#Sam: you could’ve just asked me for attention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b0ng05 · 2 months

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Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader:

Injured

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Word Count: 1937

Summary: Sam broke her foot at the gym, and her loving girlfriend is there to dote on her

!MDI 18+! SMUT

Also, Not Proofread💅

Master list/ Request list

I hold in a laugh as I walk into Sam and I’s apartment, on the couch sat Sam with her casted foot propped up on a pillow on the coffee table. She wore an annoyed yet pouting look, her bottom lip jutted out a bit and her brows furrowed in frustration of her situation. Her arms crossed, making her muscles bulk out a bit more.

“Hey honey, how are you?” I ask, trying to stifle a small giggle at her expression.

I make my way over to the couch to sit next to her, kissing her cheek softly.

“About as good as I can be after dropping a weight on my foot.” Sam grumbles as she stares at the tv, which was playing an episode of Survivor.

“You should’ve been more careful,” I say, cringing after I see the glare she gave me.

“I am careful…” Sam mumbles, wrapping her arm around my shoulder before slyly flicking my arm with the same hand.

“How bad did you break your foot?” I ask, curling up to her side.

“An acute metatarsal fracture. Doctor said it might take weeks or months to heal, all I know is I want this damn cast off.” Sam remarked, her hand softly rubbing over the spot she flicked.

“How did you even drop a weight on your foot?” I ask, stroking her hair back out of her face.

“I was trying to swap weights on the benchpress, it just slipped out of my hands I guess,” She mumbles, a bit embarrassed.

“It’s alright, just means I get more attention cause you can barely workout now,” I tease with a playful smile as I lean up to kiss her jaw.

“I see how it is, you enjoy my pain, huh?” Sam jokes with a squinting stare.

“Kiss me and find out?” I joke with a teasing smirk.

“And how exactly would that help me-” Before Sam can finish her sentence, I steal a small kiss, teasingly biting her lip as I pull away before looking at her with a mischievous grin.

“That did actually help, maybe a few more,” Sam teases with a playful smirk, tapping her lips with her pointer finger.

I giggle and lean up again, our lips locking in a soft, slow, sweet, and loving kiss. My hand moves to run through her long dark hair gently as hers move to softly rub my waist with her thumbs.

“So how exactly did you get to the hospital, and then back home…?” I inquire after our lips part.

“... I had to call Tara. It was a harrowing process.” Sam states, slightly cringing at the memory of her with her arm wrapped around Tara’s shoulder as Tara tried to help her walk in and out of the buildings. The total process took them hours due to Tara being significantly shorter than Sam.

“Could’ve been worse,” I try to reassure with an amused smile.

“How? Tara almost fell over trying to help me, 4 times,” Sam scoffs trying to stifle a laugh at her own comment.

“She did her best.” I say trying to hold a straight face as a grin itches the corner of my lips.

“That she did.” Sam grins with a chuckle as she leans over to kiss my cheek.

“I love you.” I say, with a smile as I kiss her cheek in return.

“I love you too. Now, since I’m kind of working with one foot, can you get me water?” Sam asks with a cheesy but charming grin.

“You’re lucky you have a cute face.” I tease as I stand up to grab her water, only for her to lightly slap my butt once I’m up.

“And you have a cute butt,” Sam teases back with a mischievous grin.

“Oh hush,” I laugh as I walk to the kitchen to go fill up a water bottle for Sam.

Once I come back and hand her the water bottle, she takes a sip and puts it on the end table next to her before pulling me back into her arms.

"So how was Tara?” I ask with a smile as I snuggle up to her.

“She was kinda busy cracking jokes about me breaking my foot, for me to have asked her,” Sam grins at the thought of her sister, despite the fact the girl started playing Big Foot by Nicki Minaj when Sam got in her car to go to the hospital, and the fact that Tara played it just to mischievously look at Sam and sing, “The bitch fell off, I said “Get up on your good foot!”

“Sounds about right,” I let out a small giggle as I poke the tip of her nose.

“Y’know usually people dote on the injured, but you and Tara are relentless, I bet you guys would hit someone with glasses on.” Sam playfully glares at me, before poking my nose back.

“Maybe I would, my hands are rated E for everyone,” I joke.

“Knew it,” Sam laughs before leaning down to kiss me.

I kiss back, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss. I could feel my heart swell and butterflies fluttering my stomach. Her soft lips parting as her tongue grazes my lip, I give her access. Our tongues meet in passionate dance. Sam’s hands move to my waist as mine move around the back of her neck, my nails delicately trailing up and down the back of her neck, causing a small but noticeable shiver to run up Sam’s spine. She leans in more, pulling me closer as we kiss.

As we make out, Sam moves her feet off of the coffee table, gently trying to lay me back on the couch, but as she goes to crawl on top of me I hear a small thump, she pulls back out of the kiss quickly. She bites down hard on her fist, stilling for a moment in pain.

“Sam? You okay, baby?” I ask worriedly as I caress her arm softly.

“I just smacked my foot so hard on the armrest.” Sam groans as she moves to cradle her casted foot, her face scrunched in pain and annoyance.

“Oh you poor baby,” I say trying to hold back a small giggle as I cradle her head against my chest and kiss her forehead.

“Don’t mock me in my time of need,” Sam jokes as she pokes my side making me giggle.

“Oh and what type of need is that?” I tease as I move to lift Sam’s legs onto the couch, making her look at me with a blush.

“Oh shut up,” Sam says with a blush.

I giggle and move to lay between Sam’s legs, being extra cautious of her casted foot. I caress her cheek before kissing her again, igniting our heated makeout session once more. I move to kiss down her jaw, down to her neck. I kiss her neck, my tongue softly running over her pulse point before sucking down on it, forming a dark hickey. Sam’s hands move, one threading through my hair bringing me closer, the other resting on my butt with a teasing grip.

I sit up, my hands grasping the hem of her shirt and gently tugging it off of her before leaning back down to start kissing along her collarbone, trailing my tongue along it delicately, causing Sam to let out a soft almost inaudible whimper. She holds me tighter as I kiss down to her chest, tugging her black sports bra over her head before I begin to give attention to her breasts. My hand teasing and rolling over the nub on one of her breasts, my mouth occupying the other, as Sam breathing begins to pick up. Her eyes fluttering shut as she relishes in the pleasure emitted from the action.

“Baby~” Sam moans softly, her hand resting in my hair.

I smirk as I begin to kiss down her stomach, my hand moving to softly rub her hip as I kiss just above her waistband of her sweatpants. My other hand moves to untie the strings of her pants before tugging the soft plush down her legs, being cautious of her injury. I smirk at the sight before me, her panties were slightly soaked with her wetness. I pull them off, not wasting any time. I lay back between her legs, pressing kisses to her inner thighs as I watch her grow more flustered, Sam was normally in control in our more intimate moments, so this made her feel extra vulnerable. I lift her legs over my shoulders gently before I lean in and lick up her wet slit slowly, watching her mouth open in pleasure as a shaky breath leaves her plump lips. I moan against her wet cunt, making her moan a bit louder, her hands tangling in my hair to pull me closer to where she needs me.

“Fuck, babe~” Sam whines as she bites her bottom lip.

I swirl my tongue around her clit, my eyes gazing up at her as I watch her face contort in pleasure. I thrust my tongue inside of her, my thumb moving to rub her clit to match the pace of my tongue which was teasing her with a slow pace.

“Faster~” Sam bites her lip as her head leans back onto the couch.

I add a bit of haste to my actions. My other hand moves to hold down her waist as her hips begin to buck and grind against my mouth. Her moans echo out as I continue to eat her out. I move back to suck her clit as my finger moves to tease at her entrance, her wetness so prominent that it slipped in with ease.

“Please, I’m getting close,” Sam mumbles through strung out moans.

She moans louder, her chest heaving as her pleasure starts to build up. Her hand grips the edge of the couch, the other tugging my hair as she gets closer. I slip in another finger, going a bit faster as I feel her pulsing around my fingers. I let her grind her hips against my mouth as she chases her high. She cums around my fingers with a loud moan of my name. I let her ride out her high until her thighs twitch from sensitivity. I carefully take her legs off of my shoulders as I lick her juices off of my fingers. Sam stiffles a moan at the sight as she pulls me down for a kiss.

The kiss is soft and loving, her hands caressing my cheeks delicately. As we pull away, I lean my forehead against hers, closing my eyes.

“I love you, Sammy,” I whisper softly with a smile.

“I love you too,” She replies after she catches her breath, looking at me with utmost love.

I smile and peck her lips before getting up to go get a rag to clean her up and to go get her different panties, considering the soaked state of her ones on the floor. When I return, she’s attempting to hobble off of the couch to come find me, unsurprisingly without her crutches.

“Sam!” I scold as I rush over to help her sit back down.

“Am I not allowed to get up now?” Sam playfully sighs as she sits down, not resisting it.

“Not without your crutches,” I smile, kissing her cheek.

I clean her up with the rag, and then help her back into her panties and sweatpants.

“Now this is what I call properly doting on the injured,” Sam teases, with a cheeky smirk before pulling me back into her arms as I giggle.

#sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter smut

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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buck x reader where bucky is sad cuz he can't date nat and when frnd!reader asks him out he says yes even tho hes still in love/has a crush on nat, but when r asks he lies n says tht he's not n that hes just "protectivE" of her. later he gets drunk or maybe hes jus rly pissed off after something happens n when r tries to help him he gets angry and tells her that she's clingy n annoying n that he only dated her cuz he couldn't be w nat n that he almost says her name durin sex smtimes. you can escalate from there!1 love ur works sm btw, hope u hav a good dayy!!

okay, I'm hoping this is good! If not, I do apologise.

summary - bucky agrees to date you because natasha is already taken, how long can he pretend before he snaps?

warning - angst, swearing, unrequited love, near abuse but is stopped.

the gif I use isn't mine, dividers by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

You smiled as Natasha encouraged you to ask out your long-time crush Bucky Barnes. You always thought he was into her, but then he started paying more attention to you. You decided to head over to Bucky when Sam came to collect Nat, his arms wrapped around her waist as he kissed softly on her temple. You smiled at the affection and love the two have for each other, hoping you’ll have that.

“Hi, Bucky!” You grin, waving slightly as you stop in front of him. You could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat when he looked up at you.

“Oh, hi, Y/n” He gives you a tight smile, watching as he continues to look back at Sam and Nat. You feel your nerves get the best of you as you fiddle with your fingers.

“I wanted to ask… Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Bucky shrugs. “Sure.” You’re too happy to see how uninterested he is, wishing him goodbye before skipping away to your room.

It’s been a few months since you and Bucky started dating. At first, you were ecstatic. You thought he was really into you until you noticed how he acted around Nat. You walked into the room and watched him watch her and Sam for a while.

Walking closer, you sit next to him. Feeling your heart crack a bit when he scoots away from you. “Buck…” He hums, not even taking his eyes off her. “Do you still have feelings for Nat?”

Bucky’s head whips around, looking at you like you grew three heads. “What? No! What kind of question is that?”

You look down as you play with the end of your shirt. “It’s just… You’re always talking about her or looking at her, and I just thought….”

“Jesus Christ, Y/n! I’m just protective of her. Stop being so insecure.” And with that, he stands and walks off. Leaving you to feel like shit, not noticing Nat and Sam looking at you with pity from across the room.

It had been a few days since Bucky snapped at you, and he’s become distant. You're currently sitting on your bed, feeling tired. You flip through a book you’ve been meaning to read but can never find the time. You’re interrupted by a knock at the door causing you to get up and head over.

When you open it, you’re met with Steve holding a very drunk Bucky. “I didn’t know where else to take him… Please be careful. He’s acting a bit off today.” Steve looks at you sheepishly. You smile softly, taking your drunken boyfriend off his hands, thanking him and closing the door.

“C’mon, Bucky, let’s get you to bed.” A whimper leaves you as Bucky pushes you off him, turning around and glaring at you.

“Jesus fuck! Why the fuck are you always so fucking clingy? Do you know how fucking annoying it is to always have you near me or talking to me?!” You blink, too shocked to move as he explodes. “Fucking hell! I didn’t even want to fucking be with you! Why would I want someone like you when someone like Natasha exists?!” Bucky stalks closer to you, and you quickly take steps back until you are pushed against the wall. “I only fucking said yes to you because Sam fucking took her from me!”

“B–but”

“But what?! Did you think that I could love you, YOU?!” Bucky’s metal fist flies to the wall beside your head, causing a dent. “You’ve never even questioned me, always requesting to fuck you from behind! Is it because deep down you knew that I secretly wished it was her?! That her name nearly slips from my mouth when I’m balls deep inside you!”

You take a shaky breath, feeling tears roll down your face, but you’re too numb to move. Bucky's fist lifts, and you flinch, thinking he will hit you. You squeeze your eyes shut, only opening them when you hear someone yelling.

Your eyes widen when you see Steve tackling Bucky, holding him down as he screams to let him go and how much he hates you. Steve turns to you and feels his heartbreak at the terrified look in your eyes. “I got him. Go to my room. I’ll be there soon.”

You take off, heading straight to Steve’s room and throwing yourself into his bed. You bury your face into his pillows, crying into it before falling asleep.

Steve enters his room, looking at you sadly before he crawls in behind you. His heart skips as your body curls into him. He wraps his arm around you and holds you close as he falls asleep.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 2

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duuhrayliegh · 2 years

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what’s it like

a/n: idk what this is, it’s smut but it was written in pieces and idk if it’s any good, sorry y’all i’m all over the fucking place rn

@slutforsexyseabass

check out my other writings (more coherent writings)

Red wine flowed from your glass into your mouth, swirling enticingly as you gulped down the sweet liquid. You followed the pleasant burn of it as it slipped down your throat.

“I’m not kidding.” Natasha leaned forward, topping off her own glass with more of Tony’s expensive wine.

“And he just kept going?” Wanda’s mouth dropped open as Natasha giggled while nodding in ascent to her question.

“Had my legs shaking, I swear.” She held up three fingers, “Scout’s honor.”

You laughed, digging your hand into the bowl of Cheetos tucked between your legs. Wanda shook her head, seemingly not believing what Natasha was telling her.

“I didn’t know that Sam had it in him.”

“Wan,” Natasha’s hand landed on Wanda’s knee, “Neither did I. It was almost too much, almost.”

Her voice dropped an octave on the final word, waggling a perfectly sculpted brow at her gaping teammate.

“What?” Natasha stole a few chips from your bowl as she questioned Wanda. “You’ve never had that kind of experience?”

“Mm,” you mumbled behind a mask of Cheetos, “yeah, how’s that work with Vision? I mean, it’s not like he has a—”

“Ah, bup bup.” Wanda cut you off quickly, “Vision knows everything, so he’s very skilled. Apparently not as skilled as Sam, but I mean he’s still learning so…”

Wanda let the statement hang, clinking the body of her glass with Natasha’s. She turned her attention your way, clearly readying herself to ask you a question.

“Well, it’s late, ladies.” They both began to protest, but you simply waved off their remarks. “No, no. I’ve got to get up and, like, be productive tomorrow. Sorry, loves.”

You tapped them both on the shoulders as you passed, dropping your glass off in the sink on your way out of the living room. There wasn’t a single thing that either of them could’ve said to keep you there any longer. Not if that was the topic of conversation. The ‘that’ being sex, of course, because it’s hard to talk about something that you’ve never experienced before.

You trudged back to your room, two floors above the common room. Deciding that you were too lazy to take the stairs, you pushed the button for the private elevators. The ones that Tony made specifically to avoid the other SHIELD agents who worked at the tower on a regular basis.

The railing of the elevator held your weight as it made its climb up the floors. Your eyes slid closed, mind running back to the conversation that you were just a privileged party of. You couldn’t even think of the last time someone took a particular interest in you, much less left you with your legs shaking.

The elevator slowed to a halt, doors opening to reveal a flushed looking Sergeant, your favorite Sergeant. Bucky smiled at you before wiping his brow with the towel that hung over his shoulder. You weren’t particularly good friends with the Sergeant. Not by choice. Honestly, if you had it your way then you two would converse freely, without the worry of judgment by either party.

As you began to prepare yourself for an awkwardly silent ascent alongside Bucky, a hand forced its way into the closing elevator doors. Sam shot a look at Bucky before speaking.

“Dude, I told you to wait for me.”

“You were taking too damn long.”

