#save me sammy in a tight dress

[vampzmeel]

i had a thought a while ago about sam wearing dresses like rowena's after her death in s15 and i have finally put that to digital paper >:]

[shanastoryteller]

Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

[mxltifxnd0m]

twitches ⊹ s. winchester

summary: you noticed that sam twitches in his sleep

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

word count: 974

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, mentions of nightmares, teasing, one suggestive comment

a/n: wanted to write a little blurb about sam twitching in his sleep because my headcanon is that he does and i saw a video about it on instagram LOL

enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You exhaled sharply as your eyes snapped open, breathing slightly heavier than usual as you tried to blink away the images that were burned into the back of your eyes. The room was shrouded in darkness; your eyes could barely make out the dresser that was across the room. Your body was wound up tight before the arm that was wrapped around your waist reminded you where you were, and you sank into their arms. 

Sam’s arm tightened around you, his warmth reminding you that you were safe and sound in the shared room with him in the bunker. You took some deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. 

You didn’t know the details of the nightmare, the images slowly disappearing from your memory as you calmed down. Drowsiness riddled your mind, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter shut, your mind slowly slipping into unconsciousness. But before you could, you felt Sam’s body jerk against yours, his arm flexing against you, making your eyes open again. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Sammy?” You whispered softly into the near-silent room, save for the low whirring coming from the small vent in the ceiling. 

All you got in response was a soft snore that escaped his lips as he continued to sleep. You huffed a small laugh through your nose before shifting closer to him, feeling his chest against your back as you let the comforting embrace of your boyfriend lull you back to sleep. 

Your eyes closed and you could feel yourself teeter on the line of consciousness and sleep, but Sam’s body almost violently twitched against you again, making your eyes open again. You let out a low groan before slowly moving further into Sam’s embrace, shoving your face into his chest, wrapping an arm around him, and nuzzling into him, hoping that his body wouldn’t twitch again. 

Another soft snore left Sam, and his arm unconsciously wrapped around your waist even tighter, bringing you closer to him. Your legs tangled together, not knowing where he started and where you ended. You finally were able to go back to sleep, letting the familiar scent of Sam flood your senses and sleep. 

“You twitch when you sleep.” You told Sam as you stood at the stove cooking lunch for the two of you. 

You could see out of the corner of your eye that Sam was whipping his head from cutting the tomatoes on the cutting board to you. 

“What?” He asked, confused. You could imagine the crease that probably had formed in the middle of his brow, but your eyes were trained on the chicken that was cooking in the pan in front of you. 

You turned off the burner, took the chicken off of the pan, and grabbed another cutting board so you could chop them up for the salad that Sam was prepping for the two of you. 

“Sam, you twitch when you sleep.” You repeated, beginning to cut up the freshly cooked chicken. 

“No I don’t.” 

You chuckled lowly at Sam’s indignant tone. You threw the cut-up chicken in the spare bowl to be tossed into the bigger one that held all of the vegetables with the dressing. You quickly placed the cutting board and knife in the sink before turning to Sam, smiling to yourself when you saw the furrowed brow and pout on his face. 

“Trust me you do.” You gave his ass a light slap as you walked past him to grab the dressing from the fridge. 

You heard a huff and a mumble come from Sam as he continued to chop up the last few tomatoes and threw them in the bowl. The two of you made the salad in silence before you guys sat at the table and began to eat lunch. 

“Do I really twitch when I sleep?” Sam questioned after taking a bite of his salad, breaking the comfortable quiet that had settled between the two of you, save for your forks clinking against the porcelain bowls you were eating out of. 

You looked at Sam, who was sitting across from you. You nodded. “Yeah, I never noticed until last night.” 

“Last night?” 

“Mhm, I woke up last night, and when I tried to go back to sleep you twitched pretty violently against me.” He didn’t do it violently, but you wanted to tease Sam a bit. 

Sam scoffed. “I don’t think I twitched against you violently.” 

“You sure about that? I mean you weren’t the one who felt it.” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

Sam looked at you unamused, making you laugh gently at his expression. 

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t violent, but the matter still stands, you twitch when you sleep.” You tell him as you take a bite of your lunch. 

Sam shook his head. “Whatever.” 

His reaction made you smirk. “ It’s completely normal, I just wanted to tell you that you do since it kept me up last night.” 

“You sure it wasn’t the fact that I had fu-” 

“No! It was after that.” You cut him off, feeling the heat rise on your cheeks at the almost mention of what the two of you were doing before your nightmare woke you up. 

It was Sam’s turn to smirk at your flustered state. “It’s cute when you blush.” 

You pretended that your stomach still fluttered at his compliment and rolled your eyes. “Shut up and eat your lunch.” 

Sam chuckled, and the two of you ate in relative silence. Once you guys were finished eating, you put away the leftovers and worked together to clean the dishes. 

As you were drying your hands, you felt a damp hand on your shoulder before you felt Sam’s lips near your ear. 

“If I twitch in my sleep, then I’ll admit I hear your little moans when you’re having a good dream.”  

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[loki-laufeyson223]

Friday Night: Dean Winchester (This Damaged Soul of Mine)

Warnings: Amazing Dean in the beginning, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos), really sweet aftercare (cause that's a warning all in itself)

Word Count: round bout 3k

The Loki version of this story is here!

Friday Night: Loki Laufeyson

The first thing that greets me in the morning is my loud alarm ringing in my ear. I reach over and shut it off immediately, though I know I need to get up and get ready for work but God, I really don’t want to. It was 4:30 in the friggin morning. Usually I would turn to my husband, if we weren’t already in a tight embrace, but today he was in Claremore, Oklahoma dealing with a nasty wendigo. Dean had left sometime yesterday right after supper, which was pizza. I would normally go on those kinds of hunts with Dean but hunting doesn’t pay the bills. Getting up at the crack of dawn and leaving an hour later to go work at the children’s clinic here in Lebanon, however, does.

I reluctantly rolled out of bed and grabbed some clothes to put on after my shower. After I got out of the shower I shook my long blonde hair out with a towel and got dressed in black leggings and my favorite green and black flannel. I stalked my way to the kitchen in the bunker to fix some coffee, which I call liquid fuel, and fix some breakfast. I put on my favorite playlist of old rock, some of The Beatles, and maybe some Elvis. My brother-in-law, Sam, was still on his daily run but I knew he would be getting back soon. So, I went ahead and grabbed four eggs from the fridge and put some butter in the pan I already had heating up on the smallest eye on the stove. After the eggs were cooking on the stove the coffee machine went off and I grabbed my favorite Led Zeppelin mug and poured the hot black liquid into the cup and grabbed the vanilla creamer and poured just enough in for the smallest bit of flavor. Dean always said he hated creamer in his coffee but the day after I brought it home it was already open and used. He tried to blame it on Sam but we both knew that was a flat out lie.

“Hey De?”  “Yeah Sweetheart, what’s up?”  “Who got into my new creamer?”  “Uh….. I don’t know. Have you asked Sammy?”  “Yeah he said he hadn’t gotten any. He’s been drinkin’ Eileen’s.”  “What ‘bout Cas or Jack?”  “They can’t taste.”  “Oh well it wasn’t me if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”  “Yeeeaaahhh. Ok, sure hun.”  He got up from his spot at the bench and came over to me. “Don’t you need to leave for work?”  “Oh yeah. Crap.”  Leaning down so I can angle my head up to reach, he presses a soft and lingering kiss on my lips.  “Bye De.”  “See ya later Sweetheart.”  As soon as I walked out of the kitchen Sam came up to me. “I saw him pouring it into his coffee earlier.”

Smiling at the memory, I walk over to the oven and take the pan off of the stove and set it on a hot pad. I was grabbing a plate from the cabinet when Sam walked in still sweating a little from the long run back home. “Hey Scar.”  “Hey Sam. How was the run?”  “It was good until another runner came up beside me with their kid.”  “What’s so bad about that?”  “The kid grabbed the string connected to my headphones and pulled it out of my phone somehow.”  “Ah, I see. Everyone heard your Celine Dion.”  “Uh, no. I don’t listen to her.”  “Yeah, sure. Cut the crap we all know she’s your favorite.” He rolled his eyes at my comment.  “Anyways, I made eggs and coffee.”  “Great. Hey, by the way is Eileen up yet.”  “No but I heard her alarm go off when I got up.”  “Ok thanks.”  “No problem.”  He went over to the cabinet of coffee mugs and grabbed the one I got him for Christmas with a moose on it and it said “So get this”. “I thought you used that for target practice.”  “Eileen talked me into keeping it.”  “Well then thank you Eileen.”  “You’re welcome.”  Suddenly Eileen walked into the kitchen. Last Christmas Sam saved up enough money to get Eileen a cochlear implant, so she could hear and communicate with Dean and I since we didn’t know ASL. Sometimes I forgot she had it. Sam walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her shoulders then pulled away to press a kiss to her forehead. “Mornin’ Clover.”  “Hey Sam.”  I sat down with my plate and coffee and grabbed the pepper and sprinkled some onto the bland eggs.  “I still don’t know why you insist on using pepper on everything instead of salt.”  

Sam made a face as I added more pepper to my eggs and ate them with a smirk, just in spite. As soon as I finished eating I got up and put my plate in the sink, already in a rush to get to the bathroom and brush my teeth so I could hurry up and get out the door. Eileen noticed I hadn’t finished my coffee so she grabbed a to-go coffee cup and poured it in there while I was in the bathroom. “Alright, bye yall!”  I called from the garage door.

 I saw Eileen running towards me holding the cup, “Thought you might want to have the rest of this. Oh and Sam said bye.”  “Thanks Eileen.”  “No problem. Now get to work before you’re late.”  I gave her a nod and walked out the door. I grabbed the keys to my green and black Supercharged Kawasaki H2R and my Ghost Rider helmet and made my way to the motorcycle. I got on, putting the key in the ignition. I turned the key, hearing the engine roar to life. I balanced the bike and kicked up my stand, putting it in gear. I revved the engine and took off.

Eight hours later I pulled into the garage and into my spot. I put down my kickstand and took off my helmet before dismounting my bike. Today there were two kids I had to send to the emergency room because the parents underestimated just what was wrong with their kid. It sucked and was stressful. It didn’t help that the parents always blamed it on me as if I had been with them the whole day. 

As I’m grabbing my laptop case out of the side bag on the bike I hear what sounds like someone running. Before I could turn around to see who it was, the sound stopped. I knew that the bunker was warded so it couldn’t have been a spirit so I just continued to walk back towards the door. I heard running behind me and next thing I knew I was being tackled from the back. 

“Gottcha Baby!”  “Dean, what are you doing?”  I raised my eyebrows as his hand traveled down from my midsection to my hips. “No no no no no. Dean don’t you dare!”  He did the exact opposite and began tickling my sides. “Dean, no, s-stop! P-please.”  “What was that Hun? I didn’t quite hear you.”  He continued his attack on my sides and it lasted for what felt like forever. When he finally stopped, we were both out of breath from laughing so hard. 

Dean turned to me with a beaming smile that lit up his entire face, eyes shining from laughter and just pure happiness.  “Sorry babe, it seemed like you were having a bad day.”  “I was and I really needed that. Thank you.”  “No problem. Now, let’s get in the bunker. I got a surprise for you in the Dean Cave.”  “What kind of surprise?”  “You’ll see when we get there.”  I rolled my eyes but at that moment, Dean lifted me off the ground and pulled me into a bridal style carry. I yelped at the sudden surprise and he took off towards the Dean Cave. 

When we got there the first thing that caught my attention was the speaker that we use for parties, was set out. The next thing was the palate set out on the floor and the sushi that was beside it. “Dean, what is this?”  “Since it’s Friday and you had a long day, I decided to give you a little treat.”  “That’s so sweet but, what’s the speaker for?”  “I figured we could listen to music while we hung out or we could watch a movie. So, which do you want to do?”  “How do you feel about music?”  “That’s just fine for me.”  I walk over to the speaker with my phone in hand and turn on my bluetooth, connecting my phone to play music. The first song I play is When the Levee Breaks and Dean gives me a look of approval and we go to sit down on the palate constructed of just about every bed-set here in the bunker. 

Dean hands me one of the trays of sushi before grabbing his own. “So, what exactly happened today that made it so bad?” I sighed, thinking about the very colorful threats that were thrown at me once I told the parents what actions they needed to take to ensure their child’s health. I was only doing my job. “I had to send two kids to the emergency room today and the parents weren’t happy about it to say the least.”  “Oh, Hun, I'm sorry.”  “It ain’t your fault. I get it though.” Dean’s brow furrowed. “I mean if it was my kid I would be upset too. I probably wouldn’t yell at the doctor but, still.”  “You probably handled it a lot better than I would’ve.” I laughed and shook my head, shrugging my shoulders in agreement. 

The song ends as I’m taking my first bite of the bubba roll Dean got from the small Japanese place just a few minutes from the bunker. I pick up my phone and play my mixed playlist on Spotify. I know Dean would usually act like he hated pop in front of Sam or anyone else but with me, he’ll sing his heart out and dance like there’s no one around. I go to the song that’s absolutely necessary at this moment, Uptown Funk. It always manages to pick up my mood when I’m down at a low, along with the company of Dean, of course. I sat down my food and stood up, grabbing Dean’s hand in the process.  “Scar, really? Right now?”  “Yes right now. Get up!”  “Sweetheart, Sam’s home.”  “I know. If he walks in, both of you can get over it.”  “That’s something for him to tell people though Hun.”  “Yeah and I have plenty on him and so do you.”  He rolled his eyes and smiled. Dean finally got up and lifted me up off the ground, spinning me around as he did. We danced like we were teenagers at their first prom, in the best way possible. 

The song finished and when the next one came on, Dean’s face lit up. He immediately dove into the first verse of Can’t Help Falling in Love. My husband pulled me into his arms and began to sway gently side to side while moving around the room.

Wise men say

Only fools, only fools rush in

Oh, but I, but I, I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be, would it be a sin?

If I can’t help falling in love with you

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things, you know, are just meant to be 

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

For I can’t help falling in love with you

He finishes the song and dance with an enchanting kiss. Enveloping my lips with his, he grabs the sides of my face pulling me deeper into the kiss. I reach around and intertwine my hands in his dark brown locks. Here recently he’s been growing out his hair and it’s made it down to right below his neck, his bangs just barely reaching beneath his eyebrows. His hair has grown out to be a dark brown in his older age. Small flecks of gray sprinkled throughout. The cool feeling of the soft strands only heighten the small pool in my stomach. 

That is until Dean pulls away. When I whine softly in protest, Dean puts a finger to my lips and trails his finger down to my chin and tilts my head up so I’m looking straight into the green oceans that he calls normal eyes. Nothing that breathtaking can be “normal”. “Scarlett, no matter what anyone says, you’re an incredible doctor. I mean you worked your ass off for those degrees. You shouldn’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I mean if you were my kid’s doctor and you found out something that was really wrong with them, I would have given over my paycheck that week. And before you say anything, no I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. I’m telling you the truth, ‘cause that’s just what we all need to hear sometimes.”

I smiled and blinked away the tears that had formed in my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled those soft, pillowy lips down to mine. Dean groaned and slipped his tongue into my mouth. The kiss formed a beautiful symphony between us and we played the song that we knew by our hearts. 

Dean pulled away just enough to grumble “Bedroom” and oh did I comply. I nodded and he grabbed the underside of my thighs and hoisted me up so I could wrap my legs around his hips. Our lips never parted as he walked us to the bedroom we share amongst all the others in the bunker, we chose this one with the feeling and anticipation to make memories that would last a lifetime.  

Somehow, Dean managed to get the door open, us in, closing and locking the door behind us, still without breaking the feverish kiss. He laid me down on the bed with such ease it made me feel like I weighed nothing but a feather. Dean got up from the bed to rid himself of everything he was wearing and got back on top of me to “assist” me in the same way. 

When I was completely bare before him, Dean just stared with lust and awe in his eyes. “So beautiful.”  He murmured sweet little nothings as he kissed his way from my neck to my bare heat. He pressed a kiss to my clit and went down further to lick a hot, wet stripe all the way back up. My thighs instinctively went close around his head and he placed a firm hand against one and pushed just slightly. “Gotta have my meal spread out for me Baby.”  A cocky grin spread across his lips as he dipped his head back down to my dripping pussy and buried his tongue as far as he could, and oh was it far, into my inner walls. 

My hands found their way to his hair and pulled tight at the brown, peppered lock causing the god of a man to groan, the vibration sending a shiver to my core and up my spine. “Oh God, Dean!”  

Dean took his free hand and brought it up to my clit, making small tantalizing circles and applying just the right amount of pressure to the small pearl, to send me to oblivion with release. A guttural groan pulled itself from the depths of my throat with my finish and Dean brought himself up to my lips and claimed my lips with his in a lust filled kiss that left us both completely breathless.

“Dean, I need you now.”  The plea came out more broken than I intended but it still got the message across because Dean was ready in an instant, already leaning back on his heels and lining himself up with my entrance. He looked to me with a silent ask for permission, I nodded and with that my breath had completely left my body as he buried himself to the hilt with the first thrust. 

Dean was holding himself up with his forearms and was hovering just above my face, he leaned down to my ear, just a little lower beneath the sensitive lobe and sucked a dark bruise on the spot that he knew drove me wild everytime. “Dean, please, move.”  He nodded slightly and pulled out to the tip and thrusted back in again with more force behind it with a deep groan. 

Our bodies moved in unison, like two puzzle pieces finding their way with each other with ease until Dean shivered and I felt his length twitch inside my hot core and with one final thrust, the one I love most in this world found his release, painting my insides white. My release was triggered by his own, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. When we had both caught our breath and calmed down mostly, Dean got up to go get a towel to clean us both up. 

With the towel thrown aside and us both content in the bed, I grabbed my husband’s waist in a tight hug. “Hey Baby.” He whispered into my hair, pressing a lingering kiss to my head before propping his chin up there. I just yawned in response and heard Dean chuckling softly, his shoulders moving slightly with the action. “You tired?”  “Mhm.”  Dean kissed the top of my head again and I closed my eyes and welcomed the sleep that followed shortly after. The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me completely was my husband’s deep voice slightly mumble, “G’night Sweetheart. I love you with all of this damaged soul of mine.”

Taglist: @holdmytesseract @bayleighmiller @whollyintroverted @spnjohnlocked @javagirl328 @km-ffluvluv @mischief-dream @asher-england69 @buttercupcookies-blog @glitterylokislut @shineywizardbird @disneygirl1859

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 1x22 Devil's Trap

Zero bars. 

“Shit!”

Sam stuffs the cell phone back into his pocket, mind racing. He can’t call 9-1-1. Both Dad and Dean are gravely injured. The demon might return. The Impala is out back. From the map he studied earlier he remembers the location of the nearest hospital. 

It’s up to him now. 

“Sit tight,” he says both to his father and his brother, as if any of the two were able to get up and walk under their own power right now. “I’ll be right back.”

He runs outside, grabs the first aid kit from the trunk of the Impala, throws a blanket into the back seat and leaves the door wide open. Back inside the cabin, he drops to his knees between his father and his brother. 

Dean first.

“You with me, man?”

He’s curled up on his side, white-faced and breathing in faint puffs, arms protectively cradling his chest. When Sam gently rolls him onto his back, he groans feebly in response.

“Is he– … Sam, is he okay?” Their dad is trying to drag himself closer, leaving a trail of blood on the floor boards.

“I dunno. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

Sam unclamps Dean’s arms and pulls his blood-soaked t-shirt up to expose the damage. He finds two long and deep slashes across his chest and stomach that look almost surgical. The lower one has opened the muscle tissue of Dean’s belly, but at least he can’t see intestines. The white of bone shimmers through the one across Dean’s ribs. 

“Oh God.”

Sam rips open gauze pads and slaps them over the wounds, applying pressure. Dean moans in distress.

“That bad?” John Winchester, hand clutched to his own bleeding leg, sounds scared, and if Sam wasn’t so busy trying to save his brother, he’d take a moment to be surprised.

