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mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

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Jersey

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College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college, football player bucky is a biggest warning tbh, he's so in love, locker room sex, nat is good friend, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

Author's note: honestly one of my favorite fics because college athlete bucky is my biggest weakness (I should probably write about him more often)💘

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his last name on your back.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights."

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

***

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine."

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moans filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘m too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #james buchanan barnes #marvel imagine #marvel smut #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #college!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #mcu x reader

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clockwayswrites · 3 months ago

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Birb in a box Part 14

masterpost

By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.

Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.

Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)

A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.

The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.

Which was odd.

Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?

“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”

Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.

“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”

Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”

“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.

“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.

His son ignored him.

“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”

“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.

“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”

“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”

“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”

“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”

“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”

Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”

“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.

Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”

Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”

“Not good at that?” Dick asked.

He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.

“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”

“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”

“No kidding,” Dick said.

Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”

Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”

“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”

Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.

Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.

“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.

Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”

“A very nice way to look at it. I—”

“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.

Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.

“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”

“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.

“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”

“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.

“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”

“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.

Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.

---

AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #danny x bruce #birdritch

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months ago

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A Father’s Love?

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well

Update: part 2 is here

“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.

Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.

But sometimes it was unavoidable.

“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”

Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”

“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”

Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.

“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.

“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”

Somehow, apathy was even worse.

“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.

“What? You said leave you alone.”

“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”

“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”

But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.

“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.

“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.

“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.

“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.

“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”

“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.

“I mean your just a little pest!”

“Stop it! Just go away!”

Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.

“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.

“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.

You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.

“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.

“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”

“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”

That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.

Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.

“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”

You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.

“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.

“Ok,” he said firmly.

Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.

…

The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.

You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.

“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”

“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”

“Fell?” Dean frowned.

You nodded. “In-in the shower.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”

“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”

Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”

The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.

“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.

“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”

“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”

…

“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.

“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.

“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”

Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.

“I understand.”

…

You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”

Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”

“Ok Uncle Dean.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

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deanwinchestersbabygirll · 2 months ago

Text

Protective~ Dean Winchester imagine

Warnings// angst, fluff and cock blocking

lil summery// just a lil cutesy protective Dean Winchester

*REPOST FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT*

Dean x Reader

Word count// 1400

(gif from Pinterest)

You Sam and Dean had just finished a pretty rough ghoul hunt, once you guys had all showered the remnants of the night, dean suggested you guys head out for a few drinks to celebrate, once you got to the bar Dean and you slide into a booth, deans arm wrapping around your shoulders pulling you into his side “you get the first round Sammy” Dean said smirking at his brother, Sam rolled his eyes “fine but you’re next” he said walking to the bar

“So how you feeling after you’re first ghoul sweetheart” you looked up at your boyfriend “well I’ve gotta say I won’t be chasing one for a very long time, much prefer a simple salt and burn” Dean chuckled kissing the side of your head, “alright beers are severed” Sam said sitting down with the drinks “thanks Sammy” you said taking a drink out the bottle

You and the guys were having a great time talking about passed hunts before you’d met them “he just looked at me all upset and said ‘I lost my shoe’ all because he lost the damn rabbits foot” Dean laughed finishing his second beer, “alright my round boys just another beer?”you questioned getting up “yeah thanks Y/N” Sam said “yeah me too thank you sweetheart” you hooded moving to the slightly crowded bar you quickly got the bar tenders attention “hi three beers please” the man nodded “that’ll be 12 bucks gorgeous” he said placing three beers in front of you, you nodded handing him a 20 dollar bill, the bar tender went to get your change leaving you standing for a few minutes

“what’s a beautiful girl like you doing at a place like this” a man grumbled out from one of the bar stools, he looked to be a drunk creep no younger than mid 50s “I’m here with my boyfriend and friend” you said back hoping he’d back off at the boyfriend comment “ah bet your boyfriend doesn’t treat you like I would” the man said moving closer to you “look buddy I’m not interested I’m in a relationship” he didn’t seem too happy with that “you better watch yourself you bitch I’m giving you a choice the only thing you should be saying is yes sir, because that’s the only damn thing you’ll be saying when I’m pounding you in front of your little boyfriend you slut!” he spat out, “is there a problem here miss?” The bartender asked returning with your change “no everything’s fine thanks” you said grabbing the change stuffing it in your pocket before taking the beers back to the winchesters

“Hey sweetheart everything good? You were gone a while” Dean said grabbing his beer and pulling you back to your place at his side “yeah fine just waiting for my change” you answered quietly, you could see the man from the bar staring at you his hand holding his glass tightly in his grasp as he wouldn’t break eye contact “I’m gonna head back to the motel after this one guys I’m pretty tired” you said feeling uncomfortable either the stares the man wa giving you, dean nodded “yeah I think we’ll all head out then, you good with that Sam?” Dean questioned, Sam nodded

Once you guys finished your drinks you made your way to the exit, from the corner of your eye you seen the man get up, following your trail to the exit, starting to feel scared you grabbed deans hand tight, Dean turned to look at you concerned “you okay Y/N? You hands really sweaty” you nodded to answer him too nervous to even speak, you thought the night air would make you feel better but knowing the man was following behind was just making your feel sick, before you could get into baby dean stopping you, both hands on your arms as he looked at you “sweetheart my job is lying for a living, I know somethings bothering you and I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is” Dean asked alerting Sam “what’s going on?”

Sighing you looked behind the brothers to find the man staring at you from behind a car “there was a guy at the bar, he freaked me out a little bit I didn’t care too much until he sat staring at me for the last hour so I wanted to leave but he followed us out here” you said, your heart pounding in your chest, Dean got an angry look on his face as he turned searching the parking lot “where the hell is he!” Dean moved to look around finding him quickly, Dean stormed over “hey! The hell do you want jackass? You think you can harass my girlfriend I wouldn’t find out” Dean grabbed the man by his shirt “not my fault she’s a whore man, just wanted a little taste of her sweet p-”Dean didn’t let him finish his sentence before he was released punching him in the face “my nose!” The man yelped but dean wasn’t done yet, Sam was holding you in a hug blocking the fight from your eyes

Once dean was done teaching the man a lesson in how to respect women he walked back over to you and sam “alright he’s down, let’s get back to the motel” Dean said getting in the drivers seat. Once you guys made it back to the motel you followed the brothers back to the room, Sam went into the bathroom leaving you and Dean alone

sighing dean sat on the bed you two would be sharing, he started to wrap his bloody knuckles you let out a shaky breath before sitting beside him and taking his hand “I got it” you said taking out the rubbing alcohol and rubbing it on his wounds, Dean flinched slightly at the sting “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He asked softly you looked up giving him a small smile “I just didn’t want to bother you, I just didn’t realise how big a creep the guy was till he followed us out” dean nodded “sweetheart if someone or something is ever bothering you I don’t give a rats ass how by or small, you tell me and I will take care of it” you nodded “yeah I will I’m sorry dean” Dean was shaking his head “you have nothing to be sorry for Y/N you did nothing wrong” you wrapped your arms around deans shoulders pulling him to a hug, we wrapped his own around your waist holding you close to him

You pulled away to give him a small kiss, however a small kiss with Dean was never really just a small kiss, this one being no different as Dean was swiping his to tongue along your bottom lip, you parted your lips allowing dean to explore your mouth, you moaned quietly when dean pushed you slightly to lay back on the bed as he moved to lean on top of you as you continued to make out, deans hand was tugging at the hem of your shirt, and just when you were about to take it off the bathroom door opened, the younger Winchester emerged in his pyjama pants and shirt “seriously!” He yelped turning away

Dean sighed moving to stand up “relax Sammy were decent” you chuckled as you moved to get up and get changed in the bathroom, Dean following close behind “seriously don’t guys I don’t want a repeat of the hunt back in Chicago” you giggled “I promise Sammy we’ll keep it PG” you and Dean changed into your sleepwear, Dean sporting the same as sam, minus the shirt, he found them to be annoying when it got too hot in bed, you in a pair of shorts and deans old led zeppelin shirt

When you both emerged from the bathroom Sam was already tucked in for the night, all lights off minus the one in the bathroom, you and Dean made your way to the bed getting in either side Dean quickly grabbed your waist tugging you close enough so you could rest your head on his bare chest and tangle your legs together “we’re definitely getting our own room next hunt” Dean whispered kissing the top of your head, you chuckled at his remark closing your eyes “whatever you say Winchester”

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

lil repost of one of my personal favs from my old account :))

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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Bucky likes what he sees

Imagine Bucky goes out with the team for drinks, staying at the bar nursing on a drink while his eyes linger on the pretty girl in a red dress. It’s like she wanted his attention, the material hugging her body perfectly while her hips sway, her head tilted back when she laughs at something her friend says. They lock eyes for a second, and God does he love that smile-

“Why don’t you go over and talk to her” Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder when he notices the pretty thing Bucky’s been eyeing, the girl equally flirty, giving him shy smiles every so often, “C’mon, she’s into you”

“Knock it off” Bucky huffed, shaking his head and going back to his drink while Steve takes his turn to encourage his bestfriend.

“Maybe buy her a drink, see how it goes” he offers but the deadpan look he gets back is enough for him to snort and raise his hands in defeat. Bucky is perfectly happy just watching, noting every dip and wine of her waist, her dress riding up ever so slightly with the movement of her body. His eye’s narrow when he sees someone try to sneak their hands on her from behind, only to be turned down when she moved away.

However the guy doesn’t seem to get it.

He’s back again, this time trying to grab her with more force, pushing his hips against her ass.

Bucky doesn’t like it.��

Steve and Sam exchange knowing glances with each other when they see his jaw clench, the rest of the team also now quietly watching what the super solider would do. Nat and Tony noticed the sparkle of a diamond ring, huffing when she sees it’s on her ring finger.

“Isn’t that a wedding ring? Whole ass rock on her finger”

“Never mind, I think she’s marr-

Before they could say anything else, Bucky is on his feet, striding over to the dance floor, eyes locked on the man pawing at the doll that had his attention all night.

“Don’t touch my wife” Bucky growled, shoving the man off, letting him stumble onto the floor, his voice dying down immediately when he noticed who was towering over him. He scrambled away without looking back while the rest of the team stayed frozen in place, jaws all on the floor, watching Bucky pull you into him with ease. He smoothed down the red material of your dress, walking you over to the bar where there was a bit more light, hardly noticing everyone staring at you both.

“You okay, babydoll?” Bucky held your waist, looking you over, his fingers tracing over your face, his arm tightly hugging you.

“I’m okay” You nodded, standing on your toes to peck his lips, your hand’s resting on your husbands chest, nuzzling into him. “Wondered how long you’d last just sitting there” You giggled while he smirked, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, I didn’t do anything until someone touched you” Bucky pouted in defense, making you melt over how protective he was.

“Thank you for saving me Mr. Barnes” you whispered while he looked down at you with heart eyes, taking your hand in his, placing a kiss on the ring that sat on your finger, the one that he spent months picking and designing just for you.

“Wife?” Sam broke the silence while everyone else continued to look at you both in disbelief.

“Oh” Bucky blushed, blinking with owlish eyes, his baby blues pleading with you to take over because he doesn’t know what to say. “This-this is my wife, y/n” He tried to bite back a shy smile but it was no use, his cheeks dusted pink, feeling giddy and fuzzy with you beside him.

“Come again. Wife?”

“Uh-yeah” He tried to hide behind you through it was no use, his much larger and taller form still clearly visible.

“What’s terminator doing”

“This...this is the winter soldier everyone is so scared of..for fucks sake, are you trying to hide behind her?!”

“How long has this little secret been going on for”

“thryrs” Bucky mumbled but no one else hears it except for Steve, given his enhanced hearing.

“THREE YEARS?!”

“Steve, I can explain-

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES”

“Tony-

“YOU BITCH”

Bucky groaned, tucking his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, completely tongue tied. He was going to introduce you to the team at some point, he just didn’t imagine it would be like this, he also didn’t anticipate feeling this shy.

“You know you can blink twice if he’s been holding you hostage” Sam cackled at the way your 6ft soldier clung onto you, refusing to look at his friends, your hand gently patting his head, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“If it helps, he talks about you all of the time” You smiled, only to have Bucky frown on the inside for you exposing him.

“No, I don’t” His muffled voice vibrated against your neck, reluctantly pulling away, “Maybe only about Steve”

“Uh huh, sure”

“Well, as you can see, I didn’t need to talk to her, she’s already mine” Bucky grinned, kissing your cheek, his mind now fully focused on bending you over on the dance floor but-

“You’re not getting away that easily Barnes, sit down, we’ll ask the questions” Tony stated, while everyone moved to one side, leaving the other side empty for you and Bucky.

“Question 1. What’s your full legal name”

“James-

“LIAR”

“Steve-

“Bitch”

It was going to be a long night.

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prentissluvr · 3 months ago

Text

hold me, it's enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : "who did this to you?"

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence.

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional.

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.

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fatecantstopme · 11 months ago

Text

This Isn't Real

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When you get kidnapped by a Djinn, Dean and Sam risk everything to save you.

Warnings: canon violence, talk of death, cursing. Shit ton of angst. Some fluff. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V).

You woke up in an unfamiliar room as the sun began to peek through the curtains. Your eyes took a moment to adjust as you glanced around the room, desperately trying to remember where you were and how you got there.

Your mind flashed to a dark warehouse and vague memories of searching for something there, but the harder you tried to remember, the farther away those memories became.

You sat up with a groan and began to rub your temples. Where the hell am I?

You felt someone stir in the bed beside you and realized you weren't alone. You turned to look at the person, but you heard his voice before your brain could process what you were seeing.

"Hey baby, you okay?" he asked groggily.

"What?" you managed to croak out--shock settling into your bones as you stared at the man beside you.

He sat up, revealing his bare, toned, muscular chest. You looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. Why the fuck am I in bed with Dean Winchester?

He touched your cheek and turned your head towards him. "You okay? I heard you groan."

"I--um...I'm fine," you stuttered. "What, uh--what happened last night?"

He raised his eyebrows as he regarded you. "We came home from the party early because you were feeling a little...frisky."

"Party?" you asked in confusion.

"Damn, baby, how much did you have to drink?" he asked with a chuckle.

Your face must have show how deeply confused you were, because he seemed to take pity on you.

