#like they can share a laugh over it being ridiculous and that sam did the same thing he just complained about and dean can look v sweet

[mlobsters]

~one minute later~

supernatural s1e13 route 666 (w. eugenie ross-leming, brad buckner)

swamp diving for a corpse laden racist truck, totally normal💁‍♂️

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: none

Chapter Word Count: 1903

—-MDNI—-

A/N: the last few chapters have been a bit wild with the emotions, so let’s have some feel-good bullshit. It’s a slightly shorter chapter because this was the best place to leave it. Otherwise it would’ve been waaaayyyyy too long. Also I wrote most of this in one sitting and has only been proof read once, so let me know of any errors.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 12

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 13

The next twenty four hours passed by without incident. Films were watched - with Deans personal commentary - and snacks were munched. Sam dipped in and out, occasionally joining us for the films and scenes he preferred as we watched the entire Lord of the Rings extended edition box set, followed by a short intermission before we continued with all three of the Hobbit films.

“I mean, the Rudy-hobbit is clearly the true hero. Dude saved the day on multiple occasions. Plus I bet he’s jacked,” Dean spoke through a mouthful of popcorn.

“I know, I’m not arguing with you on this one; I completely agree. Frodo would’ve been fucked without him.” As I reached for my fifth hot chocolate Sam strode in, pj’s adorned, and hopped into the nest of blankets we’d made on my bed.

“You have to remember though that Frodo was under a great deal of pressure from wearing the ring all the time. I mean, when you think about how many men it had corrupted over the years, it’s incredible that a hobbit lasted as long as he did. Sam never had that burden,” Sam joined the conversation with his view on the matter whilst reaching for a handful of Deans popcorn and receiving nothing but a defensive slap on the knuckles.

“Yeah… no. Rudy-hobbit for the win still,” the older Winchester frowned at his younger brother, deciding that this topic was not up for negotiation. Sam huffed, rummaging through the bag of snacks he'd bought earlier and pulled out a tub of mini chocolate chip cookies.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you’re not siding with your namesake Sam. I would’ve thought you’d have been all over that,” I joined the debate again, reaching for a cookie to which Sam graciously let me take a few.

Dean's eyes lit up as he clocked what Sam had opened and started munching on.

“To be honest I don’t think that impacts a character's personality.”

Dean and I both snorted out a laugh.

“What?” Sam looked between us quizzically.

“Oh, being called Sam definitely impacts a character's personality,” Dean said whilst reaching for the cookie tub, only to have a taste of his own medicine with a slap to his hand.

“What the- no it doesn’t.”

Dean and I shared a look and answered in perfect unison.

“Yes it does.”

“You guys, seriously-”

“Everybody needs a Sam,” I raised my hot chocolate mug, to which Dean returned the toast by clinking his own hot chocolate mug with mine; copious amounts of whipped cream threatening to spill over as he repeated:

“Everybody needs a Sam.”

Sam huffed even harder than last time, shaking his head in annoyance despite the small grin on his lips.

“You guys are ridiculous.”

“Yeah but you love us really,” I poked him affectionately in the ribs.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

There were a few moments of silence; Sam likely being grateful that the topic of conversation was coming to an end. Or at least so he thought.

“I mean, if you really think about it,” Dean had no intention of dropping the discussion just yet, spitting his words through another large mouthful of popcorn. “Sam is probably one of the most popular names in pop culture.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“Oh yeah? And you’re a ‘pop culture’ enthusiast now?”

Dean ignored the sarcastic jab before carrying on. Either that or he was totally oblivious to it.

“You’ve got Sam from Lord of the Rings, Sam from Game of Thrones, Looney Tunes Gunslinger Sam, Sam from Cap’n ‘Merica, Sam from Transformers, Sam from The Thing, Sam from The Lost Boys, Sam from Tron:Legacy, Sam fro-”

“OK! I get it, Dean. You can stop now, geez…” Sam rubbed his temples, perhaps a little over dramatically. I turned to Dean, grinning and giving him a little pat on the arm.

“Hot dayum Dean! You do know pop culture!”

He tried to hide his smug grin behind a sip of his drink.

“What can I say? It’s how I get so lucky with the ladies.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

He returned the eyebrow gesture with a wiggle from both of his. Before he even had a chance to verbally respond I snapped my fingers and spun around to Sam.

“Don’t forget Dr Seuss! Sam I Am!”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head as Dean brought his hands together in a single loud, crisp, clap.

“Yes! Nice one,” he held his hand up for a high five, to which I returned with great enthusiasm. He leaned forwards to look past me to his brother and put on a terrible British accent, “yes, Sam I am, where art thou green eggs and ham?”

“That’s it!” Sam threw his hands up and jumped up off the bed. “You guys are nuts; you need to go outside and touch some grass or something.”

I pouted.

“What? Nooo.”

“Yeah I’m with the princess on this one; really not interested in looking at the sky today.”

I turned to Dean, my hand over my heart and a playful smile on my lips.

“Aww, Dean, you think I’m a princess?”

“Yeah, an unhinged princess with an attitude problem.”

“Fuck you.”

“There it is.”

Sam stood watching, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How much sugar have you two had? Like seriously?”

“I don’t know, maybe a farm's worth?” Dean spoke nonchalantly as he lowered his mug to reveal a whipped cream moustache. Part of me had the urge to lick it off, and the other part of me wanted to not tell him about it and let him walk around all day like that. Sam wasn’t like me though, and quickly signalled to his brother with a tap of his finger that he needed to wipe his face.

“We're going out. Shopping. I need a new jacket and Dean, you can't hide that hole in your boots any longer,” Sam stood with his hands on his hips as he listened to us both groan and slump harder into our nest of blankets.

“Do we have to…?” I whined in a childlike manner that definitely justified Sam's ‘annoyed mother' demeanour.

“Yes! Now get up and get dressed, the pair of you. I'll be waiting in the garage in 15 minutes.”

As Sam left my room, Dean and I let out a long, dramatically exasperated sigh, pulling the blankets up to our chin.

“Since when did we let him boss us around?” Dean stared up at the ceiling.

I shrugged.

“Since he's normally the one to buy us food?”

He hummed and nodded slightly in agreement.

“You're probably right- hey what are you doing?” It was like I'd stolen pie from Deans grasp when I threw the blankets back and hopped out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom to turn the shower on.

“Getting ready to go out. Obviously,” my words were shortly followed by the familiar clanking of the plumbing in my en suite, causing Dean to raise his eyebrows.

“Has it always done that?”

“Yup,” I popped the ‘P’ as I rummaged through the lack of clothing in my draws and duffle bag, making a mental note to also purchase some clothes whilst we were out.

“Want me to take a look?” He sat up, clearing his throat, masculinity all of a sudden oozing from his pores at the opportunity to be a man and fix something.

“You think you could?” I busied about arranging an outfit on my bed, too preoccupied to look at him and witness his growing smirk, his arms folding across his broad chest.

“Sweetheart, you of all people should know how good I am with my hands.”

I gawped at him as my head shot up to see him saunter over to where I was stood, the corners of my open mouth turning up as I playfully slapped him on the chest with the top I was going to wear.

“Do you have to turn everything so filthy?”

“You make it so easy; lookin’ like you do. Plus…” he tilted his head. I responded by tilting mine, urging him to continue - though I'd probably regret it.

“I know what face you make when you come; that shit lives rent free,” he tapped his temple with a devilish grin on his lips, his comment pulling a shocked gasp from my lungs at his crudeness - though I was grinning the whole time.

“That's it, get out and go get dressed,” I evaded his reaching hands as I ducked under his arm and pushed on his back, nudging him towards the door.

“Aww, no joint shower?” He pouted.

“What? No! That's a boyfriend privilege! Like time I checked, we were just fuck buddies.”

He seemed to think for a second, like he debated saying something that was right on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down and said calmly:

“Yeah that's fair.”

*

It didn't take long for me to get ready - promising to myself I'd wash my hair this evening to keep my shower quick. Whilst getting dressed I'd pulled on some jeans that were definitely a size too small; the denim hugging my thighs and ass excruciatingly tight - albeit they looked fantastic - and every time I bent over the button and belt buckle dug into the soft skin just below my belly button. I sighed, knowing how annoying this was going to be all day despite not having anything else to wear that was clean or not one of Charlie's sexy outfits. I tugged my tank top over my head; it doing very little to hide the sudden appearance of a muffin top and causing me to sigh again. I looked around for my flannel, hoping that would help but not finding it anywhere. After a few minutes I admitted defeat, putting on my boots and leaving my room.

As I hurried down to the garage I clocked a black, white and grey flannel hanging on the back of a chair. Not caring that it wasn't mine, I grabbed it and threw it on, rolling up the long sleeves to just below my elbow, the hem of the shirt dropping to just below my ass. Perfect.

As I continued my walk and having completely forgotten that I'd thrown the shirt on, I strolled hurriedly into the garage; the heavenly sound of the impala rumbling as the engine ticked over. Spotting Sam and Dean already in the front of the car, I slid into the back seat just being Sam with both boys muttering a greeting before Dean put Baby in reverse, resting his arm on the seat behind Sam as he twisted to look out the rear window. He did a double take when we looked at me, an unusual expression befalling his features that I couldn't quite place.

“You're wearing my shirt?” His voice was low, which I don't think he intended.

“Oh uhhh, I couldn't find mine so I used the first one I saw. I can take it off?”

“Don't,” it came out quick, surprising us both, “I mean, it looks good on you. You should keep it.”

I couldn't stop the warmth blooming in my cheeks.

“Thank you. And if you're really ok with that? I'd…I'd love to keep it. Thanks Dean.”

As we pulled away I saw his smile reach his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Up Next: Chapter 14

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[greta-van-rose]

Middle of the Night🌙(Part 1)// J.T.K

Pairing ; Jake Kiszka x reader

series

Trope - Friends to Lovers (slow burn with angst)

A/N; I had the idea so i'm doing it... also I'm a college student and will try and update as much as I can !!

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (that's all I can think of)

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

You've been best friends with the twins since second grade. Josh had sat with you inside during recess because you had forgotten your homework at home; he had actually gotten himself in trouble by talking back to the teacher and swears that he did it on purpose. "No one should be punished for an honest mistake, she was being ridiculous!" and a beautiful friendship had bloomed.

It feels like that was just yesterday, and all of a sudden you were getting ready to graduate. Twins still by your side along with their siblings and his youngest brothers best friend Daniel.

Currently sitting in the Kiszka's backyard beside the fire. As a "Last Hoorah" Josh said when he presented the idea.

"How does it feel knowing Monday you will officially be done with the grand 'Frankenmuth High'" Sam questioned with a huff taking the seat next to you.  Arm slung around your shoulders drink in the other hand alcohol very apparent on his breath. "All I have to say is good riddance" you reply slight giggle while you slightly lean into him to keep him steady. 

"Awh come on sunshine, it wasn't all that bad" Josh jokes standing in front of you two. "yeah yeah Joshua, now if I can be excused I want another drink" You say holding up an empty cup "Come on love, you can't leave me" Sam groans reaching out to you as you got up, you had a hunch he has a crush on you, it's very sweet but Sam is a heavy flirt, all the Kiszka boy's are. "Let the poor girl be Sam" Josh steps in sitting next to Sam. "I'll wait for you my love!" Sam dramatically shouts for everyone in a 5 mile radius to hear. You giggle walking past a group of people sitting around Jake, sharing stories of the year.

The relationship you had with Jake was different from Josh and Sam. Recently it's taken a turn for the worse. There's been some weird tension that came out of nowhere. He doesn't call you by any of the sweet nicknames him and his twin had given you growing up, any sort of physical touch gone, even glances your way during class that turned into making stupid faces from across the room trying to make the other person laugh had disappeared. You had decided to distance yourself from him, assuming he had a girlfriend and didn't want to cross an boundaries, which you respected but also thought he cared enough to acknowledge your existence or give an explanation.

Making your way into the kitchen to make another drink and grab Sam a bottle of water, you hear the back door open and close, choosing to ignore whoever just came in a continue with your drink.

"Sammy boy is really putting the moves there on ya" you hear from behind you, recognizing the voice as Jake's you tense up a bit. "He sure is, everyone in a 5 mile radius can hear him" he chuckles and comes to stand by you. "Can't blame the kid" is all he says grabbing the drink you had just made and turning around, you lightly grab his arm-feeling him tense "that's mine Kiszka, make your own. And what do you mean by that?" You say facing his back.

He finally faces you, eyes scanning your face. Having a war within himself, he has something he wants to say but he just won't.

After what feels like a lifetime of silence, he shakes his head muttering "nothing" and walking outside. Being left there dumbfounded, you have no idea what to do. You finally choose to follow him back outside and getting some kind of explanation. You must have sat there for longer than you thought because by the time you got to the fire Jake had his arm around another girl and didn't even look your way.

Deciding to let it go no matter the heaviness you felt in your chest, you walk back over to Sam Josh and Danny who were trying to "go find bigfoot". "My love has returned!" Sam cheers running to you "Glad you missed me Sammy" chuckling as you return the hug. "You seem sad what's wrong" he rushes out looking at your face. Josh shot a look in your direction with a raised eyebrow, sending him a look of 'i'll tell you later' while returning back to Sammy "I just missed you and couldn't stand to be away from you any longer" squishing his face and releasing the hug. " "Alright lover boy let's go to bed" Josh tries to drag him in the house. "No I can not deny my girl of my presence" he fights coming back to you,"I'll be here when you get up you need to lay down" He reluctantly gives in after I pinky promised to be here until he gets up in the morning.

Danny went inside with Sam, during this fiasco all the other people were gone from the fire and you assume they had all left, but no sign of Jake. Josh waves you over to the fire "come on talk to me" he pats your back as you take a seat next to him.

Josh was your person. He could read you like a book and knew exactly how to be there for you. He is your number one, but you hadn't talked to him about the Jake situation. You didn't want to put him in an awkward position.

So you sat there in silence for a minute debating if you wanted to let it all out. "You know you can talk to me right, about anything or anyone. I'm always here for you." He reassures sensing the state you're in. "Even if it's someone you share DNA with." you mutter. "Even if it's someone I share DNA with."

Letting out a sigh you begin, as you talk the angrier and more hurt you get. Alcohol amplifying said emotions, you feel a tear run down your face. "Hold on sunshine" Josh interrupts looking at your face wiping the tears, "not to make you feel bad, but why didn't you tell me any of this. I could have helped or talked to him." he seems hurt. "I didn't want to put you in a bad spot, things were fine just different between us but after tonight I don't know what that means or if I pushed a boundary. I don't want to upset him but I feel like that's all I've been doing and I don't know how." As you wiped your face from the excess tears, Jake was walking towards the fire from the front of the house.

Laying Directly next to you, was his acoustic guitar. Dammit. You quickly wiped your face to make sure it was dry. Just then making eye contact with him, his face flashed with concern and looked like he wanted to comfort. Yet, he grabbed his guitar and said goodnight.

As he walked in the house you turned to Josh "I know exactly what it is" Josh then looked at you with a smile. "How can you be smiling, and how do you know any of that, has he talked to you about this?" your mind is now racing, "I will not be the one to tell you but, I will go confirm it with dear Jacob, but listen to me when I tell you this. You have nothing to worry about because I know how you feel as well" He squeezes your shoulder as he stands up reaching out his hand for you to grab.

"You Kiszka's just hate giving explanations apparently. You stand your ground and don't grab his hand. “Please just trust me on this."He grabs your hand from your lap and pulls you up "On the other hand, you're going to lay down and go to sleep."

You both walk to the house, parting ways as he goes upstairs and you go to sleep in the living room. After grabbing the blankets and pillows you look at the clock and see it's only 1:00 a.m. As you go to lay down, you're still in jeans and didn't plan on staying the night so you didn't grab any clothes. You could go in Ronnie's room and use her's, but felt bad invading her space, so you opted for Josh.

As you're about to knock on the door it swings open, revealing Jake, not wanting to give him a chance to say anything "I didn't plan on staying the night so I was just coming up to ask Josh for some clothes to sleep in." You say slightly avoiding eye contact. "Oh, he's cleaning up outside. I'll grab you some" he motions for you to come in and sit on the bed.

You take a seat on Josh's bed as Jake grabs you clothes from his drawers. He hands you a pair of sweatpants, a faded 'Terry Reid' shirt that looked older than he was, and a 'Frankenmuth High Soccer' hoodie with Kiszka #8 on the back. You mutter a thank you and get up to walk out of the room. Suddenly Jake's gentle grip is felt on your wrist; stopping you in your tracks.

"Goodnight" He finally said and let your wrist go.

You go to the bathroom across the hall to change into the clothes and process whatever it was that just happened. After changing and brushing your teeth you head downstairs to sleep on the couch.

"You know Ronnie's at her friend's house for the night, you don't have to sleep on the couch" Jake says coming around the corner with two glasses of water in his hands. 

“I'm okay with the couch, I don’t want to invade her space” you reply, adjusting the blankets and pillows on the couch before laying down, trying to avoid looking at him. “Suit yourself then. Here's water” he said, shrugging and setting the glass on the coffee table. Muttering a quiet “thank you” as you hear him go up the stairs. Sighing trying not to think about the situation with you and Jacob, you can't help but hear Josh’s words echoing in your head as you drift off to sleep.

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

[braveclementine]

Expo and Trial

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

Over the next six months, Tony was making preparations for the New York Expo. You sat on his lap as he made the entrance preparations- he was going to fly in with his suit. He'd hired one of those women line dancer teams. Pepper was helping as well, so that it went smoothly, and they were goin to be wearing ridiculous outfits.

Both you and Tony had cleaned up nicely after the accident. He'd healed faster of course, but you weren't to far behind and you were jumping and running again. Of course, you also had a fear now of being to close to people's feet, so Tony had constructed a large obstacle course around the entire house so that you could run through tubes in the sky. Each room had small sets of stairs coming down from the holes in the wooden or plastic tubes so you could get to the floor.

You absolutely loved the obstacle course. It showed how much Tony cared about you, not to mention there were lots of hiding spots which your rabbit side loved. There were also lots of sleeping spots.

Tony had also gotten you another bow to wear to the Expo. This time, it was a red one with a little white dot in the middle. It would match with all of the other costumes there.

You and Tony were also extremely close. The two of you did pretty much everything together, even sleeping in the same bed. Well, more like you slept on his chest, but it was basically the same thing.

Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey were around a lot more, which was really nice. Happy had stepped up and was now fulfilling the role of a bodyguard along with being the driver and also the. . . forehead of security? You were pretty sure that just meant he worked at Stark Industries.

When the day of the actual Stark Expo opening came around, Pepper put your little bow tie on you and brought you to the actual building. You were brought backstage and you waited on a little stand until Tony was to come through. You couldn't actually see the stage, though you knew the girls were out there dancing.

You waited patiently, your paws tucked under you and your ears laid flat against your body so that you could deafen the loud music and cheering a bit.

Finally, the cheering erupted and you knew that meant Tony was there. You perked up just a little bit, lifting a singular ear to swivel it around.

"Oh it's good to be back!" You heard Tony's voice ring through the auditorium. "You missed me?"

"BLOW SOMETHING UP!" Someone shouted from the crowd.