You snorted, remembering Natasha saying quite the opposite of him. Bucky furrowed his brows at the noise you made, clearly not caring enough to make him question you, though.

“I was not taking too long.” He shifted his bag to his other shoulder as the elevator began to climb again. “I’m just movin’ a bit slower today.”

Bucky grunted, a sound Sam took as a question.

“Super fucking sore from my mission the other day.”

A singular loud laugh escaped your lips, making you slap your hand over your mouth as both men turned to look at you.

“Something amusing, Y/N?”

You looked at your feet, giggling as the doors opened onto the floor your room was on. You slapped Sam’s shoulder as you passed.

“It’s just funny. Natasha was saying something about being sore earlier, as well.”

Sam’s jaw dropped as Bucky whipped his head around to face his friend, eyes wide in shock. You watched as Bucky punched Sam’s bicep before stepping out of the elevator too. He muttered under his breath as he walked to his own room.

“Sore from a mission, my ass.”

No matter how hard Bucky tried, he always got up with the sun. He would love to be someone who could sleep in until the later hours of the morning. He typically found himself lying in bed a few extra minutes, delaying his daily routine as long as he could.

This particular morning it was easier. He had something to think about. Usually, he would be laying there with no thoughts in his head other than the seemingly endless list of names that he needed to make amends with. No, this morning was different.

He was thinking of that damn elevator ride last night. He was kicking himself for not making conversation with Y/N for one floor. With his eyes closed he could recall you perfectly. He thought of the rosy tint to your cheeks and the subtle scent of Tony’s plum wine on your breath. Then he remembered you pushed through him and Sam, your chest just barely grazing the metal of his left arm. The nerve endings that Shuri created for the limb allowing him to feel your nipples through the fabric of your t-shirt.

Great, now he had to deal with his hard-on before he could do anything else.

Bucky couldn’t think straight around you, so he just stayed silent. Not wanting you to see him as a fool, opting for you to think he was standoffish so he could admire you from a safe distance. That’s where he belonged anyway. A safe distance from you. He knows that a relationship would never be something you consider with him. He’s a 106-year-old man for Christ’s sake, what would a twenty-something year-old woman want with him?

He untwisted the lid of his protein container, adding the proper amount to his shaker bottle before dumping the scoop back into the protein jar. He shoved the container into the cabinet on the top shelf, turning back to find you walking into the kitchen. His eyes roamed your figure before stopping dead in his tracks as he registered what you were wearing.

His favorite red henley covered your body, stopping just below your ass cheeks, giving him the show that he didn’t know he needed until this very moment. Your socked feet padded along the kitchen tiles as you gathered the ingredients for what looked like pancakes.

“You going to work out this morning or do you want some pancakes?” You pushed the question out through a yawn. Your eyes closed with the motion, allowing Bucky the opportunity to watch as your nose wrinkled. The freckles decorating your face begging to be traced with little, feather-light kisses.

Bucky watched as you stretched to reach a bowl in one of the high cabinets. Against his better judgment, his eyes dropped to the rising hem of his shirt, lifting just enough to expose the round globes of your ass. The seams of your underwear indented the plush flesh there, letting his mind run wild with the thought of digging his teeth into one of your cheeks.

He turned away from you, cock stirring in his shorts as he leaned his hands against the countertop in front of the sink. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves as he promptly dumped his protein shake down the drain.

“Yeah, I’ll take a few pancakes.” Bucky crossed the kitchen, opening the fridge to pour a glass of orange juice. By that time, you had set about mixing the batter together. Unfortunately, you were standing right in front of the cabinet containing the cups.

There were a few ways that Bucky could navigate this situation. One would be to ask you to hand him the cups from the cabinet directly above your head. The more dangerous option would be to move you himself. The latter offered him the opportunity to feel your supple form through the fabric of his fucking henley. He went with his initial gut reaction. Should he have? Probably not but fuck it.

His right hand cupped the skin of your hip, feeling the slight bulge of skin there. As Bucky leaned forward, he attempted to keep his lower half from pressing into you as much as he could. He truly didn’t want to push any boundaries with you, knowing that you were too damn young for him. That fact didn’t stop his body from reacting to your presence in the most agonizing fashions.

“You know,” his voice barely a whisper as he reached for the cups above your head, “I’ve been looking for that shirt.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your face before turning away from you with two cups in his grasp. He yanked the fridge door open to reach for the orange juice container.

“What’re you talking about?”

He could hear your exhaustion clinging to your words. He decided to push a bit further as he placed the now full glass beside the stove you were working at.

“The henley.” Bucky paused briefly, leaning against the granite countertop opposite you. “More specifically, my henley.”

His head tilted to the side as you dropped your chin against your chest, seemingly taking in the item of clothing on your body. Bucky smiled softly as the bun on top of your head flopped forward with the motion. You turned around to face him quickly, spatula in hand.

“I’m sorry.” He watched as you stuck your arm out, gesturing for him to take the utensil. “I’ll go change really quick. I thought it was Sam’s.”

Bucky stepped forward, his metal hand resting on your wrist and pushing it downwards.

“Would you leave it on if it was?”

He watched the split second of hesitation flash in your eyes.

“Probably.”

The word was paired with a slight shrug of your shoulder, and a dip in your mouth making your chin wrinkle in the most adorable way. God, he wanted to just hold your face in his hands and just stare into your eyes for as long as you would let him.

Bucky took another step forward, effectively pinning you against the countertop beside the stove. His eyes locked with yours as he leveled his face to yours. He glanced down at the red fabric covering your torso. He found his fingers bunching the middle of the fabric, pulling it away from your body to roll between his forefinger and thumb.

“Then it’s Sam’s.”

Bucky promptly dropped the fabric and walked away just after the words left his mouth. Again, should he have done that? Probably fucking not, but Bucky’s learned to let himself enjoy the little things in life. Like the way your thighs just clenched together at his close proximity to you.

You sat on the couch, a plush throw blanket covering your legs and a mug of steaming tea in your hand. You trailed your finger on the rim of the cup, mind running back to your latest interaction with Bucky. It wasn’t unusual for you to obsess over your own actions because you were always worried that the other person was going to think you were an asshole. It was rare that you focused so heavily on the actions of your conversation partner, but god damn.

Bucky fucking Barnes.

You might be a twenty-three-year-old virgin, but that man could get it if he wanted it. ‘It’ being your virginity. Any day of the week.

You knew you probably shouldn’t be having thoughts about a man who, for most of the time you’ve known him, has shown you little reason to believe that he was romantically interested in you. Or physically attracted to you, for that matter. Though, you couldn’t deny that you saw a flicker of something behind his eyes in the kitchen a few days back.

He was closer than usual, granting you the privilege of seeing the dark ring of blue circling his irises. You wondered what it would be like to watch his pupils dilate in reaction to something you did.

To watch the subtle twitch of his very controlled emotions because of you.

“Whatcha watchin’, doll?”

You jumped at his voice. The man that’s kept your mind captivated for the past week.

Bucky fucking Barnes.

He settled his large frame on the couch beside you, lifting your legs that were sprawled out on the cushions to sit underneath them. His metal hand laid on your knee above the blanket, but you could feel the palm of it burning your skin.

“I don’t think I’ve seen this one, yet.”

Your eyes never left Bucky’s profile, barely registering that he was still speaking to you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

He scooted closer to you, placing his flesh hand on your cheek before dragging it to your forehead. Bucky’s eyes ran over your face, worry dancing across his brow. You snapped from your trance, the back of his palm still pressed against your forehead.

“You run hotter than all of us. Do you think you’d be able to tell if I had a fever that way?”

It came out harsher than you wanted it to. Bucky didn’t seem bothered by your comment, pinning you with a lopsided grin that made your cheeks heat.

“My Ma always checked that way.” He jerked his head to the mounted TV, “Whatcha watchin’?”

“Nothing in particular. Do you want to watch something?”

Bucky shook his head, pulling out his phone and opening the notes app.

“I don’t know, Sam wrote down a bunch of stuff I should watch now that I’m ‘acclimated to society’ or some shit.” He handed you the device, “Anything look appealing to you?”

Yes, you look appealing to me.

“He wants you to watch a rom-com?”

“The fuck’s a rom-com?”

“It’s a romantic comedy.” You reached for the remote. “You okay with that?”

“As long as you pick a good one, dolly, I’m down for anything.” Bucky’s words made you flush, trying to concentrate on finding the movie you thought of.

About thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, you shifted causing the blanket to slip from your calves, exposing your painted toes. A chill ran up your spine at the sudden temperature change, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by your companion.

“What’s wrong?” His question was immediate.

You waved it off, “Nothing just a chill. Can you cover my feet, please?”

Bucky glanced at your bare feet. “You aren’t wearing socks. You always wear socks.”

The movie was still playing in the background, but you were fully focused on the words leaving Bucky’s mouth.

“I don’t always wear socks.” You stressed the ‘always’ sarcastically because you knew that was a damn lie. “All of mine are in the wash right now, so I’m making do.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, scanning your face. He tapped your legs and abruptly left the room.

“Bucky!” You had just managed to get yourself untangled from the blanket wrapped around your legs to pause the movie when Bucky returned.

He held a pair of his own socks in one hand and one of his henley’s thrown over his shoulder. He plopped back onto the sofa beside you. Bucky nodded down to his lap, in which you carefully placed your legs with curious eyes watching on.

Bucky tugged his socks onto your feet then covered your toes with his hands, rubbing them between his palms to create heat from the friction. He refocused on the show after tossing his henley at your face.

“Put it on. I know you’re still cold, even with this damn thing on.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You stared at the soft shirt in your hands as you spoke to him.

“Can’t have my dolly being cold, now, can I?” Bucky ran his thumb over your ankle. You felt his eyes on you as you pulled the shirt on. “Sorry, it’s not Sam’s. You’ll just have to make do with mine.”

He threw you a wink before immersing himself back into the movie, his movements on your ankle never ceasing. Meanwhile, you could feel your cheeks becoming as red as the fabric of Bucky’s henley.

It became a bit of a ritual between the two of you. Over the next few months, Bucky was sure to do whatever he could to spend time with you. Despite knowing you had no real interest in him, Bucky made it his mission to be around you as much as possible.

“Hiya, dolly.”

Bucky had been stationed at one of the punching bags in the corner of the room when you walked into the gym. He dropped his stance, taking in your frame in another one of his stolen shirts. This was one of the more recent developments. One that he was enamored with.

Bucky adored seeing you in his clothes, even in this undefined, in-between platonic relationship the two of you shared.

“Hey, Buck.” You smiled at him, dropping your bag onto the floor in front of the wall of mirrors. He watched as you walked over to the bag across from him as you wrapped your knuckles.

Bucky had a much harder time concentrating on his own workout. How the hell was he supposed to? You were behind that damn bag, letting loose all those cute little groans and grunts as your fists connected with the leather.

“Here.” He walked over, tired of seeing you stop your workout to halt the swaying of the bag. He braced himself for the impact of your fists.

You glanced up at him through your lashes with raised brows, waiting for his go-ahead. Once Bucky gave you a nod, you continued your work-out.

Was Bucky a creep? There’s a very real possibility that’s a true statement.

You kept his shirt on, allowing him to take you in with sweat glistening on your body in his clothes. The thoughts beginning to formulate weren’t helping his situation. You had just finished a particularly intense pattern of hits when you groaned. Bucky took in your new stance away from the bag, hands on your hips as you pulled his shirts over your hips, using the fabric to hold your hands.

“Will you spar with me?” You took a step back again to grab your water.

This is a bad idea, but that didn’t stop Bucky from saying yes. He wasn’t sure if there was a situation that he would say no to you in.

The both of you began fighting. Bucky was always impressed with the force of your hits. He thought back to when he first started integrating into the team. You were already recruited by Natasha, and had been training with her for about three years before Bucky was brought in.

He could tell you were becoming fatigued, your movements sloppy and uncalculated. You threw a punch to his left side, but it was slow and careless. He caught your fist, spinning your body around while placing his right arm around your chest. Bucky paused a minute, his breathing syncing with the rapid rise and fall of your breasts against his arm.

“What’s up with you?” His breath bounced off your ear and hit his neck, only to be quickly flipped. You stepped under his arm during his concern for you, knocking the back of his knee before using your body weight to pin him to the ground.

“Nothing.” You smiled wide at him, giggling a little as you had his hands pressed against the mats by his wrists. “Sympathy is a powerful weapon.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing out loud. He suddenly hooked one leg behind yours, planting his foot on your hip and slamming your back onto the vinyl mat of the floor. Bucky remained snug between your legs, holding your hands to the floor with just one of his.

He stretched his arm out, pulling yours along with it as he leaned down to you. Bucky didn’t want to think about how he felt in this position with you. He didn’t want to let his mind run wild with thoughts about having you pinned like this in his bed. He didn’t want to think about having your hands tied to his headboard while he pulled every delicious sound out of you that he could.

He especially didn’t want to think about how his cock was rubbing against the fabric of your leggings, but fuck was it a good thought.

“Distraction is better. And I’ve got a few years on ya, so experience doesn’t help.”

“That’s cheating.” You laughed, “I had you pinned, I won!”

“I didn’t know we were competing, dolly.” He let go of your wrists, settling his weight backwards as you sat up on your elbows.

“But let’s be honest, if we were competing in who could finish a fight I would win.” Bucky took the opportunity to squeeze your hips before getting up and offering his hand to you.

You laughed beside him as the two of you exited the gym to go to the elevators. You shoved his arm as the two of you entered the elevator, going down a floor to the shared kitchen area.

“Hey guys. We’re having a movie marathon tonight. Want in?” Sam was leaning over Natasha's shoulder as she sat in one of the bar stools. Bucky envied his friend, he wanted to be close to you like Sam was with Natasha.

“I’m down. You comin’, Y/N?” Bucky peered down at you hoping you would say yes. You seemed to be in a bit of a daze as you answered though.

“I’ll come for you anytime.”

All of Bucky’s blood rushed to his cock as you stammered an explanation.

“Uh— wait, no, I— ugh, damn it. You know what, I'm going to go shower, I’ll see you guys tonight!”

“What the actual fuck? Who the hell are you? When did we just start speaking our mind?” You muttered under your breath as you raced up the stairs. Away from the awkward situation that you created for yourself.

“Oh god, let’s be honest, you’ve always spoken your mind, but not that kind of shit, you dumbass.” You slapped your forehead lightly, dragging your hand down your face in frustration.

“And now you’re talking to yourself. Wonderful.” You trudged to your room, hoping that a hot shower would make you feel better.

The spray of the showerhead beat down onto your body, relaxing the muscles as you washed the shampoo from your hair. You let your hands rest on your shoulders, a sigh of exhaustion escaping as you turned your face toward the water.

As much as you didn’t want them to, your thoughts ran back to your training session with Bucky. You hadn’t known that he was in there, but you were pleasantly surprised when you first saw him. Your relationship with the Sergeant was rocky at the start, but you were ecstatic that it began flourishing as well as it is. You were content to harbor the little school girl crush a little while longer, knowing that it won’t amount to anything in reality.

The longer you lingered on the memories of your most recent encounter with the man, the farther your hands began to drift. Your fingers danced over your own skin, eventually landing right where you wanted them to.

With your eyes closed, it was Bucky’s hands on your body.

With your eyes closed, you were bending to his will.

With your eyes closed, Bucky was knocking at your bathroom door and asking if you were okay.

“Oh shit!” Your eyes popped open as you yanked your hand away from your body, slamming into the tiled wall.

“Dolly?” Bucky’s fist hit the door, the damn thing bouncing in the frame with the force of his pounding. “What was that? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Your voice strained as you wrapped a white towel around your body. “Hang on.”

How the hell were you going to play this one off?

You held your towel to your body with one hand, the other reaching for the doorknob only to have the whole damn thing ripped away from you as Bucky bent to your level. His hands roamed your arms, confirming that there weren’t any injuries before settling both large palms on your cheeks.

“What the hell, dolly?” His blue eyes locked onto yours. It felt like he’s trying to read your mind with how enrapturing his gaze is.

“I’m fine, Bucky.” As much as you wanted to have his hands on you for as long as humanly possible, you needed to create some distance between you. If you don’t, you might make a bigger fool of yourself by asking to kiss him.

“I’m sorry if I worried you, but really I’m okay.” Bucky hadn’t moved from his original place in front of your bathroom door. You could feel his eyes follow your movements about your room, watching as you gathered clothes for the team movie night.