"It was Sam's birthday party, babe. Remember? We came home, had some damn incredible sex, and fell asleep. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Sam's birthday?" you muttered, then belatedly yelled, "WE HAD SEX?"

Dean laughed. "Girl, you gotta lay off the whiskey sours. They're messing with your memory." He kissed you on your forehead before dragging himself out of bed.

You were now faced with a very naked Dean Winchester and you averted your gaze out of habit.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?" he asked with a smirk.

"I...uh--I...not right now."

He looked a little crestfallen, but he simply shrugged. "Suit yourself."

As soon as he'd entered the bathroom, you jumped out of bed and looked around the room. Something had to be going on. Something insane. This wasn't real life--it couldn't be.

You glanced down at yourself and realized you were completely naked. You quickly threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before continuing your search around the room.

You saw a couple framed pictures sitting on the bureau near the bathroom door. You picked one up and felt your jaw drop. It was you and Dean on a beach. You grabbed the second one and found it was also of you and Dean, only this time you were apparently in Paris. The third and final picture was, of course, of you and Dean. It looked like some kind of park and he was on his knee in front of you, holding a small blue box in his hand.

You glanced at your left hand in disbelief, but there it was--a very large, very beautiful diamond ring. "We're engaged?" you mumbled in shock.

You set the picture down and collapsed onto the bed. Your mind was reeling and you had absolutely no memory of any of this.

You knew Dean--you'd known him for years--but you were just friends. You hunted together. That was all. Sure, you'd always liked him more than you should have, but he didn't reciprocate it. You certainly didn't wake up in the same bed, and you definitely weren't engaged to him.

When you woke up yesterday, you'd been in a motel room with Sam and Dean...you were hunting something. You closed your eyes and desperately tried to remember what it was. It was almost as if something was blocking that specific memory--no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't grasp it.

Dean appeared from the bathroom, clad in nothing but a towel around his waist. He saw you sitting on the edge of the bed with your head in your hands. Concern knotted his eyebrows together and he immediately crossed the short distance between you.

"(Y/N/N)?" he asked softly when he reached your side.

You looked up at him and felt your heart skip a beat. He was beautiful and perfect...and it was downright offensive. How anyone could look that good was a mystery. An even bigger mystery was why in the hell he was engaged to you.

He knelt down in front of you and took your hands into his. You stared at them, feeling the warmth spread throughout your body.

"What's going on with you?" he asked gently.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked into his beautiful green ones. "I don't know where I am," you whispered. "I don't...I don't remember any of this. I--I don't think it's real."

Dean's face lit up in surprise. "What do you mean? Of course it's real." He squeezed your hands comfortingly. "Do you feel that, baby? I'm real and so are you."

"Then why can't I remember?"

He looked sad. "I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe you just need to give it a little time and then your memories will come back."

You shook your head. "I was in a motel yesterday. A motel with you and Sam. We were going hunting."

Dean looked confused. "Hunting? I've never been hunting and I'm pretty sure you haven't either. Are you sure that wasn't a dream?"

"It felt--real. It was real," you insisted.

"Okay," he said soothingly. "What makes you think that was real and this isn't?"

"I remember it," you whispered.

"And you don't remember our lives together," he finished softly.

You nodded.

He reached up and tucked a hair behind your ear. "I don't know why you can't remember, but I'll be damned if I don't help you figure it out."

He stood up. "Why don't we go see Sam? Maybe going to his house will jog your memory of last night?"

"Okay."

He grabbed your hand and helped you to your feet. "Let's get dressed, pretty girl. Everything's gonna be okay."

You nodded, feeling a little more confident that everything might really be okay.

**********

When Dean pulled up in front of Sam's house, you looked out the window, but didn't have any rush of memories. Nothing about it looked familiar.

Dean came around and opened the car door for you and took your hand as you stepped out. He watched your face for any sign of recognition, but he saw none.

"Come on, beautiful," he said gently, leading you to the front door.

A few moments after Dean rang the doorbell, Sam appeared at the door with a warm smile. "Hey guys! Come on in."

Dean led the way and you followed gratefully.

"So, uh...Dean mentioned you're having some memory problems?" Sam asked gently.

You nodded. "I--uh--I don't really remember much of anything really."

"Hmm," Sam hummed. "Sit. Let's talk."

You and Dean sat on the couch and Sam sat across from you on a chair. Dean explained the morning's events to his brother, while you sat quietly. There wasn't much more to say.

"So what do you remember?" Sam asked you.

"Hunting," you answered honestly. "I remember hunting with you and Dean. We've been doing it for years together."

"Hunting?" Sam asked in surprise. "We've never been hunting in our lives--and certainly not all together."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" you blurted.

Both men looked shocked. "I'm sorry, what?" Sam asked.

"Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, vampires, werewolves...all the things that go bump in the night. Do you believe in them?"

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks. "No, (Y/N)...those are just stories," Dean said gently.

You sighed sadly. "That's what we hunt," you whispered so softly they almost didn't hear you.

"We hunt monsters?" Sam asked incredulously.

You just nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else.

"Baby, that really does sound like a dream. An intense dream, perhaps, but a dream nonetheless," Dean said calmly.

"Then why does it feel so real?" you asked softly.

He looked sad. "I don't know, sweetheart. I really don't."

"What about right now?" Sam asked. "Does this feel real?"

You nodded.

"As real as hunting monsters?" he prodded.

You nodded again.

"Then why would you think this isn't real?"

"I guess I don't have a good answer for that," you admitted. "Hunting monsters does sound kinda crazy, doesn't it?"

Dean offered you a soft smile. "A little bit, baby. Especially for a lawyer, a mechanic, and a veterinarian."

Hearing the careers the three of you apparently had sparked another question in your mind. "Dean, how did we meet?"

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"How did we meet?"

"We met when Sam found that stray dog with the broken leg. He asked me to drive him to the nearest vet office...you happened to be the vet on duty that day."

You closed your eyes and tried desperately to remember meeting him, to no avail. You also couldn't remember veterinary school or even having a job at all.

"Hey, it's okay," Dean said sweetly, upon noticing your distress. "You don't have to remember right now."

Tears filled your eyes again, upset and ashamed at your inability to remember your life.

Dean wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. He kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Everything's okay, baby. I love you. You're safe."

You knew without a shadow of a doubt he was right about one thing--you were safe. You had never felt safer with anyone in your life than Dean Winchester and it didn't matter that you couldn't remember this reality...you still knew he would protect you with his life.

**********

Dean's POV:

It had been three hours since (Y/N) went missing and I was losing my mind. Sam and I had looked everywhere...we should have never let her wander off on her own.

My brother was clearly having similar thoughts as he said, "You shouldn't have let her go out there alone."

"Let her?" I asked in annoyance. "I didn't let her do anything. She got mad at me and stormed off. That's not my fault."

Sam glared at me. "You're the one who pissed her off and you didn't go after her."

I kicked a rock that was at my feet as hard as I could. I hated that he was right and I hated myself for upsetting her. I was terrified of what would happen if we didn't find her in time. "I know," I admitted softly.

Sam's expression softened. "We're gonna find her, Dean."

I looked up at him and sighed. "We've looked everywhere. It's like she just disappeared."

"She didn't just disappear. Something or someone took her."

"We've been in this town for 6 hours. It's not like we've pissed anyone off yet," I grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. Besides, (Y/N) could fight off most humans she came across..."

"She went looking for the Djinn, Sam. I just know it."

"Why would she do that on her own? She's not stupid."

I groaned loudly. "Because she had something to prove!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I was mad at her, okay? I was mad she was so reckless during our last hunt and I lashed out at her. I told her there was no way she could do this job without us, but we were perfectly capable of handling it on our own. I wanted her to stay at the motel while we took care of the Djinn."

"Dean, she saved your life!"

"I know!" I yelled. "I didn't ask her to do that! She could have died."

"That's the life, Dean. We all could die at any time."

I glared at him. "If she died saving me, I would never forgive myself. Never."

Sam sighed. He knew what I was trying to say without me having to say it. I wouldn't admit the truth and he knew it. "You should've known telling her she couldn't do something would make her want to do it."

I closed my eyes. "I'll regret it for the rest of my life, Sam."

Sam shook his head and opened the passenger door of the Impala. "You won't have to because we're going to find her."

I watched my brother get in the car and I took a deep breath. "I hope you're right," I whispered before getting into the car myself.

**********

It had been a couple days since you'd woken up in a strange place. You weren't sure why your memories were gone, but you'd started to feel comfortable. You'd settled easily into a routine, and those memories you'd had of hunting had begun to fade.

Dean had suggested you take some time off of work until you felt more comfortable...and perhaps your memories would return during that time. You'd taken his advice since you had zero memory of college and you didn't feel comfortable having animals' lives in your hands.

Dean had been the perfect boyfriend--fiancé. He was incredibly patient and sweet and it warmed your heart to know just how much he cared. Any time you forgot something that had happened, he would gently remind you about it without making you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable.

It surprised you to realize how deeply you cared for him--how much you truly loved him. He loved you, that much was clear, but you had yet to share those feelings with him. At least, not in your recollection.

You'd spent the day relaxing on your back deck with a good book. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt this happy. An hour before Dean would be home from work, you went inside and began preparing dinner. You wanted to make him something special as a thank you for being such a good partner.

You were standing in the kitchen finishing up dinner when Dean got home. He came into the room and inhaled deeply. "Smells amazing, babe. Whatcha making?"

You turned to him with a smile. "Lasagna."

He grinned. "I freaking love lasagna." He came over and kissed you softly. "And I love you."

You smiled warmly. "I love you too, Dean."

His beautiful green eyes lit up at your words. He stepped forward and pressed you up against the counter. His arms snaked around your waist and he kissed you deeply.

You squirmed a little when it became hard to breathe. Dean chuckled as he broke the kiss, allowing you to inhale rapidly.

"You're covered in grease and you're getting it on me," you teased. "Go shower and dinner will be ready by the time you're done."

He smiled and kissed you again. "Fine, fine. I'll shower." He stepped away from you and turned to go towards the bedroom.

"Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got a surprise for dessert. I think you're gonna like it."

He grinned ear to ear. "Is it you?" he teased.

"Dean Winchester!" you yelled with a laugh. You threw a hand towel at him and he ran from the room to escape, laughing all the way to the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes and went back to finishing dinner. You also pulled a pie out of the fridge and set it on the counter to finish defrosting. You'd gone to the store earlier that day and picked up an apple pie--Dean's favorite.

15 minutes later, Dean came into the kitchen looking refreshed and clean. You were setting the table, so you told him to have a seat and you'd bring out the lasagna.

"Do you want a beer?" you called from the kitchen.

"Water's fine, babe," he called back.

You froze for a moment. In all the time you'd known Dean, he had never turned down a beer...certainly not in favor of water. A voice in your head was screaming that something wasn't right, but you ignored it. You shook your head to clear your mind and quickly poured him a glass of water instead.

The two of you ate dinner, enjoying each other's company. You listened to Dean talk about his day and he asked about yours. It all felt very mundane...very domesticated.

You kept a smile on your face throughout dinner, even though something was bothering you. You couldn't help but feel like you were meant for something more--like your life had a different purpose. Maybe you were just in your head too much since you weren't working at the moment. That had to be it...

"Sweetheart?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Hmm?" you hummed in response.

"You okay?"

You smiled. "I'm fine, Dean. I was just lost in thought."

His eyes scanned your face for a few moments, but he eventually smiled. You were doing a good job of hiding your thoughts from him, but you weren't sure if that was a good thing.

Once dinner was done, you began to clean up. Dean insisted on helping, which you appreciated. You kept him busy with packing the lasagna away in leftover containers so he wouldn't notice the pie on the other counter.

"Ready for dessert?" you asked sweetly.

He smiled. "Sure, baby. What'd you make?"

"I bought it, but I think you'll still like it. Go sit back down and I'll bring it out."

He nodded and went back to the dining room.

You cut a generous slice of the pie for him and a much smaller piece for yourself. Pie had never been your favorite dessert, but Dean loved pie more than he loved anything in this world. You didn't mind having something that wasn't your first choice because you knew it would make him happy.

You came into the dining room and placed the large slice in front of him before sitting down with your own.

He was quiet for a moment and you felt that same voice creeping into your head again. "Dean? It's apple pie..."

"Yeah, thanks (Y/N/N). Kind of a big piece though, don't you think?"

The voice in your head got a little louder. "Sure, but you never turn down a big piece of pie. I've seen you eat an entire pie before." You chuckled at the memory...except Dean looked different in your mind. Rougher, but somehow happier.

"I suppose you're right. I can make some room in my stomach for it. I guess I'm just not the biggest fan of apple pie."

You froze and the voice began screaming at you. SOMETHING IS WRONG! "Apple pie is your favorite," you said quietly.

His face changed as he looked at you. He smiled warmly and said, "You're right. It is my favorite. Thank you for thinking of me."

Your heart was beating so quickly you thought it might actually explode. The man in front of you had gone from 'not the biggest fan of apple pie' to 'apple pie is my favorite' in the span of 30 seconds.

In that moment everything changed. It was no longer just a voice inside your head screaming at you to leave...you realized it was your voice.

"This isn't real," you whispered.

"What'd you say, sweetheart?"

You looked up at Dean--the man wearing Dean's face. "None of this is real." You stood up. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

He sat there in shock as you rushed towards the door. You weren't exactly sure where you needed to go, but you had a feeling you would find it. You were out the door and running down the street before he even realized what had happened.

**********

Dean's POV:

"This is the last vacant warehouse in this godforsaken city and I swear to God if she's not here, I'm going to kill someone."

"Since I'm the only person here, maybe you don't kill anyone," Sam said calmly.

I glared at him, but didn't say anything. We'd been searching for hours and we hadn't found a damn thing. Not even a clue. This was a last ditch effort to find (Y/N) and I didn't know how I would handle it if she wasn't there. I wasn't sure I could handle it.

I parked the Impala a little ways away from the entrance to the warehouse, just in case the Djinn was there. I didn't want to tip it off. We grabbed our weapons from the trunk and headed inside.

We'd only been inside the building for a few minutes when I heard a sound that sent chills down my spine. It sounded like blood dripping and my only thought was of her before I took off running.

Had I been thinking rationally, I would have realized it was just the sound of water dripping onto the floor, but I was far past rational. There aren't many people in this world that I would die for, but (Y/N) was second on that list right after my brother. She didn't know it, but she meant the world to me. I had to find her--alive.

Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. He gave me a look like I was being reckless, which I suppose I was. He pointed to a room up ahead that appeared to be dimly lit. He started walking towards it and gestured for me to follow.

The moment we turned that corner, my worst fears came to life. The only thing I saw was the woman I loved strung up from the ceiling by her wrists, feet barely touching the floor. She was extremely pale and I could see blood slowly draining from her body into an IV bag.

I moved towards her with a speed I didn't know I had. Terror filled my lungs as I reached for her, worried that I was too late. There was a lot of blood in that bag and I had no way of knowing how many had been filled already.

I touched her cheek with shaking hands and I whispered her name. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears as I begged her to wake up. I tried to feel for a pulse, but my hands were shaking too much to tell.

Sam came up beside me and pressed his fingers to her neck. I watched him in terrified silence, waiting for him to shatter my heart into a million pieces.

"She's alive," he whispered in relief.

My eyes widened in surprise and my heart practically flew out of my chest with joy. "We need to get her out of here," I whispered back as I unhooked the IV to stop the blood flow.

Suddenly, Sam went flying across the room and I turned around in surprise. I came face to face with the Djinn, who was reaching for me with blue electricity crackling from his fingertips. I ducked to avoid his hand and the fight began.

**********

You had no idea where you were going, but your feet were on a mission. You felt like you'd been walking for days, but in reality it had only been an hour or so. You belatedly realized you could have just stolen a car, but on the off chance you were wrong about all of this, you didn't want to commit a crime.

After almost two hours of walking, you found yourself standing in front of an old abandoned warehouse. Something about the imposing building felt strangely familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on why.

You entered the building cautiously, silently cursing yourself for not bringing anything that could be used as a weapon. You'd been so focused on getting away, that you hadn't done much--any--planning.

The building was dark and you didn't have a flashlight, but thankfully you'd had your phone in your pocket when you left the house, so you pulled it out to use the built in flashlight.

When you looked at the screen, you saw you had several missed calls and texts, mostly from Dean, but several from Sam as well. You ignored them both and turned on the flashlight.

You began to wander through the giant space, looking for something--anything--that felt out of place. It was a lot harder to find something when you had no idea what you were looking for.

After several minutes of wandering aimlessly, you noticed a room up ahead that appeared to be dimly lit. Well that's weird. You slowly made your way closer, trying to be as quiet as possible.

As you rounded the corner, everything changed. You nearly dropped your phone at the sight before you. You were hanging from the ceiling by your wrists, feet barely touching the ground, blood slowly filling an IV bag to your left.

In an instant, everything fell into place. Your memories--your real memories--flooded your mind. You remembered your argument with Dean and your foolish arrogance as you sought out the Djinn on your own. Clearly you'd been unsuccessful in your attempt to kill it--so here you were, trapped in a dream in your own mind while your body slowly died in the real world.

"(Y/N), stay," you heard Dean's voice say from behind you.

You turned to face him, knowing he wasn't real--he wasn't your Dean. "I can't...this isn't real."

"You're right. It's not. But it will feel real. You'll live out your whole life with me. We'll be happy and normal. Isn't that what you want?"

You thought about it for a moment. "No," you answered honestly. "I wasn't meant to be normal, to live a normal life. I'm a hunter...I save people. If that means I'll never be truly happy, if it means I'll die alone, then so be it. I can't stay here no matter how badly I want to...my real life is out there. The real you is out there."

"The real Dean doesn't love you the way I do."

Tears filled your eyes and you nodded. "I know...but at least he's real."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, desperately trying to wake up.

In the distance, you heard a voice yell your name. You focused on the voice, but you couldn't figure out whose it was. The voice begged you to wake up, to fight..."come back to me," it pleaded.

You began to sink into darkness, unsure of whether you were about to wake up or die. In the moments before the darkness overtook you, you realized who the voice belonged to. "Dean..." you whispered.

Then, blackness.

**********

Dean's POV:

"Sam!" I yelled as my brother was once again tossed across the room. This Djinn was seriously starting to piss me off.

I knew I needed to get (Y/N) out of here, but I was a little preoccupied trying not to end up strung up beside her. I'd managed to disconnect the IV, so at least she wasn't losing blood anymore.

"Shit!" I yelled as I once again dodged the Djinn's hands.

Son of a bitch! I saw Sam's silver knife lying on the floor, a short distance away from me. I moved towards it quickly, grabbing it before the Djinn noticed.

The creature approached Sam, clearly about to zap his ass into dreamland. I rushed up behind it and stabbed it in the back, bringing it to its knees.

The Djinn seemed surprised and I smiled ruefully. "Lamb's blood and silver--lethal combination, you son of a bitch."

Sam started to pull himself off the floor, retrieving his knife from the dead Djinn's back. One glance at my brother told me he was fine, so my focus turned back to (Y/N).

I rushed over to her and held her up while Sam started to work on the chains tying her to the ceiling. "(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

She didn't respond, not that I expected her to, but that didn't deter me. "Come on, (Y/N). I need you to wake up."

Sam finally got the chains removed from her wrists and she slumped into my arms. I sunk to the ground, holding her close, and continued to beg her to wake up. I knew I sounded pathetic, but I didn't give a damn.

"(Y/N), please. I know you're mad at me, but I need you to wake up. I need you to fight. Please." I laid my head against her forehead and I whispered so softly only she could hear, "Come back to me."

To my surprise, I heard her whisper, "Dean..."

My head shot up and Sam's eyes widened. (Y/N) didn't say another word, but I knew she was alive. I picked her up and carried her to the car, gently placing her in the backseat before speeding off like a bat out of hell.

I pulled into the nearest hospital in record time, throwing the car into park without a thought. I carefully pulled (Y/N) from the backseat and carried her into the ER.

Sam had gone ahead and gotten a nurse to get a gurney, which I placed her on gently. I watched as the nurses took her back to an exam room and I sent up a silent prayer that she would be okay.

**********

You awoke to the sound of beeping and it didn't take you long to realize you were in a hospital. With that realization came a flood of memories. You had no way of knowing how long had passed here in the real world, but for you it had been days.

You began to stir and you let out a groan as your eyes started to adjust to the brightness in the room.

"(Y/N)?"

You turned your head towards the source of the voice, but you couldn't quite make out the person's face.

"Hey," the voice said again. "You're okay. It's me."

Your eyes were still struggling to focus, but you recognized the voice. "Dean," you mumbled.

You didn't see it, but he smiled warmly. "I'm right here, sweetheart. You're okay."

Your body tensed slightly, unsure of how to feel. He didn't normally call you by any pet names and you suddenly feared you were back in the dream. "What happened?"

"You were captured by the Djinn. Sammy and I found you."

Your whole body relaxed and you let out a relieved sigh. Dean didn't understand why that would calm you, but he didn't question it.

"Thanks for saving me," you whispered. Your eyes finally focused on his face and you knew in your heart this was your Dean. He just looked different and your heart tightened at the sight of him.

"You don't have to thank me. It was my fault you ran off in the first place."

You shook your head. "I was an idiot."

"No you weren't. You could have taken him if you weren't distracted by my asshole comments."

Surprise lit up your face. "So you're admitting you were an asshole?"

He chuckled grimly. "It's a one-time deal, so don't get used to it."

You smiled. "I expect nothing less."

Dean shifted slightly, clearly wanting to say something, but he remained silent.

"What?"

He seemed to debate for a moment, but finally asked, "What did you dream about?"

You sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," he insisted. "The Djinn lets you live out your dream life...so what's your dream life, (Y/N)?"

"Technically, the Djinn grants you a wish and the life you see is based around that wish."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're avoiding the question."

"It was my dream, Dean. You don't need to know about it." You spoke a little more harshly than you'd intended and you hated yourself a little for it. Especially when you saw Dean wince.

He quickly recovered and threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I won't press, I promise."

"Thanks."

"Let me go talk to the doctor and see when we can get you outta here, okay?"

It was like he knew exactly what you needed. It warmed your heart and broke it all at once. "Thanks, Dean."

"Sure, (Y/N/N)."

**********

"Will I ever not be tired?" you complained grumpily two days later.

Sam laughed from the small table across the room from the bed you were currently curled up in. "It'll just take a little time. You lost a lot of blood, so your iron levels are low. Be patient."

"I hate being patient," you grumbled.

Sam chuckled again. "You sound like Dean."

As if he'd been summoned, Dean himself walked through the motel room door. "Dinner is served!" he announced happily.

You sat up and started to get out of the bed, but Dean ran over to you. "You can eat in bed, (Y/N). You need your rest."

"I appreciate that, Dean, but you're smothering me. I'm tired of laying in this bed."

Sam laughed and Dean just shook his head. "Alright fine."

He helped you to the table and you sat down across from Sam. You were grateful for his help, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"I got you a burger," Dean began. "I wasn't sure if you'd be feeling up to eating one, but you could really use the energy."

You smiled warmly. "A burger sounds amazing, Dean."

He handed you your food and gave Sam his. He pulled out his own, then reached into the bag and pulled out a small item, which he handed to you. "They, uh...they had freshly baked brownies, so I got you one."

Your eyes lit up as you took the neatly wrapped brownie from him. "Thanks," you said softly.

"They're your favorite, right?" he asked.

He remembered. "Yeah. Especially with the--"

"--little chocolate chips," he finished for you.

You stared at him for a moment, a soft smile gracing your features. Your eyes began to water, so you looked down at your food to keep from embarrassing yourself. "This looks delicious."

The three of you ate your dinners in companionable silence. When you were finished, you got out of your chair and started to make your way back to the bed. You were still tired, but you felt stronger than you had in a few days.

Dean immediately jumped out of his seat to help you, but you gently told him you were okay. "I'm alright, Dean."

His hands seemed to twitch as he watched you walk away, clearly wanting to make sure you were okay. He didn't relax until you sat down on the bed and started to unwrap your brownie.

"She's strong," Sam said lowly.

Dean turned his attention to his brother. "I know. I just worry about her."

"You know I can hear you both, right?" you said from your bed.

Both men chuckled lightly.

"The room's small and voices carry," you teased.

"You're not wrong," Sam said as he got up with a stretch. "I actually think I'm gonna hit the bar. I could use a drink after the week we've had."

Sam looked pointedly at his brother, which didn't go unnoticed by you. You watched as some sort of nonverbal exchange happened between the two men.

"I'll be back later," Sam said, getting what appeared to be the final word in whatever discussion they had been having. He walked out the door with his jacket and Dean locked it behind him.

"Since when does Sam go to bars by himself?" you asked.

Dean shrugged, but didn't meet your gaze. "Guess he really needed that drink."

"Or he wants to get laid," you mumbled.

Dean groaned. "Gross."

You laughed. "He's not a monk, Dean."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to think about him getting jiggy with it."

"Did you just say 'getting jiggy with it'?"

"I was trying it out."

"Maybe don't," you said with a laugh.

He grinned and flopped down on the other bed. "I'll make a note of it."

The two of you fell into silence, but unlike during dinner, this one felt uncomfortable. The tension hung in the air and there was so much you wanted to say to him...and so much he wanted to say to you.

"Do you wanna watch TV?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Not really."

"Okay."

The silence continued to drag on until Dean finally couldn't take it anymore. He sat up and looked at you, gaze seeming to bore into your soul. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"When you saved my life, I was pissed. Beyond pissed. I haven't been that angry in a long time. But it wasn't because I wanted to die or anything like that...I just didn't want you to. When that vampire sent you flying and I heard you hit the wall, I was terrified. More terrified than I've ever been before."

He took a slow breath before continuing. "Once the vampires were all dead and you started to get up, I felt relieved--you were okay. But then all I felt was rage. I was so angry with you for putting yourself in harm's way like that...for risking yourself to save me. I'm not entirely sure I deserve saving, but I do know if you had died to save me, I would have never forgiven myself."

You stared at him in silence, lips parted, eyes full of emotion. "Dean..."

He held his hand up to stop you. "That's why I yelled at you...that's why I said everything I said. I didn't--I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling, so I lashed out at you. You didn't deserve it and I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry, (Y/N)."

"I appreciate your apology," you said softly. "But I won't apologize for saving your life. If I'd let you die? I wouldn't have forgiven myself."

He looked a little surprised. "I didn't think about that."

"You never think you deserve saving. You don't think you deserve happiness or peace, a normal life--god forbid love... You think you're some kind of monster, but you're not, Dean. You're the best person I know. You're loyal to a fault, strong and brave, but also kind and gentle. No one hates you the way you hate yourself, Dean Winchester, and I'm tired of you projecting those feelings onto other people."

This was absolutely not the direction he'd imagined this conversation going...but here they were. "I don't know why you think that...you've seen me at my worst."

Your expression softened. "You're right. I have. But I've also seen you at your best--and that is a sight to behold. You're incredible, Dean...in all the ways that matter."

His eyes roamed your face searching for any sign of deception. When he saw none, he decided to seize the opportunity to ask you the only question he was dying to know the answer to..."What did you dream about?"

"What?"

"What did you dream about?" he asked again.

You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that you didn't want to tell him about the dream...about the life the two of you had shared...it was just that you were afraid. Afraid of how he would react, what he would think, what he would say...you weren't sure if you wanted to risk it.

You looked into his eyes for what felt like eternity. They seemed to swirl with emotion while silently begging you to tell him the truth.

You sighed. "I dreamed of a normal life...nice house, good job, friends, a fiancé...the whole nine yards."

His lips parted in surprise. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask, but he needed to know. "Fiancé?"

You nodded. "Yeah...I, uh--I was as surprised as you are."

"Is that what you want? A normal life with some random guy who doesn't really know you?"

"He wasn't some random guy," you admitted quietly.

"What?"

"In my dream...my fiancé was someone I know."

"Like in the real world?"

You nodded.

"Who?" Please don't be Sam. Please don't be Sam. Please don't be Sam.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to you or you wouldn't have dreamed it...the Djinn wouldn't have chosen him."

You hated that he was right and you didn't want to tell him. You were afraid it would ruin your relationship...you loved hunting with Sam and Dean. You loved traveling the country with them, hunting monsters, saving people, living in shitty motels...you loved it all, but most of all you loved Dean...and that was something you had never shared with anyone.

"It wasn't real," you whispered. "It was just a fantasy."

