was free, your pretty hole gaping and fluttering at the loss as you moaned underneath him, pressing your ass back into his palms.

“Fuck, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was yanking your hips back and up, tossing your thighs over his shoulders. You let out a shriek when he ran his tongue over your cunt in a heavy stripe before dragging the flat of the thick muscle over your asshole.

“Fuck, oh my god!” You screamed, trying to find something to brace yourself against as he ran the tip of his tongue around your rim, teasing you and making both of your holes throb with need.

He kept teasing you with his tongue for what felt like hours, alternating between heavy drags that ran over your entire sex and tiny kitten licks that were turning you into a begging, whimpering mess, a steady stream of slick leaking out of your swollen pussy.

“Gotta make sure you’re good and ready for me, gorgeous.” He murmured, giving you a momentary reprieve before he shoved his tongue inside your puckered hole.

The sound you made was otherworldly, halfway between a moan and a cry. He almost came just from the pure wantonness of it, and he felt his cock twitching against your chest as he started to tongue-fuck you. You pressed your cheek to the leather of the seat as he took you apart, mewling like an idiot as he stretched you open, his thick muscle probing you as deep as he could.

“Bucky...” you mumbled before another orgasm shook you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as a wave of bliss traveled up your spine from deep in your core and making you whine as drool leaked from the corner of your mouth.

He pulled his face away from you suddenly and unwrapped his arms from around your thighs. Your muscles were jelly as he lowered your hips, your eyelids drooping as you moaned at the loss of him. Once he finally had you laid back down, he took a second to gaze at you.

He loved how fucked out you got. Your limbs were splayed out at random angles as your back rose and fell with deep breaths, the curves of your breasts just peeking out from where they were pressed against the seat. He brushed your hair away from your face to see you grinning up at him, your cheeks streaked with tears and mascara and your lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin as you looked at him with lust blown pupils.

“We’re still not done.” He said softly before wrapping his hand around your throat and yanking you up until your back was flush against his chest, making you gasp. He brought his other hand between you to wrap around his cock and dragged it through the slick that had soaked your ruined pussy before teasing his tip against the rim of your tightest hole. “I think you’re ready for me.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer before shoving his hips forward and spearing into you. Your body tried to jolt forward at the intrusion but his palm on your throat kept you in place, holding you still as he bottomed out.

“Jesus Christ, you feel amazing.” He muttered into your hair, his fingers vibrating over your throat as you let out a whine.

He pressed down against your jugular as he started to move his hips, dragging in and out of you at a deliciously slow pace that had you keening. You were losing yourself in the new sensation of having him fill your tightest channel, his thick cock stretching you more than you’d ever been before. Your head dropped back on his shoulder as he started to move faster, the slick leaking from your pussy making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

“Fuck, I love your body. You treat me so good baby.” He murmured against the shell of your ear. “Wanna fill all your your pretty holes and pump you full of my cum. Wish I could be inside you all the time, pretty girl.”

Your pussy was fluttering around nothing as his soft praises filled your ears, and when he dropped his hand to the apex of your thighs you almost came immediately with a cry.

“You didn’t think I forgot about this pretty pussy, did you baby?” He whispered as his metal fingers spread you apart, teasing over your entrance as his flesh hand increased the pressure on your airway and his hips picked up the pace. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while my cock’s in your ass, honey?”

“Fuck, Bucky, I want you to spank it.” You moaned as he continued to tease you, your brain starting to shut down as the mixture of sensations overwhelmed you.

He let out a feral growl against the curve of your neck before wrapping his lips around your earlobe. “Shit, you gonna cum if I spank it?” He hissed in your ear as he kept his fingers running over your sex.

“Yeah, I’m gonna fucking cum! Need you to spank my pussy, Bucky, please.”

His teeth nipped at the hollow behind your ear at the same time he smacked your cunt and you let out a shriek as your body vibrated against him. Your thighs quivered with strain as your pussy spasmed uncontrollably, your asshole strangling Bucky’s cock as you shook in your bliss, his hand around your neck the only thing keeping you upright.

“Fuuuuck.” He hissed against your neck as his hips chased his own release. “I wanna fuck all your holes while I cum, sweetheart, get ready.”

You only had a second before he was shoving three fingers into your pussy at the same time he put two fingers in your mouth, choking you as he shoved them down your throat before you were able to relax. He groaned when you started sucking on him, swirling your tongue around his digits while his vibranium fingers curled inside of you against that sweet spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull.

He felt you clench around him everywhere and let out a groan into your hair, his cock twitching inside you as you both neared your ends.

He ground his palm against your clit and you were finished, sobbing around his fingers as you squirted your release all over his hands, his thighs, and the seat in what was the biggest orgasm of your life. Your body tried to lift itself off the seat as you came, your vision whiting out as your muscles stopped working and Bucky let you collapse forward as he finished.

Another few thrusts of his stuttering hips and he let out a wordless roar as he came inside you, filling you completely with his spend until it was leaking out around his cock. He collapsed on top of you as his body rolled on a wave of pleasure, his breath hitching in his chest.

The two of you laid there tangled with each other for what felt like hours. You were so utterly spent that the passage of time no longer held any meaning, and you completely forgot where you were.

“Holy fuck.” Bucky muttered after a while, still unable to move anything except his face, which he nuzzled into your hair.

“Yeah.” You muttered into the seat cushions, your brain finally resetting.

“I mean, holy fuck.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah.” You said again, wiggling your toes look experimentally as your body started to come back down.

“I’ve never cum that hard before in my life.” He muttered as he drew his hands over your arms until they were pressing into your shoulders, moving your hair aside so he could pepper kisses all over your neck.

“Me either.” You whispered, turning your head over your shoulder so you could press your lips to his softly.

He pulled away once he was able, giving you a sloppy grin as he managed to sit up, pulling out of you gingerly and groaning at the sight of his cum leaking out of you. You twisted until you were able to sit up yourself, leaning back against the car door as you beamed back at him.

“Best fucking Valentine’s Day ever.” He muttered, drawing you onto his lap to kiss you deeply, and wondering if it would be too tacky to tell you he loved you after the first time you let him fuck your ass.

Tags!!!!!

@buckysnumberonegirl @slothspaghettiwrites @captain-asguard @starlightcrystalline @harrysthiccthighss @quxxnxfhxll @bonkywobble @chrisevanscardigan @chubbybuckydumpling @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld @fistmebuckyskywalker @wandering-spiritash @khadineberry @muzzyandbusy @slytheriin2002 @isysen @WanderingAlice00 @kaleeelizabeth58 @tlcwrites @angrybirdcr @unsaltedalmonds @amerikakapitanyy @lizette50 @daughterofthenight117 @obsessivereaderchick @drabblewithfrannybarnes @stargazingfangirl18 @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares @msmarvelwrites

[sailorhyunjinz]

How would skz as types of drivers for you? [Dón't think bad] -🐤🐾🐺

OH SO LIKE TYPES OF DRIVERS BASICALLY

aight lego-

ALSO REQUESTS ARENT OPEN SO DONT START YALL I LOVE YOU GUYS BUT,,, the drafts are quaking rn

Chan

he's like,,, very confident behind the wheel

like he knows how to drive in a good pace whilst also being a respectful driver

omg always always always waves at old people to cross the road with a smile

always stops for everyone

the amount of wunderbaum in this mans car is phenomenal

why do i see him being annoyed at the prices of a car?

like the insurance and parking and the inspections

he acts like a dad of 4 whenever he has to like pack his car for a trip

SHAHSAHSH PLEASE ALSO THE WHOLE DAD OUTFIT AND HIS FUCKING HONDA CIVIC MAKES ME LAUGH

he's a classy dilf basically

omg please why can i see him driving a volvo sooooo fucking clearly

yes daddy, run me over with your family car <33

Minho

this car EX-PEN-SIVE

he aint being caught dead in a cheap fucking honda

he isnt like agressive but definitely annoyed

he sighs loudly whenever someone cuts infront of him or just yells

every time one of the cats are every hurt or need to go to the vet he makes sure that they have like little seats and their leashes on even if they fucking hate it

no fucking plastic cat cages in his car

why does he swerve so fucking much? like alright,,, we see you but drive me and stop playing around

he doesnt drive an automatic because he cant drive a manual but because an automatic car is a lifestyle <33

he only drives white or black cars

also hates driving other peoples cars because they are "dirty"

as if he cleans his own car pfffft

Changbin

why he so violent

just the actual manifestation of road rage

every time he drives its like you sit beside lucifers son-

just swearword after swearword

sir please stop honking

always has rolled down windows and like one arm resting on the door, one hand on the wheel yaknow ;))

and he wears like sunglasses too AHSHAHS PLEASE STOP PLAYING COOL MISTER

why does he have a old ass pet bottle with water in his trunk along with like silvertape?

CLEAN YOUR FUCKING CAR

does it like once in a blue moon

omg he definitely has like the black out window thingies on his car

i mean for reasons i dont need to mention~~

Hyunjin

i just know that he has like a pink fur thingy on his wheel or like a shiny decal thingy-

checks himself out in the rearview mirror way too many times

might or might not be an actual danger in trafic since he will scroll on his phone or like fix his hair-

the best bops tho, hand him the aux cable he knows whats up

i just think that he has decals all over his fucking car and OH GOD you know those dice that can hang from the inner rearview mirror?? peak whore culture but i love it <33

he loves giving you rides, picks up all his friends

legit "get in, we're going shopping"

man why does he have so many coins in the cup holder along with empty energy drink cans?

ok we get it caffeine addict <33

Jisung

honestly i dont know,,, he's easily scared and kinda skittish so i feel like that wouldnt translate into him being the best driver

but thats because he's actually scared LMAO

how the fuck did he pass his driving test??

"wait,,, i think i poured the windscreen washer fluid into the wrong pipe"

his fridge is just full of speeding tickets or tickets for like wrong parking

i will not be surprised if his car just gets towed one day

angrily talking and yelling over the phone about him forgetting to pay his ticket

that fucking GPS is his bestie

its impossible to count how many times he's gotten lost and been very late to an important thing

why does he suck at parking

Felix

always leaves his keycars on the table with a sly smirk just to flex what kind of car he's driving

omg the amount of like,,, stories and shit whenever he buys a car LMAO

why does he have every flavour gum in his car?

and please dont open the glove compartment,,,,its home for countless amounts of more gum

oh its adorable how he likes driving to the beach with his friends or like drive to get boba or smth

also just driving around with his partner during the late hours, seeing all the buildings and their lights

maybe or maybe not make out on the hood of his car idk

he has like a stuffed animal in his trunk or smth as a mascot or in the backseat

Seungmin

a very calm driver

being completely honest i think he prefers like,,, biking or walking

will start some conversation about how driving is bad for the environment and how he feels good about not contributing to that

NO WAIT THIS MF OWNS AN ELECTRIC CAR

good luck trying to find a place to charge it

his car is soon clean? LIKE HE WASHES IT AND DOES ALL THE NICE THINGS TO IT

it even smells good yall

like riding in his car is a fucking experience, 10/10 uber driver

he will like hand out the aux cord

OR NO HE GOES LIKE FULL DAD MODE AND HUSHES EVERYONE WHEN ITS NEWS ON THE RADIO LMAO

he's just a simple soul when it comes to driving <33

Jeongin

mans just scared

lives with the scary thought that cars can explode because he saw it in a movie

he cannot drive with other people in the car

i just see the others pressuring him into driving whenever they are going on a trip and him just freaking out, dolphin scream behind the wheel

i mean his driving is,,, rather unstable but he's surprisingly good at locating places

he dreams of like being able to go on late night drives but he gets too scared because what if its too dark and he accidentally runs something over

nah thats actually his worth nightmare ; running over an animal

drive through king <33

he loves drive throughs LMAO BECAUSE ITS FOOD AND DUH he's worth it after almost risking his life on the road

[smol-and-grumpy]

Cross My Heart - CH.15

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x Reader; Chuck Shurley x Reader

Summary: After opening up a letter, the life as she knows it, changes forever. Her husband hires Dean Winchester to protect her but is Dean really who he said he was? And is her husband really worried about her safety?

Warnings: Flangst

WC: 2636

SERIES MASTERLIST

Y/N manages to get Dean to sit down on the closed toilet lid because she wants to tend to his wound. He only has a towel wrapped around him. A small one too, for that matter, because she has the last big towel wrapped around herself. 

She’s standing between his spread thighs and Dean sits perfectly still, only flinches a little when she takes his band aid off, which prompts her to laugh, “Oh, come on, you are a big tough guy,”

“Well,” Dean chuckles, “You’re not exactly a light handed doctor, ripping it off like that,”

“I’d be careful what you say,” She warns him before spraying disinfectant on the wound, shielding his eyes with the palm of her hand. Dean flinches again, his hands coming up to touch the side of her thighs.

She’s working swiftly while he skims his fingertips over her thighs, rubbing up and down, distracting her.

When she peels the band aid out of it’s foil, Dean has managed to tug at her towel so hard it comes right off, and pools around her ankles. 

“You’re distracting me,” She says, and moves closer, to place the band aid directly over his wound. He’s close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her chest. 

Dean only chuckles lightly, his big palms stroking up her thighs and higher, until he has both her ass cheeks in the palm of his hands. “You’re distracting me,” He says, throwing her words back at her. 

Before she can step away, Dean’s holding her back, his face comes forward, suck in her nipple, his tongue tickling it inside of his mouth until it hardens and she keens, placing her hands behind the back of his neck.

Y/N looks down to him, sees the towel tenting around his hips and she has to laugh, “What’s wrong with you? We just fucked and you’re ready to go again?”

He releases her nipple, looks up and places his chin on her stomach, smiles at her with a boyish smile that makes him look younger than he is, “Can’t help it. You turn me on so fucking much.”

She rolls her eyes, peels herself away from him and he just chuckles.

“Anywhere else you’re hurt?”

Dean grins and places his index finger to his lips, “Yeah, here,”

He’s totally cute. She doesn’t want to admit it, though. Leaning in, she pecks his lips, parts only so much that she can talk, “Anywhere else?”

“Yeah, but that would mean that we’ll get dirty again.” He says with a wink and she has to laugh before she pushes herself up.

While she puts the first aid kit back into place, Dean’s phone rings and he walks out to pick it up.

She follows and she can’t help but watch him. He’s standing there in only the little towel around his hips, the tent still very much erect and the way he talks with his hand, chest muscle moving, it turns her on, too.

Slipping into the bedroom, she gets dressed, leaving Dean some privacy to talk. When she walks out, she hears him ending the call and he looks at her, a frown etched deep into his face.

“What now?” She asks, because really, what is it now? 

Dean shakes his head, “I’ll get an email. I’ll tell you when it’s here.” 

She’s sitting at the table and waits for Dean to get dressed. When he walks out, she can hear a ping, it signals that an email has arrived.

Sitting down on the chair next to her, Dean clicks on it. It opens up to a copy of a document and he tilts the screen towards her, “Does this look familiar to you?”

Y/N squints her eyes and then her jaw drops. She gasps, clasps her hand over her mouth but she can’t tear her eyes away from the document. There’s something written in big bold letters LIFE INSURANCE. And there’s her name, and Chuck’s and it’s a sum of $10 million in case of her death. 

“You didn’t sign it, did you?” Dean asks to be sure, even though he can see from her reaction that she’s never seen it before in her life.

“This is the first time I see this,” She feels her heart racing, “No, no, no.” She says, over and over. There’s something clutching at her chest, it makes it harder for her to breathe.

Dean immediately picks her up, walks her to the couch and sits down with her on his lap. He pulls her head to his chest, “Breath, baby. Breath with me, alright?”

She listens to his heartbeat, listens to his even breathing and tries to match hers to his.

After a while, when her breathing got back to normal, Dean made her look at him “You okay?”

“Not really,” She sighs, “How did you get this?”

“Ash’s my tech guru. I ask him to do some digging,” He huffs out a breath, “This is fucked up. I guess he won’t stop until you’re dead.”

Ash. The name does ring a bell. That’s the guy he went to see while she talked to Cas. Dean already suspected Chuck back then. 

“Well, that’s really reassuring,”

Dean scoffs, “You know what I mean.”

She does. 

“What can we do? Shall we contact the police now?”

“That would be the best,” He agrees and places his lips to her temple, lingers there, “Let me make some calls. I know just someone who could help.”

 ***

 It’s a day later that Dean manages to reach the person he wanted to. Benny, he said. He was an ex-marine as well. It seems like they are a well-knitted bunch of people who once have sworn to fight together and trust each other. She admires that. Admires their loyalty. It’s nothing close to what she has. Meg is an exception to the rule here.

Benny is now a detective with the police but he’s not responsible for this district, but maybe Benny could help contact the right people. Dean’s been nervous about contacting him. He said that he hates to ask for help from anyone. 

Dean walks out of the bedroom where he has been talking to Benny, a little smirk on his face, “Good, he said we’ll have to send him what we know and he’ll see where he can direct it to.” He sits down on his laptop and begins to send all the files that he has. 

 *

 It’s later in the afternoon that she feels her boobs hurting. It’s not a good sign. Dean’s in the kitchen, doing some dishes when she walks in, “I think my period is approaching.” She says it like it is, there’s no need to hide because they’re sticking together like glue and she needs tampons.

He looks at her, one eyebrow raised, “I’ll go get them.”

How did she know that he’ll say that?

“I’m coming with you,” She crosses her arms over her chest and watches Dean dry his hands before walking over to her, rubs at her upper arm, his lips pressed into a thin line, his dimples are showing. 

“I should have never promised,” He mumbles, his hands come up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You crossed your heart,” She reminds him which makes him smirk. 

