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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

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In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day.

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.”

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

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

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are.

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

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

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself.

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win.

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!”

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them.

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points.

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders.

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed.

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough.

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once.

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed.

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation.

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out.

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history.

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test.

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test.

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them.

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain.

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike.

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match.

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump.

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down.

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did.

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly.

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them.

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly.

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home.

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out.

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot.

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!”

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually.

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp.

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders.

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations.

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all.

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better.

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you.

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest.

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears.

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.”

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient.

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back.

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang.

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway.

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Light-Stick

Requested by @psychkunox: (Been so long since I requested other than Peaky) But can you do a Supernatural one, Dean x Reader insp to the ep "Regarding Dean."

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff?, tired/probably poor writing

Words: 1,218

Summary: (See Request?)

Note: So, if you couldn’t tell by the title, this revolves mainly around the scene wherein Sam and Dean are at the motel. Sorry if this sucks :\

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @psychkunox,

Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist

The phone rang, vibrating the table with it. “Unknown Caller”. Sam looked away from his laptop and picked up the phone without hesitation. Y/n watched from the seat across, taking slow sips of her morning drink of choice. “Hello?”

“...Sam?”

Upon hearing his brother’s voice, his shoulders hunched and his empty hand came up, an “are-you-shitting-me” type of attitude immediately replacing his calmed expression. “Dude! Where the hell have you been?” At Sam’s sudden change of tone, along with his question, Y/n widened her eyes and tilted her head, no longer half asleep.

“Uhhh I’m not really sure about that.”

“Well- where are you now?”

“Um, not really sure about that either.... I um... Oh!” Dean laughed on the other end, “I’m starvin’. How you feel about waffles?”

Sam’s face morphed with confusion, drawing Y/n’s interest even more. He muttered a bit, struggling to form a word before he picked one, “What?”

“Dumb question. Right. What psycho doesn’t love waffles? I mean they’re fluffy with little pockets full of syrup you just cover ‘em with whip cream, right? Anyway, meet me at Waldo’s, alright?”

Sam could barely think of something to say with the amount of time given to him. Dean hung up leaving Sam thinking 100 miles per second. Y/n made eye contact with her boyfriend’s brother, raising a brow as to ask for the story.

“Was that Dean?”

“Mhm.”

“Where was he?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Did he not tell you?”

“No, actually, he doesn’t even know. He said to meet him at Waldo’s for waffles and then hung up.”

Y/n paused, scrunching her brows together in thought. Then she nodded with a shrug, “Sounds like Dean to me.”

Dean met Sam’s eyes as he walked into the building. “Hey...” he drawled. The first thing he did as the two sat down was sigh and tap his head, “You brought my girlfriend but did you bring any of the uh-” Sam took the bottle of pills out of his pocket and shook it, like an owner would a dog treat to their eager pup. “Yes!”

“Sounded like you could use it.”

“Oh man,” Dean whispered as he opened the bottle.

“Rough night?” Y/n’s eyes followed her boyfriend’s every movement. Dean after drinking, whether it be drunk or hungover, never ceased to entertain her. Dean shook his head.

“Rough morning.” He poured some into his hand, using his coffee to wash down the pills rather than water.

Sam watched with amusement as well, chuckling a little. “What happened? I mean, you just went out to get some food.”

Dean raised his free hand to emphasize his shrug as he set the mug down. “I dunno.”

“What does that mean?”

“I- I guess I blacked out... And judging from this hangover,” he nodded his head, “it was epic.”

Sam looked to Y/n for context, however, all he got was a raise of her shoulders. She hadn’t been with him last night, so there was no way she was involved with his drunken state.

“Well, we tried to call you-”

“Oh.” Dean held up his broken phone, making Sam sigh and Y/n look down in disappointment. “Not sure how that happened.”

“Great. Alright, well I’ll text mom and make sure she knows you’re going with me in case of emergency and Cas, in case he tracks down Kelly.”

Dean slowed his chewing down as his brows furrowed, tilting his head to meet Sam’s eyes. Sam raised his brows in response. “The- mother of Lucifer’s love child?”

“Right. Right. Yes, the, devil-baby-mama drama... Heh, say that five times fast. Devil-baby-mama drama.”

Once again, Sam sighed at his brother’s antics, though, Y/n couldn’t help but giggle a bit. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, “Alright, Dean, you know, uh, you’ve had a good run, but uh, maybe let’s pump the brakes a little bit. I mean you’re not twenty anymore...”

Dean froze, staring at his brother. Amusement was nowhere to be seen on his face, which was quite rare. “Okay, one, the Rat Pack partied till the day they died and b, I can still kick your ass.”

“Finish your waffles, tough guy. I’m sure you have some work to do.” Y/n snickered. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll catch up with you guys later. Call me if you need me, okay?” She raised her brows as she waited for Dean to nod, then pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out the door, waving goodbye to the brothers.

“Hey... I came as soon as I could-” Y/n opened the door and stepped into the room, closing it behind her.

“Thank you- I-”

“My girlfriend? Really Sammy?”

He ignored his brother, whispering as quietly but frantically as he could.“Dean’s been acting weird.”

“Like Dean weird? Or...”

“No no, Dean has not been acting weird, Dean has been acting like Dean.” The man in question interjected, waving his finger around.

Sam spun back around to face Y/n, pointing to Dean. “Don’t listen to him.”

“Didn’t plan on it. ...Why is there a sticky note with the word lamp on the lamp?”

“Because Dean called it-”

“A lamp.”

“A light stick.” Sam glared at Dean.

Y/n covered her mouth, attempting to keep it contained, but to no avail; laughter poured from her lips uncontrollably. Dean seemed to find offence in it.

“Why the hell are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry bub, but... can you blame me? ‘Light stick’. Sounds like some holy shit if you ask me. Or maybe Starwars. Lightsaber?”

Sam squinted at her in confusion. He shook his head. “Not the point- listen, do you think we can do anything?”

“I’m not sure...”

“I’ll call someone, give me a minute.” Sam walked over to the other side of the room and began to pace.

The voice on the other end was inaudible to Dean and Y/n, but Sam filled in the most he could with his responses.

“Yeah, well, we need your help Rowena.”

“C’mon man, Rowena? I mean- tch- Hey!” Dean bent over into the mini-fridge, pulling out two little bottles of- “Tiny vodkas! Score!” He smiled and shook the bottles with a chuckle.

“This is serious. Look- I think Dean’s been hexed, okay? He- he’s been forgetting things... He’s not drunk!”

Dean held the empty ice-container in his arm, the lid in his other hand. “We need ice.”

Sam turned to Dean’s voice, then turned his head back around and shook his head, holding up a finger, an unspoken “one minute please”.

Y/n chortled as Dean continued to silently gesture with the lid to the container.

“What? ...I don’t know? Uh- And I’m not checking either! ....How do I break it? ...Got it.” Sam hung up, spinning back around to face the two, “Alright so- ...Dean?”

Y/n lifted her head from the lamp, her fingers toying with the sticky note. “Huh?”

“Where’d he go?”

“I- I don’t know...”

They looked toward the door, opened ajar just slightly, then back to each other. “Dean!?” Sam raced out the door.

Y/n looked back to the lamp and the yellow note between her fingers. She chuckled, remembering what Dean said. “Light stick.” More chuckles rang out before Sam’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Y/n! C’mon!”

“Right, sorry!” She raced out the door, following behind. “...Light-stick...Never calling another lamp a ‘lamp’ again.”

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haravath0t · 4 years

Text

Peace of Mind and Heart

Pairing: Wakanda!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: an adorable Bucky, Bucky finally being a happy boi, fluff!

Word Count: 2.6K (oops)

A/N: @lookiamtrying MINA! My lovely Sammy! Thank you thank you for requesting this in! FINALLY THIS IS OUT! Gahhh I knew right off the bat that I would love writing this for you and good ol’ Bucket! Our Bucky deserves so much happiness, especially with reader! Ahhh! There are so many ways to go about all of this, but I hope you like this one! I got too carried away 😂Happy reading, everyone!

Request: For a sweet drabble can I request Wakanda!Bucky preparing to propose to reader? He’s finally found some peace and it’s because of her and he gets all nervous thinking she might say no. Ooohh maybe he proposes to her at sunset like the second gif? Okaaay thank you.

*Italics indicate flashbacks!

A big, shaky sigh leaves Bucky’s lips as he sits within the comfort of his hut, twisting the velvet box around with his fingers. He could not help the nervousness that was flowing through his veins as his flesh thumb pried the box open, showing the wonderful engagement ring that he had picked out alongside Steve. Little to your knowledge, Bucky had been carrying this for a while now, finding the right ways to propose, but with no idea coming to his head.

“Mr. Barnes, Y/N said that she will come over with dinner for you both in ten minutes.” One of the Dora Milaje notifies him, walking away from his hut when she sees him nod in acknowledgement, muttering a small thank you.

He can’t help but recall the day he first laid his eyes on you. He remembered how you were struggling to speak to the locals in the market as he was buying his plums. He recalled the uncharacteristic action of him stepping in and helping you out, you getting extremely shy and embarrassed as you said thank you. He remembered how you said that you came here for work, that you were new, and trying to make your way around Romania before you started. He remembered the smile that had kissed his lips from the similarity of the situation of you both.

“I came here for a fresh start too,” He replied, causing you to look up at him in surprise.

“Really? You don’t sound like it, though. Your Romanian sounds amazing!” You compliment, causing the brooding super soldier to have a light pink tint on his cheeks. “Oh. I think I just do pretty good at hiding in the crowd, that’s all.” He answers quietly with a shrug. That made way for a nice conversation between you both, one that didn’t require much work. You kept talking until you realized you had to return to your place. “How can I repay you, though? You practically helped me with my grocery shopping at that rate.” You ask, truly feeling ashamed at your lack of knowledge of Romanian, or Romania in general.

“Maybe by being a friend?”

“C-coffee, maybe? At the cafe down the block? At 9 tomorrow morning?” He offers, shyly, “I’ll pay!” You smile even more and nod in approval. “Yes… I… I didn’t catch your name.” He realized that too.

“Ummm… Bucky… I’m Bucky…”

You smile.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats, with a smile once again forming on his face. It was a truly beautiful name that matched you. “Would you care if I walked you back? There’s some pickpockets around here in Bucharest, you have to be careful.” You agreed it was for the best, having had that experience before. Not that long later, you had finally arrived at your apartment. “That’s funny,” Bucky remarks quietly, making you look up at him in curiosity. “What?”

“I guess I just met my neighbor” He chuckles quietly, motioning to his door that was across the hall. This only made you smile even more.

“Well, gee… Glad that we are friends, neighbor.”

He was scared that he was a burden to you. You had always come to check up on him if you heard him have nightmares. You invited him over to your place during those nights, stayed up with him, cooked you both a midnight snack, and let him take his time to talk to you about what was on his mind. The closer you two got, you even let him sleep in the spare bedroom in your place. Unbeknownst to you both, the friendly gesture only caused him to fall for you and the characteristics of you that made you. He adored you for your gentility, your kindness, your playful nature, your wit, and so much more. You didn’t waver when you found Captain America in the front of your neighbor’s door.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he says swinging his backpack over his arm. “You’re in danger. You gotta leave.” “Bucky… your hand…. What…” He looked almost ashamed and worried over your reaction. “I’ll explain if I can, but not now.” Is what he responds before looking at Steve. “Wait for me at our cafe tomorrow, if you want. If I see that you’re there, I’ll know the answer.” Is the last thing he says for the day before chaos erupted.

By the next day, you managed to pack whatever you could in your little apartment, waiting in the cafe. You were about to leave until you saw a tall blond, in a cap and jacket approaching you. “Y/N L/N?” He asks. It was Captain America again. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid Buck can’t be present with you right now. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be here, since you’re associated with him. The Avengers can offer you a place to stay, a new place to work, if you’d like. You can talk to Buck before you make that decision if you want.”

You never agreed to anything so fast. You were worried more than angry and afraid. Even though you put two and two together and remembered that he was the Winter Soldier. Steve had told you along the way as he was helping you with your baggage, further confirming your theory. You couldn’t help but understand the immense pain and trauma that he was facing for so long.

“You must be disgusted by me now.” You looked away from the quinjet’s window to look over at the wounded brunet next to you with wide eyes, shaking your head as you grabbed a moist towel to wipe off some of the blood that remained on his skin. “Scared? Yes… Doubtful? Yes… but to be repulsed by you? No.”

“If it made you scared, doubtful, all that… What made you wanna stay around?

That’s true… What made you stay?

“Maybe because I knew that it’s not the guy that I met at the market. I met Bucky Barnes that day.” You start off, upset because that was clearly not summing up the way your heart raced and leapt at his presence this whole time. It didn’t sum up the way you dreamt about that simple, gentle blue-eyed brunet man. You shakily inhaled and exhaled.

“Maybe because I feel… I feel something more than a friend should feel.”

He looks up at you, in shock and denial, shaking his head. “Y-You. You feel it too, huh?” You nod. He groaned and let out a tiny smile. “Why do I gotta fall in love with a gal like you. You can do better than me, YN.”

“I don’t want better, Buck. I want you. I want those late nights. I wanna comfort you. I wanna watch movies with you. I wanna have breakfast with you. I want all that. I don’t want that to stay in Romania. Don’t you see that?”

His dirtied flesh hand cups your cheek as if it’s like glass: careful and with care. His eyes were meeting yours, the end of his lips curling up in a little smile. “I’m telling you, Y/N. I… I think once you say yes to this, we’re basically asking you to leave that old life behind, ya know? I don’t wanna keep that from you-”

“That’s the point you’re not getting, Buck. I want this to work. I want to try. Especially since I now know we are on the same page.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle that left his once blood-stained lips. He admired that stubbornness of yours. He even saw Steve chuckle at this from the other side of the quinjet. Never did he ever think your cute stubbornness to things would be directed to staying with him.

“But this is something new-”

“Yes it is. It’s new to us both. I’m willing, Buck. I’ll learn. Maybe I can be somehow a helper of a sort, I don’t know how this Avengers thing works, but I’d wanna learn with you!”

And so you did. You didn’t waver even when they had made the decision to have him stay in Wakanda to recover. You kept to your word, staying alongside Natasha and Steve and training for self-defense. They found out that you worked in the medical field and you were happy that you were able to help when you could. That being said, you were so determined to help alongside Shuri with Bucky’s recovery. You always held a strong image that was quite the contrary to his current state.

Yet, deep down, he knew you didn’t do this to baby him, or because you pitied him. He knew it in his heart that you two did share a love for each other that was soft, unspoken, and steadfast. You both shared a stubborn desire to make this work no matter the unforeseen circumstances.

“Buck? I’m here! I brought dinner!” He heard you exclaim, his worries vanishing almost immediately as he got up from his bed, tucking the velvet box in his pocket before getting the blanket next to his bed and meeting your wonderful smile. “Hi, sweetheart,” He says, almost with relief as he instinctively exchanges a small kiss with you. “Hey, darling. Got the blanket I see! Here, I’ll lay it all out!”

There was a different air to this dinner. Something that made him feel like he was on Cloud 9. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that you brought cute accessories to match the aesthetic of the picnic blanket. Maybe it was because you cooked both of your favorite meals for tonight. Could it be because he was loving your excitement as you told him the new things that you had learned while you were apart? Could it be the fact that the sky had never been so beautiful as it set? Maybe it was because he was able to imagine this life with you. Maybe it’s because every time you two met up to catch up, he’d always imagine what it was like to be able to experience your radiant glow for decades to come. Maybe it’s because today he was much more appreciative of the growth of your relationship. It seemed right to pop out the question, but his thoughts stopped him. Maybe she’s waiting for the right moment to back out. Maybe he hasn’t done anything yet to make you go away. Maybe you’ll think that you were impulsive on your decision to be with him.

“Maybe she’ll say no… maybe it’s not the right time, Steve. What if she doesn’t want me at all?” He sighs, looking at the beautiful diamond ring that he had handpicked for you. “Oh, nonsense, Buck,” Steve replies as he looks at the goats in the pasture “I think if anything, she’d be over the moon about it. I have a feeling you’ll know when the time is right.”

“You think so?”

“Sure, I do. I see the way you two look at each other. Sounds like you both are always in your little world. It’s cute. Everyone can see it. You have a soft spot for her, and she has a soft spot for you. She even plans what to do when you both meet up.” Bucky’s eyebrows raise. “She really… does that?” A chuckle leaves Steve’s lips as he nods and fiddles with his fingers. “Of course. Trust me, I’ve waited too long to do something that you’re planning on doing. Know that you deserve this. The time is gonna come where you are dying to ask her. I know she’ll say yes.”

“You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” He asks, snapping out of his thoughts, making you smile and shake your head. “What’s on your mind sweetheart?” You question softly, subconsciously playing with his dark locks with your delicate fingers.

Boy, did Steve’s words ring so true at this moment.

He adored how the sunlight made your complexion look almost golden. Your hair was blowing softly in the wind, framing your beautifully shaped face. Your kind smile was knocking his lungs out. It was nicely paired with the beautiful body of water that was in front of you both. Once again, he felt like he was in paradise.

“You.” He whispers, smiling as he instinctively leans to your touch, watching you as you’re caught by surprise. “What about me?” you ask as your cheeks slowly heat up at his simple response. “Everythin’ about you sweetheart. From the time we met at the market, the quinjet, everything.” He says, tears welling up in his eyes as the amount of love that he’s received from you hits him full force. As if it was a wave, growing bigger and bigger as his memories of you both flash before his eyes. “I wanna keep feelin’ this way. No one does these things for me, no one is willing to stay for this long. Everyone fears me. Not you. You didn’t waver, Y/N. You stayed.” He whispers, voice cracking at the thought.

Tears managed to fall down your face, nuzzling your nose with his. “You gave me a sense of peace that I haven’t felt in decades, sweetheart.” He sniffs, allowing himself to feel you, allowing his feelings to take control. “You make me feel like I can be Bucky. Even if I’m figuring it out, I know you’re helping me a whole lot. Can’t believe I got a wonderful gal like you, Y/N.” You cried even harder, proud of how far you two have come, no ounce of regret towards your decision. “I’m glad you were stubborn to want to try, because I want to try for you too, Y/N. I wanna keep being this way with you, where we both find peace. Imagine that huh? One day, we can have a little house, with our children… whether it be actual kids, plants, animals, you name it.” He whispers into your lips, running his hands through your hair, loving the feel of you.

“Maybe we can get that cat you’ve mentioned wanting to have too,” you giggle softly and breathily with a smile as you scoot closer to him. “Yeah, maybe we can. We can have picnics, movie nights. Oh, doll. That’s the dream, isn’t it?” “Buck, you have no idea how much I think of that. When this is over, I’d love to do just that.” You whisper with confidence, tears continuing to fall as you both bask in that fantasy. “I love you, YN,”

“I love you too, Buck… so so much.”

“Then, will you marry me?”

Wait.

You looked up at him in shock, gasping at the realization of the fact that he proposed to you. You barely registered that his hand was no longer in your hair, but instead, on a velvet box with a beautiful diamond ring that shone brightly against the sunset. You cried even harder and nodded, heart racing fast. “Yes, Buck… yes. Yes!” You wail, watching as his hand carefully slipped the ring into your ring finger. His smile reciprocated yours, beaming as he cried tears of joy and relief as you tightly embraced him, peppering his face with kisses. You pulled back a bit, admiring the brunet once again, happy that he looked as peaceful as you felt, for now, you two were one step closer to achieving a paradise of your own.

“Let’s try, Buck. I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper before your lips lock with his, burying themselves once again in his hair. You two could feel each other’s happiness in the kiss through your smiles. You two have reached Cloud 9 once again.

“For you, sweetheart? I’m gonna give you my all.”

Permanent Taglist: @world-of-aus @world-of-aus-reads @whew-oh-em-gee @tomholland-96 @lordyitsjordy @letstalkaboutsebbaby @thee-soom-soom @lookiamtrying @vesper852 @hailhydra920 @buckybarnesthehotshot @heyiamthatbitch @rodrikstark

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#mcu #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes scenario #buckybarnesxreader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky Barnes x reader drabble #bucky barnes drabble #wakanda!bucky #wakanda!bucky x reader #fandom basurero fics #peace of mind and heart

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anotherspnfanfic · 4 years

Text

Holy Muffins, Batman

Summary: She needs somewhere to work, Dean has just the place.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 1612

Warnings: none, it’s all fluff

Squares filled: Cafe owner!Dean for @spnchristmasbingo, burgers and fries for @spndeanbingo