“He needs a hospital,” he says instead, Dean squirming feebly underneath his hands. “And fast. I’ll get him there. The both of you!”

“Hnnng… Sammy! Fuck, that hur— guhh…!” Dean squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. His lips are slick and dark with blood.

“I know, Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam apologizes. He’s scared, his heart beating frantically in his chest, but he’s trying not to show it. “I know it hurts like hell. But we’ve got to slow down the bleeding before I move you.” With one hand and his teeth, he rips strips of tape from a roll and secures the dressings as best as he can. At least there’s not nearly as much blood welling up as before, when the yellow-eyed demon, in their father’s body, had held Dean in his vise-like grip. 

“You’re gonna be alright, son.” Their dad’s voice sounds steadier now, his commanding tone returning. Sam can still hear his worry for Dean, but also his anger about letting the demon escape.  “We’ll get you out of here, fix you right up. And next time we find that yellow-eyed bastard, I’m gonna pay him back for what he did to you, I promise!”

Sam turns to him and tosses him a rolled-up bandage before pressing both palms back on Dean’s chest. While he shares his father’s need for revenge, he has different priorities now.  “Here, tie this around your leg!” 

Over his shoulder, he watches his father wrap his gunshot wound and pull the bandage tight with a teeth-clenched grunt. Counting in his head, Sam gives them all three more minutes, his pressure on Dean’s wounds steady. He takes a deep breath. Then he lifts his palms to check.

The dressings are blood-smeared from Sam’s hands, but, encouragingly, there’s no bright red soaking through - at least not yet. Dean’s eyes are open and lucid, his breathing sharp and fast, but uninhibited. This may be their window of opportunity.

“Alright, brother,” he says as firmly as he can. “Think we can get you up now?” 

He knows that, ideally, he shouldn’t move Dean, go for help instead and bring back the cavalry. But the demon might come back, and they’re in no condition to fight. They’ve got to go.

Dean blinks heavily and scrunches up his face, bloody teeth showing. He’s starkly pale against all that red. But he nods. “Uh-huh.”

“Okay.” Sam pulls the t-shirt back down over Dean’s bandages. He gets up and behind Dean and slides his hands underneath his armpits.

“I’ll get him to the car first, then you,” he informs their father.

“Sammy, you can’t–”

“Yes, I can.” 

A choked sound of agony comes out of Dean when Sam hauls him upright, but the injured Winchester does his best to get his feet under him and not pass out in the process. Sam slings his brother’s arm across his shoulders and hooks his free hand into Dean’s belt. Dean’s breathing raggedly, trembling with pain. But he’s vertical, and that’s got to be good enough.

“Ready?” Sam asks.

Dean nods weakly.

Taking most of his brother’s weight, Sam somehow manages to half-carry, half-walk him to the Impala. He lowers him into the back seat, propped up so he doesn’t choke on the blood he’s still bringing up in small amounts. Whatever the demon did to him, it must have caused internal injuries as well. Sam grabs the blanket and spreads it over Dean’s legs to keep him warm. 

“Stay awake, okay? I’ll be back with Dad in a minute.”

When Dean doesn’t react, Sam urgently pets his cheek. Sluggishly, his brother’s eyes peel open. 

Sam gives him a shaky smile. “There you go. Now stay awake!” 

Reluctantly, he leaves his brother alone and rushes back into the cabin. His father is already standing, leaning against the wall, all weight off his injured leg. 

“We’ve got to hurry,” he says urgently. “He might come back.”

The hairs at the back of Sam’s neck stand up.

 “I know.”

If the bastard shows up again, Sam will not hesitate. He’s got one bullet left.

He slides under his father’s arm to support him.

“Sam, where’s the colt?”

“I got it.” He feels the weapon safely tucked into the back of his jeans. “Let’s go!”

When they’re at the car, Dad dropping heavily into the passenger seat, Sam’s dizzy with exhaustion and adrenaline. It’s a heady mix - his heart pumping in his ears, his legs shaking, thoughts ricocheting in his head like a spray of bullets. Danger pings up his spine, screaming at him to run run run, and in the middle of it all he’s trying to stay calm, the only one left standing.

He zips around to the driver’s side, yanks the door open and slides behind the wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, he whips his head around to check on his brother. 

“Dean?” 

His brother’s limp in the back seat, but his chest is rising and falling, the blood on his shirt glistening in the dark. His eyes flutter open when he hears Sam’s voice.

Dad has turned his head around as well, for once getting his priorities straight. “Hang in there, son,” he says, and manages to make it sound like an order. “You’re strong! You’ve got this!”

The engine of the Impala roars to life. Dirt and pebbles spray as they take off, the big car lurching on the unpaved road. Sam grits his teeth against every pothole, only now becoming aware of his own injuries again. His right eye is so swollen that it’s messing with his vision on that side, and he squints into the darkness ahead. His cheek’s puffy and hot, pain radiating down into his jaw and screaming for an ice pack. 

No time for that now. Beside him, his father is white-kuckling the dashboard and bleeding through the bandage around his leg. Behind him, in the rearview mirror, Dean coughs, fresh blood trickling down his chin.

Sam pushes his own pain into the background and focuses on driving.

The Damage Control Series - Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[cjsinkythoughts]

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

*******************

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink. 

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you.  Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

*****************

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

**********************

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing. 

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

*chanting*

Jea-lous Buck-y

Jea-lous Buck-Y

Jea-lous BUCK-Y

Jea-LOUS BUCKY

JEALOUS BUCKY!!!????

Pretty pretty please with all the cherries on top?

I’d Back Off If I Were You

A/N: Of course! How could I resist a jealous Bucky?? Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy! :) 

Also, this story is based off episode 3 of TFAWS, I just changed some things around!!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

Warnings: violence, alcohol, cursing, implied smut, angst 

Zemo, at first, was your biggest concern. Breaking him out of jail scared you; it made you worry about how it would affect Bucky. However, Zemo wasn’t your number one concern at this moment. It was the number of stares you were receiving at this bar. 

After breaking Zemo out, he’s had numerous ideas, this one being your least favorite. He brought you all to a bar in Madripoor, to seek out information about Dr. Nagel’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, both Walker and Lemar were invited along. For what reason, you couldn’t say. 

The loud music beats around you, as you pull your short, red dress down a little. 

Sam was to your left, buying you a drink. He was your pretend boyfriend for the night, dressed up to resemble a man known as the Smiling Tiger. 

Sam slides a double rum and coke your way. “Here, thought you might want something a little stronger.” 

“Thanks.” You pick up the glass and take a sip, scanning the dance floor as you drink. 

You instantly spot Bucky across the room, looking mad as all hell. He didn’t agree with this plan for two reasons: first, he had to pretend to be the Winter Soldier, a part of him that he’s been trying to erase completely and second, you had to be Sam’s arm candy for the night. 

He locks eyes with you and you give him a small smile. The left corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk and he tilts his head to the side. You could only imagine what he was going to do to you later. The thought makes your pulse quicken. 

You shake your head and look away from him. Right now, you need to focus on the task at hand. 

To the right of Bucky stood Walker and Lemar, both drinking a beer and chatting quietly to themselves. Zemo was talking to the bar manager, trying to persuade him to let us see Selby, who can give us information about Nagel. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel Sam put a hand on your lower back. 

“Want to go dance?” he asks. “I feel like everyone is looking at us.”

“Buck’s not going to be happy,” you say. 

“Yeah, well, I’m sure Tin Man is going to be brooding all night, so what’s one dance?”

You bite your lip, thinking to yourself. You shrug your shoulders. “I guess you’re right.” You grab Sam’s hand and pull him onto the dance floor. “Show me what you got, Sammy.” 

Sam immediately starts dancing around you and grabs your hand, spinning you towards him before dipping you low to the ground. 

Across the room, Bucky is watching you and Sam intently, arms crossed. He trusts you both, he just wishes that was him dancing with you. Walker and Lemar walk up next to him, disrupting him from his thoughts. 

“I’m wishing that was me too,” Walker says, looking at Bucky with a smirk on his face. 

Bucky turns his head, glaring at Walker. “Excuse me?” he asks. 

“I mean just look at Y/N,” Walker continues. “That tight, red dress accentuating every inch of that body. If I was Sam, I’d be doing a lot more than just dancing, if you know what I mean.” 

In seconds, Bucky has Walker pinned to the wall, his metal arm wrapped around his throat. “If one more fucking word comes out of your mouth, I’ll rip your fucking tongue out, so you’ll never speak again. Understand?” 

Lemar touches Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey, let’s not make a scene.”

Bucky yanks his hand off Walker’s throat and walks away, heading towards Zemo. 

Lemar looks at Walker. “You, my friend, are asking for a death wish.”

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

The mission was a half success. You managed to get one piece of information on Nagel, but you were then chased out of the bar by people shooting at you. Now, you were all holed up at Sharon’s place, after connecting with her as she saved you from the shooters. 

She lent a room for you and Bucky to sleep in for the night and you were currently watching Bucky as he angrily pulled off his suit jacket and flung it to the floor. 

“Well, that’s a little rude,” you say. “What did that suit jacket ever do to you?” 

Bucky looks at you, annoyance written all over his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Fucking Walker. Said some fucked up shit about you. I swear, I’m going to kill him.” 

You get up and stand in front of him. “Buck, don’t let him get to you. He’s trying to get under your skin.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Well, it’s working.” He grabs your chin with his metal hand. “Anyone who even looks at you the wrong way is going to have a problem with me.”

“My, my, sounds to me like you’re a tad jealous.” You laugh. 

Bucky’s metal hand glides down your body, reaching your waist and tugging you towards him. 

“You think that’s funny, doll?” The hand on your waist tightens slightly. 

You watch his eyes darken and gulp. 

“I hope you’re not tired. I have plans for you tonight.” 

He picks you up and tosses you on the bed. 

“I’m all yours,” you say, before he smashes his lips onto yours.

[holylulusworld]

Don’t fear your kinks – Part Zero - Christmas Special (Prequel)

Title: Don’t fear your kinks – Part Zero - Christmas Special (Prequel)

Square filled for @spnchristmasbingo​​​​: Secret relationship 

Square filled for @spndeanbingo​: Secretly Dating

Summary: We get to know how their kink party began. This time: Santa Claus and naughty Elf

Pairing: SantaClaus!Dean x Elf!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1,3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: secret relationship, smut, unprotected sex, language, degrading, dirty talk, roleplay, established relationship

A/N: This is a prequel to this series. It’s their first roleplay.

Don’t fear your kinks Masterlist

SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist

2021 SPN Dean Bingo masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“Santa Baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me. Been an awful good girl. Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,” you sing along while checking your outfit in the mirror.

You bought a naughty elf costume to spice up your sex life.

It’s been months of hiding your renewed relationship from your best friend Sam. He witnessed your fights and the bad breakup, and you know, he wouldn’t be all too happy to see you and Dean back together.

“Oh yeah, I’m such a naughty elf,” licking on a strawberry and peppermint-flavored candy cane, you smirk to yourself. You pout as Sam yells something from the hallways, ruining your festive mood. “I got no time, Sam. I need to fix something in my room.”

“Your cookies look like they are burned,” Sam yells again. “I can get them out if you want me to.”

“Fuck’s sake, Sammy. Why didn’t you take them out before?” you growl, licking on the cane one last time. You wanted to put on make-up, but now you need to check on your cookies first. “I hope they aren’t burned yet.”

“Hey, you told us to not touch your cookies,” watching you storm out of your room Sam smirks. He admires your short-sleeved green dress. 

You are wearing a red and green elf hat, decorated with gold bells that make you jingle all the way to the kitchen.

“Wait, I’ll help you,” the tall hunter walks behind you, eyes glued to your legs covered in red and white striped tights and some black booties. “Dean will tease you for your costume, Y/N.”

“Nah, he will love it,” you bite your tongue, hiding the smirk on your lips as imagine Dean will rip the costume off of your body. “Dean loves Christmas, he just doesn’t know it yet.”

“We never celebrated Christmas, you know,” Sam watches you run toward the oven to save your cookies, laughing as you look at the burned cookies. “Too late?”

“Luckily, I prepared more dough. I will just bake more,” you shrug before you throw the burned cookies into the dumpster, not letting anything ruin your festive mood. “No biggie, Sammy. I’m always prepared.”

“Yeah?” he laughs as you give him a wink, not missing his cock twitched in his pants as you bent over to clean the baking tray. “Do you want me to help you?”

“I’ve got this,” already on your way toward the library you smile to yourself. Dean will love the decoration and the tree you bought. He just needs someone to make him see he loves Christmas as much as you do…

“Santa Baby,” you sing again as standing on tiptoes to decorate the tree. “Perfect little tree.” you coo, wondering if the brothers will like the decoration and tree. 

“Hohoho, sweet little elf,” startled you drop one of the Christmas bulbs, shrieking as Dean put his hands on your waist. “What do we have here? A little elf wearing a naughty costume,” he whispers in your ear, smirking as you shiver at his touch.

“I wanted to wear something—festive,” you twirl around, gasping as Dean is wearing a Santa Claus costume, including a Santa wig and beard. “Santa baby!”

“I got a naughty and nice list, miss. Do you want me to have a look at it or do you want to sit on my thigh and tell me about your sins?” he purrs, eyes drifting toward your cleavage. “Damn, this is going to be the best Christmas ever for good old Santa Claus.”

You step away to admire Dean in his costume. He’s wearing a red, three-quarter length, velvet suit jacket. The matching elastic waist pants complete the costume.

“OH, please Santa, I was a good girl this year,” you coo, slowly stepping toward Dean, holding up a candy cane to offer him a lick or two. “Here’s something sweet for you. I can be good for you too.”

“You can?” Dean smirks. His cock fights his pants as you place your hand onto his chest, smiling sweetly. “What will you do, sweet girl? I want to know if you are going to be nice extra nice to Santa.”

“I will,” playing with his fake white beard you look up at Dean with doo eyes, batting your eyelashes. “I can prove that I’m a good girl, Santa.”

“My sweet little elf,” you watch Dean sit on a chair at the library, patting his thigh. “C’mere and tell Santa about your wishes and if you were a good girl.”

“Yes, Santa baby,” hopping onto Dean’s thigh you wrap one arm around his neck as you place your hand onto his chest. “I want my boyfriend to do naughty things to me and, new underwear. Red lace or white.”

“Hmm, I think you deserve good sex and nice new underwear,” he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping at your ear lobe. “How about we got to Santa’s room, and you can ride his big red dick.”

“Naughty,” moving your hand to his growing erection, you giggle as a deep rumble escapes Dean’s chest. “Let’s go to your room and I’ll be an awful good girl for you tonight, Santa.”

“Lead the way, little elf…”

“Fuck, Santa baby,” you bite the pillow, teeth tugging at the fabric to keep the noises low. Sam cannot know his big brother is busy mounting you like an animal as you urge him on to ruin you once for all. “Harder, baby.”

“Little elf, be quiet,” he growls, hands tugging harshly at your costume. He drags you onto his cock, groaning with every deep thrust. “I will be fucking ruin this cunt and cream your insides with Santa’s cum. Did you know, people say it tastes like peppermint?”

“Can I have a taste?” watching Dean in the mirror you can’t help but giggle. His fake hair and beard are a mess. With his coat partially ripped open, his pants pooling around his thighs he looks like a Santa straight out of bad porn. “I wanna lick your dick like a candy cane.”

“Later you can be a good girl and lick Santa’s candy cane clean,” he snaps his hips harder into your ass, making you cry out at the sudden change of pace. “Santa Claus wants you to take his cock in your pretty pussy first.”

“Give me your cock,” whimpering into the cushions, fingers fisting the sheets, you try to hold back the approaching high. “Fuck, Santa. I will be so good for you from now on. Your thick candy cane removed all the sin from my body.”

“Fuck, that’s,” Dean laughs as you clench tightly around his thick shaft. “You look so good filled with my cock. I will never get tired of this sweet cunt…”

“Do you think Sam heard us? He looked flustered when we left your room,” you glance at Sam in the kitchen, wondering if he heard his brother and you going at it.

“I don’t know but,” Dean whispers in your ear, handing caressing your cheek softly, “I think we should do this roleplaying thing more often. How about we talk about a few ideas?”

“Ideas, you say,” smiling you turn around to peck Dean’s lips softly. “Tell me more, my secret Santa lover.”

“Guys, I’m glad you are back together, but stop making out when other people are around,” Sam grumbles, glaring at you and Dean, “and yes, I heard everything last night.”

What Sam doesn’t tell the two of you is that he jerked off, listening to the noises you made for his big brother.

And he will go to hell before he’ll ever admit he wanted to join you last night…

Don’t fear your kinks Tags

@daddys-little-princess67​, @deanscroissant​, @woodworthti666​, @slut-for-jared, @rosiehayes​, @lysiebooklover​, @walkernigh​, @drown-me-before-dema-does​, @donteatmycookiesplease​, @ela-ena​, @babygirl-htx​, @werewolfbanshee-love​, @djj1999​​, @love-is-not-an-option​​​, @I-sofiamia-I, @the-hufflepuff-hunter482, @katwed​

More tags in reblog.

[atlaese]

Sandwiches and ice cream - b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader TW: fatws spoilers, food mentions, alcohol, just some fluff A/N: not me procrastinating and writing this instead of my thesis that needs to be finished in *checks calendar* 8 days 🤡

MARVEL MASTERLIST | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The ice cream cake Bucky had brought to the party had been absolutely demolished by all the kids running around. He had watched with a smile on his face how they politely had asked for a piece, only to shove it into their faces and eat it in a matter of seconds.

Sam had clapped him on the shoulder, telling him that he should’ve brought two cakes instead of just the one, pouting that he wasn’t able to get a piece. Sarah had pulled him away towards the brownies she had baked, rolling her eyes at her brother’s antics and grinning at Bucky.

For the rest of the day, Bucky had lounged with the rest of the community, playing with the children and enjoying all the food that was being passed around. He had just sat down at a table with Sam, Sarah and some other people, a plate filled with a ton of food in front of him, when someone gently put a hand on his left shoulder.

He stilled for a moment, before he realized literally no one cared about his vibranium arm here, then he relaxed and looked up at the person whose hand was on his shoulder.

“Hey Sarah, Sam… other guy I don’t know,” you awkwardly said, a tight grin on your face when you gave Bucky a pointed look, “I made some po’boy sandwiches, anyone want one?”

You held up the large platter you had brought, showcasing a small mountain of sandwiches.

“Jesus, y/n, you always outdo yourself on these things,” Sam said, leaning over the table to take two at once.

Blinking a few times, you stared him down, “and you always outdo yourself on the amount you think you can eat, Sammie!”

He scoffed when Sarah also laughed at your statement, before she got one for herself.

“Your stare is almost as good as this guy’s here,” Sam pointed, eyeing Bucky when you were still glaring at him, even after he had taken a first bite, “damn, you gotta share this mayo recipe y/n, it’s unfair that it’s this good.”

“Why would it be unfair if you’re never here to eat it, Captain?” You questioned him and he groaned, waving you away.

You held out the platter to Bucky, “want one, big stary guy?”

He looked up at you and a small smile presented itself on his face, his eyes widening a little bit when he got a better look at your face, “ ‘m Bucky”

Your squinted your eyes a bit, looking at his face before grabbing a sandwich and plopping it on top of his already overflowing plate, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You winked at him and waved at the others, turning away to go to another table to offer them some sandwiches.

Bucky’s jaw was slightly slacked when he watched you walk away. A smile radiated off your face when you talked to other people in the community, handing out sandwiches left and right to everyone who looked like they still had some room in their bellies.

“Ah, of course, man I swear you’re so predictable,” Sam laughed as he started his second sandwich.

“Knew you used to be a charmer, but you’ll need to try harder than that, man,” he mumbled with a full mouth, before letting out a loud puff.

Sarah rolled her eyes, “she literally told you two would be too much.”

“I can’t help it that she makes the best sandwiches! I’ll just save it for later,” he exclaimed, lightly shoving her shoulder, “I’ll need some more fuel after busting out some moves!”