“I need to bandage your hand before we go down.” He left no room for argument, so you ducked your head as you escaped back into the en suite.

At this exact moment, Bucky was happy to have been injected with the serum.

Bucky stared at the closed door of your bathroom. He knew he wasn’t imagining when he heard you moan. He wasn’t lying when he said he was worried. No, that part wasn’t a lie.

He wasn’t sure how entirely truthful he would be if you asked him how long he stood there before knocking on your door.

Bucky needed to cool down.

Like, right now.

He backed away as he dragged his fingers through his hair. Every sound that came out of your mouth was running through his head on a loop. He did try to ignore it, he shouldn’t be thinking of you that way. You deserved more than to have him think of you like that.

Truthfully, he just wanted to have a reason to think of you that way, one that came directly from you.

Bucky felt a billow of warm air blow from the swing of your bathroom door. Your hair, still damp from the shower, stuck to your bare shoulders. He could tell you toweled your hair off in an effort to lessen the amount of water in the strands by the bit of frizz that began forming at the top of your head.

“Sorry.” The closer you got, the easier Bucky could see the droplets of water clinging to your skin. His eyes followed their path as they raced down your exposed flesh. He wanted nothing more than to lick the remaining water off you, if you’d let him.

“It’s fine.” He said quickly.

Bucky jerked his head toward the door, smiling down at you as he led the way to the theater room. He pushed his way into the darkness that was immediately contrasted by the flatscreen of Tony’s design.

“Where do you want to sit?” He saw one of your shoulders lift out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, I get that you don’t want to pick. Just grab us a seat in the back corner, I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Thank you.” You practically skipped to the seats, making Bucky smile as he grabbed a few junk snacks in his arms.

Bucky’s smile remained as he watched you snuggled into a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch.

“Scootch over.” Tapping your thigh with the back of his hand, he took his seat beside you.

“As we all know, we trade off on who picks the movie.” Tony stood beside the screen, waving his hand emphatically as he spoke. “You’re all so lucky that it was my turn to pick.” One of his hands rested on his chest as he leant forward in a mock bow.

“What do ya think he picked?”

The heat of your body radiated pleasantly into Bucky’s as you spoke to him. The scent of your body wash wafting to his senses, taking his mind back to the noises he listened to outside of your bathroom door.

“I don’t know. It’s always something stupid with him.”

Bucky couldn’t care less about Tony’s choice of movie. What he was really concerned with was how close you were to him.

And how much he wanted to be closer.

About halfway through the movie, your body stretched with a yawn. Both of your legs kicked off the couch, relishing in the rush of blood to your limbs before settling back into your original position.

“You can lean on me, ya know?” Bucky tilted his head toward you, whispering to you as the movie continued playing.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you leaned your head against his shoulder, murmuring a small thank you. Your eyes slid closed as you soaked in the warmth that Bucky provided. Like a goddamn walking space heater.

It took a few seconds to readjust your position, only for Bucky’s metal hand to rest on the bare skin of your knee after you stopped moving. A shockwave raced up your spine at the contact.

The lighting of the movie changed. A buttery filter settling over the screen, the little starlights in the ceiling of the theater changing accordingly.

You nudged Bucky’s side, making him drop his gaze to you before following your pointer finger to the lights in the ceiling.

Suddenly, the lights changed again.

A deep red overtaking them as a guttural groan played through the speakers.

Your eyes snapped back to the screen, seeing the two main characters in the throws of intimate passion. It didn’t take long for your curiosity to overtake you, making you more than invested.

You felt your head leave Bucky’s shoulder, tilting slightly to the left as you leaned forward. Bucky’s hand never left your leg, you distantly felt it slide down to your inner thigh with your quick movements. He must’ve asked you a question because he squeezed the inside of your thigh making you jump in your seat.

“Dolly?” Another squeeze. “Are you okay?”

Your body flushed, finally fully recognizing that it was Bucky’s hand on your inner thigh.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from the screen, flashing him a small smile without looking at him. Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he examined your body language.

You had the blanket covering your lower half bunched between in your grip.

The scene progressed and it seemed you couldn’t decide to be relaxed or tense. Your jaw dropped slightly as the male character thrust into the female. He glanced at the screen, watching as the shot focused on the man’s hand on the outside of the woman’s thigh. Back to you, your head had tilted to the side again, brows furrowed at the progression.

He flexed his hand against your own thigh before rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“Feeling a bit hot, dolly?”

Your face whipped around to his, lips parted as small puffs of air escaped. Bucky watched for any sign of discomfort from you as his hand slid a bit higher.

“Is this okay?”

A tiny nod that received a small smirk in reply.

“Words, dolly.”

“Yes.”

Bucky felt his harsh breath bounce off his bicep as his fingers dragged up to the apex of your thighs. He traced the crease of your thigh several times, familiarizing himself with the fabric of your shorts. His pinky slipped under the hem, accompanied by a quick inhale from you.

“Shh, dolly.”

He felt your heart rate increase, smiling into your skin as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“You don’t want everyone to find out what we’re doing back here, do ya?” Bucky felt your thighs clench at his words, making him quirk a brow at the thought.

“You might be into that, dolly. But, I don’t share what’s mine.” He pinched your thigh making you jump closer toward him, a reaction that he thoroughly enjoyed.

He repeated the pinch, pulling you into his lap as you jumped yet again. Bucky fit his arms around your body, keeping your legs spread just enough for his hands to fit comfortably, his knuckles brushing against each other. The surround sound system that Tony installed in the theater room drowned out the little yelps that escaped your lips, much to Bucky’s dismay.

“Be a good dolly,” his right hand pulled your hips back into his, “and stay still.” His metal hand remained in between your legs, the temperature difference causing little goosebumps to rise over your skin. Bucky leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before whispering to you, “Please.”

His hand traced the waistband of your shorts, running his fingers over the indentions that the elastic left on your stomach. Bucky hummed into your neck as your breaths shuddered. After a few minutes of torture as the movie progressed, he gave in. Pushing his hand further into your shorts, the fabric peeling away from your heated skin.

“Bucky.”

It was breathy.

Heavenly.

The very implication of it, of what he was making you feel, made his soar on cloud nine.

And all you said was his fucking name.

“What do you want, dolly?” He stopped the downward descent of his hand, resting just above where he knew you really wanted him. But he wanted more.

“Please touch me.”

Fuck him. The quick rise and fall of your chest and increased heart rate reverberated from your body into his.

His metal hand pinched your thigh again.

“I am touching you.” His fingers danced across your slit, humming lowly to himself at the wetness that began gathering there.

A little groan slipped past your lips, a little too loud for Bucky’s liking in such a public forum. His metal hand covered your lips as he brought his mouth to your ear.

“Don’t be a greedy dolly and be quiet.”

One of his fingers breached your slit, the heel of his hand brushing against your clit in the process. The slight friction makes your back arch away from his chest.

“If any of them turned around, what would they see?” He kept his finger stationary, wetness pooling around his digits as he refused to move. “They’d see you spread out on my fingers. My dirty little dolly. Such a good girl for me.”

He felt your walls clench around him.

“You like me tellin’ you that you’re my good girl?”

He took the opportunity to begin to pump his finger in and out of you. Your walls sucked him back in as he continued to move back and forth.

“Of course you do.”

“Bucky, please.”

He twisted his hand, rubbing the heel of it against your sensitive clit. God, he’d barely touched you and you’re already a writhing mess beneath him.

“Such a dirty girl.” Another pump. “Getting all hot and bothered from a movie,” He removed his fingers, circling your clit, “then begging for my touch?”

Your mouth dropped open as he pressed a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Bucky quickly replaced his digits, resuming his steady rhythm.

“Be a good girl for me.” He whispered into your ear as your legs began to shake. “Come on, cum for me.”

“Bucky.” Your hand reached his bicep, nails digging in and leaving little crescent shaped marks.

Moon shaped badges that he would brandish with pride.

“That’s it, just let go, Y/N.”

Your body stilled in his arms as he continued pumping his fingers, the wetness pooling there thoroughly coating his digits. He smiled into your skin, covering your mouth with his metal hand to muffle your moans.

“I told you I don’t share, dolly.” His pace slowed as the lights in the theater room brightened. Bucky watched as his teammates began to rise from their seats, grasping blankets at their waists while they stretched their arms above their heads.

“That includes your little noises.” Bucky shifted you from his lap to the cushion beside him, his arm still wrapped protectively around your back. He stood from the couch, leaving his skin in contact with yours for as long as possible.

“We’ll continue this later, little dolly.” Bucky watched your eyes widen as he brought his fingers, the ones covered in your cum, to his lips. He fought his eyes rolling back to take in your shell shocked expression as he moaned from the back of his throat at your taste.

Your fist hovered near the door. You’d been debating on how to broach the subject with Bucky since the team movie night. Just as you went to pound on the door, it swung inward. Your eyes darted up to the mass of a man standing in front of you.

“Hiya, dolly.” You felt your face flush and Bucky’s eyes roamed your figure.”How are you doing today?”

“I’m alright.” You hesitated for a second, wringing your hands at your waistline. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Sure, come on in.” He stepped back, revealing the room that you had become acquainted with over the past few months.

You walked in, pausing at the foot of his bed. Bucky’s hand rested on your bicep.

“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

You whipped around to face him, eyes wide as they focused on his face that was closer to yours than you originally thought it was.

“I’m fine. Swear, Scout’s honor.” You held up three fingers to which Bucky snorted.

“You weren’t a boy scout, dolly.”

“I could’ve been a boy scout if I wanted to.”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that.” He inched closer to you, bumping the back of your knees into the plush edge of his bed.

You chewed the inside of your cheek as Bucky’s chest pressed against yours. His hand lifted to your face, cold fingers tracing your cheekbones before swiping your hair behind your ear.

“Didn’t you come in here for a reason, dolly?” You started to stammer out an answer when Bucky continued talking, eyes roaming your face. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having you all to myself, but you seemed to be on a mission.”

“Right.” You evacuated his immediate vicinity, facing the window on the opposite side of his room. You fumbled with the drawstring of your sweats, twisting the string between your fingers.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” His hand reached out, resting on your arm to turn your body toward his.

“I wanted to just talk about what happened with us the other night.” Bucky nodded as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. Bucky followed your movements as you paced in front of him.

“Well, it’s just like I’ve never actually done that before or had that done to me so it really kind of made me nervous. But then like it happened and I tried to kind of just forget about it and put it out of my mind because I knew it was probably a one time thing. But it’s been occupying more space in my head than I feel like it should if I’m going to be able to forget it. And now I just want it to happen all over again. And I really liked experiencing that with you and I hope that you liked it too because I mean well you had your hand down my pants and then you, ya know? With the fingers? And then your mouth? And the sucking?”

Bucky sat attentively listening to your rant with his head tilted to the side. You continued to wear down the patterned rug you had claimed ‘looked like him’ in the store. The same rug he wanted to get carpet burn from because he was on his knees for you.

“So I just assumed that you liked it too but now I’m freaking out because what if you were just being nice and you didn’t actually enjoy it and I had just happened to be the closest to you at the time when you were feeling a little frisky?”

Bucky dropped his head to his hands. His weight shifted forward as he leant his forearms against his thighs as you kept talking. He knew you were really talking to him, you had already made a decision before coming in here. He had done this same routine with Sam about you.

“But no that wouldn’t make sense because I feel like we’ve been building up to this the past few weeks, but I thought that you weren’t interested in me because I was too young for you but if it turns out that you are then I would be super excited about that because I’m super into you too and then it would make this whole thing less awkward for me and then we could just bang it out, right?”

He pushed up, halting your movements by placing his hands on your shoulders and turning your body to face his. He titled his head forward, raising a single brow as he spoke.

“Of course I want to bang this out, dolly. But, I need you to understand a few things first.”

Bucky stepped around you to stand beside the door. He watched you from his new position, nudging his head to his bed for you to take a seat.

“I don’t plan on this being just a one time thing.” Bucky took a step forward, crossing the rug he bought in hopes you would spend more time in his room— with him.

“If we do this, you’re mine and I’m yours for as long as we both want it to happen.” A few more steps and he dropped to his knees in front of you. He tipped his head backwards and lifted his hand to reach your knee.

“Now,” he rubbed your thigh up and down, “do you want this? Do you want me?” Your eyes were slowly widening as the words left Bucky’s mouth. Your head began to bob back and forth, pupils blown with desire.

A half laugh escaped through Bucky’s lips, “No, dolly. I need your words, Y/N.”

“Yes, Bucky.” You leaned forward, tracing your fingers against the day old stubble growing on his jaw. A wide smile split his face, and he bit his lower lip as you touched your forehead against his. “I want this. I want you. I want us.”

“Oh thank god.” He shot up, shifting your body up his bed. Bucky’s lips attached to your neck, lightly biting the exposed skin there as your head fell back in what he hoped was ecstasy.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you for?” He felt your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, sucking in a harsh breath against your skin at the feeling.

“No need to be greedy, dolly.” Bucky leveled his face with yours, easily melding his lips against your slightly chapped pair.

“I’d give you anything you’d ask for. Without. Question.” He punctuated the last words with small pecks to your cheeks.

“Bucky.” His head snapped up, that breathy little whisper of his name engraving itself into the grooves of his soul. If he died right then he would be content.

“Will you go out on a date with me?” Bucky hands, which had previously been tracing the hem of your t-shirt, found their new home on either side of your head.

“Did you just ask me out, dolly?”

A nervous huff escaped your lips, the subtle scent of your mint toothpaste permeating Bucky’s skin. He hovered over your body, watching every little squirm and shift as he remained silent. He took pity on you, saving you from any further discomfort.

“I would love to go out on a date with you.” He brushed his nose against yours twice.

“Now, can I fuck you into oblivion?”

“Yes please.” You squealed as he shoved his face into your neck, blowing cool air onto the sensitive skin.

“Thank fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, pushing you into the plush mattress below.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, balling the soft fabric of his shirt. Bucky shifted his weight, settling a thick thigh between your legs to press against the heat radiating from your soon to be throbbing center. He groaned as your dull fingernails indented half moons into his exposed skin, badges of honor in his opinion.

“Dolly, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be with you.” He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, feeling his dick begin to pulse against you.

You felt Bucky’s hands trail down your body to your waistline, tugging at the soft material of your sweatpants. Your breath began to quicken as he pulled your pants down your legs. Just as they dropped to the floor, Bucky’s eyes immediately met yours, foregoing the newly exposed skin.

“Let’s make this even, dolly.” He pulled you up, standing at the foot of his bed and placing your hands on the band of his shorts. You could feel the elastic material of his boxers cutting into his skin just under the plush fabric of his shorts.

His pants joined yours on the ground as he went to remove both of your shirts. You hadn’t been doing anything terribly important earlier in the day so the decision to not wear a bra was one of comfort. Now though, you kind of wished there was yet another step Bucky would have to take to see you.

Bucky’s hands fell to your rib cage, thumbs grazing the sides of your boobs. One slight reposition and he would be cupping your boob in his hand. Your fingers grasped his wrist, eyes darting to his before he could move any further.

“What’s wrong?”

You swallowed the lump stuck at the base of your throat, “I’m just-- nervous? I guess.”

Bucky leant forward, cupping your cheeks. “I’m not going to push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. If I do, please stop me. Okay?”

“Okay.” You met his eyes before pushing forward and locking lips with him. Bucky released a grunt of approval before returning in kind.

He broke the kiss before you, replacing his hands on your ribs. “Lay on your stomach for me dolly.”

Your heart began to pound hard enough you thought Bucky could hear it. Turning away from him, you attempted to seductively crawl on top of his bed, but you’re sure you looked like an injured gazelle.

Bucky’s hands came in contact with the backs of your calves, the juxtaposition of his hands causing a shiver to race up your spine. He breathed a laugh onto your skin, stamping butterfly kisses on your back.

Everytime Bucky got close to where you wanted him, he would immediately back off and start the process over again. Tracing his hands up your legs, little kisses on your shoulders, the dip of your spine, blowing cold air on your lower back, then retreat. He seemed to revel in your whines as they only served to prolong his torture.

“Bucky please.” You breathed into the comforter below you. He mumbled into your skin, words you couldn’t make out.

“I’m getting there, dolly.” He flipped you over, making you release a squeal and then stare at him with wide eyes. “Let me enjoy my meal.”

His tongue darted out, tracing the gusset of your underwear. A breathy moan left your lips and Bucky took the time to wrap his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. His nose nudged against your clit, loving the sharp intake of breath that met his ears.