A/N: I kind of love how this one turned out. 😊

~~~

She walked into the cafe and smiled when she saw her favorite corner booth was empty. As she slid into her seat, she pulled out her laptop.

“G’morning, sweetheart. You’re here early today.”

She looked over and spotted Dean headed her way. “Yeah, tell me about it.” She stifled a yawn. “But I have a deadline. I stared at a blinking cursor for at least two and a half hours yesterday. I figured a change of scenery might do the trick. My editor will hunt me down if she doesn’t have something from me today.”

“So extra large on your latte then?” He was already slowly backing away from the table to go prepare her drink.

She nodded eagerly. “Please, and keep ‘em coming.”

He returned a couple minutes later. He set a large mug on the table and a plate with three muffins. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Holy muffins, Batman.” She laughed.

He chuckled and shrugged. “Blueberry, your usual. The others are a gingerbread and a, uh, lemon cranberry.” He sounded uncertain. “Jody made them. Something about us needing Christmas-themed options. Figured you could test them out and let me know what you think.”

She lifted the one with cranberries and smelled it. “I think I can handle that. They smell amazing.”

“I’ll let you get to work. Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled as he turned and walked over to greet a recently-occupied table.

Sipping her latte, she looked around the cafe and watched as a handful of people came in for their morning coffee and promptly left again. She pulled off pieces of each of the muffins, munching as she people-watched. When she had finished off one muffin, she finally opened her laptop and powered it up.

Accessing her previously saved Word document, she heard Dean laugh. The sound drew her attention to where he stood behind the counter, joking with a couple placing an order. She couldn’t help but mirror his infectious smile. She turned her attention to the screen in front of her. Before she knew it, she had several paragraphs written and the inspiration was, finally, flowing freely.

Some time later, she reached for her mug that had been nearly empty when she’d last taken a sip. Instead, she found a new, full latte in its place. She wondered when that had appeared and how she had missed the delivery. She looked up and spotted Dean wiping down the table two over from her. “Thanks, Dean.” She lifted the mug as she spoke. He winked before resuming his task. She felt the blush creep over her cheeks as she turned her attention back to her writing.

She finished a chapter and was emailing the document to her editor when a hand waved between her face and the computer screen. She looked up to find Dean standing beside the table with a plate in his hands.

“I think you’ve looked away from that screen once in the last four hours,” he started. He set the plate down. “And that was ten minutes after I brought you a fresh latte. I figured you might be hungry, but I didn’t want the burger to be cold before you noticed it.”

“It has not been…” She trailed off as she looked at the clock. “How has it been four hours?!”

He shrugged.

She picked a fry off the plate and ate it. “Well, you were right. I am actually starving.”

He chuckled. “We can’t have that. Is there anything else I can get you?”

She bit her lip to contain her smile. “Hmm, yes. Some company would be nice.”

He smirked mischievously. “Sure. I can send Jody over. You can tell her what you think of the muffins.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not who I had in mind. The boss does give you a lunch break, right?”

“I think he can make an exception today,” he teased. Both of them knowing he was talking about himself. “I’ll be right back.”

He came back two minutes later with another plate with his own burger and fries. He set the dish on the table before sliding in across from her.

As he settled, she took a bite of her burger and moaned loudly. He raised his eyebrows, amusement playing across his features. “Sorry,” she mumbled, quickly covering her mouth.

“You won’t ever hear me complain about getting a woman to make that sound,” he said with a cocky smirk. He winked before lifting his own burger off his plate.

“Smooth.” She took another bite and waited until she had swallowed to continue. “Seriously though, I hope you know you’ve ruined burgers from anywhere else. These are incredible.”

A small, proud smile replaced his smirk as he broke eye contact momentarily. “Thank you.”

They continued to eat in a comfortable silence. Munching on the remaining fries, she asked, “Do you have any fun plans for Christmas?”

He nodded as he finished chewing. “Kind of. Just dinner and gifts with my brother, his wife, and our parents. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same. Dinner and gifts with my sister and parents.”

“Just the one sibling?” he asked.

“Yup. Just me and her. Just you and your brother?”

He nodded. “Older or younger?”

“She’s older. I’m the baby of the family.” He stole a fry off her plate and she smacked his hand. She scowled the best she could while trying not to laugh.

“Sammy is four years younger than me.” There was a fondness in his voice that told her how much he loved his brother.

“So you torment him.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean chuckled. “Well, it is in the older sibling handbook. It’s actually required.”

She finished her fries then lifted her napkin to wipe her mouth. She set it on top of the empty plate.

He watched as she eyed her laptop quickly. “What exactly is it you’ve been typing away at all morning?”

“The beginning of my next book. It’s the third of a series,” she explained.

“Wow. What are they about?”

“Monsters.” She watched as his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Werewolves, vampires, changelings… you know, all the things that go bump in the night.”

He cleared his throat, letting the information settle. “I don’t know what I was expecting but that wasn’t it. Please, tell me more.”

She shook her head. “You are just going to have to read the books if you want to know more.”

“Okay.” He reached toward the laptop to try and pull it over to himself.

She pushed his hand away. “No, no, no, nice try. I was referring to the published ones.”

He pouted. “Fine. I guess I should let you get back to it.” He stood and picked up the empty plates.

“Thanks for joining me.” She pulled her laptop in front of her and was back to writing before he was ten steps away.

Several hours and lattes later, she finished sending yet another email to her editor before starting to shut down her laptop. Glancing around, she noticed most of the tables had the chairs set up on top. Dean was sitting at a table near the window, Christmas lights now lit in the trees outside. She smiled at the view for a moment. She could see his concentration as he typed something. Pulling her eyes away from him she finally noticed everyone else was gone, including his staff.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, causing him to look over at her.

He checked his watch and chuckled. “I actually closed up about twenty minutes ago.”

“What?” She closed her laptop and put it back into her bag. “Why didn’t you kick me out?”

“You looked like you were on a roll.” He gestured toward the surface in front of him, littered with papers. “And I wasn’t ready to head out anyway.”

Grabbing her bag, she stood and moved towards his table. “Don’t you have a perfectly good office for all of that?”

He gave her a lopsided grin as he glanced back down at the table. “Yes, I do, but I didn’t want you to look up and find no one here.”

She shifted her bag on her shoulder. “I appreciate that, and thank you for letting me camp out here all day.”

“You are welcome to camp out here anytime you want to, sweetheart.”

She blushed. “So, what do I owe you?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “On the house.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to protest. “I insist.” He reached forward and pulled down the laptop screen, smoothly closing it.

She groaned. “Fine. If you insist. Thank you, again.”

He stood and placed his hands on both of her arms. He tipped his head down and looked her in the eyes. “Any chance you want to go get some dessert somewhere? I know a place that has great pie.”

She looked down at the table. “I thought you said you weren’t ready to leave yet.” She looked back at him and watched the smallest smile appear.

“Did I?” He feigned innocence. “Huh, well I can finish this later.”

She considered his offer. “On one condition. We also walk around downtown to look at all the Christmas lights.”

“Sounds like a deal.” He offered his hand for her to take. As she took it, he ran his thumb across her knuckles. He took two steps backwards before turning toward the door and pulling her with him. He flipped the lights off and locked the door as they left.

Enjoying each other’s company, they slowly strolled hand-in-hand down the sidewalk toward their destination, taking in all the lights and decorations along the way.

~~~

Tags: @deanwasscaredbyacat @babypieandwhiskey @muchamusedaboutnothing @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @thoughts-and-funnies

#spn #spndeanbingo #spnchristmasbingo #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester au #dean winchester x reader #cafe owner AU #cafe owner dean #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean one shot #my gif

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

not without my muse

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson/steve rogers

fandom: mcu

rating: general

word count: 9259

warning: swearing, referenced (canon) character death

summary: Sam celebrates his birthday while on the run. He has a lot of feelings about being away from home, and a lot of feelings about two of his companions. (slightly canon divergent post-cacw pining)

(my best boy sam wilson’s birthday AND on bisexual visibility day 🥳 he is so important to me of course i needed to write something. this is for the lovely Samtember event by @samwilsonfest, and this is also my first time writing the all caps ot3 !! i want to thank my beta-reader for helping me out sm with this, and the horse gc on twitter for cheering me on as always 💖 hope you enjoy??)

read on ao3

This morning is just as the many, many other mornings Sam’s had since he became a fugitive from the government; waking up from relatively peaceful slumber on a stiff mattress and remembering the reality of the ship that is their only refuge. Better than stingy motels, though.

God. Yet another day.

It’s only been three months since Steve and him picked Bucky up; five months since Natasha joined them. Four of them now, harder to stay under the radar, but they’re making it work.

Naturally the blond is keeping an eye on his friend every waking moment, and Sam’s decided to do the same when Steve finally lets himself sleep.

The ex-Winter Soldier is quiet. He seemed happy to see them. Tired. Sam would be surprised otherwise.

And now they’ve landed for three days; that’s the maximum, of course, and they’ll have to get in the air as early as possible, stretching it an extra day isn’t the wisest, but resources are limited and they need to eat, obviously.

He blinks himself awake in the morning sunlight streaming in; the faintest of bird songs outside. Seems to be the first one awake.

Just another day on the run. Except-

Except it’s Sam’s birthday today.

It takes a minute for it to hit him, actually, funny; he’d almost forgotten it was coming up. That’s strange to think about. But as fugitives, that’s still just as much another day, because, well, what is he supposed to do?

What Sam sits up, stares into the empty space in front of him and thinks of, what he wants and needs so desperately is to go home. To his little sister, his nephews.

They have burner phones and it helps. But that doesn’t really feel like enough right now, it couldn’t. He hopes he’ll have the chance to have a phone call today, then, with any of them. Sarah’s voice always grounds him when he needs it, or hearing Cass’ laugh.

Even with burner phones they’re keeping contact short and limited, you can’t ever be careful enough. Maybe Nat’s too paranoid, or maybe she’s just too experienced with this thing. The latter, he’d say. They have to remain untraceable, unfindable.

Somehow, by his friend’s pained face a month ago, when she’d been humming American Pie to herself and he’d sat down, not really saying anything but rather just listened, a soothing sort of thing in the middle of this, he’s got a feeling she understands what he’s feeling right now. Missing someone so badly you can’t get yourself to do anything else.

Speaking of Natasha, soon enough she enters his line of vision and takes the rear seat, reminding him that he needs to get up already. Get ready. Get going. Yet another day.

“‘Morning,” he tells her while stretching, his back aching, which is to be expected nowadays, sadly. Last night was probably the most rest they’ve had in days.

She nods in acknowledgement; not a morning person, he’s aware.

For a split second Sam wonders if she knows what day it is, but perhaps it doesn’t really matter. He can’t remember if he’s told her. Or if she found out on her own with those russian superspy skills of hers.

Ah, well. It’s not like he expects a surprise party. Or gifts or cake or… whatever. He just wishes he’d had more sleep, two weeks of it would be sufficient. One can only dream.

As his friend wakes the Quinjet to life and he himself gets to work at the map, previous locations and small jobs pinned as they go, though, he feels a hand and arm briefly graze his waist as the person passes by behind him.

He reveals himself soon enough; Steve’s voice is hoarser than usual when he tells him, “Happy birthday, Sammy.”

The blond caught a cold recently, which he didn’t even know was possible with the super serum, but he passed by it quickly. Reminded Bucky of the old days, whatever that may have meant.

His friend remembered. And now said friend is standing next to him with a shy smile and looking at him in a way that puzzles Sam. Sort of like he wants to say more. Or like the greeting wasn’t enough, like he was ashamed. Or like he’s keeping something from him. That’s a lot he’s getting from just one facial expression, he realises, but spending every waking moment with someone else makes you familiar, more than they already were, that is.

The smile does make him feel instantly better about getting up at all this morning.

It reminds Sam of Sarah’s voice. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?

But it’s grounding. He likes Steve’s smile a lot; the bigger one even better, when it turns into a grin without all the self-righteousness he puts on when they get down to business, and he just looks wide-eyed and sunny.

And he smiles back easily, feeling his smile form like the warmth spreading in his throat.

God, his eyes are still burning. His friend’s hand hasn’t left his waist, he suddenly realises. Does Steve realise? Should he point it out? He’s probably as tired as himself, he reasons.

“You remembered?” The statement comes out as more of a question, and the man next to him soon turns the smile into a half-frown.

“Of course,” the blond replies, “It’s your birthday.”

His voice is ever so stern. Sam would laugh at his serious demeanor, if he wasn’t still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to, man. Given our, uh… current situation.”

His friend’s hand still hasn’t left his waist. Huh. He isn’t complaining, though, the touch is… soft. Welcome. It just makes his brain wander, which is a little hard work at 6am.

“You should,” Steve says. He’s smiling again, and turns then, to look at the map lighting up in front of them, “It’s important.”

See, another thing Sam likes about him: the sincerity is overwhelmingly evident, clear when it’s coming from him. He nods, and bites his lip. Both of them seem to contemplate the visual in front of them for a bit. When Bucky’s footsteps sound behind them and he eventually appears on the other side of Steve, the blond still doesn’t remove his hand.

He doesn’t really want him to move it, to be completely honest. Sam likes it there. Perhaps he could touch it with his own. But that’d be weird, right?

A gruff mumble reaches him with its own lieu of a greeting, “Happy birthday.”

Sam finds himself blinking in surprise; slowly, twice.

Ah, well. Steve must’ve told him.

They’re not doing any odd jobs today; missions are there when they need to keep busy, and Nat’s an expert on undercover work. Rather the goal for the day is finding a new hideout for a night or two and stocking up on supplies. Still undercover work, kind of.

This is why they’re heading into the main street in sunglasses, caps and hoodies, keeping their heads low, weapons down and Bucky’s instinct to cover his arm sticks with him, clearly.

“Two hours,” Natasha told them, “We can’t afford to risk anymore. Meet back at the ship.”

They all know the plan, because it’s the same plan, time after time, day after day, yet they repeat it like a mantra. Soon enough, they’re split into teams, the brunette and blonde heading for the pharmacy while he and Steve look over the grocery store aisles.

Sam’s planning to call Sarah; hopefully catch her when she’s home from work, before going to bed, otherwise he wouldn’t know when he’d be able to get a hold of her again. Might be weeks. Going by the sugary cereals reminds him a bit too much of his nephews, in fact, he has to look straight ahead and keep going. He feels Steve’s eyes on his neck.

Speaking of Steve, once they’re in the queue, Sam feels a familiar hand going for his pocket and it certainly isn’t his own.

The blond doesn’t speak a word. He wants to ask, but his friend puts all his focus on paying with his only free hand, and a strange sense of calm comes over Sam, for some reason he can’t begin to explain. This birthday is stranger than he expected it to be.

And the moment disappears again before he knows it; like in the morning, on the ship.

Steve had to let go eventually. Sam finds himself wishing he didn’t.

Even stranger, the blond has an errand to run, he says. Alone.

“You sure?” he hesitates with the question, because surely if Steve wanted him to know he would say, but keeping secrets is sort of out of character for his friend, “We’re meeting Bucky and Nat halfway. We’ll watch your back.”

Steve shakes his head firmly, “I’ll catch up to you, won’t be long.”

He still isn’t saying exactly where he’s going. It worries Sam, just a little bit. Not exactly a fan of letting his best friend out of sight.

But when the blond’s set on a decision, there’s no way anyone can tell him otherwise. “Okay,” Sam decides, “Call me if you need me.”

“Always.”

In response to his explanation of Steve’s absence, he gets a simple tilt of Natasha’s head and Bucky’s face twitching so quickly he’d miss it if they weren’t huddled so close together. The woman doesn’t exactly look happy about it. The taller man, meanwhile, he has the face that Sam knows is his worrying face; he just recognizes it so instantly it scares him a little.

At least his other friends are behaving normally; well, not Bucky, because he’s been considering too many reasons why the ex-Winter Soldier would possibly know about his birthday, and all of them are logical. But it still makes him feel some sort of way. Like when Steve smiles at him.

It takes Sam a moment to register Natasha speaking because he’s stuck inside his head about the two other men, but, “Happy birthday, by the way,” she tells him, a crooked smile and hands in her pockets.

“Thanks, Romanova. Still hate birthdays?”

“Absolutely,” she huffs, “Mostly my own, however. Must be a disappointing one today, though, huh?”

Sam just has to move his eyes to Bucky for a second, who abandoned the bench for the flea market on the other side of the road. He has no idea why.

He wonders if his friend notices. He shrugs in response, “Could be better. I need to talk to my sister.”

Her nod is short, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s these types of situations where he knows better than to ask.

And while the brunette’s crossing the street back to them again, the blond also reappears behind them, which is clear by him patting Sam’s shoulder. He’s never been this touchy before. Has he?

What’s the most surprising isn’t that though, rather, it’s when Natasha eagerly continues on, right in the heels of Bucky, and Steve matches his own pace behind them. Then, he hands Sam a white box.

He doesn’t understand. His best friend looks at him expectantly, until it seemingly dawns upon that Sam needs an explanation.

“It’s for you,” he says, smile evident in his voice, no matter how hard he tries to whisper.

“For me?” he asks, because the gesture confuses him beyond words, “I- why?”

Well, this is a birthday present, isn’t it? It can’t be, though. Steve really shouldn’t. It’d be too much trouble to do when they’re literally running for their lives, and the guilt is already showing its ugly head inside his mind.

It’s Steve’s turn to look confused, “For your birthday.”

Right. Right, okay.

“You didn’t have to.”

His friend slows down his pace a bit, “I know.”

“But you still…” Sam doesn’t really know where he’s going with that sentence, to be honest. That feeling in his gut wishes Steve’s hand was touching his waist again. He could easily understand. Explain it away, act like it’s not making him feel certain things and think certain thoughts and making him overthink the blond’s eyes staring back at him behind the shades.

“I wanted to, Sam,” Steve tells him, speeding up again, they almost lost sight of their friends for a second there, “You deserve it. Well, you deserve more, but I- we can’t.”

It’s as if his heart does a somersault, runs a marathon and wrings itself inside out, all at the same time.

Oh.

Sam decides to look at him in question, and his friend somehow knows what he’s saying, “Open it.”

So he does. Inside, he finds a birthday cake. Or rather an oreo ice cream cake. One similar to the one he’s gotten for basically all the birthdays he can remember, all the way back to his childhood. It’s a tradition.

When exactly did he tell Steve about that? He must have, sometime, a long time ago, but he can’t recall when.

And because he’s getting a bit too overwhelmed by this gift, and this day that’s barely even started, he just looks at the cake in shock and tries for the life of himself to look casual about it. He also tries extremely hard to read his friend’s face, but it’s nearly impossible.

“My favorite,” is all Sam can come up with. He feels like a bit of an idiot. But also, he feels like someone needs to pinch his side. And he feels a lot like flying, no wings required.

“I know.”

Steve is doing things to him, and he probably doesn’t even realise.

He wouldn’t expect anything else, he’s a good friend, he’s Sam's best friend, yet the blond putting his hand in his pocket again and the box holding that cake is making his head spin.

He has to stop thinking about it too much. Sam just really needs to talk to Sarah.

Getting through the crowds of people, avoiding any possible surveillance cameras and eyeing suspicious suited men until they realise they’re just accountants or lawyers or bankers, it’s quite some work, but they make it back to the secluded woods where the Quinjet’s waiting - thank heavens for cloaking technology, huh?

He eyes his wristwatch, now might be the best time to try reaching his little sister. There’s coverage, too, it seems.

This is why Sam slows down and eventually stops in front of the entrance, the three of them all giving him a variation of confused looks until he holds up the burner phone as explanation. He hopes they’ll understand. They nod, so most likely.

“Don’t be long, Sam,” the woman warns him, but there’s still a hint of smile there. He returns it with a bit of relief.

The tone rings three times before someone answers. Sam is close to giving up until the sound shakes, and his sister’s voice comes through the speaker and washes over him with the greatest relief he’s felt in a long time, “Sammy?”

He can’t help the grin growing on his face. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Sarah’s giggles remind him of home. And God, does he want to see them again so badly.

He doesn’t regret standing by Steve, but being so far from the safety he knows is terrifying, sometimes. And lonely.

“You’re still causing trouble?” she asks, and yeah, she can always get a laugh out of him, no matter the situation, no matter how long they've been apart. It’s part of their connection, he guesses.

Sam also rolls his eyes, which she can’t see, of course, she’d only tease him more, “Trying to stay out of it, more like.”

His little sister sighs, “Happy birthday. I miss you.”

The relief and nostalgic happiness switches into something a bit more melancholic, the nostalgia frighteningly more heartbreaking. They usually avoid talking about, well, Sam’s current situation, whenever they communicate. It took him a long time of secrecy before breaking the news to his nephews, revealing why he couldn’t visit them at the moment.

“I miss you too,” Sam tells her, hoping his sincerity can be heard over the phone, “I wish I could see you.”

“Me too.”

Speaking of his nephews, it’s not long into their phone calls before some muffled voices in the background make themselves known, and Sarah laughs softly again, some movement can be heard, “It’s your uncle on the phone.”

He’s pretty sure she put him on speaker, because next thing he knows AJ is yelling into his ear, “Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam!?”

Sam bites his lip. He hasn’t got much time before they need to leave, and if he returns to the ship with tears in his eyes Steve will probably look at him with his big knowing eyes and say this is all his fault. He can’t have his best friend blaming himself this much, not right now, anyway.

Because, well, yeah, they’re on the run because of the Accords. He’d never sign that for the life of him regardless of Steve, but Sam also trusts the blond with his life honestly. Since they met Steve’s been by his side, unwavering, and he intends to do the same for him.

And he doesn’t know Bucky… he still doesn’t. He’d like to. But if Steve is willing to go this far for his friend, he’s just as willing.

He shakes the thoughts of his two friends out of his head, for now, sniffles and laughs through the tears threatening to escape his eyes, “I’m here, buddy.”

“Uncle Sam, are you crying?” Cass’ voice comes through this time, he really can’t hide anything from them, can he? “You shouldn’t be sad on your birthday. You’re beating up bad guys, right?!”

Sarah’s laugh overlaps with his own, “Not exactly.”

“Oh, all the time,” he retaliates, “Your mother’s lying to you, boys.”

His sister’s fake gasp sets him back to the lemonade stand they set up together when they were kids, Sam was certain he remembered their mom’s recipe right, and Sarah didn’t talk to him the whole day when he doubted her version. Of course neither of them were right, anyway.

He feels like a broken record inside his head, but the only thing he wishes for is to see her face. Kiss her nose because she found it so embarrassing, but she’s grown fond of it, he can just tell.

So Sam does try to narrate the odd jobs they’ve been doing, making it as dramatic as possible and leaving out all the existential fear and doubt and his tired bones repeating the same protocols over and over. The boys love every second of it.

He knows his sister is shaking her head at him when AJ excitedly interrupts his story of his first visit to Wakanda, “I could be a hero too, right? Right!?” “You can be anything you want,” he tells him, the tears welling up again. In the far corner of his eye he spots Nat returning to the walkway of the Quinjet, leaning against the opening expectantly. She can wait for a minute, he decides.

“Mom! Mom! Uncle Sam said I can be just like him!”

“You can, sweetheart, but that’s for when you’re older, okay?” Sarah’s voice is a bit quieter now, and his nephews both come through with some sad sounding noises, “Your uncle’s job can be- uh, dangerous.”

He nods. That’s an understatement. Of course, none of them can see this, he realises, once again looking towards his friend who’s waiting for him, looking up in the sky in search of who knows what. Redwing’s still checking the perimeter, so they should be safe for now. The blonde doesn’t exactly trust the drone, as she’s told him on many, many occasions, but she’ll warm up to him.

“Your mom’s right,” Sam finally answers, and although he’s not sure he fully believes it himself, he’ll make the best attempt he can to ease his little sister’s worries. God knows how much she’s got to deal with back home, “I’ll be careful, though. I gotta come back and check on you guys.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, “You better.”

Sam smiles. He can hear the tears in her voice, too, “I promise. I intend to keep my promises.”

His sister sighs, she’s not agreeing or disagreeing or… anything, but she sounds a little more calm. A little. He’s trying, but he knows he’s giving himself away, tripping in place and laughing more nervously than anything else.

“I know you don’t have much time, Sam. Just promise me you’re taking care of yourself, okay?” “Always-”

“Did you have any cake, Uncle Sam?” AJ’s voice resurfaces once again, and he laughs at the interruption, “We always get cake for you… we want to.”

The disappointment is clear as day, and very much breaking his heart into pieces that he doesn’t know how to pick up or where to keep. Sam clears his throat instead, and looks toward his blonde friend once again, who gives him a crooked smile and shrugs one shoulder.

They should go soon. Nat’s looking at her watch, but she’s not rushing him, though.

“I know you do, buddy. We can have all the cake we want when I come to visit you, right?” he reassures his nephew, who giggles with his brother in excitement, before his sister’s half-joking disapproval, “I wouldn’t say all the cake, but we’ll see about it.”

He looks away from his friend on the Quinjet, looks at his watch, sees Redwing descending to the ground. Time’s up.

But for some reason, Sam can’t say goodbye before he finds a question popping up in his mind, one that’s been all there all day and confused him to no end. “Sarah?” he asks, she hums in response, “I have to go but I need to ask, does it- uhm… does it mean something if Steve got me a birthday cake?”

A moment of silence again, somehow seeming agonizingly longer than before. “I don’t understand what you’re asking, Sammy, sorry.” He thinks his sister might be frowning in question, but it’s hard to tell. She just sounds as confused as he’s feeling.

“I mean… I don't know. He remembered my favorite cake. And he went on this secret trip to get it?”

Sam laughs at himself, and the thoughts of his friend come back again. The friend he’s known for a long time now, the one who held his hand as they landed in Wakanda, something that he didn’t fully process then because of how the airsickness clogged his ears and made him feel like vomiting, but it’s all he can think back to, now.

He continues, “I just don’t understand why he’d go to so much trouble for me. One wrong move, a wrong person and he could’ve-”, of course, he abruptly pauses, remembering his young nephews still on the line, backtracking, “... you know.”

Sam doesn’t know how long he waits for his little sister’s answer, and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting either. She can’t exactly look into Steve’s head, and they’ve never met, anyway. Maybe she’ll tell him to stop worrying and focus on not getting arrested, or worse.

And yet, Sarah replies with, “You’re worth that risk.”

He furrows his brows, “Sorry?”

“You’re worth that risk and more, Sam. To me,” she says, voice confident and filled with the peace of the early mornings he misses so much, “And to him too, I bet.”

Huh. Sam cannot for the life of him think of a response to that.

“You still with me?”

He shakes his head at himself, nods at Natasha, who nods in response and retreats into the ship. “Hm? Yeah, yeah. I am.”

Sarah laughs at him, which is a bit rude, but he doesn’t mind. He’d like to listen to it all day and every day, if he could. In fact, he has to remind himself to make her laugh as much as he can when he sees them again.

He promised to get back to them. Sam Wilson keeps his promises.

“I love you,” his sister says, which is better than saying goodbye. Until next time, more like. See you soon, very, very soon.

It’s only then he feels like he can breathe again, “Love you too.”

See, being on the run in a Quinjet is much, much easier than Steve’s tragically tiny car - not only due to the advantage of having space and proper beds and not having to check in on questionable locations every three days under a new fake name, but also, it has a freezer.

Useful when your best friend decides to get you an ice cream birthday cake.

Sam actually finds it already placed in the freezer, one that’s heavily organized, all thanks to Nat. When he spots the box, he finds himself wondering if their two companions noticed it. If so, they aren’t addressing it.