Bucky’s eyes flitted between the bickering siblings, before sliding over to your figure in the distance. Most people had been given a sandwich and you were just talking to an older couple before handing them the last few sandwiches and making your way over to the railing at the end of the docks, your summer dress flowing behind you in the wind.

After eating the sandwich, Bucky stood up, brushing his sweaty palm on his pants before leaving the table, the Wilson siblings hollering after him.

* * *

You were leaning on the railing, looking over the boats that were gently bobbing on the waves, music in the background reaching your ears.

Someone came to stand next to you and you watched them out of the corner of your eyes.

“Coming to stare down the creatures in the sea?”

He chuckled and gripped the railing, “um, no, wanted to thank you for the sandwich, it was great.”

You turned to look at him, eyeing the expression on his face, “consider me thanked, Bucky.”

“Oh, you know me?”

“You literally told me your name when I gave you a sandwich, silly,” you snickered when he blushed a little and rubbed his neck.

“Yeah”, he dragged out, “used to be a lot better at this before.”

You bit on your lip to keep a smile from spreading, “so, how do you know Sam and Sarah?”

“We’re, partners, no- uh, co-workers, let’s keep it at that,” he nodded his lips contorted in a half smile, half frown.

“Ah co-workers, what’s your gimmick?”

He held up his left arm and you mumbled a ‘fair enough’ before looking back at the boats again.

“So how do you know them? I’m guessing co-worker is out of the question?”

“Sarah and I met in high school, been friends ever since. She took over the family business when their parents died, I opened a cafe in town,” leaning your chin on your hand you looked at him, "We help each other out when we need extra hands. So co-workers on occasion one might say.”

He snorted at that last piece of information and turned around to look at the party that was going into full-swing.

“So, this is your first cook-out right?” You questioned, gauging his reaction.

He nodded with a curious look in his blue eyes.

“What did you bring for food? Don’t tell me you showed up at a cook-out empty handed!”

“I brought an ice cream cake!” He said almost offended that you’d think that.

“I hear ‘an’? Like singular? You only brought one cake?” Your mouth dropped open, a bubbly laugh erupting, “I just know that the kids inhaled it in like a minute!”

Licking his lips, he tried to suppress a grin, “yeah, more like 0.5 seconds. These kids are wild.”

The giggling continued, before you placed a hand on his forearm, “it was nice to meet you Bucky, but I have an early morning at the cafe tomorrow.”

His expression dulled, he had hoped to continue talking to you.

You drew your lower lip between your teeth, “uh, we open at 7:30 tomorrow. The Green Spot, it’s off the main street, you can’t miss it honestly.”

Your nose crinkled, “I might have a plant problem, so just look for an urban jungle.”

Tapping your fingers on his forearm, you gave him a last smile before walking off.

“Wait,” he called out and stood straighter. You turned around, the wind blowing your hair everywhere and your dress flowing around you, hints of your perfume reaching him.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t even know your name”

You raised your brows, a smile pulling at your lips, “y/n!”

* * *

Sam had encouraged Bucky to visit the cafe the following morning. So at 7:30 on the dot, he stood in front of the counter, the bags under his eyes showing that he had left the party quite late, but the smile on his lips telling another story.

You hadn’t expected him to actually show up, but your heart did flutter when he asked for a recommendation on what to eat and where the best spot was to sit so he could talk to you over the counter.

So every time after that, you’d give him that weeks specialty cake and a coffee when he visited. During slow hours you’d sit with him and sip on a coffee to talk about your day and during rush hour he often helped out behind the counter.

He became a staple in the cafe and on days where he couldn’t stop by because he was out of town for a mission, you’d miss him dearly.

He first kissed you after he had helped out in the cafe all day, seeing you fly around the place to serve everyone, the smile on your face always so genuine, refusing to accept tips that were too big and handing out a coffee and three sandwiches to the homeless guy on the corner.

You’d sat in front of the cafe after you had closed up, a tired but satisfied look on your face as you took a bite from the bagel you shared with Bucky. He’d complained that you had a bigger piece than him and you had lightly shoved him, a grin on your face and your hand stayed on his shoulder.

The way he had looked at you made you think your heart would beat out of your chest. His right hand had come up to cradle your face and he had slowly leaned in. Just before your lips touched, he quietly asked if he could kiss you, and you had looked up at him through your lashes, slowly nodding. His lips slated over yours as he slowly kissed you, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs. When he pulled away, you followed his lips almost automatically, and he had chuckled before pecking your lips again.

The next morning, you both had lovesick smiles on your face as you stood behind the counter and Bucky was sitting in his usual spot, hiding his blushing face behind a newspaper. Sarah had quickly figured out what had happened when she stopped by for a tea, raising her brows as she pointed her thumb in Bucky’s direction, you were stammering, trying to find a weak excuse.

Eventually, you had admitted what happened, telling Sarah about what a good kisser he was. Bucky’s ears had perked up when you mentioned his name, using his super soldier hearing to his advantage. A smirk had replaced the blush on his face when you came to sit next to him, before you kissed his cheek and nestled yourself under his arm, reading whatever page he was on.

He felt at home whenever he was with you, so much that he was already thinking of moving to Louisiana permanently.

* * *

The following year, Bucky had brought three ice cream cakes to the cook-out. He was carrying two stacked on top of each other in his left hand, whilst his other hand was lightly holding yours. In your right hand, you held the third ice cream cake, trying to balance it when a few kids whizzed around you, eager to get their hands on a slice.

“I think my right hand might be frozen,” you frowned, once you had placed the cakes on the tables scattered around on the docks, trying to move your fingers individually, “I mean, look!”

You tried to twirl your fingers, but they only moved a little.

A laugh left Bucky’s mouth as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his lips, softly pressing a kiss against your knuckles.

“Should get one of these,” he snickered, twirling the fingers on his left hand towards you.

You wound both arms around his left bicep and leaned your head against it, “as long as it doesn’t have a heating function, I think I’ll pass.”

“But it is nice during hot summers like these,” you sighed, squishing your cheek against the cold metal, a dopey grin on your face.

He rolled his eyes, but a huge smile pulled on his lips nonetheless. He lifted his arm from your hold and put it around your shoulders, pulling you towards the table where Sam was sitting.

“Ah there they are! My favourite lovebirds!”, Sam exclaimed from a distance, making some room at the table so you could sit.

“Samwise, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you. Too busy saving America for us?”

Sam pulled you into a hug, “sorry y/n, I’ll stop by at the cafe when I’m in town next time.”

“Promise?” You pulled back and looked him in the eyes, “you have a slice of carrot cake with your name on it, Samuel!”

You let him go and Bucky stretched his hand out towards Sam, clapping his left hand on his shoulder, “Hey Buck, how are you man?”

Everyone mingled for a bit and you watched the kids eat away at the ice cream cakes. Sam complained that you hadn’t brought any sandwiches this time, but you had quickly shushed him when you pulled out a cooler. Earlier that day, you had filled it to the brim with sandwiches and had already dropped it off at the shack near the docks.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Bucky pressed a few kisses on the corner of your lips and your cheeks, guessing that’s why you had left his warm embrace so early this morning.

You gave him a sheepish smile and handed them out to everyone, slapping Sam’s hand away when he reached for a second one.

After the sun had set and most kids had left the scene, a dance party had spontaneously started. Fairy lights strung over the docks and a few music boxes scattered around made a great dance floor and you were eager to bust out some moves.

“Come on Buck! The dance floor is calling our names!” You exclaimed, pulling on his arm as you stood up.

Scrunching his face, he cupped his right hand over his ear, “I don’t hear anything doll, and you know my hearing is immaculate.”

Groaning, you dropped his arm and glared at him, “I’ll go dance alone then, party pooper.”

You pressed a kiss against his temple nonetheless, before skipping over towards the dance floor where some people were already dancing. You spotted Sarah in the middle and pulled her into a tight hug, before moving your body to the beat.

Watching your moves on the dance floor, he took a sip from his beer and laughed when you and Sarah clumsily bumped into each other.

“You got a good one there, Buck,” Sam took a sip from his beer as well, happily looking at all the people who were enjoying themselves.

“Yeah, still feels like a dream sometimes,” he grinned as he saw what you were doing.

You were shimmying your way over to Bucky, a seducing look in your eyes. Prying his beer bottle out of his hands, you took a swig and put it on the table. Grabbing his hands, you pulled him up and wiggled your shoulders, “come on, superstar, you’re killing me out here!”

He groaned but let you drag him to the dance floor either way, just wanting to be the one to make you smile.

“I’m just doing this because I love you, okay?” He gave a pointed look, his eyes lightly widening as you threw your arms around his neck.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you pressed a lingering kiss to his neck, “and because I love you, we’ll start with just a slow.”

“You can show me the robot dance after this one, babe,” you giggled as he groaned and tightened his arms around your waist, twirling you around as you squealed of happiness.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

SWAT Guy (Part 3)

(Gif @a-profoundbond​)

Summary: Dean gets pulled out into a call and needs Sam for backup when some of his usual guys are out. But something isn’t right about the whole situation and is about to cause a world of trouble for everyone involved...

Masterlist

Pairing: SWAT officer!Dean x reader

Square: Dean Smith

Word Count: 2,300ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, minor violence

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Sam is the reader’s brother. This was written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. Enjoy!…

_______

“Hi Sammy,” you said. He popped his head up from his desk and smiled. “I’m fine. Dean’s truck is in the shop so I’m picking him up today is all.”

“Lucky you. You get to deal with that hot mess on the way home,” said Sam, waiving his hand across the way. You turned and saw Dean in a suit, reading over a file at his desk. 

“Uh, what is he wearing?”

“He was deposed today,” said Sam. You turned back and cocked your head. “It’s like giving a witness statement kinda. We don’t always have time to go to the court house and not every case requires it.”

“He didn’t mention it.”

“I think he forgot. That’s my suit he’s wearing,” said Sam. You looked him over and noticed he was in his workout clothes, a smile crossing your face. “Shut it.”

“You guys are becoming friends,” you grinned.

“He’s a cocky asshole,” said Sam, flipping through some papers. “But he makes you happy.”

“Are his pants rolled up?” you asked with a smirk, catching site of the cuff at the bottom over his work boots.

“Oh trust me. We’ve been ragging on him all day long,” said Sam. “Staying over Dean’s again tonight?”

“Probably,” you said as you started to leave. 

“Y/N. Don’t you think you guys are going a little fast?” he asked.

“Sam. He’s been my boyfriend for nearly two months and I’m a big girl,” you said. He held up his hands and your walked around his desk, giving him a hug. “This isn’t another Lou incident.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt like that again is all.”

“Dean’s different than Lou. Even you can know that.”

“You still fell for Lou.”

“I was in love with the idea of being in love. I didn’t love Lou.”

“Do you think you might love Dean?”

“I could see myself doing that down the road,” you said. “I gotta take Mr. Grumples home so he can get ready to have dinner at our place-”

“No,” groaned Sam, his head thrown back. “I just spent nearly nine hours with the guy.”

“He’s been over there all day and Dean’s downstairs is torn apart from the electrician right now. Come on. He hangs out for one night? Pretty please big brother?” you asked. He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Sucker.”

“You’re cooking,” he said. You hummed and headed across the way to Dean’s office, rattling on the doorway.

“Howdy handsome,” you said. He lifted his head up and grinned. “Look at your cute little suit.”

“I hate it,” he said. “God, stick me in my SWAT uniform any day over this shit.”

“You do look nice, even if the suit doesn’t quite fit,” you said, one of the guys from his SWAT team poking his head in the door. “Hi-”

“We got a hostage situation downtown,” said Henry, Dean jumping out of his seat. “Hey Y/N. Gotta run.”

“Y/N, I’ll see you at my place tonight, okay?” said Dean, ducking out of his office. “It’s gonna be a few hours probably.”

“Okay,” you said, walking forward and grabbing his hand.

“Y/N, I gotta go get suited up,” he said. 

“I know,” you said, leaning up and kissing him. “Be safe.”

“Always am,” he said, someone else from his team he recognized jogging down the hall.

“Dean! Hold up!” he called as Dean started to leave. “Micky’s out sick today.”

“Shit. Steve’s on vacation too,” said Dean. “Who’s on the roster?”

“Gary but I know he and his wife are driving up to the lake this weekend. He took a half day. He’s an hour out,” he said. Dean scanned his eyes and looked around the room, biting his bottom lip. “Weston!”

“What?” shouted Sam from his office.

“Dress. Now. Hughie, get him suited up. I want him on strictly surveillance. It’s all he’s cleared for,” said Dean as Sam jogged out of his office. “I said now Weston!”

“Dean,” you said as he started heading down the hall. 

“I’ll keep him safe. I promise. I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.”

Four Hours Later

“Oh my God,” you said as Sam walked into the house, still in his SWAT gear. “What is going on? A cop showed up an hour ago and said I couldn’t leave. He’s been parked out front all-”

“Y/N,” said Sam, showing in another man you recognized from their work. “This is Officer Todd. He’s Dean’s supervisor and he’s responsible for the SWAT organization in our department. He needs to ask you some questions.”

“Where’s Dean?” you asked. Officer Todd stared at you and took a deep breath. “Where’s Dean?”

“I need to-”

“Is he dead?” you asked with a thick swallow.

“We don’t believe so,” said the officer. 

“How the fuck don’t you know the answer? Either he is or-”

“An erroneous situation happened and we will all yell and place blame at another time. But if you want to help Dean, I need you to answer anything I ask of you and I mean anything,” he said. 

“What happened to Dean? Where is he? Is he stuck on your call you-”

“Y/N, we don’t know where he is,” said Sam. You stuck out your neck and Sam shut his eyes. “It was a trap and we fell for it.”

“It was a hostage situation. You-”

“It was a mistake. We believe Dean was the real target. We’re unable to locate him. Now I need you to answer my questions. The sooner we do, the sooner we can find Dean, alright?” asked Officer Todd. You nodded and sat down on the couch, the officer pulling out a notepad.

“Hey,” said the cop that’d been parked in the driveway, Sam and officer Todd long gone. You lifted your head up from the couch where you watched late night TV, the cop giving you a smile. “Can I use your bathroom quick?”

“Around the corner to the left. First door on the right,” you said. He waved and stepped inside, ducking around as you let out a sigh. You tugged your blanket up over yourself, bolting upright when you heard a thud. “Officer Hendricks? You okay?”

You got up and looked around the corner, two men in masks standing there. You turned and bolted for the front door, a foot tripping you along the way, smacking you straight into the ground. You rolled and stared up at them, one of them squatting down close to you.

“We need you to get something for us,” he said. “It’s at the police station. If you get it for us, you can have back your boyfriend.”

“Look at this,” said the other guy, taking a picture off the wall. “She’s with a cop.”

“That ain’t Smith,” said the first guy, looking around the room and spotting a picture of you and Sam from when you were kids. “It’s her brother.”

“He could get it and we bring her with us.” They stared down at you where you’d backed up next to the end table. “It might keep Smith more complacent. We’re gonna need that password eventually and she’ll get us that password.”

You reached into the basket and pulled out the gun hidden there, both men more in awe than anything else.

“No I don’t think you two understand how this works,” you said, standing up. “You tell me where Dean is and maybe I don’t shoot your dicks off if I like the answer.”

“She wouldn’t-” You pulled the trigger and shot the shorter one in the thigh, the other guy jumping.

“That was a warning shot. Now where’s Dean?”

Three Hours Later

You spun around in the office chair you’d been sat in for over an hour, slumped down and checking out of the door every few minutes.

“Hey,” said Sam, suddenly in the doorway. You turned and he was smiling, looking to his right. “Got somebody who says they owe you one.”

Dean smirked as he stepped into view, a black eye and scuffed up cheek but he looked relatively okay. You got up and gave him a hug, Dean laughing to himself.

“So you can cook and have that level of marksmanship? You’re the full package, aren’t ya,” said Dean, squeezing you tight. 

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“He’s fine. A few scrapes. Bigger issue is what these guys wanted,” said Sam.

“I’ve got the security code to our SWAT arsenal. It’s located near the back so it’s pretty easy to get in and out if you have the code,” he said.

“So it wasn’t you they wanted?”

“Just the info I had. The electrician at my house the past few days wasn’t a real one. They were snooping through my crap, trying to find it written down somewhere.”

“There’s a lot of stuff in that room that we don’t want on the street,” said Sam. “This is my case now. Something bigger is going on we don’t know about yet.”

“It’s highly unlikely they’d try that method of getting access again,” said Dean, glancing to Sam. “But Sam and I think it might be a good idea if I stayed with you guys for a while, until this settles down.”

“So you’re the one that gets kidnapped and I stop a kidnapping and save you yet I’m the one that needs protection,” you said. 

“God no. I want you watching my back,” said Dean. “I’m the wimp around here.”

You smiled and he gave you a kiss, wincing a little as you noticed the split lip. 

“If that’s okay with you that is.”

“Yeah,” you said, Sam ducking past you into his office. “Hey. When were you gonna tell me you signed up for the backup squad?”

“I thought it might help me look at things from a different perspective,” said Sam.

“You just wanted to wear the pants. They do make your ass look great I gotta say, Sammy,” teased Dean.

“Can you go get kidnapped again or something?” said Sam, stretching in his seat. “I gotta write up my report. Take him home Y/N. They’re leaving a few officers just in case.”

“I can do that,” you said. “Don’t stay too late, Sam.”

“I won’t,” said Sam, Dean leaving your side to head into his office.

“Y/N,” said Sam quietly. “Keep an eye on him. It might be a rough night for him.”

“He told you.”

“That he’s got PTSD? Yeah when we debriefed him he told me,” said Sam. “So keep an eye on him.”

“You tell him you do too?” you asked. 

“No. Someday,” he said as Dean came back with his backpack. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Later Sammy,” said Dean with a wave.

“I’m regretting this already.”

“Ouch,” hissed Dean as you put a new bandage on his writs at home. “That hurts.”

“You’re supposed to change them every few hours and your other ones were all bloody. This cream is supposed to help you not scar,” you said, undoing his other wrist. He pouted as you removed the roll, his right wrist as torn up and scabbed as the left was. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand and he yanked it to his chest. You held up your hands and he offered it back slowly. “It’s alright.”

You tried to be more gentle as you put on the cream, carefully wrapping up the wrist again. Dean put his hands in his lap while you put the rest of the first aid stuff in your bathroom. You found him still sat on top of your bed when you returned, Dean picking at the bandage on his ankle.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” you asked. 

“I’m sorry I put you in danger.” He kept his head down and you sat beside him, tucking your knees into your chest.

“You didn’t put me in danger. Bad people did. If it wasn’t you it would have been your supervisor or someone else that knew that code. They thought you were the easiest to get to was all. Now is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Hold onto me tonight?” he asked. 

“That I can do.” You wrapped your arms around him and he rested his head on your shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. But I will. I’ll tell you about the other stuff someday too.”  

“Okay,” you said. “It’s pretty late. How about I get you some of Sam’s clothes to sleep in?”

“That big hoodie over there looks pretty nice,” he said, nodding to the one draped over your chair. You slid away and got up, helping him into it, tugging it down. 

“Looks good on you,” you said. You turned on your corner light and hit off the main switch, pulling back the covers for both of you to get under.

“Y/N?” You hummed as you tugged the blankets up and wrapped your arms around him. “Be careful. Sam was right. Whoever wanted those weapons is still out there. They want to do something bad.”

“I will be. Seems like a lot of trouble to go through to steal some guns.”

“It’s not just guns in there. Maybe you got a point. Maybe they want something else in there,” said Dean. 

“We’ll bring it up tomorrow. Tonight let’s try to relax okay?”

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Thanks sweetheart.”

“Tomorrow’ll be better Dean, I promise.”

_________

A/N: Read the final part coming soon!

[tryingmybestpls]

Not A Team: Part 2- New World Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader gives a speech at the opening of Steve’s exhibit and has a talk with Sam following his speech.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, talks of death, talks of mental illness, feelings of isolation

Read Part One here

Listen to the playlist inspired by the series here

Y/N felt like coming here today was a mistake.