Dean decided to take a risk and he prayed he wouldn't regret it. "It doesn't have to be a fantasy."

"What?" you asked in surprise.

"If you tell him...maybe it can be real."

There was something in his eyes that gave you pause. After a few seconds, you realized it was fear. He was afraid of what you were going to say...and it gave you hope. Why would he be afraid of what you were going to say if he wasn't hoping it was him?

"It was you," you admitted quietly.

His lips parted and he inhaled deeply. "Me?"

You nodded slowly, suddenly unable to speak.

He stood up and crossed the short distance between you. He very gently pushed you back against the pillows and crawled on top of you, hovering mere inches from your face. "Do you love me?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. This was not at all how you imagined telling Dean how you feel, but you found yourself incapable of lying to him. "Yes," you breathed out.

"Say it," he whispered.

"I love you, Dean," you said softly.

He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against yours, his breathing labored and his hands shaking slightly. "(Y/N)..."

He stopped thinking then and let his body guide him. He'd loved you for so long--wanted you for even longer--and now he was finally going to have you. He pressed his lips against yours and kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips.

The kisses you'd shared with the fake Dean in your dreams were nothing compared to the real thing. Actual sparks flew, igniting a need for him deep within you. Your hands clung to his flannel shirt, pulling him even closer to you.

He moaned softly against your lips and you parted them to allow him entry. His tongue dominated yours in a passionate fight for power. His hands began to roam the soft curves of your body, eliciting low moans of desire from you.

"I don't remember a time when I didn't love you," he admitted against your lips. "I don't want to remember before."

Your heart seemed to sing at his words. Dean had always been a deeply emotional man--he felt things more strongly than anyone you'd ever known, but he bottled up his emotions and hid them from the rest of the world. Hearing him finally confess his deepest secret made you feel incredibly special.

"I love you so much, Dean Winchester. So, so much."

He smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

He kissed you again and you melted into him. His hands continued to roam your body, and yours did the same to his. A passionate need for one another had been ignited within each of you and neither of you could deny it.

You began to peel off his clothing and he did the same to you. The idea of being completely naked with Dean would have normally terrified you, but you could feel the waves of love oozing from the man above you. You knew you weren't the kind of girl Dean normally brought home, but none of that mattered--not when you could feel the love he had for you.

By the time you were both naked, you were overwhelmed with the desire to feel him inside you. He, however, had other plans. He began to slowly work his way down your body, stopping to show your breasts some attention.

"You know, I always loved these," he mumbled as he nipped and sucked at your breasts, earning sweet moans from you.

He continued his journey down your stomach, placing kisses to the scars and stretch marks littering your skin. You felt worshipped in a way you'd never experienced before.

Finally, Dean landed right where you wanted him, but he didn't give into you easily. His lips kissed along your inner thighs, appreciating the soft skin, biting gently to see your reaction.

Your breathing was ragged and you began to beg him to do something, anything. "Dean please," you murmured. "Stop teasing."

He chuckled lightly, but he didn't deny your request. His lips pressed against your core and he pushed your legs as far apart as he could without hurting you. His tongue darted out and licked a stripe up your pussy.

He let out a deep growling sound and dove into you like a man starved. He dug his fingers into your hips as he tugged you closer to him, feasting on you like you were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Your moans spurred him on, the sweet sounds like music to his ears. He could have happily stayed here between your legs until the end of time, but he had a feeling you would make him stop eventually.

Your fingers were interlaced in his hair and you were begging him not to stop. Not that he would have, but you didn't know that. "Dean...I'm so close."

He moaned in response, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. His tongue focused its assault directly on your clit and you cried out. Your legs began to shake and he could feel you nearing the edge.

He sped up his ministrations, earning another cry from your lips. Your hips bucked slightly and he shifted his arm to hold you in place. "Oh god!" you yelled.

You tightened your grip on his hair as you felt the impact slam into you, orgasming with a cry of his name. He worked you through your high, only stopping when you squirmed out of his grasp.

"Dean," you murmured as he crawled back up towards your face.

He kissed you softly. "I wanna be inside you so badly, baby," he whispered into your ear.

"Please..."

"I don't have a condom," he said softly.

"I don't care. I want you, Dean. Please."

He could never deny you, especially when you begged him so prettily. He lined himself up with your entrance and sheathed himself inside you with one quick thrust.

You gasped his name and dug your fingers into his shoulder blades. The feeling of him filling you up was enough to push you closer to a second orgasm.

Your pussy gripped him like an iron vice and he had to take a deep breath to control himself. He hadn't felt like this since he was a teenager. He needed to get a grip or he was going to cum embarrassingly early.

Your hips shifted beneath him and he hissed softly. "Dean," you begged. "Move."

He started to move and the sounds of wet skin against skin began to fill the room. Those were soon overpowered by your moans and his low groans.

"Fuck, baby...feels so good," he whispered. "Such a sweet, tight, little pussy."

You moaned and your pussy clenched even tighter around him.

He groaned and his hips stuttered to a stop. "You gotta stop doing that baby, or I'm gonna cum."

You grinned wickedly. "Isn't that the point?"

He nipped at your neck playfully. "Not until I get another one from you."

He started to move again, which wiped the smirk from your face in an instant. You wrapped your legs tightly around him, effectively locking him into place inside you.

"Normally I'd have you in a hundred different positions," he muttered, "but I wanna see your face when you cum. I wanna watch my pretty girl fall apart because of me."

Your pussy clenched and you moaned softly in response.

"Yeah? You like that? You like that I wanna watch you?"

You nodded.

"Words, baby."

"Yes, Dean," you gasped.

"That's my good girl."

You practically preened at the praise and Dean made a mental note of it for later. For now, he was focusing on drawing another orgasm from you and staving off his own.

"You're so tight, sweet girl. Feels so good."

Your moans spurred him on, forcing him to keep up his pace. He pulled himself up slightly, tugging your hips with him, allowing him to reach your g-spot with each thrust.

You let out a cry a pleasure that he knew he would die to hear again. He closed his eyes for a moment as he sped up, desperately trying to keep himself from cumming before you did.

"That's it baby, I know you're close," he murmured.

"So close," you cried out.

"I know," he whispered. "I want you to cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet juices."

Your legs tightened around his hips and your nails dug deeper into his back. He watched your face as you began to shake--orgasm mere seconds away.

"Eyes on me, baby," he demanded.

Your eyes flew open and met his gaze. You gasped--the intensity of it all pushing you over the edge. You yelled his name as you came, explosions of light flashing behind your eyelids as they fluttered closed.

He watched your beautiful face as you rode out your high with him. He shifted focus to his own quickly impending orgasm. His breathing became more ragged and you opened your eyes to find his again.

"Feels so good, baby," you murmured.

His eyes locked onto yours and he panted heavily.

"I know you're close, handsome. I want you to fill me up."

His green eyes widened. "You sure?"

You nodded. "I need it, Dean. Please." You clenched down on his cock to emphasize your words.

That was all he needed in order to reach his peak. He moaned your name as he started to cum, whispering it into your skin like a chant as he emptied inside of you.

You held onto him tightly as he came down, his body shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm. He finally collapsed on top of you, unable to hold up his own weight.

You placed a soft kiss to his head and listened to his breathing begin to regulate.

Eventually, he rolled off of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty. He managed to drag himself off the bed with a murmured "I'll be right back."

You watched him walk to the bathroom, and for a moment you worried he'd regret it, but your fears were assuaged by his reappearance with a wet washcloth.

Your face must have betrayed your thoughts because he knelt before you and said, "I love you, (Y/N), with everything I have."

You smiled. "I love you too, Dean."

He returned your smile and began to carefully and gently clean you up with the washcloth. It was warm and it felt nice to be cared for like that.

Once he was finished, he threw the washcloth into the bathroom and crawled back onto the bed. He tugged you close to him and pulled the covers up over you when you started to shiver.

"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you cum?" he asked softly.

You laughed lightly. "You would be the first."

He kissed your hair and tightened his grip on you. "I intend on being the last."

You turned your head to look at him and felt your heart melt a little. You didn't have a good response for that, so you simply kissed him, hoping your emotions were conveyed in the action.

He leaned into the kiss and whimpered slightly when your lips left his. You kissed him one more time and he let you pull away after several seconds.

"You should get some sleep," he murmured. "I'll keep you safe."

You knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would die to keep his word. You settled back against him, a silent response of trust and gratitude. He gave you a soft squeeze as you began to drift off to sleep.

This life might be hard...it might be full of pain and loss, but it was real. The man holding you in his arms was real. The love you felt for each other was real...and you wouldn't change any of it.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x plus!size reader smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x reader #plus sized reader

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walkinthrudaisies · 12 days ago

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Salt & Burn

dean winchester x fem!reader

837 | hurt/comfort, spn level violence

summary: after what you assumed to be a simple salt and burn goes completely sideways, dean is there to help you with not only your physical wounds, but your mental.

*based on this request

a hiss of pain breathed from your lips, eyes slightly watering as dean’s hands made repetitive motions of the thread and needle in your skin.

what seemed to be a simple ghost hunt turned into a full moon. which then turned into a werewolf prowling the land of the cemetery. dean had put a silver bullet in it’s head, but not before it had dug it’s long and grotesque talons into the flesh of your back.

no visit to the hospital was needed, but the excruciating pain as dean hauled you from the muddy ground to the impala was something you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. all you could recall was the feeling of a thousand knives in your back and the sound dean’s voice saying, “you’re alright. you’ll be just fine sweetheart.” coming out in murmured jumbles like you were underwater.

now, as you sat cross legged on the sink of the motel bathroom, you really cursed the moon and what it did to some people every month. you were facing the mirror, watching dean in the glassy reflection as he concentrated so heavily on the sutures you were sure his hand was going to cramp up.

you hadn’t spoken since you came back, and dean was starting to get worried. your face was passive, looking into the bathroom mirror like you could look through yourself. the look in your eyes had dean worried. you seemed like a shell of yourself. not that he blamed you, the werewolf attack was pretty gruesome.

the sensation of the thread being tied of jolted you out of the revere you were in. dean’s concern grew larger when you didn’t move a muscle as he suggested maybe ordering your favourite food and staying in. the physical wound on your skin was healed, but now dean needed to help mend the mental scar the werewolf left on your soul.

softly grabbing your arm and helping you down from the counter, the small whisper of dean’s breath on your ear murmuring ‘come here’ brought you out of whatever fog clouded your brain. your muscles were limp and lifeless as the man pulled you toward the motel bed. He could see to toll of the werewolf’s scratch on your face, and all dean wanted to do was make it better.

the plush yet dull comforter on the creaky mattress brought a semblance of comfort to your aching bones. dean sitting down beside you had the mattress dipping, a firm yet comforting hand being placed on your back and moved in comforting circles.

“everything is going to be okay.” he whispered, hands moving so his fingers were tangled in your hair. “you’re alive, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

a whimper tore from your lips at the thought. you were safe, but at what cost? head turning into dean’s chest, tears fell down your eyes as a sob racked through your body. “oh sweetheart.” dean murmured in the crown of your head, arms resting around your frame and hugging you close to his body. “it’s okay. i’m here, baby no one is going to hurt you.”

“i’m so scared.” you cried out, tears stains littering your cheeks as they kept flowing down your face. “i thought i was going to die. it hurt so bad dean, i didn’t know if i was able to hold on any longer.” your words left a piercing gape in dean’s heart. the thought of you dying broke him into pieces. even the thought of you believing you weren’t going to make it hurt his heart.

placing a delicate kiss on the crown of your head, dean felt his own tears fall down his cheeks. “but you made it. you were so brave honey. you held on for me, sam, and yourself.” the sobs had halted a little, but dean could still feel the tears falling onto his shirt. “you are so much stronger than you let yourself believe.”

“i could’ve got you and sam killed.” you said, looking up at dean through tear stained eyes. he hated himself for thinking such a thing at this moment, but dean couldn’t help but stare at your coloured eyes behind the glass like shield of tears. you looked so beautiful, and he couldn’t help but wipe away a tear that fell from your eye.

“but you didn’t.” he reassured, pulling you down so you both were laying on the mattress. side by side, he grabbed your hand and held on tight as you cuddled into his side. “sam and i are okay. you’re okay. no one expected that to happen. all that matters is you getting some rest.”

you weren’t tired, yet the motions of everything you’d been through in one night made sleep cling to you like a vice. with your head delicately placed over dean’s heartbeat, you fell asleep with the rhythmic thump of his heart as white noise.

“i love you.” dean whispered in your ear as you peacefully slept. “i hope you know that.”

#supernatural #imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural x reader #fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot

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bel1ewrites · 7 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe! (Sam Carpenter x Reader)

a/n: Long time no see......... Originally this was a Wanda Maximoff fanfic, but I needed Sam in a tank top again. ps. listen to Good Luck, Babe! by Chapell Roan if you want to understand this more or watch Stardew valley female farmer x Haley edits.

Description: You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: Bar bathroom sex, bottom!reader, top!Sam, farmer!Sam, internalized homophobia, brief kissing of men :(, angst, mentions of alcohol

IT was getting difficult to keep track of the number of shots you’d gone through, each one drowning out your regrets more than the last. The bar was stuffy. It was full of sweaty bodies and slurred words, Friday night drawing most people from town to wind down from a week full of work. It was always a risk coming here, you knew that.

She frequented this bar, sipped on whiskey and laughed lightly with the other farmers at the bartop. But you didn’t care. Besides, you weren’t there for her! You weren’t. You were there to find a new boy to distract yourself with, to spend the night next to.

The martini you’d ordered sat untouched in front of you, taunting you quietly as if reading your thoughts.

“Hey there pretty lady,” a voice called from behind you, raised slightly so that you could hear him over the chatter.

You turned on your stool, eyes met with a man. They all looked the same to you: like, well, men. This one had glasses, which was a good thing you’d supposed. He was handsome enough. His hair was dark, near black, and slicked back with a thick layer of gel. The thought of running your hands through the sticky mess made your stomach churn. Not because you didn’t like man hair! You just didn’t like gel, which was a valid reason that had nothing to do with his gender.

Running a hand through your hair, you put on your best smile and lowered your eyelids -a trick as old as time-. “Hi,” you said sweetly, offering him your name. His eyes lit up, beer hanging comfortably in his hand.