A silence has settled over the ship now; it’s midday, sky’s clear save for the grey clouds lurking in the distance, and Steve’s taken over the rear so Natasha can take a break. They do it in shifts, because more often than not they have to keep on the move at night, as well.

And while their friend has resided to her bed and headphones, Sam lingers in the kitchen area, interconnected with the main cockpit.

The blond’s back is turned to him. He always taps his foot when he’s concentrating on something, and he’s put on the radio. Marvin Gaye, of course. Sam can’t help smiling to himself.

Steve’s hair has grown ridiculously long now- well, so has his own, not exactly much access to hairdressers at the moment. They could both match Bucky’s hairdo soon, he bets.

Speaking of the long haired man, this is exactly who soon joins him, almost sneaking up on him, his footsteps barely making a sound. Sam was a bit in his own world anyway, he’ll admit.

When he appears on his side, he stands for a moment and moves his gaze in the same direction as his own. Sam wonders if he should make conversation, but the moment’s gone in the blink of an eye when Bucky grabs a beer from the fridge and then comes to learn against the counter like himself.

It’s a rare kind of quiet on the ship.

It feels almost… relaxed. Calm unlike those many strained silences after almost getting recognized in public or nights when Sam finds himself unable to sleep, and somehow, a strange sense of knowing that all his friends are kept awake as well. Steve snores, so the lack of the sound is a giveaway, and Nat is restless, moving around the ship when she thinks the men don’t hear her.

Bucky’s bed is in his line of vision, however, so he knows the longer haired man rarely sleeps these days. At least, when he’s up at night, he’s noticed his friend staring at the ceiling, bedsheet abandoned at his feet and almost looking like he’s holding his breath.

It’s those nights Sam is eternally grateful for the locket his sister gave him; made sure to put her and his nephews on one side, their parents on the other. He can’t explain how, but having them close to his heart when they’re running errands, the anxiety that creeps up on him lessens, a little bit.

And Riley’s army tags. He left their pictures together back at the house, he bitterly remembers, and prays to all the higher powers out there that the agents sent after them haven’t touched that box. That it’s still on the top shelf of his closet, containing the polaroids and every drawing Cass has made him, and his mother’s favorite scarf.

Sam smiles to himself at the memory. She knitted him a million scarves and socks and hats, but that one, it keeps him connected to her. Like, he can put it under his pillow and close his eyes and he can almost see her and her warm eyes and hear her sing him and Sarah to sleep.

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted, by the man next to him poking his side gently.

“I got you something,” Bucky tells him, his demeanor neutral, lips showing the slightest hint of a smile that no one would notice. Sam does, though. He does the same when they play chess to pass the time; secretive, trying his hardest to hide his enjoyment of the game.

He blinks at his friend, “Huh?”

The brunette shrugs, “For your birthday. It’s not much, but…”

“I…” Sam doesn’t even know what to say, one minute focused on Steve’s gift and now another gift for him to process, neither of which he expected at all, “Bucky, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Bucky shrugs again. “Don’t care. I wanted you to have something.”

Okay. His friend’s face doesn’t change a bit, but the moment changes, and it’s much like the ship and everything else around them vanishes into thin air. It’s just the man next to him and his stoic face and messed up hair.

“Is that okay?” he asks him, and Sam can’t do anything else than nod. He has to take a deep breath, for some reason, as if his lungs grew three sizes. And it feels like someone lit fire sparklers inside his chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course it’s okay. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“Good,” his friend replies quickly, before turning his back to him and walking across the room.

He returns not long after, with a familiar white box in his hands, and offers it to Sam before grabbing the beer can again. Leaning back, taking a way bigger gulp than necessary, eyes seemingly avoiding to look him in the eyes.

He really can’t stop looking at Bucky, though. So he opens the box instead, and finds just how familiar it is. Inside it, an ice cream cake. His favorite. Also, the exact same as the one Steve got him just hours earlier.

This is why Sam looks up at the blond’s still turned back for a moment. He’s whistling to the tune of the music.

Then Sam looks back at Bucky, who still isn’t looking at him, and bites his lip. He finds himself clutching the box tightly, fearing it’s a dream that’ll disappear if he startles awake, but none of it fades away and instead he’s stuck in place because… so, not only did his two friends get him cake.

They got him the same cake. Two of them.

His only guess is that they didn’t plan or… coordinate anything, because it’s not like they had much time in town. They made sure to get something there. For him.

Sam can’t quite contain the grin growing on his face.

And, well, his friend is still avoiding looking at him, so he nudges him with his elbow and hopes his, “Thank you,” doesn’t sound too hoarse or low or nervous even though his voice breaks in the middle. He wishes he could call Sarah again, and tell the boys he’s gotten two cakes this year. They’d be ecstatic. And he could forget his confusion for a bit.

Bucky shrugs once again. “It’s the least I could do.”

Hours pass by until the evening announces its presence, and Sam and his friends are each left to their own devices; Steve’s steering while Natasha’s navigating the map, and while he himself was searching for a podcast to shut the world out for a minute he rather just ends up listening to the rain pattering down around them.

One birthday out of the ordinary, that’s for sure. It’s around ten before he sees Bucky again, but he does appear, with a new can of beer and sits on the far end of his bed. His hair’s still damp from the shower, tied up in a bun.

Sam quite likes it when he does that; well, he likes his long hair, it looks like it would be soft. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but… he just knows.

But he’s always blowing strands of hair away from his face, and this way, you can see all his features, every little thing you don’t immediately notice, every tiny waver on his lips and every glint in his eye.

The glint in said eyes appears when they play chess, of course. When Steve shows him one of his drawings, or when he huffs to himself over the book he acquired on the last flea market he found, multiple states over.

Thing is, it was definitely in his eyes when he handed Sam that box. Maybe that’s why he avoided looking at him after the fact.

And well, it’s got Sam’s heart in a twist. This whole day’s got his heart in a twist, really.

Because he misses his little sister and his nephews and his parents. And Riley’s tags against his chest are pressing too fucking hard.

And Steve and Bucky, they… they’re making him feel… how Riley made him feel. Breathless. Light as a feather. Like he could just look at them and everything would be okay despite everything being very, very much not okay these days. They’re just- they’re like that.

Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad.

Sam can’t be in love with his best friend. Or his best friend’s friend. Or… both?

He can’t be in love, period. Especially not with his partners in crime, so to speak. Yet, he can’t stop thinking about Steve’s smile and Bucky shrugging like it didn’t matter, but it mattered. It did to Sam. It does.

He shakes his head at himself and wonders if Sarah would do the same. Can you be in love with two people at the same time? It feels very real, but he doesn’t know. Maybe it just overwhelmed him. Maybe his birthday this year makes no sense, which he already knew, but regardless. Maybe they were just being good friends, or maybe they remind him of Riley too much, or maybe those feelings have been there all along and Sam’s been closing them off for too long.

Too many maybes. Way too many.

And apparently, Sam ponders over this for far too long, because the grey skies outside have turned significantly darker and Bucky has disappeared from his bed and instead sits down on his own. He already feels his heart jump into his throat.

“Hey,” the man says, a curious sort of look in his eyes, like he’s trying to read Sam’s mind. He can’t help returning the smile he’s given, instantly feeling at ease in the other man’s company. Steve’s still whistling along to the mixtapes in the cockpit, he can’t quite stop thinking about it, but that seems incredibly far away right now.

“Hey,” he answers. Sam’s trying to read the brunette, but he’s not sure how. Earlier, he grabbed a piece of each cake his friends gave him, and it’s an outstanding cake, almost as good as the one from his childhood, but he really couldn’t stop thinking about what Sarah told him over the phone. You’re worth that risk . “Bucky, can I ask you something?”

He nods. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

“Hm?”

“I mean,” Sam’s lips feel dry as he speaks, “Did Steve tell you? I just don’t remember it coming up, so-”

“Not today.”

What… what exactly does that mean?

“I don’t understand.”

Bucky’s face morphs into an expression that seems like he’s thinking hard, trying hard to recall something from a long, long time ago. And that turns out to be almost true, “When you visited me in Wakanda for the first time. It was a month before your birthday.”

That is also true. Sam wanted to go back home, trying to think of ways both he and Steve could hide out there but ultimately deemed it too dangerous. He’d never be able to live with himself if he put his sister and nephews in danger. He just couldn't.

“...Right.”

“You talked about Sarah,” he remembers, and the smile on his face grows a little bigger, “I had a sister, too. Older. You said she worries about you a lot. That her laugh is the best thing you know, that she teases you all the time, but you deserve it most of the time, too. Steve said you guys were talking about going fishing when all this is over, that your parents got a boat, because of your family business, uh-”

“Wilson Family Seafood,” Sam blurts out, because he has no idea what else to say.

“That’s it,” the brunette chuckles low, “I’ve always wanted to try seafood. Never did. Stevie won’t because he’s a coward. But he really wanted to meet your family. I get it, they sound lovely.”

So. Sam is rather speechless. All he’s feeling is the heat rising in his cheeks and hearing the rain growing louder. Bucky’s just sitting there with this big smile on his face and he wants to look inside his head and figure out why he’s doing this to him.

“You… you remembered all that?”

The man shrugs. “I did.”

“We weren’t- we barely knew each other, then. We fought all the time before Shuri treated you,” Sam points out.

“I know.”

“But you remembered my birthday, and my family, and-”

“You had orange juice in the morning,” he interrupts, “Steve hates orange juice. It made you laugh, how much he hates it, it’s a whole thing. Your eyes get all crinkled in the corners when you laugh like that, you could barely breathe. You looked really happy and… carefree. I wished you didn’t leave, that first time. I wanted you to stay.”

Oh. Oh.

“Bucky,” he tries, taking a breath. Sam gets this overwhelming urge to not say anything, and instead lean over and close the space between them. Is he overthinking this? “Why did you get me that cake? And why- how do you remember all of this? I wanted to check on you while Steve was undercover but I wasn’t sure if you trusted me enough, without him.”

The man next to him frowns, “It was for your birthday, Sam, I told you.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And I like looking at you.”

Sam thinks his brain might short circuit. He blinks in pure shock at the words, “What?”

“The sound of your voice is... calming. Beautiful. You know, I only acted like an asshole to get you to talk to me. I wanted you to trust me,” Bucky licks his lips, and although it seems like he wants to say more, he opens and closes his mouth within a few seconds.

The sparklers in his chest are nearly turning into fireworks, and Sam honestly doesn’t know how to hold them down. He doesn’t really want to. But he also doesn’t know if Bucky is… if he’s communicating the same feelings as the ones blooming inside himself.

He should ask. But the man next to him is blinking with his long lashes and a shy smile that makes Sam’s words fail him, and instead he feels compelled to ask something slightly different, “What- what are you saying? I mean what are you thinking about?”

They’ve also been inching closer to each other. And the sound of the rain has faded in his ears, because all he’s hearing is his own breathing mixed in with Bucky’s.

Sam can’t really breathe, maybe because he’s a little nervous that his reading of his friend is purely wishful thinking. It’s only been one day, but he’s fallen in love on his birthday, he doesn’t doubt it anymore, at all. Twice. At the same time, it feels like he’s finally breathing after holding his breath for over a year.

The brunette’s smile turns into a smirk that should probably annoy him, but it doesn’t. Just makes his heart beat faster.

“I’m thinking about kissing you,” Bucky says bluntly.

Oh, Sarah would be thrilled to hear this. But first things first, Sam thinks he might be going crazy.

But he’s not, you’re not . He hasn’t felt that swooping feeling in his gut since Riley, and… God. It just feels right, and he’d curse himself for never noticing this till now. But he’s too distracted by his friend’s statement, and how the fireworks in his chest are spreading to his entire body when he looks at Bucky’s face.

Sam’s already moving closer, “You want to kiss me?”

The other man huffs, “Pretty much. If you’d like that, that is.”

And well, he doesn’t need much time to think about that preposition, “I think I’d like that, yeah.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

They’re already practically nose to nose, it's been a long time since he’s rushed to act on something as fast as this, and he doesn’t even need to rush, because Bucky’s lips are on his before he knows it, and they’re chapped and slightly desperate but it’s just… perfect. Those fireworks, Sam’s seeing them under his eyelids and feeling them in his fingertips and it’s the best feeling he’s ever had, quite frankly.

His friend’s hand landing on his thigh is pretty good, too. Sam pulls back to catch his breath, and he feels lightheaded, all the way up in the clouds. Bucky frowns and pulls him back.

They kiss slowly, putting thousands of thoughts into every single one, and now, he can read the brunette like an open book. They fall into the same pace so, so easily. The hand on his thigh doesn’t move, just traces circles with his thumb, until it freezes for a second when Sam decides to hold it. His friend grins and their teeth clash, but neither of them care much.

It feels like forever and yet nowhere near enough time when they finally pull apart, and his companion runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Sam doesn’t want to let go of his hand. Bucky isn’t moving, either.

Now it’s definitely harder for Sam to breathe, but for a very different reason. He thinks it’s stopped raining outside. The brunette tilts his head and stares at him, not intensely, but a gaze that makes the fireworks reduce to a soft, everburning ember. He wishes he wasn’t lost for words. It all just makes sense.

“What are you doing?” Sam blurts out, eyes not leaving his friend’s. He’d like to keep kissing him, but he also craves a lot more sleep than last night. He was so very wrong about his birthday being just another day, this year.

Bucky’s smile isn’t shy anymore, “Looking at you.”

When Sam wakes the morning after his birthday, to the same walls of the Quinjet and the same hum of the engine and the same thin mattress, he feels like everything’s changed.

Steve’s still taking the helm and Natasha’s still cooking with her headphones on, but Bucky is giving him a sly smile over his coffee, which just makes him miss his lips. Too much.

He thinks the fireworks are changing into butterflies, sort of; he feels even lighter than yesterday, and he also fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The first thing when he opened his eyes being his friend messing up his hair definitely also contributed to the warmth still spreading in Sam’s body.

It does hit him, did their two companions see them? Realise what happened? They aren’t acknowledging it if they did, and the brunette’s throwing secretive glances at him every so often, which just makes Sam full out blush. Bucky smirks every time.

So, yeah, he’s pretty much floating on pink skies this morning, and his little sister would gag at his cheesiness, but he doesn’t care in the least.

He finds himself touching Riley’s tags with his ring finger, through his t-shirt. The metal’s cold, not burning itself into his chest anymore, like it did yesterday morning.

The bliss Sam’s feeling does hit a slight halt, though, when he opens the freezer to his two not yet eaten cakes. Steve.

It’s suddenly like his brain’s going in hyperspeed again, and the thoughts of the blond man echoes in him from the day before. And fuck . That ‘in love with two people at the same time’ thing? It might be true. At least, he feels it glaring at the back of his neck, begging him to not ignore it.

Maybe his birthday was a little, uh, complicated after all. Still sort of is. Sam can’t stop thinking of the brunette’s breath on his lips and fingers caressing his thigh, but he certainly cannot stop thinking of his best friend’s hopeful eyes as he gave him that cake either, the offended look when he told him he didn’t have to, as if not getting him a birthday present was equal to a criminal offense for the blond.

Just as he thought he had something worked out in the middle of this mess, his two friends are haunting his mind. Dammit.

Sam’s unsure if he should talk to Steve about it, if he should tell him and Natasha about the kiss or not, but coincidentally, the blonde woman decides to do a pit stop. Eerily similar to his friend yesterday, she doesn’t really tell them much about where she’s going, but promises she’ll be back in less than two hours. What the hell, they’re hidden in the thick woods, might as well go for a walk and attempt to clear his head when the opportunity hits.

Bucky brushes his hand with his own as they exit the ship, but the man also rushes to the nearest town (Sam’s got a feeling he’s looking for a bookstore) and so that leaves him with the blond himself.

Steve’s looking with the greatest interest at a squirrel collecting its food when he smiles at him, “Wanna join me for a walk?”

His friend looks up with a smile as big as the sun, nodding, “Sure.”

On the walk, they’re getting creative, let’s say. There’s lots of hiking paths in here, not many people, but they remember caps and sunglasses just to be on the safe side. Generally trying to steer in circles around the paths, circulating the ship, not getting farther away than necessary.

Steve whistles to himself, American Pie , Sam recognizes it from Natasha in an instant. And well, that takes him back to his friend humming to Marvin Gaye just yesterday evening, while Bucky kissed him.

They both gave him the same cake. Wait, wait- why is Sam only thinking about that, really, now? Did they plan it?

Doesn’t seem like it, though, considering they both were rather secretive about it. So they didn’t talk at all about it, and it was just an odd coincidence? He knows now that Steve didn’t have to tell Bucky it was his birthday, because the man remembered from that very first visit, and that still makes Sam a little breathless, to be honest.

But this prompts him to voice his thought stream out loud, “Steve?”

“Hm?”

Their arms brush as they walk, comfortingly close, but still… too far away. Perfect distance for friends, he thinks. But… his heart is obviously telling him otherwise. He can almost feel it getting ready for another marathon.

“The cake you got me,” Sam hopes he isn’t stumbling over his words, recalling Sarah’s reassuring statement within his mind. You’re worth that risk , “Did you and Bucky plan it together?”

He didn’t have much of an idea on how to ask otherwise, but he regrets the question when the blond’s face screws up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His suspicion was correct, it seems. Coincidence. “Uhm, well… I mean, why didn’t you guys just get me one cake together? I love them both, don’t get me wrong, two cakes is way more than I could ask for in our situation-”

“Buck got you cake, too?”

Steve looks rather shocked. He isn’t frowning, per say, but his brows are furrowed as he tries to process the information, and he slows his pace down until he comes to a full stop, back near the ship. Oh god, did Sam just do something very stupid?

“He did,” he replies, smiling hesitantly still, and his friend automatically smiles back, which makes it easier for him to carry on, “I- sorry. I found it strange that you both got me one and thought you must’ve talked about it. But Bucky didn’t say anything about yours either, so I mean…”

Once again, Sam feels his words falter. He also definitely knows he’s blushing again, hard, cause the warmth is rushing through, but the nerves are getting to him, too.

“I’m glad he bought you one, too,” his best friend decides, his face so earnest and honest and kind, it makes him want to scream, “You deserve more than one. And so much more. I wish we could’ve celebrated properly. I know you want to go home, and I still want to meet your sister, you know.”

He sighs heavily, and Sam truly can’t hide his fondness.

“I think she’d love you,” he tells Steve, because he knows it’s true. Then, he’s unsure if he should continue the sentence. Sam’s thinking of Bucky and his stupidly perfect hair. Then he looks at Steve and his calloused hands, and the words hit him like a train before he can stop it coming out of his mouth, “Not as much as I do, maybe.”

There it is. There wasn’t really much denying, was there?

Sam can practically already feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, and the butterflies down in his gut are bashing in the rush of adrenaline and fluttering their wings way, way too fast for him to keep up.

His best friend kicks around a couple of pinecones on the ground before the statement hits him, then, he looks up again, wide-eyed and in an endearing state of total confusion.

“You… you love me?” Steve asks, bafflement evident in his tone.

Sam bites his lip. “Can I ask you something? Will you be honest with me?”

His friend nods immediately, confusion vanishing for a moment, “Always, Sam.”

He needs to take another deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Do you… do you think it’s possible to be in love with two people- or, more than one person? At the same time?”

To Sam’s greatest surprise both yesterday and today, the man in front of him takes barely a second to respond, no time to think it through, no signs of doubt, “Of course. I love Bucky, but I loved Peggy, too. I love Sharon. And I love you.”

Steve seems incredibly shocked at his own confession, just as much as Sam’s himself. Those butterflies must be on a fucking rollercoaster or something, at this point.

Strangely, this lifts the nerves within him so easily, just like yesterday. His breath still feels stuck in his throat, but holy shit, he just can’t stop himself from smiling. His cheeks must be burning hot.

The blond looks a bit confused again as Sam chuckles at himself. He has no idea what he’s doing right now, but the direction it’s going- once again, it just seems right. Feels right. He wants to reach out for his best friend’s hand, but waits, “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I just realised- well, I think I might’ve been in love with both of you for a while, but not realised it until yesterday. You and Bucky.”

Steve’s eyes are shimmering with hope, and so he decides to hell with it, he takes his friend’s hand. And to his precious luck, the blond squeezes his hand back, thumb tracing slow circles in his palm.

“You’re serious?” the blond asks, laughing in disbelief.

“I am.”

“ Holy shit. ”

Sam matches his friend’s laugh, and the forest almost bends to their conversation, wind softening and the trees surrounding them like a cocoon, almost. Reminds him of those fairytales his little sister loved so much, that she insisted on him reading for her because he liked making weird voices and changing the tale, much to her annoyance.

The silence between them is the most lovely thing, just like the one between him and Bucky yesterday, full of expectation but zero tension.

Steve clears his throat, “Sammy, I- sorry, you're just the best person I know, this is too good to be true. I didn’t know if you felt the same… I’m not good at that. Uhm, hinting. Or flirting, I guess. I don’t know what to say.”

His best friend is blushing as much as himself. Naturally, there’s only one thing Sam can think about, “Then come here and kiss me.”

The blond doesn’t need to be told twice, and he loves him even more for it. And Steve’s lips are softer than Bucky’s, but that’s in no way… better, or, like. It’s different. But it’s the same fireworks popping up in the dark under his eyelids again, and that’s a sign.

He’s in love with his two best friends. And they love Sam back. And his racing heart hums softly, like it’s breathing out as much as he is, a calm from all the way back home settling upon him. His friend hums against his lips and moves his hand to the hair at the nape of his neck, gently pulling. It gives him a sort of tingling feeling in all his limbs, to be honest.

They do have to pull apart when the sound of twigs crackling on the ground is heard, they have to stay alert, after all, even it could very well be another squirrel. Instead, it’s Bucky, carrying a book under his arm.

He’s giving them that sly smile again, “You’ve gotten smoother than the old days, Rogers.”

Steve blushes profusely. Sam finds himself laughing again, his nerves long gone, and touches his cheek. His friend clears his throat a little more, “You got the same idea as me, Buck. With the cake.”

The brunette joins them in the clearing, lifting a brow in question, “You mean my idea?”

“Shut up!”

“No, no, you learned from me punk, I’m proud of you,” Bucky laughs, and Steve’s about to slap his arm, if their friend didn’t grab the blond’s hand mid-air, “You’re an asshole.”

Bucky looks at Sam in question, and he answers, “He’s not completely wrong.”

His friend shrugs. “You both love me, though.”

“I do,” he nods, and Steve chimes in with, “Sadly, yes.”

Of course, their companion grins like an idiot, “Now we got that settled, will you kiss me again, Sammy?”

Sam is so fucking lovestruck right now, he’s not scared to admit it. Steve’s hand is still on his neck and Bucky’s taking his hand, and it’s nothing less than perfect. Just like a happily ever after, although he has no idea where they’re going after this, but it only matters to him that they’re together, really. He thinks Sarah will love both of them. He hopes they’ll meet someday, at least. And AJ and Cass, they’d be thrilled, oh my god.

The blond interrupts as Sam’s already leaning in, “Hey! I want a second kiss too!”

He rolls his eyes fondly, “Of course, Stevie.”

Well, it’s almost perfect, until a fourth voice makes them all jump, “You lovebirds need a minute before we take off?”

Nat’s smirking, Steve looks embarrassed and Sam laughs, his air mixed with his two companions and the butterflies’ flutter making him warm and tingly, still. Bucky flips her off. Guess some things never change.

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prince-of-elsinore · 4 years

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Yet another Headcanon Prompt for @decadent-prince from this ask! I think this is the longest one yet, lol. It was a tough one (Dean and guilt... too many options to choose from 😭) but turned out to be the perfect excuse to write a little something that's been floating around my head for a while. Thank you!!

Dean - 35. Guilt

It takes them a while to settle after defeating Chuck and saying goodbye to Jack. A while to realize, fully, that there’s no apocalypse looming on the horizon. A while for it to seep into their bones, unwind the tension in their muscles—tension that’s been there since Dad disappeared and Sammy started having visions all those years ago. Dean doesn’t understand at first why he feels so unmoored, floating through easy days of long drives or just lounging around the bunker, bracing for an impact that never comes. Then he realizes that, of course, that’s freedom.