"Blow something up? I already did that." Tony commented off handedly. The crowd laughed and then quieted a little as he continued the speech. You had heard the speech a thousand times as he'd rehearsed it and it made you roll your eyes just a little. "I'm not saying, that the world is enjoying its longest period of interrupted peace in years-" Here the cheering grew even louder, "-because of me."

"I'm not saying that from the ashes of captivity, never has a greater Phoenix metaphor been personified in human history! I'm not saying that Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair, sipping on an iced tea, because I haven't come across anyone who's man enough to go toe to toe with me on my best day!"

"I LOVE YOU TONY!" Someone in the crowd shouted and you wrinkled your nose, getting to your paws and stretching.

"Please. It's not about me. It's not about you. It's not even about us. It's about legacy. It's about what we choose to leave behind for future generations. And that's why for the next year and for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest men and women of nations and corporations the world over will pull their resources, share their collective vision, to leave behind a brighter future. It's not about us! Therefore, what I am saying, if I'm saying anything, is welcome back to the Stark Expo!"

The crowd cheered louder and the lights grew dimmer.

"And now, making a special guest appearance from the great beyond, to tell you what it's all about, please welcome my father, Howard."

Tony walked off the stage and came into your view in quick moments. You perked up, standing on your hind legs to greet him.

He smiled, petting your head as you lowered yourself back down onto all fours. "How'd I do sweetheart?"

You wiggled your nose and nipped his finger gently. You watched him take a black box out of his pocket to prick his finger with and after a few moments, it beeped. You weren't sure what it was for, but whatever it was, he seemed to be just slightly upset about it. You nudged his hand.

He glanced back down at you, slipping the black recorder thing in his pocket and picked you up in his hands. "Alright Pumpkin. Time to brave the world."

Tony had fixed a very special bag for you that allowed you to sit on his shoulder. It meant that your front paws were propped on his shoulder, your head facing the same as his, but your legs were supported underneath. If things got to be to much, you could duck into the bag and hide.

Happy was the one that got you guys out. He led in the front while Tony and another guard followed.

There were plenty of people that wanted to meet Tony. He shook hands with women and men, and when one of the blonds gave him a card and told him to call her, you took it out of his hand with your mouth and spat it out onto the floor. Tony grinned at you out of the corner of his eye before he knelt down to say hi to the children. He signed posters for them.

Finally, Happy and Tony shouldered out and you were mostly left alone. "Did it go mellow?" Tony asked.

"It wasn't so bad." Happy commented.

"No, it's perfect."

"Look what we got here, the new model."

"Hey, does she come with the car?"

"I certainly hope so. Don't tell Pepper I said that, it was a joke." Happy said.

"Hi, and you are?"

"Marshall."

"Irish, I like it."

You glared at her over his shoulder.

"Pleased to meet you Tony."

"I'm on the wheel, you mind?" Tony asked, slinging your bag off his shoulder to let you out and put you in the cup holder. "Where you from?"

"Bedford."

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you.

"Yeah, you found me. Sorry though, got my soulmate now." Tony replied, scratching your head softly.

"Actually, I'm serving subpoenas." The red head said, holding a piece of paper out.

"Yikes." Tony commented after a second, looking away from her.

Happy reached across Tony to grab the paper, "He doesn't like to be handed things."

"Yeah, I have a peeve." Tony commented.

"You are hearby ordered to appear before the Senate Armed Services Committee tomorrow morning at 9 a.m."

"Can I see a badge?"

"You wanna see the badge?"

"Yeah, he likes the badge." Happy commented before you turned and glared at him. He went silent.

The red head pulled our her badge and asked, "You still like it?"

"Yep." Tony sighed. He started up the car and turned to Happy. "How far are we from D.C?"

"D.C.? 250 miles." Happy said.

Tony stepped on the gas and you sped out of there, ears flying backwards in the wind.

Well, things were going to get very exciting now, weren't they?

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

The next morning, Tony was at the Congress building. You couldn't sit with him, so you were right behind Tony in Pepper's lap. At the moment, Tony had turned to talk to Pepper, although you were terrible at reading lips and had no idea what he was telling her.

"Mr. Stark, can we pick up now where we left off?" Another gravel bang. "Mr. Stark? Please."

Tony finally turned around saying, "Yes, dear?"

There was a round of laughter.

"Can I have your attention?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you or do you not possess a specialized weapon?" Senator Stern asked.

"I do not." Tony replied.

"You do not?" Senator Stern repeated back to him.

"I do not, well it depends on how you define the word weapon." Tony added.

"The Iron Man weapon."

"My device does not fit that description."

"Well, how would you describe your. . .?"

"I would describe it by defining it as it is, senator."

"As?"

"It's a high-tech prosthesis."

For some reason you couldn't understand, it brought on a round of laughter.

"That is, that's actually the most apt description I could make of it."

"It's a weapon Mr. Stark. I hate to inform you it's a weapon."

"Please, if your priority was actually the well-being-"

"My priority is to get the Iron Man weapon turned over to the people of the United States of America." Senator Stern interrupted him and you started to bristle in Pepper's lap.

"Well, you can forget it. I am Iron Man. The suit and I are one. To turn over the Iron Man suit would be to turn over myself, which is tantamount to indentured servitude or prostitution depending on which state you're in. I can't have it." There was another round of laughter, of which time you actually understood.

"Look, I am no expert."

"In prostitution? Of course not, you're a senator, come on!" Tony interrupted. He turned and Pepper gave him a shake of her head. He just raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not an expert in weapons. But we have somebody here who is an expert on weapons. I would now like to call Justin Hammer our current primary weapons contractor."

You turned your head to see a slender, tall man in a blue suit, with glasses and brown hair standing now.

"Let the record reflect that I observed Mr. Hammer entering the chamber and I am wondering if and when any actual expert will also be in attendance."

More laughter. You really hoped this all went well.

Justin Hammer laughed weirdly into the microphone, making your fur stand on end. "Absolutely. I am no expert. I defer to you, Anthony. You're the wonder boy. Uh, Senator, if I may. I may well not be an expert, but you know who was the expert? Your dad! Howard Stark. Really a father to all of us all and to the military-industrial age. Let's just be clear, he was no flower child. He was a lion. We all know why we're here: in the last six months, Anthony Stark has created a sword with untold possibilities. And yet he insists it's a shield. He asks us to trust him as we cower behind it. I wish I were comforted Anthony, I really do. I'd love to leave my door unlocked when I leave the house, but this ain't Canada. You know we live in a world of grave threats, threats that Mr. Stark will not always be able to foresee. Thank you. God bless Iron Man, God bless America."

There was scattered applause and Senator Stern said, "That is well said, Mr. Hammer. The committee would now like to invite Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodey to the chamber."

"Rhodey?" Tony said aloud and your ears perked up. Rhodey would be the best line of defense for Tony.

Tony actually got up and went to greet him, though you couldn't hear the words said between the two of them.

"I have before me a complete report on the Iron man weapon compiled by Colonel Rhodes and Colonel, for the record, can you please read page 57, paragraph 4?"

"You're requesting that I read specific selections from my report, senator?" Rhodey asked.

"Yes, sir."

"It was my understanding that I was going to be testifying in a much more comprehensive and detailed manner."

"I understand. A lot of things have changed today."

"You do understand that reading a single paragraph out of context does not reflect the summary of my finding?"

"Just read it Colonel. I do. Thank you."

You wished you could bark or hiss at him out of frustration. Or that you were just plain human and could say something about it, though what could you possibly say? You were Tony Stark's soulmate, of course you were going to stand up for him!

"Very well. As he does not operate within any definable branch of government," He hesitated and then continued on, "the Iron Man presents a potential threat to the security of both the nation and to her interests. I did, however, go on to summarize that the benefits of Iron man far outweigh the liabilities-"

"Uh that's enough."

"-and that it would be in our best interest-"

"That's enough Colonel."

"-to fold Mr. Stark into the existing chain of command."

"That's enough!"

"I'm not a joiner but I'll consider Secretary of Defense, if you ask nice." Tony finally put out there, making everyone laugh. "We can amend the hours a little bit."

Rhodey just drank his water.

"I'd like to go on and show, if I may, the imagery that's connected to your report."

"I believe that it is somewhat premature to reveal these images to the general public at this time." Rhodey replied.

"With all due respect, Colonel, I understand. And if you could just narrate those for us, we'd be very grateful."

Rhodey sighed, "Show the images."

You couldn't see much of what was being shown in the first photo. There were too many people in the way, but it looked like a satellite image. Most of it was gray, different shades of it to show buildings. There was a large yellow box pointing to something you couldn't quite see.

"Intelligence suggests that the devices seen in these photos are in fact attempts of making manned copies of Mr. Stark's suits. This has been corroborated by our allies and local intelligence on the ground-"

You could see Tony was hunched down in his seat with some sort of device and you paid closer attention to the screen.

"-indicating that these suits are quite possibly at this moment, operational."

Tony leaned forward, lifting the device. "Hold on a second buddy, let me see. There's something here. Oh, boy I'm good."

There were gasps from the crowd and it looked almost as though the screen was being hacked. You could feel, rather than hear, Pepper's sigh.

"Now can I get more screens."

You could see that Rhodey looked exasperated.

"I need them. Time for a little transparency. Now let's see what's really going on!"

The senator leaned forward in his seat.

"What is he doing?"

"If you'll direct your attention to said screens, I believe that's North Korea." The video played, showing one of the mechs coming out of a building. It fell on its side, bullets spraying out of its firing canisters and the camera was suddenly splattered with something red. You flinched in Pepper's hands.

"Turn that off." The senator demanded, rising from his seat.

"Iran." Tony said, punching another button on the device.

The robots exploded on their own.

"No grave, immediate threat here. Is that Justin Hammer? How did Hammer get in there? Justin, you're on TV, focus up. "

You watched Tony turn to look at Rhodey. Rhodey turned his head to hide his smile. You were smiling too, even though it didn't really show on your face. Finally, Justin unplugged the TV.

"Wow. Yeah, I'd say most countries, 5-10 years away." Tony finished. "Hammer Industries 20."

"I'd like to point out that the test pilot survived." Justin snapped.

"I think we got the point that he's making. I don't think that there's any reason-"

"The point is, you're welcome. I guess."

"For what?"

"Because, I'm your nuclear deterrant. It's working. We're safe. America is secure. You want my property? You can't have it! But I did you a big favor! I've successfully privatized world peace." He stood up to big applause. "What more do you want? For now! I'm tired of all of these ass clowns!"

"Fuck you Mr. Stark. Fuck you buddy. We're adjourned. We're adjourned for today."

"Okay."

"You've been a delight."

Tony took you out of Pepper's arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Though he was outshining with positive energy, talking about how he was with the people, you could feel his heart beating quickly.

As he exited the courthouse, you struggled in his arms to look up at him and then you nudged his cheek.

"I love you Pumpkin." Tony grinned down at you. "Let's go home." 

[firstelevens]

one line, any fic

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

tagged by @bisamwilson! Thank you, Mak!

no-pressure tagging: @birdhapley @monroesimons @philtstone @urlbending @ankahikoibaat @sonseulsoleil and I truly can’t think of four more people, so if you see this and want to do it, assume that I tagged you in spirit

hello, welcome home (Spider-Man: Homecoming)

Michelle tilts her head up to look at the sky and tips a half-salute to nothing. “Spider-Man,” she says, as solemnly as she can muster, “if you’re out there, binch, I love you.”

parks and rebellion (Rogue One)

“The people here live in fear of two things,” Cassian had told her once, over waffles. “A nuclear apocalypse and the day the squirrels finally decide to organize their ranks and overrun our town.” It surprised a laugh out of her, loud and delighted, and the grin she’d received in return was so disarming that it should’ve come with a warning.

love on rewind (everything is so throwback-ish) (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

Sam hears the click of the switchblade being folded before Bucky’s hand–the right one–is on his wrists, thumb gently running over where the zip tie dug into Sam’s skin.

and now it’s light (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

It takes a moment for his words to register, and then a grin spreads across Bucky’s face, slow and triumphant. “Sweetheart, are you jealous of the cat?”

by land, by sea, by dirigible (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier/Cloak & Dagger)

“I’m not sure it’ll be a good look for Captain America to threaten the executives of a mid-sized oil company with blackmail,” Sam says. Before Bucky can offer to do it, he adds, “You either, White Corgi.”

you always say i’m wrong (i’m pretty sure i’m right) (Spider-Man: Homecoming)

There are things that rise to Michelle’s lips immediately — ‘you did this for me?’ and ‘you didn’t have to’ and ‘that is both sweet and ridiculous and now I have to break up with you because if you keep being thoughtful like this I’m going to lose my reputation as a stoic badass just by association’ — but she stops herself from saying them.

if you got the notion (i second that emotion) (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

It’s possible that, as Captain America, Sam should discourage this kind of behavior, but sometimes the only thing that cheers him up after a frustrating joint mission is watching an annoying SWORD agent grit out a thank-you when Bucky hands over triple copies of their exhaustive paperwork, all filled out in beautiful and perfectly illegible cursive.

a friend of any sort (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

“Maybe next time,” is what he says instead. Then, because AJ’s face falls just a little: “I gotta do some reading first so I can show up your Uncle Sam.”

the way you sound in the morning (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier)

Even half-asleep, Sam is a menace: he retaliates with a nip to Bucky’s jaw and almost makes him spill his coffee.

love at first sight’s for suckers (at least it used to be) (Spider-Man: Homecoming)

She can't help but steal a glance behind her as he walks away and of course his shoulders are super nice and kind of broader than she’d ever realized and Jesus Christ, if MJ sits here any longer she is going to burst into literal, actual flames

[slyersky]

Dean Winchester x F!Reader - Not a word (Part 1)

(A/N): I wrote this fic like… over two years ago. It‘s actually crazy. Never knew how to continue it as a one-shot, I considered just leaving it like it is for an ✨open end✨. But here we are… and I have decided to split it into several parts.

This first part is incredibly old. Be warned about the cliché stuff I wrote lmao „:) Part two is already in the works

Content: kinda angsty, mentions of blood, character death, reader is a bit of a cardboard cutout of Dean (sorry)

Words: ~3,900

“Are you serious right now?!”, (Y/n) stared at her younger sister in shock.

“What’s wrong with going on a hunt?”, (Sisters name) asked, her eyes locked with (Y/n)s for a second while she packed some of her clothes in a brown, worn-out bag. The older one sighed and shook her head.

“There’s nothing wrong with that... But why are you planning on going on a hunt with the goddamn Winchesters? They are nothing but trouble. You’ll get hurt, I know it.”, (Y/n) walked towards her sister and laid a hand on her shoulder, making her stop in her actions. “You’re still new to this business... And you’re even younger than Sam, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I can take care of myself. I’m not a little kid anymore, (Y/n)!”, (S/n) pouted and freed herself from her sister's grip. She stuffed something in her bag and closed it. The younger sister walked to the door of the motel room the two of them shared. “I’m going. Even if you tell me not to.”

While (S/n) walked out the door (Y/n) grabbed her backpack and hurried out of the room. Her younger sister was already sitting in the car, trying to turn it on. The hunter opened the driver's seat door and pulled her out.

“What the fuck?!”, her sister shouted and wanted to push her away.

“Get in the passenger seat. I’m coming with you. And I don’t want you to ruin my car.”, (Y/n) threw her backpack in the car and hopped in. Her sister got in the car and (Y/n) pulled out of the driveway.

“So... Why do you hate the Winchesters so much?”, (S/n) turned to look at her older sister. She gritted her teeth and thought for a moment.

“I don’t hate them... I simply dislike them. I had to work with them already and they are a pain in the ass, especially Dean...”, (Y/n) stated, trying to remain calm.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, I can see it.”, the girl gave her sister a stern look, wanting more information on the topic. Suddenly, a grin formed on her face and she leaned back in her seat. “Wait a minute... Did you...sleep with one of the brothers...?” (Y/n) snorted and gave her sister a look of surprise.

“What? No! You’re being ridiculous right now! Why would I ever do that? Do you really think my standards are that low?”, the (h/c) haired woman tried to focus on the road again and the girl next to her laughed.

“But... why don’t you want to see them, then?”, (S/n) asked again.

“Well... I told you already, that they are nothing but trouble. Wherever they are there’s bound to be trouble. The last time I saw them we didn’t part on good terms. Do they even know who you are...?”

“Of course they know. I told them that I’m (S/n) (L/n). There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

“Well... They probably don’t remember our last name, so I guess that’s the reason they allowed you to join. But how did you find them?”

“They were in the same library we were in, a few days ago. I went to find some more books and that’s when I met Sam. He helped me get a book that was on one of the high shelves. Once he saw what the book was about he asked if I was a hunter, I said yes and we talked a bit. Then Dean came around the corner and I introduced myself. Sam and I decided that we would keep in touch and if one of us finds something, they are going to contact the other. So now I have his phone number.”, (S/n) smiled and (Y/n) sighed. They continued to drive to the motel Sam had asked the younger sister to come to.

Sam stopped and looked out of the window as he heard a car engine. It was a grey ‘83 Lincoln Mark VI Continental, that was currently parking near the motel room Sam and Dean shared. The brunette smiled, as he watched a young woman with a familiar get out of the car. She took a brown, worn-out bag with her and started looking for the right room. A few moments later, a knock was heard on the door.

“Looks like the little kid’s here.”, Dean said as he got up from one of the squeaky beds. Sam made his way to the door and opened it.

“Hey, guys!”, (S/n) said and a smile formed on her lips. Sam was about to reply when he saw a second person approach. It was a young woman with (h/c) hair. She was a bit taller than (S/n) and had a backpack in her hands.

“Hello Sam...”, she said, her expression showed that she was nervous. Now Sam remembered her.

“Hey (Y/n)...”, Sam replied. Dean walked up to the door as he heard that name. (Y/n) and he made eye contact for a second.

“Hello Dean...”, Dean didn’t reply and went back into the room.

“Well... I knew that I heard that last name before...”, Sam smiled at (S/n) and then at her older sister.

“...Uhh... Sam... You said that you found something...?”, (Y/n)s sister asked, trying to prevent awkward silence.

“Oh! Right... Follow me...”, Sam led the two to a table in the corner of the room. Books and notes were scattered across it. (Y/n) smiled. Sam was still as hardworking and Dean was just as lazy if it came to research. (S/n)s eyes sparkled, as she saw how much Sam had found out.

“Wow... That’s like... a lot of research you did there...”, she looked at Sam, who scratched his neck awkwardly and laughed lightly.

“Anyway... What are we looking for?”, the older (L/n) asked, she had a curious look on her face and her hands rested on her hips.

“We’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, we’ll bring back food.”, (S/n) grinned and closed the door behind her, following Sam. (Y/n) waved and smiled at her younger sister, but as the door closed, her smile faded and she turned around to look at Dean. He sat on the bed and it was obvious that he had watched her every move. The woman waited for him to speak, feeling too creeped out by him to talk first.

“So... The little kid is pretty alright. She seems to be nicer than some of the rest of her family.”, the male gave her a look that exactly showed what he meant, but (Y/n) ignored it.

“Yeah, she’s just like our mother... Dad didn’t like that very much though...”, she smiled sadly and looked down. “I see that you and Sam get by great. I’m happy you two didn’t die or something...”

“Says the one who left us to rot on a wendigo hunt.”, Dean looked her straight in the eye with a piercing and steely look. The female took a deep breath.