The background noise grew louder, hoots coming from a number of men somewhere behind you. A mixture of, “Took you long enough!”s and “Look who decided to show up!”s grabbing your attention. You brushed it off, stayed facing away from the ruckus and tried to focus on gel boy’s words.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said smoothly, eyes running down your figure. “I’m Har-”

“Alright boys enough!” a familiar voice shot out through the room, rasped syllables filling your ears and sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t turn around, wouldn’t. Your feet stayed planted as her laugh sparked your body to life.

You thought long and hard. Thought about what to do, where to go. You should stay, there was no reason to leave. And anyways, the night was far from over. The clock behind -Harley? Hardy?- the man read half past nine. No, you would stay and have fun with Har-what’s-it and you would go home with him if he asked and you wouldn’t think about a certain farmer with black hair and impressively skilled forearms. Forearms that were sculpted from lifting and plowing and planting. Forearms that you wanted to watch move as her hands found their way-

“Um, hello?” Har-gel asked, scratching his neck with his free hand. His cheeks were tinged with a slight pink. He seemed like a sweet guy, one who would marry a sweet girl and have babies with her. A girl who wasn’t you.

You grasped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down towards you with your back pressed against the bartop. “Can we makeout?” you asked, eyes flicking down to his parted lips. They were chapped a little. You looked away from them.

He didn’t hesitate, just placed his beer on the surface behind you and boxed you in with his arms, hips pressing to yours as he moved closer between your legs.

The kiss was fine. It tasted like beer and the stubble on his chin poked yours painfully. It was fine, his tongue was in your mouth and like, that was fine you guessed. He was respectful with it, hands not venturing from their spot behind you. You waited, kissed back, went to run a hand through his hair and thought better of it. You waited some more.

After what seemed like an eon, he pulled back. His cheeks were bright red and his glasses were foggy, lips a little swollen as his breath rushed out from them. You didn’t feel much of anything besides indifference. There was a pit in your stomach, one that you ignored entirely. It was probably something everyone experienced when they kissed a man, one that was meant to be pushed aside.

“Wanna get out of here?” Har-don asked, gazing down at you with a look that was definitely meant to be attractive, and probably would’ve been if not for the shots in your system.

“Yeah!” you said, smile painfully forced, “Just let me go use the restroom really quick.” he backed up as you went to stand, digging through your purse and setting two twenties down next to your drink.

Your legs carried you to the women's room, hands fussing with the tangles he’d made in your hair. The dress you wore was one of your favorites, one that screamed summer. It was the perfect length for going out, not too short but not too long. It flowed around you as you pushed the bathroom door open, sighing with relief when you realized you were alone.

When you met your eyes in the mirror, you couldn’t help but look away. You were ashamed, you felt like a fraud. The pit in your stomach grew, so you washed your hands to distract yourself. The water was cold as it rushed out of the faucet, soothing your overheated body and disarrayed mind while you watched it hit your skin. You stood there with your hands under the water for longer than normal, not even glancing up when the door opened.

Briefly, the sounds of the bar flooded the bathroom, fading as the door swung shut. Subconsciously you reached out, pushed on the soap dispenser and watched the foam fall into your dripping hand. You just needed a minute before you went back to the sweet man with the glasses, a second to collect yourself.

“Got a lot on your mind?” a woman asked from behind you. Well, not just a woman. The woman.

The woman who you shared your secrets with, who held you when you cried and listened to you say things like, “it's just not the way I am, Sam,” after the two of you got done fucking. She was the woman who made you believe in love, who showed you how colorful the world could be.

Her hair was pulled back, a few stray pieces falling messily around her face. It was still dark, but the summer sun had brightened it up a little bit. She was clad in her work clothes, tank top tucked into her jeans, boots laced perfectly. It was easy to tell what she’d been up to the past few months, her toned arms and tanned skin hinting at long days spent on the farm. You forced your eyes away from her figure in the mirror, looking back at your hands in the water.

“Nope,” you sighed, turning the water off and drying your hands. “Just freshening up.”

She huffed out a laugh, crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t blame you,” she admitted. “I’d wash my hands after that little show too.”

You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, movement halting momentarily, hands frozen in brown paper towels. You hadn’t meant for her to see that, not consciously at least. You just needed to distract yourself, just needed a minute to focus on something other than her.

“If you came in here to slut shame me, I’m not in the mood,” your voice was cold, eyes catching hers in the mirror. You still hadn’t turned to face her. You couldn’t

Her brows pinched together, lips parting to say something before shutting again. Her tongue darted out the wet them. She took a step closer. “I didn’t mean- well, I did, but I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “not like I care.” You shoved the paper towels into the trash can next to you and leaned into the mirror, running a finger under your lip to fix the smudges there. The reminder of the feeling of stubble against your chin made your stomach churn, but your face remained impassive.

You can hear Sam groan from behind you, probably pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer and thumb. “I hate when you say that.”

“Say what?”

She took another step closer, the sound of her boots hitting the floor sending shocks to your system. “That you don’t care.”

You stayed quiet, looked at yourself in the mirror. You saw a girl, a fraud, a liar. You saw your future flash in front of you, an unhappy marriage, nothing more than some man’s wife.

She was right behind you now, close enough that you could feel her presence like a promise. She put her hand on the counter, leaned forward until you could see her face in the peripheral.

“Look at me.” she pleaded lowly, desperation in her tone. It was impossible to keep your eyes from meeting hers. She stood behind you, arms at her sides and gaze burning into you. Her body pressed into you as you leaned away from the mirror, her hands falling to your waist. “Tell me you want me to go,” she sighed, burying her face in your neck and inhaling. You couldn’t help but fall further into her.

You said nothing, your own hands moving to grasp at hers and drag them up your body until she was hugging you from behind, breathing you in and squeezing.

“Tell me to leave,” her voice was muffled in your neck, lips moving against your skin as she placed kisses there like last resorts.

You shook your head, lashes fluttering as you gave into the feeling of her again. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, hands squeezing your flesh. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when she bit you softly, teeth digging into your jugular.

“Say you want this,” she spoke the sentence like a prayer.

You couldn’t manage the words.

“Tell me you want me,” She ordered, voice hard. Her breathing was heavy, you could feel her hands shake slightly from where they were pressed into you. “Say it or I’ll leave right now. I swear, I’ll leave and pretend you never existed.” The words were sharp and final.

All you could manage was a nod, brows drawn together in want. She moved, taking her face out of your neck and towering over you, though your height differences weren’t drastic. Her hands skated down your pelvis, landing on your hips and squeezing, pulling you into her.

“Use your words,” she pried, eyes dark and pupils blown.

You couldn’t. Your mouth was glued shut, it was impossible to say anything to her, impossible to do anything other than shake your head and squeeze her hands on your hips. You were so lost in her that you forgot all about the bar, all about the bathroom, the unlocked door. There was nothing but her. Her hands, her hair, her face, her mouth.

She moved her hand, pushing you forward with a grip on the back of your neck and folding you over the counter. Heat rushed through you, settling in the bottom of your stomach and making you close your eyes. The counter was fairly long, seemingly built for fucking on top of.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured you, her hand trailing down your back, the other still on your hip. “I’ll get you to say it.”

You let out a high pitched squeak, a mix between a whine and a sound of shock when she pulled the skirt of your dress up, pushing it past your lower back.

Her fingers ran over your skin, nails digging in as she dragged her hand lower and lower, pushing into you and leaning forward to speak in your ear. You moaned quietly, hips moving against the pressure of her still hand, seeking relief. “Would you have let him bend you over this counter,” she asked, kissing your shoulder. “What would he say if he saw this? If he saw you all desperate and needy for me, whining and begging for me to fuck you,” she looked at you, face pink and lips parted, and hummed.

When she started moving her hand you had to bite into your lip to keep quiet, so hard that you were afraid you’d bleed. Her fingertips pressed into your clit, moving in calculated circles just how you liked it. She’d always been so good at reading you, at figuring out just what made you tick, what made you need her.

“Please,” you panted when she slowed her hand, watching as she smiled menacingly from behind you before pulling the last layer of fabric down your parted legs. When she put her fingers back they were met with slick heat, the sound of her groan only making your need worse.

“Say it,” she said, running her fingers through you, feeling the way you wanted her. Her breathing stuttered when you let out a needy sound, her fingers pressing tight circles right where she knew you wanted them. It was too slow, you needed more.

You suppressed a moan, covering your mouth with your hand.

“You used to be so good for me,” she pouted, pulling your hand away from your mouth and holding it behind your back with her free one. “What happened?”

Without warning, she slid two fingers into you, pulling a deep moan from you, too loud for a public bathroom. Her fingers pushed down, finding the spot that only she knew before you could even comprehend it. She fucked you like she meant it, hard thrusts powered by months of pent up need. It was scary how fast she was able to build you up, how fast she got you panting and begging.

“Fuck,” you whined, straining your neck to look back at her for the first time, as opposed to her reflection in the mirror.

“Face forward,” she ordered, pounding into you harder, “look at how pretty you are, taking me like this. Tell me you want this, baby.” Her voice was dripping with need, the steady rhythm of her thrusts hauling you closer.

“Harder,” you groaned, pushing back into her and leaning up on your free arm. The fabric of your dress rubbed against your skin where it lay, the sensation was so dirty. You were being fucked over a bathroom sink, watching yourself get more and more pathetic as your ex buried her fingers in you.

Her thrusts grew softer, slower, enragingly delicate. “Say you fucking want me.” Her words were a stark contrast against the way she fucked you, the way she drew it out.

“Please, please Sam. I need it.” your mouth dropped open, little sounds flowing from it as she sped up again, fucking you just how she knew you liked it. Your eyes were closing of their own accord, struggling to stay open and watch as her muscles moved while she fucked you against a bar sink.

“Good girl,” she smiled, letting go of your hand to rub your clit again. You almost fell as the pressure inside of you skyrocketed, becoming almost unbearable. “Now tell me who you belong to.”

You couldn’t comprehend her words, too focused on the orgasm that was quickly approaching, preparing your body for the shock of it. “I’m so close, baby, I’m so close. Just like that.”

Your cunt was throbbing with need, finally reunited with the person who knew you the best. All those months of fucking yourself would never amount to the way Sam did. The way she commanded your entire being.

She stopped moving. All movement stopped. Her hands, her body, her mouth. You almost cried as her fingers stilled inside of you. The orgasm rushed away, dissolving into painful pleasure and disappointment.

“No, no. Why did you stop? Sam, why?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“Wha-” she started moving again, slowly rubbing a spot deep inside of you. You sucked in a breath. You were so turned on it hurt, wetness running down your thighs.

“Say it,” she stressed, fingers moving on your clit again, your orgasm sparked back to life, slowly building again. The longer you waited the faster she went, working you back up until you were on the edge, one move away from cumming.

“I’ll stop again and walk out of this goddamn bathroom so fast,” she growled over your moans. It was so hard to focus, you needed her so bad you couldn't breathe. "Who do you belong to? Who else fucks you like this?"

“You,” you choked out through a whine. Her thrusts sped up. You pulled her in with no resistance, clenching around her fingers and dripping with need “You. I belong to you, I’m yours. No one fucks me like you do, no one touches me like you do. Please let me cum Sam, please.”

The world seemed to pause when she leaned into you, kissing your neck and fucking you like you earned it. She was giving you all of herself, showing you who you belonged to and who you needed. Your brain was foggy, no sound came out of you as you came, cheek pressed against the counter and hands clenching into fists. Your elbow had given out, leaving you arched into the bar sink.

"That's it," Sam cooed, slowing down to fuck you through the wave of your orgasm, "You're so pretty."

Shock after shock hit, each one leaving you shaking even as she rested unmoving inside of you. "You did so good."

Your whole body was on fire, throbbing and twitching as you worked through it, Sam whispering praise in your ear.

She kissed your cheek, a sound of protest leaving you when she pulled her fingers out of you. You stayed still, your body moving with the force of your breaths.

"I locked the door when I came in," Sam smiled, rubbing your back soothingly.

You would ask her later, when you regained your ability to speak, how she knew to lock it. You would ask why she followed you, why she cared after you left her like she meant nothing. But for that moment, all you could do was lay there and listen to her love you.

#wlw #sapphic #lesbian #chapell roan #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #scream #screamxi #scream au #lesbianism #melissa barrera

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mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

Text

I trust you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: when Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help.

Words count: 3.5k

Warnings: angst and fluff, injury, wounds, low self-esteem, bucky has trust issues and needs a hug, touch starved bucky,

Author’s note: ugh just let me hold my baby and kiss his cute sad face omggg... anyways, idk why I rarely write angsty things, I really wanna do something new, so if you have any ideas let me know! 💘

It was almost eight o'clock in the evening when FRIDAY reported that the guys' quinjet should arrive at the compound within an hour.

Steve, Sam, and Bucky went on another mission to destroy HYDRA almost two weeks ago. As usual, none of you could get any news from them because they couldn't risk giving away their whereabouts.

It was foolish to assume that you weren't worried about them. Especially for one person. Bucky.

You and the former Winter Soldier met about six months ago when Steve and Sam first brought him to the tower. Steve was really worried about his old best friend, so before bringing Bucky to the tower, he talked with the team and asked all of you to give Bucky space.

Of course, you knew who he was from the day Steve found out that Bucky was alive. You have seen hundreds of reports and photographs on TV and on the Internet about The Winter Soldier, a ruthless killer who was always invisible but too damn good at his missions. He is the man who was turned into a weapon against his will.

When Steve introduced him, the whole team just nodded and shared awkward smiles, and Bucky himself kept his eyes on the ground. The whole situation was too intense, and no one, not even the funny and sarcastic Tony Stark, knew what to do or say. You actually thought that it might be rude to just stand there and look at him, as if he was a wild animal. Looking at this shy and uncomfortable-looking man before you, you knew that the smallest thing you could get him was to show that he was welcomed in this tower and that everyone was on his side. So, pushing away your own shyness and nerves, you stepped forward, holding out your right hand.

"Hi, my name is Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I hope you’ll feel comfortable around here." You offered your warmest and most sincere smile, trying not to show nervousness.

Bucky slowly raised his head, genuinely surprised that anyone else had actually spoken to him besides Steve. It's nice to meet you. When had he heard those words for the last time?