With freedom comes questions. The halcyon days of extended vacation time morph into a new routine. They adopt Miracle, pick up hunts here and there as they come across their radar. Sam seems happy enough, but still Dean is uneasy. He’s certain by now that no cosmic being is coming for them or for the world, so why does he feel like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop?

It occurs to him one morning as he’s sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a piece of toast and watching Sam’s back as his brother makes him eggs, like he does every morning. What if Sam wants more than this? The toast in his stomach turns leaden.

Dean broaches the topic when Sam’s seated across from him, digging into his breakfast. He doesn’t notice that Dean’s not touching his eggs.

“You, uh, think about going back to school?” Dean asks, nonchalant.

Sam stares at him too long. Dean has to meet his eyes.

“Dean? What’s this about?”

Shit, now Sam’s all concerned, and that’s not how Dean wanted this to go.

He shrugs. “Just wonderin’. I mean, you could now, right?”

Sam toys with his fork. “Yeah… technically. I mean, there are a lot of options for online degrees these days.”

Dean’s brain stutters. “Online?”

Sam looks at him like he’s slow. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t exactly see us packing up and moving across the country somewhere just so I can be on campus, do you?”

Us. Gratitude swells through Dean like a rising tide. That other shoe he’s been waiting for disappears from his mind.

He nods, looks down at his toast because he can’t trust what will happen to his face if he keeps looking in Sam’s eyes right now. “Yeah, no, you’re right.”

They go back to eating. But Dean can’t help but push.

“Maybe you should think about it,” he says.

“Dean, I don’t even know what I’d study.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’. You should think about it.”

“Why?” Sam sounds exasperated.

Dean meets his eyes again. “Y’know. So you have a fallback. Just in case.”

Now Sam looks confused. “A fallback from hunting? In case of what—”

Sam’s expression hardens in an instant as he realizes what Dean is saying. “We’re not talking about that,” he says quietly, and returns to shoveling eggs into his mouth as if that will end the conversation once and for all.

“Maybe we ought to,” Dean presses.

“What if it were me?” Sam asks to his plate.

“What?”

“Say next hunt we go on, I die. What would you do, Dean?”

Dean goes stiff. His jaw clenches, ever fiber of his being radiating one answer: no.

Sam glances at him. “That’s what I thought.”

Dean lets it go. He finishes his breakfast, but the food curdles in his stomach. This is on him, he knows. He’s the one who can’t give up hunting. It would be easy for Sam, but not for him. He’s subjecting his brother to this, the constant worry they both push down, that they could lose the other. Hell, he might even get Sam killed, because Dean knows as long as he’s hunting Sam won’t let him do it alone. Dean would never forgive himself.

He thinks about mentioning an early retirement. He thinks about arbitrary numbers. One hundred more hunts. Five more years. Retire when I hit fifty. He knows, though, that it would just be lip service. He can’t stand to break another promise to his brother, so he doesn’t make one.

***

Months later, they’re on their way back from a hunt in Oregon. They’re only a couple hours out from the bunker, but it’s a beautiful, clear night and they’re miles from any town, so they pull over in a field and lie back on the Impala’s hood to watch the stars.

To Dean’s surprise, it’s Sam who broaches the topic.

“I used to want to get you out, you know.”

Dean doesn’t know. He’s a little lost, honestly.

“What?”

“Back at Stanford. I thought I’d become this rich, hotshot lawyer, and I’d get you out. Buy you a house, set you up with a job. Or, y’know, maybe no job, if you had too much of a record. But I’d make enough for the both of us.”

Dean feels just like he did when the vengeful spirit back in Oregon tossed him against a bookshelf. He doesn’t know what to say, because what the hell is he supposed to do with that?

It touches Dean in ways he didn’t realize were still possible. Probes at wounds he’s long since forgotten, but not in a hurtful way, exactly. Like peroxide on a cut, fizzing so you can’t ignore it, but promising healing. Even after all these years, Sam can still surprise him.

Sam continues, “Didn’t quite turn out that way, huh?” He huffs out a self-deprecating chuckle. “But that’s okay,” he says softly. He seems to struggle with himself for a moment, like he’s searching for the right words, and finally settles on, “I have what I want.”

Dean’s eyes are on the stars above them, but he barely sees them. All his focus is on Sam, his warmth, the sound of his breath, inches away where they’re leaned back on the windshield.

Dean can hear what Sam’s really saying. What he doesn’t need to put in words. I want a life with you. Dean is far too aware of how much Sam has given up to have that. His ribs ache with the knowledge, it’s so heavy.

There are a million things Dean wants to say. You deserve more. I would give you more if I could, if I had anything to offer.

Instead he says, quietly, “I don’t know how to do anything else.” It’s an apology more than an excuse.

“I know,” says Sam. “It’s okay.”

They’re silent after that. Sam meant what he said. He is okay with it, with this life. As long as Dean’s by his side. Dean’s putting them both in danger, every day they continue like this, but Sam’s willing to take that risk with him. Maybe, a long time ago, there was hope for them, of a different life, a safer life, but that time is long since passed. And Dean takes pride in what he does, in every life saved. He doesn’t know who he’d be without it, and at this point, he doesn’t care to find out.

Still, for his brother’s sake, he wishes it could be different. Sam doesn’t just deserve one thing he wants—Dean, amazingly, improbably—he deserves everything he wants. Sam has sacrificed so much, and Dean loves him so much—does Sam even know how much?—and Dean wants to give it all to Sam, everything he wants and deserves. But he can’t. He can’t change who he is for his brother, but he wishes more than anything that he could.

#spn headcanons #post 15x19 #spn ficlet #winchester brothers #dean winchester #ask meme #my ficlet #spn #musings

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chemist-ana · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10- The Company Picnic— Sams POV

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Robin, Mickey and Mason, Sofia, Mason Sr., Vivian,

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations

A/N This is a brand new series that I was inspired to write. I am going to go chapter by chapter in Sam Daltons POV. This story is completely inspired by Choices The Nanny Affair. I have used most of the dialogue from the actual story, anything written in BOLD was taken directly from the book and therefore is not my writing- credit to our good friends over at Pixelberry! All characters are credit to Pixelberry except for my OCs

Summary: When you let your guard down at the company picnic, will you be ambushed by friendly fire?

Word Count: 4740

Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @somersetmummy @melalicious8383

Robin stood there, his eyes flicking between Ana and I with a knowing look.

Fuck.

I run my hands through my hair, trying to gather my bearings.

“Robin, what are you doing here? And why is Sofia calling you?” Wait, why is Sofia calling him… I have my cell on me…

“She was looking for you. Do I even want to know what you two were up to?” His eyes narrow at me.

“We were just working!” Ana says breathlessly. Not exactly the perfect cover, Ana.

“You know you don’t actually work here, right Ana?” Robin crosses his arms and widens his stance, his frown deepening.

“Sam was showing me the prototypes. That count as work…” Her voice has grown quiet.

“We don’t need to explain ourselves to you, Robin. Did you finish the press release for the Milan breach?” My anger evident in my tone.

“I’ve been a little busy, but apparently I’m not the only one.”

Fucking drop it Rob.

“Enough. If you have something to say, say it. If not, then get back to work.” My eyes narrow at him in challenge. I watch as he turns on his heel to leave the lab, pausing briefly at the door and looking over his shoulder.

“I almost forgot. Sofia had a message for you, Ana. She said since you were doing this office tour today, you should come to the company picnic this weekend.”

“Really? I thought she wanted me fired.” Her eyes grow wide as she looks between Robin and I.

“It’s probably a ‘keep your enemies closer’ type of thing. She already told Mom and Dad about the invite, so they’re expecting you to be there.”

I clench my jaw, fighting back my ever increasing desire to punch that look off of his face. God I have been wanting to do that to him a lot recently... I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose when I hear the door close to the lab, leaving Ana and I alone again.

The silence is palpable as I look at her, she is looking down as her fingers twist together.

“Ana, are you okay?”

“Sam, we have to be more careful. We’re lucky Robin was the one who walked in on us. It could’ve been much worse.” Her voice quiet as she continues to watch her hands.

“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” I don’t know how lucky we are that it was Robin… “You don’t have to come to the picnic, you know.”

Her emerald eyes lift to mine as she studies my face for a moment.

“If you… think it’s best I don’t-“ She takes a step away from me, looking back down at her hands. I reach out and gently place my hand on her arm.

“That’s not what I meant. I want you there. Against my better instincts… I always want you wherever I am.” Close to me.

Those words get her attention as she slowly rises her eyes to mine. I hear her breath catch and it sends a reminder of the passion that we just shared only moments before.

“Okay then, I’ll be there.” She gives me a small smile.

I return her smile as our eyes linger for a moment before my mind wanders to a less important question... Why was Sofia on the phone with Robin? I reach into my pocket and check my phone, no missed calls or texts. Weird…

I spend the rest of the day thinking of Ana, spread out before me on the lab table, the sound of pleasure that escaped her lips, and the sweet taste of her arousal on mine.

***

I wake up early the next morning, as I walk quietly into the kitchen, I pause outside of the door to Ana’s room. God how I want to just bring you into my bed and get lost in you… I shake my head, fuck these thoughts need to disappear… I need to escape while everyone is still asleep. I write a quick note and leave it on the counter- Went into the office early- will be home early to take the boys out for a treat. -Sam. Good enough.

I run my hands through my hair as I ride the elevator down to the lobby, Carter is waiting at the curb, always ready.

When I enter into my office the sun is just breaking above the skyline. The building is eerily quiet as I sit down in my chair, turning my attention to the waking of the city as the sunlight casts its morning shadows.

Suddenly I hear the door to my office open.

“How did I know you would be here already?” I close my eyes. Robin.

I hear him sit down in the leather chair on the other side of my desk and I turn my chair to face him, a smug look on his face.

“Sammy, what in the actual fuck is going on with you and Ana?”

I take a sharp inhale, “First of all, there is nothing going on between us. Second of all, even if there was, it would be none of your fucking business.”

“You are really going to lie to me? What I walked in on yesterday didn’t look like ‘nothing’.”

“Yeah, well, you know what happens when people make assumptions.”

“Sam, I thought by now you would understand that there are consequences to your actions.”

“Robin, save the kingly speech for someone who gives a damn. There is nothing going on between us.”

“You’re going to hurt her, and when all the chips fall, she is going to have nothing, and you are still going to have everything.”

I stare at him for a moment, biting the inside of my cheek.

“Why were you on the phone with Sofia?”

“I told you Sam, she was trying to find you.” He points a finger at me, before he shakes his head and stands up. “You better figure your shit out.”

Without another word he turns around and strides out of my office.

It’s going to be a long day.

***

I bring a glass of water to my lips for a sip as I type out a few quick texts, and alert Carter to be ready with the car in five minutes. Now where are the boys?

I make my way down the hall, and knock softly on Ana’s partially open door.

“Ana, have you seen the boys-“

“Dad, look! Ana’s wearing the outfit we picked out!” Mason pushes the glasses up his nose with a smile.

“Oh, wow. You look… nice.” My eyes flash as they run down the exposed skin of her delicate neck and her long legs. I swallow down a surge of desire.

“Just nice?” She asks with a coy smile.

I glance over at the twins who are now lost in a conversation between themselves before I lean in and the smell of jasmine fills my senses.

“Definitely not ‘just nice’, but I’m trying to be good.” My eyes flick to the twins.

“I think I like you better when you let yourself be bad.” Her emerald eyes darken and a memory flashes in my mind of the soft whimpers that escape her lips when I touch her.

I clear my throat, breaking myself of my trance as I stand up and look to the twins.

“Right. Is everyone ready to go in here?”

“I am!” Mason cheers running out of the door.

“Wait, I forgot my socks!” Mickey calls as he follows close behind.

My eyes linger on Ana before I reluctantly turn away.

***

Ana and I walk side by side down the large path in Central Park, the boys follow close behind.

“What’s the problem, you two? You don’t like picnics?” We stop and turn towards the boys who are kicking at the rocks on the pavement.

“Normal picnics, yeah. But who knows what Aunt Sofia has done to this one?” Mickey whines as he drags his feet.

“Boys, I promise you, Aunt Sofia didn’t have any part in planning this picnic.” I fight back the urge to laugh.

“But, we still have to follow her rules, don’t we?” Mason looks at Ana with a pleading look.

“You can still have fun too.” She gives him an encouraging smile. “Besides, there’ll be so much going on, I bet she won’t even notice if you sneak an ice cream cone. Assuming your dad says it’s okay, of course.”

“Really?” Mickey breaks out into a big grin.

“Sure. But just the one treat. We don’t want you to get a sugar overload.”

That seems to get them moving, because they run ahead. Ana and I share a look before we continue walking.

“It’s beautiful… I can see our building from here!” Mason shouts as we round the corner and the field comes into view.

My eyes meet Sofia’s as she starts walking towards us.

“Sam, you’ve got to see this. It’s accounting versus legal on the badminton court!” Her eyes are bright, you are unusually cheery today. Than her gaze falls on Ana, and I see a flash of something in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can tell what it is.

“Well, don’t you look adorable. You always know how to turn it on when it matters most, don’t you?” I resist the urge to close my eyes and sigh. Adorable, really Sofia?

“I try.” Ana gives her a confident smile.

“Can you also try to keep the boys from getting too dirty or being too loud or eating any sugar or running near the adults? Sam and I will be right back.” Sofia grabs my arm and leads me towards the badminton courts. I glance back at Ana who is herding the boys in the opposite direction.

“I am glad she decided to come today.” Sofia squeezes my arm. “Robin mentioned she had some hesitation.” My stomach sinks as I think about Robin… did he say anything to her?

“Yeah, so legal vs accounting huh?” I say effectively changing the topic.

***

After laughing a little too hard watching the accounting team get slaughtered by legal, I hear my dad’s voice calling over a megaphone.

“Welcome to the Annual Dalton Enterprises Company Picnic! I hope you’re ready for some good old-fashioned fun! We’ve got everything from giant Jenga to croquet to kickball.. But the highlight of the afternoon will be starting in five minutes… tug-of-war!” I hear a few good natured cheers and my eyes scan the field for Ana.

I see her talking to Robin, her brow furrowed.

“It’s Complex A versus Complex B! If you’re not an employee, pick a side.” My dad drops the megaphone and my eyes are still locked on Ana and Robin as I make my way across the field.

I don’t realize Sofia is behind me until I walk up on Ana and Robin and she is the first one to speak.

“Are you sitting out too, Ana? This game is so filthy and juvenile, I always sunbathe through it.” Sofia looks down at her manicured fingers and walks to the sidelines.

“Ana! You have to be on our team!” Mason shouts as him and Mason jog up to us.

“Yeah! Together we’ll be unstoppable!” Mickey chimes in as he gives Ana a smile. Ana’s eyes look between the boys then rise up to mine.

“We could use the extra hands…” I tell her.

“If Ana doesn’t want to play, she doesn’t have to play.” Robin’s eyes narrow at me.

I bite the urge to call Robin a petulant child.

“I can’t resist a good competition. I’m in!” She flashes a cocky smile at Robin.

“Yeah! Suck it, Uncle Robin!” Mickey jumps in the air and sticks his tongue out at Robin.

“Mickey…”

“I mean… you’re going down?” His eyes widen.

“We’ll see, kiddo.” Robins eyes soften as he looks down at Mickey, but harden immediately when he looks back at me. “At least we don’t have any distractions on our team.”

“Bring it on.” Ana turns on her heel and we walk towards our side of the rope.

We huddle together with the rest of the people on our team.

“First thing’s first, we need a team name!” Mason takes charge. That’s my boy.

“What about winners?” Ana says.

“Yeah, go winners!” Mason and the rest of the team cheers.

“Enough conferring! It’s time to play!” My dad’s voice booms over the megaphone.

We all line up as my mother explains the rules.

“Boys up front. Ana, you can stand by me.” I give Ana a smile as she stands directly in front of me.

I see Robin glaring daggers at Ana from the opposite side of the rope. My eyes dart back to Ana as I catch her sticking her tongue out at him. What were those two talking about earlier?

“Is that your method of long-distance trash talk?”

“It’s working, isn’t it? Robin’s head isn’t in the game, which means we’ve got this in the bag.” She gives me a confident smile.

“Let’s put that theory to theory to the test.” I give her a smile before she turns around, wrapping her hands around the rope.

My dad starts the pulling match and I lean back, digging in with my heels as the rope goes taught.

“You’’ll have to do better than that!” Ana shouts. You’re a competitive little thing aren’t you.

The boys are urging everyone to pull. I wrap my fingers tighter around the rope and heave and it seems to work, because the other side starts to give.

“That’s it, winners! We’ve got ‘em on the ropes!” I shout.

My eyes are locked on the muscles that are tense on Ana’s back.

“Almost… there!” Her voice rings out.

“We can’t… let them win… look at them!” Robin’s face is angry as he pulls. “Though I guess Ana does have some experience playing dirty.”

My eyes fly to Robin, but his gaze is focused on Ana. She ignores him and continues to pull, until we pull the marker onto our side. The momentum of her pulling causes her to stagger back… and right into my arms.

The smell of jasmine and Ana rush my senses as I squeeze my arms tightly around her, to steady her or hold her close I don’t know anymore. She looks over her shoulder and her emerald eyes meet mine, and for a moment the world fades away.

“…Hi.” A blush creeps up her neck as our eyes linger.

“Hi.” I smile.

Her eyes dart down to my lips as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes growing dark. I slide my tongue across my lip and I feel her body tense.

“Sam…” She whispers and the sound sends a shockwave through my body.

“Ana, I-“ Fuck, you are in public, and Sofia is here.

“And the winner is- Team Winners!” My dad’s voice booming over the megaphone breaks me from my trance.

“We did it!” Mason and Mickey jump around excitedly. I drop my arms from Ana just in time for Mason and Mickey to tackle me in a hug. My eyes never leave Ana as they wrap their arms around me.

“You did it, boys!” I finally break my gaze to ruffle the twins hair as they cheer.

“We did it, Dad!” Mason looks up at me with a grin.

“Yeah, we couldn’t have beat Uncle Robin without you and Ana!” Mickey looks over to Ana.

“And we couldn’t have done it without you two.” She reaches out and ruffles Mickey’s hair.

God, this just feels so right.

“That’s one way to put it.” Robin. Moment fucking broken.

My eyes fly up to Robin’s who has his eyes narrowed at Ana. I am about to snap when my mother walks up besides us.

“Nobody like a sore loser, Robin. Be a good example for your nephews.”

“Samuel, my big, strong man! I’ve got a wet wipe and a fresh shirt with your name on it.” Sofia walks up and wraps an arm through mine, and pulls me away from the group. I look down at her as she leads towards a tent, her eyes focused.

***

I stand silently next to my father as we watch everyone start to leave.

“I would call that a success.” He glances over at me.

“I would say so. You and mom should go, let me handle the clean up.” I clap him on the back as my mother walks up to us.

“Are you ready to go Mason, dear?”

“Yes, Viv.” He extends his arm for her to take before turning to me one last time. “Well done today, Sam.”

“Bye, Samuel.” My mother brushes a kiss to my cheek before I watch her and my father walk towards the edge of the park.

With a sigh I grab a few trash bags and begin walking around, picking up loose plates. My eyes fall on Ana and the boys and I make my way over to them.

“I’ll take those.” I hold open the trash bag for Ana and the boys to drop their used plates and napkins in. Ana and I fall into step next to each other as we follow the boys to the edge of the park.

“So, did you have a good time today?” I glance down at her and the sun has left a beautiful glow on her olive skin.

“Well, I missed you.” She says softly, turning her beautiful face towards mine. “I feel like I barely got to see you all day after tug-of-war. But this moment right here, with you? It’s been the best part of my day.”

“The party planning committee will be disappointed to hear it… but it’s my favorite too.” I chuckle, my eyes lingering on hers as I watch the sun reflect off of the little specs of gold amongst the emerald green.

As we round the corner I see Carter waiting at the curb, Robin and Sofia already there besides the car. Why are they always together…?

“Looks like the ride home will be a little crowded tonight.” Ana murmurs.

“Good thing I can get out of it for once, I always stay behind and help the cleaning crew after the picnic. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation for everything.” I look down at her as our arms brush.

“No ones too good to clean up their own mess, right Dad?” Mason asks as he kicks a rock on the pavement.

“That’s exactly right, little man.” Damn proud.

“But we don’t have to stay… right?” Mickey’s eyes grow wide.

“Not until you’re a little older.” I smile at the look of relief on his face.

The boys climb into the car and I catch Sofia’s eye.

“Yes, honey, very inspiring. See you at home.” She leans in and brushes a kiss against my cheek then follows the boys into the car.

“Ana, are you coming?” Robin asks as his eyes scan Ana’s body.

Ana looks up at me with a question in her eyes.

“You’re welcome to stay and help, if you want. It won’t take long between us and the crew. We usually divide and conquer to cover more ground.” Please stay…

“Sounds like a great way to help out this afternoon.” She meets my eyes with a warm smile, her eyes not hiding her true intentions.

“Sure. Just… remember what I said.” Robin regards Ana with a firm look, before shifting his focus to me, and finally climbing into the backseat of the car.

Ana and I turn around and head back to the picnic area, our arms brushing lightly as we walk in a companionable silence.

“Have you ever been to a big picnic like this before?” The breeze blows through her hair as she looks up at me.

“I have never been to one before. Neither of my parents ever had a company picnic, so this was a first.”

“And? What’s the verdict?”

“I’ll let you know when I have one.” She gives me a coy smile before turning her attention back to the park.

I hand her a trash bag and she begins picking up stacks of paper plates.

“I bet you’ve been to a million of these over the years.”

“You could say that. I was still a kid when we held the first one, but it looked nothing like this. We could practically all fit on one blanket back then.” I smile at the fond memories… we have come a long way since then.

“It’s hard to imagine the company being that small.”

“Yeah, we’ve definitely grown a lot since then. But as much as I sometimes miss how… simple things were back then, we also couldn’t make as big of a difference. We can help so many more people now that we’re bigger.”

“I bet that feels good.”

“It does. And it definitely makes the hard days a little easier.”

“Speaking of, I can’t believe you’re not soaking in a bubble bath right now. You were at the center of all of the activity today.” She glances at me. I want to be in a bubble bath with you.

We bend down to pick up a red solo cup at the same time, our fingers brushing, and a blush spreading across her cheeks as her eyes snap away from mine.

“Sorry.” She says quickly.

“No worries.” I smile at her, but I can sense a change in her mood. “I am pretty tired, but it’s a Dalton family tradition to stay behind with the workers and, well, work. My father always stayed behind, but now that he’s older, the mantle falls on me.”

“You know, Robin mentioned one time that he’s also being considered for CEO… but I can’t really picture him staying behind, even if it’s part of the job description.” What else has Robin told you about my family? Yeah, well, if there is anything I know about Robin is that he does the bare minimum.

“Yeah, well, he probably wouldn’t have to, even if he were CEO. My dad has always held Robin to different standards than me. But at this point, that would only happen if I really, really, messed up.”

She glances around and when I follow her eyes, I realize we are all alone on this side of the park.

“Taking responsibility has never been Robin’s strong suit. Great at making messes though.” I flash her a smile but she seems to be avoiding my gaze. “You’re being awfully quiet over there.”

“Hmm? Oh, I just… have a lot on my mind.” She replies without looking at me. There is definitely something wrong… and fuck I hope it doesn’t have to do with Robin. “Actually, Sam… there’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” Her lips turn down in a frown. Definitely Robin.

“What did Robin do now?”

“Earlier today, he pulled me aside and demanded that I leave you alone…” I stare into her eyes, trying to read the expression on her face.

“What did you say?” Please tell me you didn’t tell him anything…

“I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about… but I don’t think he believed me.”

I let out a deep breath and reach up to rub the knots in my neck. Fuck…

“I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this position, Ana. You shouldn’t have to deal with my brother confronting you like this.” What are you doing to her?