“I didn’t leave you to rot. You two were gone when I was done. I thought you left already. How should I have known that you were still in there?”, this angered Dean even more. He stood up and walked up to (Y/n).

“Maybe you could have looked for us. Or you could have tried called us! You know, I wouldn’t have cared if I died, but Sammy was in serious danger! He almost died in there!”, the older Winchester was struggling not to let out his anger on the younger female in front of him. But what she said next, soothed his anger a bit.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was a terrible partner. We were supposed to look out for one another... But I failed to do that. You have every right to hate me. I... Uhm... I started to get how important your brother's safety is to you after (S/n) joined me. But I’m... I’m really relieved that you’re alright... And I mean it when I say that I’m glad to see you.”, she looked down at the ground again, scared that Dean would see that she was on the edge of crying. Suddenly, two strong arms were wrapped around her, embracing her in a hug. She hesitantly hugged back, not sure if Dean was just messing with her.

“It’s okay now... We all survived... That’s the most important thing, right? All that aside, you were a pretty good partner otherwise.”, Dean’s voice was softer than usual, but she didn’t notice. His embrace felt nice, it was warm and safe. Soon, the female let him go and she smiled warmly.

“Haha... Sorry. It’s good to be partners again.”, she said, in the same moment, the motel door opened and the smell of food spread through the room. The two of them quickly stepped away from each other, a small blush forming on both of their cheeks.

“We’re back! Who wants to eat something?”

Sam looked up from his laptop, as (Y/n)s phone rang. He gave her a worried look and she returned it. The female quickly got up from her chair and answered the phone.

“Hey (Y/n)! Guess what! We found out where that thing is hiding!”, the cheerful voice of (S/n) brought a smile to the older sister's face and she signalled to Sam, that everything was fine.

“That’s great! Can you pick us up, so we can go there together?”, her voice remained calm, but on the inside (Y/n) was worried.

“Don’t worry! We can do this on our own. I’m with Dean, nothing will happen! We’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Wait! (S/n)! You’re going to-“

“Get hurt. I know, I know. C’mon, (Y/n). I’ll come back without a scratch, I promise. See ya later!”, before she could say anything else, her sister hung up. She let out a frustrated groan and sat back down on the bed.

“What’s wrong?”, Sam asked as he noticed his friends' worried expression.

“(S/n) and Dean decided to do this on their own... Sometimes I think that they want to die...”, she gave him an indignant laugh and then buried her face in her hands. “I think we’ll need some more bandages than usual...”

A faint knock was heard on the motel room door. (Y/n) got up, knowing it was Dean and her sister. She had already suspected that they would be in bad shape, but what she saw now was above any of her expectations. Dean had to support (S/n) by holding her waist and having one of her arms wrapped around his neck. Both of them were covered in blood. (Y/n) took a step back in surprise.

“Oh my god...”, Sam went to see what happened as he heard his friend's whispers. (Y/n) felt like she was paralysed, while her friend had to catch (S/n) as Dean released her. Sam brought the woman to a bed and laid her down. Finally, (Y/n) snapped out of her trance and helped Dean to the other bed.

“Sam? Where’s the medical kit?”, she asked, her voice failing to sound calm.

“(Y/n)... That won’t work. We have to get them to a hospital.”, at his words, the (h/c) head snapped up, terror etched onto her face.

“No! They’ll want to know what happened!”

“We don’t have any other options if we want them to survive!”

The younger Winchester sat in the driver's seat of (Y/n)s’ car, Dean in the passenger seat and (Y/n) and (S/n) were in the back.

“(Y/n)...?”, a faint whisper reached the older sister's ears and she looked down at her lap, where (S/n)s head was resting. She had opened her eyes. Her face showed all too well that she was in pain.

“Y-yes?”, (Y/n) leaned down, so she could understand her sister better, her tear-stained face almost touching her sisters.

“Am I... Am I dying?”, (S/n) asked and (Y/n) gasped at her question.

“No. Maybe you’re hurt right now, but you’re not dying. You won’t die today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon.”, the older sister tried to sound confident but failed once again.

“Haha... You know... Dean and you aren’t so different after all... You both care about your little siblings, you have a car that’s very important to you... I still can’t see why you love that old car so much... Hehe...”, her sister flinched in pain, “Can you promise me one... thing?” (Y/n) nodded, a few strands of hair falling onto her little sister's face.

“If I die... Don’t blame Dean for it... He didn’t do anything wrong. It was my fault, that we got so hurt...”

“Don’t say that. You won’t die. I promise.”, the female was on the edge of crying again. She started stroking her sisters’ hair softly and began humming a melody that their mother had hummed every time one of the sisters was sad.

“How is he doing?”, (y/n) entered the room Dean was in, Sam sitting next to his bed on a chair. The brunette Winchester looked up, a sad smile on his face.

“The doctors aren’t sure yet... But I think he’ll make it. What about (S/n)?”

“It’s... critical. They said, that there’s a possibility that she...”, (Y/n) faced the floor. Sam gently squeezed her shoulder, trying to reassure her. The female hunter heaved a heavy sigh and hugged the younger brother tightly.

“She’s all I have left... I don’t know what I would do without her...”, she whispered into his shirt, still loud enough for him to hear.

Suddenly, the door behind them opened and a doctor with long, blonde hair and hazelnut-brown eyes came in. Her face was filled with worry as she looked at the two, who had let go of each other by now and waited for her to say something.

“You must be Sam and (Y/n)... I suppose both of you should get informed about his condition...“, her gaze drifted over to Dean, who was lying in the hospital bed behind them, seemingly asleep. It stayed there for a few seconds, then she focused on her board again.

“I’m sorry... But his medical condition has worsened since the last checkup. The possibility that he will wake up is... rather low.”, (Y/n) covered her mouth with one of her hands and shook her head in disbelief as she heard these words leave the doctor's lips. That wasn’t true, was it? It couldn’t be. Not Dean too... (S/n) was already enough. She couldn’t do this anymore.

Without thinking she left Deans's room, not listening to Sam shouting after her. He caught up with the older (L/n) and grabbed her by the shoulder, turning her to face him.

“What are you doing, (Y/n)?”, he asked, concern written over his face. She didn’t look at him, her eyes were distant and glassy.

“I have to fix this...”, her voice was just above a whisper and before Sam could take in what she just said, she brushed his hand from her shoulder and stormed out of the hospital.

The hunter kneeled at the centre of a crossroad, digging around in the dirt. Once the hole was closed again, she closed her eyes and sighed. She brushed her hands clean on her pants as she stood up and took a few steps backwards. It was quiet. Of course it was quiet. It was 3 am and the older (L/n) was in the middle of nowhere, summoning a crossroad demon, you know...like a complete idiot.

Suddenly, (Y/n) heard a voice behind her: ”Oh my! So you came after all. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

The hunter turned her head around but saw nothing. Her gaze went around the area and suddenly a tall man with black hair and brown eyes that flashed red for a second stood before her. He took a step forward, (Y/n) took one backwards, keeping a safe space between them.

”Why so shy, sweetheart? I don't bite.”, a smirk formed on his lips and he winked. The hunter still said nothing, glaring daggers at him. ”Oh, come on, (Y/n). Just say something.”

”If I was a normal person, I would ask how you know my name... But we both know that I’m not normal.”

”Yeah... I've noticed that a few of my friends disappeared thanks to you and your sister... Oh! By the way... How’s (S/n)? Wait... You don't have to answer me. That's one of the reasons you're here, right, sweetheart?”

”One of the reasons?”, she gave him a questioning look, trying to hide her panic.

”Oh, sweetheart... You don't get it, do you? Two of the people that are dear to you are on the brink of death. Now it's time to decide...”

”I... What-”

”You know what? I’ll make your decision easier. I’ll save the person that you love and will love the most.”

(Y/n) hesitated. But what choice did she have? If she didn't do anything both Dean and (S/n) would die.

”How long will I get?”, she asked, trying to get a fair deal out of this. The demon hummed in thought and then started to smirk again.

”Since I feel generous today, I’ll give you a challenge instead of a time limit. You can't speak to anybody anymore. Not a word. And if you do... Well... We both know what'll happen then...”

”So... I’m not allowed to talk, ever?”, the hunter tried to confirm.

”Exactly. You may think that this will be easy... But you will see.”, he answered.

(Y/n) thought for a moment. Then she nodded.

”Alright. We have a deal. You save them and I’ll never talk again.”, her eyes were cold as the man walked closer.

”Okay then... Deal.”, with that, he pressed his lips onto hers. She tensed up, but still kissed back. It felt disgusting and as he tried to get to tongue into her mouth, she pushed him back. The demon chuckled and his eyes turned red again.

”Well then, (Y/n). I would hurry up if I were you... You should get back before someone dies...”, he winked at her and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

The gentle beeping of the heart monitor beside (S/n)s’ bed was the only sound of noise in the room as her older sister entered. She sat down on the bed and gripped her hand.

’It's gonna be okay... We're gonna be fine.’, she thought while tears started to pool in her eyes. ‘It’s gonna be worth it and when you wake up we’ll go visit dad...’

With blurred vision, (Y/n) looked up at the clock on the wall. After staring at it blankly for a few seconds, she could finally focus on the clock face. 4:30 am... Another night without any sleep. But if that meant she would get her little sister back, it was a minor inconvenience.

Relaxing a bit, the hunter leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment. The sound of the heart monitor made her drowsy but she didn't dare fall asleep.

Meanwhile, Sam was pacing up and down in Dean's room, not sure what to do. Should he go look for his friend? Did she come back already? But what if something happened to Dean while he was gone?

Suddenly, the younger Winchester heard people running, panicked shouting and a long-drawn-out sound from a room beside him. He took a moment to realize what was going on and where the sound was coming from but then he threw open the door and looked into the hallway of the hospital. He was right. The noises came from (S/n)s room. Sam sprinted over to the entrance and all he saw were doctors and nurses surrounding the hospital bed. As he took a few steps further he noticed a knocked-down chair lying next to the bed and a crying (Y/n) in the corner. Her hands were buried in her hair, pulling at it and she shook her head over and over again. The nurses were now trying to use a defibrillator to get her sister's heart going again. The next seconds seemed to last forever. The two hunters watched helplessly as one of the doctors finally said: ”That’s it... We can't help her anymore... Time of death: 4:38 am.”

That was when (Y/n) finally broke completely. She slid down the wall behind her and started sobbing. Sam went over to her and pulled her into a hug. He spoke softly to her, trying to calm her down but to no avail. Everything she had kept going for was gone now. It was her fault she died. It was her fault (S/n) had even become a hunter. She put her in so much danger and now both of them had to pay the price for it.

The only one she loved was gone...

At that thought, (Y/n)s heart physically stopped beating for a second. The demon said he’ll save the one she loved... And her sister was dead.

The hunter pushed Sam away from her and dashed to the room Dean was in. She was exhausted by now but didn’t care at the moment. The bright lights of the hospital and her blurred vision made the hallway seem like a dream scenery. Oh, how she wished this was a dream right now. Her eyes still teary and sore from crying, she carefully read the numbers to every room, trying to find Deans.

When she reached it, her hand shook violently as she pressed down the door handle and entered slowly. The (brunette, blonde, etc.)s heart was beating out of her chest. She wiped her eyes with her shirt to clear her vision a bit. Then she looked down at her hands, realising how bloody they actually were. The blood of her sister was on her hands... Not just metaphorically. Everything she did was to drag out the moments of not looking at the bed in front of her. (Y/n) didn’t want the confirmation that she messed up a deal with a demon. She didn’t want the confirmation that her sister was actually dead and Dean still alive.

A quiet groan snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up and spotted the one and only Dean Winchester, slowly sitting up in his hospital bed. The hunter balled her hands into fists. It was real. It was all real and over.

Hot, angry tears started to swell in her eyes once again. But she wasn’t angry at Dean because he hadn’t protected her sister enough. She also wasn’t angry at the crossroad demon because he tricked her. The hunter was mad at herself because she was the one responsible for her sister's safety. She had failed to be by her side when she needed it the most. She was angry at herself because she had been foolish enough to trust a goddamn demon and think he wouldn’t find a hole in the contract.

“...(Y/n)...?”, Dean's voice rang out to her. She turned her head away from him, she didn’t want him to know what had happened.

Suddenly, Sam rushed past her through the door. He gave Dean a bone-crushing hug and pressed the button to call a nurse. Two nurses soon came ushering into the room and made the younger Winchester step aside. (Y/n) used the commotion to escape. She couldn’t handle this any longer. The only one watching her go was the now surrounded Dean, who couldn’t even utter another word.

[sylvanfreckles]

Nice Day for a...Wait for It (3 of 5)

(For Alt. 13: Crutches)

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: G General Warning: chronic illness, internalized ableism, disability, violence

Summary: Sam and Eileen's wedding is just a few days away, and Dean and Castiel join them for some relaxation at the hotel before the ceremony. But Winchester Luck strikes again, and they find themselves at the center of disaster as secrets are uncovered. Cas has gotten stronger since the ritual that tore his grace away and left him human, but will it be enough when he's targeted by a malevolent spirit? (Read on AO3)

...

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

(Thus Spoke Zarathustra - Frederick Nietzsche)

...

Sam trailed Eileen into the antique store and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of knickknacks and furniture crammed into the tiny space. There was an entire wall of clocks, for one thing, and he vowed to be out before the top of the hour when they’d all start to chime.

“Oh, hello!” A gray-haired, matronly woman waved to them from the counter. “Good to see you back, my dear. Did you come for that little table?”

Eileen hooked an arm through Sam’s and pulled him forward. “Still talking him into it.”

Sam tried to smile, but the spirit that had attacked Dean and Cas the night before was weighing heavily on his mind. “I actually came to ask you about something else.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, by all means, ask away. You were right, he’s a cutie!” She added the last part in a loud stage whisper to Eileen, making her laugh and Sam fidget with embarrassment. “Now, what were you wanting?”

“Our friend, he was in here with my fiancée yesterday? He bought a Christmas ornament?”

“Yes, the darling man in the wheelchair. He was a cutie, too, you can’t keep them all to yourself, girl.”

Sam gave an awkward smile as the woman addressed Eileen again. “It’s just, it’s a lot like the ornaments my mother collected,” he interjected, pulling the woman’s focus back on him. “We lost them all in a house fire when I was a child, and I was hoping you might have a few more?”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” The woman shook her head. “No, that was the only one left. They were all from an estate sale about a month ago, I barely had them in the store before someone snatched the whole lot up. Well, except the one your friend bought. I didn’t find him until last week, and I was just thinking I should contact the other buyer to see if she wanted mister mushroom.”

“I see.” Sam feigned a disappointed expression and turned as if to leave the shop. “I don’t suppose…can you tell me who bought them? It’s just that it would be such a nice surprise for my mother.”

The woman hesitated, though only for a moment. “Oh, I just can’t say no to you. Don’t think it’d do any harm…it was Emily. Emily Townsend.”

“Townsend?” The name sounded familiar, but Sam couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes, she runs the River Oaks Hotel, down on second street. Always puts up a big Christmas display every year, right after Halloween. She bought every last ornament, except the one your friend found yesterday.”

Sam shared an alarmed look with Eileen, then thanked the woman and hurried out of the store to where Dean was waiting with the Impala.

…

This was ridiculous.

While the others had gone to interview the woman at the antique store, Castiel had been left at the hotel with strict instructions (from Dean) to stay in bed and wait for their return. Dean had left him with a salt ring around the bed, and a crowbar and sawed-off shotgun close at hand in case the spirit returned.

Which it wouldn’t. It had obviously been connected to the mushroom ornament, and they had destroyed all remnants of that as soon as Dean had been able to get out to his car for more supplies. Dean was just being overprotective, as usual.

Cas swung his legs over the edge of the bed and picked up his crutches, which had been leaning against the wall. He was doing no good sitting here when he could at least be exploring the hotel. Even though he was human now, there was still a chance he could pick up on things that the Winchesters missed. He slipped his phone in his pocket, the ringer left on silent, and limped his way out of the door into the hallway beyond.

It was late morning, so the hotel was fairly busy. He kept as close to the wall as he could, not wanting to get in the way of guests and staff, and picked his way in the opposite direction of the lobby.

The River Oaks Hotel was only two stories tall, with an elevator in the central corridor. Cas avoided the elevator and chose to follow the cross-corridor down to its end. There was an external door that led out to the parking lot, and doors for a conference room and business center.

He shuffled back when the business center door swung open, and one of the hotel staff came out with a garbage bag in her arms. “I think there’s more toner in the basement,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yuck.” Another staff member followed her, lugging a vacuum cleaner and caddy of supplies. “I hate going down there, it’s so creepy with all that crap Emily keeps buying.”

Cas watched them go, interested in their conversation. Sam and Dean hadn’t mentioned anything about the basement. He slowly followed the hotel staff toward the lobby, trying to look like he was just getting some exercise and not paying too much attention to them. Luckily, the crutches seemed to make him almost invisible to the people around him, for all he felt like he stood out more. Like people took one look at him and dismissed him as beneath their notice.

It was even worse in the wheelchair, but Dean didn’t understand that. He didn’t understand the feeling of countless eyes judging and weighing you and finding you lesser.

They went through a door marked for hotel staff only, and Castiel shuffled over to a display of tourist brochures where he could keep an eye on the door but not stand out too much. He didn’t have to wait long until they came out again, both pushing large housekeeping carts.

He waited until the hall was empty, then made his way through the door to the staff only area. Immediately, something felt wrong. The hair on his arms stood on end and a headache pricked at the edges of his eyes. The staff area was just a modest set of lockers on one side and a collection of housekeeping supplies on the other, with a passageway at the back leading to the hotel’s industrial washing machines.

There was an unmarked wooden door next to the washing machines, and when Cas pushed it open he found a set of uneven stairs leading down below the hotel. He could see a few rows of wire shelving piled high with storage containers, from sagging cardboard boxes to brightly colored plastic totes.

He stared down the stairs for a long moment. He could make it down them and explore the basement. Might even find the source of the haunting. But he was unprepared for such a task and, truth be told, his legs were starting to ache from walking up and down the hall. At least he had a lead now. He had proven himself useful in this case, despite his physical limitations.  

Cas started to turn to make his way out of the staff room when something grabbed at the bottom of his crutch and yanked it sideways, into the basement. He released it with a surprised grunt and clung to the doorknob for support, the other crutch clattering down after its mate. His skin was crawling now, and the pain in his head had spread down to his neck and shoulders.

His legs gave out, and he dropped to his hands and knees to crawl away from the basement door. Pressure was rising in his ears, like it had in the room last night. Suddenly, the overhead lights exploded, raining glass and sparks down in the darkened room. Cas curled up with his arms over his head for protection, only to feel something latch onto his foot and pull him toward the basement.

Scrabbling for a handhold, he managed to catch the rickety banister at the top of the staircase. It creaked and groaned under his weight as Castiel fought to pull himself up.

The wood gave with a snap, and he hurtled down the stairs into the silence of the basement, landing painfully on his side on a large crate. Pain flared up his side, his chest suddenly almost too tight to breathe. His entire body ached from numerous impacts, and he let himself slide to the floor with a moan of pain.

One of his crutches was nearby. Cas managed to push himself to one hand, though he nearly collapsed back down as his ribs protested the movement.