He walks out into the living room then, grabs his duffel, takes out something and she follows. When she’s close enough, he throws a little square plastic thing to her, she manages to catch it. 

“In case someone needs to see it.” Dean says.

Turning it around in her hands she sees the word KANSAS. It’s a Kansas driver’s license. And there’s a picture of her, there’s her name but it’s not her last name. Instead of Shurley, there’s another name.

WINCHESTER.

Dean made her a fake ID? With his name? 

“When did you manage to pull this off?”

His smile is cocky, “Remember when I went into town the first time?” He asks and puts on his leather jacket, “You told me that you’d like a new identity. Bobby made it.”

“So, what am I to you? Your sister? Your wife?” She teases him because she likes to see the blush of his cheeks.

“You could also be my grandmother for all I know,” He says with a straight face and a shrug of his shoulders that makes her roll her eyes and maybe she’s pouting a little. 

Dean walks closer, the smile tugging away at the corner of his lips. He takes her jacket from the back of the chair and holds it out to her, “Come on, before you bleed to death.”

She wears it, and he drapes one arm over her shoulder, pulls her in for a peck on her forehead, “Granny,” He says and laughs and she elbows him in his ribs. 

 *

 They arrive at the nearest store, which maybe, she thinks, it’s also the only store around here. 

Dean gets off the bike first and takes off his helmet. She takes hers off too and magically, Dean produces a baseball cap out of somewhere and places it on her head before he lifts her off the bike. 

Before they go in, he turns to her, “Okay, we go in, get what we want and then we’re out, you understand? You go look for your, whatever you need, and while I’m here I get some more things.”

“Condoms?” She asks, smiles smugly. 

He has to laugh out loud, “I think it’s too late for that,”

“It’s never too late,” She says with a straight face to which Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to get them?”

She laughs then, thinks it’s so easy to rile him up. Standing on her tip toe, she cranes her neck, whispers into his ear, “No, I like for you to fuck me raw.”

Standing back, she watches him. Watches his face change from confusion to being turned on at her nasty words. 

He spreads his lips, his grin cocky, and he lowers himself, to whisper into her ear, “Good, because I love to feel how wet you are for me.” Dean boops her nose before he turns and starts to walk towards the entrance, turns around again to call out for her to follow. She’s been frozen in place, her face flush.

The bell rings when they step in and she immediately feels like all eyes are on her. Which is probably not the case. She just can’t shake off the feeling. 

She walks past a stack of magazines, sees some tabloid ones with her face on the front page. Thankfully it’s not a big picture. Dean quickly takes her hand and pulls her to the back, searching for the sanitary aisle with her. 

He did leave her to look at what she needs while he goes and buys some other things and while she stands there, she can swear that the young teen girl is staring at her. She pulls her cap further down her head. 

Grabbing at a package of tampons, she heads out of the aisle to search for Dean. It’s not a big shop. It’s probably the smallest grocery store she’s been in. Probably six long aisles, at most, so it’s not hard to find Dean. 

What she didn’t expect, though, is to find Dean talking to Liz. She has a young child with her, the boy is probably about six years old if she has to guess, but she’s never been good at guessing the age of children.

She stands there, dumbfounded, has the feeling that she’s intruding if she interrupts. Dean’s talking to Liz and then turns his attention to the little boy. He looks remarkably like Dean. And it shouldn’t affect her, because they’re nothing official — in fact, they’re probably as far away from official as it could get — but it does. There’s little pin pricks she feels in her heart.  

The boy tells Dean something and he kneels down to understand him better. They were talking and laughing. Dean’s so gentle with the boy and his smile is so wide and bright. She wonders if Dean ever thought that his life would be better if he would have stayed with Liz. He wouldn’t have to be on the run, he wouldn’t have to risk his life again. They could be a little happy family. She wonders if Dean ever wants children. And if yes, if he wants them with her. Which is a stupid thought, if she’s honest. They aren’t at the stage yet where they are in the position to discuss the future. If there’s a future at all.

Chuck never did want kids. The company was Chuck’s child. That’s why she agreed to the IUD. She thinks that the last time, she didn’t even needed to replace it because they stopped having sex way before that but she got so used to it, that’s why it’s still there at all. 

“Hey,”

Dean’s voice jerks her back to reality. 

She watches him walk over to her, a basket with groceries in his hand, and he holds it out for her to drop her package of tampons inside. She keeps her head low, doesn’t want the teen to come around snooping which prompts Dean so place his hand on the back of her neck and he lowers himself.

“Look at me,” He whispers, “You okay?”

Looking up a little, she tries to smile but fails. She can see from the corner of her eyes that Liz is staring at them with annoyance in her eyes, “I— there’s a teenager staring at me. I think she might have recognized me.”

“Okay,” Dean says, takes her hand and looks around, “Let’s go,” 

They walk past Liz who loudly calls out after Dean but he doesn't stop. He brings her to the counter, and opens his arms for her to crawl into while they wait for the cashier to scan all the things, shielding her from curious eyes. And after he pays, they walk outside and she gets on the bike while Dean secures their groceries on the motorcycle behind her. 

He comes to stand next to her after, taking the cap from her head and holds out her helmet for her to take. 

“Liz obviously wasn’t finished talking,” She says bluntly, because she sees inside the store and Liz is still looking at her like she’s something really disgusting to look at.

Dean braces his hands on his bike, caging her in and  looks back over his shoulder to see where Y/N’s looking at before he turns back with a scoff. He looks back at her, the corner of his lips turning up into a grin, “You jealous?”

“Nah,” She tries to laugh it off.

He grins some more, before his face comes closer. Dean’s just an inch away, she can feel his breath on her.

“Liar,” He whispers before he kisses her. His tongue teases along her lips and of course she lets him in, welcomes the velvety smooth of his tongue, welcomes the taste of him. She can never get enough of it. He parts before it can get too heavy but she still feels something warm and wet between her thighs that she’s sure is not blood.

Dean pecks her nose and chuckles, “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m no—,”

“Of course,” 

“But is that her child?”

Dean leaves a lingering kiss on her forehead before he sighs, “Let’s get you back first, okay?”

He winks before he gets on the bike and puts his helmet on. He waits for her to put on hers and she can see that Liz is walking out, her lips pressed into a thin line and a frown etched deep on her forehead. 

CH.16

[rebelwrites]

Chapter Twenty Two: What’s The Plan?

A/N I don’t think there is any warnings on this one but let me know if there is. As always feedback is appreciated 💜

Join The Group Chat Here // Chapter List / Masterlist // March Writings

It had been a week and a half since Brooke had woken, she was bored, wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed rather than the uncomfortable hospital beds. Xavier kept bringing her home cooked food as she refused to eat the food from here.

“Hey bumble” Xavier grinned walking into the room.

“Well you smell better” Brooke giggled as she took the bag of food from him.

“Somebody is in a better mood today” he smiled sitting on the edge of the bed.

“The doctor said I might be able to go home today, they just want to run a few more tests” She smiled as she took a bite out of the burger.

“That’s amazing baby” Xavier grinned “I can’t wait until you are home because sleeping without you sucks”

Everyone always judged Xavier, labelling him a criminal when in actual fact he was the biggest teddy bear and had the biggest heart ever.

“How are we feeling this morning?” The doctor smiled walking into the room.

“I feel a lot better” Brooke smiled “still have some pain but it’s manageable now”

“That’s good to hear” he smiled “so I have looked over your stats and test results and you are definitely improving and we are happy to release you. So if you can sign the discharge papers you are free to go”

Once the forms had been signed he smiled at you.

“On your way out you can pick up your pains meds, just follow the instructions on the bottle” he nodded before walking out the room.

“Come on let’s get you home” Xavier grinned.

“I don’t have any clothes” Brooke laughed looking down at the hospital gown.

“I may have known you were getting released today so brought some clothes with me” Xavier smirked placing a bag on the bed.

Once Brooke had got changed they headed outside.

“Thought you’d be on your bike?” Brooke asked as Xavier helped her into the car.

“I was but Doc said you can’t ride for at least another two weeks” he said.

“Urgh that sucks” Brooke pouted making him laugh. “Can we head to the tattoo studio, I seem to be missing a certain somebody's name”

“As you wish” he smirked before climbing into the driver's seat.

The drive was short but Brooke still managed to zone out, getting lost in her thoughts.

“Baby we are here” he smiled, cutting the engine. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about how much my life has changed in the last couple of months” Brooke said with a whisper.

“I hope that’s a good thing” Xavier smiled, kissing the top of her head.

“It is, Xav you have changed my life in so many ways I can’t begin to describe it” she whispered as the walked into the tattoo studio.

As Brooke laid back in the chair she moved her vest too and bra strap out of the way so Kev could work his magic. She had fallen in love with the design he had drawn up but it took him a little longer than Xavier’s due to the details and tattling over scar tissue.

But the finished art was beautiful.

“It’s perfectly Brooke whispered as she checked it out in the mirror.

“Well Xav rung me this morning and told me what you wanted and that you wanted it to cover a scar so I thought incorporating the scar into it rather than covering it would work” Kev smiled.

“It does perfectly” Brooke smiled as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

She couldn’t believe how in such a short space of time her life had changed so much. The was one more thing that needed to happen before she could move into the next chapter of her life.

She needed to kill Tom.

As they walked back into the club house, Xavier wrapped his arm around Brooke’s waist. It was the best feeling in the world knowing that she was home. Everyone was so happy that she was home and okay. But with everyone coming up to hug her Xavier could tell the attention was getting too much so he stood behind her wrapping her arms around her waist, resting his head on hers. Instantly he felt her relax into his touch.

“I hate to cut this short but church in five” Alex shouted over the noise.

“You don’t need to come in if you want?” Xavier whispered.

Brooke spun around in his arms placing her hand on his cheek.

“I want to be in there,” she whispered, kissing him softly.

“If it gets too much don’t be afraid to walk out okay” he whispered kissing her back before she wiggled out of his arms heading into church.

As soon as Xavier had taken his place he pulled Brooke onto his knee, wrapping his arms around her waist once again. As soon as everyone had taken their seat Alex slammed the gavel on the table.

“It’s so good to see you back home Bee” Alex smiled “maybe Xavier will stop being a whiny bitch now”

“Cheers old man” Xavier laughed rolling his eyes.

“So we know that Xavier has had bigger things to think about so I took over the search for Tom” James nodded “and after a few choice words from Bee it gave me the kick up the ass I needed. The stupid fucker Met in a cafe and was talking about his next move”

Xavier felt Brooke tense underneath him, placing a kiss on her shoulder then gave her a squeeze.

“It’s okay, you are safe I’ve got you” he whispered before turning to James “so what’s his next move”

“Ambushing us again” James sighed pausing before carrying on “I do have a plan but I don’t know if you are going to like it”

“James” Xavier growled trying to contain his anger “what’s the plan”

“We get Brooke to arrange to meet with Tom, make him think she wants to go back”

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober Day 7

Support | Carrying

Ao3

Warnings: Gunshot wounds, blood, canon typical violence

-o-o-o-o-

Here was the thing about fighting crime in Gotham. Well, or just fighting crime in general. Sometimes things just went wrong and there was nothing you could do about it. You could be the most powerful superhuman in the world, or the most skilled martial artist, or have a reputation to the moon and had the documentation to prove that reputation wasn't complete bull. 

No matter who you were, sometimes you got hurt from a dumb thing. A thing you could have avoided. A thing that you most certainly will beat yourself up over in the coming weeks. 

Sometimes a stray bullet just happened to ricochet juuuuust right off the concrete walls and into the back of your hip while you were fighting crime in the streets. 

When Jason felt the intense pain of the aforementioned stray bullet entering his flesh, it took every ounce of will power he had to not cry out or fall down. 

"Hood!" 

He heard Nightwing call his name. The idiot practically begged for tonight's brotherly bonding session and Jason wanted nothing more than to look up and glare at him. Saying: "let's patrol together, Jason! It will be fun , Jason!"

He didn't for a number of reasons. Mostly because he couldn't say his real name out loud; though he supposed he could say 'Hood'?. Anyway, it was also kinda because he had his helmet on and it was sorta hard to glare through it unless he had the helmet literally sculpted into a glare. Partly because the pain was muting even though the bullet couldn't have gone that deep. It should have lost power while bouncing off the stone bricks, and the material of his jacket and under armor should have stopped it a little . All the way if it hit right. But it didn't hit right. Somehow, it came at him in that very specific angle that Kevlar didn't like. 

He had a bullet in his hip. He could feel warm blood pouring out of a hole in his body, trickling down the back of his legs and ever so slowly becoming painfully stabbing. 

So while Jason wanted to joke, look up at his dumb older brother and tease that this is why they don't do things together, it was all he could do maneuver his arms so he didn't faceplant when his hip eventually gave out. 

And oh yeah. The pain was definitely settling in now. It forced his eyes to widen and tear up, his hands to clench, his arms to twitch as his body desperately tried to figure out what to do without his consent. He wanted to grab at the wound, which was good right? Stop the blood flow? But it was at an awkward position behind him, and he was sure there were still thugs in the alleyway; he kinda really didn't want to be seen clutching his ass in front of them all. 

So he sorta just... laid there pathetically, hating how a simple patrol turned out like this; with Jason laying in a growing puddle of his own blood.

This was Dick's fault. Jason was sure. When he got the medical treatment he needed, he was definitely going to hold this above Goldie's head for the rest of time and eternity. 

Although, quicker than what he expected, Dick was by his side with eyes comically wide behind his mask, hands hovering over Jason like he wasn't sure what to touch or where to apply pressure. Jason had just the presence of mind to remember that he was hit by a ricochet bullet, shot in the back by a projectile that should have, by all means, missed. Dick wouldn't have seen him get shot, just the aftermath. The poor idiot was babbling like a soaking wet domesticated house cat, probably thinking he was shot somewhere much more important than his rear end. Like his heart or something. 

"Hip-" Jason gasped, and then groaned when hands immediately landed at the area just to the side of the small of his back. It hurt like a bitch, that was for sure, but it really couldn't have gotten that deep. It probably just entered him at an angle instead of straight on. More torn flesh that way. And Jason knew from experience that the pain of a wound didn’t necessarily correlate with how deep the said wound ran. It could be how long it was. How gaping. How beaten and bruised. 

It seemed silly to drop from a wound such as this. He could hear Dick muttering about how it didn't look horrible and that Jason probably didn't need a hospital and most likely didn't get hit in the bone, but it still hurt. A lot. 

He sucked in a deep, lungful of air, then forced his head to turn towards where they had been previously fighting a group of thugs who thought they could mug some beanpole old man. Confusion washed over him slowly. The thugs… they were so determined to fight Nightwing and Red Hood when they showed up. One of them was even bragging about having fought one of the bats before. Which Jason doubted. They probably ran away from whatever illegal activity they were doing before the bats actually arrived, but put that little white lie on their criminal resume to get hired for big gigs more easily. If they'd fought a bat before, they wouldn't be so excited to fight them again. 

Regardless, the guy was excited and trigger happy, even after the man they were trying to mug managed to escape. You could probably guess who managed to get a one-in-a-million shot on Jason without having to be told.

That all added up to why Jason was confused at this moment, laying on the ground, hands on his back that pressed down with way more force than Jason thought necessary. The alley was empty. Not a thug in sight. No unconscious bodies with hands restrained and a note taped to their foreheads for the cops. Nada. Goose Egg.

"Wh- where-?" Jason tried, but talking made everything hurt . 

Thankfully though, Dick knew what he was trying to ask. "They ran off after they realized they shot you. Got cold feet."

Jason opened his mouth, but ground it shut as Dick increased the pressure with one hand and removed the other to probably get some bandages going. Jason just breathed for a moment. Catch his breath. Bring the focus of his attention away from the hole in his back to return to the matter at hand. 

When Dick pressed a thick sheet of cotton over the wound, Jason knew the next few minutes would be agonizing; as Jason would soon be sat up to allow bandages to be freely wrapped around his hips and stomach. He opened his mouth before Dick could begin the process and forced the words out.

"You let them run?"

"Of course," Dick grumbled, and Jason wasn't sure if he said it as a “ yes Jason, because I love you I let the enemies go so I could take care of you !” or a “ of course you'd ask this, geeze, so annoying…” kind of way.

Jason was offended either way. 

When Dick forced him up so he's sitting and leaning heavily against the older hero, he was positive he saw stars. Bright, flashing starts shining through the constant murk that was Gotham's sky. Or maybe he was just in intense pain. 

Oh well. 

Dick wrapped the wound—working with way more clockwork and practice than what any normal person without a medical degree should be able to do—then, at the count of three he lifted Jason by grabbing the arm of Jason's good side and wrapping it around his shoulders. Jason could barely contain a yelp as he was lifted to his feet. His hip screamed at him, trying to get him to fall back down and just lay there. Probably just die there. He had to force every ounce of his willpower into moving his good leg, dragging his bad one behind him, as Dick struggled to carry his weight out of the alleyway. 

Not so happy to be small and quick now, huh Grayson? Rethinking those offers Jason had made months ago to teach you how to go make more muscle and maybe even get a little taller? Pathetic. Can't even drag Jason's injured ass out of an alleyway without breaking a sweat on your forehead. 

"M'not that heavy," Jason grumbled anyways though when Dick began to release small, panting puffs of air.

"You're heavier than B," Dick wheezed, "so shut the fuck up."

Jason lifted an eyebrow under his helmet. He was sure Dick could sense his amusement, if the twitch of his lips were anything to go by. "How do you know how heavy B is?" 

"Oh you know," Dick said in a mock-sigh, his voice almost singsong, "I'm always saving everyone's asses. Drag each of you to a med bay at least once a month. Did you know Orphan is heavier than Red but not as heavy as Spoiler?"