I reach out and cup her cheek and I can see the pain in her eyes.

“Robin seemed pretty sure that at the en dog all of this… I would be the one who ends up hurt.” Fuck Robin, stay out of my business.

“As much as I hate to say it- and as much as I will do everything in my power to prevent it- he’s probably right.” I cringe as the words come out of my mouth. “But Ana, my parents’ expectations, the company politics, Sofia… it all just fades away when I look at you.”

“Sam…” My name rolls off her lips in a whisper.

In that instant, the sprinklers turn on, sending a jetting stream of water onto both of us.

She cries out and leans into me as I wrap my arms around her, trying my best to shield her from the water.

“Okay, seriously, who sets their sprinklers to go off in the middle of the afternoon.” I laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, even though I can’t complain having Ana in my arms.

“Someone who got AM and PM mixed up?” She laughs and the sound brings an even bigger smile to my face.

I lean away from her slightly, my eyes roaming her face as I smooth the hair from her face. She is so beautiful…

“You look beautiful like this… I’ve never seen you wet before.”

“You don’t know that.”

Her words send a shockwave to my cock. I definitely didn’t mean it like that, but fuck am I glad you did.

“That’s not fair. Now that’s all I can think about…” You, wet, in my arms, in our home, in the car… fuck…

“Sam, now you know how I feel.”

“Does this mean you think about me all the time? At night, in bed, alone…?” My voice has dropped to a husky whisper as images of her on her back, naked, and moaning fill my head.

“Yes… touching myself, thinking of you, wondering if you’re turned on because of me.” The huskiness of her voice matches mine as her eyes wander my face and linger on my lips.

Holy fuck, you naughty little thing.

“Always…” I tighten my grip on her waste as her breath catches in her throat.

“Sam… kiss me.”

I was hoping you would say that.

I lean down and capture her perfect pink lips in mine, my hands roam her every curve, trying my hardest to memorize the twists and turns. Our kiss grows in passion as she lets out a moan into my mouth.

I grab her hips, pulling her against my growing desire.

“Ana… what are you doing to me?” I whisper against her mouth… I have never been so out of control in my life as I am when I am around you…

I drop my lips to her jaw, trailing light kisses up to her ear, the smell of Ana, sunshine and jasmine, fills my senses as I taste her sweet skin.

“I can’t seem to control myself around you…” I whisper into her ear.

“Maybe I want you to lose control…” She whispers, her lips lightly grazing mine.

She tangles her fingers into my hair and drags my lips back to hers. I want to lose control with you… My fingers continue their exploration as I graze my fingers over her erect nipples through her shirt, god this wet shirt is doing wonders for you…

“I want nothing more than to lay you down and take you right here, but…” I whisper in her ear as I blaze a trail of kisses down her neck, her body responding to my every touch with soft whimpers and gasps.

“We are still in public… and broad daylight.” Her breathing is erratic as I press my forehead to hers. I close my eyes, and listen to her erratic breathing and feel the rise and fall of her chest.

“Dammit.” I whisper. I lean in and press a soft, slow kiss to her lips before I pull away. My body instantly missing the contact. I grab one of her hands in mine and give it a light squeeze. “You’re going to be the death of me, Ana. Or at least, the death of my reputation.” I take a moment to check my surroundings, fortunately we are still alone.

“…You’re welcome?” Her soft laugh ringing through my ears.

“We should probably get back to cleaning, or we’ll never finish.”

“Oh, I’m desperate to finish, alright.” Her coy smile spreading across her lips.

I smile at her with a shake of my head, her lips red from our kisses and her skin flushed… so damn beautiful…

We make our way out of the line of fire of the sprinklers and continue working, well into the evening. My fingers moving in time with the rise and fall of her curves, remembering the sparks of electricity and the sound of her moans.

#choices the stories you play #the nanny affair #choices sam dalton #samdalton #mickey and mason

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your-1up-girl · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Dream (Hera x Ventus)

Uhhh....okay so this wasn't supposed to post until the 31st but I must have gotten the queue wrong soooooo. Have an early gift.! I dedicate this fic to the very lovely and absolutely gorgeous @sammilimyy! Why do you ask? Because it’s her birthday (I'm early sorry)!!! I was so inspired by your royal/fantasy AU with Hera and Ven that I just had to write a fanfic for it. Now this is basically inspired by a certain movie from a certain company that shall not be named out of fear they will take this down, but if you know the song then you know the movie. I hope you like it Sam (and I hope that I got it on time for your b-day) have a happy and wonderful birthday!

Word Count: 4339

Pairing: Hera (OC)/Ventus (Kingdom Heart)

Warnings: Nothing but pure fluff! I hope you have a good Dentist Sammi, cuz this thing is gonna give you cavities!!!

It was happening again. This dream she found herself in was coming to her with much more frequency now. Always in this dream, Hera would find herself wandering through a forest where the birds graced her ears with beautiful melodies and the way the light filtered through the trees was practically angelic. In this dream, she would always wear a tea-length dress so it would not drag against the soft grass and dirty the pristine fabric. Said dress was adorn in mute yellow skirt and bodice with pale pink trimming and a bow in the back. It flowed with grace as Hera continued barefoot down the unmade path. A path she has taken several times before.

At this point she would reach a clearing where the trees created a canopy of sorts and the brush and wildflowers bloomed and grew with no outside interference. Standing in the middle of this clearing was a figure. It always looked like the spirit of a young boy. Someone who Hera would guess was about her age but taller than her. He had spiky hair and clothes that looked different from that of what she had seen in the nearby villages of the kingdom. As he turned to face her, she could see the phantom of a smile on his face but never his actual features. Soft music would fill the air as they approached each other and they began to dance. The soft whips of his fingers held her waist as they twilered and glided across the grass. They could never speak to each other but they could laugh. And Hera thought his laugh was better than any orchestra in the world.

Despite never speaking to this boy and only sharing these dances, Hera had fallen for this mysterious stranger. It was a dream, but in her heart, it all felt completely real. This boy was out there. At this point, after they had their dance, the music would end and Hera would wake up to the knocks of her Lady in Waiting telling her to start the day; but this time was different. For just a brief moment, when Hera looked up and faced the spirit, she could see him. It was still in a ghost like form but his features were there and she took it all into memory. The bangs across his forehead, the goofy yet loving smile he wore, and most importantly the shadowy blue eyes that looked back at her. He had never appeared tangible to her once during these late night rendezvous but after seeing him in this apparariton form, Hera knew. She was completely in love.

Hera woke with a start in her bed. The sudden movement had scared her Meow Wow Polly and her friend Naminé who was drawing the curtains to let light enter the room.

“Your Grace, you’re awake.” The Lady in Waiting spoke once the initial shock faded. “I knocked on the door to wake you, but you didn’t respond. Then, when I came in, you had the most peaceful smile on your face that I didn’t want to wake you just yet.”

Hera held her heart as Naminé spoke, remembering the dream once more. “Did you have another dream about him?” Naminé sat on the bed next to the princess as Polly let out a small whine and cuddled back into her owner.

“Yes, I did. We danced like we always do. But this time,” Hera paused as her smile became more giddy, “This time I saw him, Naminé.”

Naminé wore a similar smile at this development, “Really! That’s wonderful Princess. What did he look like?” Hera adjusted herself on the bed so Naminé could begin taking her hair out of the braids she wore to bed.

“Well, he still looked like a ghost of sorts but his facial features were there and not just a blank face. He had the most beautiful blue eyes, Naminé.” A love-struck sigh left Hera’s lips, “It was like looking into the night sky itself.”

“You are absolutely smitten with this boy. Do you think he’s real?”

“Why else would he appear to me in this dream? And remember, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him.” Hera got out of bed and walked out onto the balcony. She leaned on the stone railing and gazed out into the horizon; her nightdress flowing in the early morning breeze. A sigh of doubt escaped her, “Naminé?”

Her Lady approached, “Yes Princess?”

“Answer me honestly, please. Do you think that boy is out there? Am I foolish to think that he could exist?”

Naminé’s eyes softened at her friend's sudden realization that this could all just be a dream. She held Hera close and spoke, “I think that in a world where magic exists and mythical creatures are a prominent part of our lives, having recurring dreams about a mysterious boy is calm by comparison.” This made Hera laugh, “I think he’s out there my Princess. If this truly is love that you feel, then you will both find your way to one another.”

After that, the day continued on as normal. Naminé helped Hera get dressed for the morning. Hera went to her lessons with Eraqus, the king. His lessons involved looking after the kingdom when she eventually came to rule. She had Keyblade training with Young Master Riku, Naminé would always remain close by during these lessons as the Lady in Waiting was very smitten with the Keyblade Master. And on this particular day, she ended her training with Master Aqua. The sworn protector of the Princess, Aqua specialized in magic and was well versed in wielding a Keyblade. She would teach Hera about combining magic into her basic attacks. However, Aqua took notice that Hera was not as focused as usual.

“Is there something bothering you Hera?”

“Huh? No Master Aqua, what makes you say that?” Their keyblades dissipated into the air signalling that they were done for the evening.

“It’s just that you haven’t been as focused as you should be during your lessons. And it’s not just with me, the King has noticed you’ve been more aloof with your teachings. Merlin has taken notice as well and so has Riku.” Hera hung her head in shame, should she tell Aqua about the dreams and the young boy? No, surely she would think the Princess crazy for looking into something like dreams. And falling in love with an apparition whom you don’t even know the name of would get her a lecture from the King. Hera couldn’t come up with a response quick enough but Aqua took the silence as something different. “You seem so worn out. Maybe you haven’t been getting enough sleep?”

At that, Hera’s head shot up, “Yes! Yes Master Aqua, that’s exactly it!” The sudden change in demeanor startled the blue haired Master from her train of thought. “I’m just so tired as of late Master Aqua. I think it would be best if I went off to bed now even. I had my dinner sometime before training so I’m not hungry.” Aqua blinked a few times. Hera seemed...excited to go to bed? It was an odd development in her attitude for sure but it seemed to be an improvement to what it was before so Aqua let it slide for now.

“Of course Your Grace, I’ll send for Naminé to meet you in your chambers to assist you for the night. Sweet dreams Princess Hera.” It was hard for the young girl to contain her excitement and Aqua could have sworn she heard a whispered, They will be as Hera passed.

Naminé carefully brushed Hera’s hair in the large bed of the royal chambers. Both girls wore their nightgowns and were discussing the events of the day. Polly sat comfortably in Hera’s lap, listening just as intently as if she were to join the conversation at any moment.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were paying extra attention to Master Riku’s lessons today.” Hera jested with her best friend; a smirk proudly displayed on her face.

“At least one of us was.”

“Hey! Naminé!” The Princess turned to push the blonde girl as they both laughed in the empty, fire lit room. “He likes you, you know.”

“Oh please, I’m just a maid, he wouldn't like me.”

Hera thought about this for a moment as Naminé worked an intricate updo into the Princess's hair for the night. She could tell her friend was discouraged by this separation of class so she tried to lighten the mood, “If he rejects you, I’ll have him beheaded.” Naminé nearly choked on her own saliva and snorted out a laugh. Having accomplished her mission in making her friend laugh, Hera joined as well.

“As kind as that is, please Hera, don’t kill anyone on my behalf.” Naminé was grateful for the joke and Hera enjoyed the lack of formalities with her best friend. The conversation continued in this matter but before Naminé got up for the night, Hera asked her a question.

“You want me to draw you a picture?”

“Yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask?” Naminé, not wanting to refuse her friend or the Princess, took a piece of parchment from the desk, some graphite, and a flat board to give her some stability and joined Hera back on the bed.

“Alright Hera, what is your request?”

“I want you to draw the boy from my dreams.” Big, pleading blue eyes met confused blue ones as Naminé took in what Hera asked.

“I-Your Grace-Hera, you know that I don’t know what he looks like, yes?”

“Oh, I know. That’s why, you’re going to sit next to me and I’m going to watch you draw as I describe him to you.” Hera grabbed the pillow next to her and made room for her friend and tapped the spot. A small smile adorned the Lady’s face as she made herself comfortable and ready for the long night ahead of her.

~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of the Kingdom, some yards away from the borders, a young farm boy sat upon the roof of his home looking at the horizon as the sky changed from warm tones to cool blues and the stars greeted him for the night. He came to look out into the sky when he needed to clear his head. And after having a busy day of training, fram work, and running errands, Ventus was in need of a small break. Not to mention that this moment alone gave him some time to think about the spirit girl he saw in his dreams. At first, Ventus just blew it off. Strange dreams happen all the time, take ‘em with a grain of salt. But then, she kept coming back, the same girl, in the same forest, with the same dress, and the same beautiful smile. God that smile. It was barely noticeable with the form that she took in his dreams but Ven was in love with it nonetheless.

He chuckled to himself. There I go again, Terra would have a fit if he could hear me. Falling in love with a forest spirit just because she danced with you in a recurring dream was ridiculous. Right? Ventus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, groaning when he had to pick more sticks out from when he fell herding the animals earlier. That girl made sleeping more exciting yet also somewhat frightening. Why did he see her all the time? Was she some sort of nymph? Was she even real? Would she love him back? And, why did he feel such disappointment if the answer was no? He didn’t even know this girl, and yet? Ventus put his hand over where his heart would be and gripped that part of his shirt. This girl had his heart and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Ven? Ventus? Where are you?” Terra stepped out of the house to call for the young boy. It made Ven laugh just a bit. No matter how many times Ventus escaped to this spot, Terra never thought to check there. “Come on Ven, you’ll never get to be a royal guard if you don’t get a good night’s sleep!”

“And you will never be a detective if you don’t think to check in the obvious spots for the suspect.” Terra turned to see that Ventus was in fact, on the roof. They both shared a laugh and Ven made his way down. “If you keep yelling then you’ll wake the Tama Sheep and the Electricorn.” They both made it back inside the house and Ventus sat with a warm tea Terra had made. The young blond sat and stared at the tea with a look that was both focused and unfocused all at once.

“Hey Terra, do you believe in love at first sight?”

The brunette sat across from the boy and pondered the question, “I think it’s possible. I think that if someone really is the one then you’ll just know.”

“Hmm.”

“You thinking about your dreams again?”

“Yeah. It’s always with the same girl. She comes to that forest, doesn’t say a single thing to me, just laughs, and we dance. They’re getting more frequent and-” Ventus paused a small smile creeping onto his face.

“And?” With raised eyebrows, Terra waited for a response.

“And...I saw her face.” Ven couldn’t hide the smile or blush at this point and Terra’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be his response. “It was all ghosty and weird like the rest of her but I could see her eyes and the way they had so much life to them. I saw her and I just fell for her, Terra. Even more than I already am in love with her.”

“Does she look like anyone you know? Maybe it’s someone from the marketplace?”

“No, her clothes look different from that of the marketplace or even from the nearby towns. I could be wrong but they kinda look like a type of nobility.”

“Wow, look at you; dreaming about a Duchess.” It never crossed either of their minds as they drank the tea that the mysterious girl could have been a princess. Terra listened more to Ven’s recounting of dreams as it got a bit later. An hour had passed and the tea was all gone and both boys sat at the table trying to figure out what to do about the spirit girl.

“I think you should go talk to a woman who goes by Fairy Godmother. No one knows her real name but she is really good at figuring out people’s dreams. She lives on the far side of Traverse Town near the kingdom borders.” Ven listened closely. “If anyone can help you out, it’s her.” It was discussed that Ventus would take one of the Yoggy Rams and travel there tomorrow morning.

By early morning light, Ventus did just that. It was a long ride but not too tedious. Around mid-afternoon Ventus arrived at Traverse Town and began asking for this Fairy Godmother. Some people lead him to the back of the town where, in the middle of a water well, there was a house that was similar to that of a doll’s but less childish. Ventus carefully walked over the rocks with his Yoggy Ram to the front door and gave it a pensive knock. He waited no more than a minute when a kind looking older woman answered the door. She smiled at him like she was his grandson and enveloped him into a hug.

“Oh hello young man, it’s good to see you. Please, please, come in. Let your Ram drink from the water around my house. I don’t mind. I just prepared some warm milk if you would like some.” Fairy Godmother brought him into the quaint living room and he lifted the milk to his lips taking a sip. It tasted faintly of vanilla and hazelnut; it made Ventus smile. “So,” Fairy Godmother sat across from him in her own plush chair, “How can I help you dear.”

“My friend told me that you could help me with my dreams?”

She lightly laughed and placed her tea cup down, “Yes, he is correct; dreams tend to be my specialty. Tell me everything my dear.” Ventus did just that. From the smiles, to the laughs, and all the joy he felt in between. When he finished, he sat anxiously for the answer. “Hmm, this sounds like a very special girl.”

“She is Fairy Godmother.”

“But you have never seen her before?”

He hung his head, “No I haven’t Fairy Godmother.”

“And yet you’re in love with her.” There was no malice in this question and she asked knowing exactly what his answer would be.

Ventus sighed, the milk long finished as he searched for his answer, “I-Fairy Godmother, I know it sounds crazy to love someone you have never met but, my heart tells me that she is someone who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have much to give. I am a stable boy who is training for a guard position and doesn't have much control of his Keyblade yet and I can be kinda naive but I love her. More than anything.”

The Fairy Godmother smiled at his answer; it had exceeded her expectations. “That’s even better than what I had expected you to say.” She stood up and went to a bookshelf and handed him a map. A map of the kingdom more specifically. “You see this area?” She pointed to an unnamed forest that was about halfway to the castle and his ranch. “There is no name on the map but people call it The Somnium Forest. It’s a magical forest where people go when they need help in their lives. They say that it feels like time stops when you enter and no one leaves the forest unsatisfied. The inside of the forest, they say, never looks the same for one person.” She held Ventus’ hands in hers, “Tomorrow young man, I want you to go to the Somnium and walk around for a bit. I’m sure it will help you with your dreams.”

Ventus wasn’t sure how a forest would help, but he was willing to try. He gave the Fairy Godmother one last hug and left with his Yoggy Ram.

Returning to the castle once more. Hera walked around the grounds with more disdain than usual. Why? She didn’t dream about the boy. His picture was carefully placed in her tea-length dress pocket (courtesy of a very late drawing session with Naminé) but having the paper wasn’t the same as seeing him in her dreams. It had only been a day and yet it was enough to put her in an upsetting mood. It was to the point that she didn’t want to hang around the castle anymore. That was how she found her way to the library asking Merlin for his map of the kingdom.

“Any place you want to go, in particular Young Hera?” He asked with his usual chipper tone.

“No, just want to explore, get out for a bit.” Hera held her head in her left hand as her right hand grazed over the different locations of the map, pointer finger out. She could go to the castle town? No, that was far too close to home. She could go to the outskirts and explore the hills that acted as the land border on the west side? No, if she was gone for too long Aqua would have a fit. Her eyes noticed a forest and that peaked her interest. “Merlin, what’s this place?”

He adjusted his glasses, “Ah! You mean The Somnium Forest? It’s a place where dreams come true as they say.” He takes a sip of his tea, “People go in there and not one person leaves upset. Forest is magical.”

“A magical forest?” Hera could use some more magic in her life. And even if it wasn’t, having the comfort of a forest setting could give her some semblance of her dream. “Thank you for your help Merlin, could I trouble you to watch Polly while I’m gone?”

“Oh it would be no trouble at all Princess! I love the little thing after all. Come along Polly, let’s see what potions I can make to help Aerith in the garden.” The Meow Wow and the Wizard walked in tandem as Hera packed the map and made her way to the stables. As much as she wanted to leave with no one’s notice, the brunette unfortunately ran into Aqua.

“Oh Princess Hera, why are you heading to the stables?”

“I just wanted to take my Pegaslick and explore for a bit. I’m not sure when I will be back so can you tell Naminé that she has the rest of the day off? Maybe tell her to have some sweets with Master Riku.”

“Princess, by yourself? Are you sure you don’t want me to join you? I could quickly-”

“No, Master Aqua, I’m fine.” Hera didn’t feel good about brushing her Master and protector off but she needed to go to this forest. It was calling her the same way her dreams did.

She got to the stables and had the royal stable boy Prompto helped ready her Pegaslick. “The reins are all good, Your Grace, enjoy your ride.”

Hera took off after a quick thank you and without a second thought. It was difficult to ride while holding the map but after an hour, Somnium Forest greeted her. She got off the Pegaslick and decided to walk the remainder, her companion close to her side.

Upon entering, the Princess did feel different. There was a strong happiness that washed over her. The fresh smell filled her nose and the grass seemed so soft that she took off her riding boots, hanging them on the saddle and continued barefoot. Eventually, Hera found herself walking deeper into the trees but she couldn’t find it in herself to worry about getting lost. A part of her knew that she wasn’t. In fact, the way the trees and flowers created a path. And the light through the trees. Her dress flowing in the soft breeze and the birds. It all made her stop to pinch herself.

“This has to be a dream.” A whisper that she barely heard left her lips but the muzzle of her Pegaslick acted as a reasurace that this was all real. With a new found fervor, Hera kept going.

On the other hand, Ventus was having the same feeling of déjà vu; only he bounded into the forest with reckless abandon. All these trees, flowers, and rocks he rode past were familiar to him. And as he approached a clearing, he knew this was the moment of truth.

They stared at each other on either side of the clearing. Both shook with excitement but neither moved out of fear of breaking this perfect scene. Ventus had to get off his Yoggy Ram but his eyes never once left hers. Carefully, they approached and once they met in the middle?

“You-are you-?” Hera couldn’t speak. So overwhelmed with joy that he stood before her as a flesh and blood person and not just some apparition. Rather she took out her drawing from the dress pocket and held it up. “It is you.”

Ventus held her face and she leaned into his touch. He wiped a tear that fell from her eye and nodded his head. “The boy from the dreams? Yes, that’s me.” Hera dropped the picture and hugged him. Her arms around his middle and his holding her head into his chest.

“I thought you weren’t real. I thought the universe was playing a horrible trick on me.”

“I promise I’m real. My name is Ventus, and I have wanted this moment ever since that first dream we had.” The dropped drawing was retrieved and put back into her pocket.

“Ventus,” What a beautiful name, “I am Hera. Your voice is so wonderful! I’m so glad to finally hear it!”

“The Princess? I’m so stupid for not recognizing you sooner. I must say Hera,” Ven brushed her hair behind her ears, “The dreams don’t do you justice. I didn’t think there could be a blue more clear than the sky, yet your eyes puts it to shame.” Hera blushed and smiled, wiping some tears from her cheeks. “There is just one thing missing to make our dream a reality.” Hera tilted her head. What more could they want? “There may not be music but, may I have this dance?”

He was right, no music played in this forest, but Hera happily accepted his hand as they moved across the grass. The laughter sounded even better than any of the nights they shared.

Off behind the trees, Aqua watched with the purest expression. Against her better judgement, she followed the young Princess to see if she was alright. Once she saw Hera with this young boy she knew everything was fine.

“So, you followed her I’m assuming?” Aqua looked and saw Terra approach as he went to the spot next to her.

“Yes, and I take it that he is yours?”

“Yeah, less ‘mine’. I’m more of his friend slash guardian.” They watched the kids dance and laugh and converse in the clearing. Terra broke their silence again, “Ventus, he’s training to be a royal guard.”

“Is he now?” Aqua smiled as she knew where this conversation was headed.

“Yes, I’m just a stable boy like him but I did undergo some training as well. I teach him everything and he is a very fast learner. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries but, perhaps the Princess could use another personal guard?”

Aqua laughed and didn't take her eyes off of the lovely couple as, "Yes, I'm sure Her Majesty would love that."

#I hope I did your baby justice Sammi #I feel like the ending was kinda a let down but I hope you like it Sam!#I took what you said about Ven being inspired by Link and kinda added to that.#The only Link I know is from Twilight Princess so that is my inspiration. :)#but this was so much fun to write #as you can tell #I love fantasy/royal aus #and I am Hera's aunt so I thought this was fitting #Plus i wanted to do something nice for your birthday since you drew something for me #I'm just glad I wrote it on time #Hera x Ventus #kingdom hearts #ocs #original character #not my oc #my writing #OUaD #enjoy

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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years

Text

Day 7: I Hate Christmas

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean finally tells YN why he isn't a fan of the holidays.