He crawled. Inch by painful inch. His fingers brushed the smooth aluminum, and he tugged the crutch closer. The basement was barely lit by a single overhead lamp, and he stared around the shadows until he located the other crutch closer to the stairs.

Cas let out a huff of exhaustion, though that tore at his chest and he had to stop moving until the pain receded a little.

It was then that he heard it. A deep, ominous creaking.

He looked up in time to see the wire shelves swaying back and forth, before an unseen force sent them crashing down on him.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5)

[lucascecil]

Something I read - War of the Daleks

This is going to be a bit different from the previous posts as 1. I haven't tweeted as I read as I did with The Bodysnatchers annd Genocide, so it's not something I have already written neither real time comments and 2. I have finished reading Alien Bodies already minutes before starting this "review". So let's do it.

I was positively surprised while reading because I heard so many bad things of War of the Daleks that I expected the worse. This book is not at all perfect, I don't know if I wouldn't even call it good really, but I had a decent time with it.

I want to talk about Sam first, because she is one of the downsides of this book. There is barely anything nice or cool or whatever told to us about her, instead she spends most of the pages being jealous as fuck of any woman she meets, focusing on her crush on the Doctor (which I don't like at all) and being a (not in a good way) weirdo.

At some point I was so irritated with Sam that I started saving the bits where she being jealous got in my nerves. I didn't do it for the whole book and still I got like 15 bookmarks. My favorite because of how fucking stupid it's is this one:

Three troopers, all male, entered the room. Like Ayaka, they seemed to be physically perfect. They were all blond and blue-eyed, like Hitler’s dream of an Aryan super-race. But these were real, not an ideal. And they all had weapons held ready.

Sam is not completely void of interesting traits in this book. She has been trying to map out the TARDIS but it seems an impossible task. The Daleks scare the Doctor, and anything that scares the Doctor scares her. She is not going to die screaming. There is a nice scene where she briefly takes control of the situation that shows she is coming around since she joined the TARDIS. Sam has become familiar with almost all kind of jails. But it's just not enough. For the most part Sam is a pricky teenager, annoying as hell, a huge hypocrite and all around not a nice person. She tries to tell the Doctor that they need to get the fuck out of this situation, which would be smart for most stories but this time it sounds mean spirited as if she is trying to get him away from other female characters. To prove my point:

The thought of the Doctor and Chayn together for a couple of hours, repairing stuff and getting friendly, was not particularly appealing. ‘Doctor,’ hissed Sam, ‘this isn’t our problem. A quick cup of tea, and goodbye, remember?’

And she is like that the whole book. I guess the author was trying to get Sam to be a flawed character but honestly it's just sound what it is: an adult man trying to write a teenager girl no matter he has no ideia how to do so. It's not the first book Sam is depicted as insecure, but when you compare how she is written here to, let's say, Vampire Science - it's ridiculous.

I want to comment on that Hitler paragraph because I saw it coming. In the start of the book it's mentioned and highlighted how "perfect" the Thals physically are, how they are the perfect human being while the text describes the whitest people ever and I was like - I know what you are trying to insinuate but you won't dare to say it like that. Then it did, and it's so absurd I can only laugh.

I get where I came from, okay? The Daleks are a nazi/facism metaphor and therefore the author is trying to set the Thals as an equivalent of the "ideal" germans that the nazi screwed over but it's so insensitive and so bad thought out I'm apalled. I just can't believe that was published.

But let's move on to another topic. I don't like the Thals. They do nothing for me in most stories they are a part of and honestly even in the ones were they are significative I never felt it obligatory needed to be an alien race that shared their planet with the Daleks. The Daleks work better as a concept isolated from them. They are fine, here. The writer tries to do something out of them - there a lot of scenes that are written to question their morality and ask if they are really any better than the Daleks. For example, when they wipe out a native population of a planet they were fighting on without remorse because they would be dead anyway - but at least they would die taking some Daleks with them:

‘Haven’t you looked behind us?’ she demanded. ‘There’s a native village there. And they don’t have hardened armour.’ ‘Then they’ll die,’ Delani said, unconcerned. ‘If the Daleks get past us, they’ll die anyway. This way will be quicker and a hell of a lot less painful for them. And it’ll give us a chance to live. Maybe you can avenge them.’ Ayaka didn’t know what to say. To deliberately order a strike that would kill civilian targets… She couldn’t think straight. All she could do was fire at the oncoming Daleks, blanking out her mind.

There is even one scene Eight tells a Thal general that the man had already become a Dalek himself.

Ayaka is perhaps the most interesting character in this book as she is the Thal who is there to question her own place in the military and ask if they are right and eventually reach the conclusion that the Thals themselves are becoming monters as she faces morally corrupt oficials and then ends the book promising to fight for a better world. It's nothing stellar and Doctor Who did it a million times before, but it's consistent.

Every Thal soldier must have one child before joining the fight. Probably with a partner they never met before and will not meet again. The mothers depart from their children as soon as they can - and the thought that they are fighting for their future have to be enough. Ayaka fights for her little girl.

One of my favorites scenes from the book is when Chayn, the only truly relevant character from the Quetzel, talks to Ayaka about it:

Chayn cut across her, her voice bleak. ‘My father was a soldier,’ she said. ‘He fought the Daleks, along with other races. He hired himself out to kill for money. I only saw him three times in my life. The last time, he was in a medlab, strapped to a bed, dying. His body had been shattered, but he wanted to tell me that he loved me before he died.’ Her voice became very quiet. ‘He did. And I couldn’t believe him. If he’d loved me, he’d have been with me, raising me.’ She glared at Ayaka. ‘I hate war, not because of what it does to my enemies, but because of what it does to those I love. It took my father away from me and killed him. But before it did that, it made him forget about everything that was important – really important – in life. He told me that he loved me, but by then he’d forgotten what love is.’ She swallowed. ‘I’ve heard it said that the first casualty of war is the truth. That’s not so. The first casualty in war is love.’ She looked into Ayaka’s eyes. ‘Perhaps your child will be able to forgive you for not being there for her. Perhaps she’ll even grow up thinking you’re some kind of a hero. She may even be right. But that doesn’t matter. Because war has already killed everything important inside of you. You’ve lost your love.’ She paused, waiting for that to sink in. Ayaka said nothing. ‘Your little girl isn’t a real person, with needs and hopes and fears. She’s simply a symbol of what you’re fighting for now, a sacrifice you’ve made. A part of you you’ve chopped off. Like your conscience. You know what Delani did was wrong, and yet you said nothing.’

There are some nice descriptions of Eight that I like, for example:

[...] Despite the dab of dirt on his nose, he still looked like some disenfranchised nineteenth-century poet – a naive soul out loose in the cold hard world, and struggling to make some sense out of it. His fine features, curled hair, and turn-of-the-century costume all contributed to the feeling, but it was the Doctor’s mannerisms themselves that made you realise there was a poetic heart – hearts! – and soul within the sensitive, attractive frame.

He says for him it's hard to recall some info after two or three regenerations. He tries to protect Sam when they first encounter a (dead) Dalek even though it would be an useless act. He mocks when they are found in the Quetzel that it's that time of the day when they are accused of commiting a crime and get in "jail" - it doesn't happen this time tho, for a change. If he sabotaged the ship, he would have done it more elegantly.

And, more interesting, the idea that it was his intereference over Thal story that made them into warriors, into the monsters he met, terrifies him. He is forced to face sins of the past even if the book doesn't use this idea to the fullest. It happens a second time, when Seven (not) destroying Skaro becomes a problem.

‘No,’ Ayaka answered. ‘But we are what we must be. And what we are, you created.’ ‘I?’ The Doctor frowned. ‘You were the one who taught us to fight, Doctor,’ Ayaka informed him. ‘What we have become is what you helped to make. If you dislike what you see, you have only yourself to blame.’

And:

‘The Daleks were coming back to life,’ he explained. ‘The Thals were simple farmers, looking for fresh sources of food. They had low levels of technology. The Daleks wanted to murder them, and they had stolen a vital piece of the TARDIS from me. I needed to get it back, but I couldn’t manage it alone. So I had to persuade the Thals to help me. I forced them to fight. I made them stop being pacifists.’ He thumped his chest bitterly. ‘I’m responsible for what they’ve now become. I’m responsible for Balatan’s death.’

There is also this moment when Davros says the Daleks were built without weaknesses, but the Doctor disagrees: without strenghts, without a future, without a hope. While I strongly dislike Sam characterisation in this book, Eighth was alright. Nice, even.

The actual Dalek plot is decent. It's an excuse in form of a book to retcon Remembrance, but while it could've been better I can also think of a lot ot ways I could have been worse. I even like the Dalek Emperor in this story as we actually see him making strategies. Even Davros going to trial so he can lure out non loyal Daleks and using the Doctor as a plan b if it goes wrong is nicely thought out. It works. Dalek Prime is even the only character besides Eight that don't understimates Davros even though he despises him. I am a bit tired of "Dalek factions fighting" stories but this one is good in that aspect.

Skaro is the Dalek word for home, which I didn't know. There is a page or two dedicated to explain what the different colors in the Daleks cases mean and it was nice because while I wondered about it before I never researched what they meant. There is also this cool chapter where this random character goes to a Dalek base to it can sabotage it and then he fights this huge marine monster native to Skato that's pretty cool.

He realised he was wrong. This was no creature native to Antalin. It was wide, about six feet across, and two thick at the centre. It swam by undulating its entire body, like a ray. Twin stalked eyes stared at him, malicious intelligence evident. A Slyther… This was a creature from the Daleks’ home world. They must have released one to patrol the sea about the platform. It would envelope its prey like a jellyfish, grabbing hold and then absorbing it through its membranes. It could pump stomach acids from the underside of its body to weaken its prey and partially digest it. Those acids would be able to penetrate his suit if it enveloped him.

There is also a bit that caught my attention: if I understood it right, the Second Doctor fought (in Power of the Daleks) the Dalek factory that Eight sent through the time vortex at the end? It didn't get on my nerves like the retcon fest of The Eight Doctors, I just thought it was random.

There is also a phrase when Sam reflects that she may be a bit desinsitize by death now which stuck for me because I have a lot to say about how that's a recurring theme for audio Eight and it was nice to see it here so I can fit it all in while talking about that topic.

So yep, the weakest book so far apart from The Eight Doctors but I was surprised that for the most part it was a decent read. ★★☆☆☆

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Partners in Crime | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This idea came from the increasingly ridiculous and lovely discord I'm a part of, and the silly banter between @sgt-seabass and I :)

If you like what you read, throw a reblog my way! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @dreamerglassesgirl @lonewolf471 @jamesbarnesjr @lipstickandbarbedwxre @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @mrsdrysdale18 💘

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

Bucky regretted this already.

You and Sam were in Sam’s car, scream-singing along to some song by a band Bucky had never heard of. The car shook as the two of you danced in your seats and the loud thumping of the bass vibrated in Bucky’s chest. Part of him wished he hadn’t told Sam that he had plans to go shopping with you. Before he’d even told Sam the plan for the day, Sam texted you to see if he could tag along- and of course you said yes. Sam was Bucky’s best friend, and you were undoubtedly the love of Bucky’s life, but you and Sam were something else.

It was like the two of you shared one mind- or one braincell.

You finished each other’s sentences, quoted the same movies over and over, and laughed maniacally when you were together, driving everyone in your general vicinity crazy. It had gotten so bad that you and Sam were officially barred from going on missions as a team. Rhodey said you and Sam engaged in “too many shenanigans” to be allowed to work together. Bucky loved that the two of you got along so well. His two favorite people being so close only strengthened his support system, but going shopping as a group of three was always a mess.

You and Sam could make anything into a ridiculous game or a silly inside joke, finding uproarious laughter in every moment. Every shopping trip consisted of you and Sam filling the cart with increasingly ridiculous shit until Bucky nearly lost his mind. There was an incident with a bulk box of extra-large condoms that almost got the three of you permanently kicked out of Costco. You and Sam would hide from one another, only to pop out and scare the shit out of each other. Bucky would often lose the two of you as you got distracted by feeling soft blankets and smelling every candle you could find. He’d sometimes find the two of you testing out every set of patio furniture that was for sale and ranking how comfy they were. He’d always sigh like an overworked parent, but he secretly loved the nonsense.

Sam rolled his window down and unleashed the sounds of TLC’s No Scrubs into the air. “Come on, Buck! Let’s go!” This was it- Bucky’s last chance to escape. He was faster than Sam and definitely faster than you. He could make a run for it and miss out on the chaos that was sure to ensue-but he really needed to go to Target. With a deep breath, he cracked his neck and prepared himself for the shenanigans

The car ride was loud and absurd, just as things always were when you and Sam were together. Bucky sat in the back, arms crossed over his chest while you and Sam named your top five Tom Hanks movies and your least favorite cooking shows. “Wilson! How could you SAY such a thing?” you turned to Bucky with an aghast expression, looking for back up. “Buck, did you hear this bird-brain? He said that Master Chef is better than Chopped…like a heathen”. Sam’s laugh boomed over the music, and he threatened to “turn this car around” if you didn’t agree with his wrong opinion.

When the three of you finally arrived at Target, Bucky grabbed a small basket, but Sam stopped him. “We’re gonna need a cart, Barnes”, Sam stated as though he were on a recon mission, “I need a lot of stuff”. He threw you a wink and motioned for you to follow him, but you hung back. Bucky already looked exasperated and the chaos hadn’t even begun. You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles, “I know Sam and I can be kind of a lot, Buck. I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t apologize. I love that you’re close. As long as neither of you get kicked out of the store, I’m perfectly happy”. He pressed a kiss to your nose and a slap to your ass as he told you to go catch up with Sam, your partner in crime. With a giggle, you landed a kiss on his cheek and skipped away to find Sam.

After raiding the snack aisles and filling the cart with other “necessities”, the three of you ended up in the coffee aisle. A quiet snicker caught Bucky’s attention and pulled his focus from coffee beans in his hand. He examined the contents of the cart and flicked his eyes up to meet yours.

“Um, doll…why is there a seventy dollar bird statue in the cart?” Sam struggled to contain his laughter and felt his chest tighten as his lungs burned for oxygen. With obnoxious confidence, you scoffed at Bucky. Your gaze landed on the bird, and you stroked its head a few times as though it were your pet, “we need it, Buck. I can’t live without this bird statue”. Bucky gave a small chuckle before landing his hands on his hips. He challenged you with the quirk of his brow, but you didn’t back down.

“Do you want me to die, Buck?” a feigned, hurt gasp left your lips as you clutched your chest like an actress from the golden age of Broadway. Bucky watched Sam’s shoulders shake with restrained laughter and rolled his eyes. He took your chin between his fingers and angled it upward, letting his lips almost brush yours. “Baby, I don���t think you need the bird statue. I think someone,” his eyes flicked to Sam, “likes messing with me”.

An incredulous scoff left your lips and you pushed Bucky’s hand away with dramatic flair, “I see how it is, you don’t love me any more…” Sam finally chimed in, elbowing Bucky in the ribs and giving him a sad head shake, “tough break man- a bird statue? Guess she likes me better than you”. Bucky couldn’t keep it together anymore. He returned Sam’s elbow with a playful shove, sending him into a shelf full of Folger’s.

“I’m just saying, Buck, I see where her true allegiance lies…”

“Wilson, she’s my wife-”

“But is there a wolf statue in the cart? Don’t think so, Barnes…”

You forced your body in between theirs with another dramatic flourish, “Boys, Boys! Don’t fight over little, ol’ me…although, Buck, Sam would probably let me get two bird statues, cause this one needs a friend…” Bucky gave up, declaring Sam the default winner. He narrowed his eyes at you and tried to force his amused smile away. He gave a deadpan response, sending both you and Sam into a howling fit of laughter, “I’m divorcing both of you.”

Without warning, your lips met his in a kiss full of giggles and love. He smiled into the kiss and shook his head at your antics, secretly adoring every second. “Fine”, you whispered as you pulled away, “more bird statues for us”.

[marvel-trash-bin]

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

~

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

~

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[duuhrayliegh]

two-way street

pairing: bucky x reader (College AU)

warnings: language, some smutty stuff in the middle, bucky’s kind of a jerk, but it’s got a fluffy ending, i think that’s it

a/n: hey loves, i’m hoooome! excuse my absence, i just started in person classes and they are kicking my ass. so sorry, but here i am, back to serve you as you would like me to :)

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my other writing on my m.list

You were fucking exhausted. This was your second semester of your junior year. Thankfully, you had kept to yourself. No one else from your town had come to your school because it was halfway across the fucking country. Hence the basis of it’s appeal to you. You have made like one or two friends on campus since your first year? One of them being your roommate, Wanda and the other a girl from your anatomy class, Natasha. She was eerily good at that class, like almost too good. However, it meant that you had a free tutor.

You pushed open the door of the on campus coffee shop, looking around for the two women. They had texted you during your British Literature class to meet them, which you were so grateful for. You lifted to your toes, peering over the heads in the cafe, searching for your group. When you found them, they were situated comfortably in the corner booth. You clutched your backpack strap, pushing your way through the crowded floor. After plopping yourself in the seat beside Wanda, you huffed out a frustrated breath.

“You’ll never guess what this bitch did today.” Natasha and Wanda shared a look, ready to hear your rant. “A group project. And we don’t get to pick our partners, he’s doing it for us! Can you fucking believe that shit?”

“Yeah, a professor assigning you a project with a designated partner. Tragic, really.” Wanda’s thick accent made the remark sound all the more unapologetic as she laughed when she finished. Your jaw dropped as they giggled at your expense.

“Girl, you’ve gotta admit, it seems a bit ridiculous that you’re this bent outta shape about this.” Natasha took a sip of her latte, eyes darting over your figure one more time. “So, what’s really the issue?”

“My partner.” Your jaw clenched at the mention of the whole situation. “It’s Sam.” Natasha made a face at your reaction.

“Sam Wilson?” You nodded at her. “He’s a sweetheart. What’s your deal with him?” Your shoulders sank in defeat.

“Ugh, it’s not him so much as his best friend.” Wanda made a noise.

“Oh! This is about Bucky?” Wanda snickered into her cup. “You got a crush on him or something?” Your eyes widened at her insinuation.

“Absolutely not! I don’t know why you’d ever suggest that.” You sighed heavily. “I just can’t stand the man. He’s so fucking annoying. We had the same classes for English and for Philosophy and he wouldn’t just shut the fuck up.” You pulled your water bottle from your bag, taking a swig of the clear liquid. “Seriously, I don’t know how I passed those classes. The only time the professors were actually able to teach was when he was either absent or hungover.” Wanda laughed at your comment. Natasha sat across from you shaking her head before settling back against the cushion of her chair.

“Sounds like somebody’s got a crush.” Your head whipped to her, your jaw dropped displaying an aghast expression.

“Abso-FUCKING-lutely not, woman.” Wanda giggled again while she nodded in agreement toward Nat.

“She’s right. This is a classic enemies-to-lovers situation.” Natasha wore a smug smile, nodding behind the rim of her coffee cup.

“I’ve read this book a million times, babes.” Your mouth was still gaping, trying to process what they were saying.

“There’s no fucking way. It’s impossible.” The bell hanging above the door shook as it swung open. A tall figure waltzed through the doorway, his head turning as he scanned the room, searching for one familiar face. Sam’s large hand raised as his eyes met yours, walking over to the table you occupied.