Your eyes met, and you could have sworn all the air was out of your lungs. His eyes were even more beautiful than in those rare, high-quality photographs. He looked truly beautiful, with long hair and blue eyes, even though you could see that he was tired—physically and even more emotionally. You stood for what seemed like an eternity, looking at each other's faces, until Bucky got a little nudge from Steve on the arm.

Only then did his gaze move to your still outstretched arm. He hesitated a bit, unsure if he wanted to be touched or feel someone’s warm skin. It’s been too long since another person wanted to touch him without causing any harm. Even Steve gave him minimal physical contact. Always through the gloves or thick jacket, and Bucky didn’t know the true reason for this—whether it was because Steve cared about his feelings or he just didn't want to do that. But then Bucky looked at you again, and he already knew that you would be his death.

You were so beautiful. Probably the most attractive person he has ever seen. It was still morning, and he assumed that you planned to have a day for yourself because you had no makeup, your hair was a little bit messy, and you looked really comfy in a big sweater and a pair of black leggings. Oh, and he definitely noticed your cute, fluffy pink socks. Your eyes were full of friendliness and comfort, so it made him want to trust you. Your lips curled into a warm smile, and he had no doubt that you wanted to make him feel comfortable on the team.

Bucky lifted the corners of his lips slightly, meeting your eyes again, and held out his right hand to you, still feeling awkward. Especially when the whole team around you watches your interaction too closely.

"Hi."

When the Quinjet landed on the territory, you couldn't calm your pounding heart. Natasha, who was standing a couple of steps away from you, of course, noticed your condition but didn’t say anything and just sent you a reassuring smile. She knew you'd calm down when Bucky was by your side.

Sam got out first. He looked tired, had a couple of scratches and bruises, but was generally fine.

"Sam! God, I'm glad you're okay." You said, running closer to him. "How is Bucky? And Steve? Are they okay?" Your worried eyes ran across his face, trying to find answers, but he only pursed his lips and lowered his eyes to the ground.

"Steve’s fine, and Bucky, um... I think you should see it yourself. And I think you need to have a serious talk with this idiot because he doesn't listen to us." Your brows furrowed, but before you could ask anything else, footsteps and stifled moans were heard behind Sam.

It felt like your heart stopped as soon as you saw him. Blood flowed from his temple and lip, and an already darkening bruise adorned his right cheekbone. Your eyes rushed down, trying to find all the damage, and then you saw it. Bucky kept his right hand on his left side. His entire palm was scarlet red as the blood passed through his thick suit and soaked through his fingers. Your mouth opened involuntarily, and your eyes instantly filled with tears.

Of course, this was not his first mission, but he always returned almost without any injuries or with something that quickly healed because of his supersoldier serum. It has never been so bad.

Before you knew it, you were already standing next to him. Tears flowed freely down your face, and you raised your hands up, wanting to touch him, but they froze in the air.

"Bucky…" You sobbed, looking straight into his eyes.

"Hello, doll" He smiled reassuringly at you, but you saw how he pressed his teeth together to ease the pain. He didn’t want to scare you.

"Bucky, God, wh-what happened? You need to go to the hospital wing. You’re losing a lot of blood!" You gently took his metal hand, but before you could lead him away, he removed it and moved away a little.

"It's all right, doll. Nothing that I can't handle on my own. Trust me, I’ve experienced worse."

"Buck, Y/N is right." You notice Steve for the first time because all your attention has been focused on Bucky since he appeared. "That punk cut you pretty deep; it needs to be stitched up."

"You know, I never go to the hospital wing." He purses his lips awkwardly, looking down.

Of course. Of course you knew it. Everyone in the tower knew that the Winter Soldier didn't like being touched or visiting doctors, and he had never asked for any kind of help. He always limited himself to a short handshake or a pat on the back from his best friend.

But you also knew that Bucky couldn't take off his clothes in front of anyone. Too many scars from bullets, knives, and other things that HYDRA used to torture him He confessed this to you one evening when you were sitting in the dark in the common room after his nightmare.

In those six months, you got close enough to him that he trusted you to sit with him in the stillness of the night and share his fears. But he still avoided touching and, of course, did not want to show his body to anyone. Even you. Especially to you.

You were one of the few good things in his life. Someone who genuinely wanted to spend time with him, who wasn’t afraid of him, and who was always kind and supportive. Bucky didn't want to lose you. And he knew that if you ever saw him with those ugly marks all over his body, you would run away without looking back. Because who would like it?

The hand that took hundreds of lives. The hand that was forever connected to his body left a big reminder that he was, in fact, just an experiment that went too well. He often looked at his shoulder in the mirror with anger and despair, wanting to get rid of this mixture of scars and torn skin. Obviously, when HYDRA put that prosthetic on him, they didn't care much about looks or pain, so they just hooked it on the way they did.

"Bucky, please listen to me." You sobbed, moving closer to him again. "I know you're afraid to go there, but please, you have to do it, otherwise, you'll lose too much blood or just get an infection." You hugged yourself with your hands as your body began to tremble with concern for the person in front of you. "It can leave a big scar." You whispered and saw that Bucky’s jaw clenched again. You didn’t want him to think that there was something wrong with having scars, but you knew that it was emotionally too hard for him to deal with them.

"I'm sorry, doll, but I can't," he pursed his lips, shaking his head, "you know I can't do it."

"Bucky…" you whispered as more tears started flooding your face. You were so focused on Bucky that you didn't even pay attention to your friends, who stood aside and pretended not to eavesdrop on your conversation.

"Don't cry because of me, doll, please, you don't have to cry." Bucky's voice lowered to a whisper as he worked up the courage to use his thumb to wipe a tear from your right cheek with a metal finger.

You took advantage of the opportunity, grabbing his metal wrist and pressing his hand closer against your cheek.

"Please, Bucky. Then let's go to your room. I can help you if you don't want to undress there.

"I don't think it's a good idea either, doll. You don't need to see it."

"James," you focused on his eyes, rubbing small circles with your thumb into his wrist, "it'll be alright, I promise. I'm not afraid of you. I won’t leave. I'll take care of you. Please do it for me."

You were hurt by his gaze. You've seen a thousand thoughts go through that head. Doubt, fear, uncertainty, and pain. He couldn't lose you. Couldn't lose what you had. Even if he wanted so much more, he was content just being around you. He couldn't lose you to a damn ugly piece of metal attached to him.

But you looked at him like your life depended on it. Tears were still running down your cheeks. You were hurt because of him. But you refused to give up and let his self-doubt win this fight. You continued to gently massage his metal wrist as you placed a light kiss on it. And he could no longer resist you.

"Fine."

"It's better if we do this in the bathroom," you said as you closed the door to Bucky's room behind you. You quickly walked past him, going into the bathroom and pulling out the first aid kit you knew was in the bottom drawer. You felt comfortable being a little bit bossy here, and Bucky didn’t mind it.

He quietly followed you, watching you with an unsure face. His blood was still soaking through his arm, but that didn't bother him as much as the fact that he'd have to undress in front of you and that at some point you would touch him.

Once all the necessary things were ready, you turned to face Bucky, already preparing to help him out. But as soon as your hands went up to help him unbuckle his suit, he staggered back, and you froze with your hands in the air. For a few seconds, you silently looked into each other's eyes, then you moved, trying to understand his reaction, and what you saw made your heart ache.

His brows were slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips were turned down. His eyes always told you everything that he tried to hide, and right now they told you how scared and insecure Bucky actually was.

"I don't think I can do it." Bucky whispered softly, casting his eyes down in shame.

"Hey James, look at me," you said, taking his face in your hands. "I'm your friend, you know? I won't hurt you. I won’t judge you. I won't do anything against your will. But I need to help you because I can see how much pain you're in," you sighed, running your fingers over his cheekbones. "I know it's hard. And I know you're scared or shy, but I'm here for you. None of this scares me, and I'll be as gentle with you as I can, okay? You can tell me if it becomes too much, and I'll stop. I promise." You could see the tears forming in his eyes, and you couldn't help feeling the pain that this beautiful man in front of you had been without care and affection for so long.

Bucky nodded slightly, giving you permission to continue.

"I’ll clean up your wound on the ribs, and then we can take care of your face." You carefully removed your hands from his, now placing them on the clasps of his suit. You opened them one by one, and when you finally got to the last one, you helped Bucky carefully remove that piece of clothing. Next on the way was a stretchy long-sleeve shirt, and by glancing at the wound, you could see that all the tissue around it was completely covered in blood.

"So, now I'm going to carefully lift up the shirt so you can take it off and not bother your wound too much, okay?" you asked, running your eyes over Bucky's face to understand his emotions. He took a deep breath, as if preparing for the worst, but nodded anyway.

You started to slowly lift up his shirt, helping Bucky pull his hands out one by one, and then tossed that no longer needed rag into the bathtub.

"Oh god," you muttered softly, looking at the wound that seemed to be even bigger now.

Bucky thought that you said it about his appearance in general, so he lifted his head up to the ceiling to stop angry tears from falling.

Come on, Buck, we need to sew this up so it doesn't leave a scar. Do you think you can sit on the counter next to the sink?" You looked at Bucky, but you couldn't meet his eyes. You knew that he was at the edge, his body trembled a little bit, but he still listened to you and silently jumped up on the free space near the sink.

"Bucky," you said quietly, trying to be as gentle as you could. "I see you right now, and I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?" You put your hand back on his face, making him meet your eyes. Before you could think, you placed your right hand on his chest, causing his eyes to instantly widen in surprise. His skin was very warm and silky, even though there were a lot of scars from different conditions. You gently moved your hand, showing Bucky that you’re not afraid, that you’re not a threat, and that he can trust you. "You're doing well, it’s okay," you said as you started rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder.

You backed off a little, finally picking up all the necessary things, and began to sanitize and then stitch up the wound. Every time you needed to put your hand on your skin, you felt Bucky instantly tense under your touch, but you tried to send him quiet words of encouragement and praise. Bucky was very quiet, not making a sound even when the needle pierced his skin. His face wasn’t in bad condition, and Super Soldier serum almost healed them, so you decided to only sanitize and clean his skin.

"Well, you did a great job, James. I'm proud of you." About twenty minutes later, you finally tied the bandage and began to put everything back in the drawer, but then felt a touch on your arm.

You looked back at Bucky, only to meet tear-filled eyes.

"No one has ever taken care of me in a long time, Y/N." You stepped closer to Bucky again, unconsciously placing your hands on his shoulders. "I feel ashamed of my body. Of that arm. I didn't want you to see those ugly scars. God, this is so pathetic—"

"Don't say that," you interrupted him. "That's not pathetic. I understand how you feel. That you have so many negative thoughts about yourself. But Bucky… God, I don't know how to properly say it." You paused for a moment, considering the words. "You're one of the most amazing people I know. And even if many people in the tower are scared or intimidated by you, for me, you are the sweetest, most caring, and most generous person. You remember every little thing I say, make me coffee and food when I'm too busy, pretend to like those shitty movies that I make you watch with me. I'm so sorry that so many bad things happened to such a good person that you feel unworthy of good things."

Suddenly, strong arms surrounded you, and you realized that Bucky was hugging you with arms wrapping around your waist. He nuzzled up to your neck, and you could feel light sobs. Gently, you entangled your fingers in his hair, massaging the scalp with calming movements.

"I don't deserve you, doll." Bucky pulled back a little, still keeping his hands on your waist. "I wish I could be normal for you. Be who I was back in the 40s. I would’ve asked you out and given you everything that you deserved. But that person is not here any more, and I'm not worthy of you."

He wanted to ask you out on a date? Your heart stopped as soon as the words left his mouth, and you stared at Bucky in surprise. "Bucky—"

"I know…fuck—I shouldn't have said that. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to mess anything up between us, I promise. I know you don't feel the same— it's okay, really. Just forget about—"

You didn't let Bucky finish by leaning forward and brushing your lips against his. His flesh automatically tangled in the hair at the back of your neck as the metal one tightened his grip on your waist. For the first few seconds, Bucky was in shock, not kissing you back, but just as you wanted to pull away, his lips began to move, taking over you immediately.

It was the best kiss you ever had. He was gentle yet so passionate. There were a lot of unsaid feelings that Bucky kept to himself for too long. All thoughts seemed to have left your head as the feeling of him filled your whole body.

When there was not enough air, you moved away from each other, touching your foreheads with your eyes closed.

"Fuck" was the first thing he said.

"Yeah," you laughed, finally meeting Bucky's eyes. He looked at you with such adoration that you felt butterflies in your stomach. You just noticed how much skin-to-skin contact you had. "Are you okay with that? Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?" You tilted your head as your hands squeezed his shoulders.

"That's... that's weird. I'm not used to that kind of contact," Bucky said, studying your face. "But I trust you, doll. You are the only person I trust completely." You felt him begin to gently run his hand along your back. "I'd like to ask you out on a date. I mean, if you want to. If not, I totally understand—"

You interrupted him again, leaving a quick kiss on his lips. "I'd like to go on a date with you, James. You know, you’re so cute when you’re shy?"

You've never seen his face so lit up with happiness, with a little bit of pink on his cheeks. Butterflies began to beat in your stomach again, and you realized that it was you who made him feel that way.

"Do you want to go to bed, put on some shitty comedy, and grab some food? I still have to watch over your injury."

"Sounds like a perfect plan, doll." Bucky kissed you on the forehead, interlacing his fingers with you, and led you to his room.

Even if it still required a lot of work, cuddling with Bucky, you knew it was the best place you could be.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n

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enchantedbarnes · 2 years ago

Text

Uncle Buck

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Summary: You take your nephew to a Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson Q&A event. The mischievous 8-year-old asks if he can get in line to ask a question. Against your better judgement you agree and let him go up by himself.

Word Count: 626

A/N: I had no intention to write anything on this account but here we are. Excuse the mess.

A young boy - 8 years old, dark hair and eyes full of mischief - walks up to the microphone.

"Hi, I have a question for Bucky..." He asks shyly.

The moderator nods, "What's your question for him, little man?"

The boy looks over at the seats nearby behind him and smirks, turning back to the stage with some more confidence this time.

"Will you marry my Aunt?"

The crowd let's out collective gasps, giggles, and awws. There's some cheering and a loud "OW OWWWW."

You inhale quickly and choke on your own air supply, trying to compose yourself. "BENJAMIN!!!"

You're horrified and shrink down in your seat while pulling your hood up over your head for added cover.