"Do you want Orphan and Eggplant to kill you?"

Dick let out a bubbling laugh, which made Jason wonder if Tim, Cass, then Steph was really the order of that scale. Jason wouldn’t linger on it for long though, because they've finally made it to where they've parked their bikes. Jason immediately began to plan on how he was going to ride to his nearest house without passing out in Gotham late-night traffic. The dead-hours of night always brought out the best and worst in Gotham drivers. He'd have to manage. He did it before. 

However, all of his plans suddenly flew out the window as Dick disregarded his own blue and black bike and proceeded to try and force Jason into the passenger seat of his own bike. 

"I can-"

"I'll cuff you if I have to Hood," Dick snapped, though there was mirth and amusement in his tone. "I'm driving you."

"You're not ," Jason grunted though clenched teeth as he inevitably lost the battle with Dick and was forced into the passenger space. "You're gonna take me to the manor if I let you drive."

"Yeah?"

" No ."

Dick sighed then stepped away from the bike, planting hands on his hips as he gave that disappointed older brother pout he'd been working on and improving for the past decade. It worked on most everyone except Jason and maybe Cass. Jason was immune to the Older Brother Pout™. Still didn't stop Dick from giving it. 

"Little Wing, you have a bullet in your back."

"Woah, thanks for telling me, I didn't know!" 

Now Dick looked a little annoyed. Good. "Jay-"

"No," Jason snapped, desperately wanting to stand up and cuss him out like he deserved. "We'll go to my safehouse."

"What one?" Dick argued and angrily Jason threw his hands in the air on instinct. 

The action sent bolts into his back, making his brain short circuit as his body tried to figure out if it wanted to bend forward or back. In the end, it didn't matter, because like the absolute bastard he was, Dick used his pain as a distraction to jump onto the sitting space in front of him. He turned on the engine and Jason felt himself go boneless, the pain of the wound on his back ate up his energy more violently than a crocodile. His metal helmet slammed against Dick's back, and when he felt the bike jolt with motion, he angrily, carefully, and reluctantly wrapped his arms around Dick's waist. 

"'ny of them," Jason mumbled, blinking blurry shapes from the corners of his eyes. "Ju's don' take me t'the manor…" 

"Alright," Dick chimed, revving the engine. He sounded too happy about something, but Jason was too focused on holding on and ignoring the pounding hole in his back to question it too much. 

Dick drove with more caution than what he normally did. Jason had ridden with Dick on bikes and in cars before, and the guy is borderline psychotic while driving. Jason supposed it was because his adrenaline junky tendencies mixed with the famous Blüdhaven road rage to create a man to be feared on any sane roads. Or as same as Gotham got. Jason swore Dick was always on the horn, always looking for that split second window to speed up and get to where he wanted as fast as possible. He wasn't a dangerous driver, just one that wasn't one to trifle with when in the zone of driving. Yet now, while the speed was fast and the spaces between cars was utilized to get the cycle through quicker, there were hardly any other risks involved. No running lights, no cutting it close between cars, no sharp and split second turns. Everything was calculated and smooth, and Jason made a mental note to mention it to him later. 

So you do know how to drive?

With the hum of the engine and the warm body in front of him, it became rather difficult to keep his eyes open. A weary cloud had slowly begun to settle around him, probably not because of any blood-loss but because of falling levels of adrenalin and perhaps mild shock. He squeezed his arms tight around Dick's chest—he silently promised that if Dick mentioned this as a hug he would lose it—and let his eyes fall shut. He would just rest them… for a little while. He had a long night ahead of him. One of digging out a bullet and stitching the wound shut. He should guilt trip Dick into going out to buy ice cream or takeout chinese later.

And thankfully, focusing on the sounds around him by having his eyes closed helped him ignore the pain. Well, not all of it. It was there. Just… muted. 

He could relax to this. 

It was a pity all the peace and relaxation left the moment the bike suddenly dipped in altitude, the sounds of the city becoming the seemingly endless echoes of the bike itself. Jason snapped open his eyes, recognizing the dark tunnel around him. A growl escaped his throat. 

"Dick," he hissed. Or well, grumbled. His voice was slurred and definitely sounded as tired as he felt. 

"Yup?" Dick replied like he was innocent. Jason will kill him. 

"Safe. House."

"Yup." He popped the "p" on that one. Alright. Jason will definitely kill him. 

"This isn't my safe house," he growled, putting as much force as he could into each syllable. " No manor."

"Kay," Dick hummed, "but I don't know where any of your safehouses are. So I thought, Jason doesn't want the manor, so where's the next best place?"

"The manor includes the cave, Dickhead!"

"Y'know, everytime you insult me with my own name it just gets more and more sad."

Jason wanted to scream. "I'll show you what's sa-"

The tunnel opened up, revealing one of the last places Jason was in the mood to be at. The Batcave was just as large, impressive, and condescending as ever. Dick came to a stop near where the rest of the vehicles in the cave were parked, killed the engine, then stuffed the keys into his gauntlets so Jason couldn't snatch them and drive away in a pain filled haze and probably crash in the straight and narrow tunnel used to get here. Dick looked up from the bike, smiled, and waved. 

Jason wanted to shoot something. With rubber bullets, don't worry, but he still wanted to shoot something. 

Of course Batman and Robin couldn't be out in the city right now. Of course they were right here, a good distance away near the batcomputer, both standing up to curiously regard their guests. 

"Don't tell the truth of how it happened," Jason said quickly.

Dick scoffed and dropped his hand, using the other to tear off the edge of his mask. "I don't even really understand what happened-"

Jason glared. "Just make me sound cool, alright? I have a reputation. Can't have them know I was taken out by street level thugs."

"Don't worry, Jay," Dick assured, jumping off the bike and grabbing Jason's arm again, grunting under the weight to eventually help Jason to his feet. "I'll make sure your ego isn't bruised."

"Ya better."

"Richard," came the voice of the most tater tot boy to ever tater tot. "… Jason." There was only one kid that could say someone's name like it was a poison that tasted good. Jason looked up from where he'd been focusing on his feet to see the kid had ran up to get ahead of the big man.

He grinned wickedly, because he loved watching the kid be a little unnerved by him. Not in a rude way. Just in a " hell yeah, little man, I'm your second eldest brother and you gotta respect me " kinda way. 

"Hey, short stack," Jason waved half-heartedly as Dick began to guide him over to the medbay. Alfred, who was standing by the computer, looked Jason up and down, sighed, then walked over to the medbay as well. "How's the cow? Ready for the grill yet?"

"Batcow is fine," Damian replied civilly. Jason wondered why that was. Normally the kid was ready to throw down at the slightest tiny itty bitty inkling of a suggestion of cooking any of his pets. Jason wasn't even subtle about it this time. And Damian also had issues with comments of his perfectly normal for a thirteen year-old shortness. Jason honestly expected reddening, bloating cheeks and narrowed eyes. Instead, Damian looked him up and down, his green eyes calculative and his posture looking oddly like he was trying to convince himself to say something more.

Luckily, or unluckily in many cases, Bruce came up before this odd little exchange could be explored more. 

"What happened?" He demanded in that worried-but-constipated-about-it way of his that he was always so good at.

Jason saw Dick open his mouth and he prepared himself for the coming lecture. Always be ready for an attack, Jason. Be prepared for anything. Even if the enemy is low level street muggers who barely even know how to hold a gun, Jason. Ugh. 

"I shot Jason."

Aaaand Jason now remembered that Dick was literally the worst liar in the whole entire goddamn world. Alright. Jason could work with this. 

"Yup. Dick shot me," Jason agreed, probably enjoying Bruce's frown way too much. Bruce walked around towards their backs and Jason fought a tense as a hand barely even brushed across the bandage around his lower abdomen. 

"Richard wouldn't shoot anyone, even someone as annoying as you," Damian argued, looking genuinely outraged and confused. 

"I'm sorry, Dami," Dick continued, sighing in mock apology as he continued to drag Jason closer to the medbay. "I finally snapped."

"No you didn't!" 

"I did, and I'll do it again!"

Jason tuned out the coming shouting match between a literal child and Damian. That would keep them occupied. He side-eyed over to where Bruce was walking besides them, looking torn between walking ahead to the bay or helping Dick carry Jason. It was times like these that Jason found himself more grateful than ever for his helmet, it allowed him to watch as Bruce has a whole mini crisis, trying to decide what to do with his hands, without Bruce actually seeing him paying attention to that stuff. 

"B," Jason tried, and somehow his voice carried over regardless of Damian's shouting about how Dick wasn't secretly a murderous psychopath who had been repressing his violent urges up until this point. Dick really was going to stick with that story huh?

Bruce's eyes flickered up towards Jason, looking immediately guarded. Jason knew it was a front. So he reached up with his free hand and took off his helmet. He proceeded to look Bruce directly in the eyes. 

He tried a smile, even though he really didn't want to be here in the cave right now. He'd rather be at home, watching replays of Harry Potter and stuffing his face with chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. But, he supposed, if he was going to be forced to be here via one stubborn prick of a brother, pun intended, then he was going to do his best to be as civil as Damian was a moment ago. 

He had a reputation to keep up, after all. Jason didn't get gunned down by street muggers, and he didn't lower himself below the only kid in the cave. 

"Why don'cha help out, yeah?" Jason asked, "Dick is tiny and slow and my back hurts."

Dick squawked. "I take offence to that! I might just shoot you again, Hood!" 

"Stop it Richard! You don't shoot people!"

"I can't help it, little D! The urge to shoot people is stronk ."

Damian groaned at the horrible attempt at gen z slang while Bruce slowly and almost... timidly grabbed Jason's other arm and immediately sped up the process of getting him towards the ever awaiting Alfred and the cot behind him. 

Jason tried to not focus too hard on that. Of how far they have fallen from when Jason was still young. Robin. Full of magic. 

He tried not to think about how far they have come from when Jason was stuffing heads in duffle bags. 

He just allowed Bruce to take him to the cot and gently set him down, shooing Dick and Damian away as Alfred approached with the tools he needed. 

Dick was correct in saying that the bullet didn't go in far, and Jason was right that it went in weirdly and that was why it was so painful. After an excruciating makeshift surgery and a stitching session, Jason reluctantly allowed himself to be lowered into the cot. He was all tuckered out. He was so tired from the entire night that he couldn't keep his eyes open, even though Bruce was in the same room and Jason still didn't feel comfortable being vulnerable around him. 

He might have imagined it, but when he was a sliver away from falling fully into a deep sleep, he might have felt something warm and calloused grab his hand and stroke the joint of Jason's thumb. The hands holding his own were easy to recognize. Bruce had unique hands. He might have felt weirded out by that, that Bruce was holding his hands as he fell asleep, or maybe annoyed. But like he said, he was too exhausted to really… care. 

Too tired to know if it was real. 

"I'm glad you're safe, Jay-lad," Bruce whispered. Or maybe he didn't. 

Jason was too far gone by then. 

[oboevallis]

advice pt2

my apologies this sucks and doesn’t really have a storyline, hope everyone’s staying safe, happy Halloween!

“It’s so good to see you.” Amelia said as she hugged her mother.

“It’s good seeing you too, and look at you, you look amazing for just having a baby.”

“Oh come on, now let me take your bag.” Amelia said as she tossed her mothers bag into the trunk of her car.

“Thanks for picking me up. It really wasn’t necessary, I would’ve taken a bus.” Carolyn said once Amelia got into the drivers seat.

“Mom, that’s ridiculous. It’s really no trouble.”

“So I’m assuming my newest grandson and Link are back at your place?”

“Yeah, we were thinking of going over to Merediths for dinner. If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, it’s been too long since I’ve seen the kids and Meredith.”

“Good, I know Zola will be excited to see you. She loves to show off all the tricks she’s been teaching their dog.” Carolyn smiled softly, Amelia assumed she was thinking about her late brothers love for dogs.

________________________________________

“Mrs Shepherd it’s so good to see you again.” Link smiled, offering his hand for her to shake.

“Nice seeing you as well Atticus. Please, call me Carolyn.”

“Only if you call me Link.” He said shooting her his charming smile.

“I think we can arrange that.” Carolyn smiled, and then directed to her attention back to her daughter who came into the living room carrying her son. “And this must be my new grandson.”

“Yep, this is Scout.” Amelia said admiring the baby propped on her hip.

“May I?” Carolyn asked holding out her arms for the small child.

“Of course” Amelia carefully shifted the baby into her arms. Links pager then started to beep quickly. “Why are they paging you?”

“No idea.” Link answered looking at the page. “I’ve gotta talk to the chief, she really needs to find another ortho surgeon who doesn’t call in sick every other day. I’ll meet you guys at Mer’s.”

“Okay see you there.” Amelia pecked her boyfriends lips, before he raced out the door which she locked behind him.

“Does he get paged a lot?” Carolyn asked sitting down on the couch.

“I mean for him being on paternity leave, yeah. It’s not his fault though, his fellow was supposed to take over his service, but he’s working a new job and the other ortho surgeon is incompetent. Tom has been covering my service though.”

“Grey-Sloan has become quite the hot spot, I can’t imagine a better offering coming up to someone.”

“He got a job as the Mariner’s team doctor. Link set it up, they offered him his old job back but he recommended Nico instead.”

“I hadn’t realized Link had worked for the Mariners. I’m surprised he turned the job down.”

“Yeah, well it’s a lot of travel, and Scouts so little so he decided to stay at Grey-Sloan.”

“Not a lot of men will let go of a job like that. Link seems like a really good man.”

“He is, and he’s so good to Scout. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, he’s just so perfect.” Amelia gushed, her boyfriend never ceases to amaze her with his kindness.

“So how has Scout’s colic been.”

“He’s doing a lot better, he’s starting to sleep through the night.”

“That must be a relief for you two.” Amelia hummed in agreement, and the two sat in silence before Amelia spoke up with a question.

“This may be a stupid question, but you know this stuff. He’s seem to lost interest in breastfeeding, like he’s on strike or something. What am I doing wrong?”

“Well I don’t think it’s anything you’ve done. It could be a number of things, he could be getting distracted by surroundings if he’s overstimulated, or he could be teething so his gums are sore. He’s still little so I wouldn’t stop. I suggest just being patient, and making sure surroundings aren’t overstimulating.” The neurosurgeons mother suggested. Amelia smiled.

“Thank you. It’s nice being able to go to you for advice now.”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t able to do so before.”

_____________________________________

“Meredith it’s so good to see you again.” Carolyn respectfully greeted when Meredith answered the door.

“You as well.” Meredith awkwardly hugged her mother in law. “The kids are just in the backyard playing with the dog.”

“Would you mind if I joined them?” Carolyn asked.

“No not at all.” Meredith smiled, once Carolyn was out of earshot she confronted Amelia. “Your mother absolutely hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, trust me. She absolutely hated Addison, we all had to make sure my mother was on her best behavior. I don’t have to worry she’s going to say something offense to you.” Meredith held her hands out for the small boy, which Amelia passed to her.

“That��s what Derek would say to me, but that was before I unplugged her son without her knowing.”

“Hmm, true.” Amelia bluntly agreed.

“That doesn’t help me, Amelia.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, she wouldn’t of come over.”

“She’s obligated to come over, those are her sons kids.”

“Are you spinning out?” Amelia chuckled. “I barely ever see this side of Meredith.”

“It’s only your mother who brings out this side of me.”

“She has that way over people.”

_____________________________________

“Hey sorry we’re late.” Link said walking into Merediths kitchen with Maggie and her boyfriend.

“It’s alright, we put your plates in the oven, hopefully theyre still warm.” Meredith said uncharacteristically cheerful. Link shot Amelia a confused look which Amelia giggled to.

“Oh, we just came to pick up some of my old notes from previous patients of mine, for a case.” Maggie said gesturing to her and her boyfriend, as the two left the kitchen.

“Is Scout asleep?” Link asked once he sat down next to his girlfriend.

“Yeah, he went down without a fight.”

“If you’ll excuse me I’m going to go put Ellis to bed.” Meredith gestured to her youngest asleep on the couch. Leaving Carolyn, the couple, and the older kids at the dinner table.

“So my daughter tells me you used to work for the Mariners.”

“Yeah, I did that for a while I really enjoyed it. I love working at Grey-Sloan though, I’m able to do research which I really enjoy.”

“Did they fire you? Because your not very good at hitting a baseball.” Bailey commented

“Well I was their team doctor I wasn’t playing for them, and I didn’t get fired. And if you recall, you were the one who was throwing the ball too low.”

“I’m working on it.” Bailey gave his uncle a double thumbs up. “We’re still going to play on Wednesday right? Maybe Scout can play?”

“Of course we are. But I think Scouts gonna stay with his mom, he’s still little.” Link wrapped his arm around his girlfriends shoulder.

“It’s time for bed you two.” Meredith came into the kitchen gesturing towards her children. They said their goodnights to everyone and made their way upstairs with their mother.

“So Link, tell me about yourself.”

“Mom.” Amelia quickly said, not wanting her boyfriend to feel uncomfortable.

“Oh it’s fine. Well Im a ortho surgeon, sure you probably knew that though. Umm, I’m pretty laid back stress free, but not too laid back like I can handle things.” Link quickly added not wanting to seem irresponsible. Amelia put his hand on his thigh to try to help calm him. “I-I hate avocados, I was a Cub Scout resulting in very good smore making, I can fix bikes pretty well, oh and I play blues guitar.”

“And you still haven’t written me that song.” Amelia added, to which Carolyn chuckled.

“Do you remember that song your brother wrote for Addison?”