“Hey, Y/N. I figured we could hammer out the times that we’re going to work on our project together.” You watched as Sam pulled a chair from the neighboring table to join your band of merry women. “Hey, Nat, Wanda.” Sam addressed the other members of the table, receiving a small pair of small ‘hi’ back.

“Yeah, totally. When are you free?” You pulled out your phone, opening the calendar app to check your work schedule.

“Well it isn’t due until the week after next, so do you want to start working on it next Tuesday?” You nodded, putting the information in your phone. “Say, like noon? We can use my apartment, it’s a bit off campus but we won’t run the risk of being interrupted like we would at the library.” You looked up at him, eyes squinting with curiosity.

“Your roommates won’t mind?” Sam shook his head, making a face at your question.

“Nah, they won’t even be there. Steve’ll be at football practice and Buck will most likely be at the garage.” He leaned over your shoulder, watching as you typed on your phone. “You work at the bookstore downtown?” Your brows raised, matching the man next to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been working there since,” Your forehead wrinkled, thinking back to when you were first hired on. “Since about second semester freshman year?”

“Cool, cool, that’s about a block away from our apartment. I didn’t know you worked there.” He made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Alright, well next Tuesday at noon?” Sam nodded, getting up to push the stolen chair back to its original table.

“I’ll see you in class, Y/N. Later, ladies.” He winked at the three of you before leaving the coffeehouse. You turned back to the other two women, watching as a blush was spreading across the typically lowkey Natasha’s cheeks.

“Whoa, whoa. What was that, Romanov?” A slow smile spread across your features, Wanda biting her lip to keep in her giggles.

“Not a damn thing.” She hid herself behind the coffee cup in her hands, taking a large sip to not answer any more questions. “Are you guys going to the football game tomorrow night?”

“Nice segway, Red.” Wanda gripped the strap of her backpack that hung on her chair, hauling the bag to her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m down, but only if we all go.” The pair of them looked at you, waiting for you to respond.

“Ugh, guys I have to go to work early that day, I’ll be doing inventory for the whole shift.” Natasha’s hand raised, fingers opening and closing as a sock puppet, mimicking your excuses.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The game isn’t until later that night, you can still come right?” Your shoulders dropped, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll go to the stupid game. But I’m going to bug the shit out of y’all because I don’t understand what’s going on.” Natasha waved you off as Wanda began to leave, pausing briefly to tell the both of you goodbye. You eventually left yourself, gathering your bag and beginning the trek downtown. The school you went to was in a relatively small part of the city, making everything within walking distance. You gripped the straps of your bag, taking a swig of your water before opening the door to your job.

“Hey, Lissa.” You called out to your boss, who was set up behind the counter. The blonde smiled at you, waving you over to the computer.

“Hello, Y/N.” She pointed at the monitor, her wrinkled finger shaking slightly in her old age. “I know you’ve shown me before, but how do I get to the--” Your hand came up to the screen pointing at the correct icon that she was looking for. “Oh, yes. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.” You smiled at her, dropping your bag on the desk in the office.

“You ran this business for many, many years before I got here. I just help out every now and then.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes at your comment.

“That’s not true and you know it, you’ve brought us into the twenty-first century up here.” You grabbed your nametag from the magnetic board by the office door. You peeled your shirt away from your skin, pinning the tag to your outfit. “Oh, also, my grandson is going to be starting here next week. He’s worked here before, but it’s been years.”

“Oh alright, do you want me to train him whenever he comes in?” You hopped up on the counter, sitting next to Lissa, who was leaning against the countertop.

“If you don’t mind. He’s the nicest little thing you just ever laid your eyes on, too.” You nodded, picking absentmindedly at one of the rips in your jeans. “Somethin’ wrong, sugar?”

“No, not at all, Liss. Just got a lot on my mind school-wise, ya know?” She hummed next to you, rubbing your shoulder supportively.

“If you need extra time off, just let me know. It’ll be easier to cover now that we’re getting a second hire.” You nodded at her, the information going in one ear and out the other. You weren’t going to ask off, you needed the money. Your grades weren’t suffering so you weren’t about to jeopardize the one thing that was keeping you afloat here.

Your attention shot to the back corridor of the store, the sound of a stack of books falling over calling for you. You pushed off the counter, making your way to the overturned bundle. Dropping down to your knees, you balanced the bunch on your thighs.

“Shit. I mean, I’m not gonna say no, but at least take me out for a drink first.” Your head tilted upwards, meeting the intriguing face of one Bucky Barnes.

“James.” You shuffled the books into your grip, standing to your full height. A sad attempt at being intimidating, seeing as how you were still several inches short of meeting his eyes full on.

“Hello, Mary.” His eyes ran down your figure, not making a move to offer to help you at all.

“That’s not my name, James, and you know that.” Your brow raised, hands shifting to place the books back in their rightful place. You shoved past him, your shoulder digging into his bicep. He didn’t move but the action made you feel better. He annoyed you beyond imagination.

“Oh but doll, Mary suits ya better.” Bucky’s teeth caught his bottom lip, dragging the plump skin inward. The drag was enticing and it drew your eyes to the lower half of his face. “See somethin’ interestin’?” Your gaze snapped back up to his, jaw ticking in frustration.

“Not particularly.” You turned away from him, refocusing on your job. You felt him following you through the aisles of the store. The scent of the bookstore usually kept you calm, but your whole body remained on edge. “Is there something I can help you find today, James?” When you turned back to face him, he was much closer than you thought he was. He dipped his head down to level with you. You felt him take a deep breath, breathing in your honey vanilla perfume.

“Mmm, I don’t really know if you can help me or not. I’m lookin’ for somethin’ real specific.” He leaned forward, his left arm coming up to rest on the shelf just above your head. Bucky dropped his head again, only to feel your hand press against his chest, pushing him away from you.

“I know where everything is in the store, what are you looking for?” His head tilted, both brows raising.

“I’m looking for your books on sexual intercourse.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk as you shifted uncomfortably, eyes directing to the ground. “I know you don’t have a lot of experience in that department, but you should at least know where the books are, right?” His tone was condescending, seeping into every fiber of your being, you only hoped that he couldn’t see how much of a rise he was getting out of you.

“Looking to brush up on your skills? You know, they say you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.” You pushed your way around him, leading him to the far corner of the store. Lissa didn’t like to leave the openly sexual reads in the obvious eyeline. You couldn’t understand it, you tried to get her to change it for years. She kept them securely hidden in the upstairs loft portion of the store. You kept walking, ignoring the man behind you, leading him up the spiral staircase.

“Tryin’ to get me alone, doll?” He quipped as you pointed to the loft area, your brows raised as he just stood there.

“The items you are looking for can be found up there.” You dropped your arm to your side, turning quickly to escape the close proximity with the tall man. You felt his hand wrap around your bicep to stop you from leaving, making you face him again. “Anything else, sir?”

“Aren’t you going to lead me directly to the books?” The corner of his mouth lifted again, knowing that you couldn’t really say no.

“I’ve already told you where you can find them. You go up these stairs--” Your sentence was stunted abruptly when he began speaking over you.

“You know, I really would prefer it if you would show me where I can find what I’m looking for.” He raised his voice, loud enough that Lissa could hear him at the front of the store.

“She would love to!” Lissa’s voice sounded small, showing just how far away from comfort you were. “Right, Y/N?” Your jaw clenched and Bucky watched in amusement as the muscle twitched. Your neck relaxed slightly, allowing your eyes to drift to the ceiling offering a silent prayer to stay sane while in the presence of this fucking man. Soon after, your gaze locked with Bucky’s smug one.

“You’re absolutely right, Liss! Holler if you need me!” Bucky swept his hand in front of himself, gesturing for you to lead the way up the staircase. When you didn’t make a move to start up the stairs, Bucky huffed taking the lead. There’s no way you were giving him more of a reason to stare at your ass. Eventually you reached the landing, hanging a right just past the first bookcase, then pointing at the shelves in the back. “They’re back there.” You turned to walk away but were stopped yet again, this time by Bucky clearing his throat. “Oh my god, what?”

“A bit touchy are we, Mary?” He brought his finger up to his lips, rubbing the bottom of the pair. “Oh, but that’s not it, right?” His eyes ran over your figure slowly, it was taking everything in you to not throttle the man. He turned back to the shelf, looking for a few seconds before walking away empty-handed.

“Are you not even going to buy anything?” Not that it surprised you, it seemed his whole purpose in life was to make yours harder. He rushed you, causing you to back yourself into the shelves behind you. Your chest heaved, unsure of what he was going to do. Bucky had never liked you, but he wouldn’t hurt you, right? He smirked at your reaction, watching your chest as it bounced. He leaned forward again, close enough that you could smell the cologne he wore, the deeply subtle hints of rose lining the stronger scent of amber wafting into your nose.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew where they were. From what I hear, you’re the one who needs to learn some new tricks.” Every bit of fear that littered your body washed away the second he opened his big mouth. A tsunami of anger replacing the previous feelings. You flinched as Bucky reduced the distance between your noses. Then, his head dipped, running his nose over the column of your neck, inhaling deeply. Shivers ran down your spine as he carved out a path to your jaw, and involuntarily your head tilted, allowing him more access. Just as your eyes were about to slide shut in ecstasy, he retreated.

The extra body heat radiating off of him disappeared, a wave of cold air causing goosebumps to rise on your exposed flesh. You stood stock still for a few minutes after he left, unsure of what just happened. As you made the trek down the spiral staircase, you heard Natasha's knowing voice taunt you.

“I do not have any interest in that man.” By the time you got back to the counter, Lissa had decided that the both of you were going to start on inventory.

“Aren’t we getting a shipment tomorrow? Why don’t we wait for that?” Lissa waved your comment off, dismissing the subject.

“Ah, I’m closing early tomorrow. I figure we can do the inventory we have now and then I can handle the rest of it while you’re at class. That way you’ll be able to go to the game.” Her brows raised at you and you immediately knew that Natasha and Wanda had been meddling. “You never get out anymore, it’s time you have some fun. That is the college experience after all.” You pulled a face at her comment.

“But, Liss, are you sure you can handle all of it by yourself?” Her brows drew low, casting a shadow over her face as she stared at you.

“Weren’t you the one telling me that I ran this store ‘many, many years before you came along’?” You pucker your lips, backing yourself into a corner.

“Mm, I hate it when you’re right.” Lissa laughed once loudly, pointing at you with a pen.

“Have fun, you’re in your twenties! What else are you going to do?” The rest of the day went by fairly uneventfully. Unfortunately, that meant your mind had plenty of time to drift back to your interaction with Bucky.

He had never given you any reason to believe what Natasha and Wanda were implying. You had no reason to like him. Sure, he was conventionally attractive. His cologne was fairly intoxicating. His voice wasn’t all that bad, and let’s be honest, those arms? Oh shit.

*****

“We still on for tonight?” Wanda bounced next to you, her books clutched to her chest as her head tilted toward you.

“Of course we’re still on. She doesn’t have a choice.” Natasha appeared on your other side, making you jump back into Wanda. The redhead beside you smirked at your reaction.

“Ya know, just because you’re good at being stealthy, doesn’t mean you should scare the absolute shit out of me every chance you get.” You snarked the comment at her, while she beamed.

“Nevermind that,” Wanda’s arm laced with yours, bringing you into her peppy step. “You are coming right?” You really wanted to say no. Football makes no sense to you, tailgating had never been any fun for you, so you didn’t get the appeal. Wanda, on the other hand, was all for the whole shindig. Her and Natasha were in the same sorority, well used to be. Natasha was disavowed from the sisterhood because of lewd social media postings. Don’t bring it up though, especially when Natasha is drunk, she likes to go on tangents about it.

“Yes, I’m coming, Wan.” You drew out the a of her name, mimicking the way you would whine to your mother. The whole group stopped at one of the picnic tables on campus, dropping the weight of your bags to the grid surface. “Which one of you called Lissa yesterday about me going to the game?” Two confused expressions settled on the faces before you, making your brows raise.

“Uh, not me.” You pushed Natasha’s shoulder, a dumb smile on your face while the other two shook their heads.

“No, neither of us called Liss. Why do you ask?” That dumb smile slide off your face in exchange for a matching expression with Natasha and Wanda.

“Lissa, she said something about me getting the college experience. She had us do inventory last night instead of this afternoon because she wanted me to go to the game. I never told her about it, so I assumed one of you did.”

“Was this before or after you realized that Bucky was in the store?” Your mouth opened to formulate a response when you were interrupted by a male voice.

“Hello, ladies.” Your head turned to see Wanda being held by none other than her loving boyfriend. Vision’s hair blocked your view of Wanda’s smiling face, but you could hear her laughter. He pulled away from her neck, taking a seat. His body was closely followed by Sam, who settled nicely into the seat next to Natasha. You had to bite your lips to contain your giggles as a blush crawled it’s way up Natasha’s neck.

“Hey, guys.” He leaned closer to Nat, bumping her shoulder with his, pulling a smile from her lips. “Y’all going to the game tonight?”

“Of course, we’re going! Aren’t we?” Her accent made the simple phrase sound elegant. Wanda’s head tilted to the side as she waited on you to answer.

“Yeah, we’re going.” You rolled your eyes, then watched as Wanda’s eyes floated to something behind you. You didn’t have time to turn around before you figured out what, who, it was.

“Aw, she’s gotta go. I need my Mary charm.” Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist, dragging your body into his side. Your back stiffened as you thought, why me? You pushed against his ribcage, trying to put distance between the two of you. Thankfully, Bucky released his grip on your side, allowing you to scoot away from him. Bucky greeted the group before starting a whole other conversation.

“Are we witnessing the start of something here?” Natasha’s finger waggled back and forth at the pair of you. Your eyes narrowed while your jaw clenched.

“Are we?” You repeated her motion, quickly making her shut up. “And no, you aren’t. This asshole just won’t leave me alone.” You pushed yourself away from him again, only to feel him get closer to you.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Mary.” Bucky tilted his head at you, his hair drifting to one side. “You never know what’ll happen if you ask nicely.” A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth before licking his lips.

“Fuck off, James.” You opened your English textbook as the group continued laughing and talking. You were looking back and forth between the pages of your textbook and your notes, trying to organize your thoughts. Old English was so unnecessary and completely frustrating. Who talks like that? Did they talk like that out loud? Or was this an only on paper thing, like text lingo?

Your thoughts immediately became scrambled when you felt a warmth encase your thigh. You glanced down to see Bucky’s large hand wrap around the upper half of your thigh. You took your left hand and gripped his wrist, shooting him a look. Bucky hadn’t broken his conversation with Wanda and Vision. Your nostrils flared in anger and annoyance, who the hell did he think he was? After trying, and failing, to get his grip off of your leg, you went back to your notes after determining that he wasn’t going to be a problem. Well, more of a problem than he already is.

About ten minutes later, his fingers began flexing. Squeezing until his fingers made little indentions in the flesh of your thigh. You swallowed audibly, rolling your shoulders and deciding that he wasn’t going to win. Do not react. Everything was going fine.

Everything was not fine. Bucky’s hand moved further up. So far up that his pinky was resting under the fabric of your shorts. He still gave no indication to anyone else at the table what he was doing. To a stranger, it was just a boyfriend and girlfriend’s little version of intimacy. To you, it was a violation, he pushed his limits to their breaking point. Searching for the line to cross that would make you react. Instead, you gripped his wrist again, this time moving it back off your thigh.

A small sigh of relief was short lived when not even five minutes later, his hand was back. The same pattern, resting, indentions, searching. You jammed your finger into his side, as he placed his pinky back under the denim of your shorts. He began moving his little finger back and forth, rubbing beneath the rip of your shorts. You pushed him again, darting your eyes to the group around you, blissfully unaware of Bucky’s actions. You watched as Bucky’s other hand swung between the other members at the table, initiating some debate between the four of them.

“Is that little pussy dripping, yet?” His breath was hot against your neck, making your hair stand on end. Bucky never stopped the motion of his fingers. You listened as he sucked on his teeth, the noise jarring right next to your ear. “Is it arousing? Being touched like this in front of them, without them knowing?” Your jaw clenched, your gaze ran around the group before dropping to your lap. Your hand wrapped around Bucky’s wrist yet again, a weak attempt to stop his ministrations.

“Nobody’s ever taken care of you like this, have they?” You could hear the smug grin in his voice, but you were becoming too engrossed in his movements to care. His hand shifted up higher, letting the palm of his hand rest where both of your thighs met. Bucky slotted his fingers under the denim, relishing in the heat that your core was giving off. He tightened his hold, stretching his digits out afterwards, just barely grazing the drenched fabric underneath.

“James, what are you doing?” It took everything in you to question him. It felt so good, letting him run his knuckles over the smooth fabric of your underwear. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to concentrate. Your hand never left his wrist, just followed limply as he moved.

“C’mon, doll. Ya know that feels good,” so good, “lettin’ me touch ya like this?” Dominance radiated from Bucky’s voice as he twisted his hand in between your legs. Your thighs fell apart easily, knees weak when he cupped your sex. “Oh, you’re dripping, Mary.” Something in you clicked at his words while you felt his fingers trace your lower lips through your underwear.

You abruptly stood, legs shaking from the stimulation you ripped yourself from. Bucky raised his hands in surrender, the rest of the group observing the interaction with curious eyes. You swallowed harshly, shoving your books into your bag then quickly retreating from the group. As you got away, you could picture Bucky’s smirk in your head as he spoke. You could still smell his cologne, still feel his fingers on your skin. What really shocked you was that even though you were mad on the surface, you couldn’t get past the overwhelming feeling that you got when he touched you. What the absolute fuck.

It wasn’t long before Natasha and Wanda found you again. Secluded in the back of the bookstore, restocking the shelves. You heard the two of them approach before they announced themselves. The ambience of the bookstore being interrupted by two unstoppable forces that you called your friends. Natasha leaned against one of the cases, arms over her chest, expectant look on her face. Wanda hovered next to her, eyes drifting around the store.

“You ready for us to kidnap you?” You turned to her with your hands full. You lifted the stack you held, shrugging your shoulders.

“Sorry, Liss ended up not getting the restocking done. Turns out I can’t go.” You flipped back around before she could question you directly, not wanting to face her wrath head-on.

“Lies!” Lissa came around the corner, wrapping her arms around Wanda’s waist to pull her into her side. “This is just extra that we didn’t even have to do.” She released Wanda, sweeping her hands in front of you, shooing you out of the store. “Go! Go have your fun!” Lissa had effectively pushed you out of the front door, tossing your bag at you, hitting you in the stomach upon impact. You groaned as Lissa flipped the lock, waving at you through the clear glass.

You turned to face Natasha and Wanda yet again. Wanda squealed, linking her arm with you and Nat on either side. She pulled the both of you to the apartment, rushing into your closet as quickly as she could. The both of them sifted through your clothes hung in the walk-in, picking out random items and then dismissing them just as quickly. You plopped on your bed, the duvet fluffing out around the added weight of your body. Natasha came just as quick as you settled down, pulling you back to a standing position, mumbling something about needing a model.

“I really don’t feel that great, guys. Maybe I should just stay home.” Natasha offered you a scrunched brow in return, her lips puckering in disbelief.