Her stomach tossed and turned like a stormy sea, threatening to send her breakfast all over Rhodey's shiny shoes. She was second guessing everything. Was her dress nice enough? Rhodey had told her she looked great, but she hadn't worn a dress since Steve's funeral-Oh God, what if he was lying to her? No, he wouldn't lie to her-but what if he felt bad? Jesus, dd her shoes look stupid? Maybe she shouldn't have worn heels-but then she always wore heels with dresses and if she wore flats that would look childish. Did her speech sound coherent? Fuck, what if she messes up. Would they think she was doing it on purpose out of retribution for what Steve did? No, they didn't know what Steve did, what he had done to her. What if-

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? You look like you're going to blow chunks." Rhodey cuts through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He puts his hand on her back, "Breathe, Y/N."

"Maybe this a bad idea, Rhodey. I mean they have Sam. I think Sam can handle this." She stumbles over her words, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and she swore her hands were shaking,

"You're going to be okay, but you need to relax. I've read and reread your speech a dozen times. It's perfect." Rhodey tries to soothe her, his hand rubbing her back. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, working on slowing her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Hey pretty lady, I was wondering where the exhibit is. I'm supposed to be giving a speech there today." A voice calls out, sending Y/N's eyes flying open. She turns on her heels, being greeted by the sight of Sam walking towards them, holding the leather case that carries the shield. Y/N can feel the tension melting out of her shoulders as a smile spreads across her nervous face.

"Rhodey, I think they might be letting anyone speak here today." Y/N teases, the anxiousness slipping away, releasing its hold on her. Rhodey chuckles, shaking his head at his friend's antics. She hadn't seen Sam since the days following Steve's funeral and right now, he's a welcome sight. Sam rests his hand over his heart, feigning hurt as he gets closer.

"You wound me, woman." Sam jokes, smiling right back at her. They embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as his go around her waist, "I missed you, kid."

"I've missed you too, Sammy." She murmurs back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. They pull away and Sam smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Rhodey clears his throat, gently touching Y/N's upper arm.

"Hey I need to go talk to some people, alright?" Rhodey announces, almost as if he is asking permission. Y/N just smiles and nods, the smile staying on her face until he walks away from the two.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Sam questions, to which Y/N sighs, looking down at her shoes.  She stays quiet for a moment, feeling his eyes on her.

"You want the truth or you want me to tell you what I tell Rhodey?" She replies, looking back at him. Y/N shifts from one foot to another, glad they were far from the crowd that was gathering. He gives her a look, giving her an answer without opening his mouth. She sighs again, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"I don't sleep, not really. I get maybe an hour a night if I am lucky. I-The house is filled with boxes that I can't unpack because-" Her voice cracks, her chest rising and falling quickly. She bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to not cry, "I thought that leaving the apartment would make him go away, but it didn't."

"Well Steve was always stubborn." Sam responds, making a laugh bubble out of her throat before she could stop it. There was an "I'm sorry" buried in the joke and Y/N knew it, but decided to only focus on the joke.

-

The stage looked daunting.

She forced herself up those steps, the person who had introduced her still had his hand outstretched towards her. Y/N wondered if she could make a run for it. Sure people will be mad at her, but she won't be forcing herself through this. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the clapping nothing but a ringing in her ears. For a moment, her eyes landed on the giant banner of her husband, a lump forming in her throat. He was watching over her, his face emotionless as his eyes seemingly followed her every step. Cameras flashed as she stood on the stage, striding over to the podium. Once she stood in front of it, a hush fell over the crowd.

Y/N Rogers had saved thousands of lives. She was an Avenger and had faced countless foes. Hell, her wedding had more people in attendance than this event, but she still felt sick to her stomach. Y/N gave them all a smile as she forced herself to calm down, swallowing hard before speaking.

"To say that Steve Rogers was a special man is putting lightly. He was a hero that many of us, myself included, aspired to be one day. And while many of you only knew him as Captain America, I was among the lucky few that got to know him just as Steve Rogers. Now I could stand up here and tell you about every battle he won, how valiantly he fought-but everyone else is going to do that. Hell, you can read about it in the exhibit." Y/N chuckles, blinking away the tears in her eyes as the crowd laughs.

Y/N finds Rhodey and Sam in the crowd, both of them giving her smiles of encouragement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the diamond on her wedding ring sparkling in the light. It's the first time she's worn it in a while, but it felt almost right to wear it. Once again, she's pretending like Steve didn't leave her. No, Y/N is ignoring that completely, almost blissfully. These people only know Steve as Captain America, as a god-damned American hero. She isn't going to tarnish that, won't ruin his legacy. And regardless of what Steve did to her, she is still in love with him and she wants to talk about the man she fell in love with, not the one that hurt her. Y/N inhales and exhales shakily before continuing.

"Steve was so much more than just Captain America. He was my best friend and my husband. He was the type of man to pick up flowers for you just because. The type of man to tell you that you looked really pretty even though you were covered in dirt and ash. He would let me go on and on about things that didn't even matter, but with the way he paid attention you would think that I was telling him the secrets of the world. Steve loved staying in and having movie marathons-he-he had a list he'd carry with him to write down things he needed to learn about. Before we dated, he would text me randomly, asking me why Jar Jar Binks is hated so much or asking me to explain what emojis are. He never quite got the hang gof the latter." A laugh comes out of Y/N's mouth, the crowd following suit. There was a smile on her face, a warmth spreading in her chest.

"He's the man I'll be in love with until the day I die, but then I'll fall in love all over again because I'll be able to see him again. Steve was the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met and while I will always wish we had more time together, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. We were all lucky to have him." Y/N pauses again, her throat constricting with emotion, "Even though he's gone, Steve lived a long life-a life longer than some of us get and I am happy that so many different facets of his life is going to be explored and shared with so many people. I hope you all enjoy the exhibit. Thank you."

The applause that followed was almost thunderous. Y/N smiled as her heart slammed against her ribcage, cameras flashing as she made her way off the stage. She was glad it was finally over as she moved to stand next to Rhodey and Sam. Sam kissed her cheek before he climbed up the stairs to the stage. Rhodey rubbed her back, telling her quietly that she did great. She just nodded in response, her eyes on her friend, watching as Sam leaned the shield against the plexiglass podium.

"Thank you Y/N for making my job a lot harder." Sam teases, causing everyone to chuckle. Y/N smiles right back at him, shaking her head as her friend carries on, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered poising stoically. "

Sam's a natural at this, standing up there like its nothing. And while Y/N should be focused on the speech, her eyes keep drifting down to the shield at his feet.

"The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing," Sam chuckles, picking up the shield, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy, but also, we look to the future. So thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

Y/N feels sick to her stomach as she watches Sam hand the shield off. Her chest feels tight and she-she can't be here. There's a ringing on her ears and she can't breathe. Y/N pushes through the crowd, not bothering with pleasantries as she does it. A dozen emotions rack her body, causing her hands to start to heat up. She forces it down, deep down as she walks into an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Sam gave away the shield.

He gave it away.

Like it was nothing.

And she wants to scream, wants to cry, but it won't come out. Y/N won't let it, not now when she is still in public. She walks over to the sinks, her hands gripping the counter. Her eyes are rimmed with red, eyes all watery. Her red painted lips press into a thin line as she forces herself to not cry, practically glaring at her reflection. What did her therapist tell her to do? Ah yes, breath in and out. In and out.

This was all too much way too soon. She couldn't handle this. She was being bombarded with memories and emotions already and now Sam giving the shield away? She felt like she was going to lose it. A part of her felt like she was overreacting. overthinking this whole situation. And maybe she was. Y/N did that from time to time. Tony had told her she was an expert of making mountains out of molehills. Maybe Sam just didn't want to be Captain America, didn't want to shoulder that burden. That was understandable. It was a shitty, shitty job-one that Sam didn't ask for. He shouldn't be forced to take on the mantle of Captain America, not when the previous owner had tossed it away so carelessly.

Yet, the bigger part of her was incredibly upset. Angry at the fact that Sam handed off the shield to be shelved in a museum. Overwhelmed by the amount of Steve that was everywhere. Confused over the multitudes of feeling that were swarming her body.

And there was nothing she could do about any of them. She just had to grin and bear it, just like she's been doing since Steve decided he much rather spend an entire lifetime with a woman he knew for a few months. So Y/N collected herself, blinked away her tears, and left the bathroom. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the one place she didn't want to be.

The exhibit.

Steve's image is plastered on every single surface, telling the details of every part of his life. Scrawny Steve, bootcamp Steve, darling icon of patriotism during the war Steve, frozen Steve, Battle of Manhattan Steve, cartoon Steve punching Hitler, Steve during Sokovia, Steve on the run. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. He covers every single square inch, which makes sense because this is his exhibit. And while Y/N knows she should just turn on her heel and not put herself through it, she throws caution to the wall. She's already incredibly upset, so she might as well pour gallons and gallons of salt and lemon juice into that open wound.  So she forces herself deeper into the exhibit, running straight into the very last man she wants to see at this moment.

"You know I wasn't expecting to find you here." Sam tells her as soon as her foot enters the next room. She keeps her mouth shut, so he adds "Rhodey is looking for you."

"You know on his right sleeve of his suits, right near his wrist, he had my initials stitched. He told me he wanted to carry a piece of me into every mission, into every fight." Y/N announces as she looks at a picture of Steve on a mission, most likely taken by Natasha. Sam sighs, walking over to her, wanting her to see his point of view.

"Look I know you're upset-" He starts, but is immediately cut off by a dry chuckle slipping out of Y/N's mouth as she walks around the room. She wants to lay in to him, wants to give him a piece of her mind.

"Oh I am far past the point of being "just upset", Wilson. It wasn't yours to give away. I-I don't care if you didn't want the mantle, but..." Her angry words trail off once she realizes what part of the exhibit she has reached, her face dropping.

Y/N stops in front of a part of the exhibit labeled 'Two Heroes United'. Her eyes roam over the pictures of her and Steve's wedding and the pictures taken throughout the duration of their relationship, so much more than what the file Rhodey had left detailed. So many smiles, so much happiness filling each and every picture. Her facade is cracking, chipping away as she forces herself to study every picture, studying their faces over and over, trying to see if there was something she had missed, if-if there was something she could have said or done to hold onto him a little longer. If there was something hidden behind his smile, behind his touches, they don't reveal themselves in the photographs.

She's just a footnote in his life, a blurb at the end of a long story. A tool to make him look like an all-American family man. Bucky and Sam had much larger parts of the exhibit dedicated to their roles in Steve's life and who they are outside of being Steve's friends. Y/N-well Y/N gets this, a paragraph saying that she was on the team and then married Steve. She is just haphazardly tacked onto the story of his life, a cute story to make people feel all warm inside. He got his happily ever after, they'll say-or they'll whisper to one another God she was so lucky to have him. They won't ask if she got her happily ever after or if she feels lucky now.

Sam got to hand off the shield, got to throw away the title of Captain America. He gets to keep on living his life after this, but Y/N-Y/N will always be Steve's wife. And it doesn't matter how many people she saved or what she did with her time on earth, she will only be know for being the wife of the man who abandoned her. Y/N's tied to him for eternity, stuck loving a man who decided to love someone else.

And then, just like that, something inside of her just snaps. Her facade fully crumbles, leaving her unable to mask what she's going through.  Y/N's eyes fill up with tears and she's unable to blink them away before they spill over the edge, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. And as she stood there, crying in the middle of the exhibit dedicated to Steven Grant Rogers, a depressing epiphany popped into her mind.

The shield was the last part of Steve that she had that wasn't tainted in some way, a piece of him that she could still bear to see. And Sam had just given it away, leaving her with nothing but memories that would haunt her.

-

"I watched your speech. You did really good, Y/N." Her therapist praises, giving her a soft smile. Y/N nods, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She had decided to start wearing it again, even though her feelings about Steve were still conflicted. While a part of her thought that this meant she was healing, Y/N knew it was more likely tied to the fact that Sam had given up the shield.

"It-It felt good." Y/N replies, shifting in her seat. She had thought it was a subtle movement, but Dr. Raynor gave her a look. After a few months of court-ordered appointments, the therapist knew Y/N all too well and she sure as hell knew when Y/N wasn't telling the truth.

"Something is upsetting you. What happened?" The doctor questions, clicking her pen. Y/N dreaded the noise. It meant a longer session, more bandaids being ripped off in order to force the wounds into the light. It would mean she would return to her home a little colder, a little emptier.

"Nothing happened. It-I had a good day. A good week." Y/N tries to reassure her, even going as far as to give her what she thought was a honest smile. Dr. Raynor held up her pad of paper, making a show of slowly bring the pen down to the paper. Y/N's smile falls and she looks down at her hands, letting out a small sigh.

"He-Sam gave away the shield. He gave it away like it was nothing." The ex-hero announces, feeling like a scolded child. Raynor lowers her pen and paper, settling back into her seat.

"And you feel like he shouldn't have?"

"No. No, Steve-Steve chose him. Steve gave him the shield because he knew that Sam was good, that Sam could handle it. And-And Sam just gave it away." Y/N stammers, picking at a thread that was hanging off her shirt.

"You know, I think that is the first time you have said his name aloud." Raynor mentions, causing Y/N to stop her movements. The thread is caught between her fingers, pulled taut. The doctor continues, "You always refer to Steve as 'he' or 'him' or 'my husband'. You never say his name."

"I don't think I was ready to be around...Steve. Not that much." Y/N tries to shift the focus, shame filling her, her face feeling hot. She knows she has her reasons not to say his name, but she still felt terrible about not being able to say his name.

"But you still spoke at the opening of his exhibit. I'm sure everyone would more than understand why you couldn't. So why did you decide on speaking?" The therapist asks, taking down a couple notes of her pad of paper. Y/N stays silent for a moment, letting go of the thread to start twisting her ring again.

"I-I don't know. Rhodey asked me and I-I guess I thought I could do it. And the speech wasn't bad I just-I wasn't expecting Sam to give away the shield." Y/N responds, her voice soft. She feels so small, sitting here on this charcoal grey couch. Y/N almost felt...stupid for being so angry at Sam. It wasn't his fault at all and as Y/N said everything out loud, she felt like such an asshole.

"If you would've known that Sam wanted to give the shield away, would you have stopped him?" Dr. Raynor replies, leaning forward slightly as she takes a few notes. Y/N feels herself sinking into the couch.

"I don't know. I-I wish he would have just told me so that we could've talked about it." She answers, looking out of the window. Dark grey clouds filled the sky, blocking out a lot of the sunlight that wanted to shine down on the city. Y/N didn't know if she would have actually forced him to keep the shield. That wasn't on him to have hold on to hat chunk of vibranium. It was wrong for Steve to have thrown that all on Sam. What would be the alternative? For her to keep the shield? Y/N highly doubted that the United States government would allow that.

-

Y/N was watering her garden when her phone started to ring in her back pocket. She quickly moves to shut off the water hose before she slips the phone about her pocket. Sam's name and picture appears on her screen, making uneasiness fill her stomach. Y/N exhales through her noise loudly before answering it, holding the phone against her ears.

"Have you seen the news?" Sam asks, not even letting her get a single syllable out.

"No, I've been outside-What's going on, Sam?" Y/N questions, making her way to the house. Something was definitely wrong. Sam never called her unless it was for emergencies. if they did communicate, it was mainly through texting. Her heartbeat started to race, as did her thoughts. A million different scenarios filled her head, each one worse than the last.

"You need to turn on the news right now." Sam replies as she opens the back door, quickly crossing the kitchen and walking into the living room. Her hands are almost shaking as she picks up the remote, turning the television on. Luckily for her, the last thing she had been watching was the news. Unluckily for her, she was greeted with a man holding the shield-Steve's shield, dressed in what looked like an off-brand, shitty version of the Captain America suit.

Anger filled her body. It had been four days tops since Sam handled off the shield and already, they had found their 'new Captain America'. The man in question was smiling smugly in the ill-fitting suit, waving at the camera, holding onto his shield tightly. God, Y/N wanted to beat the shit of the man and every single person who had okayed this. She could only hear bits and pieces of the speech as the news replayed it, but even that bullshit was too much for her to handle. She muted the television, tossing the remote on the couch.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/N exclaims, her hands getting warm. The Avenger was unable to get to anything articulate as rage filled her. She quickly put the phone on speaker, setting the device down just in case her hands caught flame.

"I know. I know. It's fucking bullshit." Sam replies, sighing. Y/N paced in front of the television, trying to calm herself down before she burned a hole through her rug. On the screen, the fake Cap was talking about something, a saccharine smile spread across his face. Y/N wanted to take that God damn shield and smash his teeth in.

"That asshole has my husband's fucking shield. They-He isn't supposed to be Captain America, okay? It's just not-It's not theirs to give away." Y/N's voice cracks towards the end, tears filling her eyes. While she wasn't Steve's number one fan, she hated that they had already chose someone to take up his title. If Sam wasn't going to be Captain America, then no one should be Captain America.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wouldn't have given away the shield if I would've known...I'm sorry." Sam murmurs over the phone. Y/N covers her face with her almost glowing hands as she tries to control her breathing, not able to respond to Sam’s apologies. Her sadness and anger quickly shifted into something else. 

Something inside of her switched on, something that she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she was a hero, back when she was an Avenger.

Y/N wanted to go to work.

------

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[estrel]

It’s in the Knowing (that Wishes Come True)

destiel december 2020 prompt: sledding + spn advent calendar 2020 prompt: wishes wc: ~1.4k

[READ ON AO3] 

“Dean, you had,” Sam huffs, “infinite possibilities at your disposal. And you wished for–for this?”

Dean’s a little confused, too, looking out at the mountains. Almost every inch is covered with a layer of snow, but by far, the hill they’re standing on has the thickest blanket. Dean’s feet sink into it a little when he shifts his weight, studying their surroundings.

Apart from the clearing they’re in, the place is littered with trees. Dean’s gaze follows the trunks up, until he’s looking at the sky, which is quickly losing light. He thinks he can make out the beginning twinkles of constellations, and when he laughs, a puff of frosty breath obscures them for a moment before fading off.

Then he smells it—something like firewood, he thinks, and turns towards it. Eyes still searching the tops of the trees, Dean catches sight of a thin column of smoke, likely from a cabin nearby.

A few feet away from them, a tree branch packed with snow loses its hold, and the whump of the snow hitting the ground startles Dean out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know, man,” Dean says, “It’s not like I really had a choice. I just, you know, just had this thought, I guess, and now…we’re here.”

He turns back to Sam, who focuses on Dean once more, seemingly having caught sight of the smoke too.

“I’m assuming…those have something to do with it?”

Dean’s eyes follow the direction Sam’s finger is pointing to, which is a somewhere on the ground and behind Dean, off to his left. Just at the edge of the hill sit two sleds—the old, wooden kind that seem like they’re always one good bump away from splintering into a million pieces, but somehow never do.

He chuckles, moving towards them to check them out, when Sam urgently pats his shoulder. Dean swivels around, taking in Sam’s confused—but not shocked—expression, and once more tracks his stare to see what he’s looking at. 

Dean finds himself mirroring his brother, but otherwise smiling despite himself.

“What took you so long?” He hears himself say, feels Sam looking at him weird in response. If this was his “wish,” then this only made sense—it’d just been a matter of waiting for him to show up.

Cas levels him with a stare that says ‘really?’ and Dean moves to meet him half way.

“Jackets,” Cas says, handing Dean a thick black one that looks like it’s meant for snow. Dean takes it. “And Jack,” Cas adds. With a gentle tilt of his head, Dean looks over and sees Jack, not too far away, walking briskly towards them with something small in his hands.

“You two always come out here practically naked,” Cas says, leaving Dean and handing Sam his own jacket. “And the lumberjack outfits are fine for when it’s any other season, but you do realize it’s the dead of winter, right?”