“I never knew he could sing, it was quite awkward though. I don’t know what part of him thought that he should write her a song. I think he rhymed ‘Addison Fine Ass’ with ‘Gross anatomy class’”

“I doubt your brother wrote that, that has Mark written all over it.” Carolyn chuckled silently remnicing on when the two best friends were little and very much alive. The baby’s cries disrupting the moment, to which Amelia jumped up to go tend to the baby. Once Amelia was up the stairs Carolyn continued. “I’m going to be honest with you Link. I like you, I’ve never seen my daughter this genuinely happy. I have you to thank for that. And I’d say we didn’t pick up on the right foot. But it appears I tend to like my children’s partners who don’t make the best first impression. Amelia loves with her whole heart and some people find it hard to love her, but you haven’t.”

“I can’t imagine thinking someone would find her hard to love, she’s a straight shooter, and so funny, and the kindest human I’ve ever met, and the best mother to Scout.” Link gushed, getting carried away he loved talking about her girlfriend.

“Welcome to the family.”

part 3

[shewhoridesonrainbows]

Words Upon Your Skin - Ch. 3

AO3

Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4

20 Minutes Earlier - Gotham

 Damian wasn’t technically disobeying his father. Batman had told Robin that they couldn’t follow the suspects during the day because their suits were too noticeable in the daylight, nobody said anything about Damian. So, dressed in the most generic get-lost-in-a-crowd he owned, Damian tailed the two men.

 The GCPD had asked for Batman's help to bust up a human trafficking ring that had brought in hundreds of down-on-their-luck girls from other countries. According to the files Gordon gave the team, the men ten paces ahead of Damian were part of the group behind everything. All Damian had to do was follow them long enough to find out any useful information but so far the only thing these two had done was eat at a shitty diner then walk four blocks down the street.

 Looks like this is going to talk a while. The thought had barely crossed his mind when Damian saw the men duck into an alley. Shit. He picked up his pace, he couldn’t lose them now. He slowed just as he reached the corner and stopped to carefully peek around, As soon as he spotted the suspects standing halfway down the alley, having a conversation with a new person, he knew he’d most likely hit the info jackpot. A quick glance around and Damian found the perfect hiding spot. Crouched as low as he could get, Damian dashed to the side of an overflowing dumpster, One of the men turned just as Damian was out of sight. If he was a spiritual person he would’ve thanked whatever God of Luck that was smiling down on him in that moment. He breathed silently and waited for the conversation to continue.

 “So, like I was saying,” one of the men Damian was originally tailing spoke, “the boss wants everyone there by 11 tonight.”

“Damn, I really hate the docks,” another commented, “the salt in the air makes everything feel sticky.”

Damian heard a smack echo against the brick walls.

“Suck it up and stop being a lil’ bitch,” and there was the third. “We’re gonna make bank off of this shipment, I heard there’s a couple French ones this time around.” the first let out a low whistle.

“Where’s the cargo being unloaded this time?” the second asked.

“Jeff lined some pockets to keep the dogs from sniffing around Pier 5.”

“Good going Jeff!”

Yeah, good going Jeff, Damian thought. Too bad I just have to bring Titus. It was time to get out of there, Damian had all the information they needed for a Batfam raid. He had just started backing up when a fourth voice sounded from behind.

“Looky here boys!” A large hand lifted Damian off the ground by his hood. With lightning fast calculations, Damian determined it safer to act as non threatening as possible. “Y’all had yourselves an eavesdropper!”

 Time to lay on the act.

 “L-look I barely heard anything,” he stuttered. “I was just passing through and didn’t want you guys to see me.” 

One of the original two stepped forwards, “C’mon, man,” the one that doesn’t like ocean air, Damian’s mind supplied, softer than the others, “let the kid go. Some Gotham street kid ain’t gonna hurt us none.” The behemoth holding him grunted and started to lower Damian to the ground but as soon as his shoes touched down the voice behind him sounded again.

 “Don’t ya think he looks kinda familiar?” All four men examined Damian’s face a little closer. One of them took out a phone, typed something quickly, then turned it around for everyone to see. And sure enough, there was Damian’s own face staring back at him from the screen. Shit. I’m never going to hear the end of this from those idiots at home. 

 The one with the phone chuckled, “We just bagged ourselves a Wayne!”

Damian had to think of a plan to get away without letting these criminals know that he was any kind of actual threat, so kicking their asses and running wouldn’t work, especially since they knew who he was. His brain was going rapid fire through possibilities as the men around him discussed what they wanted to do, getting increasingly agitated.

 “All I’m saying is that Brucie will pay a pretty penny to get one of his brats back.”

 “And I’m telling you that we don’t want to get that kind of attention.”

“We can’t just let him go though, who knows what he heard!”

“Guys, guys,” the one still holding Damian spoke in a smooth, calm voice, “it’s simple.” Damian felt the man shift a little. He’d barely gotten a look at the syringe in the man’s hand before there was a sharp pinch in his neck. It felt like ice was coursing its way through his veins. The shock of it kicked his instincts into high gear and Damian twisted out of the grip on his hoodie. Whatever was in the syringe was fast acting though because his knees had collapsed beneath him as soon as his weight wasn’t supported by the man.

Damian finally got a good look at the guy that was holding him when the man knelt down and grinned into the teen’s face and started in on the stereotypical villain monologue.

“See, Lil’ Wayne,” he held up the now empty tube in his hand, “this stuff here is what we use on the girls to knock ‘em out. Super quick and causes memory loss.” 

 Damian could already feel himself losing consciousness. Fuck. He had to force focus back on the new bane of his existence.

 “Side effects include headaches and heat flashes. And you won’t remember the last 30 minutes.” He stood and took a step backwards. “Nice meeting you. Wish we could’ve chatted longer.”

The men laughed and started walking away, Damian glaring at their backs until his vision started to darken.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he lost the ability to stay sitting up. This was going to be for nothing. I have to find a way to remember. Then an idea struck. He used the last of his strength to get the pen out of his hoodie’s pocket and shove a sleeve away from his wrist, exposing just enough skin for a short message. He was only able to jot down the basics; When, where, and that they needed a canine sense of smell. 

 With the last ‘S’ written Damian succumbed to the drug.

 ***

It was the ringing from his phone that finally brought Damian back into the waking world. He groaned at sat up, rubbing his aching temples. What the hell happened?

 The phone in his pocket went off again, the sound making his headache even worse. He answered without even looking at the caller ID.

“Yes?”

 “Where the hell are you and why haven’t you answered us before now?” his father’s voice came from the speaker. He examined his surroundings. Dirty dumpster in the middle of some alley. 

“I’m not completely sure,” he admitted, “it appears I was drugged.”

 “You were-” his father started. Damian could tell his father was trying to calm himself down so he waited patiently. “Just turn on your locator and one of your brothers will pick you up.”

“I hope it’s Grayson,” Damian said as he pushed the special button on his phone “I don’t want to hear Todd’s comments until this migraine is gone.” He stood and started walking towards the street.

“Did you at least find anything useful?” his father sighed. With the phone still pressed against his ear Damian checked himself over for any kind of notepad or scrap of paper. He was about to tell Bruce that it had been for nothing when he noticed the edge of ink on his wrist. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder then tugged his jacket sleeve to expose the sloppily written message.

“Yes, father,” Damian said with a smirk. “We’ll be needed at Pier 5, 11 o’clock tonight. We should bring Titus to help find the girls.”

“I’m not happy with you,” Bruce started, “but this might have saved them. I’ll see you back at the cave.” The call ended with a click.

Damian pocketed his phone and waited.

 He glanced back down at his wrist and caught a glimpse of another message further down his arm. A quick tug revealed more writing but this was different. Instead of the ink on the surface of his skin, this seemed to be coming from within...and in French.

 “ ‘I’m happy to finally talk to you’,” he translated out loud, “ “I hope we can talk more after this. I’m not going to ask why you had not written before now but just know that I’ll be here for you if you ever need someone to talk to.’ “

 Holy shit, I have a soulmate.

To say Damian was stunned would’ve been an understatement. He silently cursed his habit of wearing long sleeves. He could have known about his soulmate’s existence ages ago but anything they might have wrote him before went ignored because of the stupid barrier of fabric.

 Wait, why am I upset? I never needed someone. 

 The roar of a motorcycle approaching snapped Damian out of his downward spiral. And just his luck, Jason Todd was the driver. He yanked his sleeve all the way down and stepped out to meet his most annoying brother.

 Todd pulled to a stop right in front of Damian and tossed him a helmet. “Heard you got into some trouble, Demon Spawn,” he laughed as Damian caught the sleek protective gear. “C’mon, B is waiting.”

 Damian grumbled as he slid the helmet over his head, there was too much to do tonight for him to think about his surprise soulmate. Of course the afternoon that he was drugged then discovered that he had a soulmate was the afternoon that Todd got to him first. Although, Todd was the only one of them without a soulmate, so maybe Damian could ask him what he would do if he suddenly found out he had one.

As he climbed on the back of the bike, Damian formulated a plan. Todd revved the engine then abruptly took off towards home. 

Damian would never admit to having to “work up the courage” in any way, he just mentally prepared himself to ask Todd this question: “What would you do if you suddenly found out you had a soulmate?” The comms in the helmets made his voice crystal clear so there was no way of taking it back and accusing Todd of mishearing him. This was it. 

Years of experience on the backs of bikes kept Todd from swerving in surprise, but the wheel did stutter for a second. 

“Are you asking for curiosity’s sake or is there a reason behind this?”

“You are not to tell the others,” Damian hissed. “Not until I finish planning what to do.” Todd nodded his agreement to Damian’s terms. 

“At some point before I fell unconscious, I was able to get some useful information on the human trafficking operation. The suspects must have told me that the drug they’d given me causes memory loss because I wrote the info on my wrist.” Damian paused as they turned a corner. “When I woke up I had more writing on my arm. Not in my handwriting and nothing like I would ever write myself.”

“How’ve you gone this long without knowing you had a soulmate?” Damian sneered at the question.

“You were with the League,” Todd’s shoulders tensed, “you know as well as I do how they view soulmates.”

“Yeah,” Todd grunted, “useless except as pawns to use against them.” Damian nodded.

“By the time most people get to the League, they’ve already proven not to have a soulmate. I’m the only person to have been born into the League that didn’t reach the part of my training where I would’ve hunted down my soulmate.”

They were both silent for a second, then Todd asked, “What would you have done when you found them?”

 Damian was silent a moment longer.

 “I would’ve killed them.”

NEXT

[zazu75]

Closer

Eko and Ray belong to @thethird-eye

The night sucked. The whole week sucked, that whole day sucked, but this night sucked the most.

Ray sat in the hotel bar and stared daggers at his nonalcoholic drink. He didn’t know why he let his coworkers drag him in here, especially since they all left for the casino soon after. He didn’t want to go there, he wanted to stay in his room and zone out on his phone. But he was here and got left behind and if he hadn’t paid for his overpriced drink, he would have left already. 

At least the place didn’t smell like alcohol. 

The doors of the hotel’s event room suddenly opened. Said room was across from the bar, so Ray had a front row seat to watch the people leaving. They were all dressed in fancy suits and evening gowns and Ray suspected that it was a wedding party. Then the bride and groom came out and confirmed it. 

The wedding party crowded into the bar, and suddenly Ray couldn’t care enough about his drink. He shoved it away and quickly made his escape. He headed to the hotel elevators to get back up to his room, but the bride was there with some of her bridal party. So he quickly swiveled around and headed to the doors. 

There were very little people outside, but it was still a walkway, so Ray walked down the sidewalk until he was away from the main traffic area. He then stopped and leaned against the building, sighing tiredly. He looked at his phone’s clock then and stared at the sky. Just had to wait for a few minutes then head back to his room. Then tomorrow would be the last day of this business trip and he can go back home… To his empty routine working nine to five…

“Rayhat?”

The name made him jump. The voice was familiar. The name was like home. No one called him that. No one called him that except--

“‘Ko?” The name was out of his name before he even turned to look for the other man. It was a reflex, a reaction. Home. 

He turned his head and saw Eko on the sidewalk coming from the hotel. He was carrying things, big and small cases with handles. He wore a backpack. He looked older. His hair was longer. It was a different color. His piercings were still the same. 

They stared at each other, frozen. Then a passerby bumped into Eko and almost knocked him off balance. Eko swore and tried to rebalance himself and his heavy cases. Ray acted instinctually and moved in to help. He grabbed Eko’s shoulders and steadied him, until he and his cases stopped swaying. Then...just stayed there. 

The two of them stared at each other. Ray had so much he wanted to say, but none of the words came to him. He couldn’t think of the words to tell Eko how much he missed him, how he thought about him a ton. He couldn't find the words to ask how Eko had been, how the world was treating him. All he could think of were how pretty Eko’s eyes were. He’d forgotten what they looked like up close. All he could think of were the times they had cuddled and watched movies...studied together...shared their food…

“Help me with my stuff?” Eko asked, breaking the awkward silence between them. 

“Y-yea, sure man.” Ray let go of Eko and awkwardly took the big case from Eko. His friend gave him a big grin and motioned for him to follow. Ray fell in step behind Eko and followed him to...a car. 

“Huh. I never imagined you with a car,” Ray spoke without thinking. 

“It’s a company car,” Eko laughed, “can’t carry these on my bike.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Ray watched Eko unlock the car and the trunk. He helped him load the cases then slammed the trunk shut. No sooner than he did that did Eko grab him and pull him into a tight hug.

“HOLY SHIT, DUDE!!” Eko exclaimed, way too excited, and pulled back with a huge grin on his face. “I never thought I’d ever see you around here!!!”

Ray felt a grin split his own face. All of the awkwardness melted away and he gripped Eko’s shoulders again. 

“I can’t believe it’s you!!!” 

The two of them hugged again, tighter this time, with big smiles on their faces. Eko let loose a few more happy swears before they pulled away. 

“Dude what are you even doing here?!” He asked. 

“Business trip,” Ray replied. 

“In that hotel?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, that’s fancy!” 

“I can show you my room if you want.”

“Nah, I’m starving. Let’s go get dinner!”

“The hotel has a good diner—“

“And be stuck with that wedding party? No way.” Eko opened the driver’s door and sat inside. “Now get in! You’re buying dinner~”

“Fine, but I call shotgun,” Ray laughed.

Once they were both seated and buckled in, Eko pulled out of the parking lot and drove off. He didn’t go far and stopped at a McDonald’s to order a drive through. Ray laughed at the whole thing while they ordered, because some things really never changed, and readily held their food in his lap when they drove off. 

“Where are we going?” He asked after Eko drove away from McDonald’s. His friend gave him an excited grin and didn’t say anything. It occurred to Ray then, that if this was anyone else, he’d be scared of his life right now. But this was Eko. Eko was never scary to him. Eko was home. 

Eko drove out of the city and up a dirt path. Ray could hear the rocks on the road hitting the bottom of the car. He was mildly concerned about it, but Eko didn’t seem to care. So he stayed quiet and watched the scenery—or as much of it as he could see, anyways. There were no streetlights around, and the light of the crescent moon was weak. 

“Okay! We’re here. Come on!” 

Eko parked the car in the middle of the road and turned it off. He jumped out of his seat, buzzing with excitement, and took the food from Ray. Ray stepped out of the car and shut the door, then looked around. 

“Whoa…” 

The area around them was dark, with only the car’s lights and the crescent moon lighting it up. But in front of them—in front of them was the whole city. They were up on a cliff and the city sprawled in front them. Ray gaped at the scenery then turned to Eko. 

“Dude, this is awesome!”

“I know! I’ve been wishing I could bring you up here since forever!”

“Why the secrecy, though? You know this isn’t my normal scene.”

“Psh, I knew you’d love it and didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.” Eko put the food on top of the car’s hood then pulled himself up. “Now come up here so we can eat!”

Ray managed to keep his blush down and climbed the hood of the car to sit by Eko. They talked while they ate, eagerly catching up (“The hell happened to your hair?” “I want to try out new colors”) and cracking jokes. Ray felt so good to be completely himself around someone. He felt so good to be around Eko again, even if just for a little while. 

Ray pulled out his cigarette pack when they finished eating. He took a cigarette out then wordlessly offered the pack to Eko.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke anymore.”

“What?!”

“My boss said he’d give me a bonus if I quit.”

“So you quit?!”

“It was a pretty big bonus.”

“What the hell. When is he even gonna pay you?”

“Every six months. I’m coming up on my third one.”

“Holy shit. Why, even?”

“He hates the smell of smoke.”

“Damn. Need me a boss like that.”

“I can put a recommendation for you. Not sure what positions he has for IT guys though.”

“Damn--wait, what do you do there?”

“I’m a DJ!” Eko grinned wide. “It’s a huge ass club and I get to take on freelance jobs!”

“And a company car?!”

“I get awesome benefits.”

“There has to be a downside.”

“The boss is uh...quirky,” Eko looked like he was choosing his words very carefully, “and the pay isn’t as good as my old IT job. But honestly, I love it. Way better than my old job.”

“Huh…” Ray looked back out to the city and stayed quiet while he finished his smoke. A part of him was in awe that Eko got to do what he loved so fast. Another part of him was extremely envious of that, however. But he stayed quiet and let his thoughts go. 

He didn’t look back to Eko until after his cigarette was done. His best friend was staring at the city ahead of them with a content smile on his face. The light reflected off his eyes and his odd colored hair, and Ray couldn’t help but scoot a little closer. 

“I missed this,” Eko said when they were shoulder to shoulder. His friend turned his soft smile to him and Ray forgot how to breathe.