“I call bullshit.” Your jaw dropped at Wanda’s voice, not expecting it from her. “You already said you’d go, no backing out now.” She looked back at the clothing items in her hands, tossing them on your bed. Her long finger pointed at the clothes, “Now change into those, and we can go.” You had only ever experienced Wanda like this twice: once when she was first rushing her sorority, and once when she was psyching herself up for her first date with Vision. You knew there was no getting out of it now.

So, you pulled on the shirt and skirt that Wanda picked. The white shirt stopped at your waist, showing the detailed pockets of the skirt she threw at you. You looked in the mirror, angry that Wanda had such good style. You were supposed to be mad at her for making you go to this stupid game. You rolled your eyes again, huffing as you grabbed your phone, shoving in your back pocket.

“Are we going?” You held your hands out to your sides, palms facing the pair before you. Natasha spun her finger signalling you to give them a twirl. Your shoulders sank as Wanda and Natasha smiled wide, “You done torturing me?” Wanda made a tsk sound with her mouth, grabbing your hand and excitedly leading you out of the apartment.

If you were being honest, you were the tiniest bit excited to go to the game. You always listened to Natasha and Wanda tell you about how much fun they had and you wanted to be a part of that. Really the fun part came after the game, the after party. That was one thing that you had never been invited to, but now that you were accompanying Natasha and Wanda, you had an automatic in.

It was quite overwhelming, the royal purple and white pom-pom that was shoved in your hand at the gate, the bottom of the student section led by a group of body-painted man-children. The band was to your right, blasting show tunes to keep the crowd energized, coupled with the routines that the cheerleaders were performing on the sidelines. The game seemed to drag on for what felt like ever, but it was an enjoyable experience. You were glad that you went. Were your eardrums busted because of how loud Wanda was cheering next to you? Probably, but that’s all part of the college adventure.

You could feel a headache emerging at the base of your skull, a pressure spreading to your temples. Clambering into the backseat of Wanda’s four-door sedan, you watched the streets pass by too quickly for you to memorize. You leaned forward, hands resting on the sides of the front seats, to speak to the pair in front.

“Dibs on being the designated driver tonight.” Natasha’s head whipped to face you with narrowed eyes, confusion lacing her features.

“Nobody volunteers to be the designated driver, especially people who haven’t ever been to an after party before.” Your shoulders raised offering her a non-committal answer before leaning back on the leather seats behind you.

“Just because I’m going to the after party doesn’t mean I don’t have work tomorrow.” Wanda smirked at you in the rearview.

“I have work tomorrow, I just know that I can handle my alcohol.” Natasha snickered under her breath at Wanda’s slight dig at you.

“That was one time!” Wanda laughed, waving off your excuses as she pulled into a parking spot near the two-story colonial. The long haired woman threw her hands above her head, swaying her arms as if she was a hippie at Woodstock. Natasha wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing you to her side.

“Look, you’re going to have a good time tonight. If you don’t want to drink for that, fine, but Wan is probably going to end up with Vis, and I’ll fingers-crossed be bunking with Sam.” She shot you a wink as she pulled you through the doors, her eyes scanned the party as a few of the members stopped their conversations to glance over the new arrivals. You shifted under their gazes, not liking the implications behind some of them. “All-in-all, I don’t think we’re going to be needing a designated driver, not tonight at least.” Her arm left your side as she led you through the throngs of people to the kitchen.

A large metal tub sat on the granite countertop filled to the brim with chunks of ice, that was littered with different cans and beer bottles. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of the beer, Natasha held a red cup out to you as an offer, to which you shook your head, opting for the safer option of a ginger ale. You watched as Natasha downed the contents of the solo cup before taking several different bottles and mixing her perfect alcoholic concoction. She gave no reaction as she sipped the drink in her cup, she jerked her head to the side, gesturing for you to follow her.

“Hey, guys. I wondered where you were.” Wanda was snuggled against Vision’s side, a fluffy blanket wrapped over their shoulders, shielding them from the slight chill that the breeze carried.

“I needed a drink.” Natasha quipped as she sat next to a comfortable Sam, crossing one leg over the other, leaning forward on her elbows. There was a fire pit in the middle of the four couches that the couples had settled on. The white cushions offer your feet a break from the less than great support that your sneakers were giving you. You sat on one of the empty couches, suddenly joined by the lithe Steve. Your brows furrowed at his choice of seating, there was a whole other couch that was empty. Deciding not to question it anymore, you joined back in the conversation with the group.

“Well, how was your first game, Y/N?” Sam shifted the conversation to you, making the eyes shift with it. Your cheeks grew rosy, a tight smile on your lips.

“It was good. Very energetic.” You shook your closed fist in front of your face, mimicking the cheerleaders from the earlier game. Natasha could tell you were uncomfortable with all the attention on you, so she nudged Sam’s side to change the subject again. Your shoulders slumped forward, leaning to the fire to soak up the heat.

“I didn’t know that was your first game.” Steve spoke low next to you, so only you could hear him. Your eyes met his kind pair, the bit of green in the flickering in the light of the fire. “So be honest,” He leaned forward again, making you back away slightly. “You didn’t understand a bit of it, did you?” Your lips rolled inward, stifling a laugh. Your hand came up to your face, rubbing your eye before you looked at him again.

“Was it that obvious?” Steve shrugged, tilting his head to yours.

“Nah, you hide it well.” You could tell he was lying for your benefit, but it was a nice sentiment. “Plus, unless you were raised around football, it’s difficult to pick up later in life.”

“I got that we won.” You smiled big at him, making him laugh loud which was quickly interrupted by Bucky’s interjecting voice.

“What’s so funny?” He took a seat across from you, a blonde woman hanging off his arm. Your jaw twitched at the sight of her caressing his bicep. Steve started explaining the joke to Bucky as you began glaring at the woman across the fire from you. You watched as she leaned over to Bucky’s ear, biting his lobe softly, trying to entice him into something else. Your eyes met Bucky’s briefly, dropping to the floor immediately afterwards, slightly embarrassed to have been caught.

“Y/N.” He greeted you with a smirk, leaning back into the woman next to him. You rolled your eyes, not meeting his gaze.

“James.” The blonde beside him perked at your voice.

“James?” She purred loud enough for the group to hear. “I thought your name was Bucky.” Steve shifted in his seat, not looking directly at the girl across from him.

“Bucky is a nickname I gave him back in, like, middle school or something.” Steve clasped his hands in his lap, wringing them.

“It’s short for Buchanan, that’s my middle name.” Bucky finished Steve’s explanation for him locking eyes with you afterwards. “James is my first name, but I don’t like it when people use it, so everyone calls me Bucky.” The blonde leaned closer to his ear, licking a stripe up his neck before stage whispering.

“What if I used it when you’re pounding into me?” Bucky’s nostrils flared at the idea, his head tilting to look at her in the face. He cracked the bones in his neck, then leveling his gaze with yours.

“Yeah, I’d probably like it, then.” Bucky was trying his hardest to make you uncomfortable, and he was succeeding. “Oh, I’m sorry, guys. Everybody, this is Sharon.” The group said a collective hi to the new addition.

“I’m his girlfriend.” Her eyes snapped to you, forceful and mean. A smug tilt of her head toward Bucky started her next sentence. “Isn’t that right, James?” She purred again, her voice a sickly kind of sweet. Bucky made a face, answering right away.

“No?” Sharon’s face dropped as the surrounding group stifled giggles. Your hand came up to your mouth to stop it from gaping open. Natasha laughed out loud beside Sam, hiccuping occasionally.

“James!” Sharon’s voice turned shrill and whiny, a complete 180 from what it was just ten seconds ago. Her eyes ran over the group, settling on you with narrowed slits. “What, like, the Virgin Mary is going to put out?” You swallowed harshly, nobody except James had ever called you that. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as there was a full five seconds before anyone said anything. Processing the newly learned information.

“Whoa! Hey, now!” “What the fuck?” “Too fuckin’ far, bitch!” The last thing you heard was Natasha slurred the phrase before rushing out of the group. You shoved your way through the crowd, trying to remove yourself as far from that situation as you could. By the time you reached the front door of the frat house, tears were spilling over your waterline, tracking their way down your face. You leaned against one of the excessive columns lining the front walkway of the house.

“Oh, Y/N.” Wanda emerged from the doorway of the home, wrapping you in a warm embrace as you cried into her shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, hon.” Her tone was motherly, but that was definitely not what you needed to hear at the moment. You pushed away from her, holding your hand out for her keys.

“Aren’t you staying here?” Wanda nodded, holding one finger up, telling you her purse was in Vision’s room. You turned back around, your back pushed against the ridges of the column. You heard the hinges of the door squeak, even over the pumping bass of the speakers in the living room. “That was quick, but thanks for--” Your eyes met Bucky’s figure making your jaw clench. “Oh. What do you want?”

“I, uh,” Bucky’s speech was broken, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. Sharon should have never said that.” You narrowed your eyes, scanning his body. His shoulders were hunched, hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. A stark contradiction of the usual overly-confident Bucky you had grown accustomed to seeing.

“What the hell do you care?” Your arms crossed over your chest defensively. You started to speak again when Wanda walked out with her keys in hand.

“Hey, sorry it took so long, there’s so many people in-- Oh, did I interrupt something?” Your eyes darted over Bucky again, taking in his slumped figure before shaking your head at Wanda.

“No, you didn’t. Thanks for letting me take your car. I’ll text you when I get home.” Wanda nodded, giving you one last hug, leaving you with Bucky again. “As for you, you can take your apology and shove it. Don’t talk to me anymore, Bucky.” Bucky’s eyes that had been trained on the concrete snapped to meet yours at his chosen name. You walked away quickly, storming off to your car, not letting him get a word in edgewise.

*****

Bucky watched as the brake lights of Wanda’s car faded as you drove away. He knew he fucked up. He really did like you, he just couldn’t get a read on you. The Virgin Mary thing started out as a joke. Some stupid thing he saw on Gilmore Girls when he was watching with Rebecca. He never knew it was rooted in truth until he saw how you reacted today.

Bucky’s Ma probably would’ve smacked the fuck out of the back of his head for how he treated you. And he touched you today without you saying okay, shit, what the fuck were you thinking, asshole? God, you should hate him, you probably do. He ripped the door open, a path in the crowd clearing for him as he plowed through. He reached the fire pit where Sharon was still sitting, arms over her chest on the offense as she attacked the group around her. “Look, just because you’re friends with a virgin doesn’t mean that I have to be.”

“What the fuck? Why do you say that like a slur, you bitch? Like it’s a bad thing to not whore yourself out.” Natasha had sobered up when you left, wanting to go with Wanda, but not quite finding her balance in time. Sharon’s jaw dropped, finger raising to point in Natasha’s face.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Wanda’s eyes narrowed, joining in the fight against Sharon.

“And, why is that?” Her accent got thicker by the minute, her anger steadily rising as Sharon continued degrading her friend.

“Because my James won’t let you.” Bucky stood behind her, his weight on his back leg, a confused expression on his face.

“Your James?” His brows raised, making a face as Sharon turned to face him with a pout.

“Did you hear how they’re talking to me, Jamie?” The blonde sauntered over to him, laying a hand on his chest in a honeyed manner. “Are you going to let them talk to your girl that way?” His eyes lifted past Sharon to run over the group behind her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her start smirking as she shifted, running her hand over his collarbone, to rest on his shoulder.

“No, I’m not going to let you talk about my girl that way.” He turned to face Sharon, an intimidating look on his features. “First off, we aren’t anything, let’s just get that through your thick head. Second off, you don’t get to call me James. That’s reserved for my girl. Thirdly, I’d take Y/N’s side over yours any fucking day.” Sharon huffed again, stomping her foot like a kind, making Bucky raise one brow inquisitively.

“She’s a fucking prude, James. She’s not going to give you what you want.” She sidled closer to Bucky, her hand resting on his belt. “I can give you what you need.” Bucky’s hand came up to Sharon’s shoulders, pushing her away from him.

“You couldn’t get me hard even with the help of porn.” He dropped his hands from her body, backing away to leave. Thoughts began running through his head of how he was going to be able to salvage any type of relationship with you.

****

As much as Bucky tried, you were better at evading him than he thought you would be. He went to the bookshop where you worked and you went on break to get away from him. He tried to catch your eye during class, even attempting to sit next to you. You eventually ended up feigning a sickness and just left the lecture hall. He even tried going to your shared apartment, only to be greeted by Natasha who just shook her head and closed the door.

It was three days before Bucky saw you again. This time, at his apartment. You were supposed to be working on a project with Sam for your English class. Knuckles rapped against the door to the apartment, making Bucky stop what he was doing to answer the door. Your hands were full of textbooks, a plain tote slung over your shoulder. The smile on your face suddenly drops when you realize who it was. Bucky’s mind short circuited, all the conversations that he had with you inside of his head completely vanished.

“Is Sam here?” You stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer.

“Uh, no. He’s in class, but he should be home in about thirty minutes.” Bucky watched as you shifted the heavy books from one arm to the other, regaining your balance as you weighed your options. He pushed away from the door, opening it wider to allow you entrance.

“You can come in and wait, if you want.” Your eyes narrowed on his face, before deciding that this was the better option.

“Fine,” your finger pointed at his face as you passed him, “but no talking, dickwad.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender as you pushed past him. He caught a whiff of your honey vanilla perfume, that perfect aroma that always made his pants just a little bit tighter. He closed his eyes as you shuffled to the couch, dropping your books on the coffee table. Bucky paced back to the kitchen, pouring his mug full of coffee. He glanced up at you as he went for the sugar, seeing you had leaned over, exposing the back waistband of your shorts. The skin of your lower back was bared to him, inviting him to trace his fingers lightly over the skin there.

“You want a cup?” He shook himself out of his fantasy, there was no way you’d let him near you now. He began adding sugar to his cup as you bit back a response to him.

“What did we say about talking?” He sighed loud enough for you to hear, taking a gulp of his overly sweet drink. “I don’t want to hear your voice, I’m leaving as soon as I’m done studying with Sam.” He slammed his cup against the countertop, causing your head to jerk to the noise.

“Ya know what, shut up.” Bucky had finally gotten tired of you evading him. “You’re going to listen to what I have to say.” Your mouth opened, forming one of your famous snappy retorts, but he held up a finger, giving you a look that made you shut up. “I have been trying for days to apologize to you. Fucking days, Y/N. And now, you’re trapped, so you’re damn well going to listen to what I have to say.”

Your eyes shifted from his to the couch, picking at a loose thread on the cushion. Bucky rolled his eyes, storming over to you and yanking your chin upwards to lock eyes with him.

“I’m sorry. Sharon should’ve never said those things to you.” He released your jaw, backing away from the sofa to give you space as he spoke. “I get that I’ve been a jerk to you, but it really did start out as a joke. I didn’t actually know you were a virgin, it was just something that I said to get under your skin.”

“Why would you do that?” Your brows were furrowed, expression reading nothing but hurt. He took a seat on a loveseat near you, hands folded in front of him. He rested his weight on his forearms, not looking you in the eye anymore.

“Because I like you. Also, I lack the social skills to communicate with pretty girls beyond telling them I want to fuck ‘em.” His hands ran through his hair, a nervous tick he hadn’t done since high school. “Uh, not that I don’t want to have sex with you. I would like to, but I know that you’re, uh, well ya know, but that’s beside the point. I do like you. And I want more than sex with you. You were interestin’ and smart. And ya got along with my friends and ya work at Steve’s grandma’s bookstore and I don’t know. You just caught my eye and then I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He took a deep breath, sparing a glance at your face. You were shocked, it was written all over your face.

“Lissa is Steve’s grandmother?” Bucky stared at you, blinking once, twice and a third time before saying something.

“That whole thing, and you focus on the fact that you work at Steve’s grandma’s shop?” He laughed as a smile grew on your face. His eyes lingered a little longer, dropping to the floor soon after, lids closed only seeing that stupid grin of yours. “And ya do that. You get that stupid, dopey grin whenever you think you’re bein’ funny.” His head dropped into his hands, hanging in sorrow. “I’m just really sorry for everything that I did to you.” Bucky’s eyes locked with yours, intensity rolling off of him in waves. “I know that Sharon thought that it was okay to call you Virgin Mary because I did, and I can’t do anything to change the past. All I can do now is change the way that I act toward you now. I totally, definitely get it if you want me to leave you the fuck alone for the rest of your life, or whatever. I get it, I was a complete, to use your term, dickwad. For that, I’m sorry and I’m going to try to be better in the future.” Every bone in his body wanted to hear your response, but Bucky wasn’t sure how well he would’ve handled it if you would’ve rejected him.

Instead, he grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and walking to the door. He left without another word to you, leaving you to ponder on his words.

*****

The apartment seemed colder without Bucky there with you. Even if you were mad at him while he was there, he always managed to make butterflies flit in your stomach. You chewed on the side of your finger, mulling over Bucky’s parting words. Could you really forgive him? Calling you Virgin Mary, while true, was incredibly hurtful to you, especially now knowing that the nickname had spread to different social circles.

You shifted on the couch until your legs were thrown over the side of the arm rest. Both your hands came up to rub the heels into your eyes, trying to physically scrub out the confusion. The door opened again, a pair of boisterous voices accompanying the slam.

“Hey, Y/N.” “Hi, Y/N.” Sam and Steve spoke in unison, leaving you to raise an arm to toss a wave at the both of them. Sam padded over to the living room with his backpack over his shoulder, cocking his head to the side to stare at you.

“What’re you doin’ on the couch, girl?” Your head shifted, hair tangling at the base of your neck because of the motion.

“Yeah, how’d you even get in?” Sighing heavily you felt Sam lift your legs to sit underneath them as Steve asked you his question.

“Bucky let me in.” Sam and Steve shared a look, noticeable to you. Your finger wagged back and forth between them. “What was that?” Sam pulled a face, feigning nonchalance.

“What was what?” Your eyes narrowed as you shoved yourself into a sitting position on the opposite end of the couch away from him.

“Don’t bullshit me, Wilson.” You pulled your legs under you, sitting forward. Sam shrugged while Steve explained.

“We just know things have been tense between the two of you, so we’re just curious as to how that went. Looks like you’re alive and I’m assuming Bucky is too?” You nodded, exhaling while not meeting their gaze.

“Bucky talked. He wouldn’t let me say anything.” You raise one brow, unsure if you really wanted to know the answer to your next question. “Is it true?”

“Which part?” Had he rehearsed this or some shit?

“The part about him liking me? He’s not just pullin’ my leg to try and get back on my good side or something?” No matter how much you acted like the strong, independent woman you were raised to be, you craved for something more. You craved to have everyone’s approval, a violent toxic trait that you couldn’t train yourself out of.

“Do you want it to be real?” Your shoulders tensed at the implications of your true response. If you admitted that you did, then you would have to forgive Bucky’s transgressions and you weren’t sure you were ready for that. If you denied it, then you’d be lying and you’d lose Bucky forever.

“Maybe?” Sam’s hand clutched his chest.

“Oh thank god. Then you can get him out of his funk because I swear if he sulks around the apartment for any longer, I’m going to strangle him.”

“Wait what?” You were confused. In the past few days, you had seen Bucky on campus, smiling and happy. No indication suggesting otherwise, so what did Sam mean sulk?

“Ever since the game, Bucky’s been in a mood.” Sam held up a finger, taking a swig of his water.

“No, it was after he told Sharon off. Then he went to go find you,” He pointed his finger at you, beginning to screw the cap of his water bottle back on.