While you contemplate the fastest way to snatch the little traitor and get out of there as swiftly as possible you hear Sam's loud laugh echo through the room.

"I assume that was your Aunt and you're Benjamin?" Bucky asks while smirking.

Tiny traitor nods while grinning ear to ear. "I'm Benji, Auntie's name is Y/n and she thinks you're sooo handsome," he exaggerates with an eye roll, "and she's super fun and pretty and you'd be the coolest unc--"

Exit plan secured you jump out of your seat and rush over to cover his mouth and pull him back from the mic. Your hood still up and head ducked down.

"You said you were asking about the mechanics of his arm, you tiny little punk," you mutter at him but the microphone still picks up what you said.

While you have him secured in a headlock you quickly speak into the mic, avoiding all eye contact. "I apologize, I've never met this child before... I'm going to return him to the proper authorities immediately."

Picking your nephew up as quickly as you can, you toss him over your shoulder. His fit of giggles exploding while he tries yelling out again, "But he hasn't answered yet!"

"He's free later tonight, Aunt Y/n!" Sam shouts while you retreat to the back of the conference room towards the exit. "Your future family seems nice," he jokes while nudging Bucky's arm.

Benji tries to shout back across the room, "SHE IS FREE TOO!! EVERY NIGHT!!"

You shove the exit door open, "You're so dead. On my pick up days for school I will be blasting every embarrassing song I can find with the windows down. I'm going to start saving now and I will be buying every ad space available in your future yearbooks and I will be plastering them with your baby photos. And not the cute ones." Like this kid ever took a photo that wasn't cute.

***

The two of you walk around a food truck area set up outside the conference space. Benji is happily eating a pretzel you only bought so your sister wouldn't kill you for neglecting her child. You grab a seat at a small table to people-watch while he finishes up his undeserved treat.

You let your hood down, setting your vibrant and wild hair free. The color is easy to pick out in a crowd.

Benji is explaining in great detail the plot to a video game he has been playing with his friends and how one level keeps tripping them up.

The chair next to you slides back, "Is this seat open?" A deep voice asks.

Benji grins, "Yes!"

You already know who it is, but you're still startled when you look over and see none other than Bucky Barnes sitting with you and the small trouble matchmaker.

"So... is the potential cool Uncle position still available?" He smirks, hand on his chin looking over at both of you.

This little punk might be getting free pretzels and ice cream for life.

Alright folks! By popular demand, here is part 2!

Next: Uncle Buck Returns

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #uncle buck fic

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 days ago

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Old Blood, New Family

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

A/N: I set this during season 5 episode 16, the episode where the boys are in heaven reliving memories, and the sister is with them.

Requested by Anonymous

“Just keep going down the road, I guess,” Dean said. “We’ve gotta hit the end eventually.”

“Where are we?” Sam began to look around in bewilderment as the road turned into more of a tree-lined path.

“I know these woods,” you muttered to yourself. “But this…this can’t be right. This wouldn’t be in heaven.” You pushed through the trees, and it took the boys a moment to realize that you were straying away from them.

“Hey, wait!” Dean called after you, and both boys ran to catch up. “Whoa!” Dean staggered back in surprise when he caught up and got a good look at you.

“What?” You asked, frowning at him.

“You…don’t look like you,” Sam said.

You looked down, taking stock of yourself. You were a lot shorter suddenly, your body thinner and covered in bruises.

“Kid—“ Dean’s voice was low and gravelly, his eyes flashing with anger when he saw his baby sister hurt. “Where are we?”

“It’s—um—“ you had slowed down, your whole body tensing with every movement of the trees. “We’re close to my mom’s house.”

Dean grit his teeth—John had told Dean that he’d gotten you out of a rough home life, but Dean had never seen you banged up like this before—there was barely any skin showing that wasn’t bruised or cut, and you looked like you hadn’t eaten in days. Your hair was matted and greasy, like you hadn’t been allowed to shower—it wasn’t like you not to take care of yourself if you had the ability.

“Maybe it’s my heaven,” Dean spit out, his fist clenching. “Because I’d love nothing more than to beat the crap out of whoever’s in that house.” Dean jutted his chin out towards a house in the distance—your house.

“It’s memories,” Sam reminded him gently, although he didn’t look any less angry. He masked it quicker, however, and turned to you. “Let’s just keep walking—we don’t have to stick around here.”

“I just—I don’t know why this would be in my heaven,” you babbled. “I mean I-I never wanted to see this place again, and I thought that—“

“Hey.” Sam put his hands on your shoulders, snatching your attention. “It’s ok, forget about it. This whole place seems pretty screwy, let’s just go.”

“No no no.” You flinched away from the brothers when an angry voice yelled your name through the trees. Your body went into autopilot, sending you to the one place where you could feel safe. The boys tripped over roots and bushes as the struggled to keep up with you while you dashed and ducked through the woods, coming to rest only when you’d reached your haven.

A huge root from a towering oak tree created a wooden shield that you ducked behind, huddled among the leaves as you caught your breath.

“She’s coming she’s coming she’s coming,” you whimpered, rocking back and forth as you struggled to breathe.

“Hey, hey,” Dean soothed. “Kid, she’s not gonna touch you, I promise. She’s never gonna hurt you again, we won’t let her.”

“You can’t touch her,” you whimpered. “It’s my memory, remember? You-you can’t do anything.”

“I—“ Dean swallowed. You were right.

“What’s that?” Sam’s head shot up. “Did you hear that?”

“She’s coming,” you sobbed, burying your head in your knees.

“No, no, not her voice,” Sam insisted. “It’s—“

There was another voice calling out your name in the distance—a man’s voice.

When you heard it, your head popped up.

“Wait, I…I remember this,” you said, wiping your tears as your breath slowly got stronger. “She brought a man home again,” you breathed, glancing through the trees trying to see the source of the voice. “I-I had thought it was just another drunk one-night stand, so I ran for here. But-but when he found me…”

“There you are.” Your explanation was cut off by the appearance of John Winchester stepping around a tree. “Easy.” John held his hands up innocently. “I wasn’t tryna scare you there.” John took in the little nook you’d hidden yourself in. “I won’t tell your mom about this little hiding spot, I swear. I just wanted to talk to you. I…I don’t know what your mom has said about me, but I…I’m your dad, kid.”

You didn’t say anything; you just stared up at the man.

“Your mom, she…she didn’t want me to meet you,” John went on. “I had a bad feeling about that.” John took in your battered appearance. “It’s because she hurts you, right?”

You nodded timidly, remaining silent. The brothers just watched, unable to find the words; dad had never told them exactly how he’d gotten you, and they’d never imagined it would be this bad.

You flinched hard when your mother’s voice rang out again, closer.

“Hey, it’s ok,” John soothed. “I’m not gonna let her hurt you. Look, I know you don’t know or trust me, but I wanna help you. Nobody deserves to be treated the way your mom treats you. Now I can’t exactly go to the cops about this, because they’re gonna have a lot of questions about me that I can’t answer. So I need you to make a choice right now.” John placed his hand on your cheek, his touch feather light. You leaned into subconsciously—no one had ever been that gentle with you before. “You gotta choose,” John continued. “If you wanna stay here with your mom…or come with me.”

You swallowed hard, gaping up at John.

“My life’s not easy,” he added. “I move around a lot—I’ve got two boys, they’re a lot older than you, and I can’t promise you’ll always be safe, but…but I can promise that I’ll never hit you like she does.” John swallowed. “What’s it gonna be, kiddo?”

You stared up at John for a long moment, his rough but gentle hand still on your cheek. His soft eyes bore into yours, and he never once looked away, even as your mother’s voice got closer.

You threw yourself into John’s arms, almost knocking him off balance.

“Please take me away,” you whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes. “Dad, please take me with you.”

John’s arms tightened around you as he cradled your head in his hands.

“I’ll take you home, kiddo,” he breathed. “I’ll take you home, I promise.”

Dean noticed when the memory of John began to fade, and he rushed to take his father’s place, taking you in his arms as you started to cry.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “Sweetheart I’m right here, I got you.”

The woods had faded away, along with John and your mother’s voice and the bruises on your body.

“That was the first time I ever felt safe.” Your voice was muffled against Dean’s shirt as you refused to let go of him. “Dad saved me.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I know, kiddo.”

“We—“ Sam swallowed. “We have to keep going.”

“I’m ok,” you sniffled, finally pulling away from Dean, but still gripping his hand in yours. “I’m—I just…seeing him again…”

“Hey—“ Sam pulled you away from Dean long enough to wrap his arms around you. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry, I never knew…what it was like before he found you.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Your smile—albeit faint—was finally returning as you looked up at your brothers. “You guys are my real family.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely

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breannasfluff · 2 months ago

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Samantha Manson,

My teacher says that we must continue our correspondence. While she will not read our letters, she is trying to stretch the assignment longer. I suspect she is drinking in the evenings to deal with her life choices rather than creating lesson plans.

People treat me as special because I am special. That’s all there is to it. You are a fool if you don’t embrace the rights life has given you.

Amity Park? That sounds like a backwater in the countryside. What is your exercise, running away from cows? Not that cows are bad creatures, mind you. It’s only that I heard the hillbillies go cow-tipping for recreation. That seems like an activity you could do.

Painted nails would never ruin my image, only enhance it.

Ah, name-calling, the most childish insult in the book. Some of us have more experience in nine years than others do in 20. Just look at Gotham’s vigilantes!