“I missed you,” he replied shyly. His eyes kept flicking between Eko’s eyes and mouth while his mind was thrust to the past. He thought about watching movies with Eko, the two of them curled up together and eating junk food. He thought about the two of them going out together to eat, thought about them taking food to the dormitory rooftop to eat in peace. Thought about them leaning against each other while they smoked, while they talked, while they played on their phones…

...Eko’s eyes were always pretty up close…

Ray snapped back to reality when he felt Eko’s breath against his face. They were too close--their faces were too close--when did Eko lean in--when did he lean in--he needed to pull back immediately--

--Eko’s lips were salty. From the fries. That was the first thing Ray noticed. Then he noticed that Eko was kissing him. Eko was kissing him. He had wanted to pull away but Eko was kissing him now--

--He kissed back. His breath was stuck in his throat and his face was hot and he kissed back. This was something he had wanted to do since they were still students. This was something he dreamed about when he was younger, something he still wished for guiltily on bad nights. And it was happening. Eko was kissing him and he was kissing back.

They broke apart with a hot breath. Ray opened his eyes to find Eko’s eyes still closed. His friend’s cheeks weren’t as red as he knew his own were. He pulled away and licked his lips. They tasted salty…

Eko used a hand to cup his cheek then leaned in again. Ray didn’t hesitate to lean back in. They kissed again, a little longer with a little more confidence, before they broke apart again.

“I thought you weren’t into guys,” Ray said after a few moments. His lips tingled. 

“Yeah, that’s another thing that’s changed. I kinda...don’t care so much anymore.” Eko looked back out to the city, a serene smile on his face. 

“About?”

“About the gender of who I wanna kiss.” Eko looked back at Ray with a shy smile. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Ray’s cheeks turned redder. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time too.”

Eko beamed at him and nudged his shoulder with his own. Ray blushed and looked away. They both sat in silence for a while before Ray spoke up again.

“I think you just managed to convince me to just move here.”

“What? No man, don’t move here because of me.” “...You know I’d follow you into hell, ‘Ko. Besides, I don’t really want this to be a one night stand.”

“Ohhhh~” Eko looked at Ray with a cheshire cat smile. Ray looked away and blushed. “You’re gonna need a job.”

“I’ll find one.”

“What time does your plane leave tomorrow?”

“Early evening, why?”

Eko sat up and pulled out his phone. He texted someone, who replied, and the two of them carried on a conversation for a few minutes.

“Boss says if you bring by your resume tomorrow morning, he’ll look it over and interview you,” Eko said when he put the phone away.

“Eko!!” Ray looked at his best friend, shocked. “Dude! I need to settle things on the other side before I can come here!”

“You might as well have a job waiting for you when you come back,” Eko smiled, “besides, working at the same place as me means you get to hear all my sweet tunes.”

“...Can’t argue with that.” Ray gave him a tentative smile and extended his hand so his fingers touched Eko’s. Eko responded by holding Ray’s hand properly and looked out to the city. Ray followed suit, heart beating happily in his chest, and enjoyed the silence.

“It’s beautiful out tonight,” Eko said after a while, eyes still on the city. 

Ray leaned his head against Eko’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “It is.”

[steviemae]

oops // sp

requested by anonymous: Hi can you do a sweet pea cheats on reader with Josie and she’s all angsty and sad and her bff fangs and her end up having sex to get low key get SP upset. ;) please and thank you ❤️ ( she’s a serpent bred)

You stood in the doorway of your boyfriend’s bedroom, thinking you were going to surprise him with breakfast before school, but instead he surprised you. With Josie McCoy in his bed.

“Oh my god.” you finally let out after what felt like years of silence.

“y/n? Listen, okay. I can explain.” Sweet Pea said jumping up off the bed and walking towards you.

“Explain what? Why you were just in bed with Josie? I think it’s pretty obvious what was happening, Pea. She’s not wearing any clothes.” you motioned towards Josie who was scrambling to pick up her clothes and put them back on, “Don’t bother, i’m leaving.” you said tossing the bag of food onto the coffee table as you passed. You stormed out of his trailer, pretty much running to your truck. Sweet Pea stood on his porch, watching as you skidded down the gravel road in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between you and that trailer as fast as possible. As you drove you pulled out your phone immediately calling Fangs, your best friend, who answered after the third ring.

“We’re skipping school today. I’m outside.” you said into the phone after he said hello. He walked out not a moment later, climbing into your car and looking at you.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I walked into Sweet Pea’s trailer with breakfast and i found him in bed with Josie fucking McCoy.” your voice broke halfway through telling him what happened and the tears began to fall.

“y/n, i’m so sorry. Come here.” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him on the bench seat of your truck. He let you cry into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“No, you know what. I’m done crying. He didn’t give a shit about my feelings when he slept with her last night so i’m just gonna act like this doesn’t bother me because he doesn’t deserve to see me cry over him.” you said angrily wiping the tears from your eyes.

“You want to go get some Pop’s then?” Fangs asked. You nodded, sliding back over in front of the steering wheel and pulling away from his trailer.

--

“Did you know?” you asked as you pushed the pancakes you ordered around on your plate.

“Know what?” Fangs asked.

“About Josie and Sweet Pea?”

“Oh, no i didn’t actually. You telling me when you picked me up was the first i’ve ever heard about it.” he answered shoving more food into his mouth.

“This sucks!” you exclaimed dropping your fork onto the table. Your eyes welled up with tears again and Fangs gave you a knowing look. He knew you were talking out of your ass earlier when you said you weren’t going to cry. Shit like this hurts, even the toughest of people and he knew you better than anyone. You were going to hurt for a while, but you were stubborn so you weren’t going to let Sweet Pea see you hurting.

Fangs threw some bills on the table, standing up and motioning for you to come alone. You walked out to your truck, Fangs opening the passenger door for you to get in and closing it back once you were in. He climbed into the driver seat, starting your truck up and heading back towards Southside.

“Where are we going?” you asked through sniffles.

“Sweet Pea is at school so we’re going to get your stuff from his trailer so you don’t have to face him to get it. Also it’ll make him really upset to see all of your stuff is gone when he gets home.”

You climbed out of the truck, heading straight for the door. You double checked that his bike was actually gone and not hiding on the side of his trailer before entering. You started grabbing your clothes out of his closet and dresser, throwing them in one of your bags, while Fangs went into the bathroom to grab all of your toiletries. Within minutes all of your stuff was packed into bags and being throw into the bed of your truck.

The rest of the day, you and Fangs hung out in your apartment. He helped you put your stuff away and then the two of you sat on the couch, you crying into his chest, while he tried his best to calm you down.

It was time for the Serpent meeting that FP called earlier this week, so you got up and tried your best to make it look like you hadn’t been spending the last few hours crying because your boyfriend cheated on you. You slipped your jacket over your shoulders and followed Fangs outside to your truck.

At the Wyrm you stayed on the farthest side of the bar, away from anywhere you knew Sweet Pea would hang out. You almost didn’t come to the meeting not really wanting to see Sweet Pea at all after this morning, but you weren’t going to miss a Serpent meeting. And you can only thank god that Fangs was by your side.

--

After the meeting you and Fangs tried to rush to your car to avoid Sweet Pea, but when you walked outside, Sweet Pea was leaning against the front of it. You rolled your eyes, walking straight to the driver side and opening the door. Sweet Pea quickly made his way over, shutting it before you could get inside and standing in between you and the truck.

“Move.” you said.

“Not until you talk to me.” he stated crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have nothing to say to you other than we’re done. Now move.” you spat.

“It was a one time thing, y/n. Please. I’ll never talk to her again if it means you and i stay together.” he pleaded.

“Should’ve thought about that before you slept with her in the first place. Now get the fuck out of my way.” you growled staring him dead in the eyes.

“So that’s it?” he asked.

“Yes that’s it. What else did you want me to say? How else did you think i’d react? You slept with someone else, Sweet Pea. You can’t honestly stand here and tell me you thought it would be okay that i found you in bed with Josie this morning.” you scoffed.

“No but i at least thought you’d hear me out. Or y’know, not break into my trailer and get all of your stuff out while i was at school.”

“I didn’t break in, dumbass. I have a key, which you can have back by the way. I won’t be needing it.” you said handing him the key after you took it off your key ring, “now get the fuck out of my way so i can leave. This conversation is over.”

Sweet Pea moved without another word, allowing you to climb in your truck where Fangs waited in the passenger seat. You sped off without looking back at him in the mirrors.

Back at your trailer, you and Fangs lay in your bed staring at the ceiling in silence. You started crying the second you entered your trailer, but now you just laid there with dried tears on your face while Fangs laid next to you trying to think of ways to get back at Pea.

“You know, you could always sleep with someone you know he would be very upset about to get back at him.”

“Sweet Pea hates everyone. Anyone i slept with would piss him off.”

“Yeah, but sleep with someone he thought he could trust. That’ll really hurt him.” Fangs suggested.

“Who? You? Because the only two people he genuinely cares about are you and Toni and i’m not gay.” you stated. Fangs shrugged his shoulders putting his hands behind his head. You thought it over for a second before saying fuck it and climbing on top of Fangs, letting your lips find his.

“You know this will fuck up your friendship with him, right? You sure you want that?” you asked.

“I became friends with him because you introduced us. I think i’m fine with this.” he said with a chuckle.

--

Fangs dropped down on the bed next to you, both of you out of breath and sweaty. You threw the blankets over the both of you to shield your bodies from the cold air of your room as your turned on your side to face Fangs.

The next morning you were sleeping peacefully until a loud voice woke you up.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Sweet Pea yelled from the doorway of your room. You sat up, holding the blanket to your chest as you wiped the sleep from your eyes. You looked at Sweet Pea who looked hurt and angry and then down at a sleeping Fangs who laid next to you. You looked back up at Sweet Pea, shrugging your shoulders before speaking.

“Oops.”

[stusbunker]

Known: Case of the Weak, Part B

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Demon!Reader, Sam, Female Vessel OC, a nameless trucker and some guy named Alan.

Summary: A discovery and an exit strategy.

Warnings: Talk of vomit, possession, angst, blood, consequences.

Series Masterlist

March 25, 2014

The Bunker

Dean felt nauseous.

He had stepped into the spare bedroom CC stayed in to change the sheets and the stink of sulfur hit him like a right hook. It was everywhere, the bed, the desk chair, little dusting of yellow flakes that stopped him in his tracks. He closed his eyes as the rage poured through the Mark and into his veins. A tiny voice inside his mind replied, ‘And you call yourself a hunter.’ He clenched his fist and released his jaw, taking in one more deep breath of betrayal.

“Sam!”

“Yeah?”

“Just come here a sec!” Dean barked, the energy drained from him as the terrifying possibilities came crashing into focus.

“What is it—shit, it reeks in here,” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t test her?”

“I was a little preoccupied!” Dean admonished, “what? You didn’t either!”

“Is she?”

“No, she’s alive or at least she was last I saw her. How did I miss this?!” Dean’s eyes finally locked onto Sam’s. Sam swallowed as he realized how deep this cut into Dean’s carefully crafted armor. Dean dropped onto the perfectly made bed, elbows resting on his knees as he tried to gather himself.

“You’re telling me,” Sam huffed, then their old friend suspicion surfaced. “Crowley.”

Dean pulled his bottom lip against his teeth, shaking his head as it didn’t add up.

“He was pretty keen on meeting CC, Dean.” Sam mentally walked through the day at Magnus’s and the last time they saw the King of Hell.

“Oh god, Sam. What if it was one of the ones that defiled my Baby?” Dean stood and stormed down the hall toward the bathroom. “I am going to be sick, I mean, I--- and she--- and--”

“Breathe!” Sam rolled his eyes as his brother started to dry heave. Dean inhaled the cool, fresh air of the shower room, face leaning over the sink as Sam waited beside him. Dean tried to block the images of CC’s face in his hands, blood on his thighs, mouth on him. He sloshed the cold water on his face and neck, fingers dragging a little rougher than necessary, subconsciously hurting himself to bury the repulsion, the guilt, the fear.

“How did it even get in here, Sam? This place is warded to the gills.” Dean kept his eyes closed, unwilling to meet his reflection in the mirror. “She had a branding, on her thigh. But it wasn’t ancient, it just said, ‘Hi.’ I mean ‘hi’, really?!” Dean pushed off the sink, hand tugging the hair off his forehead.

“Might be some kind of blood spell? I’ll look in to what could have gotten past the Men of Letters’ fail-safes.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Dean sighed. “You do that, I’m gonna burn my sheets and take a shower. In lye.”

Three hours later and Sam hadn’t narrowed down what a demon would have to do in order to gain access to the Bunker. Dean had stopped himself from calling Crowley five or six times, unwilling to give the demon the satisfaction of pulling one over on him. The whole thing felt like a sick twisted game of humiliation and not even the good kind. As most days when he was lost in thought, Dean’s left hand rubbed over the Mark, like bellows doting over embers.

“Look, just call her, maybe we can meet up, exorcise it?”

“Something tells me she is going to see through whatever we cook up, Sam,” Dean muttered.

“This isn’t Chloe, Dean. This is a demon who has our friend!” Sam was losing his patience. “I mean, no matter who she’s working for, we have to go after her.”

Dean waited, letting Sam’s exasperation contort his face into five different things before he looked his big brother in the unamused eye. “You done?”

“No, but if you have something to add, why don’t you share with the class?”

“You don’t think that I know what this means, for CC? The girl that I--, the hunter that has been pulling my head out of my ass for the better part of a year to be taken like this? To have that thing inside her? Sam? Really?!” Dean had his lecture face on staring admonished at Sam’s bitch face and his lips pursed.

“Well, don’t you think it’s time we do something about it?” Sam shifted in his chair.

“Oh, we’re going to do something about it, but I’m not leaving it to chance or a bad tip from Crowley. We do what we do, we hunt the thing.” The brothers shared a look, an entire conversation that resulted in a sucking of teeth and a ruthless smirk.

*^*

Her bike had run out of gas, how something that was extremely fuel efficient and, also the stuff of dreams ran out of gas, made little sense to Chloe. But there she was, on the side of the road in the afternoon heat, stranded. Her conversation with her granddad’s spirit had replayed itself in her thoughts for days. It was like elevator music to her now, familiar yet warbled, and easily dismissed.

The eighteen-wheeler was the first sign of civilization she had seen since leaving the memories in the woods. If this was her impending choice, she was ready to answer and take the next step back towards control. It was not. Though the trucker was friendly and had the air conditioning on full blast.

“Where to, princess?”

“Don’t know, we’ll see when we get there.”

The driver gave a thoughtful frown and eased off the brakes.

*^*

April 9, 2014

Sayre, OK

Fog clung to the road, sloping into ditches as the passing cars drove by, their proximity rattling the windows around you. You had pulled over to the shoulder hoping for a distraction, but that was hours ago. The body heat had steamed the windshield against the sunrise, scarlet and coral blotches appeared slowly before your unfocused eyes. You listened to the voicemail again, letting the once solacing voice eat away at any semblance of purpose you had left.

He had heard about your last case, wanted to meet half way. There were rumors about Crowley and Dean felt like his show down with Abaddon was an any-day-now situation. Damn, was he a brilliant bullshit artist. You almost believed he wanted to see you. It almost sounded that he had convinced himself he need to see CC again before that next battle. Maybe that’s what it was, maybe it was just Dean’s sentimental side breaking through before he got the First Blade back in his hand.

But it was just a hint too earnest and two puffs too smooth for someone who had done the things to you that he had. Dean knew and he was setting his trap.

You thought of going underground, knowing Crowley still had a few tails on you, despite your regular check ins. There was always defection, switch teams and play against the world’s deadliest hunters, with the last Knight of Hell as your team captain. Or you could tell him the disgusting, grisly truth and let him, or Sam, exorcise you where you stand.

None of those were without merit, but all were without much hope in your survival. The radio crackled over the opening cords of the next song, Kurt Cobain’s voice came next, shattering your pretensions, and finally the tears began to fall.

*^*

Rock Springs, WY

April 12, 2014

The Impala pulled into the parking lot just after rush hour, which wasn’t much to avoid in most respects. Sam had been on the phone on and off the entire drive, keeping tabs on the soul banks that Abaddon had erected all over. Dean was listening, but they both knew he had checked out unless it was about CC or the Queen Bitch herself. He needed the easy routine of tuning the radio and the weight of his foot on the gas. Because when he stopped or thought too much, everything seemed to unfreeze and fall apart at his slightest touch.

The motel had plenty of vacancies, especially for Agents Hawkins and Grohl. There wasn’t a verified case for forty miles, but something about putting on the Fed suit and using an alias made Dean feel in control. It was hard to believe there was a time when he hated the get ups. He replayed his times with CC on and off through the years, usually as one forgotten memory would surface, eventually they all snowballed over the bigger picture. But he could only see now where the holes in time split and the emptiness of his unspoken promises fissured.

“You call her?” Sam’s voice broke through his weapons check.

“Yeah, just rang through to voicemail. We’ll settle in and grab something to eat and I will try again.”

He didn’t turn around to see that look on Sam’s face, he already felt its sting without having to face it.

*^*

It as if she was asleep, her body seemed so much smaller from the outside. Though her boots fell inside the edge of the mattress, you felt the need to bed her knees, curling her on her side as she liked to rest. She was warm and her body heavy. You waited at the small breakfast table, new vessel’s fingers flexing as you acclimated to him. “Come on, CC, wake up.”

She shouldn’t have been tired, you had a solid six hours the night before. But when you left her mouth, you only passively realized that she was nowhere to be found. In fact, you couldn’t recall the last time you felt her fighting you.

Dean.

You hadn’t felt her since Dean. It was a good thing they were coming for you, then. Maybe his voice could break through to her, wherever she had gone. Like some macabre fairy tale, the cursed hunter wakes the mind-lost vessel. You should be gone by then, they didn’t need an audience. You didn’t need to bare witness to that. They would probably blast you full of rock salt and finish you off with their Kurdish knife. Instead you stayed, staring at the man’s generic phone screen until you heard CC’s ringtone from her coat on the rack behind the door.