“And he’s been acting like a kicked dog ever since.” Steve finished Sam’s sentence, staring at you.

“So he wasn’t kidding?” Both men shook their heads, completely serious.

“No, he’s been into you since the second semester of freshman year?” Steve’s eyes shifted to Sam’s for confirmation.

“Yeah, love sick puppy wouldn’t shut up about you. But he was one of those really charismatic people who drew people into him, so he got a lot of ass.” Your nose scrunched as you made a face at Sam’s comment.

“Look, this is all well and good, but none of it makes up for what he did to me. So Sam, let’s just do our project and I’ll deal with that later.” Steve retreated to his bedroom, leaving the two of you to finish your homework. You fully immersed yourself in the topics, finding it easy to forget about everything else when you harnessed your energy onto something productive.

It took about three hours, but you and Sam finally finished your work. You sent a quick text to Natasha letting her know that you’d be home soon as you left their apartment. Shoving your key into the lock, you pushed the door open, yelling into the room at large.

“I’m making spaghetti tonight!” You dumped your bag and keys next to the table beside the door, heading for the kitchen to start dinner.

“Y/N! Can you come help me in your room?” You heard Natasha’s voice from down the hall.

“What do you need help with?” You started off down the hallway, curious about what she needed.

“Oh just your opinion on something.” Her answer was vague, but you assumed it was about her outfit. You got to the threshold of your room, seeing Bucky sitting on your bed, hands zip-tied together in his lap. She had also managed to shove a ball gag in between his lips, disrupting his ability to form anything other than obnoxious muffled sentences. Your jaw dropped as Natasha appeared beside the door, a sarcastic smile on her face.

“Yeah, I need your opinion on this.” Bucky’s eyes bounced between your face and Natasha’s, your mouth gaped, unsure of what to say. In your stuttering, the redhead was able to slip behind you and close the door. The click of the lock brought you out of your bewildered state. Yanking on the doorknob did nothing, so you banged your fist on the door.

“Natasha! Why is the door locked?”

“I’ll be back in a few hours, work out your problems!” Your eyes widened as you heard the front door slam shut, letting you know that she really did leave you. Bucky grunted from the bed, raising his bound hands, waiting for you to untie him.

“Oh yeah.” You set off in search of a pair of scissors, pausing for a second. “Wait.” You turned to face him, nerves running through your body. “Look, you had your turn, now it’s mine.” Bucky’s eyes traced your face before nodding, listening. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You can’t change the past, but you can change how you act in the future. I like that. That’s a good saying. And you’re right that you hurt me, you really did. I know that it started as a joke and it was funny at first, but then you kept doing it and it just got annoying.” You started pacing in front of him, your hands gesturing wildly as you spoke.

“I’m not saying that it’s going to be easy, but I do want to forgive you. I would like to, mostly because I like you too. I want something to happen between us, and not just sex. I want a relationship with you. I can’t say that it hasn’t crossed my mind. What it would be like to walk across campus on a cold day and have your arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me into your side to warm me up. What it would be like to have those small moments where we kiss and I would taste the atrocious amount of sugar you use in your coffee on your tongue. And even what it would be like to have sex with you.” You stopped pacing, facing him head on. You leaned down, cutting the ties from his wrists, feeling a bit guilty about how red they were. Bucky removed the gag from his mouth before he stood in front of you, your eyes locking with his as you continued.

“But I would have to know you’re serious. You have to earn my trust. You have to earn my love and I would have to earn yours too. Relationships are two-way streets and I’m willing to work through it with you if you are. But only--” Your sentence was cut off by his lips. His hands cupping your jaw to keep you in place as his mouth attacked yours. It wasn’t as harsh as you thought it would be. Instead, you relished in the feeling of his lips caressing yours, his thumbs rubbing the lower half of your cheeks. He broke the kiss when the need for air became too great to ignore, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, but you really are an English major.” He pecked your lips again, pulling back to face you. “I’m willing to work for you.” A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pushed forward, searching for his lips again.

“Let’s work through this together then, James.” He wore a wide grin as you said his first name again, finally getting to appreciate the way it sounded without annoyance fueling it. Bucky leaned down to kiss you again when the door burst open, Natasha displaying a smug smile.

“See, I knew you just needed to work it out.” You leaned down and threw a pillow at her head, making her giggle as she ran away. You turned back to Bucky, eyes searching his.

“Two-way street?” He nodded, pulling you in for a loving kiss.

“Two-way street.”

*****

@dorothea-hwldr

[highdramas]

your lips, my lips | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers

word count: 2404

summary: is there a more divine thought than being kissed by bucky barnes?

note: here's another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don't have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn't like!

enjoy! <3

how do you know when james bucky barnes is going to kiss you?

you’ve learned that you’re not good at figuring out when, how, or if he is going to kiss you. there have been countless moments outside your door, inside your apartment, inside his apartment, down the street at the pizza place, where you thought… this is going to be it. he’s going to hold your face in his hands and you’re going to feel the cold sting of metal that has somehow become so warm to you. he’s going to pull you in closer to him and your eyes are going to roll back into your head and you’re going to experience the bliss that is kissing james bucky barnes.

the time has never come.

because every time you tip your head back slightly and think this is the moment, it has simply never been the moment. sometimes, bucky clears his throat and gives his head a little shake, as if ridding himself of the thought that you both just shared. the thought that you could kiss right now and never look back and hope for the best. but you know bucky, you really know him, and you know that though he may not admit it often, he is fearful. and if he’s anything like you, he’s afraid of ruining this good thing that sits between the two of you, like a glowing ball of energy and goodness and understanding.

despite your fears of never wanting this feeling to subside or fade or crash and burn in some fiery death, that doesn’t mean that every moment you’re around bucky, you’re not thinking of him kissing you. because you are. and it’s driving you slightly insane.

right now, you sit with bucky in central park. you have learned many things about him, but one of the more recent things is that he has never been on a picnic. you had gaped at him then, and you think you said something along the lines of-- “you were wooing women in the 40s and never took one on a fucking picnic?”

that’s another thing about you and bucky.

you may fear a lot, but you do not fear him.

there has never been a moment where you have pushed bucky to tell you more than he was comfortable with. at the start, once he knew that you were already well aware of who he was and some pieces of his history-- it felt like you both started with a mutual understanding. an understanding that says, i know, and it won’t make me run.

but he has told you what he wants to, in bits and pieces. the first time, it was about yori. it was about the look in yori’s eyes when he talked about his son to bucky, it was about how bucky doesn’t know how he can make amends here, how he can say or do anything to possibly help a man who has lost his son at the hands of a man who he has come to call friend.

you have watched as guilt and anger have made a mess of this beautiful man.

and what did you do in return?

sometimes, you didn’t speak. you didn’t think that was what bucky was looking for. you were simply there, with a listening ear and a careful touch.

other times, you did. other times, you couldn’t help yourself.

it was hard to sit and watch and listen to bucky torture himself over and over and over-- you would burst, you would take his metal hand in between yours and you would squeeze and you would say-- “you are not the things that they forced upon you.”

and bucky halted at that. bucky halted and he stared at you, eyes that were moments ago frantic and full of fright, trying to blink some of those feelings away. he would blink and he would try to slow his breathing and he would finally say to you, “how can you know what i’ve done and not walk away?”

“bucky, ever since i’ve known you, the only direction i’ve wanted to walk is towards you.”

he tells you the hard things.

but he also tells you the good things. the things before hydra.

like the dates he went on, the way his life looked in the forties.

so, naturally, when you found out about the lack of picnics in the life of the winter soldier-- you had taken it upon yourself to decide that a picnic was exactly what you two needed.

it was four months ago that bucky asked if you needed help building your cat tower. later, you would call him a creep for spying on you, but you would say it with a smile on your face and a light nudge to his ribs. and in four months it has been hard to stay away from him. that is, when he wasn’t away himself-- you know of his work with the falcon, and really, you think it’s a good thing. you met sam briefly a week ago, after they returned from god knows where, and sam had been nothing but a gentleman. out of the corner of your eye, you even think that you might’ve seen sam nudging bucky and murmuring something that you couldn’t quite make out.

so when he is here, you try and savor every moment, every laugh, every brush of his fingers against yours and every sweet look you two share.

and you hope that maybe one of these times, he will kiss you.

“damn-- this is good.”

the corner of your mouth turns up as you watch bucky sip on the sickly sweet wine you brought. there is a wide assortment of food before you-- strawberries and brie, crackers and cheese, plump purple grapes and chocolate that makes your mouth water. you had made sure to go all out for bucky’s first picnic.

“i didn’t know if you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your own. “it’s like juice. so sweet.”

bucky furrows his brows. “you know i have a sweet tooth,” he mumbles and it makes your heart sigh because, yes, you do know this. you know him.

for a moment, you turn your focus on the scene in front of you. there are kids running around the park playing, couples laying in the grass, a dog owner throwing a frisbee to a black lab. everyone with their own little lives, their own quiet eternities that you will never know of. when you look at bucky, you wonder what these strangers wonder about you.

you stare and you are not embarrassed to do so, not even when bucky meets your gaze with a firm smirk. “can i help you?”

“no,” you shake your head defiantly. “just looking. is that allowed?”

“i guess,” he says and leans back on the palm of his gloved hand. “don’t know i’m much to look at.”

a snort leaves you. his brows furrow. “are you serious?” you finally ask.

“yes, i’m serious.”

“bucky, i don’t know how else to tell you this, but you are certainly not hard on the eyes.”

you watch as his face goes red and you have to halt yourself. “oh my god,” you say. “you’re blushing.”

“i am not. that’s ridiculous.”

“yes, you totally are! you’re blushing because i said you’re easy on the eyes!”

“it’s a natural bodily response.”

“sure, buck.”

there’s a beat of silence and you chuckle, if only to fill the air and to avert your eyes from his gaze. he’s staring at you with a slightly slacked jaw and a gleam in his eyes that you don’t think you’ve seen before-- and it feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped atop your head. “you’ve never called me that before,” he says quietly.

“oh, yeah, well--” you chuckle again and you shrug. “i don’t have to--”

bucky shakes his head instantly. “no. i don’t mind.”

you smile at him and you look down at your empty cup and back up to him. “we should start heading back.”

the two of you make quick work of gathering together your picnic. you laugh as bucky takes a swig from the bottle and you swat at him, saying public intoxication is very illegal, to which he rolls his eyes. you take the last sip of the bottle and then you’re on your way back to your apartment building.

the earth is on the cusp of spring-- where the nights are finally starting to get long and the air smells crisp, smells like pollen and change. you lean against bucky as you walk and you let out a sigh. “i love spring,” you murmur to him. “the world always feels so new.”

bucky looks over at you and he nods his head. “it’s nice,” he says in quiet agreement.

that’s one thing that you like about bucky-- he doesn’t fill silence unnecessarily. you do. you’ve been trying to break the habit in the months you’ve known him, much to his amusement. he has called you out plenty of times. “i can tell you’re itching to talk. i don’t mind. i like listening to you.”

he’s carrying the majority of your things and you offer to take something off his hands at least three times in five blocks, and every time he screws his face up as he looks at you, as if to say-- funny.

he’s good at saying things without really saying anything at all. you don’t like to think too hard about how he picked up that skill.

bucky helps you into your apartment with your things, and he goes a step further and he helps you put away leftovers and wash the dirty dishes you two had created. “i know if i don’t help you now, they’ll be in your sink until i come over again.”

so you stand side by side, he washes and you dry and put away. you play the bee gees and you’re surprised by how much bucky enjoys it. you’ve been traveling through decades of music with bucky, and now, you’re on seventies. bee gees, fleetwood mac, blondie, abba-- you’ve curated a perfect playlist for him. when you come home from work and hear him listening to it through the thin walls of this old apartment building, you try to ignore the way that your heart swells.

and just as fast as you got swept up in your day with james buchanan barnes, it is coming to an end. you walk him to your doorstep and you lean your head against the doorframe as he stands in it, lingering still, staring at you. “can i help you?” you mimic him from earlier.

bucky laughs.

you love that laugh. you want to earn it again and again and again.

“just looking,” he says in a voice that you have a suspicion is an impression of yours. your jaw drops, and he laughs again, and you don’t know if your heart could swell anymore.

your laughter mingles with his, like a waltz floating through the air until it dissipates above your heads. all that’s left is you and him and the dim light of the hallway and the god awful carpet. “well…” he motions behind him. “i should…”

“yeah.” you bite down on your lip and push back off the doorframe. “night, buck.”

“night, doll.”

your breath hitches and you put on your best smile and you watch as he begins to step down the hall, and finally, you click your door shut.

it’s like pure energy courses through your body. you place your hands on your hips and you pace, looking down at kitty who has emerged from your bedroom. she meows up at you, and you sigh. “oh, honey,” you murmur as you bend down to scoop her into your arms. “why won’t he kiss me?”

you stand there for a few moments before you begin to grow frustrated with yourself. why do you have to wait for him to kiss you? you know that the lines have been blurred long ago, that there is simply no way that he can look at you like that and not want to kiss you too. setting kitty down, you wipe your hands on your jeans and you decide that you are going to be bold, you are going to be brave. and if it blows up in your face… well, you’ve always been somewhat impulsive. you’ve found your way through things blowing up in your face countless times.

you swing your door open and bucky is already there.

with all of your momentum, you almost collide into him. he catches you by the elbows and looks at you, pupils slightly blown, concern on his pretty face. “were you going somewhere?”

“no!” you stammer out immediately. “no… no. i was--” you sigh and you lick your lips and you finally fix your eyes on him. “i kind of-- i kind of thought that you were going to kiss me, back there. and i was disappointed that you didn’t because… well, i don’t think i’m reading into things, but i really think that we might be on the same page about--”

bucky will never know how you were going to finish that sentence, and frankly, with all the frantic nonsense you were spewing, you don’t know if you even knew to begin with-- because he takes your face in his hands and his lips brush yours.

he’s rid the gloves. that’s the first thing you notice, that delicious cold of smooth metal again your cheek. the next is that his lips are so soft. the third is that you could kiss him forever and you think you could never grow tired of it. he is gentle yet demanding, passionate but so incredibly tender that it breaks your heart. it breaks your heart over and over again thinking about the way he thinks about himself, the things that were forced upon him.

you part. a string of spit connects your lips and it makes you laugh and it makes your cheeks grow warm. bucky reaches out with the hand made of metal and wipes your bottom lip and it makes your heart thump, thump, thump in your chest.

“we’re definitely on the same page,” is all he says before he takes your face once more. this time, you shuffle backwards and into your apartment, the door clicking shut. "there's just a dance to these things, doll."

[fanficimagery]

When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags:  @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination  @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul​ @wintershadowkat  @b1sexualtonystark  @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

[estrel]

Are You Happy? (Save Them Some Pie)

HAPPY 42ND BIRTHDAY, DEAN!! this is my gift to him for being my comfort person that i would hug on sight if given the chance 💗 love you dude, may you indulge in copious amounts of pie. ~ 1.5k words.

also dedicated to marlo ( @heller-jensen ), jace ( @thiscastielhasflown ) and dee ( @castee-yel ) thanks for bein real ones <3

[READ ON AO3]

The day had already started out weird enough.

Dean had woken up drenched in sweat, mind racing with the last lingering thoughts of a nightmare. A vamp nest that he and Sam had been hunting, Dean dying in the most ludicrous way possible, and driving Baby down a long road for an indiscriminate amount of time in a supposed heaven that his father (his father) also co-habited. Needless to say, the dream had come out of nowhere, but it was easy enough to forget once the smell of bacon made its way into his room.

Breakfast was hardy and quick, with enough coffee to fuel him for the rest of the day as he skimmed the internet for a possible case. He had the itch, but apparently, looking around at the three sleepy faces around him at the table, no one else did.

He packed up anyway, preparing for what would likely be an easy salt-n-burn; he’d be gone for only a few hours, tops. On his way out, Cas stops him before he can scale the stairs, arm gripping his shoulder tightly. There’s a memory, briefly—the same hand, the same shoulder. Blood.

Dean looks down at it. Back at Cas.

“…Yeah?”

After a moment, Cas lets go. He steps back half an inch as if he had forgotten himself. “Just…be careful.”

Dean nods, moving to leave again, taking the awkwardness as both a Cas thing and a morning thing and content to leave it at that. 

“And,” Cas says. Dean turns back.

“Come home.”

//

Dean picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dean, hey! It’s, uh. It’s me. Krissy?”

Dean feels himself begin to smile, mindful of the road ahead of him. He balances his phone on his thigh while he drives.

“Hey, kid! Long time no call. How are you? Everything okay?”

The case had been as easy as Dean had suspected, but he had that familiar muscle ache and heaviness to his eyes that solo cases usually gave him.

Besides that, he was getting a little confused about all of the calls he’d been getting today. Before Krissy, it had been Garth, and before that, Claire and Jody and…

“Uh, yeah, dude, everything’s good. Um. How are you? How’s Sam and that angel of yours?”

Dean swallows to keep from choking, or potentially crashing the car.

“They’re good. Yeah…good.” Alive, he wants to say, back from the dead, probably in the DeanCave watching Scooby Doo without him. “Sorry, Krissy, ah,” he steps off the break to make a left, “I’m actually on my way home right now. Was there something I could help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Dean chances a glance at his phone to see if the call had dropped off. It hadn’t.

“Krissy?”

“I,” she huffs in what sounds like a laugh, “Nothing, Dean. You get home safe, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“And hey,” Krissy says, before he can say his goodbyes, “Uh, make sure you save some pie for everybody else.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow a bit, but he laughs. “I will. Take care of yourself.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Ba-bye.”

//

Dean’s still mulling over the pie comment when he nearly falls down the stairs, squinting into the darkness of the Bunker.

“What the hell?” he asks, voice hoarse around the high note. “Guys?”

When there’s no immediate answer, Dean’s instincts kick in. He pulls out his gun and gently drops his bag, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust so he can try for the stairs.

Before he can, though, the lights kick back on. His gaze locks onto the scene below, and Dean slowly lowers his gun.

“Happy birthday!” Jack says, the sound of a party horn whining shortly after. Beside him, Cas pulls the string of a party popper, and he jerks as bits of confetti fall around him and into his hair.

Skeptically, Dean starts descending down the stairs.

“You…this…” he manages.

“It’s your birthday, dumbass,” Sam says, swooping forward to slap a party hat on Dean’s head as soon as he’s made the landing. He smiles.

“Oh…kay.” Around them, the Bunker looks pretty normal. The only difference is the array of pies on one of the library tables, next to what looks like home made rice krispie treats, and a couple of birthday-themed plates and napkins. That, and the confetti from Cas’ party popper that litters the floor. “Are you sure?”

Cas frowns at Sam. “Sam was certain. I can’t imagine he’d get the day wrong, but he has had quite severe brain trauma over the years. Perhaps…” Cas reaches out to Sam’s head, probably intent on searching his brain for said trauma, or for the date of Dean’s actual birthday. Sam swats his hand away.

“Hey, no. My trauma is fine. Dean,” Sam redirects his attention to him, “It’s today. Did you really forget?”

Dean shrugs, trying to piece the day together from the beginning. Shitty dream, good breakfast, the three of them weirdly insisting on staying at the Bunker…the calls. Save some pie for everybody else.

He laughs. “So that’s what she meant.”