Warnings: Slight Depression/Anxiety, Fluff/Angst

A/N: Day 7 of my writing challenge! No hate on any SPN Cast/Character. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

December One Shots Masterlist

Dean and YN were cuddle up, enjoying their morning in bed. Neither of them wanted to get out of bed anytime soon, so they opted to just stay there as long as possible.

YN laid on Dean's bare chest, her arm around his midsection and his arm around her shoulder. Every once in a while, Dean would lean forward and kiss YN's head. YN would return the favor by kissing Dean's chest.

While they were laying there, YN had an idea, "Hey, babe?"

"Yes, beautiful?" Dean yawned.

"Let's play a game," she looked up at him.

Dean smiled, "What kind of game?"

"I'll ask you a question and you have to answer truthfully, then you can do the same for me. It can be any question, personal or random. Sound like fun?"

"Yeah, sounds fun. So who goes first?"

YN pointed at herself, "I came up with the game, so I get to go first."

"Oh, that doesn't seem fair," he raised an eyebrow, "You know the rules, YN. Age before beauty."

YN groaned, "Fine. What's your first question?"

Dean thought for a moment, "Who was your first kiss?"

"Oh, jeez," she giggled, "You're going to think it's trash."

"Was it that bad?"

YN shook her head, "No, I was just really young. I was in 4th grade, he was in 2nd."

Dean started laughing, "Okay, that does not count."

"Oh it counts. First kiss is a first kiss. His name was Tristan. We were outside on recess and we went behind the cherry blossom tree and he kissed me before giving me flowers and running away."

"Wow, run away from a beautiful girl? Now that's just wrong," Dean shook his head.

"True," YN nodded, "Okay, my turn."

This game went on for roughly an hour. Dean and YN both telling random stories for their question, some embarrassing and some personal.

But when YN asked her next question, the mood in the room shifted, "What's your favorite Christmas memory?"

Dean went silent. He refused to look at YN and more than that, he refused to speak. He looked at the ceiling before closing his eyes with a sigh.

"Dean? Is something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"Nothing. Can I get another question?"

YN sat up and looked at him, "Why?"

He turned to her, but refused to look her in the eyes, "I'm not particularly fond of the holidays, YN."

"Huh? What do you mean? We've been celebrating Christmas together for 3 years now. And you seem to enjoy it."

"I do enjoy it. With you," he sat up in the bed, "Growing up, Sam and I didn't really celebrate the holidays. Dad was always gone on a hunt and we were left to fend for ourselves. I tried to make it nice for Sammy, but it wasn't the same."

YN thought for a moment, "Do you have any Christmas memories with your mother?"

Dean shook his head, "I can't recall them well. I was only 4 when she died remember?"

"That's right. I'm sorry, Dean."

"I don't hate Christmas, but I'm not entirely fond of the holiday. I just try to make it nice and fun for you because you have such great memories with your family."

YN and Dean sat in silence for a bit, neither of them knowing what to say or do. Every once in a while, YN would catch Dean's eye, but he would look away immediately.

Suddenly, YN had another idea, "Dean, I have a new question."

"Okay, hit me."

"When you were a kid, what was the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world for Christmas?"

Dean thought for a bit, "Uh, I don't really know. I never thought about what I wanted. I focused more on Sammy."

"Well, was there a toy or perhaps something for Baby or even a weapon you wanted more than anything?" YN asked.

"Hmm," he thought, "I mean I loved those giant slinky toys. You know what I mean? Those rainbow ones that were bigger than your head?"

YN nodded, "Oh, yeah! I think I had one when I was super young," she got out of bed, "Come on. We're going shopping."

"W-what? Why?" Dean asked as he got out of bed.

"Get dressed. Shower if you want to, but we're leaving in 15 minutes," she said as she changed out of her pajamas.

Dean was so confused, "What is going on?"

"There's a toy store up the road," YN kissed his cheek, "And we have a huge rainbow slinky to find."

"What, really?!" he smiled.

"Of course. I'm determined to change your mind about this holiday, love," YN stood in the doorway, "Besides, your grown-up present is already under the tree," she winked at him.

Dean's eyes grew wide, "Oh, hell yeah."

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @smollestbean-2 @kitwithnokat

@idksupernatural @desiredposion @thevelvetseries @let-me-luve-you

@obsessedwithfandomsx @mangueweaschester @starchildwild @deans-baby-momma

@spnbaby-67 @unicornmadness2444

@emery--nicole--morrison @spnfamily-j2 @akshi8278 @avocadogirl216

@imthedoctorlove @wecantgiggleitsafandom

#spn #supernatural #Dean Winchester #Dean #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #CherryBlossomWritingChallenge

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newobsessionweekly · 4 years

Text

The pain she left behind

Title: The pain she left behind

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader, Sam x Platonic!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader, Jack x Platonic!Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, character death, grieveing, Dean crying, angst, death, a little bit of explicit content, violence, fluff, spoilers s14

Prompt 1: Loving me is a death sentence.

Prompt 2: We found each other. That’s all that matters.

A/N: This is my enterance for SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge. I don’t usually write and all that, but I wanted to try something new and I don’t know... I tried my best, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag: @supernatural-jackles

Something Dean has told himself and everyone around when they asked, is that he doesn’t need that in his life. He doesn’t need love, he doesn’t need to find a girl; he tried that before and it didn’t work out. But what he needs is to have his mind clear, focused on cleaning America from monsters, he needs to keep his family safe. But he failed, he met you and all his life was turned upside down. And sometimes he regrets the day they met you, because now, you are just too hard to forget.

Laying on the kitchen floor, heavily breathing from the enormous weight that’s pressing on his chest, Dean’s playing with a bottle of beer, switching it annoyingly from one hand to another over and over again, just as you’re switching in his head, from one memory to one another. He locked himself in his room for the past 3 days, binge watching some random horror movies wanting to wash away the need to cry, to scream, and beg God to bring you back to him, but it was pointless, he still cried himself to sleep. So he decided it’s time for something stronger; he needs to be back in tracks as soon as possible and be ready to fight the monster that took you away, there’s no time to grieve.

“Dean!” Sam yelled his name again while descending the stairs to the kitchen, abruptly snapping him from his memories of you.

He refuses to answer, he refuses to talk to anyone and Sam understands it, because he feels the empty space you left in their lives too, but he’s maybe more afraid than Dean to show it. Sam wants to be strong for his brother, he wants to be there for him, especially these days. Only the third time after hearing his name, Dean bothered to look up at his younger brother and allow him to see all the broken pieces of his heart spread all over the place.

“Sammy, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” Dean’s voice is rough and shaky, tears threatening to burst in any moment and Dean’s aware that he’s going to lose it soon, but still hoping that Sam will not be around.

“Dean, you have to – “

“I don’t have to do anything today.” He raised his index finger and stopped Sam, then he pointed to the fridge: “Now pass me another beer and leave.”

Sam did so and Dean thanked him with just a movement of his head, before turning his attention to the abandoned metallic box full of memories from his lap. A bunch of photos with Sammy, some with his mom and dad, few with his friends that soon became family, and even fewer with you. Dean doesn’t like photos that much, he’s not that kind of guy who’d let himself be photographed everywhere and every time, but now he wishes he was that kind and wishes he’d have done a lot more photos beside you. There are only six instant photos of you, with a red ribbon wrapped around them; six, one for every anniversary and one from the first proper Christmas the Winchesters ever had.

He’d have wanted to be that stupid kind of men and take photos of you everywhere: in your favourite pyjamas, curled up in a chair from the library with a leg under you, so deeply focused in research, trying so hard to fit in with his life; standing in front of a pan in the mornings when Sam would be out of town, only in your beautiful underwear, moving your hips while making breakfast for him; curled up in a soft, warm blanket on a chair, sound asleep far too many hours before Sam and Dean would come home after so many weeks of being away.

“Dean!”

You jumped from one of the chairs on the war room at the sound of the bunker’s door loudly opening. You almost caught roots on that place waiting for Dean and Sam to show up. You woke up alone this morning, no sight of any of the brothers or your angelic friend so you waited and waited before panic started to grow inside of you. You prayed to Cas and asked him if something happened, you started to pace around the war room when no answer was coming and then you sat on that chair and wondered what the hell happened with everyone. Bad scenarios running through that beautiful mind of yours and you were preparing for the worst.

But you were never prepared for what entered that door; Sam, Dean and Cas were fighting over heels to carry a giant fir tree, you could bet it is even taller than Sam. Your jaw dropped at the sight of Dean, all covered in snow and sweat beads painting his forehead, trying his best not to drop the lower part of the tree.

“What happened? Are you ok? How hard did Sam hit you in the head?” You tried to hide the fact that you were scared as hell with a sarcastic tone, and thankfully Dean bite it, but Cas not so much, because he was throwing you Cas-type of awkward glances.

Dean always rejected the idea of having a proper and normal holiday celebration so as you skipped Halloween, again, you pleaded and pleaded, every night and every day to celebrate at least Christmas, your favourite holiday. But a week or two ago, you gave up when you saw you were getting not even a negative response to your question.

Library was transformed and instead of two big and cold tables with some uncomfortable chairs around, there was a long table decorated with two beautiful candlesticks and little angels and snowflakes. The dish was prepared by Dean with a little help from you, and all around the bunker were hanged beautiful lights, some Santa figurines and angels. Christmas tree was decorated by you and Dean who got involved in this holiday celebration thing more than you even expected.

Sitting around the Christmas tree, after everybody praised the food, you were smiling proudly to have these special people around you. Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Patience and Kaia are your second family, and every time Sam and Dean would leave for a serious case, they’d prefer you to stay with the girls. Not because they don’t trust you, just because they’d be more peacefully than knowing you home alone so many days in the bunker. You and Alex became very good friends especially because none of you is hunting. Your boyfriend wants to keep you out of this life as much as possible and is trying to make everything as normal as he can.

Dean ripped you from your thoughts when he wrapped his hand around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. You smiled at him excitedly and then exchanged presents with the girls. Then you gave Jack his present, a blue sweater to match yours, and he sadly looked at you. You panicked a little when you saw his face and your body strained, catching Dean’s attention.

“Why are you sad? You don’t like it?” you asked Jack.

“No,no! I love it!” he immediately said, stopping you from making films inside your head. “But I didn’t know we were buying each other gifts. I thought only Dean was supposed to buy you a present, because he’s your boyfriend.”

“Oh, so Dean bought me a present, huh?” you turned to look at your boyfriend and showed him your most beautiful and mischievous smile. “Sam, you really should tell me with what you hit him in the head because it may use me too in the future.”

Everyone laughed at your joke and Dean could swear he had never seen you so happy in his life. He knows Christmas is your favourite holiday and he and Sam were always preoccupied with hunting and saving the world to even think about these holidays, but you understood and never complained. You anyway got to celebrate it at Jody’s place, so you never said anything to Dean, mostly because it was pointless; you loved Dean so much and you accepted him as he is, you accepted his life and embraced it, though he kept you at a secure distance from his life, especially to protect you, and offered you a life as normal as possible, but it was impossible after a certain point ...

Sam watched Dean from distance as he flipped through the Polaroids, with tears cascading on his cheeks, knotting under his chin and loud sobs shaking his body in pain. It breaks Sam’s heart, but he needs it, he needs to cry, to express his feelings, to get it over his chest, even for a moment.

Jack accompanied Sam and Cas and watched over Dean, but they stopped themselves to intervene when a bottle of beer loudly crashed on the floor and wetted everything around. All three of them startled when the sound reached their ears, but they stood still.

It was odd for Dean to break like that in a place where anyone could enter any moment, but nothing was normal anymore, it wasn’t normal for him to lose like that the love of his life, so he allowed himself to do all sorts of strange things in order to calm down even for a second.

“Deano!” you giggled happily in his ear as your body embraced him from behind, your naked body combined with his, just as clothless as yours. It is barely eight and he would probably curse for the rest of the morning if your plan on waking him up will work. It is your fifth anniversary and after long and deep talks with Sam, you decided it’s time to do a little more today.

After you prepared your special breakfast while Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter giving you small advices here and there, he decided to leave you two alone, teasing you, saying you can be as noisy as you please.

You leaned over him and pressed your lips on his back, chaotically tracing kissed all over his shoulders and going up to his neck and cheeks and then right back from the beginning. Leaving wet spots all over his body, Dean rolled on his back, making you to fall on top of him, your breasts pressing firmly on his chest.

“Well, that is a very interesting way to wake me up, sweetheart.” Dean yawned and looked at you first only with his right eye, then with his left one, finding it very hard to keep them both open.

You are a simple couple, but more like an old married couple who just puzzle up one another like you’ve known each other for your whole lives. Dean and you as well are not the kind to celebrate and do big stuff about it, just cooking together a breakfast, finally making time for you in such a long time and mostly spending the day together, talking and fixing the problems that you encountered on the way. You are just communicating, that’s your celebration. And this is all you need. But this morning, Dean felt it’s going be a little different. He can smell the breakfast already cooked and he frowned at the smell of fresh, hot coffee.

He kissed you with love, cupping your cheek and rubbing his finger over it, as he always does when he wants to melt your heart, because he knows your weaknesses so well. You cuddle in a little more before you decided to get out of bed and eat your breakfast, stalling a bit to telling one more time – or ten more times – how much you love each other.

“I wanted to spoil you today.” You told him as you put your underwear on and wrapped the red satin robe, the one Dean loves, around your body.

“You know what –“ Dean begins, chewing loudly his bacon. “I’ve been thinking –“ he stops again, sipping his coffee, giving you appreciative sounds as in he’s enjoying very much the coffee you made.

“Oh, no! Always ends bad when you’re thinking.” You teased him and laughed so hard when he gives you the Winchester bitch face. “Ok, we are serious this morning. I’m listening.”

“I was thinking... maybe we should get married.” He says.

Your heart stops at the sound of his words and you almost choke with coffee, slightly coughing to get lost the lump that formed in your throat. You dreamed of marrying Dean from the first moments when you met him. He’s exactly what you’re looking for in a man, he is smart, funny and you can feel his love for you, though he doesn’t show it that much. You love him terribly much and never crossed your mind that this day would come, despite the fact you wanted it so bad. You understand that his life is dangerous, complicated and he doesn’t have time for this kind of things in the first place. You never thought about changing a thing about him or his life and never said anything, because nothing bothered you in the first place. Dean loves you, Dean treats you so right and protects you that you never needed anything and accepted him with his good and a little less good things without questioning, because it is a part of loving.

You adore him with every inch of your being, and the fact that he thought about marring you shocked you, that for the first time, you couldn’t get the words find your mouth. He looked at you, still chewing his food, but he had more of a worried look.

“Ar-are you sure?” you asked and he grabbed your hand over the table and caressed your soft skin.

“Yes, I am a hundred percent sure.” He frowned a little before he continued: “You?”

“Yes!” you immediately responded, leaving no place for any other thoughts. “Yes, I want to marry you, Dean Winchester.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He chuckled and pressed his lips over yours, and then over your forehead. “I discussed with my mom about it, when she was around... She gave me her ring.”

He excitedly bit his bottom lip and then he told you to wait for him, just rising his index finger and then hurried over your bedroom. You smiled like a fool and your stomach flipped almost painfully just at the thought that he discussed this with his mother, especially knowing how important his mother was.

He came back too soon and ripped out of your thoughts and he shyly asked for your hand. Dean placed the ring on your ring finger and you kissed him so many times, as he dragged you on his lap.

You planned your wedding to be something simple, just a dinner with some friends at the bunker, but soon enough, it turned out to be a dinner with all of your friends at the bunker. You are wearing a simple white casual dress and Dean is wearing his FBI costume, nothing fancy, because fancy was never the Winchester style.

“I am not good at words, especially not at speeches.” He paused a little and everyone laughed. “But I need to say that I love you to death, Y/n Winchester! And I am so grateful that we found each other, that’s all that matters. “

“I love you to death, Dean Winchester!”

And you indeed loved him to death.

In Dean’s head was repeating over and over again the way your body collapsed into the ground, as the last tears fell onto your cheeks when your eyes shut closed. Dean could imagine only a quarter of the pain you left the world with, but he never understood your enormous love for him, not even in your last moments when you looked at him and told him how much you love him.

As Chuck paced the grass and waited, you stand still as you had the gun He gave to you pointed at Jack. The nephilim is dangerous, he is a monster and must be stopped.

“Y/n!” Sam and Dean shouted as they came running towards you. “Y/n, no!”

“I understand...” Jack said, looking up to you from where he stayed on his knees, Sam and Dean calling your name in the background. “I know what I’ve done.”

“No, no, no, no! Y/n!” your husband came running to you, but he stopped as he heared your voice:

“Stay back, Dean!” you said, looking at Jack.

“And you were right, all along. I am a monster.” Jack said.

“Do something!” Dean told Chuck, but he frowned when He shushed him. “Are you enjoying this?”

You took the safety off as you overheard their conversation and looked at Jack one more time; he was standing in his knees in front of you, with his hands folded on his lap, looking innocently at you. He is just a kid, he’s no monster. You frowned; all of this is just Chuck’s plan. You put the safety back on and lowered the gun, throwing it away on the grass.

“No,no! Pick it up!” Chuck said and approached the two of you and Jack looked at him with a frowning painted on his face. “Pick it up! This isn’t how the story is suppose to end!”

“The story?” Castiel asked.

“Look at the Gathering Storm, the gun... this is epic!”

“Wait what are you saying?” Dean asked Chuck, moving his sight from you to Him.

“He’s saying that he’s been playing us...” Sam responded and Chuck sighs “...this whole time.”

“Come on – “ Chuck started but he’s been interrupted by Sam:

“Our entire lives... mom, dad, everything. This is all you, because... you wrote it all, right? Because... because, what? Because we’re your favourite show? Because we’re part of your story?”

“Y/n, no offense, but your brother-in-law is stupid and crazy. This kid is still dangerous. So pick up the gun.” You looked at the gun but didn’t make any move. “Pick is up. Pull the trigger. And I’ll bring her back. I’ll bring Mary back.”

Everyone’s faces fell contemplatively, and you really thought about it as a possibility. Jack moved his looking to you and tried to understand what were you thinking.

“No!” Dean responded immediately.

“I’m not talking to you, Dean. I know how much you want this for Dean, because you love him so much and you want him to be happy and all crap. So pull the trigger and I’ll bring her back.”

“No.” You said and Chuck frowned.

“My mom was my hero, and I miss her, and I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this, she would not want this for Y/n. She wouldn’t want for her to have her hands stained with innocent blood and live with the thought of killing someone innocent, someone she loves so much, for the rest of her life. And it’s not like you even really care, ‘cause Sam’s right. The Apocalypse, Lucifer and Michael, you knew everything that was going on. So why the games, Chuck? Huh? Why don’t you just snap your fingers and end it?”

”Look...” Chuck started, but he was again stopped by Sam.

“And every other bad thing we’ve been killing, or dying over...” he scoffed. “Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer? So we can do this over and over and over again? Fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me!”

“Y/n, don’t do this – “ Chuck said, but no one let Him finish one sentence.

“No, we’re done talking. ’Cause this... this isn’t just a story... it’s our lives! Leave my wife alone. So God or no God, go to hell!” Dean said, both of the Winchesters having their serious faces put on, while chuck smiled mischievously in the corner of the lips.

“Have it your way!” He said, then snapping his fingers.

Everybody watched as your body collapsed lifelessly into the ground, and Dean shouted your name, but the pain was too deafening. Everyone was shocked, and Sam reacted as adrenaline was pumping in his body. He picked up the gun and drunken in pain, he shot Chuck in order to kill, for you, for his best friend. Unfortunately, he shot God in shoulder, and Sam as well felt a killing pain in his shoulder.

Dean cried his pain out of his body, his soul and he tried to cry you out of his mind too, but it was too hard. He tried to erase that hurtful memory of you, but it just wouldn’t get off, it would play over and over again, just to kill him slowly and slowly every second. He broke down one more time, loudly sobbing and frantically shaking his body.

Sam ran towards him and crashed beside him, Sam as well having tears staining his cheeks at the sight of his big brother broken like this. There were too many bottles of beer drunk and Dean was not feeling alright at all. Sam’s arms moved around Dean’s body and embraced him, trying not to let him broke into pieces.

“It’s alright, Dean! I’m here. I’m here, Dean!” Sam shushed him and tried to keep him from shaking.

“Everyone around me is getting hurt and they are dying, Sammy. Loving me is a death sentence, Sammy.”

“Dean... listen to me!” Sam cupped his cheeks and moved his head from his shoulder so that he can look into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, look at me. I love you and I’m not going anywhere, alright? Y/n loves you from a better place, alright? I bet you’re gonna get into the same heaven someday, alright?” Dean slowly nodded his head and looked at Sam between the eyelashes, finally he stopped crying. “Let’s go get your strength back and we’re going to kill that son of a bitch, alright?” Dean nodded again and let Sam put him to bed, hoping maybe it will hurt less tomorrow.

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blackhakumen · 3 years

Text

Mini Fanfic #821: Welcome Back to Smash Town (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

5:54 p.m. Outside of the Smash Mansion......

Pyra: Rex!~ (Rushes Over to her Boyfriend)

Rex: Pyra!~ (Rushes to Pyra and Hugs Her Lovingly) You guys are back!

Pyra: (Hugs Rex Back Lovingly) That's right. And I am SOOO SORRY we left you in that mansion alone!

Rex: (Gives Pyra a Reassuring Smile on his Face) It's fine, Pyra. I know you it wasn't on purpose or anything. Plus, I managed to keep myself fairly busy around the mansion for a couple of days before Star Wolf arrived here yesterday. So it wasn't all bad. Ooh! And Mr. Caroso convinced me to write you love poem in Spanish! It's...not done yet, but I really hope you like it at least!

Pyra: (Giggles Softly) I'm sure I'll lobe every word of it, Rex. I'm glad you were you doing okay here.

Rex: Yeah. I'm pretty glad too in a way. But what about you, Pyra? Did you had a good time at Isle Defino?

Pyra: I did for the most part. We did quite a lot throughout the week: Eat out, have water balloons fights, sightseeing.....

Rex: Did the place have spas there as well?

Pyra: Yep. I went there myself and It was a nice experience. One of the Spa instructors was even kind enough to give me instructions on how to do a proper back massage. I can try giving you one someday if you like-

Rex: YES!.... I...I-I mean....Y-Yeah. Sure. (Chuckles Awkwardly While Blushing) I wouldn't mind having one at all if it's uh....(Makes his Way Inside the Mansion Along with Pyra) No problem with you, of course.

Pyra: (Giggles Softly at How Cute Rex is Being Right Now) Whatever you say, Rex~

.........................................................

Samus: (Watches Ridley Tries to Flirt with Dark Samus From a Distance With Fox, Chun-Li, and Li-Fen) Never thought I would see the day when these two idiots are falling for one another.....

Fox: You think they'll be an item soon?

Samus: Probably. Highly doubt it'll last though.

Chun-Li: I wouldn't be so sure about that, Sammy. Anything is possible for those two if they really care that much about each other.

Li-Fen: Yeah. I think they're kind of cute together.

Samus: (Shrugs) Eh. Still not feeling it. I'm going inside-

Chun-Li: (Sudden Grabs Samus' Hand) Wait, Sammy! Before you go inside, do you wanna do something special tonight back at my place?....Just the two of us?

Samus: Yeah. I'm down. (Gives Chun-Li a Playful Smirk) What's the plan?~

Chun-Li: (Starts Blushing While Shyly Rubbing the Back of her Head Back and Forth) W-Well I...umm......

Chun-Li starts whispering the details into Samus' ear. It wasn't long before the Bounty Hunter's eyes begins to widened and cheeks starts blush in deep interesting and excitement.

Chun-Li/Samus: FOXY!!!!

Fox: (Gets Startled by the Sudden Yelling) What!? What is it?