Dean.

*^*

“I don’t know Sam, this all feel off to you?” Dean swallowed down some coffee as he waited for CC’s voicemail message to pick up again.

“We’re hunting a demon, not really expecting it to make it easy,” Sam shrugged.

“But, wouldn’t it pick up and taunt us?”

“Maybe it ditched her phone, want me to try the GPS?” Sam offered, pulling open his laptop on the cramped diner table.

Dean smiled at the waitress as she brought his slice of pie, though his stomach was full, he wasn’t going to deny himself a slice of Dutch Apple, especially not tonight. Sam huh-ed.

“What?”

“It’s pinging at our motel.” Sam stuck his tongue in his cheek as he spun the screen for Dean to see.

“Fucking demons,” Dean spoke through his bite of pie, inhaling all he could as Sam packed up his computer and left more than enough extra for a tip.

*^*

You could smoke out, there was still enough time. The Impala’s engine cut on the other side of the parking lot. You could almost feel him from where you sat, but this body was a poor substitute, and you were a selfish, masochistic bitch. So, you waited. Chloe’s breath was shallow, but steady. She hadn’t stirred or made even one noise. In a way, this was probably the last time you would ever see her again. Moving day and this was your last walk through of your first place. It was understandable to linger, justifying your inability to walk away from her and Dean.

They had geared up in their room, you could hear muffled voices through the walls, there were just three rooms between you and two were empty. Even whispering, you’d know those voices anywhere. They walked around the building, knowing if they took the shortest distance they would pass in front of the large window at your back. Sometimes you hated hunters’ caution and sometimes you wanted to pat their little heads. You pulled air through his nose and waited.

He called again. Honestly.

“Door’s open,” you said to whichever one was at the door, trying to discreetly pick the lock in nearly full view of the parking lot and surrounding alley. The voice was coarse out of your throat, foreign and distasteful to use for such occasions.

*^*

As the door swung open, Sam’s eyes fell on their host, before locking on to the sight of CC prone on the bed. He dragged his brother to his feet, and they walked straight into the fray. Tucking away his lock pick, Dean rocked forward in a fury, only taking two steps before he was knocked back. In half a breath, Sam and Dean were pinned against the coat rack as the door swung closed. The demon hadn’t even stood up.

“What did you do to her?!” Dean demanded, working to focus and to buy Sam time as a distraction.

“Nothing much worse than you did,” he spoke calmly, but the cadence wasn’t meant for this mouth.

“I’m going to kill you, you sonofabitch!”

“I know you want to, especially now, with all that blood-lust running through you.” The demon stood, the vessel was a white guy in his forties, small compared to them, but that meant nothing now. “The Mark really smarts after you lost the Blade, doesn’t Dean? I know how it makes you feel and how you think. So, I know you want to kill me, in fact, I was banking on it. That’s why I found a new meat suit. Didn’t wanna add anymore guilt on the Winchester laundry list.”

“But, why?” Sam searched for understanding, “I mean, why stick around for us to find you. You could have run back to Abaddon or Crowley or to fucking Botswana by now.”

The demon didn’t answer, but watched Dean watch CC, it almost seemed wistful. Sam was struggling to piece together its motivations all while fighting the force holding him against his will. But Dean had stopped fidgeting beside him, his brother had gone lax. Dean’s eyes unfocused before glaring at their captor.

“You like to watch, huh? Is that it? You get off on people’s feelings, you sick fuck.” Dean inhaled slowly with a piercing stare that further challenged the demon. He tried not to let his rage plummet with the shock as he started to feel an ease of pressure against his body.

“You know I don’t. Besides, I haven’t answered Sam, yet.” The demon approached them, waiting just out of arm’s reach. “I need your help.”

*^*

You had no clue if this would work, but it was the Hail Mary at the end of the game of your own devising. You kept going back to him and now that you had been made, you were running out of options. Nothing you did made sense, but if you were going to get through to Dean, you had to tell the truth. Or at least part of it.

“I don’t know where CC is.”

“You mean other than on the bed,” Dean was not amused with the child-like turn.

You rolled your eyes and put your hands on your hips, which was far less empowering in this form than in hers. “Obviously. She hasn’t been talking back for a while and when I exited stage left, it’s been quiet.”

“Has she had any brain damage or major trauma?” Sam asked.

You shook your head and then shrugged, possession was a bit traumatic, even when you weren’t out to derail her sanity. “The last time I remember even a glimpse of her was with Dean, so I was hoping…”

“No.”

“What, why?”

“It wants me to wake Sleeping Beauty,” Dean snapped. “I am not putting the moves on a comatose girl, not after what, just no.”

“It has a name,” you snipped, dropping your hold on Dean, which oddly wasn’t as secure as it was originally. “Just try and talk to her? Maybe she can resurface.”

“And if I don’t?” Dean watched you like a true enemy. While the power you possessed was nothing compared to what he unknowingly held over you, it was nice to been seen for what you were finally. Again, you remained silent, choosing to squeeze Sam’s throat enough for him to audibly choke. “Noted.”

He approached the bed with caution, eyeing the weapons you had forced from their grasp and waist bands with their confinement. You slid them across the floor beneath the table, nudging Dean onward. Out of annoyance more than courtesy, you removed the strangle hold from Sam’s throat. He sputtered and coughed as Dean checked CC’s pulse.

“Dean?”

“She’s good.” Dean’s large hand cradled her face as he began to whisper, “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to get you out of here. We’re gonna get you back on your feet and we can kick the bastard’s ass together, okay? Cease, you hearing me in there, huh?”

Your eyes flitted back to Sam, he looked at you with something too close to pity in his eyes. You let your eyes blacken and stuck your tongue out at him. Dean started talking again, leaving a little peck on Chloe’s forehead as he waxed on about their first hunt. Things you had learned but hadn’t realized what their past meant for him. It paled in comparison to yours, but Dean wasn’t here for you. And, finally you saw that you weren’t only there for yourself either.

“What about a dream walk?” Sam suggested, “we could probably scrounge up the ingredients between us.”

“Dean? Think you could handle it?” Everything rested on the head of a pin, Chloe’s life, your afterlife, Sam’s patience and Dean’s faith.

“I’m not leaving you alone with Sam,” Dean didn’t bother looking at you, he was too worried about CC.

“It’s not like we can trust her with our bodies, Dean.” Sam cocked his head as Dean’s eyes looked skyward.

“Demons don’t sleep, ergo it’s not coming with.”

You swallowed, remembering everything you knew about the ritual. “Dean, look, if I trust Sam to keep from killing OR exorcising me while I’m in. Will you trust me to go with you?”

“Why are you even still here?” Dean muttered, offended by your very existence.

“Because I don’t want Chloe dead, if I did, I would have done it a long time ago.”

“That right?” Dean stood now, looking down his nose at your vessel.

“Look, I asked for your help, alright?” You threw in your final chip and let Sam fall back to his feet. “Either help me find Chloe or kill me and do it on your own, but this guy has kids and I haven’t done a thing to him or her since you’ve been here. You can trust me.”

Dean let out a mirthless laugh. “Trust you? Sorry, Alan,” he quipped as he flicked the embroidered name tag on your chest. “I don’t even know you.”

*^*

He was impossibly close now and though he had been hiding it, the rage was surging just beneath the surface.  Dean’s every instinct told him to kill this thing, but the way it moved and spoke was giving him a headache. It was like a bad body swap, because he was very clearly talking to CC while talking about CC. Just how long had she been possessed for it to have this sort of mimicry?

“That stings a little, but I’m not going to hold a shitty memory against you, Dean. Ball’s in your court, boys.” The demon sat down, leaning back to grab both of their guns and knife.

Tags: @mogaruke @dontshootmespence @mrswhozeewhatsis@smi727@sassykayla255@supernaturalboi@dumbthotticus@eve05glee@veroinnumera@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester@fanfictionrecommendations-com@soullesscollection-world

Next Chapter: Case of the Weak Part C

[pcndemoniums]

CONSTANTINE MCKENNA - FUCK YOU VERY MUCH VERSE

FULL NAME: travis constantine mckenna. he fucking hates travis. dont call him that or youll get punched in the face

NICKNAME/S: con, mcfucker, constant ( pain in the ass )

D. O. B.: june 20th

AGE: 31 years

GENDER: cis male

ORIENTATION: bisexual

NATIONALITY: american

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: he/him

SPECIES:  human

BIRTH PLACE: newark, new jersey. 

CURRENT LIVING SITUATION: las vegas, nv

OCCUPATION: bartender

LANGUAGES: english ( barely )

ACCENT: new jersean??? he says bro a lot

OTHER TALENTS: can suck dick like nobody’s business

APPEARANCE:

HEIGHT: 5′9

BUILD: slim but with some muscle definition

SKIN TONE: fair

HAIR COLOR: light brown

EYE COLOR: green

GLASSES OR CONTACTS:  nope

BIRTHMARKS/SCARS: a few scars and scrapes, nothing too serious. he also has birthmark on his right thigh that looks like heart if you squint. 

TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: oh lord. ok, same rose on his shoulder. then something similar to this on his calfs. this fuck you tat. he has his left nipple pierced. oh, and he also has an ampallang. if you dont know what that is dont google it. just - ouch

LEFT HANDED/RIGHT HANDED: right handed

MOST PROMINENT FEATURE: strong jaw, expressive brow, foul mouth

CLOTHING STYLE: jeans, t-shirts, black boots or sneakers. super casual

FACE CLAIM: paul wesley

RELATIONSHIPS:

FAMILY:  travis mackenna sr ( father ), harriet mckenna ( mother ), evelyn mckenna ( sister )

PETS: an orange tabby cat named frito

BEST FRIENDS: jax falcone. he’s the life of a party so he probably has a few more good buds. 

FOES: people who can’t stand him? he can get obnoxious. also philippe ballard. what a douche.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single and ready to bump uglies

PERSONALITY:

WHAT WOULD BE THEIR CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: the jester

STRONGEST CHARACTER TRAIT/S: fun, adventurous, honest, charismatic, confident, independent

WEAKEST CHARACTER TRAIT/S: unreliable, obnoxious, irresponsible, obscene, blunt, temperamental

PHOBIAS/FEAR/S: commitment of any kind, spiders, clowns, that chick from the ring

BIGGEST SECRET/S:  hes actually a nice guy deep down - NAH!

BAD HABITS: swearing, drinking, fucking, smoking, drugs, clicking his tongue, chewing gum 

MENTAL DISORDER/CONDITIONS:  i mean hes kind of a sex addict lbr

OBSESSIONS: his bike

RELIGION: atheist

ZODIAC SIGN:  gemini

HOGWARTS HOUSE: slytheryn

MORAL ALIGNMENT:  chaotic neutral

OPINION ON DRUG USE: yes please

OPINION ON ALCOHOL USE: fun in a bottle

OPINION ON SWEARING: its a-ok

QUIRKS:

HOBBIES: partying, sex, goes on tinder a lot, drinking, hanging out with friends, watching movies, fixing his bike

OUTDOORS OR INDOOR PERSON: outdoors

FAVORITE TYPE OF MUSIC: hip hop

FAVORITE COLOR: black

FAVORITE FOOD: pizza all the way

FAVORITE ANIMAL: the sloth

FAVORITE BOOK: like he reads?

FAVORITE SCENT: smell of leather, aftershave, those victoria secret scents are nice

INSTAGRAM: mcfucker

WHAT DOES THEIR VOICEMAIL MESSAGE SOUND LIKE: "yo, drop it or fuck it”

PAST /FUTURE:

WHAT WERE THEY LIKE AS A CHILD: very playful and rebellious. could never stand still and was always getting in trouble. his poor parents had trouble keeping up. 

DID THEY GROW UP RICH OR POOR: middle class

DID THEY GROW UP NURTURED OR NEGLECTED: nurtured

WHAT DID THEY WANT TO BE WHEN THEY GREW UP: a nascar driver

SMELL THAT REMINDS THEM OF THEIR CHILDHOOD: scented candles and laundry detergent 

BEST CHILDHOOD MEMORY: family trips to the beach and hanging out with friends there. nothing special, really. his childhood was normal

WORST CHILDHOOD MEMORY: the day he broke his leg and had to wear a cast for months. that sucked ass

ARE THEY/DO THEY WANT TO GET MARRIED: NOPE

WILL THEY EVER SETTLE DOWN SOMEWHERE: he likes vegas so far. we’ll have to see.

[treadmilltreats]

Do I really have to workout today??

I write this blog every day and every day I try to keep it real. I tell it like it is, the good the bad and even the ugly.

I never sugar coat shit as I want you to know that sometimes the road gets tough but you can make it and I can't do that if I am not totally transparent.

So when I talk about working out and being a gym rat for most of my life, you might think, well that's not me. I don't have time or I don't like the gym or she's lucky she feels that way.

Like so many of you, there are so many mornings when the alarm rings, that I don't want to be working out, like this morning! 

Yes, I could have slept an extra hour, I would have loved to throw the alarm across the room except nowadays it's not an alarm clock but your phone which lately costs as much as a used car. I wanted to roll over into my next dream of lasagna.

(Yes, I am on a break from men, so I'm not even dreaming about them!)

But no, I dragged my ass up and got on this treadmill. Feeling it or not, it's what I have to do.

Seeing any kind of change is hard. I remembered when I started to train for a triathlon I ran to the end of my block and thought I was going to die. I remember saying to myself  "Are they kidding? I'm never going to make a triathlon, I can't even make it to the end of the street!"

This is definitely going to suck! Yes, I am human and don't always shoot sunshine out of my ass, sorry to disappoint you.

Then I thought now I will have to train for 3 different events, this is going to be a pain, and I mean literally.

I was thinking what the Hell did I get myself into now? I love to eat! I hate to run, I suck at swimming, the only thing is I like to bike ride but at a competition level? I doubt it but I had to make a choice, my love of eating, my fear or a setting and accomplishing a goal while my life was upside down and getting divorced. I wanted to challenge myself and my readers that you can do anything you set your mind to.

That and I love a challenge, asking myself, can I do it? How far can I go? How much past the pain can I go?  And then there are the naysayers and haters that help too, telling me I was too old (49) or that I was crazy. Hello I was going through a horrible divorce that part was a given..

But all of that gets me saying,

"Oh yea... you don't think so, watch this!" I want to be able to say to them, never bet against me.

I trained for 8 months for that triathlon and I placed 3rd in my age group, first time out. How's that for you naysayers? Ha! If I can do this, you can do this.

You see we are all the same, I love good food, I had always eaten like a truck driver. I remember my mother would tell me to eat before a date because no guy would ever ask me out again after seeing me eat! 

I get lazy and tired and don't feel like doing the right thing but these last 8 weeks with this surgery on my hand taught me that I can spiral into a depression and the only antidepressant for me is to exercise.

So yes, I am just like you, I love to eat, hate to get out of bed some days, I have a bad knee,my back hurts and I am tired, does that sound like you?

Yes, it's because we are all the same, we don't want change, we want the easy way out and we want it now!

Yes, if a genie from Aladdin came and said, you never have to exercise, you can eat anything you wish and you will stay healthy and have a hot body. Hell, ya that would be one of my three wishes, are you kidding?

But until that happens, I have to make a change, I have to put in hard work and do this all on my own.

So today my friends, I am telling you this so the next time you don't feel like going to the gym or working out, when change seems daunting remember you are not alone, we all feel like that even the gym rat!

So push yourself and you will be glad you did, life is too short to do things half way, be all in. And you will amaze yourself with what you can do! 

Now get your ass up and workout! 

"Be the change you want to see"

@treadmilltreats 

Be the change you want to see"

"And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

The Blessing in Disguise.... revealed

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***Now available***

My 1st book The blessing in Disguise 

Selling on my website:

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[zazu75]

Five Years Later

Ray and Eko belong to @thethird-eye

The night sucked. The whole week sucked, that whole day sucked, but this night sucked the most.

Ray sat in the hotel bar and stared daggers at his nonalcoholic drink. He didn’t know why he let his coworkers drag him in here, especially since they all left for the casino soon after. He didn’t want to go there, he wanted to stay in his room and zone out on his phone. But he was here and got left behind and if he hadn’t paid for his overpriced drink, he would have left already. 

At least the place didn’t smell like alcohol. 

The doors of the hotel’s event room suddenly opened. Said room was across from the bar, so Ray had a front row seat to watch the people leaving. They were all dressed in fancy suits and evening gowns and Ray suspected that it was a wedding party. Then the bride and groom came out and confirmed it. 

The wedding party crowded into the bar, and suddenly Ray couldn’t care enough about his drink. He shoved it away and quickly made his escape. He headed to the hotel elevators to get back up to his room, but the bride was there with some of her bridal party. So he quickly swiveled around and headed to the doors. 

There were very little people outside, but it was still a walkway, so Ray walked down the sidewalk until he was away from the main traffic area. He then stopped and leaned against the building, sighing tiredly. He looked at his phone’s clock then and stared at the sky. Just had to wait for a few minutes then head back to his room. Then tomorrow would be the last day of this business trip and he can go back home… To his empty routine working nine to five…

“Rayhat?”

The name made him jump. The voice was familiar. The name was like home. No one called him that. No one called him that except--

“‘Ko?” The name was out of his name before he even turned to look for the other man. It was a reflex, a reaction. Home. 

He turned his head and saw Eko on the sidewalk coming from the hotel. He was carrying things, big and small cases with handles. He wore a backpack. He looked older. His hair was longer. It was a different color. His piercings were still the same. 