“Well, you…” Dean starts, about to tell him off for the dress shoes and trench coat he’s never seen without, except that Cas isn’t wearing them, he’s…

“Cas, is that—are those—are you wearing boots?” Sam asks, a lilt of amusement in his voice.

Cas looks down, frowning. “These are my snow boots. Dean got them for me last Christmas.” He shoots Dean a confused glance, as though Dean should be in on this, and Sam was the one acting deluded. Dean can’t really bring himself to care, too busy smiling at the rest of Cas’ outfit.

He’s about to comment on the snow pants, which are black and baggy over Cas’ lower half, but Jack makes it to them just in time, pushing something into Cas’ chest.

“You forgot your beanie,” Jack explains, and then looking up at them, “I thought you guys came out ahead of us so you could ‘get the sleds ready.’ Cas and I started on the cookies so they should be done by the time we get back.”

Dean watches Cas slip the beanie on, losing his breath a little at the sight. The thought occurs to him—when he’s looking long enough to notice Cas’ red nose and ears and cheeks—that angels don’t usually get cold.

“Hang on—you left the oven on unattended?” Sam says. Pulling his eyes away from Cas, Dean chuckles at the wild look on Sam’s face, like he’s half ready to bolt for the cabin to stop it from catching fire.

“Of course not.” Jack frowns at him like he should know better. “I charmed it with the spell you taught me. It’ll shut off automatically when it’s done.”

Sam relaxes, forcing a smile. “Right. Uh, Dean? Can we talk for a second?”

Dean follows him around to the nearest tree, which is far enough away that Jack and Cas probably won’t hear them over their own conversation (Dean thinks he hears something about hot chocolate) if they talk quietly enough.

“We can’t stay here,” Sam says, “We have to find a way out.”

Dean wets his lips, “I know, Sammy, but…” He looks over at Jack and Cas.

Sam is quiet for a second before he notes, “You want to stay.”

He shrugs. “Just…just for a little while longer. We can–we can go sledding, eh? We haven’t done that since we were kids! And then—then we can figure out a way out of here.”

Sam has a look of growing concern on his face, something Dean thinks is teetering too close to pity.

“What?” He jokes, “You’re telling me you don’t wanna see those two sled? It’s not for us, Sam, it’s for the nerdy angels over there.”

His brother manages a smile, which is a relief. “Sure,” he says gently. Dean pretends not to hear it, heading now for the sleds and waving them all over.

He pulls the sleds apart, placing them each by the hill’s edge, but not so close that sitting on them would be enough to send them flying down the slope.

“Okay,” Dean starts, “How do we want to do this?”

Dean knows the answer before anyone says it. Better stated: he knows his wish before anyone else does.

“The logical route would be to pair up,” Cas says seriously, “You and Sam have done this before, so each of you gets a sled.”

Dean feels his chest go tight with anticipation for a second, and then it subsides. He nods.

“Good idea. Who—”

“I’ll go with Jack,” Sam interrupts, a wry smile on his face. Dean quirks his lips in a smile, cocking his head to the side in a mild ‘screw you’ gesture to his brother. He turns to Cas.

“Well, hop on then Louise and we’ll sail off this cliff together,” Dean says. He waits for the recognition to spark in Cas’ eyes and he smiles—for real this time—as Cas situates himself in the front of the sled. He spares Jack and Sam a glance, amused at how Sam is struggling not to take up most of the sled with his legs, before sitting down behind Cas. 

And he stays like that for a moment, sitting awkwardly and gathering his courage, until he musters up enough to wrap his legs around him.

“I’m nervous,” he hears Jack say. Dean thinks, Me too. Sam laughs and reassures Jack that it’ll be fine.

“Okay, uh, you’re gonna have to lean back once we kick off, alright?” Dean instructs, trying to remember how to do this. 

“You promise I won’t fall?” 

Dean swallows. “Nah. I’ll hang on to you.”

“Let’s race,” Sam says. He can feel him staring and avoids Sam’s gaze. He’ll blame the tint on his cheeks and ears on the cold, if Sam ever asks. 

Dean scoffs, “You’ll lose.”

“Prove it,” Sam responds, and then he’s pushing off and leaving them in the dust.

Dean’s surprised by the laugh that escapes him, and then he’s pushing off too, and he and Cas are propelled down the snowy slope after the others.

Cas leans back as instructed. Dean’s pretty sure the guy can feel the rush of his heartbeat with his back on Dean’s chest like that, but Dean can also feel Cas’ steel grips on his legs, nails digging into his shins. 

He laces an arm around Cas’ chest, pressing him closer. “I’ve got you!” he reminds him. 

There’s a beat, and then over the sound of the wind whipping against their faces, Cas says, “I know.”

-

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[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond - Episode of Amnesia Island III 05

The following is a work of fan fiction by Joshua D. Tarwater and is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.* *SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS retains full rights over the Sonic the Hedgehog™ intellectual property and can terminate or take control of this work at any time.

~EPISODE OF AMNESIA ISLAND III 05~

★Enemies.

Two forces at odd with each other for some reason or another. For most of the world their enemy was clearly would-be conqueror Doctor Eggman. But he had no presence on Amnesia Island save for mention on the radio that Rosy listened to. Yet she and Tempest had still managed to make enemies. The Empire. Yoluku. And now floating stone statues that were rising from the beach turned grassy field all around them. But Rosy for all of her exploring and adventuring was no fighter yet, and her wellbeing fell on Tempest as he fought their new enemies.

Bolt of lightning erupting from speck of Darkness Encircling Sky Ring struck again and again Blue skies dressed in clouds A building wind carrying seed and grass Joined by stone shaped like muscled arms and torso Green gems gathering light Two hedgehogs surrounded

“What are these things!” Tempest shouted in alarm as he dashed to the side dodging a beam of green energy fired from the neck replacing green gem of the floating statues. Scooping up Rosy in his left arm, he met a statue’s thrown punch with his curled and swelling in size right fist. “They can even deflect my right arm!”

“I told you to run, dummy!” Rosy yelled at Tempest as he skipped backwards and away from several more energy beams striking the ground where he had been.

There really wasn’t any room for Tempest to run however as the statues had them surrounded, yet Tempest did not find himself in danger, especially as Rings sprung up out of the ground where the energy beams struck. But as confident as he was in being able to keep himself safe against the assailing statues, Rosy was less safe, especially with Tempest swinging, swelling, and elongating his arm to fight back the statues. “Kya~!”

“Rosy!”

“You dummy Tempest! Your arm dripped on me!”

“Crap!” Tempest swore as he looked down at Rosy and saw sure enough a growth of crystals slowly crawling up her left foot, coating her in the same Darkness that comprised his arm behind them. “Just hold tight Rosy, I’ll deal with these guys and try to get it off of you!”

“Just hurry up! This isn’t the best time for your arm to try and eat me!”

“Well, fast is one thing I’m sure I’m good at, but I’ might need a little extra encouragement!”

“Oh, well I know you can do iiIIII~?!”

“Sorry, not what I meant!” Tempest apologized as he let Rosy go as he suddenly spun, catching her in his right arm, an eruption of crystals appearing where the darkness met Rosy’s rump. What made her scream however was Tempest then hurled her skyward, the Darkness that had been clinging to her pulling free and dissipating in Ring matching motes of Darkness and bringing a smile to his face. “I was right, it would work!

“Still, you guys making me test something out without Rosy’s permission, I’ll have to beat you into rubble!”

As Rosy continued to careen skyward, screaming all the while, Tempest put together a combo of his right arm punches and whiplike claw strikes with his instinctual use of Sonic’s signature Spin Attack and Spin Dash, using his hedgehog ability to turn into a ball with his speed to blitz the surrounding statues. They resisted his best efforts however until he got fed up with being shot at.

“Enough of that!” Tempest growled through gritted teeth as he caught a statue’s fist with his right arm and slammed it to the ground, an instant after revving a Spin Dash and launching himself straight up its arm and into the green gem atop it.

The impact of black hedgehog and green gem shattered the gem and the statue crumbled into dust, a small seed shaped light launching up into the air above it. “What…”

Distracted by the seed, Tempest was punched away from his point of victory over one statue by another, his carried Rings scattering as they protected him from the damage the blow would have caused. Tempest gritted his teeth as he pushed himself up with his arms and looked back at the golems but was distracted as Rosy’s screaming became coherent.

“TEMPEST~!!”

Looking up, he saw Rosy was well on her way back down and performed a somersault from a push-up and stretched his right arm out to snatch her safely from the air, pulling himself to her to avoid the next barrage of statue-based energy beam.

“Sorry about that Rosy, but these guys are tougher than they look,” Tempest apologized, as he switched Rosy to his left arm, extending his right to snag a distant tree branch and pull the spreading darkness free of Rosy. “But look, I’ve come up with a way to get the Darkness from my arm off of you!”

“This isn’t the time to celebrate that, Tempest!” Rosy cried, before calming herself down and offering him a tiny smile. “But I am proud of you. Good job~♥”

“YAHOO~!!” Tempest shouted with joy at Rosy’s praise, the light from his crystals shining blue as he swung from the tree branch and through the canopy of Amnesia Island’s forest, collecting more Rings along the way. But his joyous shout was cut short as a beam of green energy knocked him out of the sky. ”GYAH~!!”

The familiar jingle of lost Rings filled the air, and Tempest and Rosy crashed to the ground rolling over each other and apart.

“How’d they hit us from way up there!” Rosy whined as she looked around, to see even more statues appearing in the forest, including stone spheres that appeared as giant eyes due to the placement of their own green gems. “Oh! There’s more than one type…”

A bead of sweat rolled down Rosy’s cheek as she realized that whatever the statues were, covered in moss and lichen, they were more diverse than she had realized having just encountered them. Yet it was the first type, the muscular arms and torso type, that suddenly appeared above her. “Uh oh…

“!?” Rosy made to move, but she couldn’t move her legs, and as she looked down, she saw a fine belt of crystals crawling up her torso, already having left everything from her waist down coated in Darkness. “Tempe~st!”

“Keep away from her!” Tempest yelled as his arm stretched past Rosy, and shot up, his claws shredding the green gem of the statue.

As another seed of light burst free, Tempest was prevented from grabbing Rosy as he retracted his arm as one of the floating eyes dropped down and rolled into him, winding up his arm like yo-yo string.

“Tempest!” Rosy shouted in horror, as she did not see any Rings fly free of his person as the spherical statue bowled over the black hedgehog. She could not get up to rush after him however as the crystals crawling up her reached her neck and began to glow red in response to Tempest’s obvious pain and anger. “Let me go so I can help him you dumb arm!”

For all of her shouting, Rosy could not move as even though her arms were not yet coated , they were as useless as limp noodles as the crystals began crawling out towards her hands too. Helpless to do anything, she flopped down in the freshly gown grass on the forest floor and lost her mouth to the crystals and Darkness. Struggling to look up, she saw the freed seed of light falling straight down towards her nose tip. But as the crystals crawled over that she could not even wriggle it to avoid the seed landing upon her nose.

“Look at each other!” a familiar female voice cried out from between Tempest and Rosy as in a flash of golden light a Ring appeared and magnified the space between the two hedgehogs. “It’s your only way out! Just trust me, please!”

Recognizing the voice of the fairy, Mote, Rosy noticed the beating wings of the yellow teardrop shaped creature beneath the Ring. But as the spreading crystals threatened to crawl over her eyes next, she focused on looking through the Ring, and met Tempest’s eyes just before the seed of light landed on the tip of her nose and the crystals crawled up over her eyes leaving her in Darkness after a flash of light.

Having enemies, but no means to fight left Rosy in a dire situation and made Tempest’s situation that much worse. Whether his arm’s attempted consumption of Rosy was to protect her or for some other purpose mattered not as it also served as an enemy in the moment of need for the two hedgehogs. After all, if Tempest could not collect another Ring before taking too much damage, the Rings could separate the two with Rosy lost to wherever she had fallen in the forest and Tempest brought to the last safe point the Rings remembered him at and whole. Unless there was something to the desperate attempt of the fairy to forge a Ring Bond between the two.★

EPISODE OF AMNESIA ISLAND III 05 - END

-----

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic The Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement.

The Sonic Ring Bond alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and IP research which can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

The Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond story are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein, regardless of creator, context, use/ function, intent, and time of creation, considered for all legal purposes without contest, compensation, employment, or offer of employment, liability, etcetera, the property of the Sonic The Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS regardless of having read or possessing awareness of this disclaimer.

Sonic The Hedgehog Copyright© 1990-2022 SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Out of the closet

Pride Collection 2021 June 5th

Pairing: AU! Sam W. x Sister!Reader

Pov: Y/n

Warnings: Coming out, support from a family member. Mentions of Dean and John.

Summary: Finally feeling comfortable you tell Sam your biggest secret, but you think NO you know he can handle it seeing as he is your big brother.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N- Bisexual, @firefly-graphics for the bisexual dividers Supposed to be posted on the 5th of June, but was unfortunately postponed to the 6th of June

Sam Winchester Master List

Main Master List

Pride Collection Master List 2021

Today is the day that I'm going to tell Sam my most important secret.

I've had this secret for years now. It started my last year in high school, and with Sam being the older brother is, when he left for college he took me with him.

Anyways, He got me set up in an apartment, he came and visited me every other day. Going to class, and just being normal was nice, and it lasted for a while.

There was a party for the seniors that year. I toyed with the idea of dressing up and going out or just stayin' home and studying. I was very much Sammy when it came to my schooling. Something that I'd just learned from him over the years.

I just made a choice deciding that one night of partying wouldn't hurt me or my schooling. So I dressed up in a short red dress, black flats, and the only thing I had taken with me before leaving Dean and John.

Slipping into a black jacket that was a size too big, but smelled like my older brother Dean. I grabbed my keys and left. I had never gone to a party if you don't include the father-daughter dance that John half-ass took me to the Sam ended up having to save me from. Or the random school dances that I had.

Showing up to this party everyone's eyes were on me. It was a weird sensation to be stared at but in a sorta good way. In a way that made me wonder.

Very quickly I had a few guys surrounding me, their actions were pointless as I ignored them, and I left them to discuss between themselves. One good thing that John has taught me was not to take shit from anyone, I think he forgot that also meant him.

But regardless of that, I went to go see if I could find a few friends. I was met with a beautiful woman, her long legs covered in jeans with thigh-laced-up boots and a relieving t-shirt.

It didn't click then, or later on when I was tapped on the shoulder by a taller version of the woman. He had short blonde hair, dressed like every other jock, but the immediate feeling, sense I got from him was nothing but lust.

Now it's been seven years, seven years for me to try out things with many different people, and figuring myself out along the way. I've come to the conclusion that I don't just like the men that serve me coffee in the morning, or the women that I do yoga with.

Sam's older now, just by a year his beautiful wife and his kids, live in a small starter home at the end of our quiet town. Sam's wife has always taken a liking to me. And their kiddos call me Auntie.

It all around a great part of my life to be around my family. To be around so much love and admiration for each other. But the fear of saying the truth, the fear of telling my older brother makes me worry.

Makes me worry that I'll spill the truth on a silver platter and be told I'm not worthy of that love and admiration that I crave to have, that I enjoy seeing.

Sometimes it floats around, I can see even if it for just a brief moment. I can it flutter around Sam's kids, or him and his wife the way they share just a longing happy look for each other.

"I hate to bother you two live birds, but I was wondering if I could take the kiddos out for ice cream?" I ask Sammy, he smiles and says "Sure just be careful. Love ya." I gather their two kids up and well chase each other to my car.

In moments like this, I sometimes wish I already had kids. I also wish that their uncle and grandfather could be here to see them grow and flourish into strong men and strong women.

But regardless, we listen and sing along to a special playlist that we made together. Just a thing for the three of us to enjoy. "Auntie, play our songs please!"

Sam's youngest says her politeness reminds me of him. "Yeah, Auntie you gotta play our songs and sing along with us this time!" Sams oldest screams, he looks like Sam, but in reality, has the personality and swagger of Sam's wife.

We make it to our favorite ice cream place. They always get the same things, no matter the time of the season. "You two outta try something different," I say to them, they give me a look of 'How dare you to tell me to get something different.' I giggle, and we walk out to the shop.

Getting the kiddos back, and in bed was a task. They gave their kisses to me, and then to Sam. Their mother takes them to bed, so nows it's just my brother and me. "Good night pumpkins, Auntie loves you," I say Watching the two of them holding their hands and walk down the hallway.

There's no better time to tell him.

"Hey, are you okay Y/n?" Sam asks an almost empty beer in his hand. He's sitting across from me at the dinner table. I'm in my own thoughts, I'm brought back when I feel Sam's socked foot hit the bottom of my foot.

"Yeah, you could say that I'm okay," I say back, I'm starting to worry about what he might say, maybe I shouldn't say anything.

"Look, I'm your older brother, I know when somethin' is bothering you," Sam says with a hopeful look. I frown, I might as well say the truth, that's something that Sam and I promised each other when we left Dean and John.

"Nothing is bothering me, Sammy, I just need to say something to you and I don't know how to phrase it." He puts his beer down and get's up grabbing my hand and taking me outside.

He'd always done this with me when we were younger. Dragging me to the open yard, he plopped down to the grass and drug me with him. He'd tell me when I was young, to look up in the sky and feel the earth below me. To let go of worries, and be calm be thoughtful.

"Sam, what are we doing out here? We aren't kids anymore." I said closing my eyes. "Y/n just please, do this for me. Maybe you'll figure out a way to phrase your thoughts." He said

I thought as he told me to do. It was nice to feel everything around me and not so much worry about things. "Are you better now Y/n?" Sam asked, I opened my eyes and smiled.

"A little yeah," I said, I might as well just say it, let it be in the open. Regardless of what Sam may think, or even say I'm just going to go for it. That's at least one major thing, Sammy, as taught me over the years.

"Sammy.. I've thought long and hard about telling you and even saying this out loud, but I'm bisexual," I said getting up and looking at my older brother.

He'd yet to give me a reaction, no change in his facial expression, no words yet spoken. It was just quiet, the weird unsettling silence, that gives me anxiety. Makes me worry that the sweet moment between a brother and his sister will forever be lost, that I'll never get to see my nephew and niece again.

But before I know it I'm encased in Sam's overbearing arms, he's hugging me tightly, reassuring me that he loves me, tell me that he proud of me. Everything thought that I had was wrong. He's my brother, after all, he knows me better than anyone.

"Can I ask a question, peanut?" He said, using a nickname he'd used many years ago. We were still hugging, I hummed. "Am I the first person you've officially told?" Sam asked.

I thought a minute, my partners that I'd been with hadn't really known, so yeah Sam was the first to know. "Yeah, I think you are Sammy," I said holding on tight to his hug.

"I just want you to know that I love you, and I'm always here for you peanut. Why don't you and I go out for the weekend tomorrow? Spend some quality time together?!" He asked. I smiled and hummed.

There was nothing better than being excepted and loved. Not only that but it also felt like a thousand-pound rock had been lifted from my shoulders by telling Sam.

Completed on: 06/05/2021

Posted on: 06/06/2021

Tag List: @sweetdetectivequeen @wonderfulworldofwinchester @hobby27 @fofisstilinski @doctorlilo

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Simple Man

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3351

Summary: It was never what he thought he would have. But now Dean doesn’t want to let go. 

Notes: I was going to wait and make this a Thanksgiving special, but I thought today would be more fitting. I can’t believe Supernatural ends tonight! This show has been a part of my life for a while now and it will forever stay in my heart.  I had a really really good time writing this one. It might be one of my favorites I’ve written for Dean, if not my top pick. I hope you guys enjoy it and look forward to seeing more. Carry on. 

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

(P.S. thank you to my beta reader @suckmysupernatural​. Love you!)

-

Oh, take your time, don’t live to fast

Troubles will come and they will pass 

He had slept through an alarm he didn’t remember setting. It wasn’t until he heard the creaking of the door that he stirred, reaching under his pillow for his knife. But it wasn’t there. Dean panicked as footsteps crept towards him. They were nothing more than a small pitter-patter on the wood floor, but he still prepared himself for the attack. The small creature leapt on top of him and he rolled over so he was pinning it beneath him. It giggled. It giggled?