“Oh goodness.” Your thighs tensed at the feeling of Bucky’s lips beginning to suction around your throbbing clit. He continued to mouth at your center, the fabric starting to become sticky with your juices. Shots of pleasure ran through your body as Bucky licked.

“I’ve never been happier than right now.” He pulled back a bit, turning his head to press the words into your thigh. You felt his right arm shift as his fingers began to trace your slit.

“Dolly, you’re so wet for me. Am I making you feel good?” He tilted his head against your lower thigh, watching your face as he continued to feel your wetness.

“Am I? Talk to me, Y/N.” He pressed harder at the top of your slit, feeling the engorged clit underneath the thoroughly soaked fabric.

“Yes-- yes, you are.” You reached down, fingers winding into the dark locks on his head. “Please, Bucky.”

His eyes lulled up to yours, watching your reaction as he pulled the crotch of your underwear to the side. It took everything in you to not let yourself completely disappear into the sheets, but god you were glad you didn’t.

“Fuck me, dolly.” Bucky leaned forward, flattening his tongue up your slit. “You taste so good.” He continued to lick, repositioning with both of his arms around your thighs. Bucky pressed his face further into your center, He groaned as the gusset of your underwear attempted to interrupt his meal.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

You let out a small groan when Bucky removed his mouth only to feel the fabric of your underwear down your legs.

“You still doin’ okay, dolly?” He suctioned around your clit as he saw your mouth open to answer him. You felt him smile into your slit, then abruptly felt his tongue roll against your clit.

“Bucky?” You were nervous to ask, but you wanted to experience this.

“Mmhm?” His head tilted to the side, but he didn’t stop his fondling.

“Will you--” You paused as Bucky crawled up your body, pressing kisses into your skin. “Will you make my legs shake?”

Bucky’s head whipped up, eyes meeting yours with a fire blazing behind his. His jaw tensed and you weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking.

“It would be my goddamn pleasure, Y/N.”

You felt fingers in your hair as you were roused from a peaceful sleep. Your nose scrunched as you buried your face further into the warm pillow beneath you.

“Don’t start something you aren’t ready to finish, dolly.”

Bucky’s gruff voice sounded off from above your head, his fingers still fumbling in your hair. His opposite hand was tracing random shapes onto your exposed shoulder. You pulled back a bit, a smile working its way across your face as you looked up to him.

“You feel okay, dolly?”

You went to answer when the door of Bucky’s room burst inward with Sam tossing a water bottle toward the bed.

“Yo! If we’re going to get this run in this morning we’ve gotta get cracking!”

“Sam!” Bucky yanked the covers over your shoulders, concealing you from Sam’s view.

“Oh my god!” Sam backed out of the doorway only to turn his head and shout, “Nat! Nat! Natasha!”

“Why the hell are you yelling at me?” Sam pointed into Bucky’s room where you were cuddled against Bucky’s bare chest. “What’s up, Y/N?”

“Hi, Nat.” Your voice was soft as Bucky played with the ends of your hair.

“Leg shake?”

“Big time.”

“Okay! Everyone out of my room, I’ve got a girl to ravage again!” Bucky quickly turned and covered your body with his as Natasha and Sam left the room in a fit of giggles.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan fan fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months

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Bullies

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, slight Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your big brothers are there to pick up the pieces after bullies come after you.

New schools were hard, and usually you dreaded walking into one. Not today, though. Today you were excited.

Why the change?

Well, this time, you were going to be able to stay at the school, maybe even for the whole year and beyond. Your brothers and you had moved into the Man of Letters bunker, and it seemed like you were there to stay. That meant no switching schools every few weeks. You would actually be able to make friends and keep them. You’d get a life here, you had a home now.

Needless to say, you were on cloud nine.

You didn’t know then, but you were about to be knocked off it.

…

In your anxious/excited hurry to get to your class on time, you weren’t paying as much attention as you should have been to where you were going, and in your rush your shoulder jostled a large boy at least two grades older than you.

“Oh, sorry,” you called over your shoulder, too intent on your forward motion to bother stopping.

“Hey!” You felt a large, meaty hand grip your shoulder and before you knew what was happening you were thrown back into the row of hard metal lockers.

You gasped in surprise, looking up to see the boy sneering at you.

“How about you watch where you’re going?”

Your good mood deflated a little in your annoyance.

“I apologized, there’s no need to get pushy,” you tried to walk away from him, but he wasn’t having it. He shoved you back against the lockers, and you winced when your head hit the cool metal.

“How about you show some respect here, you runt,” he growled.

“Who do you think you are?” You scoffed. This mouth breather had no right to go around demanding respect from his peers.

“What did you say to me?” You were shocked to feel your feet rise off the ground as the guy lifted you by your collar. “I’m the guy who can make your life a living nightmare, that’s who. I run this school, runt, and you’d do well to remember that. You’re just some new brat, you got no power here, understand?”

You stayed defiantly silent, lifting your chin and barely resisting the urge to spit in his face.

He raised one meaty hand, and before you knew what was happening you heard a harsh slap, followed by a ringing in your ears. Your cheek stung where the guy had slapped you, and you were dazed for a moment.

“I asked you a question, runt,” he pulled you away from the lockers only to slam you against them again. You were just starting to think that maybe you should give up your “normal” facade, and show this guy how a Winchester fights, when you noticed a whole group of boys, just as big and brawny, if not more. They were right behind the guy, and they all wore identical jerseys.

The football team.

Of all the douchebags you could’ve pissed off at this school, you had to get the guy who had the whole football team at his back.

“I understand,” you mumbled.

Your cheek burned when he slapped you again.

“What was that, runt? Speak up!”

“I said I understand!”

The pressure at your collar disappeared, and you dropped to the ground. You were just turning to go when your books were slammed out of your hands by one of the boy’s friends.

You know those scenes in movies where the bullies walk away, and some mysterious new friend helps the victim pick up their books?

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

Instead, the bullies lingered, and you felt your face burn hot with shame as a few of them laughed as you knelt to pick up your books. They got bored after a moment or two, and one of them even kicked the side of your head as they walked past you, still laughing.

Your hands were shaking, and you sucked in a breath when you saw a few tears drip onto your fallen books. You gathered your stuff quickly and rushed to your classroom, and your heart sank when you saw that all the back row seats were taken. You desperately needed to find a corner to hide in, but it was impossible.

You settled your stuff in the middle of the front row and ducked your head down, determined to stay below the radar for the rest of the day.

“Hello class,” the middle aged male teacher greeted, and he was rewarded with a few mumbled responses. Unperturbed, he continued. “We have a new student today. Y/N Winchester, would you like to share a bit about yourself?”

Crap.

Without another option, you rose unsteadily to your feet, keeping your head ducked low just in case your beating had left marks on your face.

“I-I…um…” you fumbled for the right words. In the melee of the past few minutes, you had forgotten the speech you had rehearsed just in case this moment came. You couldn’t exactly tell your life story, at least not most of it. “My-my name is Y/N.”

Come on, say more!

You were thrown off even more when you heard a couple of students giggle as the teacher said-

“Yes, yes we know. Anything else?”

“I-um…I live with my brothers,” you took a deep breath, fishing for anything else to say. “We moved around a lot, but we-we’re here now.” You cringed inwardly. Of course you were here now, they knew that!

“Alright, well we’re glad to have you,” you were relieved at his clear invitation to sit back down, and you took it without hesitation. The rest of class, and even the next few classes, passed without incident.

The day could not continue that way, unfortunately.

Came lunch time, the guy—Brock, you learned was his name (how cliche)—returned to torment you, and he’d brought four buddies with him. Thankfully, he didn’t hurt you this time, but he did steal the few dollars you’d brought to buy lunch.

You didn’t doubt that you could’ve stopped him, you probably could’ve taken out one or two of his friends with him, but not the whole group. So, you let him walk away, your money clutched triumphantly in his massive fist.

You thought about going to the lunchroom, but the idea of wandering around with no food and no friends to sit with was too exhausting to even think about, so instead you found an empty classroom and worked on homework until the bell rang.

You ended the school day exhausted, hungry, and completely defeated. If this was how the first day went, how would the rest of the year be? Just more of the same torment? You couldn’t imagine a silver lining to this, and the constant thrumming in your head was a constant reminder of how the bullies weren’t afraid of the consequences of physically hurting you.

The moment the last bell rang, you snatched up your bag and made a beeline for the parking lot. You figured the team must be busy with football practice or something, because you didn’t run into them in the hallways on the way out.

Dean was already waiting in the Impala when you arrived, a big grin on his face as he waved casually at you.

You ignored his greeting, sliding into the passengers seat and closing the door, making sure to keep your head down and facing the window.

“Was the first day ok?” He asked, not yet noticing your mood.

You simply nodded. You were pretty sure you hadn’t spoken a word since this morning, and you were too exhausted to speak now.

Dean finally noticed your silence.

“Cat got your tongue?”

At your shrug, he frowned.

“Kid come on, what’s up?”

You continued to stare in silence out the window, biting your tongue so hard that you tasted blood. You knew that if you tried to talk, you would cry. The best you could hope for would be to keep the tears at bay until you could hide in your room.

The second the Impala pulled up to the bunker, you rushed out, not looking back as you made your way to your room. When you got there, after brushing past a confused Sam, you locked your door and tossed your backpack on the floor, heading straight for your bed where you pulled your pillow to your chest and finally let your tears fall.

Once you started, you found it almost impossible to stop, and before you knew it you were finding it hard to breathe as you choked on your sobs.

…

“Where’d she go?” Dean asked as he stepped into the bunker. Sam, still confused, gestured to your room.

“She just ran right in there, didn’t say anything. Do you know what’s up?”

Dean shook his head, frustrated.

“She didn’t say a word the whole ride home, I don’t know what happened.”

“Should we…” Sam glanced at your locked door.

“Worth a shot I guess,” Dean stepped up to your door, knocking gently. “Sweetheart? Hey, can you let me in?”

It was silent for a long moment.

Dean frowned, “Kid, if you don’t answer me I’m gonna think something’s wrong, and I will pick this lock.”

Nothing.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Sam leaned closer to the door, and Dean followed his lead.

“Is she crying?” Dean whispered, not that he had to ask. The sound coming from your room was self explanatory.

“That’s it,” Dean said, pulling out his lock pick kit and going to work on the lock. Sam grabbed his arm.

“Are you sure-“

“She hasn’t said a single word, Sam. I think it’s about time we find out what’s-“ the click of the lock silenced them both.

“Honey, last chance. I’m coming in.”

Silence.

“Ok,” Dean sighed, and eased your door open.

The sight in front of them broke the brothers’ hearts.

Dean was the first to approach you, head buried in your pillow as you struggled to breathe between sobs. When he saw how much you were struggling, he abandoned his slow approach and rushed to your side, pulling your head away from the pillow to give you more room to breathe while his other hand came up to rub your back.

“Baby, you’ve gotta breathe, ok? Just take a deep breath, you can do it.”

Slowly but surely, your sobs subsided, and you were able to take full, deep breaths. Dean was so busy worried about your breathing that it took Sam pointing it out for him to notice the bruise forming on your cheek, and the small cut on your lip.

“Honey who did that?” Dean spoke the words through gritted teeth, and regretted it when he saw you flinch at his sudden change in tone.

“I fell,” you whimpered, burying your head against your pillow again.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dean struggled to control his anger. It wasn’t you he was angry at, after all.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What? Of course it matters, you-“ Dean broke off when Sam pulled him out of earshot. “What?”

“Look, now’s not the time for an interrogation. We can ask her about that after, but I don’t think this is what she needs now.”

Dean glared at his brother for several seconds, before taking another glance at you and relenting. You looked exhausted, and this conversation could wait. For now.

“Fine, but-“

Dean stopped again when he heard your stomach give an angry grumble. He returned his attention to you, coming to stand by the side of your bed.

“Honey, did you eat today?”

You shook your head, and it took all of Dean’s restraint to keep from asking questions about that.

“Sam, can you…”

Sam just nodded and walked away to find you some food. As soon as he was gone, Dean climbed up on your bed next to you and pulled you into his arms.

He was relieved to feel you finally relax, releasing your tension and sinking completely into his embrace.

“Not a great first day, huh?” He said quietly.

“No,” he could hear the way your throat caught, and you hiccuped as a few more tears slid out, wetting his shirt.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he started to rock gently back and forth, and was rewarded by you burrowing further into his chest. He cradled the back of your head with one hand, rubbing circles along your back with the other.

“How about we just stay right here tonight, ok? Sam can bring us some ice cream, and you can pick out a movie. How’s that sound?”

He felt you moving around in his arms, and he smiled as one of your hands shot out and grabbed a book by your nightstand.

“Can you read this to me?”

Dean hesitantly picked up the book. He wasn’t big on reading, and he wasn’t sure if he was the best narrator, but if that’s what you wanted…

“Yeah, of course baby,” he settled back against the headrest, and you positioned yourself on top of his chest and closed your eyes.

“Hey, honey?”

You hummed.

“Will you please tell me everything that happened today, later?”

Your eyes popped open, and you stared at him for a long moment before slowly nodding.

“Later,” you promised quietly, and he smiled.

“Thank you, baby. You know I’m only asking because I wanna help, right?”

You nodded again, and settled back down, staring expectantly at the book.

Dean wrapped his arm around you and began to read.

When Sam returned a while later with food, he found the two of you fast asleep, your book resting on Dean’s chest as it slowly rose and fell, his breathing in sync with yours.

295 notes · View notes

samgirl98 · 7 months

Text

Forgotten Demon Twin 7/?

Prev | Next

“So, does that mean you can get us that sweet, sweet new Wayne tech,” Tucker asked.

Sam hit him in the back of his head.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem,” she said.

“Betrayal from my only two friends!”

The three teens were in Sam’s basement/entertainment room. Danny had just finished giving them an unabridged version of his family’s history. Barring a few things. Like the fact that Bruce Wayne was Batman and his kids were the other Gotham heroes.

“So, what now,” Sam asked. She still couldn’t believe it. Danny was raised by assassins! She wanted to be disgusted; she couldn’t condone any life-taking, but she was also aware enough that it wasn’t Danny’s fault.

Besides, he has stopped, and he was a hero now.

“Now, I tell my parents the whole truth about Phantom.”

Sam and Tucker stared at each other.

“Are you sure, dude,” Tucker asked.

“Yeah, what if they don’t accept it and attack you?”

Danny shrugged, “They took it just fine when they found out during the whole reality gauntlet fiasco.”

“Yeah, but that was then; this is now. Danny, you just told them a cult raised you. There’s only so much you can dump on people before they break. Especially parents. Why can’t you accept me for who I am, mom?”

Sam was breathing hard at the end of her little rant.

“Okay,” Danny drawled, “Your parents aren’t my parents, Sam. I would have to tell them eventually. I might as well get it over with.”

“Are you going to tell them about the Ghost King thing, too,” Tucker asked.

“I’m not the Ghost King yet,” Danny said. Tucker rolled his eyes, “Fine, crowned prince.”

“Yeah, I am,” Danny said. For it to work, he had to be fully honest with his parents about Phantom and everything it entailed.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other.

“If you’re sure,” Sam said, “Just know we will always be here for you.”

“Yeah, dude, the three of us are a team.”

“Thanks guys.”

The three friends sat in silence for a while.

“So, are you really not going to ask for that sweet new Wayne tech?”

“Seriously, Tucker?”

“Boo,” a pillow hit Tucker in the face.

“Hey! A guy should be allowed to ask.”

____

Vlad Masters sat in his office listening in to the three friends.

He was glad he had the foresight to bug more than the Fenton’s home. (Daniel always found the bugs, anyway.) What he had just learned had him reeling. Daniel wasn’t Maddie and Jack’s biological son. Not only that but that buffoon Bruce Wayne was Daniel’s father.

What’s more, Daniel had been raised by assassins.

This changed things. He got up and looked out the window.

Daniel was a valuable asset just for being a half-ghost like him. But now, he was not only the crowned prince of the Infinite Realms, but he was also the biological son of Bruce Wayne. If he could get Daniel on his side, Vlad would have more power than he could have thought possible. Daniel would be his son, and Maddie would be his.

It was time to scheme.

____

Damian got out of the car and left as soon as they got to the hotel room. Bruce was glad he had called Dick to meet them in front. His eldest followed Damian, even if it was from a distance.