Chun-Li: We're so sorry for asking you this out of the blue and all, but-

Samus: You mind taking care of Li-Fen for the night for us!?

Li-Fen: ('GASPS') A night with Uncle Foxy? (Happily Hugs Fox) Yay!~ Can you, Uncle Foxy?

Fox: Guys, we got back here a few minutes ago. Don't you it's bit too early for me babysit-

Samus/Chun-Li/Li-Fen: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEE!?~

Fox: ('Sighs in Defeat') Okay. Okay. Fine. I'll look after her for the tonight. Happy?

Chun-Li: (Immediately Pulls Fox into a Hug) Thank you so much, Foxy!~ I'll be sure to make it up to you very soon. I promise!

Samus: (Ruffles the Top of Fox's Head with a Bright Smile) Same here, man. You can count on it.

Fox: (Starts Rolling his Eyes) Uh-huh. Just enjoy your date night already, alright?

Li-Fen: I hope you two have a great time together tonight!

Chun-Li: Thanks, honey. (Kiss the Top of Li-Fen's Forehead) Take good care of Uncle Foxy for us, okay?

Fox: Hey! I can take care of myself just fine-

Li-Fen: (Happily Salutes to her Mother) Yes, ma'am!

Fox: (Groans While Facepalming Himself)

Samus: Good on ya, kiddo. Now, in the meantime....(Whispers to Chun-Li's Ear) Take my ass to bed~

Chun-Li: (Giggles Softly While Carrying Samus in her Arms) Yes, ma'am~

Chun-Li/Samus: See you two in the morning!~ (Immediately Making Their Way to Chun-Li's Place)

Li-Fen: (Happily Wave Goodbye to the Couple) Bye, Mom! Bye Momma Samus! Have a goodnight!...Wait. (Turns Back to Fox) Why are they going to bed earlier? It's not even nighttime yet.

Fox: It's best not think about it too much, kiddo.

......................................................

Coco: (Hugs Tails Lovingly) Welcome back home, buddy~

Wave: (Ruffles the Top of Tails' Hair) Had a good time out there?

Tails: (Smiles Brightly) Yep! Besides mom and dad got arrested, it was great.

Coco: ('GASPS') Oh my gosh. Seriously!?

Waves: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) How did all of that happened?

Tails: It's... kind of a long story actually. But I'll tell you about it later. How have you girls been while I was away?

Coco: (Smiles Brightly Again) Pretty good. We started hanging out a few days.

Tails: Oh really?

Coco: Yep. We did quite a lot actually: Eat out, shopping, gaming, even watched a movie together.

Wave: Needless to way, it was....fairly decent for the most part.

Tails: That's great! So I guess that means you two are finally getting along now, huh?

Wave: (Shrugs) Yeah. I guess so....(Points at Coco) Still think she's annoying twerp though.

Coco: (Immediately Glares at Wave) Really? Even after making amends, you STILL wanna throw insults?

Wave: Hey, just because we tolerate each other now....(Crosses her Arms While Smirking at Coco) doesn't mean I'll ever stop thinking of you as one.

Coco: Oh yeah? Well, I still think you're an irritating, smart mouthed, know-it-all, and you don't see me blurting it out to you at the last second!

Wave: Doesn't change the fact that you already blurted it out, little miss Einstein.

Coco: Don't get smart with me, birdbrain!! And stop rolling your eyes everytime I talk to you!!

Wave: I can roll my eyes whenever I damn well please, twerp!

Tails: (Sighs as He Watches his Two Friends Arguing Back and Forth With One Another With a Bit of a Sheepish Smiles) It's good to be home....

.........................................................

Rouge: (Squeals Happily at What is in Front of Her) Knuckie!~ What gotten you so dressed on and handsome this evening?~

Knuckles: (Wearing A Decent Looking Tuxedo) I wanna take you out on a date tonight. (Starts Blushing a Little) To celebrate your homecoming and junk....

Rouge: Oh honey~ (Gives Knuckles a Loving Hug) That's so sweet and romantic of you~ Thanks~ (Kiss Knuckles on the Cheek Before Pulling Away and Making her Way Inside the Mansion) I'll go change!

Knuckles: Wait. Right now? You're wearing a dress already.

Rouge: (Turns Back to Knuckles) This is a beach dress, Knuckie. It's obviously not as stunning compare to what you're wearing.

Knuckles: ('Tch') Pleased. You're already stunning enough as it is.

Rouge: (Giggles Softly Before Coming Back to Knuckles and Playful Pinching his Cheek) You're sweet~ But my mind's already made up. Gotta look my best every and then, you know?

Knuckles: ('Sigh') Fine. (Follow Rouge Inside the Mansion) Just don't take too long.

Rouge: Don't have your tie in a bunch, 'hon. We have all night.

.......................................................

Kyoko: (Gasps Loudly at the Pianta Like Plushie Dark Pit Given Her) What are these!?~

Dark Pit: Your souvenirs. I think it's supposed to be some legendary hero of the island or whatever. Hope you guys like it.

Kyoko: Pitto-Kins, I will love and cherish this plushie for the rest of my life. (Happily Hugs her Plushie) Thank youuuuuuu!~

Misako: (Smiles Softly While Holding a Plushie of her Own) Yeah, babe. This is sweet. You didn't have to go out of your way to do this for us.

Dark Pit: (Shrugs) Eh. It wasn't a big deal. I thought about the two of you throughout the trip. So I decided to get you something nice. You guys have any plans ?

Misako: Other than seeing your cute face again, I'd say we're free for the most part. Why asked?

Dark Pit: Wanna go to the Hotsprings together? There's supposed to be one in town somewhere.

Kyoko: Oooh! You mean Troops Hotsprings? (Smiles Brightly) We can totally go there together!~

Dark Pit: Cool. You know where it is?

Misako: Yeah. It's a few miles, across the street from here. Pretty cheap for the most part.

Dark Pit: Bitchin' (Turns to Pit) Pit-Stain! If anyone ask, tell them I'll be at the Hotsprings. (Starts Walking Away With his Two Girlfriends)

Pit: 'Kay! Have fun! And don't fall asleep in the water like I did!

Misako: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Fall asleep in the water?

Dark Pit: I'll explain later.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@princekirijo

@supergamemaster64

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

A one-off request for @lonelyghostwriter: a story about Joey introducing Henry to the more innocent side of magic. This is just a goofy, whimsical ball of fun, and Joey x Henry is implied. This is the last one-off before I’m finishing “The Angel of the Ink Machine.”

The Boris had come out perfect.

The Boris had come out perfect!

And then it had decked him and run away to God knew where, but it had come out perfect! Joey was ecstatic. All he had to do now was hunt the creature down and make a few more and his dream would be fulfilled! And in the meantime, he had one more dream that he needed to fulfill, one that concerned his dear partner, Henry.

Despite sharing so much of his life and soul with Henry, he’d always kept the magic secret from him. He’d moved nearly all his supplies into the studio when Henry had moved in. Even the spell he needed to do regularly to keep disease at bay, he completed before Henry got up in the morning, with a pentagram hidden under the carpeting in their closet. But seeing their cartoon creations brought to life was worth the risk of scaring him- and anyhow, Joey Drew had planned how he’d do this years ago.

After dealing with Buddy’s body and before coming home that night, Joey made calls to Allison and Sammy. It was late, and in the excitement he’d forgotten that he’d fired Allison out of anger mere hours ago. Thankfully he’d been able to bribe her into one more session of potion-making. Sammy hadn’t picked up at all, but Joey could make do without him.

---

Henry woke up, far too early, to Joey shaking him awake with a big smile on his face.

“Huh? What is it?” Henry asked.

“I have a whole day planned for us. Get up! We’re meeting Allison soon. There’s something- a lot of somethings, actually- that I need to show you. You have an hour to get ready. Alright?”

“Uh, okay!” Henry was kind of used to Joey being full of surprises. He was fairly sure this would be a good one- they usually were. Within an hour, he was in the passenger seat of Joey’s car.

Joey took a deep breath. This would be the difficult part- admitting all he’d been hiding from Henry for the past few years. “So, Henry... you know how I tell you that Sammy and I go bowling together? Well, that’s not entirely true. Sammy and I share a hobby, but it’s one I didn’t know how to explain to you without showing it to you, and... anyhow, we perform magic together.”

Henry didn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Okay, the thought of Sammy doing stage magic is pretty strange. But it seems right up your alley- why did you hide it from me?”

“It’s not stage magic. And you’ll see why later.”

“Oh. Um.” Henry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Great. I can’t wait!”

A while later, they pulled up to a lovely brick house on the outskirts of town. Over the short wooden fence, Henry could see a lovely hutch of three rabbits. The garden had a lot of browning plants in it that clearly weren’t getting enough attention. “Nice place- must have cost a lot to get one in this area. Who lives here?” Henry asked.

“Allison,” Joey answered, ringing the doorbell. “I borrow books and buy potions off of her. And we’re going to make potions with her today.”

Thomas opened the door, rolled his eyes and called for Allison before retreating into the garage. Then, Allison popped her head in.

“Hey, guys! Sorry to call you here so early. But you know- early is the only time you can get fresh morning dew, and for what we’re making, that’s pretty important.”

“Of course,” Joey said. “I brought everything we’ll need. Let’s get cooking!”

Henry had been put to the task of chopping up herbs as Joey mixed three strangely-labelled vials into a pot of boiling water and Allison was outside collecting morning dew and whiskers from her rabbits. He was pretty sure at this point that this was some bizarre prank. Hopefully there would be some kind of payoff to it and this wasn’t just a waste of a Saturday, but at least Allison seemed pleasant enough.

“So, where do you get crow’s blood from?” Henry asked, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“A crow!” It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell Henry about the black market- at least, not yet.

“Okay. So, what’s this potion supposed to do?”

“You’ll see,” Joey said cryptically, “this is actually a pretty powerful one.”

A few minutes later, everything had been added, and the potion had boiled for just long enough, according to Allison. She scooped some out into coffee mugs with a ladle and handed it out to Joey and Henry.

Henry stared down apprehensively at the unappetizing mix of herbs and hair floating in the clearish-brown substance. “What’s it going to taste like?”

Allison smiled. “About how it looks, I’m afraid. But go on, down the hatch. Oh, and the effect might startle you, but it isn’t supposed to last long, so just try to have fun with it.”

Henry did as he was told, and Allison took his cup. He started to feel... heavy, and off-balance, and dropped down onto his hands. All traces of red melted from his vision, leaving the world in tones of blue, yellow, and green. Joey ruffled his hair, and it seemed as though his skull was smaller and thinner than usual. He said something that Henry heard as gibberish. Then, Joey took a sip of his drink, handed the cup to Allison, and before Henry’s eyes, turned into a black lab.

Henry yelped and skittered backwards, and yelped again once he caught sight of his own paws. But Allison was laughing- she seemed unconcerned, and she had said that this was temporary. So, Henry rolled with it. Allison ushered the two of them into the backyard, where they played fetch. A while later, as Henry was trotting back to Allison with the tennis ball in his mouth, he felt his teeth dull and his center of balance change once again, and he spat the ball back onto the ground. Joey came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, Henry? Do you believe in magic now?” Joey asked.

“Yeah, it would be pretty hard to deny at this point.”

“Thank you. Because I have a whole lot else to show you.”

Joey returned to Allison. “And thank you! I’ll miss this, you know.”

“I’ll miss it, too,” Allison admitted. “I’ve never made a potion this advanced before- and I might not have much use for it, but imagine the kind of money I could make from this! Oh, and thanks for testing it for me.” Allison went quiet a moment. “Let’s keep in touch, alright?”

Joey weighed his bitterness with his desire to do just that. “Sure.”

With that, Joey and Henry got back into Joey’s car and they took off to their next destination.

“So... you’ve been doing stuff like that for years?”

“Well, yes and no. Allison is more of a specialist than I am. Unfortunately, the stuff I’m most into has a bad reputation, but I’m going to show you that it can be just as innocent as Allison’s potions.”

Henry nodded. After literally turning into a dog, he wasn’t even going to try and guess what Joey had in store. After a few minutes, Henry found himself gazing out at a wooded area on the edge of town. Henry figured that Joey must have been driving to another city, but instead he pulled over onto the side of the road and ushered Henry into the brush, taking with him a bag. Finally, Joey reached a clearing and dropped the bag.

“This is the place,” he announced.

It was an untamed natural area, with no trails made through it. No one was likely to come out here. It wasn’t pretty either- just a dusty field surrounded by trees.

“Sammy and I spent our first few sessions here. I spent some of my first sessions here alone, too- learning to summon things. And now, I’m going to summon something for you. A demonstration.” Joey’s back was turned to Henry- he was scared of how he’d react.

Henry was beginning to worry- Joey sounded like he was trying to seem positive, but it wasn’t working.

“What kinds of things? And how?”

Joey met Henry’s eyes. Henry didn’t seem too afraid yet. Still, there was no easy way to explain this. “We summon spirits and Gods from the spirit realm using pentagrams. The spirit realm isn’t hell, spirits aren’t demons, and Gods aren’t the Christian God. No religion is right about everything. Spirits aren’t angels and demons- they aren’t fully good or evil any more than people are. But it’s the more reckless ones- the fast-and-easy-with-the-rules ones- that are likely to come when you’re summoning one. Pentagrams are like a ‘help wanted’ add for spirits and Gods. They have a job description, which are in the pentagram itself. Pentagrams are like writing in their language. And, they have an offering of pay. The sacrifice for spirits is generally flesh or blood. Tasks that are more difficult for them, you want to leave out more of a payment, or the ritual has a higher chance of failing- no one took the bait, basically. Or, someone did, but thought your offer was so insulting that they found a way to bungle it up. Gods… they demand a greater sacrifice. But summoning Gods is considered insane even by pentagram users. A spirit won’t escape unless your pentagram has line breaks, and there’s a limit to how much damage they can do. As for Gods, well… even I don’t know how to contain them, or the consequences of letting them escape…”

Joey broke his somber monologue with a bright smile. “So, wanna ask a demon to grab us some lunch?”

“Uh...”

“Okay, I know I made that sound scary. But I’ve... actually been doing a summoning ritual every morning to keep myself healthy for years. It’s no big deal.”

Henry smiled awkwardly. “Can I maybe just watch?”

Joey smiled back. “Sure.”

And so, Henry watched. Joey drew up a pentagram in the dirt, lit a candle in its center, and then slit his wrist and let his blood drop onto the pentagram.

Henry rushed to the bag and pulled out a first aid kit to tend to Joey’s wound. Henry had seen the scars on Joey’s right hand before, and had seen them seem to grow and stay fresh, but he’d never gotten the chance to really look at them before.

“Y’know, this is actually a huge relief. I mean, it’s a lot of things, but... Joey, I thought you were self-harming, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m glad you’re not.”

Joey smiled. “Thanks. So, are you okay with this?”

“I mean, I guess so. It seems shady, but you aren’t harming anyone.”

“Good. Because I’ve been working with the Gods of the spirit realm, and with their help, I brought one of our cartoons into existence. And I didn’t want to hide the magic from you anymore because I couldn’t imagine leaving you out of something that big! The toon I made is a Boris. He’s scared, and hiding somewhere in the studio. After lunch, will you help me coax him out of hiding?”

Henry’s face was lit up with awe and disbelief. “Oh my God. Of course! I can’t believe this! Joey, you should have told me sooner!”

Joey could practically feel the weight of secrecy leaving his shoulders. He still had to keep the murders away from Henry, of course, but he didn’t mind that. The murders weren’t a part of him. Magic was. “Thank you. I should have known I could trust you.”

At that moment, the pentagram glowed, and a picnic lunch sprang up from the ground.

“Let’s go see what those demons sent us for lunch.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #joey drew #Henry Stein #allison pendle #satanism #my fanfiction #requests #lonelyghostwriter #creatorship

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waywardbeanie · 4 years

Text

A Man of Letters - Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 7212 (ish)

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: IT’S CHRISTMAS, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always), angst, spicy (smut), unprotected (ish) sex

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series so far, I have loved writing it and watching the characters grow. I appreciate EVERY ONE OF YOU who are taking this journey with me. We are a little less than half way there so BUCKLE UP!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09 and my mind melder, idea bouncer and my cheerleader @whatareyousearchingfordean I would be lost without you both!

Thank you to @talesmaniac89 she is the gif MASTER!

MASTERLIST A Man of Letters

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

Y/F/N “Santa’s Little Helper” Y/L/N

127 Washington St

Lincoln, NE 68506

Babe,

I will tell you it took me a few minutes to read your letter because I just wanted to look at the pictures that you sent. You're right, one of us in bed being lazy is my new favorite. The way you smile in that picture is exactly how you smile at me when you wake up in the morning. I love it on the one hand, but it's sad too. If I close my eyes and it's quiet, I can almost imagine myself back there. I love the one at the bonfire. That hangover was awful, it's a great picture, and we look like we are having fun. How do you think I would forget the beach picture with my favorite bathing suit? I can tell you that you went to the edge of the water to wash your feet and legs off. I called your name, you looked at me over your shoulder and blew me a kiss, right before you laughed and I took the picture.

Thank you for sending them, just like with all the photos you take they tell a story, I'm just lucky enough to be in your story. That first Thanksgiving together was awesome, we had so many people we care about there. Sam and I had a real Thanksgiving meal that wasn't from a gas station or TV dinner. Of course, thinking of that makes me think about Christmas. You went out of your way to make it memorable. I had never had a real tree that I remember, but cutting down my own? I didn't realize what I was missing. Christmas morning was still the best. I still can't figure out how you and Sam were able to pull it off.

We have gone on three raids since your last letter and have come up with a lot of nothing. They knew we were coming, that is the only thing I can think of. Sam and I talked about it, we have an idea that maybe someone around here is running their mouth, so we are locking shit down. Unless we need to go for supplies, everyone stays here; if they go out, it's in pairs now. We did find a couple of ledgers that were left behind. Charlie is putting them all into a computer and will try to make sense of them or decide if they were left there to throw us off the trail. We are still training; sometimes, I get so angry; it's what gets me through.

I sat down with Sam the other day and finally told him my plan. I was going to wait until this job was over, but I honestly thought this job would have already been over. He blew my mind when he told me he was surprised I hadn't done it already. He said he knew by that first Christmas that it was just a matter of time, that I would leave this life behind within five years. He knew I couldn't walk away until we wrapped things up as neatly as possible, which, as you know, is why I'm on this job. I no longer feel like I'm walking away from my brother, but that I'm walking towards something, I'm just fucking ready.

Before I sign off, I want to tell you how proud I am that you were chosen again as the official photographer! You are so good; there is no one else they could have picked! I hope I have better news next time, but unless something breaks soon, I won't be back in time to help with the parade this year, but I know you will be great! Watch your back until I can.

I Love You,

2 ½ years ago

Tink: Sam, I need your help with something.

Sam: Are you okay?

Tink: Yes, I'm fine; it's about a present for Dean. Can you talk?

Sam: He is sitting right next to me.

Tink: Can you get up?

Sam: We are in the car

Tink: You didn't tell him it was me texting you, did you? I want it to be a surprise.

Sam: No, but he is starting to give me weird looks.

Tink: Can you see the face I'm giving you right now, Sam? This is a SECRET

Sam: okay well stop saying shit that makes me laugh because he just asked me who I was texting like a schoolgirl

Tink: Ugh!. Can you call me when you guys get to the motel, but it should be before or after Dean calls. Please. Shhh a SECRET

Sam: I'll call before because you guys are on the phone half the night, and I'm not staying up that late.

Tink: I'm STILL giving you the face Sam

Sam: Okay, I'll call. I got to go. Dean just rolled down the window and is giving me a look. I'm not going to lose another one of my phones so ttyl.

Standing side by side, arms crossing their chest in matching poses, they studied the tree that they put in the stand in the front living room window.

Y/N pressed her lips together in a line, "I think it needs to go on the back porch; it's too big."

"What!" Dean cried, "It's perfect. I just might need to trim it a little."

She shook her head, disagreeing with him, "It's wider than I am tall at the bottom and-" she gestured to the ceiling laughing, "-it's all scrunched up at the top, like by a foot. We would have to put a dangly star ornament as a tree topper. The tree is actually bent over."

"Okay," he chuckled, "It might be a little bigger in this room than I thought it would be."

"Dean," she pointed to the tree, "there is actually a picture window behind that tree, but you can't tell because it's so…" she gestured her hands around.

"Fluffy?" Dean suggested.

Y/N giggled, "first of all, hearing you say the word fluffy, makes me laugh. Second, if we light a fire in the fireplace, that tree will go up in smoke."

"You know, Babe," Dean said, bumping her hip, wiggling his eyebrows, "fluffy could be our safe word."

"Really?" she questioned, rolling her eyes with a smile, "since when do we need a safe word? I don't need one. Do you need one?"

He pulled her into his arms, brushed her hair away from her face as he dragged his teeth along her jaw; he continued to kiss down her neck, his scruff marking her neck.

"Codeword," was her breathless response.

"Huh?" he pulled away looking at her.

With a smirk, she focused on his face. "Fluffy should be the code word to why we can't ever get anything done when you are here."

"That sounds like you're complaining."

"Uh...no that is not complaining, it is an observation." She flashed him her brightest smile as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Complaining would be bitching that I could sit in the kitchen; and hang ornaments on the tree." Dean took that moment to look at her, to appreciate the woman in his life. She made his heart sing whenever she was near. Not wanting to waste another second, he hauled her body to his, crushing his mouth to hers, swallowing the gasp of shock; taking the opportunity of her open mouth to deepen the kiss. His tongue dancing with hers, he moved his hand up, pulling off her knit hat and entangling his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull, pulling her closer as a moan rumbled through his chest. With her hands fisted in his jacket, they broke away, catching their breath. Her lips quirked up in a smile as she looked up at him.

"See?" she pointed out, "you distract me with all of your flannel lumberjackness."

He chucked, "Well, I did just chop down our first Christmas tree, even if we had to wait for Christmas Eve to do it."

"Hmm," she hummed, eyeing the tree out of the corner of her eye. "Do you need help with whatever we are doing with it?"

"Nah," he said, pulling his gloves out of his back pocket, "Sammy will be here soon, he can help me with it. I'm just going to drag it back outside".

"Hold on," she said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket, "let's take a picture in front of the tree first." They stood in front of the tree, as she snapped the selfie as they both wore matching cheesy grins.

Sam got to Y/N's bungalow just as Dean finished bringing the tree out the front door. They worked together to cut it down, shaking all the snow off before bringing it back into the house. Y/N was in the kitchen, pulling out the cornbread she made to serve with the chili that had been cooking all day in the crockpot. After they ate, Dean helped her get the ornaments out of the attic. She had already decorated the rest of the house weeks earlier but wanted to wait for him to get the tree. After dinner, Y/N turned on the Christmas music as she made hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps; she brought it into the living room, standing back to watch Sam and Dean pass the lights back and forth, wrapping the tree with them.

"Hey Babe," Dean looked back at her, motioning to the tree, "what do you think? Pretty great, huh?"

"It's beautiful," she smiled. "I made some hot chocolate," she gestured, holding up the Santa Claus mugs, "to drink while we hang ornaments." They both looked at her with matching scrunched noses and raised eyebrows.

Rolling her eyes, she held out the mugs, "Try it, before you start making those faces at me. "Have I ever made you anything you didn't like?”

"Butter beans," Dean mumbled.

Y/N exhaled a long breath. "Does it look like I'm trying to give you a mug of butter beans? Whatever-" she set the mugs on the coffee table, "you guys are missing out." With that, she wrapped her hands around her cup and took a long drink.

"Y/N, don't be mad," Sam said, picking up the mug. "I'm sure it's good hot chocolate." Taking a sip, his eyes grew large. "Damn, Y/N, these taste like Girl Scout cookies."

"What?" Dean questioned, picking up his mug, "I love Girl Scout cookies."

"No kidding." Y/N deadpanned.

Taking a swig, he licked his lips, "It tastes like the Thin Mints."

"You don't say," she said looking over the rim of her mug as she took another drink.