“Daddy, Mom said she needs you in the kitchen.” 

Dean leaned over to the night stand and turned on the lamp. A little green eyed girl squirmed out from underneath him and skipped out of the room. 

“The hell…” Dean muttered. He opened the dresser and sure enough, his clothes sat in the drawers. He put on a T-shirt and slowly walked out of the room. The smell of bacon and coffee coaxed him to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 

You were standing over the stove, trying to save the bacon from burning. Dean was just frozen in the doorway. Finally spotting him, you made your way over to him, which was difficult with the little boy clinging to your leg. 

“Thank God you’re up. I need you to finish making breakfast.” You lifted the boy into your arms. “Eric’s got a fever and Ellie is going to wake up any second needing to be fed.” You gently laid a hand on Eric’s forehead. “I’ll call the doctor as soon as I get him to lay down. But you know how impossible that is.” 

“But I’m not tired.” Eric whined. 

“I know, sweetie, but you don’t want to get sicker, do you?” He pouted his lip and shook his head. “Alright, so I need you to go back to bed.” You looked back at Dean. “Can you just finish the bacon? I’ll be back to make their toast.” 

Before Dean could speak, you rushed up the stairs. As if on queue, a baby started to cry from somewhere upstairs. Dean just stood in shock. What the hell was going on?

As if by second nature, he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel to let the bacon drain off the grease. It felt almost natural. He somehow knew where everything was, even though he had never been here. Or had he? His brain was fuzzy with thoughts he couldn't remember. He saw images flash in his mind. Sam graduating from Stanford. His parents celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. You… in a wedding dress. 

“Johanna Charlotte Winchester you better be ready for school or your dad’s going to come and get you!” You yelled, coming back into the kitchen, this time a wailing baby in your arms. It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed you were wearing a sheriff’s uniform. You snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in your mouth. “Thank you.”

You bounced the baby in your arms, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. The green eyed little girl from early came bounding into the room with her backpack over one shoulder. Ellie continued to bawl. 

“Can you hold her? She always stops crying when you hold her.” You handed the squirming child to him and he tried not to panic. You noticed your husband’s awkwardness. “Rough morning?” You snickered. “Here, I’ll make you some coffee.” 

As the child in his arms slowly stopped her crying, more memories flooded Dean’s head. You telling him you were pregnant for the first time. Going to the emergency room for the birth of his son. Watching Johanna hold her new baby sister. They all felt like dreams, but then how was this all real? 

“I’m feeling a little... off this morning.” He admitted, watching you carefully as if he were waiting for horns to sprout from your forehead. Your face fell. 

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sick too.” You put your hand on his forehead. “You’re picking everyone up from the airport today.” 

“Everyone?” Dean’s brows furrowed curiously. 

“I would go get them, but I’m at the station until five.” You sighed, moving your hand down to caress his cheek. “Besides, you’ve been dying to see your brother since the Fourth of July.” 

“Uncle Sam!” Jo exclaimed excitedly. 

“Sammy’s coming?” Dean asked. Finally, something familiar. Your face contorted with confusion. 

“Of course he’s coming. Jessica and the kids are too. They always help prepare for tomorrow and since your parents will still be out on their cruise, we’ll need all the help we can get.” 

“Tomorrow...” He spotted the calendar on the wall, but you answered first. 

“Thanksgiving.” You stated. Your confusion changed to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay home?” Jo raised her hand. 

“Can I stay home too?” 

“Sweetheart, it’s just one more half-day of school before break and then you’ll get to play with your cousins for the rest of the week.” Seeing you start to get stressed, Dean put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You go to work. I’m fine.” He assured you. “I’ll hold down the fort and I’ll pick up Sam at- what time again?”

“3:00.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I know you worked extra last week so you could have the garage closed for Thanksgiving, but I think the fumes might have gone to your head.” You grabbed the keys off the counter. “Oh, and I’ll be taking Baby to work since you’ll need the van to fit everyone.” His look of displeasure made you laugh. “I know, I know, but you’ll have to suck it up for today unless you think the four-year-old can babysit.” 

You kiss Ellie on the forehead before giving Dean a quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. You held out your hand for your daughter to take. 

“Alright, partner, let’s go.” 

The two of you leave and Dean looks down at the baby in his arms. Was this really happening? 

-

Boy don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself

Follow your heart and nothing else

If he was trapped by a djinn, he would have remembered fighting it. This was something else. The more time he spent in the house, the more this world felt real and his hunting life felt like dreams. Maybe… maybe this was real. 

He remembered everything now. He had met you in a bar on New Years Eve. You hit it off talking about cars and classic rock. He proposed about two years later outside that same bar during the first snow of the season. You always said the first snow was the best one. You got married and a couple months later found out you were pregnant with Jo. Johanna Charlotte Winchester was born on April 3, 2007. She was seven. Three years later, Eric Samuel was born on November 29th. He was four. Lastly, Ellen Sandra was born six months ago tomorrow on May 27, 2014. 

Sammy had a family of his own. He married Jessica right out of law school and the two had two boys; Josh, 8, and Michael, 6. Their families stayed close, even though Sam was in California and Dean in Kansas. They were happy. 

If this wasn’t real, how could he remember all that? 

3:00 rolled around and Eric’s fever had gone down. He called you to make sure it would be okay to take him along to the airport. You told him that as long as he was feeling okay, it should be fine. The doctor said it sounded like the heat in his room was too high. Dean buckled Eric into his carseat and Ellie in her carrier. While Johanna almost looked like a mini-girl version of him, Eric looked like you. His eyes were yours, along with his hair color and his nose. Ellie looked like a fair mix of both. 

Jessica was the first one to greet him since Sam was busy carrying the boys’ bags. He hugged her tight and couldn’t stop beaming. 

“It’s so good to see you guys.” He smiled and she gave him a sunny grin in return. 

“I know Sam’s been eager to see you and the family for a long time. Of course, I’m only here for the food.” She teased and he pulled her into another hug. 

“I can’t believe this.” Dean sighed happily. Sam and Jessica. Him and you. One big happy family. 

“Do I get a hug, or are just going to hog my wife?” Sam snarked, setting down the bags as Dean nearly tackled him. Sam laughed, struggling to breathe in his brother’s crushing hug. “I missed you too, Dean.” 

“Uncle Sam!” Eric cheered, clinging to Sam’s leg. 

“Hey buddy.” Sam smiled, lifting his nephew into his arms. Jessica peaked into the baby carrier Dean had set on the bench. 

“Look at how big she’s gotten.” She awed. Ellie was asleep, so she spoke quietly. Jess frowned, finally noticing the two brown haired boys fighting over one of their comics. “Josh, stop pushing your brother.” She scolded. 

“He took my comic!” The older of the two retorted. Jessica just gave him a stern look and he surrendered. 

“Michael, give it back when you’re done reading.” Sam ruffled his youngest son’s hair. Dean knelt down. 

“So are you two tough guys too cool to give your uncle a hug, or what?” He pulled his nephews into a warm embrace. “Are you both taller? You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Dean pat Josh on the back. “You’re gonna be taller than your dad before you know it.” 

“You know, you’d see them more if you flew out to California.” Jessica noted. Dean’s eyes widened. She laughed. “I know, I know, you have a thing about flying.” 

“I want to go to California!” Eric exclaimed.

“One of these days, we can go on a roadtrip in Baby to Uncle Sam and Aunt Jessica’s, how does that sound?” Dean promised. Eric nodded, excitedly wriggling in Sam’s arms. 

Everyone loaded up into the van, Sam sliding into the passenger seat. Dean had to laugh. This was just so crazy. Here they were, driving in a van packed full of children. Their children. He thought of all of the times Sam sat beside him in the impala, the two weary from a hunt. It felt like a different lifetime. Like a different world. It felt less real. 

-

You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love

And don’t forget son, there is someone up above

Four children ran around the backyard, jumping in leaf piles and chasing each other with sticks. Jo seemed to rule the yard, keeping her older cousin at bay with her stubborn persistence. Dean smiled proudly. 

“She’s quite the pistol.” Jessica noted with a laugh, jutting her head towards Johanna. She was sitting beside you, bouncing her baby niece in her arms. 

“I wonder where she gets that from.” You gave your husband a smirk. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I love you so much.” He whispered. The tone in his voice made you glance up at him. He was watching you with intensity in his eyes. So much love and yet… there was pain there. 

“I love you too.” You laced your fingers with his, your concern evident in your voice. “Dean, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird all day.” You spoke quietly so you wouldn’t worry your brother-in-law. Your husband gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m fine, really. I’m just…”  Dean felt an overwhelming wave of emotion and choked back tears. “Really happy.” He lifted your chin up, bringing your lips to his. Everything was perfect, right down to the way your lips fit perfectly against his. He knew, without a doubt, that this was real. 

Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. Sam’s boys slept on the pull-out couch in the basement. Eric was exhausted from a day of excitement, as well as his baby sister. Dean was charged with the task of putting a rambunctious Johanna to bed. 

“I want to stay up and drink beer like a big kid.” She pouted, making the adults in the room chuckle. Dean crouched down and picked her up. 

“Alright, here’s the deal. I promise that when you’re a big kid like me and your mom, then you can stay up and have a drink with us. But until then, you’re gonna be my little deputy right?” He tapped the golden plastic badge that she never took off. Jo grinned from ear to ear and nodded. Humming a Bob Segar tune, he took her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed. 

When he came back down stairs, his brother and the two women were smirking at him. 

“What?” You and Jessica exchanged a look and burst out laughing. “Come on, what?”

“That girl has you wrapped around her finger, Dean.” Jessica snickered. You took a sip of your beer. 

“Oh, he’s like that with Ellie, too. He dotes on them like you wouldn’t believe. One little pout from Johanna and he melts.” You couldn’t help but beam at your husband. You loved the way he was with the kids. 

“I got her in bed, didn’t I?” Dean huffed, taking his seat beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Sam shook his head. 

“It’s all in the looks, brother. You may think you’ve one this round, but I saw the look in Jo’s eyes.” Sam gave his brother a sure nod. “She knows where she stands.” 

“At least I’ve got Eric,” You sighed teasingly. “He’s a mama's boy, through and through.” 

You curled up beside Dean, comfortable in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head.

The hours passed with plenty of laughter and love. Soon, it was getting close to 11:00 and you wanted to get plenty of rest for the busy day tomorrow. Everyone would be helping prepare the massive Thanksgiving meal that the Winchesters made every year. Sam and Jessica said goodnight and headed to the guest room while you and Dean made your way upstairs. 

You reached your rooms and Dean’s hands found your waist, his lips trailing up your shoulder to your neck. You leaned back into his embrace, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his golden-brown hair. His hands started to wander and you sighed mournfully. 

“Baby, we both have to be up in the morning.” You groaned, breaking away from him. When you turned around, he was pouting, his green eyes big and sad. So that’s where Johanna got it. He was just so impossible to resist, but if you didn’t go to bed now, you’d be exhausted before dinner even started. You draped your arms around his neck. “I’ll tell you what; how about we get a good night’s sleep tonight…” you pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “and I’ll give you something to be really thankful for tomorrow.” 

Dean’s eyes widened and his smirk spread into a smile. 

“Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal.” He loved the way that sounded coming from his lips. Mrs. Winchester. 

You gave him a long and passionate goodnight kiss before changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed. 

It must have been around 12:30 when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was on your nightstand, so you were awakened by the sound first. Dean moved to get up, but you stopped him. 

“I’ll get her.” You sleepily shuffled out of the bedroom. Reaching the hall, you muttered something that your half-asleep husband only half comprehended. Something about the electricity acting up again. 

The crying continued and you didn’t return. Dean yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and got out of bed. He slowly made his way down the hallway to the nursery. The door was ajar and the lamp had been turned on. You must have gone downstairs to get her a bottle. 

Dean picked up his crying daughter, rocking her soothingly in his arms. She wailed and wailed until she heard his voice. 

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.” He hushed. After a moment of rocking and soft whispers, Ellie started to settle down. As soon as her cries reduced to the occasional sniff, Dean set her back in her cradle. “That’s it. You’re going to be just fine. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.” 

Smiling down at his beautiful baby girl, Dean felt something on the back of his neck. When he touched it, his hand came away red. He froze, and as if his body went into auto pilot, he turned around. At first he couldn’t scream. He just stared. 

Your mouth gaped at him, your eyes filled with terror and pain as the blood spread out from your stomach. Ellie started to cry again. 

“No!” Dean screamed. That’s when the fire started. 

And that’s when he woke up.

-

And be a simple kind of man

Oh, be something you love and understand

Dean sat straight up, sweat soaking through his t-shirt, his scream still on his lips. The cool air of the bunker made him shiver. He couldn’t breathe. He heaved and coughed as if the smoke really filled his lungs. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump out of the bed and flatten himself against the wall, holding out his fists to fight. 

“Dean?” You rose slowly, walking towards him cautiously. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” 

He just stared at you, taking in every feature. You watched his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble as he tried to speak. Nothing came out, just a strangled sounding cry. Dean fell to his knees and you rushed to hold him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare. 

Dean wrapped his arms around your middle and leaned his head against your stomach as you soothingly ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t make any sound as he cried, but the tears fell endlessly down his face. He was shaking in your arms. 

“Dean, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” You whispered. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken suddenly from a dream, but it had never been like this. 

You told him that you were pregnant today. He seemed happy. Shocked, but happy. But now? Whatever was going through his head was breaking him. You sunk down in front of him so you could hold him fully, letting him cry into your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally choked out. “I’m sorry that this is all I can give you. I’m sorry that we don’t have a big house full of kids. That Sam has lost any chance at happiness. That we can never have a normal life.” You pushed back. 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m sorry that this baby is going to grow up haunted and broken… just like me.” His voice cracked. You put a hand on his cheek. 

“Dean…” You pressed your forehead against his, feeling your own tears start to fall. “This baby is going to be loved and wanted and cherished, just like you.” You kissed him gently, reminding him of your adoration of this hero of a man. 

Dean held you closer, letting your words sink into his heart. He wanted to believe it. He wanted more than anything to believe it. Even in his beautiful dream, you ended up burned and bloody. Even in his dream, he was broken. 

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He would try like hell to give you a life as close to perfect as he could manage. Maybe that meant hunting together until you went down guns blazing. Maybe that meant settling down, someday, somewhere. He would try. 

Baby be a simple kind of man

Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks​ Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

[jay-and-dean]

More like him

Dean x reader

So I had this request :

I loved it, but it was a real challenge because I thing it wouldn’t be really “Dean like” to go on a diet. It took me months to manage to be satisfied by it. I really hope you like it. Oh, and I added a little Smut, couldn’t help it.

For me this fic is kinda part of the Become that Girl “saga”.

Warning : Swearing. Sassy Sam. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors and drinking. Jealous Dean. Insecurities. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Angst. Fluffy Fluff.

This is both in Reader’s Pov and Dean’s Pov

Words : 10.3 k (yes. You asked for it.)

Jay’s MASTERLIST

Dean’s Pov

             A grunt and a yawn. I turn around, a little pain in my neck from sleeping on the same position for hours.

           I drank too much last night, again. My arm blindly searches for a bottle of water in the deep dark of my windowless room to fight the intense dry feeling in my mouth, but I find nothing.

“Shit.”

           One more night in a shady bar, one more hangover, and one more woman I won’t remember.

           Woman…

           I frown with my eyes still closed and think of her, my stomach gets sick. She was among the prettiest girl I have been with, and she was a little too young for me, I’m sure she wasn’t twenty-five yet. I remember her friends, young and fit boys and girls, celebrating a birthday.

           It’s really something how you see things differently when you’re drunk and when you are not. Maybe that’s why I drink so much : the sober truth gives me the creeps. Yesterday, I was feeling lucky, honored that a beautiful woman had laid her eyes on me, amazed by how confident she was. It felt like I had won the lottery of life, sex life at least. I was on top of the world, I could barely walk straight, but I didn’t care.

           This morning is different. I lay here, nausea making me sweat, disgusted by my own smell and the taste in my mouth, wondering how I came home. I drove Baby drunk like Hell, I could have hurt someone, or damaged her.

“Shit” I grunt again.

How pathetic it is to go look for a college girl to feel alive ? How pathetic it is to spend the whole time we spent together too focused on trying not to be too old or too drunk to actually enjoy any of it ? How pathetic it is to think of another woman, the very second my eyes open ?

I need coffee.

           I get up and make my way to the bathroom to pee and take a shower, I can’t stand the smell on me : alcohol sweat, the detergent of the cheap motel room I took not to bring her to our secret home, and, well, shame.

           After brushing my teeth, I drink all I can from the sink and wonder if she is here. I really hope she is.

Y/n.

The woman I call my friend. The person that have actually been my closest friend with Benny and Cas, maybe even closer. If she’s in the kitchen, she will make fun of me, she will make loud pan noises just to make my headache worse because she says hangover is not enough punishment for hurting my body like that. But in the end, she will probably order pizzas and spend the day with me in the Dean cave not really watching movies while talking about any kind of stuff from hunts to music, from social matters to memories, food -she talks about food a lot, with sparkles in her eyes-, movies, sharks during shark week, horror movie clichés, her childhood, mine, and really intimate things like Hell, Purgatory, like my mom, her dad, our dreams...

I didn’t know I had so much dreams.

           I put on underwear and the grey robe, then shuffle my way to the kitchen in the slippers that makes her call me grandpa.

           Sam is there. All energetic, dressed with those black sweatpants and this ridiculously tight shirt, he's pressing oranges or whatever, and it's noisy as hell.

"Can't you be quite in the morning ?" I groan with a pained frown, sitting with my coffee in front of me.

"Morning ? It's noon, Dean. So, how was last night ? I guess it must have been great considering how late you came back."

"You heard me come back ?" I ask, wondering how late it actually was.

"No, but Y/n waited for you, and around five a.m. she thought you weren't coming home at all, so she went to bed. That's why we haven't been running yet, she barely slept."

I look at him but he's now turning his back on me to fill a bottle with water.

           She has to stop doing that, waiting for me. I told her a few times already but it's like she was a worried mom or something. Y/n is always like that, she worries too much, every cut on Sam or me is a mortal wound, every yawn is a sign of exhaustion. And even if I secretly love this way more than I'll ever admit, I can't let her wait for me all night.

"Hey Dean" her voice catches my attention and I turn to meet her tired eyes.

How can she smile like that after the night she had ? How can she give me that kind smile? I really don't deserve it. I'm disgusting, damaged, violent even... Look at her.

           She walks in and I can't help but drift along her naked legs, strong and soft. She's wearing her working out shorts, the ones torturing me some days, those tiny grey shorts holding her waist, that makes it impossible to not linger on her thighs. The t-shirt she wears is one of mine, or was, since she never gave it back. It's a plain back worn out t-shirt that has really nothing special. She says it's the comfiest.

"Hangover ?" she asks, handing me a slice of her apple.

"Yeah" I grunt, taking it.

I don't like rabbit food and she knows it. So instead of telling me to eat some, like Sam constantly tried for a while, she just gives me little bites of hers. A piece of apple there, a bite of banana, a little of spinach on her fork... and I always let her feed me, maybe just because she does with that adorable kind of smile each time.

"You came back late" she states, turning her back on me.

There is not an ounce of reproach in her voice, but something slightly sad. Maybe she pities me. If she had seen my evening, she would for sure.

           A flash of that girl from yesterday saying my tattoo is weird and old fashion comes to my mind and I rub my face.

"Is there a hunt ?" I ask.

I really need a hunt, I really need some action and to get out of here.

"No" my brother lightly shakes his head.

"I thought I had found one" Y/n adds. "But it turns out it really was a bear this time !"

Her chuckle warms my heart.

"Movies in my room ?" I offer, trying to sound like it doesn't really matter, but the truth is, this perspective is what got me out of bed...

 Reader's Pov

             I cut another slice of apple with my hunter knife and give it to him.