Sincerely,

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne

~~~

Damian-stick-up-his-rich-butt-Wayne,

If no one is reading these then I don’t have to hold back.

Okay, listen here you brat: teachers are underpaid and have to put up with little monsters like you. No wonder your poor teacher is drinking; I’m not even legal and talking to you makes me want to start.

Hate to burst your bubble, buddy, but people only pretend to care about you because of your money. You lose that and what’s left? Some snobby little rich boy clinging to his daddy’s coattails because he has no personality outside his money and position.

You’re so right, Damian! All my life I thought I lived in a fairly normal Midwest town, but you’ve shown me the error of my ways! I’m just a little country gal out here collecting eggs and chewing on wheat. Ugh. You probably poach endangered animals on vacation and wear baby fox pelts when the temperature dips below 60.

I bet you are too chicken to paint your nails to say ROBIN SUCKS in purple glitter for the next formal event you attend.

Gotham’s vigilantes? Don’t even get me started on Nightwing! He’s the worst of the group. If you look up “trying too hard” in the dictionary, his photo is there. He doesn’t even take his job seriously! Why else would he move to a different city? Couldn’t compete with Batman and just had to be in the spotlight. It’s like those pop stars that go solo and fall flat on their face.

Man, how embarrassing. I think I actually feel sorry you have to claim that guy as one of your heroes. He does have a nice ass though, so it’s not a complete dumpster fire.

Also, stop calling me Samantha.

It’s Sam.

Sam

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#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #dcu #breannasfluff #sam manson #damian wayne #dp x dc crossover #my writing

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deepestnightcolor · 4 months ago

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First of all, I love the way you write it always helps me picture in my brain the scene so thanks for that~

I'll stop being mushy now hehe

I've been having thoughts about the fem!farmer having a profile on a site to look for hookups before moving to Pelican Town and forgetting about how she used to have spicy texts with Sam just to accidentally meeting him on the streets of her new town while going on a stroll 😏 hehe

Anyways! Have an amazing day!!!

ᴀ/ɴ: IT MIGHT BE FINALS SEASON FOR ME (please, end me) BUT THAT DOESN'T STOP ME FROM KEEPING YOU ALL FED IN ADDITION TO THE OTHER GLORIOUS MEALS YOU MAY CONSUME HERE. Thank you so much for the praise, lovely, it means THE WORLD. I hope you forgive me that I gave this story a little twist, and that you enjoy nonetheless!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3789 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: sexting, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, slobber, pierced dick (I said it and I will say it again, fight me), mutual pining, you are being pounded~, cream pie.

☾ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ ☽

Sometimes you still read them. Read them when you were touching yourself beneath the sheets of your bed, read them when you wanted to get in the mood. Sometimes you still read them when you needed a little inspiration, but it was a fact that you still read them.

Normally, you deleted every conversation you had had on that website. But the ones with him had been so… entirely different. It wasn’t like you had been looking for something when you signed up on a site that promised quick, anonymous chats. Chats that could be easily discarded and forgotten. Messages that had one purpose; to still the one’s lust and then move on. To put it simply, a website that promised horny people to meet other horny people, whether it stayed digital or became real was none of their business.

You had never wanted any of this to become real – you were happy to play around with someone and be played around with when you laid in bed, all bored and horny. You were satisfied by being told how good you would be railed, happy with empty promises of being treated like a goddess. Comfortable with sharing some pictures – of course well-placed pictures, hiding details that would enable being recognized, never showing your face. At least you had been happy with building castles in the air until you had met him.

You had stumbled across him in one of the forums, a man showing off his upper body with a sense of pride radiating from his posture alone. He had accompanied the image with a simple line of text: “I am missing my muse.” Usually, you would have rolled your eyes and scrolled past in search of something spicier, dirtier. But something about him had made you click faster on that username than you would have ever liked to admit, sliding into the chat with him with a sense of despair in your chest: >If you treat me well, I could be your next muse.<

Your text had started a message of the sexiest texts you had ever received, and you didn’t even fucking know why. “SkAterdreaM” just seemed to know how to press your buttons. Guiding you to touch yourself with such a sense of precision, praising you just right. >That’s a pretty girl…Are those thighs twitching just for me? Yoba, Id love to kiss them, fuck you right until they are shaking because that’s what you deserve. Deserve to cum over and over again. Come on pretty baby, lemme hear those moans< >You make me so hard, fuck. I am drooling for you< But not only that – he added those videos. Fuck, those videos. You were pretty sure he had always put on a show for you with how he squeezed his cock, milked the pre-cum right out of himself. With how he let out these quivering, shaky gasps, moaning praise right into the microphone. “Look at what you are doing to me, princess- ah, fuck~ I wish you were here with me, gorgeous... I’d let you ride me right now, bounce on my cock… Are you touchin’ yourself for me, sweet girl? Rub that clit for me, yeah? Slooowly, I want you to go slow, just like this- you are going to be good for me, aren’t you?” Reacting perfectly to the videos you were sending him, picking up on little details not even you had been aware of. >Look at those pretty lips, all bitten-up... Feelin so good, baby? You make me wanna kiss em all better, gorgeous< Making you feel seen, heard, and appreciated. And the worst of it all? He wasn’t even there with you.

In all honesty, you had rarely ever come as hard as you had that night, and you hadn’t been able to find anything like that chat on that website since that night. And you had really tried. Texting men and women alike, talking to them, desperate to replicate what you had had with SkAterdreaM, but you always ended up disappointed, always ended up in that chat again and you always ended up disappointed when that last message smiled at you. >You were the prettiest muse I could ever possibly find.<

And damn how you wanted to find SkAterdreaM. Even now that you lived in Pelican Town did you sometimes read that chat, in hopes that the green button next to his name would indicate him being online, would allow you the chance to talk to him again, but you were always denied. It felt like Yoba had given you a gift, just to take it away from you again, leaving you in the bliss of it all and grieving the loss of it. How could life be so cruel?

You had tried to coax him back online, too. Sending pictures, all too pretty pictures. Of you in lingerie, which, you had to shamefully admit, were bought with him in the back of your mind. Of you cupping those pretty tits he had praised the whole night. Of you posing for him. But nothing. SkAterdreaM stayed offline.

But then, one day, you heard it. That voice. It immediately sent your body into a state of tingling sensations, skin burning up, heart pounding. You knew that voice. It sounded a lot less shaky and a lot less raunchy, but you knew that voice. Fuck. Were you going crazy? Had your insatiable need to meet that random-ass man again manifested into a psychosis? Maybe you should visit the town’s doctor, but what would you say? “Hey, I had a really great online sexting session, and now I hear the dude’s voice in real life, please help”? Maybe someone just had a- “Stop it, Seb, or I will kick you in the fucking nuts,” the voice laughed, sending a shudder rippling down your spine. You couldn’t believe it, yet there he was. The source of the voice was making his way toward you – well, more likely toward the saloon behind you, but fuck it – laughing with a man walking next to him.

“Oh! Hi, you must be the new farmer,” he smiled once he noticed you, and you were pretty sure you were just about to topple over, lip quivering. Could this really be? Could you have moved into the same town this online phantom was living in by accident? Was someone playing a cruel joke on you? Nevertheless, you were staring. Staring hard. What were words again, and how did you use them?

“Hi, I-“ -met you on a website for sex and fuck, I missed you. Before your tongue could release the word vomit onto the poor blond you snapped shut your jaw, trying to cover your tracks with an awkward smile. However, something in his face had shifted. A hint of recognition in those blue eyes – Yoba, he was handsome -, but they were definitely flooded with disbelief. A knock in his ribs coming from the man next to him made him stutter back into motion.

“Sam,” he choked out, mirroring that awkward smile on your lips. You gripped his offered hand, your breath hitching into your throat, making it near impossible to breathe out your own name.

“You remind me of someone,” he suddenly started out, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “a muse I met a while ago.” “What the fuck, Sam? Leave the poor girl alone,” the dark-haired man – Seb? – laughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. Little did he know that Sam had said just the right thing. “No worries, you remind me of a dream I had,” you shot back, making a small grin appear on his pink lips. “I will see you around then? I have made a few promises.” “Definitely.”

The way your lips crashed together could only be described as heavenly. Sam hadn’t even really taken the time to close the door behind himself before he had already wrapped you up in an embrace, fingers running through your hair before gently cradling your head. You couldn’t help yourself but moan into the gentle suckle of his lips, your body melting into him like it knew where it belonged. “Fuck, I thought I would never find you again,” he breathed, leaving your lips only for a second to gently nip at your jaw before going right back to your lips. His tongue lapped at the fat of your lower lip, greedily pushing past your teeth to lick over yours, his hands now wandering down your back. The feeling of being desired cursed through you just as much as the feeling of desiring him, your own hands wandering beneath the white shirt he was wearing to feel the smooth skin of his toned stomach. “Same,” you gasped out as he pulled away just enough to let you breathe, “I kept texting you,” you stammered, your lips kissing along his neck, savouring that breathless groan that left his already swelling lips, “but you never replied.” “I lost all access to that account,” he breathed back, his own hands now slipping beneath your shirt, small moan escaping him as they engulfed your tits, “fuck, baby. They feel just as pretty as they looked.” Yoba, he loved that giggle that left you. He had loved everything about your encounters. The way you had reacted to him, the way that you had moaned for him. The way you had begged for more, even though he just couldn’t give you what he had wanted – which had been everything. He had absolutely loved your voice cracking, the way you bit your lip as your hips bucked. The way your thighs quivered. It had been burnt into his mind, lending him a hand whenever he fucked his fist. It should have embarrassed him – an online encounter absolutely possessing his mind, but it didn’t. He had cursed heaven and hell when he had realized that he had lost access to that fucking account, and thus to you. “Believe me, I tried to get back into it,” he sighed, big hands squeezing the flesh in his hand, pierced tongue licking along your throat, just to ease the following blow of his teeth sinking into your pretty skin, “but I couldn’t for the life of me.” And really – he had tried. Even asked Sebastian if he could regain the access he had lost, even though it had set him up for a lifetime of mockery. Your answer was a mere whimper, one that made his pants way too fucking tight. He had never been this hard ever since that night, but now- now he could touch you.

“Pretty princess,” he sighed, hips rutting into you almost automatically. Yoba, feeling you after dreaming about you for so long – it made him feel like he could come right now, like he could cream his pants just because he felt your hands wander down his back, nails scratching along him ever so slightly. Yoba, he needed you.

Even though it physically pained him to pull his hands away from your nipples, he did. Just in favour of pulling down the fabric of your pants. He needed to see you. All bare, just for him. His breath hitched when he saw your panties, adorning your pubic mound in a way not even the most skilled artist could have painted. His whole body quivered as his long fingers reached out for you, brushing the calloused pad along the still clothed skin. He could hear the slight thump of your head falling against the wall behind you as you took in a shaky breath, and he wanted to cry tears of joy. He could have you now, all for himself. The realization made every ounce of patience he had promised himself to have evaporate, instead his fingers curled into the fabric, giving the thin layer of clothing a good tug. “So wet for me already, princess?” he all but cooed, holding your underwear up to your face, a wet spot beaming right at you. “Shut up,” you laughed, albeit a lot more breathless than you had been at the beginning of this, running your hands down his body. “You are not much better, SkaterDream.” Sam’s hips almost involuntarily bucked forward when your fingers brushed along the outline of his erection, eyes rolled back in his skull. Why did your fingers feel so much better than his whole fucking fist? Shit, you had ruined masturbation for him – but he just couldn’t be mad at you. No way, not when you looked up at him like this, doe eyes glazed over with lust, lips puffy from the rough, hungry kisses the two of you had shared.

Just looking at you made his balls pull tight, red tip of his dick drooling pre-cum into the black of his boxers. You were right, he wasn’t much better. His eyes drifted shut as you fisted at his poor dick now, making it cry for release from its restraints. “You are so beautiful; you know that darling? So damn beautiful,” he sighed, allowing your hands to unbuckle his belt with a clinking noise, his own working to slide your shirt above your head. Normally, he would have brought you upstairs, laid you on the bed before he would have taken his sweet times, but right now, he felt like he was starving right in front of a meal. He struggled out of his pants while he pushed up your bra, lips latching on your sweet nipple, letting the moan that left your sinful lips go through his whole system, savouring the way his dick twitched. “That’s right, baby, moan for me,” he coaxed, flicking a finger against your clit. Just lightly, to gauge your reaction. And oh, did you deliver. Your hips bucked forward almost immediately, back arched in in an attempt to get closer, to get more, more, more. Your eyes were half-lidded now, your cleavage flushed, as your lips mouthed wordless begs. How could Sam resist?

He couldn’t. His boxers pooled around his ankles just to be kicked away, pierced dick meeting his stomach with a wet smack. The moan that came from you upon revealing his girth almost sent him toppling over, legs shaking slightly as he slid it between your folds. “What is it, baby? Do you like my dick? Is it good enough for your pretty pussy?” His hips rocked back and forward now, coating his perverted shaft in your slick, eyes never leaving your face as he awaited your response. The nod you gave was small, but the look in your eyes was enough to make him drool. Tears welled in them, just about to slip down those flushed cheeks, so full of desire and despair that he felt like they were mirroring his soul. When the pierced tip caught your twitchy hole, both of you gasped out loud, making Sam’s hips work faster, bumping against your entrance over and over. He adored the wet sounds the two of you created, the way you moaned in his ear, and oh Yoba, how you bit those pretty lips again. He just had to – had to kiss them better, had to aim for your clit, had to please you. “Sam,” you suddenly gasped, making his head snap up, taking his focus away from how pretty your pussy looked with his dick teasing it. “Yes, baby? What do you want? Tell me, princess.” “Fuck- Sam, please- fuck me,” you mewled, head again bumping into the wall. Another fat glob of pre-cum leaked out of him, and he was pretty sure he had sold his soul to the devil – how else could this be true? But you were his muse, his pretty, pretty princess, that made his balls hurt so good, so if he had actually sold his soul, he would have done it all over again.

“Do you need me, baby? Want my dick to ruin your sweet little cunt? Yeah? That’s what you want?” Another bump against your clit, another tease at your hole, and yet another glob of pre-cum coating your folds. “Yes, Sam! Fuck, PLEASE.”

That had definitely done it for him. Greedy tip lining up with your drooling hole, his eyes searched your face once more before he pushed forward. Feeling your drenched walls wrap around him, Yoba, he wanted to weep. His dick surely did. You were so beautifully wet around him, greeting him with a squelching sound as your walls stretched around him. If his brain had been working until now, it most definitely had short-circuited at right this moment and had left his mouth hanging open, spit dribbling down his tongue and on your gorgeous tits. You weren’t in much better shape – Sam was big. Girth stretching you absolutely thin, making you feel like you were going to rip in half, but fuck, did it feel good. His pierced tip bumped against your walls, and you could feel him pulse inside of you with each push forward.

“Y..you..you okay?” he whispered as he was about halfway in, nodding at the small nod you gave him. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. So good. Fuck, you feel so good. Better than I could have ever imagined, babe,” he babbled, strings of spit landing on your skin with almost every word. “Sweet, sweet girl. Taking in my dick like a perfect little slut, I am gonna move again now, ‘kay? Gonna take all of me, princess?”

You didn’t have any other option than nod – it felt like with Sam’s dick entering you, all the words you had ever learned had left you. Not that you minded, what he gave you was so much better. He fucked his dick further into you, moaning your name in the most strained, beautiful way as he bottomed out. “Good fucking- Good girl, so good for me. Don’t deserve you, darling,” he yapped, beginning with a slow and steady pace. That didn’t last long, though. Your moans were just so beautiful, you see? Sam really did try, though! Really tried to keep slow and go easy on you, but there was just no way to do so when you sounded like this, when you scratched your fingers down his back like this. When you whimpered and bucked into him like this – no, he just couldn’t.

He fucked into you like you deserved, like you had always dreamed of. Giving you quick and hard thrusts that reached deep, tip bullying into you mercilessly. Sam wasn’t able to get enough from seeing you like this, with your mouth either hanging open or closed as you bit your lip, seeing you being ruined by his dick while your tits bounced for him – it just was so delicious. “Fuck, baby. You are suckin’ me off, does it feel good? Do ya like my dick pounding that cunt? Do ya like how I make you mine? Tell me, love. Use your words.” His fingers wrapped around your chin, making you look at him as he thrusted at a rough pace, keeping eye contact as your pussy squelched for his throbbing dick. You smacked your lips together, once, then twice, trying to answer these simple questions, but it was just so hard when it felt like the ability to speak was hogtied by the feeling of your building orgasm. “Can’t hear you, sweets. But look at you, bitin’ your lip again, ya love this, dontcha?” He cooed, licking along your throat, down your cleavage, just to lap and nip at your nipple while his thumb rolled over the other. “Still, I wanna hear you, let me hear those words, c’mon. I know you can do it.” Just to underline his words, he gave you an especially hard thrust, making you gasp out his name, followed by a babbled string of “yes”’s. “That’s it, love. That’s it. Knew you could do it,” he cooed, eyes watching how greedily your cunt sucked in his dick. Yoba, he was close. So, so close. The thought of filling you up made his balls pull again, aching for that sweet, sweet release. He needed you to cum, drench him, cream his cock – he just needed you to.

His tongue lulled out of his mouth, spittle landing on your already damp skin as he pounded into you. His thumb found its spot on your clit again, flicking and rubbing it in circles that matched the pace of his thrusts. “Sa-Sahaaam!” You sobbed, voice edging in a high pitch as your stomach swirled around that approaching high. “What is it, baby? Gonna cum for me? Please, cum for me. Drench me, I want it all, make a mess of me.” His words only added to the building pressure within you, the room suddenly seeming to spin, the only thing that stayed in frame being the blond that fucked into you as if his life depended on it. Your moans no longer consisted of anything cohesive, only the high-pitched edge announced your nearing orgasm. Sam picked up on it, fell right in love with it and obeyed, keeping his pace a steady, hard fuck, thumb massaging your aching clit in a way that made your thighs twitch. You tried to tell him that you were going to cum, you certainly did, but all that left your mouth was a sob, followed by a small whine before your back arched in, legs full-on shaking as your orgasm wrecked through you.

Your hole spasmed around Sam’s already pulsing dick, gush of juices creating a creamy ring around the base of his shaft. He wanted this image of you to be forever etched into his brain, wanted it to be one of his core memories.

The look you gave him was enough to send him over the edge himself, red tip spitting ropes of cum inside of you, filling you up with each thrust. Sam just couldn’t stop, the need to fuck it deep inside of you possessing him as he pounded away, wanted to mark you as his and only his.

Only when his balls felt so incredibly empty did he slow to a stop, panting for hair like a dog in heat. Looking down at you, you weren’t in much better shape. You looked wrecked. Body flushed still, covered in his drools and lovebites he had left while he had been fucking into you. You were still shaking lightly against him, your eyes holding a fucked-out gaze that made his knees weak. For a while, the two of you just looked at one another as you panted, Sam’s hand carefully trading through your hair, the other working on holding up your tired body.

After a while, Sam dared to speak again. “So…I know we met on a website for sex, but…could I maybe take you on a date?”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #sdv fanfic #fanfic #sdv sam #stardew valley smut #sdv sam x reader

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