“That’s what who meant?” Jack asks. He’s wearing a party hat, too, with ridiculous stripes of blue and pink and purple patterned onto it. It matches the one currently strapped to Dean’s own. He shakes his head.

“You’re telling me all of you knew? This whole time? And…and…” He looks around again, pointing vaguely at the table and the confetti. “You put this all together for me?”

Sam shoves his arm playfully. “Course we did. Now quit pouting and come eat some pie.”

//

Sam is fast asleep, sprawled out on the couch hours later with one of his hands brushing the floor. Dean thinks he spots drool on the pillow underneath him. 

Cas has been quiet next to Dean, at least since Jack had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and hadn’t come back, thoughtfully tracing the lip of his beer bottle with his finger. 

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks, because he wants to know.

Cas continues unbothered. Scooby Doo reruns play in the background. Dean almost repeats the question, but Cas eventually lifts his gaze to stare at him.

“Are you happy?” 

Dean presses his mouth shut. Licks his lips. He takes just as long to answer.

“You know what,” he smiles. “I think I am.”

Cas smiles back at him, soft and genuine. The skin around his eyes crinkling tells more than the gentle upturn of his mouth. 

Dean swallows, nervously putting his beer down and turning it a few times until his fingers are wet with the condensation. 

“What, uh. What about you?” He swallows again. “You happy?”

What he really wants to ask, though, is if they were good. If, after recent events, they were still the same. If Cas was still fine with “just being.”

He’s quiet again. Dean thinks he deserves that, and tries to pay attention to the TV, but the voice in his head is too loud. Cas has to tap his knee to get his attention again.

“Hm?”

“I was saying,” he moves his hand back, “that I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift.”

Dean stares at him. “What are you talking about?”

Cas looks confused, like he’s about to repeat what he just said. Dean stops him short with a wave of his hand. 

“Dude, you just got back from the dead, alright? That’s—that’s gift enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t worry about a gift.”

Cas frowns, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s another few moments of tense silence, until Dean breaks it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“But, uh,” he says, “I might have a gift for you.”

“Dean, we don’t share a birthday. It’s not customary to gift me something, especially when I haven’t given you—“

“Cas,” he groans, officially putting his beer aside and facing him. Cas’ features are lit up with the colors of the TV. Dean reaches a hand up to pluck confetti from his hair, a green piece that he’d been eyeing all night. Hesitating, he lets his hand fall to Cas’ face, smoothing over his cheek and jaw. The TV paints his cheekbone purple. Dean brushes his thumb over it. “Just...shut up and let me do this.” 

Cas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in that way of his, and Dean thinks he looks perfect. When he dips forward and presses their lips together, it’s perfect, perfect, perfect. He’s warm, his face is burning, eyes almost watering when he pulls away.

Dean lets his forehead rest on Cas’, heartbeat still crazy. He closes his eyes. “We can have it, Cas. This. We can have this.”

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands, lifts it a little to bring them face to face again, so that he’s looking into Dean’s eyes.

“I’d like that, Dean,” he says, and his eyes are wet, too. Happy, Dean thinks.

“Your gift to me?” Dean manages, smile wobbly. He’s teasing, trying to bring down the weight of this without getting rid of all of it. He likes this type of adrenaline rush, different from any hunt he’s been on. Better.

Cas smiles. “I think technically it was you that gifted me, but, yes. My gift to you, if you’ll take it.”

“Gladly,” Dean says.

Cas hums back, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Happy birthday, Dean.” He leaves a kiss on his forehead.

Happy. 

Dean thinks, for the first time, as he pulls more confetti from Cas’ hair, that it actually is. 

—

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[dailyreverie]

No one in place except you and me

A/N: Another anon request! This was written to include the phrase “Not to sound cheesy, but your smile really lights up the room tonight.” You can request a prompt FROM THIS LIST.

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption.

Stark galas after a hard mission are your favorite events in the world. You'll take any excuse to step out of the spandex suit and slip on a fancy dress that makes you feel like you were born to wear.

Music is loud since the hour before the event is supposed to start, blasting through the compound, pumping your energy. You are ready to have fun, the promise of alcohol, partying, and Wanda and Nat by your side, makes you rush through whatever's left of your makeup to join the party as soon as you can.

"Smoking hot." Nat says as you meet with her in the hall that leads you to the event.

"Damn!" You say at the same time, looking at her looking amazing.

"I guess we're ready to party." Wanda says, joining you as you walk together into the event.

The room is already buzzing. Every table crowded, the bar busy as ever with drinks coming and going nonstop.

Steve is quick to approach once you settle down on the bar, a polite “Ladies” leaves his mouth as a drink reaches each of you. “You all look great.” He says, his eyes doing a weird thing of lingering on you for a second and then looking behind his shoulder. After that, he’s quickly engaged in conversation with Nat.

And yes, you know you look great, you know the way the dress flatters every curve of your body. Steve’s eyes are not the only ones parking on your body for longer than they should, as you walk around greeting guests you notice multiple pairs of eyes looking at you, boosting your confidence to the roof.

Wanda drags you to the dance floor after a good while of drinking. Booze is already running through your blood, your head is a little bit lighter, and you let the loud beat of the music guide your every move. Sam joins your little dance circle, laughing with you at Visions attempts of dancing, and as your hips move and roll you notice him doing the same thing Steve did: he stares at you and then looks behind his shoulder. Your eyes follow his line of sight and that’s when you see what’s going on.

Over at a dark table, sitting with Steve, Bucky is looking at you from behind his glass as he takes a big gulp. You keep dancing, trying to forget the soldier’s eyes piercing through your skin as you feel a blush creeping on your neck and cheeks. There’s an unspoken thing between you two since the moment you joined the team. There are soft touches when you pass each other, shared smiles when you catch the other’s eyes during a meeting, longer training sessions, and constant movie nights ‘just to catch him up’ when in reality they were just to get a couple more hours of Bucky at the end of the day.

“Forgive him.” Sam says in your ear as both of you move to the beat. “You make him shy, sweetheart.” He winks, making you laugh nervously. With the power he has on you, wearing that suit, with his hair pushed back, and his dog tags showing, you question how he’s the one being shy.

A couple more songs blast through the speakers when you remove yourself from the dancefloor to freshen up at the bar. “Tired already?” Nat asks from behind the bar as you sit on a stool and a much needed drink arrives to your hands.

“Not at all.” You say with a laugh. “I just needed a drink.”

“Well that’s good then, because I’m pretty sure that your night just began.” She points her chin to somewhere behind you, and as you turn around you see Bucky approaching the stool next to yours. Nat places a beer on the bar and turns around with a wink.

“I was wondering when you were going to join us.” You say, clinking your glass against his.

“At the dance floor? Nah…” He replies, looking at Wanda, Vision and Sam still dancing. “Vision is stealing all the good moves, I would have looked ridiculous.”

You both laugh, and if only you knew what your laugh did to Bucky’s heart.

“Hey, uhm…” Bucky starts, clearing his throat. “Not to sound cheesy or anything, but your smile really lights up the room tonight. You look amazing.” He steps closer to you, his face mere inches away from yours. His lotion invades your senses and clouds your every thought. “You always do, always look amazing.”

His hand travels down your arm and lands on your waist as yours grab the flaps of his suit. You pull him down to you, lips finally meeting make both of you let out a sigh. The music and noise seem to stop as your lips explore each other, and you feel both of his hands grab your waist, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. You have no idea how you went so long without his lips on you, because now that’s the only place you want to be.

A couple of minutes go by when you pull apart, smiles of both of your faces as you do. “It took you long.” You say with a light laugh, which he matches.

“I had planned on doing it tonight, but when you showed up, looking like that, I almost back down.” He eyes you up and down as he says that, making you blush.

"That's why were lurking in the shadows?" You question jokingly, and now it is his time to blush. “Come on, I’ve been told you are a great dancer.” You say standing up and grabbing his hand, walking towards the dance floor with Bucky close to your back.

“Steve said that?” He asks, shaking his head in response. “I only know swing, not… whatever this is.” He is a little reluctant to walk into the dance floor, but suddenly you change directions and start walking towards the exit of the room. Bucky grabs your waist from behind, whispering “Where are you taking me, doll?” in your ear, sending shivers down your back.

“I’ve never danced swing before.” You enter the living room, lonely and quiet, and a song from Bucky’s playlists starts playing on your phone.

Nat was right, your night was just beginning.

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed it :) xx

[wearywinchester]

Back Again

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When it’s time to say goodbye after a date, Dean finds that it’s a little harder than it looks to do just that.

Requested by @halietigges: “Hello! Can I please request a oneshot where Dean is driving the reader (gender neutral) home after a date and the two share a goodbye kiss before the reader leaves the car and returns back into their home?”

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none—fluff, kissing

You sigh as you smile, content as ever as you walked to the car. Dean’s hand enveloped yours, keeping you close as you made your way along the well worn path. It was quiet, save for the growing breeze and the birds chirping before sundown, save for the two sets of footfalls over gravel. The clouds were rapidly becoming abundant as the breeze continued on, but even the impending storm couldn’t dampen your mood, couldn’t dissolve the happiness simmering in your stomach.

You felt a bit of relief when you caught sight of the Impala, the raindrops falling against your skin having been sparse but you knew it was only a matter of time before they’d pick up their pace. You quickened your step as you pulled Dean along, hearing his chuckle behind you.

“Easy there, sweetheart. The car’s not going anywhere,” he says, teasing in his tone as he wraps his hand around the door handle, opening the passenger’s side for you.

You spun on your heel as you looked at him over the door, his amused gaze catching yours as he began to walk around the front end to get to the other side. He stops in his tracks at the mere smile on your face, his lip between his teeth as he awaits your next words.

“You know,” you start, your smile widening even more as you look at him, “you keep sayin’ that, and maybe one of these time Baby just might prove you wrong, Winchester.”

He rolls his eyes at that as you duck into the car, closing your door as he opens his. You don’t fail to see the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth or the shake of his head, or the laugh that leaves his lips softly. His hand hovered over the key that sat in the ignition, his words on the very tip of his tongue as your words replayed in his mind. That’s when he turned to you.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, sweetheart?” He says, gaze fond as ever as he looks at you.

“You bet I do.”

His tongue swipes over his lips as he shakes his head once more, starting the car as his smile still lingers as he pulls out and looks at the road ahead. He turned on the radio, halfway through a song that he’d been quick to hum along to as he sped down the road.

It was the end of another date night amongst many, this one just as good as the last and the others before that. It was one that left you smiling to yourself as you looked out of the window at the trees and street lights passing by.

You’d gone to that diner in town, the one with those fries you swear are your favorite you’ve ever had. He knows that and it’s why he brings you there whenever he gets the chance, because that smile you’ve got on your face every time you get them makes it all worth it to him. That diner’s got that bacon cheeseburger he orders every single time without fail because nobody makes them quite like they do there. You know that and that’s why you pick that place every single time.

Your thoughtful reasons were unbeknownst to each other but still very much there each and every time.

He’d picked you up after he closed up at the garage for the day, having taken you straight to dinner the moment he found it in himself to stop looking at you like the lovestruck guy he knew he was. He’d never in a million years admit it though, no matter how much Bobby picks on him for it, no matter how much Sam teases him for it even for the years that built up to him finally asking you out on that very first date.

You were his best friend, the one he fell in love with and it took him a lot of stubbornness and a lot of Sam talking Dean out of backing out of making that move. He was glad he did and he wouldn’t admit that to Sam either.

He’d shown up on your doorstep with that famous Dean Winchester smile, the one that’d always seemed to be reserved just for you despite you being unaware of that fact. But just about everyone that knew the two of you were very much aware of it, it was hard not to be. You had your usual meal at that special diner you’ve alway found yourselves in one way or another for a number of years. You sat in your usual booth with all the contentment in the world as you sat there across from one another.

He’d snagged the last two slices of apple pie when it was nearing sundown, taking them to go and heading off to the one place you always went to. It was a quiet spot, nestled with trees standing tall all around the lake they framed. There was a wooden dock on the water’s edge, one you sat on together more times than you can count ever since you were teens who were too oblivious for their own good.

Now you were a couple of twenty-five year olds who’d finally worked up the nerve to be more than fools who’d pined for each other in secret, still oblivious to just how much you’d cared for one another.

You sat on the edge of that dock with your pie, a couple teasing jests shared amongst yourselves and bites stolen from the other’s slice. It was just the two of you there and you wouldn’t want it any other way than just that. It was your spot.

Dean Winchester wasn’t a man for fancy, best of the best restaurants, or the suits and ties and pristine fashion that come along with attending such a place. He wasn’t a man for wine and five course meals that cost way more than they’re worth. He loved greasy diner food and beer and the coziness that comes with eating in a place like that; it felt like home and it was comfortable. In fact, he’s still got some grease stains smudged across his cheek and under his nails from work. Still smudged on his t-shirt and the flannel he wore over top of it, his knuckles scraped up and busted from a car he can’t quite remember had been the cause.

He wasn’t one for expensive gifts, didn’t have the means for it despite the way he wanted to give you everything you deserve. It was one of the reasons he’d been so stubborn on talking himself out of taking you out on a date some time ago because he felt you deserved better than him, more than him, but that was something he’d push down forever because he’s quite sure that feeling wouldn’t ever go away.

Because despite that, he couldn’t keep himself from you, regardless of that nagging feeling he shoved down, he’d never be able to keep himself from anything that’s you.

But he wasn’t one for all that stuff in the movies and you couldn’t care less. You’ve got everything you need and there wasn’t a single thing you’d change about any of the dates he’d taken you on. You could do the same thing with him for forever and a day and not a single time would you find yourself growing tired of it so long as you did it with him.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze on the road as his elbow rested atop the ledge of the door as his hand draped loosely over the wheel. It didn’t take him very long to feel your gaze, his suspicions confirmed when he looks to his right and finds you smiling that smile at him, the one that makes him weak in the knees every single time.

He bites the inside of his cheek as he looks forward once more, and you know that look anywhere.

“You know, sweetheart,” he starts, throat clearing as the corner of his mouth quirks up a little more. “I heard if you take a picture, it might last longer.”

There it is.

You roll your eyes at his words, head shaking as you bite back your smile.

“You should maybe consider taking your own advice some time too, Winchester,” you say, your smile widening all the more at the look on his face, at the faux frown tugging at the corners of his mouth before his lips purse.

But that look didn’t last long, not at all as a quiet laugh fell from his lips.

You grinned as you looked down at your hands, at the small bouquet you held bunched in your loosened fist. It was a cluster of an assortment of flowers that didn’t match, picked spontaneously from the patches of wildflowers by the lake. It was something sweet that he thought of the moment he saw them, but it was something that made him make a mental note to get you a real bouquet next time.

But the small bunch of flowers grasped in your hand was more than enough for you, the look on his face when he’d plucked them from the ground and given them to you would be something stuck on your mind for a good long while and you were more than content with the idea of that.

The drizzling rain was steady as he pulled onto your street, the clouds having covered what was left of the sunset in favor of a looming gray, a contrast to the weather when he’d first picked you up. It didn’t seem like it would be stopping any time soon, heavy droplets pelting against the windshield and ricocheting off the hood of the Impala.

But that seemed to be the least of your concerns the very moment he pulled up in front of your house, parking along the curb.

You ran your tongue across your lips as you sigh, gaze looking out at the rain until it inevitably landed on green eyes as he’d done the same. He’d since turn the heat on low on your way home, seemingly a comfortable comparison to the chilly and gloomy evening weather just outside of the car. But when you met his gaze, just about everything else seemed to melt away and slip to the very back of your mind.

“I’m really starting to hate the idea of kissing you goodbye every time we go out on a date, you know,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“So, you hate kissing me goodbye?” You jest, head tilted as you try your hardest to bite back your smile.

His lips purse only momentarily as his eyes roll, tugging you all the more closer as his hand settles on your cheek. Your cheeks burn with a light heat as the warmth of his breath sweeps over your lips, his smile very much there.

“Sweetheart, you know what I meant,” he murmurs softly, lips pressing to yours in a kiss almost feather light, lingering there for a moment or two. “It’s the goodbyes I’m worried about.”

Your laughter is quick to simmer against his lips and dissolve into a hum just as quickly as it sounded, his lips warm against your own as the pad of his thumb brushes along your cheek. The tip of his freckled nose bumps against yours as he tilts his head, his own smile pressing into his kiss.

In not so perfect timing, a crack of thunder sounded, drawing your attention away from him and to the more than obvious fact that it might be in your best interest to head inside before the weather worsens.

Your gaze flickers from the windshield to Dean, his lips kiss swollen and pink as he swipes his thumb over his bottom lip with a sigh, his head tipping back momentarily. But he finds he can’t keep his eyes from you that long, the fondness of the look he’s got on his face mixed with the dread of parting ways for the night melding together in his expression.

He had his hand on the door handle, ready to get out and hurry you to your door in the rain before you stopped him.

“De, there’s no use in having you get rained on too,” you say, your brow raising when his lips purse. You knew he couldn’t care less about that but he also knew you wouldn’t budge. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, sweetheart,” he says quietly in the close proximity as you lean over the bench seat, kissing him once more.

You braced yourself as you stepped out into the rain, rounding the front end of the car before hurrying up the walkway to your front porch, the rain having dampened you being less than ideal. But he waited, he waited until you got up to your porch, waited until you got your keys after fumbling for them, waited until you opened your door and got inside safely before he even thought about pulling away. He always did that and he always would.

It wasn’t until you closed your door that you sighed, back pressed to the wood surface as a sigh left your lips, breathless from your rain dampened jog up to your house and breathless with utter content as your eyes fell closed for just a moment. Your smile still lingered just as it had done almost the entirety of the last few hours, sitting on your lips as you set your flowers down, set your keys on the table by the door.

You had to admit, goodbyes were the worst part of every date, of every bit of time spent with the older Winchester. The thought of it always had dread pooling in the pit of your stomach and it’d felt that way for as long as you could remember, but the both of you were far too stubborn to admit just how much you hated it.

But you didn’t have much time to think about it with the knock that sounded against your door.

You spun on your heel and twisted the door knob, opening it a crack before the smile tugged at your lips in an instant. When you opened it fully, green eyes stood on the other side of it under the covered porch, a half smirk on his lips as your flannel sat grasped in his hand. The one you kept in there for safekeeping should you find yourself running cold.

You take your lip between your teeth as you look up at him, your amusement more than evident in your expression.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re making excuses just to see me, Dean,” you say, matter of factly as your hand remains pressed on the edge of the door.

“What do I look like, some sappy rom-com guy?” He asks, trying his hardest to sound offended in the slightest bit.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

You watched those dimples appear by the corners of his mouth despite his ever present grin, his tongue wetting his lips as he looked away for a moment. Watched as droplets of water drip from the ends of his hair and roll down the bridge of his freckled nose to the very tip of it, dripping down to the ground.

You shake your head at his antics as you let go of the door, stepping out onto the porch.

“You really are something, Winchester,” you say.

You lean on your toes and settle your hands on his cheeks, lips brushing over his and your flannel drops from his hand in favor of wrapping around you his smile pressing into yours.

Goodbyes were what he’d dreaded most, even if he’d see you the very next day. It didn’t matter. You knew it’d be a matter of time before he’d shown up on your doorstep once more that night with a more than foolish excuse—he always did.

And you were fine with that.

—

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