"Hum, maybe later" I answer, looking away. "Sam and I planned on running to the lake..."

"The lake !" he almost chokes. "It's like twelve miles away !"

Sam chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, to inform me he's ready to go. He has been waiting for me a long time already, but I needed to check on Dean before I left for the day.

"Yeah..." I mumble. "And I want to practice my gun skills after, of fight skills if Sammy is not too tired from the running."

"I could help you practice too" he states and I give him a knowing smile.

           Dean is not interested in training me, he never was. And, unlike me, he barely needs practice himself anyway, so why should he care ? He's just the best, that's natural. He's Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, the best man, the best everything actually. Between the ladies waiting in line to get a piece of him and his friends, the parties, but above all, constantly saving the world... He doesn't have time for me. We're not made of the same wood, I'm from those who have to work hard to keep up. And I never want to be a burden for any of them.

"What ? I could !" he grunts and his brother laughs.

"Yeah right, Dean" Sam mocks him, giving me my bag. "You would probably get a stitch from just stretching with Y/n ! She's getting good !"

"Don't listen to you brother" I assure Dean with a little smile on the corner of my lips.

           I walk out of the bunker with Sam's back in front of me and bite my cheek, trying to ignore that sharp pain in my chest.

           That pain that fell on me again while I was waiting for him, trying to not imagine what he was doing, that dread burning my guts ; and the other, even worse, pain that kept me awake once I was finally sure of what he was doing.

Once outside, the tall hunter stretches a little, humming at the soft spring breeze.

"Why did you wait again" he finally speaks, earning only a sigh from me. "Y/n... I know you need to make sure he's safe but you're hurting yourself. Talk to him..."

"We already talked about this" I just shrug before I start running.

 Dean's Pov

             I stay in the kitchen, my heart pounding in my head, my liver struggling.

           Of course she won't spend the day with me. Why would she ? She waited all night and I was busy partying like those pathetic guys who didn't understand college is over.

You didn't even went to college...

Sipping at my coffee, I think of my brother’s hand on her shoulder and shiver, not really understanding why. I mean, he’s her friend too, a good friend actually, but something changed lately. They are close, more and more every day.

She used to spend all her time with me and now that I think of it… She does with him now. It started with morning runs, then there were going to the grocery store together. They cooked, Sam never cooked in his life, she taught him a few “healthy” recipes while I was making fun of them. Several times I found them talking until late in the library, or sending each other texts during hunts, when they were apart the whole day.

Maybe I’m missing something coming slow… Maybe the woman I think of the second I open my eyes in the morning thinks of Sam.

Why wouldn’t she ? My brother is better than me in every ways.

Sam is smart and educated, went to college and all. They can probably talk about things I have no idea of…

Sam is brave and fair. He’s the best man I know, and if I think of one man that would deserve a girl like her...

What are you saying ? There is no other girl like her.

But above all… Look at him. He just grew old way better than I did. All those healthy craps I always made fun of, in the end he’s right. While I was drinking beer for breakfast and eating fat crap, he was running, practicing. And yes, during hunts we're equals, because I was raised in this life, but if I had to catch him running, I would have a heart attack before he breaks a sweat.

I never cared about all of this. About having abs, comparing my body to my brother's, or about being healthy for that matters. Because let's be honest, I never really cared about myself. And girls like me…Right ?

Stupid.

What girls though. It was a long time since Cassie, since Lisa... And lately the one-night stands have had a bitter taste.

Sex with stranger was fun at first, for years it was. New body, new voice, new taste, and skin and preferences... I guess a guy feels pride by having sex with a lot of different women.  But most of the time it's far from great and I’m tired of starting over every time.

I just wonder how it feels to actually get to know someone intimately, to learn what makes them squirm, their secrets, to wake up next to a friend... Love must be so nice.

The only person I can think of is her, Y/n. The woman that is my friend and the only one I want tell my secrets, the things that make me squirm...

My Y/n.

I grunt, my heart beating too fast because of hangover, my skin still smells alcohol despite the shower.

I'm such a wreck and she's so pure. That woman overcame bad things, and I have seen her so depressed that she barely could move at all for days in the beginning of our friendship. And yet, here she is, smiling, running and dancing in the library at night, making me want to be better every day, to think more, be less self-destructive, to feel pride more than shame. Pride for helping people, pride for my little brother that I helped grow up, and pride for being her friend.

She’s always there, smiling when I need a smile, listening even when I can’t talk, rolled up asleep on a little corner of my bed when I had a night of nightmares. Her hand was in my back when mom betrayed us and chose to leave, like it was the only thing keeping me up…

I can’t imagine her gone, impossible. And I’m realizing, I can’t imagine her in the arms of another man. That’s selfish, but I have to admit it now. I love her. And I want her, I need her.

Yet all I do is pushing her in my brother’s arms. In my brother’s strong and fit arms…

 Reader’s Pov

             I’m running, my feet hurt and I have a stitch on my left side, my thighs are already sore and my skin and lungs are burning. But I ignore them. I run.

           I run to ignore my imagination and the images it brings. Dean laying on his back, giving his precious body to a blond girl that doesn’t even know who he is, how lucky she is. Dean grunting when she swallows around him. Dean grabbing her hair, biting her neck, coming inside her. Dean with two girls, why not…

           I run.

“Y/n !” Sam’s voice interrupts me. “Wow, easy tiger.”

Out of breath, he puts his hands on his knees and frowns at me.

“You know the point of all of this is not to faint ? It’s about endurance, not a sprint or a race.”

“I’m sorry, Sam” I sigh, my body screaming at me even more now that I stopped.

“Is this about Dean ?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.

“How running too fast could be about your brother ?” I grunt.

“You know perfectly why I say that” he shrugs, drinking from his water bottle. “Avoiding him won’t prevent the hurt.”

“It avoids the nausea from smelling cheap perfume on him at least…” saying that, I sit on a bench that is close in a huff. “I just…” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “How do I avoid the hurt then ?”

“Talk to him” my friend says, joining me on the bench to sit next to me, his tall shadow wrapping me like angel wings, hiding me from this world I hate right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous” I scoff. “Hey Dean, could you not have sex with anyone ? It hurts me. Thank you.”

Sam lets out a chuckle and bumps my shoulder with his giant arm.

           A woman in an elegant sports outfit runs pass us, her tall form bouncing on her thin legs with grace, making her shiny hair fly. Dean would like her, he would totally sleep with her… Oh wait, we’re in Lebanon, there aren’t many girls that pretty around here, maybe he already did…

“How about ‘I have feelings for you’ ?”Sam suggests with puppy eyes and a childish adorable shrug.

I sigh, rubbing my face. Why doesn’t Sam understand ?

“Yeah so it can make our friendship awkward forever, with pity and shit” I look down at my hands. “Or so he chooses to erase my memory like he did with Lisa ?”

A silence falls between us.

           Sam knows what I think of this, how angry it makes me. Of course I don’t want to see him with Lisa, in fact my heart arches each time I think of what they had together, but take those memories from her… It wasn’t his choice to make. I happened to put myself in her shoes and hated it. I would rather long for a single smile from him all my life than being amputated of the only part of me I cherish : My love for him.

           The second reason I hate it is because of what it says about him : Dean is really convinced that he is not good enough. For anything, for anyone.

           During one of our nights in the Dean cave together, not really watching movies and drinking whiskey, he talked about it. And I know how much Lisa and him were meant to break up eventually. She wasn’t a hunter, and she didn’t really want to know about this life, even if she respected it. He was holding on to her like she was his only chance at happiness because, in his mind, happiness can’t come with the hunter life.

           Erasing her memory was not only a way to “protect her”, it was a closure for him. Away of closing the normal life door forever and throw away the key.

“You know he doesn’t think he deserves…” Sam starts but I cut him.

“Don’t.”

           I am a hunter. And despite the fact that I am desperately in love with my friend and going crazy with jealousy, I am pretty happy.

I am happy with my life, my heroic, never boring, full of magic life. I mean, they lost a lot, but do they think people with an apple pie life don’t ? Before I became a hunter, I went to so many funerals that the funeral home employees knew me personally before I hit puberty. And when you lose your family to cancer and heart attack, or suicide… You don’t even get to know for sure they’re in Heaven.

           But I am a hunter now, and I know. I am relieved and I feel safer, because magic exists, Heaven exists, and angels, even if they are quite different from what I had imagined.

“I just want Dean to be happy” I sigh and Sam’s giant hand rubs my back.

           That’s the truth. I wish with all my heart that Dean would realize he can be happy now. That the horror he has been through is over, and that the hunter life he can’t quit doesn’t mean he has to be miserable.

           And that is the reason I have to be the best friend I can. That’s the reason I have to swallow that jealousy that is making me bitter, to just love him, as selflessly as I can.

“Can we go home ?” I ask and Sam nods.

 Dean’s Pov

             I close the bathroom closet and swallow the pill, bending to drink water from the sink, then stand in front of the mirror.

           I never really thought of it, but I’m a little pudgy. My hips are not straight and firm, is my butt a little large ? I frown, making my wrinkles appear and sigh. And those freckles… I never really paid attention to them until that college girl said something about it. Something with a kind smile but her mean girl voice betraying her : “I guess it’s cute, but it always kinda look like the skin is dirty, you don’t have too many on the face so it’s okay”. Why do I have so many freckles ? Dad didn’t, mom either I think, not on her face anyway, and Sam… Sam’s skin is darker than mine, and perfectly smooth. Y/n must like that too.

Stop whining like a teen.

           I walk to my room and sit there, trying to ignore the voices in my head saying Y/n likes my brother. Does he like her too ?

           I take my headphones and turn the music on loud, closing my eyes, too bad for the headache, the silence is worse anyway.

           I’m in Hell, tied up like Alastair used to chain me, but I’m not hurt. Sam enters and points his finger at me.

“You will never be as good as me” he says. “Dad was better, I am better, and the woman you love ?” His laugh is terrifying, evil.

He puts his finger on my stomach and pushes it harder and harder on me, until it hurts.

Until it hurts a lot.

“You’re soft” he says, covering my whines of pain, that come out with my child voice now. “Dad was right, you’re too soft. Your heart is soft, your body too. You couldn’t say no to Alastair, like you can’t say no to a burger” his finger is so strong, like metal, and it feels like it is going to go through my skin and muscles any moment. “You have no self-control. You’re pathetic, Dean… Dean ? Dean.”

           I gasp, half sitting when I open my eyes.

“Sorry” Y/n says, and I look up to find her next to my bed, her hands up in a peace gesture.

“You’re back ?” I ask, still slightly panting.

The sight of her worried face makes my heart slow, and I notice she’s wearing that comfy pajama of hers, the very loose t-shirt draping lazily from her body, embracing her sweet curves.

“I got tired of running” she smiles kindly, finally plunging her hands in her sweatpants pockets.

I grunt and look at my watch, I have been sleeping a few hours, and I think the hangover is gone.

“I came to ask you if you were hungry and… You didn’t seem well” she nibbles at her lips. “Sorry if I scared you.”

I rub my eyes and give her a weak smile.

“You didn’t” I state. “I’m super hungry, yeah.”

I am. When I drink like that, I often skip diner.

I get up and grunt, rubbing my eyes. I thank her, walk to the kitchen with her and sit at the table in a sigh.

“So” she says with that radiant smile on her face. “I was thinking of making burgers. I know I don’t cook them as good as you, but !”

She turns around and shows me her phone screen, moving it too much in her enthusiasm for me to see anything. I chuckle and grab her wrist to still it, enjoying the softness of her skin under my fingers. On the phone, a recipe. “The best burger possible”, with descriptions of how to make the onions crispy, and to make the best sauce…

“Maybe I will finally make burgers as good as yours or close” she states, taking her hand back to read the recipe.

“You know you’re cute ?” I state, but I can’t give her the tender expression I intend to, as my dream comes back to me.

Maybe I should learn to say no to a burger.

“Not as much as your sleepy head” she chants.

“You know…” I clear my throat. “Maybe for once, we should eat what you like and not my greasy crap, like Sam says.”

She stops and turns to me with a pan in her hand and a surprised look.

“But” she pouts. “Me like burger.”

I look down, trying to think of something to say, she actually looks a little disappointed. She was so proud of what she had found… That woman is like a ray of sun.

           When I’m about to tell her that I would love to taste her burger, regretting having made her beautiful smile fade, she puts her phone on the table before me and starts looking in the fridge.

“I get it Dean.”

“Really ?”

“Too much alcohol, your grandpa stomach is fragile” she chuckles and I wonder how she seem to never show real hurt, annoyance or disappointment at anything I say. "Okay, you asked for it, I prepare the same for you as I do for Sam and me."

“Yeah…” I mumble.

           My eyes fall on her phone and my heart flutters. She forgot to lock it, and it’s the first time I see her wallpaper picture. It’s us. Just me and her. I remember that day.

           It was last summer, we were hunting a Wendigo that attacked campers, and had to camp ourselves in the wood for a night to find it. It was a beautiful night. When the photo was taken, I was telling a story, standing with a large smile on my face and a beer in my hand. Y/n came close, I don't remember why, and she wrapped her arms around me, holding my waist with her head on my shoulder.

           The picture really looks like we were a couple. She's staring up at me while I tell the story, her face inches away from mine. Behind us, that beautiful lake and a part of her blue tent. I don't remember who took this photo, and I think this moment must have been very short, or I would remember it. Maybe she just came that close to tell me something in the ear, maybe it was one of those quick hugs she gives me when I say something sad or mention being hurt.

           Why would she have that on her screen ? Before I can think of it further, her phone locks by itself and becomes black.

           I look up, her back is still on me, she's cutting something. With a discreet finger, I touch her phone, trying to make the photo appear again but her lock screen makes me sigh.

           Sam, of course Sam. It's a selfie they took together, simple and cute, both looking at the phone my brother is holding.

"I'm afraid you'll still be hungry after th-" she turns around and her eyes fall on my finger on her phone. "But if you are, there is pie" she states, taking her phone to put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

Like she needed to hide something, like she was embarrassed that I saw that Sam is on her screen.

           She arranges her salad or whatever she's making, puts a plate in front of me, and two others for Sam and her.

"Sam !" she calls and I look down at the plate.

I must say my it is pretty, all colorful. I recognize avocado, tomatoes... But as pretty as it is, it doesn't make me hungry, rabbit food never does.

"Oh wow, Dean is grounded or something ?" my brother chuckles, entering the kitchen.

"Leave him alone" she answers before I can make a comment. "His stomach is still upset."

Sam gives me suspicious look, I never ate this kind of veggie plate in my life, if my stomach is really upset, I wait an hour, and the second it's better, I fill it with beef jerky.

           I can see my brother is waiting for me to make a comment, complain. But when I don't, he just shrugs and starts eating, talking to her about something I don't listen to. I take a piece of avocado with my fork and when I look up to her, she's staring at me, her beautiful eyes searching my face.

"You can change your mind Deanie. I can still make bacon" she smiles.

"N-no really I'm okay" I state, eating a green thing without enthusiasm.

"Oh wow" Sam sneers. "Dean says no to bacon !"

           I swallow the lump in my throat and feel my cheek redden despite my effort to be as stern as possible. I don't need his smart words, and I don't need to see them being so perfect with each other. Getting up, I put the fork down.

"You know Sam, I actually can say no from time to time."

Leaving the room, I rub my face.

 Reader's Pov

             I stay still, my eyes on the kitchen exit where Dean just disappeared. Something is wrong, really wrong.

           I have seen Dean sad, grumpy and pushing people away, but this is new.

"I should go check on him after diner" Sam says. "He obviously have something on his mind."

"Yeah..."

My phone buzzes, it's him.

Hey Sweetheart, I'm sorry for leaving without eating what you prepared. Please tell Sam to not check on me. I'm going to bed, I'm just tired.

Dean is never "just tired".

Okay Deanie. Don't worry for the food. Please if you need something, remember I'm right here.

           Dean didn't come out of his room at all.

           I waited a little in the kitchen, finishing that stupid show I had started the day before, when he was out with yet another woman. I was hoping maybe he would show up to eat something, and then I could talk to him, but he didn't.

"Y/n" Sam's voice makes me jump slightly, frowning at the too bright light. "Did you fell asleep out of bed again ?"

I look around, my laptop battery died, I don't know how long ago and I have no idea of what time it is.

           My friend lets out a deep sigh, offers me his hand and closes my laptop. I get up and follow him, a new ache in my back.

"What was it this time ?" he asks opening the door to my room. "And don't say it has nothing to do with him."

I frown, close the door and sigh letting myself fall sitting on my bed.

"He didn't eat" I mutter and Sam rolls his eyes. "What ? You admitted yourself that something is off."

"Can I sit ?" he asks, taking place beside me on the bed when I nod. "Your crush for my brother, it was cute at first..."

I can see him hesitate, and I know I won't like what he has to say.

"But ?"

"But this is getting unhealthy" he looks down. "You know I love my brother, b-but I think he's not a good thing for you in the end."

My eyes get wet but I keep listening silently.

"Dean is... We all are damaged. You can't stand seeing him angry or hurt but, you know, he is most of the time. Y/n you can't keep spending your nights on wooden chairs just in case he need a freaking sandwich. You're a hunter, a warrior !"

I want to protest, it's not that simple. But nothing come out of my mouth. When tears roll on my face, he opens his arms, welcoming me against him.

           I can't love Dean less, he knows that. But for the first time, he's telling me that he disagrees ; and that changes everything. Sam was always the one kindly making fun of me or taking pictures discreetly for me to stare at on my phone at night. What if he decides he has to talk to Dean ? What if he gets tired of me, his best friend ? And what if he's right ?

"You have to talk to him" he states, making my fears cut my air supply for a moment.

"I-I can't" I sob, half panicking.

"You know he really loves you..."

I let go of his arms, not really wanting to hear more but he keeps holding me.

"What are you so afraid of ?" he sighs.

Dean's Pov

             I'm hungry. My stomach is gurgling and I feel a little dizzy, I need to eat, it's not like I was going to be more like Sam by starving or skipping meals anyway. I will never be like him. More like Sam is not only a muscle thing, he's also taller, smarter, better...

           Coming out of my room, I rub my face, thinking of her pretty face a little shocked when I left. I should apologize.

           After a very quick shower, I put on my grey robe and slippers again, walking to her room slowly.

           I rarely felt that weak, after my heart failure years ago, or after a big blood loss... But hunger like that, I didn't feel it since that week dad left and I lost the food money. I was ten or eleven... I remember feeding Sammy with stolen food, and eating only the leftovers, a piece of fruit, a crust of bread... Sam was starting to realize something was odd. I was so tired...

           I am so tired.

           I ate eggs at lunch the day I went out, then nothing on the evening. And yesterday... Nothing either. I haven't eaten for like forty hours, not even the crusts of Sam's sandwich or three gummy bears he forgot on the nightstand this time. And I'm starting to shake.

           It's enough. I will apologize, make coffee and breakfast for both of us, and ask her to come to my room to continue our "What you haven't seen that ? It's a classic !" marathon movie.

           Just when I'm about to knock at her door, it opens.

           Sam.

           My brother comes out of her room... in the morning ; his perfect pecks showing through his t-shirt and his arms covered of superman veins.

"Dean" he says, surprised.

Then he closes the door behind him, not letting me in, and I feel my blood go down on my feet, making me dizzy.

"Give her a minute" he states, and leaves.

           I stay in front of the door, looking at it like I could see through it. A minute ? What, is she still naked ? Panting ? Dirty ?... I shake my head.

I can't.

I...

She's my Y/n, how can he touch her ? How can he ? I need her, I need her for me... I can't...

           My breath is short and I try to fight the crushing wave of emotions almost making me fall on my knees. Sam is better, I'm a grunt, I'm damaged, dumb, unworthy... And I'm freaking fat !

           The door opens and Y/n bumps on my chest jumps, very surprised to find me here.

"Dean ?" she give me a well faked smile but it fades the second her eyes meet mine. "Dean... Are you okay ?"