Bruce sighed. He had no idea what to do. How do you deal with a long-lost child forgotten by his mother and brother? A child who had been abandoned by the only family he had ever known? A child who Bruce had no knowledge of?

“God, I wish you were here, Alfred.”

As he exited the car, he could’ve sworn he heard the older man speak, “I’m still here, Master Bruce. Always.”

He turned and saw an empty car.

The city must be getting to him.

____

Tim had not slept since he got to Amity Park. Now that the firewalls were gone, he had done research.

What he found disturbed him.

“Duke, come here for a moment,” the newest member of the family walked up.

“Tim, you should really sleep.”

Tim took a gulp of his energy drink, “Read this.”

Noticing her brothers’ tense posture, Cass came up to read whatever had caught their attention.

“That can’t be right,” she said, “that violates the Protection Meta Act.”

“Well, it’s there and it exists.”

The Anti-Ecto Act laws were laws that carried out government-approved genocide. They allowed ecto-entities to be hunted down, studied, and exterminated without prejudice. Not only that, but the way the laws were written allowed for any ectocontaminated human to be classified as an ectoentity and stripped of all rights.

How had the Justice League missed this?

“Bruce is going to be pissed,” Duke said.

“Our new baby brother is in danger,” Cass stated.

Tim kept the tab on the Anti-Ecto Act open and took notes to present to Bruce. He was also able to find fights between Phantom and other ghosts. The kid mostly fought in the air.

Tim took more notes of every power Phantom showed. The list was extensive. He whistled when the kid gave a well-placed kick to a vampire-looking ghost. Tim could easily see the League training. It was easy to notice when you knew what to look for.

He found blogs of teenagers praising the teenager and articles claiming that he was as big a menace as the ghosts he fought. Over the years, though, it seemed that the perspective had shifted on Phantom.

He cataloged the shift after Amity Park had been sucked into an alternate dimension and Phantom had helped save the city.

There were more articles.

Phantom Saves the City from an Eternal Sleep.

Phantom Stop Giant Plant Ghost from Eating Amity Parkers.

The more he read, the more Tim learned. The more he worried for his new brother. He was different from Damian. There were no articles of decapitated people or people stabbed by a sword. Danny didn’t seem to be as violent as Damian had been.

It made sense. Talia and the League didn’t truly raise him. He had had a chance of a semi-normal life.

Tim also looked into the other hero, the Red Huntress.

She seemed more like a ghost hunter than a hero to Time. She shot any and all ghosts. There was an interview of her saying that all ghosts deserved to be exterminated. Yikes.

There was a knock on the door. It was the secret knock Bruce had taught them. Cass opened the door.

“Hey, Bruce,” Tim looked up and saw the weariness on Bruce’s shoulders. The guy must really be going through it. It made Tim feel a bit bad for what he was about to show Bruce, but the man deserved, no, he needed to know what was going on in Amity Park.

“Tim. Found anything?”

“Oh, I found plenty. You might as well get comfortable. This is going to be long.”

So, I'm better from Covid, which means I'll start working again. I won't update as often as I did the past few days but I'll try to update at least once a week.

I hope you liked this chapter.

#Forgotten Demon Twin #dc x dp #dp x dc

215 notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

The End of Love

➪the one where you break up but still love each other. (requested-ish)

Warnings: angst, fluff, break ups, swearing, gaslighting

Inspired by the song 'The End of Love' by Florence + The Machine

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The buildings intimated you in the best way.

You look up and have to squint, even though you were wearing sunglasses. The sun was high and had no clouds whatsoever to hide behind, making the heat shine down on you.

It didn’t bother you, though.

How could you be bothered when you had the perfect guy next to you? The same guy who had been next to you since junior year of high school, as well as the guy who promised you that university wouldn’t change anything between the two of you. Oh, how you wished that were true. You wished you knew how bad things would end. Maybe if you did, you could’ve saved yourself from the heartbreak.

But that was later.

Right now, you were in awe.

“I knew it was going to be big, but I never imagined New York being this massive,” you say, barely able to catch your breath. “How will we find the time to explore everything before school starts?”

“We have all summer,” Ethan says as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you continue to walk down one of the many streets that made up the big city, your eyes looking everywhere in hopes to take everything in all at once. “And even when school starts back up again, we’ll still find time to explore together. We’re going to be fine.”

“You promise?” You ask and tilt your head up to look at him.

Ethan laughed and nodded, leaning down to kiss you quickly. “I promise,”

You were three seconds away from pulling your hair out.

You knew education after high school would be hard but you weren’t aware that it would be this fucking brutal. You were tired and stressed and annoyed and about this close to throwing your textbooks at Sam and Tara as they once again got into another argument.

Gripping your pen tighter, your mind goes back to Sam’s apologetic smile and her kind words of, “I’m sorry we were so loud earlier. We’ll be more quiet next time, Tara just frustrates me sometimes,” and then fast forward to an hour later when they began bickering again.

You tried to focus your attention on your school work, but your mind was somewhere else completely. You look over at your phone and debate whether or not to pick it up and send Ethan another text. He probably wouldn’t answer it, anyway, as the last three you’ve sent him had been left on delivered.

Six whole hours had gone by since you sent the first one, another three since the second and just one since the last. He had to be busy, right? Maybe he was trying to get some work done, too, and turned his phone off or something.

Still, it would’ve been nice to receive just one text saying that he couldn’t talk right now and that he’d call you later.

Instead of unlocking your phone when you reach for it, you toss it even further away from you on the bed in hopes the distance would make it so you didn’t feel the need to constantly keep checking it.

You would just keep disappointing yourself if you were to open your messages and see the same stupid words.

Delivered an hour ago. Three hours ago. Six hours ago.

Seriously, what the fuck was he doing that was so important he couldn’t find the time to send a quick text?

God, when did you turn into this kind of girlfriend? The one who drives herself crazy when she doesn’t receive a text back in a reasonable amount of time? Ethan never gave you a reason not to trust him, so why were you getting so annoyed at his lack of responses?

You take a deep breath before going back to the notes you took in class today. Though, as soon as you began reading, your phone went off and you grabbed it within seconds.

Eth <3: hey, sorry for not answering :/ i’ve been stuck in lectures all day and left my phone at the apartment. i just got home now

It was embarrassing how quickly you began typing a response.

No worries, glad you’re alive

Eth <3: haha

Your brows furrowed at his unusual short response and your thumbs started moving again without a second thought.

What are you doing now? Want to come save me from The Bickersons? The sisters aren’t getting along at all today

After hitting send, you set your phone back down and go back to reading over your notes, relieved at the fact that you were able to get into contact with your boyfriend.

During the middle of your mini study session, your phone went off again and you were surprised to see that it had been a full forty five minutes since you sent the last text.

Eth <3: sorry, babe, i can’t tonight. i’m going to that frat party with chad

Eth <3: maybe we can hang out tomorrow?

Disappointment settled in your chest as you read over the two messages again, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Hang out? It seemed weird for your boyfriend to suggest hanging out when he usually always just showed up or sent you a text that let you know he was on the way. There was never any planning, just doing.

You shake off the weird feeling that bubbled in your chest and answer his text.

That’s okay, I just miss you :) Tomorrow works for me

Eth <3: miss you too <3

You held back a scoff and tossed your phone to the end of your bed. Ethan’s short replies were unusual and made a sinking feeling form in your heart at the very real change that is currently happening in your relationship.

The next day came, and once again you found yourself unable to reach Ethan.

Hey, when did you want to hang out?

You cringed when you sent that text as you never referred to spending time with him as ‘hanging out’.

Half an hour went by before you sent a second text, and another hour before a third.

Did you want to check out that breakfast place we were talking about?

Are you even awake yet?

You assumed he wasn’t when another hour passed with radio silence on his end. Believing that was better than the alternative; he was ignoring you.

It was hard to believe that a whole twelve hours went by before your phone went off.

Eth <3: i’m so sorry, i forgot we had plans. i’ve been studying all day for that test on friday so i wasn’t near my phone

Plans? That’s news to you.

As far as you knew, Ethan asked you to hang out then completely ghosted you.

It was then when you found yourself slipping away and not bothering to reach out first anymore. It was a sad realisation that you two would go days without speaking or seeing each other and the only time he would talk to you was when you started a conversation or asked to spend a day with him.

The effort he was putting in was non-existent and you quickly found yourself putting in less and less effort as well.

You didn’t know what happened, but you knew when it happened.

You two were so happy during the summer, but now that school had started again it was as if you were dating a ghost. Though, really thinking about it, you were sure a ghost would respond to you more than Ethan does at this point.

An entire month went by with very little contact between you and Ethan, and to say you were losing hope in the relationship would be the biggest understatement of the century.

A total of fifteen texts were shared and you had only seen each other nine times. What kind of relationship were you in? It wasn’t normal at all and it wasn’t like either of you to be so distant with each other. You couldn’t help it, though. Ethan had failed to stay on top of replying to texts and it hurt you more than you cared to admit.

Though, the lack of communication was not just his fault. You had stopped texting him daily and instead only sent him a message every few days, some of which went unanswered completely. Instead of going over to his place or having him come over to yours, you only really saw him in between classes or at a party, and even that was rare.

Like the other night, both you and Ethan were invited to a frat party without either of you realising it. When you bumped into him and saw your boyfriend for the first time in five days, you were brought back to the good times you used to have with him. It was easy to forget how bad things had gotten.

You ended up staying with him for the rest of the night and the two of you acted like you were in a normal relationship still and ignored the very obvious tension that hung in the air.

It was nice to pretend for a night.

A day went by and you were back to not communicating once again. And the cycle continued.

You considered it a miracle when you both found the time to spend a day with each other, though you two were both far from how you used to be. Ethan moved around your apartment with the hesitation of a stranger, and you couldn’t think of one thing to say to him that would start a conversation.

Now here you were. You were sitting on the couch with Ethan right next to you, yet you felt so far away. There was an overwhelming sinking feeling in your chest and you knew what was coming. It was inevitable at this point, you both felt it.

It wasn’t working out.

School got in the way.

We’re going in different directions.

We’re just too busy.

It didn’t make you feel any better.

But then again…who actually felt good about ending a relationship where you used to be so happy, one where you two were so good together?

The silence was overwhelming and both of you were too scared to be the first one to talk as you knew that when one of you did…it would be over. A nearly three year relationship just over. It hurt to think about, let alone allow it to happen.

With a shaky breath, you look over at him to find him already looking at you. You give him a sad smile and he returns it, refraining from reaching over and taking your hand in his. Instead, he bit back his hesitation and mumbled, “This isn’t working out, is it?”

You look away quickly, biting down on your lower lip as you slowly shake your head. “It’s not,”

There it was. The end.

Ethan sighed as he played with the sleeves of his henley. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep that promise,” he said quietly.

Your mind went back to the summertime and his promising words of ‘Even when school starts back up again….we’re going to be fine’.

But you weren’t fine.

His apology had your eyes watering and your lip quivering. Turning your head away from him so he wouldn’t see your face, you let a few tears fall. It was too much. You had thought you’d prepared yourself for this. Your relationship this past month was more like a friendship, and you were sure that things would be so different when you were over for good. The only reason you even saw him this month was because you both felt guilty about not putting in enough effort and just decided to push aside the tension and act like everything was fine.

Would you ever see him again after this?

The thought had another sharp stab pierce your heart.

You shrug your shoulders in response, quickly wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand. “It just got too hard to keep up with. Life got in the way,” you hated the words you were saying as you refused to meet his eyes. “We tried, didn’t we?”

You weren’t sure why you were asking him that as you knew you both put in a poor effort to keep the relationship going. But Ethan knew this too, yet he didn’t want to say the truth, either. “We did,” he completed the lie with a simple nod of his head, something you missed as you still didn’t look over at him.

The silence returned and you shifted uncomfortably. Never did you ever think you’d be uncomfortable while in the presence of Ethan. Things really have changed.

In hopes to keep him in your life just a little bit longer, you ask him another question and try to ignore the way your voice cracked, “We were good together, right?”

Ethan’s reply came instantly. “Of course we were,” and it wasn’t a lie.

Sure, the end of your relationship was hard, but the beginning was amazing, the middle was when you had some of the best days of your life, and the decision to end it was mutual. Not many couples can say that their breakup was mutual.

You nod at his words, taking a chance and reaching over to grab his hand. Ethan let you as he knew this would be one of the last times he would be able to touch you.

A teary exchange of smiles later had him getting up and leaving your apartment and finally you were able to bury your head in the pillows to muffle your sobs, the harsh reality of what just happened hitting you hard.

Two weeks passed and you weren’t over the breakup. You feared it would take many months for your heart to heal even a little bit, but you were okay with that. The ache you felt when you woke up was bearable as it meant your love was real and it happened.

Sure, it was over, but it happened. And that was enough to keep you going.

You skipped a lecture today to stay home and catch up on some reading. Well, you were supposed to be reading but here you were, laying on the couch and scrolling through your phone with the book open on your chest.

That Summer in New York <3

You don’t know how many times you’ve read that caption of your last post with Ethan on your Instagram. The various photos did nothing to soothe the ache in your heart, but they did bring you the smallest bit of comfort.

The post was from the same day Ethan promised you’d be fine when school started, and the memory of that day was what kept you going. It was a good day, one filled with laughs, love and exploring the big city with your boyfriend. It was hard to think of that day being one of the last good ones you had with him.

Fuck, you missed him. Just like how you felt during the last stretch of your relationship, you felt worse now that it was truly over.

The amount of times you had to stop yourself from texting him were countless, though the high twenties would be your guess. You hadn’t seen him since the breakup, with the exception of his past self in the photos on your page, and all you wanted to do was check if he was okay. Was he sad like you? Happy? Fine?

Like yours, his Instagram was still full of posts of the two of you as it seemed like he, too, couldn’t bring himself to delete them. It brought you the smallest amount of joy to know that the wound was still fresh to him like it was to you.

Your mind went back to before you two were even dating and you realised that you started out as friends. That got you thinking; if you were friends before your relationship, who says you can’t be friends after it?

And with that, you open your texts and type out a message before you could stop yourself.

Hey! I was thinking about you today and wanted to know if you were wanting to get together sometime? As friends :) I miss you and don’t want to not have you in my life

Before you could tell yourself that you sounded too desperate, your thumb hit send and you were left with the same message that used to haunt you.

Delivered one minute ago.

It was only ten minutes later when your phone went off and you sat up quickly, setting the book down and grabbing your phone from off the coffee table.

Ethan: you read my mind

Ethan: i miss you, too

The smile that formed on your lips was the biggest you’ve had in months and you quickly typed back a reply, not caring at how needy it made you look.

Great, we’ll set something up for the end of the week?

A reply never came as quick as his.

Ethan: definitely, can’t wait

You were now in a much better mood as you stood up from the couch and peaked your head in Tara’s room. She was on her bed, playing on her phone when she looked over and immediately sat up. “Hey, Y/n,” she said, the smile on your face making one form on hers. She hadn’t seen you look this happy in a while, so she wasn’t about to decline when you asked her if she wanted to go get brunch together.

Tara was beyond excited to see your true, happy self slowly coming back. She knew how hard the breakup hit you and to see you begin to put yourself back together had a permanent smile on her face.

Fall was just around the corner and the air was chilly, but that was the last thing on your mind as Tara guided you towards the new restaurant that had recently opened. She went there with Chad and couldn’t stop talking about how good the food was.

You listened with a smile on your face but within seconds your legs stop moving and your smile drops.

Tara, who continued rambling about the food, stopped walking when she realised you were no longer next to her. She backtracks and stands next to you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “What? What is it?”

You were looking off in the distance, unable to answer her as you felt tears spring to your eyes. Tara furrowed her brows at that and tried to see what you were looking at, and when she did, her hold on you tightened.

On the opposite side of the street was Ethan.

You knew the first time you saw him after the breakup would hurt, but you assumed it would be because of a completely different reason than the one you felt now.

You assumed it would hurt because you hadn’t seen him in weeks and you missed him, not because he was currently locking lips with a girl.

“Y/n,” Tara said quietly, her hand moving down to properly hold yours. Tara had a feeling that the reason you were so happy was because of Ethan and a possible reconciliation, so seeing this had her mind going blank and her jaw locking.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the scene and you watch as Ethan’s hands grip the girl’s waist and she leans further into the kiss. Her hands caress the sides of his face as she moves closer to him and that was when you decided you’d seen enough.