"Well, you didn't say you made hot chocolate that tastes like cookies."

"Anyway," she set her mug down, "I got you both something, I want you to open before we hang up ornaments.” She walked over to the fireplace decorated with pine garland, multiple sized white candles scattered over the entire mantle. Tucked in the corner, were two small gifts wrapped in white tissue paper. She handed Dean the one with the red ribbon and Sam the one with the green ribbon.

"Wait," Dean said, turning the small package in his hand, "Are we doing presents now?"

Y/N shook her head, "This is just a small thing I made for you guys, go on, open them."

She bit her lip as she watched them pull the ribbon and tear open the paper. Inside they each found an "S" and a "D," respectively made of thin wood with a ribbon attached at the top. On each was multiple pictures of themselves decoupaged on the letter.

"I forget how many pictures you take," Sam said, holding it up by the strip of cloth as he studied it, "it's an ornament, right?"

"It is," she smiled. "I wanted you each to have your very own ornament to hang on the tree too."

As Dean stared at the ornament, studying the pictures, he mumbled almost to himself, "I can't remember ever having my own ornament before."

Before she knew it, they had both engulfed her in a hug, squeezing her. "I. Can't. Breathe," came her muffled plea.

Sam stepped back, his hand rubbing her upper arm. "Thank you, Tink, this means so much."

Dean took the opportunity to pull her against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of her ear squeezing her just a little tighter "Babe, you have no idea how special this is.”

They turned the Christmas music up as they hung ornaments on the tree with a couple for refills of the spiked hot chocolate and the cookies she had made earlier. After they finished, Dean built a fire in the fireplace as Y/N put all of the presents under the tree. They sat around the living room, the only illumination from the tree and the fire. Dean settled in his "spot" on the couch, draping his arm over the back, Y/N lying next to him, with her toes tucked under his thigh. At this point, it was a habit; it's how they always sat there together.

Sam sat across from them on one of the comfy chairs. She shared stories of when she was a kid at Christmas, and Sam and Dean shared some stories of how they spent their holidays. She made them tell her a couple of stories twice. Her favorite was of them bursting into this Rent-a-Santa trailer because they thought he was murdering someone, but he was just smoking pot, getting drunk, and watching porn, so they sang Silent Night to get out of it.

Standing up, Sam stretched his arms over his head, yawning. "I'm going head to bed."

"Night Sammy," they said in unison.

Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head at them with a huff of laughter, "Yeah, see you two in the morning."

He made this way to the second bedroom of Y/N's bungalow. It was her office, but she had also made it into a guest room for him. He quietly closed the door, pulled off his clothes, folded them, and placed them on the chair. He pulled on his flannel sleep pants and a clean t-shirt. He slipped into the crisp sheets of his bed; he laced his fingers behind his head and settled into his pillow with a smile. He could hear the hum of voices from the living room as he let his mind wander.

Sam could see the changes in Dean since he met Y/N, especially when he was here. Dean was very tight-lipped about her unless it was just the two of them, but he could tell Dean was trying to put things in order. He knew he wasn't going to leave things unfinished. Now that Gabriel is back, it was just a matter of time before they could open the rift again to get Mom and Jack. After they were home safe, he knew Dean was going to walk away from hunting; his priorities had changed. It wasn't that Dean didn't want or think people needed saving; he was just tired.

Dean talked more to Sam about how he felt since Y/N came into their lives than all of the years before. There were little snippets here and there, but Sam paid attention. It was the little things that he said and, maybe louder, were the things he didn't. Sam knew Dean had sacrificed so much, had saved him so many times, hell, they both had, but this time he knew it was going to be for good. Once Dean walked away, he would never come back. That didn't make him angry, it scared him, if Dean wasn't there he had some big shoes to fill, Sam wasn't sure that he was good or strong enough to do what Dean has done for all of these years, but Sam was willing to try because after everything his brother had done for him, this was the thing he could do for Dean. Closing his eyes with a smile, he listened to the murmur of their voices and the soft sound of Christmas music as he fell asleep.

Standing up, Dean reached his hand out to Y/N, slipping her hand in his, he pulled her from the couch.

"Come on, Babe," he smiled as he led her in front of the fireplace, the twinkling lights from the tree bouncing around the room.

Dean pulled her to him, took her right hand in his and rested his hand at the small of Y/N's back. "Dancing with you, this is one of your favorite Christmas songs."

She tilted her head to listen, hearing Michael Bublé singing, "I'll Be Home For Christmas."

As he rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand, she smiled up at him as they moved around the living room.

"Dean, you hate dancing."

"But, you don't," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips, "besides, I don't hate dancing. How could I hate something that means I can have you right here in my arms."

It was in that moment that Y/N’s heart swelled, an overwhelming feeling of admiration and love for the man holding her flooded her soul. She pulled back slightly, capturing the look of his green eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I lo-” she began, her mouth snapping shut as her lips closed, heat creeping up her face as he raised his eyebrow. Her mouth hung agape for a second, as she tried to find the words to cover up her stumble. “I-I love this song, this time of year,” she stammered, lowering her eyes to fixate on the collar of his shirt. She reached up to start fixing it, “so, so much,” she finished in a mumble.

Dean slowed the dancing, his eyes not once moving from her face as she fumbled with the clothes he was wearing. He knew he needed to do something, they had been dancing around the ‘L’ word for months but this is the closest one of them had come to saying it. The silence in the air was palpable and Dean swallowed hard. Before he could even begin to take an action, Y/N cleared her throat.

“Anyway, I think that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard come out for your mouth,” she chuckled, her nerves engulfing her as she rested her forehead against his chest.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Eh, I've had better lines, and worse," he chuckled, deciding to let the near slip up slide.

"Great."

"Come on Babe, you know it's not like that anymore, I flirt if I need information, but that's it."

She lifted her head to look at him, "I'm not worried, Dean. We talk pretty much every night, and you come here every chance you can, even when you are all banged up after a job. I mean, I never thought I would learn how to stitch a person up." Rubbing her hand up and down his back she smiled. "The women don't concern me, they can't help themselves. I mean, look how they act around here, and I'm with you.”

"They are just trying to be helpful."

"Hmm," she hummed. "Yeah, they want to help you do something."

"It doesn't matter; I usually don't notice until you start laughing." He smirked

"Exactly! That's what makes it so funny. They are falling all over you, and you don't even notice. Then I start laughing because it is so obvious and that's when you start looking around. That's one of the reasons I know I have nothing to worry about. Women aren't my concern; it's your job." She ran the back of her fingers along his scruffy jaw, looking into his deep green eyes. "I can't imagine anyone is as good as you are; it just scares me sometimes. I know you went to Hell and the Mark of Cain, what if something happens like that again?"

He stopped swaying to the music as he captured her hand and held it against his face. "Y/N, I would be lying if I didn't say what we do isn't dangerous, I'm not going to blow smoke, but it isn't like it used to be, I know I have Sam, but now I also have you. I know what is important."

"Dean, what if you don't have a choice?"

"There is always a choice, Babe. Team Free Will and all, I'll be fine."

"Just come back to me, please don't make Sam have to make that phone call."

Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly. "Always Babe. I will always come back to you."

"You better," she sniffed.

"Hey," he chuckled "No, crying, it's Christmas."

"I'm not crying," she smiled through her tears, "I have allergies."

He wiped her tears with his fingers, then wiped them on his jeans. "You know we have danced to like three songs by now."

"Well, I guess that will at least get you to New Year's Eve" she laughed

They blew out the candles and tapped down the fire, leaving the tree lights on and headed to bed. Dean stripped down to his boxers, and Y/N changed into a t-shirt with her boy shorts. Crawling under the covers, Dean turned off the bedside lamp and pulled her into his side, her head resting against his chest and listened to his heart's steady beat.

Dean blinked open his eyes as he found himself lying on his side, Y/N's back pressed against his chest, his arm draped around her waist. He breathed deep, his nose ghosting her exposed neck. Then she did it again, she began to push against him, and grind into him in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his erection pressing against her, inflaming his need. He pulled her body tighter against him as he rubbed his hardness against her, eliciting another moan from Y/N. She woke up and turned her head to him with a sleepy smile before he captured her lips with a deep kiss. Rolling her on her back, he began to kiss down her neck, his shirt that she had claimed from him months ago in his way. Sitting back on his heels between her legs, he grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and unceremoniously yanked it off and threw it on the floor. She had gotten him so worked up that he was on a mission. Running his hands up her thigh, he settled his fingers in the crease of her legs, his thumbs brushing against the material of her boy shorts. A gasp escaped her lips as his thumbs continued to rub her through the cloth.

"It looks like I wasn't the only one getting worked up this morning," he grinned. Y/N tried to move closer, but he held her in place. He leaned down, ran his tongue alongside the band of her underwear, pulling a whimper from her as her hips involuntarily bucked.

"Dean," she whined, "stop teasing and get moving, I'm about to lose my damn mind here.”

He pulled off her underwear in one swift move. As his eyes focused on her hip, he stopped moving; an eerie growl rumbling through his chest. Mesmerized, his fingertips reached out, tracing the ink there. The tattoo is the size of his fist and is an anti possession matching the one on his chest; his eyes snapped to hers as he sees a vulnerability in her as she watches him, the need to protect her exploding inside of him.

"When did you do this?" he rasps.

"Sam helped me two weeks ago," she whispered, now not so sure by the look on his face that she had done the right thing.

"Why?" he croaked.

"Because you were worried about me, and-" she stuttered, "-and I thought if I did this, you wouldn't be as stressed out."

His heart beat hard in his chest as his vision danced between her new ink and her eyes. Y/E/C orbs that were clearly showing Dean her raw feelings for him. It was then that he questioned why it took him so long to tell her how he felt, always running away from others who tried to share their heart with him. Yet maybe it was because Dean was always running to her, even before he even knew she existed. As he ran his thumb over her hip, he knew he needed to tell her; he had to, his chest ached at the thought he had kept those words to himself for so long. A slow, peaceful grin spread across his face he laid down next to her, pulling her into his arms. She slowly brushed her finger over the tattoo on his chest.

"Dean?" she questions with an anxious tone, her heart sinking, afraid that she had gotten it all wrong.

He swallows a lump in his throat as the words his heart demands that he speak, wage war within him. What if in telling Y/N, the forces outside his control tear her away from him? But, if he doesn't tell her soon, will she walk away with the belief that none of this was real?

He brushes her hair away from her face as he cups her cheek, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes are glassy as she blinks back at him; she feels lost. Usually, she is strong and fierce, but she feels on the verge of despair right now. Smiling softly, he tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I want you to be safe; I need you to be, you to know you can always count on me.”

"You can count on me too, Dean, always."

He nodded his head, his smile never wavering, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he pulled back.

"I love you, Y/N.” His words whispered against her skin, “I've loved you for so long that it's hard for me to remember when I didn't. You have changed my life in ways I didn't think were possible." He pulled in a shaky breath, feeling the weight lifting off his shoulders as he found the courage to tell her. "I want you to know that I am all in Babe, I want it all with you."

A sound between a sob and a laugh escapes her lips, tears roll down her face, but the smile she gives him is like the brightest sun in a clear blue sky. He looked down to notice the pure joy radiating from her.

Bringing her hand to his cheek, she tries to speak, her throat clogged with emotion. "I love you too, Dean. Oh my God-" she laughs, “you have no idea”

He rested his forehead against hers, voice cracking, "I love you so fucking much, Babe."

He pressed his lips softly to Y/N's before deepening the kiss. He urged her back onto the mattress, holding his weight above her on his elbows just as a loud banging sounded on the wooden bedroom door, shaking it in its frame. Breaking the kiss, he looks towards the door, "Sam; I swear to God-"

"-get your asses up," Sam calls through the door. "It's Christmas, and we have presents to open."

"Sam!" he barks, "Not now."

He can hear Sam's laughter through the door while Y/N is chuckling underneath him.

Turning back to her, a quirk to his lips, he whispered huskily, "We were having a moment here."

"He has radar remember," she giggles a little louder.

The pounding on the door begins again, "Let's go!"

“We will be out in a minute!" Dean snaps.

"I don't believe you," Sam continues to bang on the door with his fist. Consistent, not stopping.

Dean moves off the bed jerking his jeans up off the floor, tugging them on as Y/N scrambles to pull on her shorts and t-shirt. Storming over to the door, Dean grabs the doorknob and whips the door open.

"Dude," he snarls.

"Morning," Sam smiles, taking a drink of his mug of coffee, "you guys up?"

Dean looks incredulously at his brother, "You're kidding me right now?"

A burst of laughter comes from behind him as Y/N tries to squeeze her way through the doorway, pausing to plant a kiss between Dean's shoulder blades. "Come on, let's get some coffee and I'll put the cinnamon rolls in the oven," she says, speaking against his naked back.

"Oh, good," Sam chuckles, stepping back, "I'm starving."

Walking back in the room, Dean grabs his shirt pulling it over his head, mumbling, "I hope you choke on them, Sammy, I hope you choke."

Standing around the island, they each had their second mug of coffee in their hand, the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls drifting through the kitchen.

"Hmm," Y/N hummed, "You know what sounds good with cinnamon rolls."

"Bacon," Dean announced.

"Exactly," she smiled, setting down her coffee, making her way to the door, "I think I have some in the garage freezer. Let me go check."

Sam shook his head at Dean, "Dude; I think you broke Tink."

"Huh?"

"I think you broke her. When we first met her, she made egg white omelets with spinach and mushrooms and now-" Sam gestured to the garage, "-she is making bacon and cinnamon rolls."

Making his way to the coffee machine, he points his mug at Sam. "First, I'd like to think that I helped her, but honestly, I think she still eats that crap when I'm not here."

"Oh, you mean healthy."

"Whatever," he visibly shivered.

"Maybe she will bring you over to the light side yet."

"Sammy, vegetables are the work of the devil, I'm not doing it."

Sipping his coffee, he smiled, "We'll see."

Glancing at the garage door, he looked back, catching Sam's eye. "Hey, I owe you one, man."

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/N, you helped her, you know with the-" he motioned to his hip, "anti-possession tat."

"You know, it was her idea," he shrugged. "She was a champ too, she barely flinched."

"Yeah," Dean smiled, "my girl is a lot tougher than she looks."

"Tink has to be," his brother smirked, "to put up with your shit."

"Really, Sam?"

"I'm just saying." He gestured to Dean

"Well, Sammy, that door swings both ways," he smirked, "speaking as someone who has been stuck in the car with you."

Sam opened his mouth to reply when Y/N burst through the door, waving a large package of bacon in her hand, the garage's frozen air following her.

"Found it," she announced, "and it's fucking cold out there."

Peering out the sliding glass door Dean took in the expanse of snow-covered tundra, "Damn, I think it snowed a foot last night."

"Just in time for Christmas," she smiled.

She put the bacon on a cookie sheet and slid it into the oven. Dean made her a fresh coffee, and she set the timer as they made their way to the living room to gather around the tree. Dean announced that he was going to be "Santa Claus" and hand out all the presents. The three of them sat on the floor as he began to hand them out. Y/N's heart felt very full as she watched the two brothers' faces light up with sheer delight. The anticipation of having a real Christmas with all of the festivities, to include presents under the tree that didn't come from the corner gas station.

Sam was the first to open his gift from Y/N; wrapped in a Christmas paper of Santa and Rudolph taking selfies. Pulling the paper and red ribbon off, it revealed a laptop zipper sleeve printed with a multitude of pictures, flipping it over in his hand; there were pictures of him, Dean, Bobby, Cas, Jack, Mary, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Patience, and Garth.

"This is amazing, where did you get all of these pictures?" he asked in awe.

Y/N grinned, "Jody helped me with the pictures, then I put them all together and printed on the laptop cover."

Pointing to the gift in Dean's lap she said, "open yours next." He pulled the green ribbon on the paper covered with muscle cars decorated with Christmas lights. He ripped the covering, and flipped open the box. Lifting the tissue paper he stared at the object inside.

"Babe," he choked, emotions clogging his throat.

"What did you get?" Sam questioned as he attempted to peer over the box lid

"Do you like it?" she whispered.

He leaned over, sweetly kissed her, and sat back, he pulled the picture frame out of the tissue paper, turning to show it to his brother. It was the picture of Dean and Mary, she was standing behind him, with her arm around him. The photograph had been restored and framed in a black frame. Instead of putting it back in the box to take back to the bunker, he stood up and walked to the long entertainment stand where Y/N had lots of pictures of her and Dean displayed; he moved some other frames around placing the one of he and Mary among them. Y/N blinked back tears because she knew that if he set the frame up here, he must consider being here his home. Walking back to his seat on the floor, he pointed to one of the presents in Y/N's lap.

"Babe, open the one from me next."

She picked up the small one wrapped in brown kraft paper with a smiley face with a Santa hat drawn on it. She started to pick the tape, careful not to rip the paper.

"Y/N, just rip it open," Dean groaned

Squinting her eyes with a sly smile, she said, "I'm trying to save the paper."

"Well, just hurry up," he grumbled as Sam laughed at his impatience.

She pulled out the small box and opened the lid to reveal a plain black leather necklace with a silver clasp. Dean watched her closely as she pulled the jewelry out of the box; she saw a delicate metallic charm. Cupping it in her palm, she stared at it, the tears that she had blinked away moments ago quietly ran down her cheeks. It was a gorgeous pendant with her and Dean's initials intertwined.

"This is so beautiful, did you make this?" she breathed.

"I did," he announced proudly.

She stood up, holding the necklace out to him, "can you put it on me?"

He took the necklace from her as she turned around, lifting her hair. He placed the jewelry around her neck and clasped it; Dean kissing the skin where the clasp had settled.

Turning around she wrapped her arms around him, “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

Dean groaned as he crushed her against him, capturing her lips with his, instantly deepening the kiss as she clung to him.

As Sam cleared his throat, Dean pressed her closer with one hand as he held a finger out to his brother, telling him to wait a minute. As they broke apart a little breathless, Dean cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, he looked into her eyes as she stared into his deepening green ones.

"I love you, Babe."

A crash came from the kitchen as they stepped away from each other.

"Oops...Sorry!" Sam called, "the timer went off, and I was getting the bacon and cinnamon rolls, while you two were," he waved towards them, "you know."

Y/N's face began to heat as she remembered that Sam was in the room, and she was so into the kiss she didn't even hear the timer. She quickly gathered the paper plates with poinsettias and started to serve the food. She handed Dean’s to him first, and he made his way back out into the living room. As she gave Sam his he held her hand so that she would look at him.

"Tink," he murmured, catching her eye. As she looked up at him, he smiled, "You are the best thing that has ever happened to my brother. You have shown him there is more to life than what he has ever had and you truly love him despite all of the shit in our lives, thank you."

The smile radiating from her face confirmed to Sam one of the many reasons his brother loved this girl so much.

"Come on!" Dean yelled from the other room, his mouth full of food. "Let's open the rest of these presents!"

Making their way back in, they began opening the rest. Sam got Y/N a new leather portfolio to display her photographs for presentations and when she opened it up, on the inside left corner was a little embroidered Tinkerbell with her magic wand. Two of the remaining presents were identical packages wrapped in Elvis wrapping paper for the brothers. Dean opened his gift to find a Led Zeppelin box set. Sam began to open his to find a Celine Dion box set.

"I don't understand," Sam shook his head brows knitted, "I don't even like-"

"-lies!" Dean cackled, Y/N's laughter joining his.

"Fine," Sam's lips quirked. "Can we please keep it between the three of us now since Dean doesn't know how to keep a secret."

Y/N put her hand up, still giggling. "I swear if anyone asks me, I will say your favorite singer is Elvis."

"You two suck," he grimaced. "I mean I love it, but you still suck, you have the weirdest sense of humor."

His announcement was met with thundering laughter.

The rest of the day was followed by watching Christmas movies and eating a ham dinner with all the delicious sides. Y/N packed everything in containers to go after that had eaten because she knew that they were leaving early the next morning. Sam went to bed first with the excuse that he knew they had a long day tomorrow.

Dean sat on the corner of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist lost in the thoughts of their next steps to open the rift to get out Mary and Jack.

Y/N walked in, closing the door behind her. The towel was gripped to her chest as damp hair cascaded down her back. She regarded him as he was staring at the floor, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was almost dry from the shower as she watched the muscles roll in his back. Tilting his head up to look at her she could see the sadness he had hidden from her all day in his eyes. Moving over to him, he sat up and pulled her between his knees. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against her chest, taking comfort in her heart's steady beat. Drawing him closer, she ran her fingers through his hair in an effort to ease his burden.

Y/N broke the silence with a whisper, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Nuzzling into her, he shook his head slightly, "We have talked too much about it, tomorrow is when we put it all into action. I just want to enjoy tonight with you."

"Whatever you need, Dean."

He lifted his head, looking up at her, he had a way of seeing right into her soul with just a look that always took her breath away.

"I need you," he rasped.

She bent to brush her lips to his; Dean swiftly took the lead. Hooking his finger at the edge of her towel, it dropped to the floor as he deepened the kiss. Dean flipped his towel open scooting back further on the bed, pulling Y/N with him, she straddled his hips. He pulled back, his eyes meeting hers in a silent question. She nodded her head once before he drove up into her, their moans muffled by their open mouth kisses. Her forearms rested on his shoulders as her hands fisted in his hair. Dean's hands were gripping her hips, one palm covering her new tattoo, fingertips digging in as they moved together at a reckless pace.

It wasn't about making love or marathon sessions; this was about dampening the fire in both of them. They were both worried about what tomorrow was going to bring, and this was the way they would connect without words. Quiet, fast, and hot is what was required. Dean could feel the tightening in his spine and knew he was close, but he knew Y/N needed a little more, sliding his hand between them he used his thumb to brush against the bundle of nerves and with a gasp she threw her head back. His lips moved along her neck, marking her at the spot between her neck and collarbone.

She whined his name, letting him know she was close, he sucked a little harder on her throat as he used a bit more pressure with his thumb. She broke apart in his arms as he felt her flutter around him, he drove into her a few more times before he found his release. Still buried inside Y/N, he held her trembling body, his head resting against her shoulder as they caught their breath.

"I didn't realize how much I needed that," she huffed, shakily.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "I guess I didn't either." He helped her stand up before they both moved to each side of the bed and crawled between the sheets. Y/N lay on her back with closed eyes as Dean lay next to her, his head propped on his elbow looking down at the woman he loved. The necklace he made her settled against her skin, slightly past her collarbones. With his finger, he lightly traced the intertwined initials. Y/N didn't open her eyes, but a soft smile played on her lips. She sighed his name in her blissful state. Leaning down, he gave her a sweet kiss.

"Thank you for everything today."

Cracking one eye open, she whispered, "This was the best Christmas I have ever had, we will be telling these stories forever."

"You're right," he agreed, as he laid his head on the pillow and pulled her against him as they fell into a peaceful sleep.

Dean crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Y/N. It was still dark out, and he and Sam had to get on the road. He got dressed without the benefit of a light. Walking over to Y/N, curled up under the covers, he stood and watched her for a moment, emotions swirling through him. He brushed her hair back from her face.

He bent and kissed her on the temple as he murmured, "I love you, Babe, always."

He made his way out to Baby, where Sam was waiting, throwing his bag in the back seat. He slid into the driver's side, placing his hands on the steering wheel, his mouth set in a firm line. Sam started to speak, but Dean shook his head.

"Sammy," he grumbled, "just give me until we get out of town, and then we can talk about whatever you want," he glanced at him and added, "within reason."

He cranked the ignition and slowly started to back out of the driveway. He stopped at the end and looked at the little bungalow. The Christmas lights that he had helped Y/N hang up after Thanksgiving twinkled in the dark, bouncing off the snow. He could see the sparkle of the tree through the front window. He pressed that picture in his memory; Dean didn't know when he would be back this time. This house and the memory of his girl looking at him pure love were the two things he would keep close to get him through until he could return. He pulled out onto the street and headed out of town to meet with Rowena and Gabriel. The only noise in the car was Baby's powerful engine growling through the early morning light.

Chapter 11

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