They stared at each other, frozen. Then a passerby bumped into Eko and almost knocked him off balance. Eko swore and tried to rebalance himself and his heavy cases. Ray acted instinctually and moved in to help. He grabbed Eko’s shoulders and steadied him, until he and his cases stopped swaying. Then...just stayed there. 

The two of them stared at each other. Ray had so much he wanted to say, but none of the words came to him. He couldn’t think of the words to tell Eko how much he missed him, how he thought about him a ton. He couldn't find the words to ask how Eko had been, how the world was treating him. All he could think of were how pretty Eko’s eyes were. He’d forgotten what they looked like up close. All he could think of were the times they had cuddled and watched movies...studied together...shared their food…

“Help me with my stuff?” Eko asked, breaking the awkward silence between them. 

“Y-yea, sure man.” Ray let go of Eko and awkwardly took the big case from Eko. His friend gave him a big grin and motioned for him to follow. Ray fell in step behind Eko and followed him to...a car. 

“Huh. I never imagined you with a car,” Ray spoke without thinking. 

“It’s a company car,” Eko laughed, “can’t carry these on my bike.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Ray watched Eko unlock the car and the trunk. He helped him load the cases then slammed the trunk shut. No sooner than he did that did Eko grab him and pull him into a tight hug.

“HOLY SHIT, DUDE!!” Eko exclaimed, way too excited, and pulled back with a huge grin on his face. “I never thought I’d ever see you around here!!!”

Ray felt a grin split his own face. All of the awkwardness melted away and he gripped Eko’s shoulders again. 

“I can’t believe it’s you!!!” 

The two of them hugged again, tighter this time, with big smiles on their faces. Eko let loose a few more happy swears before they pulled away. 

“Dude what are you even doing here?!” He asked. 

“Business trip,” Ray replied. 

“In that hotel?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, that’s fancy!” 

“I can show you my room if you want.”

“Nah, I’m starving. Let’s go get dinner!”

“The hotel has a good diner—“

“And be stuck with that wedding party? No way.” Eko opened the driver’s door and sat inside. “Now get in! You’re buying dinner~”

“Fine, but I call shotgun,” Ray laughed.

Once they were both seated and buckled in, Eko pulled out of the parking lot and drove off. He didn’t go far and stopped at a McDonald’s to order a drive through. Ray laughed at the whole thing while they ordered, because some things really never changed, and readily held their food in his lap when they drove off. 

“Where are we going?” He asked after Eko drove away from McDonald’s. His friend gave him an excited grin and didn’t say anything. It occurred to Ray then, that if this was anyone else, he’d be scared of his life right now. But this was Eko. Eko was never scary to him. Eko was home. 

Eko drove out of the city and up a dirt path. Ray could hear the rocks on the road hitting the bottom of the car. He was mildly concerned about it, but Eko didn’t seem to care. So he stayed quiet and watched the scenery—or as much of it as he could see, anyways. There were no streetlights around, and the light of the crescent moon was weak. 

“Okay! We’re here. Come on!” 

Eko parked the car in the middle of the road and turned it off. He jumped out of his seat, buzzing with excitement, and took the food from Ray. Ray stepped out of the car and shut the door, then looked around. 

“Whoa…” 

The area around them was dark, with only the car’s lights and the crescent moon lighting it up. But in front of them—in front of them was the whole city. They were up on a cliff and the city sprawled in front them. Ray gaped at the scenery then turned to Eko. 

“Dude, this is awesome!”

“I know! I’ve been wishing I could bring you up here since forever!”

“Why the secrecy, though? You know this isn’t my normal scene.”

“Psh, I knew you’d love it and didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.” Eko put the food on top of the car’s hood then pulled himself up. “Now come up here so we can eat!”

Ray managed to keep his blush down and climbed the hood of the car to sit by Eko. They talked while they ate, eagerly catching up (“The hell happened to your hair?” “I want to try out new colors”) and cracking jokes. Ray felt so good to be completely himself around someone. He felt so good to be around Eko again, even if just for a little while. 

Ray pulled out his cigarette pack when they finished eating. He took a cigarette out then wordlessly offered the pack to Eko.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke anymore.”

“What?!”

“My boss said he’d give me a bonus if I quit.”

“So you quit?!”

“It was a pretty big bonus.”

“What the hell. When is he even gonna pay you?”

“Every six months. I’m coming up on my third one.”

“Holy shit. Why, even?”

“He hates the smell of smoke.”

“Damn. Need me a boss like that.”

“I can put a recommendation for you. Not sure what positions he has for IT guys though.”

“Damn--wait, what do you do there?”

“I’m a DJ!” Eko grinned wide. “It’s a huge ass club and I get to take on freelance jobs!”

“And a company car?!”

“I get awesome benefits.”

“There has to be a downside.”

“The boss is uh...quirky,” Eko looked like he was choosing his words very carefully, “and the pay isn’t as good as my old IT job. But honestly, I love it. Way better than my old job.”

“Huh…” Ray looked back out to the city and stayed quiet while he finished his smoke. A part of him was in awe that Eko got to do what he loved so fast. Another part of him was extremely envious of that, however. But he stayed quiet and let his thoughts go. 

He didn’t look back to Eko until after his cigarette was done. His best friend was staring at the city ahead of them with a content smile on his face. The light reflected off his eyes and his odd colored hair, and Ray couldn’t help but scoot a little closer. 

“I missed this,” Eko said when they were shoulder to shoulder. His friend turned his soft smile to him and Ray forgot how to breathe.

“I missed you,” he replied shyly. His eyes kept flicking between Eko’s eyes and mouth while his mind was thrust to the past. He thought about watching movies with Eko, the two of them curled up together and eating junk food. He thought about the two of them going out together to eat, thought about them taking food to the dormitory rooftop to eat in peace. Thought about them leaning against each other while they smoked, while they talked, while they played on their phones…

...Eko’s eyes were always pretty up close…

Ray snapped back to reality when he felt Eko’s breath against his face. They were too close--their faces were too close--when did Eko lean in--when did he lean in--he needed to pull back immediately--

--Eko’s lips were salty. From the fries. That was the first thing Ray noticed. Then he noticed that Eko was kissing him. Eko was kissing him. He had wanted to pull away but Eko was kissing him now--

--He kissed back. His breath was stuck in his throat and his face was hot and he kissed back. This was something he had wanted to do since they were still students. This was something he dreamed about when he was younger, something he still wished for guiltily on bad nights. And it was happening. Eko was kissing him and he was kissing back.

They broke apart with a hot breath. Ray opened his eyes to find Eko’s eyes still closed. His friend’s cheeks weren’t as red as he knew his own were. He pulled away and licked his lips. They tasted salty…

Eko used a hand to cup his cheek then leaned in again. Ray didn’t hesitate to lean back in. They kissed again, a little longer with a little more confidence, before they broke apart again.

“I thought you weren’t into guys,” Ray said after a few moments. His lips tingled. 

“Yeah, that’s another thing that’s changed. I kinda...don’t care so much anymore.” Eko looked back out to the city, a serene smile on his face. 

“About?”

“About the gender of who I wanna kiss.” Eko looked back at Ray with a shy smile. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Ray’s cheeks turned redder. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time too.”

Eko beamed at him and nudged his shoulder with his own. Ray blushed and looked away. They both sat in silence for a while before Ray spoke up again.

“I think you just managed to convince me to just move here.”

“What? No man, don’t move here because of me.” “...You know I’d follow you into hell, ‘Ko. Besides, I don’t really want this to be a one night stand.”

“Ohhhh~” Eko looked at Ray with a cheshire cat smile. Ray looked away and blushed. “You’re gonna need a job.”

“I’ll find one.”

“What time does your plane leave tomorrow?”

“Early evening, why?”

Eko sat up and pulled out his phone. He texted someone, who replied, and the two of them carried on a conversation for a few minutes.

“Boss says if you bring by your resume tomorrow morning, he’ll look it over and interview you,” Eko said when he put the phone away.

“Eko!!” Ray looked at his best friend, shocked. “Dude! I need to settle things on the other side before I can come here!”

“You might as well have a job waiting for you when you come back,” Eko smiled, “besides, working at the same place as me means you get to hear all my sweet tunes.”

“...Can’t argue with that.” Ray gave him a tentative smile and extended his hand so his fingers touched Eko’s. Eko responded by holding Ray’s hand properly and looked out to the city. Ray followed suit, heart beating happily in his chest, and enjoyed the silence.

“It’s beautiful out tonight,” Eko said after a while, eyes still on the city. 

Ray leaned his head against Eko’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “It is.”

[deanssweetheart23]

Holding On (And Letting Go)

Title: Holding On (And Letting Go)

Summary: When a hunt goes terribly wrong, Dean is left to deal with the consequences. 

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Claire Novak, Sam Winchester and Jody Mills (both mentioned)

Word count: 2414 (this is what happens every time I tell you I’ll drabble for your challenges, Jess)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Language. Allusions to violence and mentions of blood, hospitals and death (nothing graphic).

Author’s Note: This is my submission for @trexrambling‘s Hunter Celebration (from a very, very long time ago). My dearest Jess, thank you so much for letting me participate and being so patient with me. Life got crazy, but I’m glad I could do this and hope it’s worth the wait. 

As always, I want to thank my twin @ravengirl94 because she’s the best sounding board/writing guru ever and she’s been an incredible support to me these past 2 weeks, even when I was being quite difficult. Twin, you’re the best.

My prompt for this was “Claire, Arachne, Bear spray”. Gif’s not mine. x

Without further ado. Enjoy <3

You should have known this was a bad idea.

After all the years you’d spent arguing with the Winchesters about them being pointlessly reckless, after all the times you’d seen them die in mind-blowing ways –yes, you were still not over Dean’s death by tacos, you should have known that hunting with a rebellious teenager as your only back-up while you were still recovering from a nasty flu, was a godawful idea.

And yet, when Claire called to ask for your help tracking down an Arachne and begged you not to tell the Winchesters because Jody would tear her a new one if she knew she’d been hunting on her own, you agreed, without even stopping to think that you were making the wrong choice.

If only you had known how all of this would end…

“Y/N?” Claire bawled as she turned to look at you, hands never leaving the steering wheel. “You doing okay back there?”

“Yup. Just peachy.” You rasped out, fingers pressed tightly against your open wound. “Might –oh, shit- might pass out though.”

Claire shook her head, panic and guilt clothing her features as she drove onwards, white-knuckled.

“God, Y/N, don’t do that. I can’t –shit, I don’t know what to do. I’m so-”

“Hey,” you breathed out through gritted teeth. In and out. “It’ll be okay.”

She opened her mouth to say something in response, but quickly regretted it, nodded and pressed her foot harder on the accelerator, facing away from you.

So, you bit on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and tried to blink away the tears that were brimming in your eyes, because, Jesus, you really didn’t want to die like that.

Granted, you knew you were going to die at some point –you were a hunter, after all. But, selfishly enough, you’d always imagined your death would actually mean something, always imagined that the brothers would be there with, that Dean would be there with you.

Dean.

You really didn’t want to die without seeing Dean one last time.

There were things you wanted to tell him, things you’d kept bottled up for years and were now trying to make their way into the cool night air but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there to reach out for you, smooth a hand over your face and yell at you not to dare check out on him. He wasn’t there to beg you to stay with him, to give him a chance, to give both of you a chance.

It was funny, really. Just a few days ago, he was worried because of a stupid fever and now you were bleeding crimson into the upholstery of a car and he wasn’t there.

“Y/N?” Claire implored. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You didn’t speak.

You weren’t sure you could, tongue a dead weight in your mouth.

Instead, you let your mind drift to that night not too long ago, when you’d fallen asleep on the couch after watching a movie and Dean had covered you with a blanket, mumbling something that sounded awfully like Can’t believe how cute you are when you’re asleep, kid under his breath.

In and out.

The pain in your side was throbbing now, something cold crawling up your spine, seeping into your very bones, sharp and raw.

Maybe if you could just-

“Hey, no.” Claire barked from the driver’s seat. “Y/N, you got to stay awake.”

Dean’s smile flashed before your eyes, warm and rich like hot chocolate.

You’d always liked his smile.

It was pure and genuine, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It was the kind of smile that reminded you there was still some goodness in this messed-up world.

“C’mon, Bubbly, keep your eyes open. I know you can.”

“M’ cold.”

You wished Dean was there to hold you.

He was always so warm, solid muscles and sharp edges caressing your skin like sunshine.

Your personal heater, you used to call him.

“Y/N, please. We’re almost there.”

You couldn’t be sure, but you thought she was crying now.

“Tell Dean,” you coughed, pain clawing your sides, “that I kicked,” you gasped for air, “k-kicked that bitch’s ass.”

And then everything turned dark.

Dean hated hospitals.

He always had, ever since he was a little kid and had to drive his brother to the clinic on the handlebars of his bike because he’d thought he was a superhero and jumped off the shed before anyone could stop him.

As the years went by, and Dean had to spent hours of his life under those horrible fluorescent lights, while people he cared about, people he loved, were fighting for their lives in rooms closeby, hospitals became a place of despair and loss for him, one of those constant reminders that no matter how hard he tried, he really couldn’t save everyone.

And still, he couldn’t accept that.

Not when he was sitting on one of those stiff hospital chairs, Y/N’s body almost lifeless on the bed next to him.

No. He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t attend another friend’s funeral.

He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t watch her fade, knowing it was his own damn fault. 

He should have known she was up to something after she’d spent the entire morning acting weird, but he was too busy ogling her to notice.

He should have followed her.

He should have been the one tossed across the room, the one sliced open.

He should have been the one fighting for his life.

But he wasn’t. And Dean hated himself for that.

Letting out a deep sigh, he dragged his chair closer to Y/N’s bed and thumbed her cheek gently, heart clenching at the sight of her.

Covered in cuts and bruises, with dry and cracked lips and an IV that seemed to suck all the life out of her, she was nothing like the Y/N he knew.

She wasn’t the Y/N that laughed out loud at his most inappropriate jokes and had tried to cut Sam’s hair while the youngest Winchester was asleep just because he’d dared her to. She wasn’t the Y/N that could drink him under the table and hand him his ass in a fight if needed, the one that let him sleep in her bed whenever the nightmares became too much and made sure there was a cup of coffee left for him every morning. 

No. That Y/N was torn apart and in her place, there was just a girl, all flesh and bones, wires and breathing tubes, stripped off her brightness and her bravado and that killed him.

“Doc says you’re doing good, sweetheart.” he said. It came out scraped and wrecked and desperate, so very desperate, but he didn’t care. “Your MRI came back clean and they took you off the ventilator yesterday. One of the nurses, she said you’re the bravest patient she’s seen in a while.”

His eyes darted around the room before settling on the monitor next to her again.

He reached for her hand, small and fragile in his.

“So. Here’s the deal.” Ragged breath. “I can’t… I can’t lose you. Can you be a stubborn pain in the ass sometimes? God yes. And you got terrible taste in pretty much everything. I mean, you like cupcakes more than you like pie and listen to Sinatra instead of Zeppelin and, honestly, I’m still not over that one time you let a puppy inside Baby.”

He chuckled at the memory, broken and brittle, and bit on his bottom lip, squeezing his hand in hers.

“But you’re also – Sammy says you’re like sunshine, you know? You walk into a room and you just… light it up.” A small smile flickered across his face, sadness and fear tugging at its corners.

“And you’re… God, you’re family. You’re the one person that hasn’t left me and I can’t,” he shook his head, eyes turning dark and misty “I can’t do this without you.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Don’t make me do this without you, baby.”

Green eyes filled with heartache.

The sound of the heart monitor beeping quickly.

“Thought you didn’t do chick-flick moments, D.”

It came out thick and groggy like gravel, more scratches of sound than actual words, but it was so uniquely and perfectly Y/N that it had his eyes flickering over her face in milliseconds, heart leapt up his throat.

She was seemingly still asleep but there was a half-smirk at the corners of her lips that hadn’t been there before.

He balled his free hand into a fist, trying hard not to break into tears as he silently thanked the absent God that had, for once, listened to his prayers.

“Only for you, kid.” He smiled, a genuine smile full of heartache and relief.

She opened her eyes.

“Hi there.” She rasped out and tried to sit up, wincing in pain.

“Hey, hey, hang on for a sec.” He put a hand on her arm gently. “Let me go get a nurse for you.”

“No, I don’t –just…” she gnawed on her bottom lip, looking up at him through her lashes. “Can you stay for a while? M’ fine, I promise.”

He stared at her then, worried and appraising.

And he wanted to say that no, she needed to see a doctor because she almost died, wanted to yell at her to never do that to him again, to hold her in his arms and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe anymore, but he couldn’t let her see the cracks and splits in him, couldn’t let her all the way in when she was hurting like this.

“Okay, yeah.” He agreed, reaching for a bottle of water he kept on the table next to her bed. “Here. Drink this.”

She nodded, something grateful settling over her features and brought it to her mouth, mumbling a raspy thank you under her breath when she pulled away.

“You’re-”

“M’ in trouble. I know and I’m so sorry, Dean.” She cut him off, big, Y/E/C eyes wide and sad as they locked onto his. “I shouldn’t have –I should have told you what was going on, but Claire begged me not to and I-”

“Hey, no. None of that.” He choked out, cradling her hand in his again. “What happened was an accident. It was horrible and you scared the hell out of me but I’m just…” He pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’m just glad you’re okay, kid.”

She nodded, her fingers running over his knuckles, heavy and cold and real.

“She used a bear spray, you know. To-”

“Distract that bitch long enough for you to kill her.” His throat bobbed in a swallow. “Yeah, she told me.” A small, sad grin. “She was so fucking proud of herself for that.”