Tara tugged you away and you let her. The two of you turn your back to your ex as she guides you back in the direction of your apartment, missing the way Ethan pulled away just in time to see you walk around the corner.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagines #scream 6 ethan #ethan scream 6 #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagines

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holylulusworld · 14 days

Text

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Your son is out of breath when he runs into your living room. Look what I found!”

He lifts his arms to show you what he’s holding in his hands. Your eyes widen at the sight of the biggest toad you ever saw.

“Oh my God!” You scream, and backpaddle. Michael Joseph proudly grins at you. He tells you he’s going to name him Toadie Mc Toad. “You won’t keep that thing!”

“I like him,” he pouts. “He’s cute. Please let me keep him.” Your son sniffles now. “Please! Please! I’ll take good care of him and feed my new friend daily.”

You sigh. “Michael, we don’t have a place for Toadie to live. The little toad needs more than food. We want him to be happy.”

“But…mommy,” your argument gets interrupted when someone harshly knocks at your door. You hear a commotion and someone muttering incoherent words.

“This is not over,” you point at the toad in your son’s hands. “Don’t drop the poor thing. We don’t need Toadie to walk around the house to scare me.”

“He won’t do such a thing—” Your son pouts and whines. The knocking gets louder, distracting you long enough for your son to kiss the toad.

“Michael! Stop kissing the toad,” you grumble while walking out of the living room. “Coming!” You call for whoever is hammering against your door. “Just a minute.”

Your son follows you hot on your heels. He won’t stop pleading. Michael wants to keep the toad and he’ll do anything to keep the poor creature.

“Wait here, Michael. We will talk about the toad in a minute. Let me answer the door first.”

You look at your son, giving him a stern look as he sits down on the floor to talk to the toad he found in the small garden behind your house.

“Just a minute,” you run your hand over his head. “I’ll be right there, and we can talk about the toad.

Your son nods and turns his attention back toward the toad. You sigh and walk toward the front door. It’s not the best day for an unexpected visitor.

“Hello, what can I do—” your voice fails seeing Dean and his brother stand in front of your door. Sam gives you an apologetic smile and murmurs your name while his brother is less apologetic.

“Hi,” Sam says before Dean can start messing things up. “I know this is sudden, and you didn’t expect us, but Dean couldn’t wait any longer."

“What do you want here, Dean?” You hiss his name. “The deal is sealed. You have no reason to come here and invade my privacy and home!”

“I didn’t invade your home,” Dean bites back. “If you would've told me that I got a kid this reunion could’ve been much more harmonic.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Winchester.” You huff. “Now get off my lawn.”

“I won’t leave,” he takes one step closer to you. “I got a kid, and I want to get to know him! You’ve got no right to keep my child from me.”

“He’s my son,” you snap at Dean. “I was the one watching his first steps. I was the one raising him without any help. You’ve got no damn right to come here and demand to see my son.”

“Our son,” Dean raises his voice. “You can’t keep my son away from me?” He sniffs. “Not after I just found out that I’m a father.”

“You’re not a father,” you hiss. “A father would've never left the woman he asked to marry him for his ex or let his mother walk all over me. You made your decision that night, and I made mine on my way to London. Now get out of my sight.”

Sam tries to calm you both. “Y/N, how about you let us in, and we don’t discuss this out here, for everyone to hear.”

“I won’t let you brother inside my home where my son is,” you glare at Sam. He means well, you know that, but you cannot risk letting Dean inside your home. “You will stay out of my house, Winchester!”

“Winchester?” Your son shoves you out of his way to look at Sam and Dean. “You must be DEAN!” He squeals and grins. Your son holds up the toad, telling them to have a look at his new friend. “I found him in the garden!”

“Uh-that’s very cool bud,” Sam says. He crouches down to look at the toad. “I’m not Dean, but his brother Sam.”

Michael jerks his head toward Dean to look your ex-fiancé up and down.

“You look much cooler, Mr. Dean. I like your hair better and you’ve got that cool car.” Your son hums while staring at the car in Dean’s hands for a moment. “Cool.” He pushes the toad in Sam’s hands, ignoring that the tall man scrunches up his nose.

“What?” Sam looks at the toad in his hands. “What do I do with the toad?”

You whimper when your son grabs Dean’s hand. He grins and tells Dean to follow him inside. “I got a cool Impala too, Mr. Dean. I’m going to show it to you.”

“Dean, no,” you can only step aside because your son drags Dean toward the door. He brushes past you, not even sparing you a glance while talking about his favorite car.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam gets back up, still the toad in his hands. “I told him to call or give you the chance to explain things to him before barging into your home. Dean always was a little…”

“Annoying, impulsive, unreliable,” you huff, and cross your arms over your chest. You take several deep breaths and try to calm down to not yell in front of your son. “I can’t believe he just came here, demanding to see my son after he let me down.”

“Y/N, it’s a little more complicated. Maybe we can go inside too,” Sam offers a weak smile. “Dean was an idiot back then, but it wasn’t his fault alone.”

“He comes here, blaming me for not telling him about my son! I gave him a choice and left a message. I wrote that it’s not only the two of us any longer. Did I have to spell it out for him?” You are beyond angry and yell at the wrong brother. “Dean is many things, but not dull.”

"Y/N, he's a man on a mission. He wants to get to know his son."

“He can’t come here and call himself father! Dean is not my son’s father!” You twirl around to storm inside your house. If you must, you’ll drag Dean out of your home.

“That escalated quickly,” Sam runs one hand down his face. He sighs deeply as he walks inside your home, silently closing the door. Sam only hopes you won’t fight in front of your son. “I guess it’s on me to help these two find a way to talk things out without killing each other...”

Part 7

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #au dean winchester #Designed by pain (6)

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moonlightspencie · 11 months

Text

a house up on a hill

Part 2 of ‘a life where we work out’

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/Dean Winchester x past!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

(i forgot!! tw: non-graphic mentions of suicide)

—————————-> DEAN’S POV <- ——————————

I woke to the sound of a muffled voice calling my name.

The ground was much comfier than I remembered. It almost felt… Soft? I pushed my head back slowly, realizing that it was soft.

The voice called again, though this time it was much clearer.

I opened my eyes, slowly blinking until it all came into view. My heart stopped when I saw her looking at me. She sat next to me on the bed, a hand on my arm, smiling. She looked happy. Healthy.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said with a grin before she leaned down to kiss me.

Although, she came up confused when I didn’t react in time. She furrowed her brow, looking down at me.

“Too tired to even kiss your wife?”

My eyes widened, and suddenly I looked down at the hand against my bicep. She had a pretty little diamond ring on her finger.

“What—“

“How much did you drink last night?” she asked with a laugh. “I know you and Sam can get a little out of hand, but geez. How’s breakfast sound?”

“Yeah, okay,” I nodded, still in a haze.

I watched as she left the room, giving me one last confused smile before she did. I took in a deep breath. This had to be a dream. That was it.

I stumbled out of the unfamiliar bed that I somehow knew very well. I looked around the house. It was a little small, but so clearly a happy place to live that it practically slapped me in the face. I looked around the living room, quickly spotting a photo that was meant to be our wedding day. I set it back where I found it when she called my name.

I turned to see her leaving the kitchen with two bowls of some kind of scramble.

“Come on,” she said, tilting her head towards the front door.

I followed after her blindly, unable to keep my eyes off of her. She was so happy. She was practically glowing. I sat down on the front porch swing, accepting the bowl and another kiss. The porch wrapped around the house, and flowers lined all the windowsills. My attention was captured soon after by two cute kids on playing in the field down the hill. They couldn’t be more than three and four.

My brow furrowed as I glanced around at the open spaces around the house. Where were their parents?

“Jamie! Violet!” she called out to the boy and girl. “Come say ‘good morning’ to daddy!”

I sat in shock watching these two little people come running for me. They looked like us.

“Mornin’, daddy,” the little girl— Violet, said to me. “Lookit!”

She held up a bundle of wildflowers in her soft little fist. Her face lit up. My eyes, and her smile on one sweet, tiny face.

“Real pretty, baby,” Y/N said, looking at me funny when I didn’t reply to the little girl.

Meanwhile, I accepted a hug from a little boy who could’ve been my double at that age. Just without the scary parts. They all had a danger-free life. We did.

She told them to go clean up, but I could place her motives quickly.

“Did you do hard drugs last night, or something? What’s up with you?” she questioned, incredulous.

Her face dropped a little when she looked at me, quickly wiping tears from my face that I hadn’t realized were there in the first place.

“Baby?”

I cleared my throat. “I— I’m sorry. I just…”

I looked at her, not sure how to explain. Last I remember is that we had been broken up for several months. Seeing here now, mothering our children…

“Maybe my hormones are transferring,” she said with a little laugh, wiping the remaining tears.

I tilted my head in question.

She merely smiled. “I was gonna wait until my parents had the kiddos, but…”

She trailed off, the hand with the ring on it resting on her stomach suddenly.

“How’s baby number three sound?”

My eyes widened. “What? You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh—“ I started, kissing her on instinct before my words could get the better of me.

She laughed, pulling away a moment later.

“I know we said we weren’t sure about having another, but…”

“No!” I exclaimed. “No, this is— this is amazing. You’re amazing.”

“There’s my Dean,” she said softly, caressing my face. “I was worried about you this morning. You’re not being your usual self.”

“I just…” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain. Not important right now.”

She sighed. “It’s always important, babe. We talked about this: if you’re feeling bad, I’m here to talk it through with you.”

I watched her a moment, then nodded.

“We’ll talk later. Promise,” I said, still needing to figure out what kind of dream I was in.

“Okay,” she agreed with a nod, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “You know I love you?”

“I know. I— I love you more.”

She smiled again, leaning into me to finally eat her breakfast. I followed suit, at least letting myself enjoy this while I could. We were soon joined by two minis who insisted on cuddling, and I wasn’t going to deprive them of that.

Hours passed, and eventually her parents came. Her living parents just walked right in and took our kids for a night. And if felt good and safe to let them out of our sight. We didn’t have to worry.

I walked around our house as she took a shower, seeing that I’d missed several photos in our living room. Our kids as they grew up. Me, holding them as babies looking happier than I’d ever seen myself. Us. Her parents. My parents. Sam and Jess.

Wait. That felt eerily familiar. Why did that feel so familiar to see?

Well, that question left my brain temporarily when she walked in.

“Hey,” she called, dressed in nothing by my t-shirt.

I stared openly, unable to do anything but stare. She smirked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, warning me. “It’s bedtime.”

I swallowed, still not quitting. “Right.”

She wet her lips, holding out a hand for me. I walked towards her like we were magnetic, immediately leaning in to kiss her. It’s like I couldn’t help myself. She was there. She was still in love with me. She was my wife and the mother of our kids. How could I stay away?

She must’ve shared parts of that sentiment by the way she dragged me into our bedroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind us.

I woke up the next morning to her curled into my side. Even in this perfect world, her hair still covered half her face in a mess when she slept. It was still the prettiest thing I’d ever see.

Unfortunately for me, memories started flooding back as I’d been asleep.

We had seen each other after the breakup. We even started on a hunt together. Going after a djinn.

I let myself watch her a while longer, knowing what I had to do to wake up in the real world.

My heart ached as I thought about it. I needed to wake up. I just didn’t want to. I wanted to see our kids grow up. I wanted to see our baby be born. I wanted to grow old with her. We were doing so well for ourselves here, in this life.

She woke up a few minutes later, giving me a soft smile, and brushing her fingers against the frown lines on my face.

“Always so grumpy when you wake up.”

I shook my head. “Not grumpy. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You. How much I love you and this life and our babies,” I said, not allowing the tears I felt to fall. “How much I missed you.”

She furrowed her brow. “Baby, we were only asleep for like seven hours.”

“Not what I mean. I just—“ I sighed. “None of this is…”

I stopped myself, realizing it was no use to try and convince her this wasn’t real. Why ruin the magic that was already slowly running dry?

“I just love you. So much,” I settled.

She kissed me. “Love you more.”

I smiled softly, kissing her one more time.

“I’ll be back soon, alright?” I lied, reluctantly climbing out of bed.

She nodded, watching me with adoring eyes as I left the room. I finally let those tears fall, finding the gun safe and pulling out my handgun. I walked out to the front porch, sitting on the swing again as I watched the blue sky come alive. It was peaceful. It was someplace I was determined to see again in my dreams when I left.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what came next.

And I pulled the trigger.

part 3 here ->

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester series #a life where we work out #supernatural #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction

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sssammich · 5 months

Text

day 24: enchanted

listen sctober is a state of mind ok?

crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

if you'd rather read this oneshot on ao3

---

“If you attend this party, we won’t bother you for a month.” Sam, one of Lena’s best friends and roommates, announces as she perches herself on the coffee table in front of Lena who is sitting on her favorite corner of the couch.

“Leave me out of this,” Andrea, Lena’s other best friend and roommate, says from the other end of the couch.

Sam only shakes her head before focusing her attention back to Lena. “This will be good for you.”

She arches a brow. “You don’t know what’s good for me.”

“Mmm, babe. Be for real. As your best and most trusted friend, I only want what’s best for you.”

They both turn when they hear a scoff from the other side of the room.

“Sam,” Lena starts. “Let’s not pretend that you’re not a liar and a scammer and, most likely, a thief.”

Affronted, Sam’s jaw drops and stares at Lena before swinging her sights on Andrea who’s sitting at the corner of the sofa not bothering to glance away from the magazine she’s reading. “Don’t look at me, this is between you two.”

“Come on. You’re literally always at work.”

“Because it’s literally my job.”

Sam tries again. “It’s a housewarming party that’s open to everyone, you don’t even have to bring anything.”

“Who invites strangers to a housewarming party?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “First of all, I’m your one regular friend who didn’t go to the rich sad girl boarding school with princessa over there so I know a thing or two about making friends with people. Secondly, since I’m friends with them, they said I could bring my friends. Third, and most important of all, I’m doing this for your own good.”

“And what good is that?”

Sam smiles, her face stretching wide and Lena realizes all too late that she’s fallen trap from something so simple and elementary. She knows Lillian is just rolling in her grave wondering if Lena learned anything at all from her.

“Well, I’m so glad you asked.”

From the corner of her eyes, she catches Andrea shaking her head.

“You’ve inherited the worst hand imaginable having a mass murdering egomaniac for a brother who forced this company on you. Which, by the way, you have slaved over for the better part of the last year. It’s time that you just take a breather, and this is it. Stay thirty minutes just to say you’ve talked to someone not directly employed by you or someone you tip when they hand you your takeout.”

It never stops the sting from Sam’s words when she lays out the truth of Lena’s life. So she purses her lips and stays quiet for a while, a fool’s charade, until she eventually groans her acquiescence.

Triumphantly, Sam smiles, and places a soft chaste kiss on the top of her head. “Lena Luthor, the woman that you are.”

“Shut up.”

Sam scurries out of the room and Lena takes a deep breath.

“You should’ve just said yes the first time, then you could’ve saved yourself the trouble of the last two minutes.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Andrea lazily turns the page of her magazine. “Masochist.”

—

Lena’s not a sucker. And definitely doesn’t think she’s one, but how she got swindled into forking over a crisp $20 bill to the woman across from her makes her rethink that, perhaps, she might not be as sharp as she believes she is.

“Now, I want you to know I’m not a psychic,” Kelly, the woman, tells her.

“But you are more than happy to pocket my money for this party trick.”

Kelly shrugs, her toothy grin appearing far too amused. “Girl’s gotta make a living, you know.”

Lena arches her brow, expectant. “Go ahead, then.”

The other woman tilts her head and smiles, then she waves her hand in front of a crystal ball. Lena has half a mind to snort at this half-hearted performance. “You’ve been dealt a bad hand, Lena Luthor, but all I’m seeing is a very bright future for you.”

This time, she does snort, unable to hide her reaction. “Inheriting the family business because your brother turned murderous lunatic isn’t exactly what I’d call bright.”

Kelly continues moving her hand over the crystal ball before she lets her fingernails carefully tap the top of it, a pleasant tink sound as she does so. “You’ll come across some interesting situations that will make you rethink your old ways.”

She narrows her eyes, observing the other woman from across from her. She doesn’t believe in psychics or witchcraft or magic or any of the sort because anything can be explained with science. But the way that Kelly doesn’t shy away from meeting her gaze makes a flicker of doubt enter Lena’s mind that maybe Kelly knows something she doesn’t.