I nod but I know the devastating hurricane raging inside of me is showing. And I'm not sure to feel my heart anymore.

"Deanie, did something happen ?"

"N-no" I state.

"Let's get breakfast" she frowns suspiciously. "I told Sammy that I wouldn't run this morning."

Why ? Are you tired ? Sore ? Did he hurt you ?

"I'm not hungry" I state.

The truth is I can't swallow anything right now.

"Not angry ?" she bites her lip. "What is it Dean ? Are you going on a hunger strike ?"

"No" I say and realize my tone is defensive.

She sighs and looks down, licking her lips, probably to taste my brother here...

"I'm worried" she whispers. "You didn't eat at all yesterday, and I know for a fact that you didn't get up for food."

"How can you be sure ?"

Her eyes are suddenly wet, and now I know what that fake smile was hiding : tears. It's enough to make me forget in a second about my own pain, about the crushing feeling on my heart.

"Because I slept in the kitchen again" she says a little coldly before walking pass me.

 Reader's Pov

             I have to hide my face. I can't deal with Dean telling me my love unhealthy too, or with his questions. And I can't cry before him, I wouldn't know how to explain it.

           I enter the kitchen and take eggs and bacon from the fridge. Hungry or not, he will eat a little, he needs it.

Not hungry... Is he sick ?

"Y/n..." he sighs behind me, but I don't answer, breaking the delicate eggshells against the pan edge. "Why did you sleep there ?"

"I don't know" I just say. "Why aren't you eating ?"

"I eat, Y/n."

"Not lately, no. S-so now I make you a real breakfast, like you like it, with meat and fat."

"Maybe I should stop eating that..." he mumbles for himself, but I hear him and turn around.

"What ?"

His whole body language changed. He doesn't stand with that confidence and dominance he usually has. He's hurt, hurt bad. He looks tired and pale, but not only...

"What is going on between Sam and you ?" he asks, low.

"Sam ?"

I slightly shake my head in confusion.

           I don't understand his question, I don't understand the pain on his face. Something happened when he went out, did someone hurt him ?

           Suddenly, a smell of burn come to my nose : the eggs ! I turn and try to save them but Dean's strong wrist grabs mine, making me turn to him.

"Answer please."

His voice is more somber than angry, but his gesture is firm and he's shaking. I can see the fire raging inside of him.

"What do you mean going on ? Dean... The food" I try to turn.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT FOOD !" he suddenly yells, my heart racing and eyes wetting instantly. "I HAD ENOUGH FOOD FOR AN ENTIRE LIFE !"

           His vise fingers suddenly lets go of my wrist and he takes a step back, fear on his features, like he was afraid of his own emotions. Dean is an impressive and dangerous man, but I will never be scared of him.

           I wipe the tears that escaped my eyes and, on the surface calmly, turn off the fire under the burned eggs. Then I get closer to him and take his hand, way softer than he took mine a second before, under the slightly too long sleeves of his adorable robe. I decided I would be a better friend, it's my chance to be.

"If you precise your question, Deanie, I will answer. I just don't really get it" my eyes are on him, kind but firm, like I was taming a wolf.

"I..."

He doesn't manage to finish his sentence, the gearwheels of his mind visible behind his sparkling eyes. If I don't help him, he will run away, and burry it forever.

"What do you think is going on between Sam and me ?" I ask, noticing his lips are really white, even more than before. But I know he won't agree to eat right now, not until we fix what is bothering him. "Do you think, we're hiding something ?"

That would explain why he was staring at my phone yesterday. Sam and him have been deceived so often, lied to...

"Are you together ?" he cuts my thoughts. "Or is it just casual ?"

"What ? No !" I frown, letting go of his hand just a second. "Dean... Sam is my friend."

"He's perfect" he whispers.

You're perfect.

"He's amazing" I nod. "Sam is one of the best person I know..."

"He's handsome" he cuts me.

I search his face, and he nervously licks his lips. I take his hand again shyly, just the tip of his fingers. He will close again because he regrets those words. I have to answer quickly even if I'm really wondering what this is about.

"H-he is" I state. "Not really my type but he really is a beautiful man."

"You're always together... He... He slept in your bedroom" he says, taking back his hand. "You guys do what you want, but don't take me for a fool."

           I take a deep breath, I won't get out of this without saying a little too much. I little of what I don't want to say. But Dean seems to need answers, and what Dean needs...

"He didn't sleep in my room, I told you I fell asleep in the kitchen. He found me, and bought me back there, tried to convince me to sleep but I was worried... and sad. Why those questions ?"

"Sad ?"

I don't want to answer now, so I continue.

"And... I spend a lot of time with him because he's my friend and..."

Being with you sometimes hurt.

           He doesn't answer, and looks down at himself. Is he jealous that spend time with Sam ? We indeed used to be even closer, before my love for him started being out of control. Does he feel like that third friend the others forget a little for the fun things ?

"Dean, are you upset because I went running with Sam instead of watching movies with you yesterday ?" he looks away. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that you're not eating ?"

"I... I don't know" he sighs. "I'm a little dizzy."

"Sit Dean" I say, guiding him to the table. "Tell me what's going on with food. Please. You know I hate to see you bad."

           He rubs his face with both hands, his scruff audible under his palm. How I wish I could kiss this jaw, how I wish I could show him how much I love him, how I know who he is, not like those girls.  

"It's ridiculous..." he tries, but I sit facing him, and wait for him to talk. "I'm not... like Sam."

"Like Sam ?"

"You know... Abs and..." he motions his body. "All."

"Wait" I blink a few times. "Dean you're perfect."

He scoffs so bend a little to make him look at me.

           How can he compare himself to his brother ? Where do that come from ? I know Dean struggles with serious self-hate, but would never have guessed it would reach that subject, of physical appearance... Maybe this is about a woman.

"Dean. You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen." My mouth starts freeing itself from truth I kept locked, and I can't stop it. "I'm serious. Your face looks like some masterpiece with perfect proportion, y-your eyes are ridiculously green, your jaw could cut glass, your lips..." my eyes fall on them and my words get lost. "You're tall and broad..."

"You're making me blush Sweetheart" he says, he voices back to its usual low hoarse tone. "Still I... You know I'm... a kid when it comes to food, I never exercise..."

"Never exercise ?" I smile. "Three days ago you climbed inside a house then dug a six feet deep hole on the ground, and the day after you chased a monster, fought him, and carried his body to a place where you can burn it... I say you deserve a burger."

His face seems to light up a little, but his pretty pillow lips are still too white.

"But it's not working out, like Sammy."

"Dean... Your brother likes it, he need it to focus, to think" my smile grows and I speak lower, I know my admiration is showing, and it honestly feels liberating. "And he needs that to keep up with you."

"He doesn't" he almost chuckles, finally warming my heart.

"Well, you're the best. It's natural for you, but we have to work, especially me."

"You two are better than me" he states.

"We're not. And... Dean not eating isn't going to make you feel better about yourself. It's going to wear you out, make you weak..."

"I know" he sighs.

"Can I make you a breakfast ? The color of your lips makes me want to draw a salt circle."

He chuckles fully this times, wrinkles appearing on the corner of his eyes.

           I gently pat his shoulder as I get up, still not believing Dean could have insecurities like those. I throw away the burnt cold eggs and make some new, with bacon.

"I hear comments sometimes you know..." he says like it was easier now I'm not looking at him. "The things you said, that my face is nice..."

"More than nice" I admit, turning a little to him, but not fully to keep watching the pan.

"It happened that girls expect more under my shirt" he looks down. "I know it's ridiculous... I just, I don't know, maybe I feel disappointing."

"It's not ridiculous" I state under my breath, grabbing a plate to finally give him food. " Here, eat this, all of it."

"Like with the whole FBI look or with my seductive smile" he stops and grunts. "I feel like a teen."

"Hey, nothing like that between us, you know that. I told you about very embarrassing stuff" I reassure him. "And, what you're saying is interesting, men endure the social standards too."

"I... I don't know I didn't age like a model, I'm... soft."

Model.

"You know..." I start.

I pour two coffees and take a chocolate bar for myself, watching him before I keep talking, to make sure he starts eating.

"Delicious" he states, putting big pieces in his mouth.

"One of the reason I work out with Sammy is... Precisely because I don't want to look ridiculous next to two total models."

"Now that's" he starts, opening his mouth too big at how hot it still is. "That's kinda ridiculous. You're the prettiest girl ever !"

"I'm not" I whisper, softly blowing on my coffee.

"What ? You are Y/n" I lift my eyes on him, his lips are still a little light but shining with grease.

"I'm not like the girl you go out with."

           I don't dare looking up, but see he stopped moving. His robe is now totally opened, the belt got loose, and my eyes are lost in the black of his shirt.

"The girls I go out with" he repeats. "You're way better than those girls."

"Oh listen to you, that doesn't sound cliché at all" I say a little too coldly, a shocked expression appears on his face. "I... I'm sorry."

"You know... the girls I go out with, that doesn't really mean anything."

"I know" I cut him to make him understand I'm not asking him to justify himself.

But he keeps talking anyway.

"I have been with divorced single moms, witnesses... college girls" he says the last one with something bitter and I take this occasion to make it about him again, and not me.

"Two day ago" I ask, although it's the last thing I want to talk about. "It was a college girl, Deanie ? Did something happen ?"

"Yeah... no" he states, answering my two questions. "I just... I just realize it wasn't really what I wanted, not anymore. And that it didn't... didn't really make me feel good about myself."

"Too young for you ?" I try to joke, giving him a piece of my chocolate bar, feeding him like I always do, with everything I have in my hand.

"Kinda yeah" he answers seriously. "I don't know... She... I wasn't frat boy enough for her I guess."

"Yes, that's exactly the idea, that you're not that !"

"I didn't really, you know... enjoy it" he says and I fight the images coming in waves in my head. "I was too focused on trying to prove something" a dark chuckle escapes his lips. "I don't even know who I was trying to convince. And she... She didn't like the tattoo, the scars, the freckles..."

"Whoa whoa ! Who's that bitch ?" I lift my hands in the air, sincerely shocked, I never knew some women would be able to not appreciate Dean.

He smiles kindly but looks at the bottom of his coffee.

           Silence. I wish I could make him see who he is, I wish I could speak more, ask questions, but just talking about that stupid college girl that had him, but on top of that made him feel bad about himself...

"You look sad again" he cuts my thoughts.

"Sad ?"

"Yeah, it happens often. You start thinking deeply and you get sad" he says. "Listen... You're the most amazing friend, and woman, there is..."

"But" I whisper, echoing the conversation with Sam in my head.

"There's no 'but'" he shakes his head. "I was just going to say that I want to be a better friend, and man, for you."

"You already are the best" I smile but he doesn't smile back at all, his green eyes searching mine.

"I'm not. I let you down several times. I get why you would rely on Sammy more. I left you at this bar after that hunt when that witness was hitting on me. And I cancelled movie night twice to go out, just to feel... I don't know desired, loved maybe ? I know how absurd it is" When I'm about to talk, he doesn't let me. "And I worry you... coming home drunk as fuck in the morning." He rolls his eyes a little. "And with Baby..."

"I'm not your mom, I have to stop being so protective, Sam is right..."

"Sam ?"

           That's it, the moment I say so much I regret it my whole life. But I promised my best friend I wouldn't go on like this, that I would either talk to Dean, like he wants me to, or at list try to work on my feelings to move on. It's time to stop hiding everything from the man I love and make our friendship pure again.

"Sam says..." I clear my throat. "That... I have to care a little less about you, to care a little more about me" I don't dare looking up and let out a dark chuckle. "Won't be easy... I care a lot about you."

           When he doesn't answer, I finally look up, fearing what I will see on his face. He's just staring at me with an expression I never really saw on his face. His gorgeous lips are pink again, and the scruff on his cheeks, a little darker than usual, highlights the radiant light of his big beautiful eyes.

           He half gets up, bending on the table. And before I can realize what's happening, he puts his lips on mine in a soft, warm kiss.

           My whole body responds to it. The thin hair on my arms stick up, my heart starts beating my chest and my thighs get moist with a thin layer of sweat.

           I stay frozen for a second, looking at him in disbelief, playing the quick kiss again and again in my head as he sits back.

"I just..." he clears his throat and sigh, getting up. "I'm not Sammy."

Before he can leave, before this moment becomes a memory I will struggle to think as real, before I find myself in that hole of secrets again, I get up. But he's already walking to his room.

"Dean !" I run after him, meeting him at his bedroom door. "Dean. You're not Sammy. You're you, you're perfect in every ways."

           My heart is pounding. Let's do this, he needs this. Dean needs to be loved and I didn't know he needed reassurance. No one can to this better than me, because I worship him. I always said I wanted to show Dean he can be happy, and loved without changing his life for good. This is my shot at it, I may not be enough, I may not be what he wants or needs, but at least I can share with him. My devotion, my love, my body, all he wants.

           And If my heart breaks, let it be a happy sacrifice.

"Your freckles are like stars in a summer sky" he frowns when my fingers come up to graze his cheek. "I already liked freckles but yours... You make any other skin look plain and boring."

His face is so close, the delicious smell of his skin reaching me. His pupils are large, just circled with that green that could make me cry.

"Your lips..." I say a little lower, looking at them intensely.

From here, I can see the few freckles that made their way on them. Then I see his tongue, slowly wetting them before he bends again, catching my lips softly, his nose bumping mine when he opens his mouth to capture my upper lip, once, twice...

           I open my mouth and wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss with a shameless hunger, and all my love in it. Something blows up inside of me, something strong : need.

 Dean's Pov

             No drunk groans, and no shame anywhere. I kiss her like it was words, and take her inside my room.

"Your smell" she says and I feel emotions rush in every one of my veins, but it's not disturbing like it usually is. "I could bath in it, live it."

I bend to burry my face in her neck, inhaling deeply.

           And I take my time, I have no reason to hurry, nowhere to go, no woman to come back to. She slips her fingers between the strands of my hair, letting me hold her close, drowning in her smell.

           I want to cry, and I don't really know why. Probably because of how right this feels. Because of that relief : She not with my brother. She is not with Sam...

"Dean..." she whispers, her nails gently grazing my scalp. "Can I see you ?"

I put a kiss on her neck and murmur a tender 'yes' against it.

           Her hands leave my hair to go down along my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and push my robe, making it fall like a cape at my feet. That’s how she makes me feel, like her hero.

           Her chin goes up without me leaving her neck, and she gently rubs her cheek on my jaw. In a soft moan, I open my mouth to leave wet kisses on her skin.

Maybe she can be mine...

"Sometimes your voice makes me shiver" she whispers in my ear. "Just your voice... It's so deep."

Somehow her words send electricity to my crotch and I can feel my boxers getting tighter.

           My hands grab her ass, pressing her against me and when she moans, I feel my cock twitch.

"Y/n..."

"You're beautiful in everything" she continues, her hands slipping under my shirt to stroke my back, her voice slightly weaken by arousal. "But when you wear henleys or just a t-shirt..." she kisses just below my ear. "I can get wet by just looking at you."

My cock twitches and I groan.

"Are you wet now, Baby ?"

She nods and I let go of her ass to cup her face, kissing her like I always dreamed of, deeply and hungrily, not caring of being in control of myself, not caring if I seem desperate.

           She starts to walk, making me take a few steps back until my calf hit the edge of the bed and I sit on it. I tug at her shirt to make her straddle me, but she takes a second to take off her shorts, revealing her beautiful thighs, and her white panties.

           When she finally straddles me, spreading her legs, I spot a wet stain on her panties and a low growl leaves my chest.

"Fuck... You are..." I say, my hand coming down to cup her sex through it, feeling the tip of my finger get wet.

Her body immediately contracts, and, with my middle finger pressed against her entrance, I can even feel her walls clench around nothing.

"How can you be so reactive" I groan.

"It's you..." she moans, rolling her hips just a little to feel my hands more. "Dean... No men can do this to me."

           My other hand comes up to take that worn out black shirt she stole with impatience, because I notices she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh baby..." I let out, bending to kiss her breasts, my other hand teasing her more.

           I'm burning up, my back sweating, my cock painfully hard. I don't remember being that turned on in my life by so little. She hasn't even touched me yet.

           Her head falls back and her nipples point at me, begging me to suck at them, so that's what I do. Mouth open, I take one in my mouth, along with the most of her soft breast I can.

"Ah..." she moans and squirms above me. "Dean !"

My cock twitches at just hearing my name like that, my real name on top of that.

           I slip my hand in her panties, desperate to hear more, feel more. She's soaked, her thighs contracted and her hips rolling against my hand. She doesn't form words, but her body is begging for more.

           So I slip a finger inside her and feel her squeeze him, hear her gasps. I can't wait to be inside of her but that's not my only purpose... Oh God when she will clench around me ! I’m panting now.

"Please Dean" she whines, one of her hand going behind her to find balance on my knee, her beautiful body arching back.

I give her what she needs, another finger, pumping slowly at first, then going a little stronger, and my thumb on her clit, gently circling. I look at her with my mouth open in awe, a devouring pleasure making me high.

"Fuck" I pant.

           I should try to focus, make that coil inside me calm, make my heart slow. I don't want to be aroused like a teen, or I won't last at all... But I can't, and my free hand comes on my crotch to touch myself through my boxers a little, desperate for some friction.

"Dean ! Dean..." she cried out, now joining the movement of my fingers with her whole body. "I need..."

"Come for me" I order. "Show me how much you want me Baby, clench those fingers."

And just like that, she does.

           Her whole body shakes and her thighs crush me, her walls trying to milk my finger for what they can't give her.

"DEAN DEAN DEAN !"

My cock twitches so hard it's painful, I bend on her chest to not see her face longer, and try to hold back as hard as I can.

"Baby... fuck..." I whine, my whole stomach contracting and my cock pulsating.

But when she grabs my head to hold it against her and start rolling her hips hard to prolong her powerful orgasm, I can't hold back...

           In a very loud frustrated grunt I come in my pants, feeling my cum drip along my twitching cock.

 Reader's Pov

             My bliss makes me high, but my senses are at their full power, so I can feel what’s happening. I can feel Dean squirm beneath me and shake, I can feel his hand unable to move and hear his gasps.

           He’s coming.

           My walls clench even more at the thought and he whimpers against my breasts. So I hold him, I just hold him.

           When I finally can have the control of my body again, I look down at him and he withdraws his fingers slowly.

“Y/n…” he whispers. “Fuck I…”

“Did you came ?” I ask with the largest smile I ever had on my face.

“I… yeah… I’m…”

He seems embarrassed.

“Dean, that’s the sexiest thing I have ever experienced” I assure him, bending to kiss his lips. “No one ever wanted me that bad.”

“I still want you” he states, his hands stroking my back and going down on my ass. “I… I think you’re all I want actually.”

           My eyes get wet. In my head : every single moment in my life that made me fall in love with Dean, every day, every moment I craved for a touch, for his smell, every time he laughed and cried… Everything.

“Then you have me Dean, you can have me forever if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, I do” he says, taking off his shirt.

           With a large smile I push him back on the bed, letting him drag both of us higher on it. I look down at him, and a tear falls on his chest. His hand comes up to wipe my cheek, we don’t need to talk for a moment.

           My hands go down his sides, enjoying his firm chest and the soft line of his stomach, my thumbs massaging it a little on their way up, feeling the strong muscles underneath and the silky-smooth skin.

           I bend to kiss his collarbones, and his tattoo, palms still roaming everywhere like I always dreamed of, like I will always dream of.

“This tattoo” I say, drawing its contour with my finger. “It’s so you, it has a story, and it protects you. I love it.”

“And I love you” he states without a hesitation, his chin almost on his neck to see me.

A tiny emotional sob escapes my lips, making him frown a little and wrap his strong arms around me.

“Hey baby…” he whispers. “Y/n…”

           My hand goes down to push his underwear down, and my panties to the side. He searches my eyes while I do, and licks his lips in a moan when I grab his cock to guide it at my entrance.

“I love you” I say, slowly sinking down on him. “I love you, I love you…”

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