“How is she holding up?”

He rubbed a hand over his mouth.

“She’s coping. Jody’s really been there for her. So has Sam.” He glanced at the door. “He just left to go check up on them, actually.”

A hum.

Lips curled in a soft smile.

“What about you?”

His eyes flicked upwards.

“What about me?”

“You look tired.”

“M’ okay.”

“Wanna tell that to the black bags under your eyes?”

“I dunno, kid. I’m pretty sure they make the green of my eyes pop.” He said, blinking.

She sighed in frustration.

“Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“Go get some sleep.” She pleaded.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” He deadpanned, manipulating their fingers until they were intertwined. “M’ never letting you out of my sight again.”

She snorted out a laugh, a single brow arched in question.

“You do realize that’s practically impossible, right?”

“Not if you move into my room.” He replied, a minuscules smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Move into your room?”

“Yup. I’ll even let you share the memory foam mattress with me.”

“You’ll let me share the memory foam mattress with you?”

“Are you just gonna repeat everything I say?”

“I’m sorry, I just....”  She shrugged, eyes lit up with a brightness that made him want to kiss her. “I feel like there’s an ulterior motive here.” 

“Ulterior motive?” he repeated, feigning offence. “That’s –that’s hurtful, Y/N.”

“Uh-huhhhh.”

“I just like having you around. That’s all.”

“Yeah, but are you sure you want that?” she asked, an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on floating across his face. “Because rumor has it I can be a stubborn pain in the ass. And I like cupcakes more than pie. And I listen to Sinatra instead of Zeppelin. And I’m pretty sure you’re still not over that time I brought a puppy into the Impala.”

He beamed at her.

He couldn’t believe it, but he did, all delight and relief at how she was alive, breathing and awake in front of him, like nothing had ever happened, like an Arachne didn’t almost rip her apart.

It’s a miracle, the nurse’s words rang clear into his mind.

And she was.

She was his own personal miracle.

“You’re never going to let that one go, are you?”

Her face broke into a breathless smile.

Her fingers squeezed his hand.

“Nope.”

He grinned, and leaned forward until his face was only inches away from hers.

“Good.” he mumbled, eyes trailing from that little cut on her temple to her nose, then her mouth, warm and inviting.

She smiled sleepily at him, thumb running against his bottom lip.

“I-”

“I know.” He said, dropping a kiss to the corner of her mouth, chaste and sweet.

She was about to protest when he pressed his forehead against hers, calloused fingers running along her cheekbone softly.

“We got plenty time to talk about all of this.”

“In your room.” She grinned.

“In our room.” He told her softly, nudging his nose up against hers. “Get some sleep, kid. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

He looked at her then, looked at the softness in her eyes, at the way he could see her heartbeat there, could see relief and love and the possibility of a hundred tomorrows that would rise for them, and nodded, brushing his lips against hers in the softest of kisses.

“Promise.”

And he knew.

He was never letting her go.

Tags: @ravengirl94 @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @trexrambling @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @escabell @becominglionhearted @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @percywinchester27 @mogaruke @keepcalmandcarryondean @ruprecht0420 @sgarrett49 @emilywritesaboutdean @atari-writes @becs-bunker @wordstothewisereaders @winchestersnco @hannahindie @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @winchesters-flannels @captainemwinchester @pickupthatamulet @wellthatsrandomkek @polina-93 @mandilion76 @jayankles @akshi8278 @kathaswings @tiny-friggin-human @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @a-glass-of-orange-juice @ravenangel33 @holahellohialoha @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @atc74 @dancingalone21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @juanitadiann @winchestersnfriends @castianityislife02 @sinistersaltqueen @ultrafandomcat @easelweasel 

[shadows-taller]

Shield Farms

Okay so here’s a little something I dug up just recently and thought I’d share with you all. Beats me if I’ll ever finish it but I figured it was pretty good and you all might want to see it. It’s a Stucky AU (what else lmao) about horses and the desert, both of which are things I have personal experience in.

Let me know what you think! Also if you have any ideas for where this should go lol I need all the help I can get.

Steve wakes up in a cold sweat on top of his duvet, again, and resolutely can not go back to sleep. A glance at the clock tells him it’s 2:45 in the morning, a good two hours before anyone else is going to be conscious. He huffs, resigned to a fate of laying in bed until the sun’s light peeks over the desert horizon out his window.

The nightmare had been no different than it was every other night. Bright pinpricks of light flashed behind his eyelids, the heavy roar of gunfire and screaming echoing in his ears. Monty, Morita, Jones, Falsworth, and Dum-Dum. His team, his unit, his brothers-in-arms. Their faces, twisted up in agony, each shot somewhere bad, each losing blood faster than Steve can stop it. He rushes to dress their wounds, along with a field nurse in her own fatigues, and they even get the men out of the enemy's’ line of fire. But the grenade flies in and Steve sees it too late, too late to do anything but turn his back and cover his head with his elbows. That’s always where the dream ends, either with his screaming or silent, terrified shaking.

He usually lies there a while simply to regain control over his emotions.

It’s an hour later when he begins to think about his day ahead. Tony said he’d go check out the new trailer company today, a higher-end service recommended to Steve after their previous driver was pulled over for driving drunk on his way back from Kentucky. The whole mess had been horrible, a PR shitshow if they’d ever seen one. Tony also said he’d check up on Revenant, the stallion Shield Farms was going to breed with Macy’s Day, their best mare. Revenant is a behemoth from a farm across the county, a black thoroughbred with a mean streak in him but the sire of some of the fastest horses in Del Mar. If Steve can land this collaboration with Asgard it’ll be a win on both sides, as more owners will line up to mix genes with both Macy’s and Revenant.

There’s also the whole water situation. Due to the fact that the drought and forest fires have baked the land and soaked up all the water, the State of California has begun regulating how much water places like Shield Farms can use. There can’t be any more dripping hoses, unattended spigots, or dumping of perfectly good washing water. Nat’s handling that one, emailing the State to get special permits during race season when water is needed most. But the government is being very strict about the water usage, which means more headaches for Steve because he’ll have to keep reminding everyone not to waste any water whatsoever, thank you very much. He’ll have to put laminated signs up. He hates laminating things, makes him feel like a third-grade teacher.

Steve’s not too focused on the upcoming dressage show in Escondido, as he knows Wanda and Sharon are working their asses off as always. They’ve won regional titles the last five years, and Wanda even made it to second in Nationals a few years back. They’re aiming even higher this summer, for not only Nationals but International competitions as well.

Steve runs through his list of things to do. Balance accounts, pay bills, check up on the boarders’ payments, hire new trainer…

Hire new trainer. Fuck, that’s right, Hodge walked out last week. Steve was almost glad when that happened, even as dramatic as it had seemed. The guy was a bully to horses and people. It’d been Tony’s idea in the first place to hire him. He’d had a resume a mile long, ranging from working as a mustang wrangler to training at farms like Calumet and Gainesway in Kentucky. But just last week he’d had a tantrum about the construction of the arena (as if there was any way in high heaven to change that), and Steve had very bluntly told him to either suck it up or leave. Gilmore Hodge had chosen the latter.

But now they need a new trainer. A specialty trainer, to boot. Someone willing to work with the worst of the worst.

Thoroughbreds are notoriously moody. They’re bred to be fast, to race, which comes along with it high energy and a larger chance for genetics to go wrong. Breed a gentle mare with a hot-headed sire, you could get one disposition or the other, and vice versa. There’s always foals who grow up to be too excitable and/or dangerous to be used in a prestigious setting, but Steve’s never believed in giving up on anything. Hence the reason why he’s always got a trainer on hand to deal with the reject pile, make them into something someone could potentially buy as a project horse. Or, when Shield periodically invests in a mustang, someone to smooth out the first few weeks before a trainer more suited to the horse’s intended purpose would come in. Get the horse friendly and halter trained, as well as make note of the tics and buttons one shouldn’t push.

In other words, they need a very specific skill set. And nerves of steel.

Natasha probably knows someone, he thinks. She brought in Sam, Clint, America, and Wanda, some of their best people. Steve would still be in some studio apartment in Carlsbad, making just enough on commissions to scrape by, if it weren’t for her. If she hadn’t pulled him up by the bootstraps and forced him to see his own true potential, and that he didn’t have to refuse what was his out of spite. That it was fucking idiotic to refuse what was lawfully his out of spite. He owes Natasha his entire life, and trusts her to know where to go.

Steve looks over at the clock again. It reads 4:00 A.M. and he can just see the beginnings of color in the sky. He sits up and stretches, fully awake now.

His clothing of choice this morning is Adidas soccer pants (a gift from Nat on his birthday last year), a gray tank that fits tightly over his chest, and his running shoes. A morning run is essential to his routine, it gets him going and ready to face the day. Besides, how else will he stay in shape if all he ever does is sit cooped up in his office doing bills? Steve decides to see if Tony knows anyone that could help out with bookkeeping. That could be very useful.

His breakfast consists of granola and strawberries in plain yogurt with some orange juice. No one else seems to be up as he moves around the kitchen, which isn’t surprising. Tony usually gets up next after Steve, around five. Steve’ll already be on his run by then.

His route goes along the entire circumference of the farm, doubling back behind the stables and winding off into the orange and lemon grove. It follows a trail along the irrigation system, then out of the trees and up into the foothills. Steve usually follows the dirt trails back to the main road and arrives back at Shield in time to help out with morning feeding and water-checks.

He sets off from the main house as soon as he’s done rinsing out his breakfast dishes, and jogs down the front steps with his earbuds in and phone strapped safely to his bicep. The peaceful tenor of Jim Croce’s voice sets the mood of the morning; surrounded by glowing mountains and the sharp aroma of sage, Steve is all alone in his thoughts.

Ever since he was a kid, Steve has always loved the desert he grew up in. Southern California isn’t exactly a forgiving place, what with the temperatures that soar above 110 in summer and wildfires that rage for days on end. But Steve finds comfort in the heat, a constant force surrounding him, reminding him like the mountains do of his potential. Pushing him to do more than he thinks he can. Growing up poor meant no pool, no air conditioning, and little more than ice cubes and a box fan to keep cool. Stark claims Steve’s more comfortable in the sweltering midday sun than he is in a cool office for this reason, and he’s not incorrect. Steve prefers manual labor to desk work, and sports an impressive tan across his whole body because of it. He’s always believed in doing things himself and knows it’s the best way to get things done.

He comes to the spot where the trail curves off into the trees, and makes the turn as the song changes to something Hozier.

Steve breathes in the scent of lemon and orange. This grove is, along with the boarding stables and bets from races, one of Shield’s primary sources of income. They sell the fruit to local businesses, from bars to restaurants and cafes, as well as at various farmers’ markets. Banner runs the whole operation, as the guy’s got a thumb greener than the Green Giant’s and is scared shitless of horses. If he weren’t Steve’d offer the guy a position in the general offices, but that involves actually seeing the animals, which Bruce avoids at all costs. He’s in charge of paying the workers they hire to keep up the trees and fruit, as well as coordinating who they sell to. It gives Steve peace of mind, knowing he can go on his run through here and not worry about who’s working on what and whether or not things are going smoothly.

The grove comes right up to the base of some hills, not quite big enough to be called mountains, but still a challenge when it comes to running or biking on them. Steve likes to wind his way through, finding meandering paths that only fit one vehicle or a pair of horseback riders in the rare off-chance that someone comes up this way.

His head is full of music, his favorite Beatles song just beginning, as he rounds a curve and slows down at the sight in front of him.

A rusted blue pickup sits idle off on the shoulder, a faint trail of smoke leading from the engine just barely visible in the early morning sunlight.

Doesn’t have a point of view

Knows not where he’s going to

Isn’t he a bit like you and me?

Steve tugs the earbuds out of his ears and lets them hang over the collar of his shirt as he approaches the truck. Just barely he can hear someone moving around on the gravel, still out of his line of sight but footsteps eerily loud in the otherwise silent area. It’s almost unnerving, this unfamiliar truck on such an unused road at this time of day. Steve braces himself, tensing, ready to fight off some guy with a cleaver or similar.

He comes around the side of the truck to see something he wasn’t expecting.

A man, not much older than him, is muttering to himself something intelligible and running a hand through his long, black-brown hair. He’s pacing, cold eyes fixed on the engine which by now Steve can see is steadily releasing smoke. The guy seems utterly distraught, scared, even, so much so that he hasn’t noticed Steve yet.

Steve clears his throat. “Need any help, there?”

The man stops dead in his tracks and his head whips up, hand retreating lightning-fast from his brown locks. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, blue eyes almost glowing.

Steve nods to the engine. “That doesn’t look too good. I know a mechanic, I can get ‘ya a discount too. Just gotta throw ‘er in neutral and push a couple miles.”

The man swallows audibly, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. Steve can see defined muscle under his white t-shirt, from his abdomen to his chest to his arms and shoulders. He’s wearing blue jeans as well, work-worn Levis by the looks of it. Steve raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Uh, yes. That would - that would be nice, thank you.” A Russian accent rolls off the man’s tongue, thick and silky and deep. Steve nods, hoping the dim morning light hides the heat on his face at the sound of the man’s voice. The man closes the hood, then climbs into the cab to shift the truck into neutral. He hops out with catlike grace, more agile than anyone has any right to be at five thirty in the morning. Together they move to the rear bumper, one on either side of the trailer hitch. Before they begin pushing, Steve holds out his hand to the stranger.

“I’m Steve, good to meet you.”

The man takes his hand and shakes, even if it is tentative. “Likewise. You can call me Bucky.”

Bucky. An undeniably American name, for someone so obviously foreign. Steve wonders if it’s a nickname, or if it’s even his name at all; maybe it’s just the first thing that popped into his head.

He doesn’t miss the uncertain gleam in Bucky’s eyes, or the way he’s the first one to let go of the handshake.

-

The truck is heavy, as trucks usually are, so by the time they’ve made it to Peggy’s shop both men are glistening with sweat. Bucky’s breath is labored next to him, and Steve imagines his own is much the same.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of two fine men this early in the morning?” Peggy’s British accent floated through the garage, and Steve huffed a grin. Trust Peggy to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed no matter the time of day. He’d known her ever since he got home from Afghanistan, from the moment he’d walked in looking for a repairman for his convertible. He’d been in town with Nat, looking at the old Rogers place (a run-down farmhouse and barn at the time, within eleven months it had become Shield Farms), when his beloved VW had sputtered to a halt right outside Peggy’s door. The rest was, as they say, history.

“We’ve got a pickup problem, Pegs. Was on my morning run and came across Bucky here, who was looking pretty worse for wear. Decided to help ‘im out and bring his truck here. It was smoking like this -” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, at the engine in question “- when I got there.”

Peggy hums, emerging from behind a tractor with a crease between her brows. She’s got grease on her hands and coveralls, but somehow her face and makeup are as flawless as always. Steve’ll never understand how she manages it.

Bucky’s been silent the whole time. He stands slightly off to the side, arms crossed over his chest.

Peggy looks at him. “What exactly happened, and when?”

Bucky shrugs. “I was driving along the road Steve found me on, and the engine started sp - spewing this white smoke. The engine overheating symbol came on, too. I pulled over immediately and opened the hood. All I could see was the smoke and some liquid leaking, but I’m not experienced enough to know from where.”

Steve noticed Peggy’s brows bounce up at hearing Bucky’s accent. He wants to hear it forever, wants to record Bucky singing Hey Jude or Carolina In My Mind and listen to it for hours on end. It reminds him of fancy hotels in LA, all bright lights and red wine and jazz music. He could drown in Bucky’s voice, lose himself in it. Steve pictures sitting in his living room at home and listening to Bucky read anything, fuck, he could read the dictionary and Steve would listen with rapt attention. He wonders what it’d sound like in the morning, or late at night, or in the middle of -

Steve is pulled from his imaginings by the sound of Peggy’s voice. “- be two or three days before I can get the correct parts, and another after that to get your truck fixed. Is that alright?”

He sees Bucky nod once. Peggy must have diagnosed the problem and gotten Bucky to agree to a price, because they separate, Bucky to the front desk and Peggy to the truck. Steve trails after Bucky.

He’s sitting in a cushioned chair, filling out a form on his thigh. Steve drops down across from him. Bucky doesn’t look up, just keeps scribbling away. Steve wonders, not for the first time, where exactly Bucky is from, and where he’s going that he can afford to stop for four days before arriving. His truck has a New York license plate, but somehow Steve gets a feeling that’s not where Bucky comes from. Maybe his intuition is wrong. It rarely is, though, and this fact is what got him promoted to Captain within his first four years in the Army.

He decides to take a risk, just because he can.

“Hey, Bucky, so, uh, I was wondering if you’ve got a place to stay? The motels around here are nice, as far as motels go, but I’ve got an extra room at my place if you want.”

Bucky looks up from his writing, ice blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if questioning Steve’s intent. He takes a few long moments to reply.

“How much must I pay you?”

Steve immediately shakes his head. “No, no, pal. No need to pay me. This isn’t charity, just thought you might like a place nicer than a motel.”

Bucky contemplates that, obviously weighing his options in his mind. “You are sure?”

Steve nods, crossing his arms. “Of course. You can stay as long as you need.”

At that, Bucky gives him a look, something direct and it makes Steve shift nervously. Does Bucky think he’s taking advantage of him? Steve really hopes not, because not only does he know how dirty motels around here are, but because this could be an opportunity to get to know someone new. A friend.

Just then, Bucky nods sharply. “Alright. I’ll stay with you until Miss Carter has fixed my truck.”

Peggy walks in, almost as if on cue. “You nearly finished, Bucky?”

He goes back to the papers, signing here and there, and Steve watches with a small smile on his face.