The other woman pulls back and folds her hands on top of each other as they rest on her lap.

“Finally, you’ll be enchanted by someone you least expect.”

Silence sits between them, Kelly’s eyes anticipating Lena’s next move. Which turns out to be Lena simply opening her mouth and hurling the first words that come to mind.

“Bullshit. That's it? That’s what I paid you twenty bucks for?”

Yet Kelly only shrugs again, a laugh on her face as she makes a show of pocketing the twenty dollar bill from the table between them and shoving it in her bra. “Have a little faith.”

She huffs. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

—

Lena moves on to a different area of the house, providing other guests the opportunity to fall trap into Kelly’s overpriced psychic readings. Who even holds a psychic reading at a housewarming party?

Regardless of her own thoughts and feelings on the matter, Lena can’t help but respect the woman’s hustle, a kind of softness and gentleness in the way she presents herself, enough to lure unsuspecting guests to fork over their money to be told things they already know.

She passes the throng of other houseguests and arrives in the kitchen, making a beeline for the kitchen island-turned-bar and uncorks one of the red wines before pouring herself a healthy glass. She takes a few sips here and there and wonders what’s a reasonable time to leave this party. Andrea and Sam managed to wrench her away from her desk for a night, so she’s willing to consider this night a loss for her and a win for them. But she doesn’t need to suffer needlessly in the torment of a house party.

She grabs her phone and sends her friends a message letting them know that she’s leaving in ten minutes regardless of their impending protests before silencing her phone and shoving it in her back pocket. She takes another sip and peruses the cheese spreads on the other counter when she hears a car pull up right outside of the kitchen windows. She doesn’t quite see who’s out there, but she continues to hear movement, car doors slamming, and then faint footsteps approaching the back door.

Lena hears the thud against the back door then the ineffectual wriggling of the old door knob. Another thud comes through and Lena decides to help preserve this person’s dignity by opening the door for them.

Now, Lena expects to help some poor soul relegated to grunt duty to come through that door, seeing as they were the one who was sent out to buy god knows what. What she doesn’t expect, however, is the finest piece of ass Lena has ever seen holding a crate full of liquor in one arm and a stack of six pizzas in the other. How this woman’s blonde hair is pulled in a ponytail, her glasses slightly skewed on her face, yet the blue of her eyes are still so readily apparent even in the evening light.

“Um, can I get through?”

It takes Lena another couple of seconds to jump into action, pulling herself and the door back to make way for the woman who breezily dumps all the things she’s carrying on an empty spot of the already filled counters of the kitchen.

Lena watches with curious eyes as the woman sighs out in relief when she puts all the stuff down on the counter, brushing her forehead with her forearm before resting her hands on her hips, surveying the goods that she’s just brought. When this woman does this, Lena can see how the tight faded red shirt she’s wearing stretches underneath her back muscles. She doesn’t want to say that her eyes widened in surprise, but she also doesn’t want to say that they didn’t.

Instead, Lena elects to stay quiet and shut the door closed in what she hopes is a quiet click, but is more of a medium volume thud that catches the woman’s attention, turning her around and showcasing her broad shoulders.

“Oh! Shoot, I didn’t even realize…that…you…” the woman tapers off, her mouth slanting into confusion then awed wonder until she stops talking altogether.

“Me…?” Lena says, urging the woman.

“...yeah. I didn’t—um, I didn’t realize you were still behind me.”

“Well. Here I am.”

The woman nudges her glasses up. “Yes, right. And who am I speaking with?”

“Lena. And you are?”

The woman smiles. “Kara.”

She accepts the offered hand between them, more than happy to feel the weight of the woman’s hand in hers: sturdy, warm. She smiles, tilting her head slightly and is endeared by the matching one on Kara’s face.

“So how do you know the homeowner?” she asks, by way of making conversation, their clasped hands slowly, unfortunately, pulling apart from each other.

Kara chuckles. “You’re looking right at her.”

“So this is your house?”

“That’s right!

“Who invites strangers to their housewarming party?”

“Who attends a stranger’s housewarming party?”

She opens her mouth but no smart retort comes out. She’s thankful that neither of her best friends are around to witness this fish-out-of-water flailing that she’s currently doing. “I guess you have a point.”

“Well, you’re here now, so might as well have fun, huh?”

“I was just leaving, actually,” she blurts out.

“Oh, that’s a bummer. Can I entice you with a couple slices of pizza and maybe a little bit of small talk before you go?”

“Sor—sure,” she says, course-correcting from an apology to an acceptance, surprising herself. It seems to surprise Kara a little, too. “Yeah, why not. One slice.”

“Yeah?” Kara’s eyes are patient, as if expecting Lena to turn her down. But Lena wants to prove this woman wrong, so she nods. Delighted by her reassurance, Kara quickly opens the top box and quickly pulls a large slice, the melted cheese stretching, before placing it on a paper plate before handing it to her. Wordlessly, she accepts even as her eyes continue to watch as Kara piles on three slices on her own plate.

In the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and the delicious waft of pizza just nearby, Lena thinks maybe she’ll stay an extra ten minutes past the time she texted her friends.

It would be rude to leave so soon, now that she’s met the homeowner, right?

—

Surprising herself, instead of going home like Lena had planned, she ends up holing herself in a corner of the house talking with Kara. They’re in the den just off to the side of the kitchen overlooking the backyard. They take either ends of the sofa right underneath the window, the moonlight shining through the windows even as Kara flips the switch of the lamp just by where she’s sitting. They’re surrounded by boxes piled up on top of each other, a small little retreat of their own. Laughter and commotion can be heard from other parts of the house, the music softly playing somewhere. But they’re secluded in this room, muffling out the rest of the world.

“Sorry for the mess. It’s taking a little longer to unpack this spot. Hope here is cool?”

“Is this some kind of second living room?” she asks as she scans the room despite the boxes in the way.

“Nah. This is my office. Or will be once I clean up a bit more.”

“What do you do?”

“I dabble in a little bit of everything. Mostly oil-based paintings, and I write sometimes.”

“An artist, then?” she asks aloud after taking a bite of her slice of pizza. Her eyes scan the room again, this time making note of the words on the boxes. She even finds a folded easel in the far corner. It takes her a second to get a response with Kara taking a healthy bite out of three stacked pizza slices.

“Some might say.”

“Are you any good?” She prods, though she makes sure that her voice is teasing, light.

“Some might say that, too,” Kara responds easily, flashing her an easy smile just as she takes a sip of her beer. “I can show you sometime or something. If you want, that is. No pressure.”

Maybe it’s the pizza or the alcohol or maybe it’s neither of those things and it’s just Kara sitting in front of her looking beautiful and handsome and easygoing and lovely but Lena finds herself smiling and nodding before she’s even aware she’s doing it.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

—

Lena’s not sure how long she’s sat on the sofa talking about things other than work and laughing at silly jokes and puns and stories and simply spending time with Kara, but she knows that the ten minutes she promised herself has long passed. The pizza is all gone, and the two bottles of wine that Kara swiped from the kitchen is all but gone, too.

But one minute they’re laughing and tipsily enjoying their time together, and the next, she’s lazily opening her eyes as she registers how she’s being held inside a cocoon of warmth. She takes quick stock of herself, feeling warmth behind her. Then, she finds a strong arm is protectively crossed over her chest while her own arms wrap around it, as if nuzzling into it.

Instead of panic at being constricted and finding herself in the arms of a stranger, Lena discovers that she is not opposed to this hold, to the heat she feels behind her, around her. She takes a deep breath, and dares to snuggle back, the protective arm around her tightening its hold on her somewhat. She feels a warm breath tickle her nape, but the thought only thrills her knowing that it’s Kara with her.

This is not a thing she has ever done in all of her life, but her thoughts sleepily flit through familiar words:

interesting situations…rethink…old ways…

Lena shuts her eyes and lets sleep overtake her once more.

—

The morning light rudely wakes her; the brightness of the light disturbing her peace as it washes over her face. She shuts her eyes further despite not once opening them, and she instantly turns her head to nuzzle into whatever source of darkness is closest to her.

Groaning, she turns in place until she finds what she’s looking for. She tucks her arms further into her chest and lets the reprieve of darkness above her protect her from the bright light.

She feels the vibrating rumble in front of her, laughter belatedly traveling into her ears. With a huff, she realizes it’s Kara laughing at her, even as she maintains the engulfing hold she has of Lena in her arms.

“Stop laughing,” she demands sternly even as the words come out mumbled and she finds her head completely pressed against the crook of Kara’s neck. She resists the urge to breathe in deep and alight her senses with Kara’s scent of faint body soap and sweat and laundry detergent.

“Okay, I’ll stop.”

But Kara doesn’t, and Lena snakes her hand away from her chest to blindly pinch at Kara’s side.

“Hey!” Kara is laughing harder now, even as she maintains her protective hold of Lena. “Violence is not the answer!”

“It’s self-defense,” Lena grumbles, continuing to pinch Kara on the sides until Kara’s hand grabs hold of her wrist to stop her. She attempts to wrestle out of Kara’s grasp, her eyes now open even as she still squints from the brightness in the room, joy spreading inside of her when she sees Kara’s look so beautiful and disheveled first thing in the morning.

“I call a truce,” Kara offers finally, bringing Lena’s hand back down between them. Lena doesn’t miss the way Kara’s other hand, the one that’s safely guarded her from falling off the edge of the couch, is spread open against her back and gently caressing her.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you, your honor.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, but when she looks back at Kara, she can only see bright open skies and promise in them, and Lena thinks she’d like to maybe go outside for a walk or to the beach or to the fields where she can have a picnic maybe.

Shaking her head of her wandering thoughts, she matches Kara’s easy smile.

“Good morning,” Kara says, voice gentle and soft, reverent.

“Good morning.”

“How’re you feeling?”

How is Lena feeling? She doesn’t know, truthfully. She has no idea how to navigate a time where she chats up a stranger and spends the night without having sex. Or to feel so familiar with someone she’d just met. Or want the urge to spend all her waking moments with someone whose only crime is an easygoing smile directed at her.

“Good.”

Kara smiles at her.

“How’d you sleep?”

Never better. She’ll be sore later. The safest she’s ever felt. Her shoulder tingles from where she’s laid on it too long.

“Good.”

Kara’s smile widens.

“I…don’t—this normally doesn’t happen.”

She quirks a brow. “You don’t normally spend the night spooning a stranger on your couch?”

“No, I don’t.”

She can’t help the smirk that appears on her face. “So you’re saying I’m your first?”

Kara shakes her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, you sound like you’re gonna be trouble.”

Her? Trouble? She’s the one who’s being held lovingly in the arms of someone who could probably bench press her and not think twice about it. Who has been nothing but kind and wonderful and goofy and funny and sweet to Lena Luthor, sister of the deranged arsonist who has tarnished their family legacy and forced Lena to raise it back up from the ashes.

“I think if there’s anybody who’s gonna be trouble, it’s you.”

Lena watches as Kara’s attention alternates between her eyes and her lips. Not wanting to second guess herself or wonder what ifs, Lena surges forward and closes the distance between them.

The kiss is soft, though their lips are a little chapped from all their drinking last night. She grabs a fistful of Kara’s shirt in her hand as Kara tightens her hold of Lena. Her other hand travels to the back of Kara’s neck, pulling her down and closer because Lena can’t get enough. Now that she knows how this feels, how Kara tastes—even first thing in the morning, she doesn’t want to let go, not even to breathe.

Soon, they separate because she’s still only human. Their breaths are a little ragged, but there’s a bright smile on Kara’s lips and she just knows there’s one on hers mirroring it.

“I didn’t expect you,” Lena admits, vulnerable and excited and cautious and relieved.

“Nobody ever does.”

Kara brings her head back down and the two continue languidly kissing one another, savoring the feel of lips slotting perfectly against lips.

—

One month later

“You set me up.” Lena sits down on the same spot in the living room of Alex and Kara’s house that she sat in at the housewarming party, sitting directly in front of Kelly.

It’s been a whirlwind of a month for Lena, most surprising of all is Kara’s presence in her life. For one, she’s now dating Kara, far too surprised at the speed in which things moved along between them. For another, she’s had to endure (and continues to endure) the incessant and merciless teasing from both Sam and Andrea, especially when she came home the next day with rumpled clothes and a hickey on her neck. Lastly, even though it’s been a month, Lena’s circle of friends somehow doubled, with Alex and Kelly’s frequent appearance because of Kara.

So here she is, wanting to lay blame at the woman who so conned her into the life she now leads.

“Set you up?”

“All the psychic crystal ball bullshit.”

Understanding washes over the other woman and she smiles, the softness and gentleness of it irking Lena. “Ah.”

“You’re not really a psychic.”

“Well, I never claimed I was. You believed what you wanted to believe, I just nudged you into some…suggestions.”

“One of which was to get with your girlfriend’s sister.”

Kelly laughs. “You’re too generous to give me credit. I’ll tell you what you wanna know, all you need to do is ask.”

“Did you put Kara up to this?”

At the mention of Lena’s now girlfriend, the one who she’s been seeing for the last month they both turn to the line that is Alex and Kara as they hold their large Chinese takeout order for the group, with Sam and Andrea in tow holding up their drinks and the chocolate pie they bought on a whim.

Yet Before Kara fully goes to the kitchen, she turns her head and flashes a smile towards Lena.

“Come on you two, dinner’s ready,” she says.

Kelly gets up and waits for Lena who slowly rises to her feet. She then allows for the other woman to wrap her arm around Lena’s shoulder as the two walk side by side towards the kitchen where they can hear the sisters bickering about Kara taking a bite of a potsticker before even laying everything else out.

“Why bother when she took one look at you and fell in love?”

“You owe me a twenty,” she says gruffly, not meaning every word. Kelly quickly releases her shoulder when Kara detours from her task of getting their plates and walks over and kisses Lena because she can and wants to and Lena thinks she’s happy to give Kara anything she ever desires on this Earth.

“God, you two are disgusting,” Sam quips.

Alex pipes up. “Keep it PG, please.”

Sam and Alex give each other high fives, Andrea rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Kara only waves them off behind her and gives Lena a peck on the nose before hurrying back to her task.

Kelly leans over. “You really think I had anything to do with that?”

Her cheeks redden, yet her sights remain on Kara. “Fine. You can keep the twenty.”

Kelly only laughs.

#supercorp #supercorptober 2023 #supercorptober2023 #supercorp fanfiction #what is this?#a mess #excessive exposition #samfic #dedicated to #chaotic-super #for the prompt

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leclerc-s · 6 months

Text

the daphlonso scandal

series masterlist

daniel ricciardo talks formula one, the met gala, daphne jones, and more

isabella stands behind a counter, holding up two ingredients in her hands. she leans closer to her phone reading instagram live comments, one catches her attention, "what do you guys think about the daphne and fernando rumors?" she laughs loudly as oscar snickers and bailey smiles from behind isabella, holding a clear bowl in her hands.

lando ever the ignorant to what was happening, and simply thought his friends and girlfriend were having a conversation, speaks from behind the camera, "unless she's broken up with daniel, no way in hell is that ever happening, we all know it."

"lando!" bailey shouted as isabella rushed to shut her live off.

lando paled, "oh fuck. no. tell me it wasn't me. oh god, they're going to kill me."

"we kept this for 6 years and you just-" isabella was cut off by her phone ringing. they all stared at each other, they sigh when they realize it's only mae. isabella put her phone on speaker, "hey mae."

"where is he?" mae questions, "where the hell is norris? i’m going to break his trophies.”

“please don’t, i don’t have many,” lando said, taking the phone from isabella, “it was an accident i swear! i didn't know she was live, i promise! mae please don't kill me!"

daphne jones answers the internet's most pressing questions

comments

username she handled this better than i ever would’ve.

username the way she talks about lando and the other kids, it warms my heart. they all truly love each other. you don’t see many genuine friendships these days in hollywood,

username props to the interviewer for asking daphne if she was uncomfortable answering questions about that.

username it’s surprising they kept this a secret for as long as they did. no one suspected these two were even dating.

username everything after 1989 has been about daniel, and i can see why. he seems like a sweetheart and she does too. it warms my heart that these two sweethearts found each other, and are happily in love.

username omg! she tried to break up with him back when shit hit the fan in 2016-2017 and he refused to. daphne said he gave her space but still checked up on her and made her move in with him in monaco so she wouldn’t be alone.

↳ username when did she say this?

↳ username in miss americana, her documentary from 2020. she spoke about her relationship without saying who her lover was. we saw glimpses of him but that was it. i never put it together that it was daniel and looking back on it the signs were all there.

↳ username it’s surprising no one in monaco ever caught them or told a news outlet then. it’s such a small place

↳ username depending on where they lived. daniel said he had a home in the outskirts of monaco, but he also has his farm in australia. i assume they traveled back and forth between the two.

↳ username and new york, reputation was being recorded around this time too.

liked by daphnejonesricciardo, redbullracing, landonorris and others

danieljonesricciardo a little over a year ago i got to marry the love of my life. this was also around the same time i decided to take a year off racing, not because i everyone said i was a failure but because i wanted to enjoy my first year as a newlywed. i did enjoy it. i enjoyed waking up in the middle of the night to find daphne writing a new song or in the morning to her singing in the kitchen. i enjoyed traveling with her as she performed sold-out arenas night after night. i fell in love with magnificent woman as the whole world was against her, or at least that what it felt like, and i never fell out of love. many tiny little moments that were just ours led us to this moment, now i get to shout from the rooftops that i love my wife. i get to brag that my wife is more talented than me and that she picked me. she picked me when she could’ve had anyone else. for me it was always her and it would always be here, it’s a relief to know she thinks the same. i can’t wait to show the world what daphne j. ricciardo is like from my point of view.

daphne j. ricciardo is warm milk and cookies after a day out in the snow. she’s sunshine but also moonshine, light and dark. she’s human. she’s the embodiment of a strong, confident woman. she’s perseverance. she’s the calm after a storm but also a force to be reckoned with. she’s my daisy but also my poison ivy. sweet and sour. all the good things in my life. she’s a daughter, a sister, a wife, a friend, and an inspiration. she’s the love of my life and the mother of our future children. she’s everything to me.

the joker and the queen, forever & always.

tagged: daphnejonesricciardo

comments have been restricted by user

fernandoalo_oficial this is where i say goodbye to my other half, according to the internet. it was nice while it lasted daphne.

maejones was me sobbing at your wedding not enough? now you’re making cry over an instagram post? curse you daniel.

charles_leclerc glad we don’t have to worry about lando spilling this secret

taylorlautner congrats you two! it was a beautiful ceremony and glad to have been invited!

landonorris sorry i made you post about this but one less problem for me to worry about.

selenagomez take care of my best friend ricciardo!

↳ danieljonesricciardo always have gomez. always have.

alex_albon THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN? ARE YOU SHITTING ME RICCIARDO? I CANNOT SHED ANY MORE TEARS OVER YOU TWO!!

baileywinters mama y papa got married and i’m still not over it.

vancityreynolds vroom vroom man's wife stole my wife now i have to steal her husband

↳ danieljonesricciardo name a time and place

↳ vancityreynolds daphne i adore your husband. he's mine now. you can keep my wife and kids.

↳ daphnejonesricciardo ‘guess i just lost my husband’

liked by danieljonesricciardo, sebastianvettel, blakelively and others

daphnejonesricciardo to my sunshine, my muse, my eternal lover. i will forever be grateful you walked into my life when you did. you were my shoulder to cry on and my best friend before you were ever my lover. you’ve held me at my highest high but also at my lowest low. i want all of your midnights forever. i want to be able to tell you that i love you forever. i want to be able to tell our future children that their father is the kindest man i’ve ever met. loving you has been an adventure of its own because there’s always something new to do. i’ll always remember how you dragged me out of bed to watch the stars from our roof or how you wake me up at 3am to eat ice cream. the memories you and i make are forever and i can’t wait to tell them to our children someday.

daniel j. ricciardo is the embodiment of sunshine. he’s a warm hug on a cold day. he’s daylight. he’s comfort. he’s everything to me. there’s in no one else i would rather sit with and watch grey’s anatomy with. there’s no one else i’d rather cry to when life throws another unexpected event at us. there’s no one else i’d rather sing all my songs too first. there’s no one else i’d rather love than you. there's no one else i would want to be the future father of my children. here’s to forever daniel.

miss americana & the heartbreak prince, forever & always

tagged: danieljonesricciardo

comments have been restricted by user

alex_albon ARE YOU SHITTING ME? YOU TWO WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME!! THE JOKER & THE QUEEN? MISS AMERICANA & THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE? OH LORD DIG MY GRAVE!

vancityreynolds lost my future husband before he could ever be mine

maxverstappen1 i call godfather of your first spawn!

↳ charles_leclerc no way! i called dibs first!

↳ carlossainz55 i was here from the start it should be me!

↳ maxverstappen1 i was too! besides charles already has the cat!

↳ charles_leclerc a cat is not the same as a human maxamilian

↳ maxverstappen1 THAT'S NOT MY NAME!!!

↳ danieljonesricciardo seb gets the first child. he's literally the reason we're together in the first place. ryan gets the next, you three can fight roman empire style for the third.

isabellaperez i won't fight for godmother because i know i am not responsible to take care for another person.

daniel jones-ricciardo gets interrogated by max verstappen and sergio perez (featuring special guest isabella perez)

comments

username he hyphenated his name! omg! i love this! i love them!

↳ username they both did! it's adorable

username i wanna know what the smoothie inchident is!

username max with daniel and isabella brings out the child in him.

↳ username this whole video seemed like tired dad (checo), fun uncle (daniel), little sister (isa), big brother (max)

username it’s surprising that checo brought up the 2021 scandal. but max was right, if he would’ve said something then the situation would’ve gotten worse. it’s nice to know all her friends were supportive.

username but what is the smoothie incident?

username props to daniel for deciding that the master’s situation should’ve been about daphne and not them as a couple

↳ username he should’ve said something. what kind of boyfriend doesn’t defend his girlfriend?

↳ username he still supported her as a ‘friend’ all the time. he did what he could without exposing their relationship. he even came to her defense when daphne was getting shit on by the entire internet. daniel is literally the blueprint.

username i wasn’t expecting checo to be the one with the hard hitting questions.

username this was a group i didn't know i needed

username they all seemed relieved that daph and daniel's relationship is out there in the world. i can't imagine helping two people keep their relationship a secret for over 7 years.

↳ username this friend group has proven time and time again they would do anything for each other. i think it's only a matter of time before someone *isabella* marches into the ferrari garage and demands they fix their shitty strategy.

¡leclerc-s speaks! honestly this one started off as a complete joke and then it became something i fell in love completely. it's super long because i just kept adding more and more to it. firmly believe that if lando wasn't the one to spill it stone-cold sober pierre would be the one to do it in an instagram story (iykyk)

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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illusioninfnty · 1 month

Text

Outlast: Chapter Eight (Sam Giddings x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5K

3:26

You bust into the room, Sam and Mike right on your heels. Just as you do, a scene of chaos folds out in front of you. Ashley and Chris are strapped into two chairs, opposite each other. A man in a skull-like mask stands across from them, who you could only assume is this Psycho that had hurt Sam and killed Josh.

Chris holds up a gun at the Psycho, firing rapidly. Nothing happens. Before you even have time to react, the Psycho speaks up.

“Oh Chris...Oh, Chris, Chris, Chris, Chris.”

“What the fuck…” you and Chris mutter in unison.

The Psycho reaches up to remove his mask. “Oh you've heard of blanks before. I mean really?”

When he reveals his face, you're sure that your heart stops in your chest for a second. You can hear Sam gasp behind you.

And in front of you stands Josh, smiling proudly.

“Josh?” Chris asks.

“Josh!” Sam gasps.

“Josh,” Mike mutters.

“What the actual fuck.” You rub your temples, barely able to comprehend the situation in front of you. You really wish you had some alcohol on you right now.

As Josh starts his whole spiel, you run over to untie your friends. As you get Ashley, Mike moves to free Chris.

“How does it feel? Do you enjoy feeling terrorized? Humiliated? I mean, panicked? All those emotions that my sisters got to feel once one year ago! Only guess what? They didn't get to laugh it off! No! Nope! No no no! They're gone!”

Josh’s voice is shaky and his eyes are unfocused as he rambles on. You can’t help but pity your friend, who had been more tormented than you could’ve ever imagined by the overwhelming guilt over Hannah and Beth’s disappearances.

As Josh examples his pranks, going more and more into the specific details he concocted, you can’t help but be wary at Mike’s increasing anger.

“I don't know if you noticed this, Josh, but none of us are laughing.” He bites out his words, tone rigid.

Dread washes over you as you realize exactly what’s making Mike angrier than he should be. He thinks Josh had something to do with Jessica’s death.

Fuck. Double fuck. You mentally punch yourself, allowing the miscommunication about the truth of the Blackwood Mountain to get this far. You need to explain to your friends the truth, and quickly, before more get hurt.

“Why are you doing this, Josh?” Sam asks, voice barely above a whisper. But her question still rings out in the barren room.

“He’s out of his fucking mind over here. Don’t even bother fucking asking the looney,” Mike quips.

“He’s sick,” Chris says, pity dripping off his words. His attempt to diffuse the situation is a miss. Mike is still fuming, and you can practically see steam leaving his body.

“Mike, calm down.” The words leave your lips before you can even stop them.

He whirls around to face you, and you immediately know you’re going to be bearing the brunt of the anger. You’ll gladly take it if it means Josh won’t be falsely blamed for acts he didn’t commit.

He storms over to you, chest to chest as he glares up at you. “He fucking killed her.” His words are laced with grief as he fists the front of your shirt.

“No he didn’t,” you throw back, exasperated. “It wouldn’t make any fucking sense. Think logically about this, Mike.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You of all people shouldn’t say shit like that. Keeping all these fucking secrets. Were you in on this? Is that why you’re not saying shit?”

You don’t even try to entertain his words as his voice gradually becomes louder, more intense, and you can hear Sam trying to break the two of you up. Her arm wraps around your bicep and she tugs you back, away from Mike.

Josh barks out a laugh behind you, causing you all focus your attention back on him.

“This is all just perfect. Come on, you guys are all going to thank me when you guys become internet sensations!”

You raise an eyebrow as Chris is the one to speak up. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh you better believe this little puppy is going viral ladies and germs. I mean we got unrequited love. We got fights. We got...we got blood! I don't think there's enough hard drives in China to count all the views we're gonna get, you guys.”

“Jesus Christ,” your hand runs over your face as you take in everything Josh says.

But of course, Mike isn’t too pleased with his response.

“What the fuck are you talking about, you fucking ass hat? Jessica is fucking dead!”

Josh blinks, looking stunned at the news. “What?”

“Jessica is fucking dead, and you are going to pay, you dick!”

“Damn it Mike, stop it!” Your words are no use, and you can’t stop Mike in enough time as he strides up to Josh and with the gun he took from Chris, hits him across the face and knocks him out cold.

Sam and Ashley gasp as Josh falls to the floor. You immediately approach Mike, snatching the gun from his hand and throwing it across the floor.

“What the hell was that, man? I told you to think before you fucking do something you’ll regret!” You poke a finger in his chest, hoping to at least intimidate him a little bit. But you’ve had heated arguments before with him, and he doesn’t ever back down.

“I don’t fucking regret it.” His tone is affirmative. It worries you that you may not be able to change his mind about it. That you’re too late, and none of your friends will trust you

You kiss your teeth. “Whatever. It’s already done.” You glance down at Josh, who looks weak and sickly all crumpled on the floor. “Someone help me move him upright.”

“No!” Ashley protests. “He’s crazy. He had us fucking chained up, and, and, chased us all around. He’s a psycho!” She hides behind Chris, who wraps an arm around her shaking body.

You can’t help how conflicted you feel about the current predicament happening. You sympathize with all of your friends and their fears. Josh went too far; you weren’t going to deny that. But he was sick. He needed help. And antagonizing him only made it worse. Besides, none of them understand the severity of your situation—only you do. But there’s no use in arguing with them all now, when they’re scared and confused.

You throw your hands up in defeat. “Okay, does anyone have any other ideas?”

Mike steps forward with a look of contempt. “I say we tie him up in the shed.”

“What? That’s insane!” Sam beats you to it, echoing the same words you were just thinking. “We just do that here! There’s no reason to leave him outside.”

Chris and Ashley share a look that has you dropping your head in your hands. “Mike’s right,” Chris says.

Ashley nods. “It’s safer that way.”

Mike glances at you, triumph shining in his eyes. “Three to two. You’re outnumbered.”

Your jaw clenches. “You’re making a mistake, Mike.”

He doesn’t respond.

You sigh. You know you’re not getting anything else out of him. Mike was stubborn as hell, even more so than you at times. “Fine. If you’re going to do this, then I’m going with you.”

They all look surprised at your offer, turning to you with a variety of quizzical looks plastered across their faces.

“Tex,” Sam’s tone is warning, as if to tell you that it’s a bad idea.

Mike scoffs. “No fucking way. You’re gonna pull some shit on us out there.”

“Look, I’m compromising, okay?” You throw your hands up in mock surrender. “You can tie him up or do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t give a shit. I just wanna be there when you guys do it.”

Chris pipes up before Mike can get another word in. “That’ll work. It’ll be better to have an extra set of hands in case Josh tries something.”

Mike eyes you down, as if trying to catch you in a lie. You keep your face still. “Fine,” he finally bites out, “let’s get to it. Before he starts waking up.”

3:41

“Guys! Guys come on... seriously, this is crazy, you know?”

“Shut up.”

You trail behind Mike and Chris as they guide Josh to the shed, not bothering to help him up when he stumbles into the snowy ground.

“Give it a rest you two,” you mumble as they continue to let out all their frustration on him. “Can’t you see how out of it he is?”

Chris sighs in response. Mike completely ignores you. Again.

“Where are we going?” Josh looks all around him, once again tripping on the unstable ground. “Where are you guys taking me?”

Mike shoves him along. “Locking you up, bro.”

Josh’s eyes shift around frantically until they land on you. “You’re gonna let them do this?”

Mike scoffs. “She’s not letting—”

You interrupt Mike before he goes on another tirade. “I can’t outnumber them, bud.” You shake your head apologetically, wishing you could do more. “The best I can do is make sure they don’t try anything stupid.”

Josh’s body falls slack, as if he’s given up. You bite your lower lip as you stare at him in pity, taking in his gaunt and sickly features. You mentally kick yourself for not noticing them earlier.

Your head throbs from alcohol withdrawal and you pat your coat pocket, before holding back a sigh as your hands come up empty. Your flask was probably left somewhere back at the lodge, amongst all the chaos when you reunited with your friends.

You ignore the aching feeling that persists as you trudge along with the guys.

When you finally arrive at the cabin, Mike practically throws Josh inside. It’s barren, old and broken pieces strewn about. Mike ends up tying Josh to one of the pillars that looks like it's one more snowstorm away from breaking, pushing him roughly and taunting him as he does so.

“Stop it,” you bite out through gritted teeth, your frustration reaching its peak. You grasp his bicep, pulling him back. “Chris.” You jerk your head towards Josh, indicating he should take over instead. He quickly gets the hint and takes the ropes from Mike.

Mike tries to pull away from you, but your grip remains firm as you drag him to the corner of the cabin. “Look,” you use your free hand to rub your temples, practically feeling the stress lines on your face from how much this night has been taking a toll on you already. “He’s off his meds. Has been for a while. Cut him some slack, alright?”

He’s practically unresponsive to your plea. “He killed—!”

“Mike.”

He pauses, chest heaving.

You continue. “I told you I would explain everything. I will. Josh didn’t do that. I need you to trust me. Please.”

You can tell by the way Mike’s brow creases that he still feels uneasy about all of this. You’re hoping that Mike still has some kind of faith in you, even just a crumb. You don’t blame him too much; you know that the way you’ve been acting has seemed suspicious lately. But your circumstances are really strange ones, and it’d be hard for anyone to believe it without seeing it.

Before you can gauge Mike’s response, your conversation is interrupted by Josh’s teasing words.

“Oh and Chris? Man, you can forget about ever gettin' into Ashley's little panties after that little cock up with the whole ‘I'm gonna shoot you in the head, thing.’ She's better off with Mike over here anyways... At least he knows how to treat a lady…”

“Fuck you, man!”

“Hey, hey!” You rush over just as Chris grabs a stray wooden board, lifting it up over his head as if he was about to hit him. “Knock it off. We can’t be causing any more problems.”

Josh’s eyes narrow as they land on you. “Drunk as a skunk, drunk as a skunk! Couldn’t solve your problems, couldn’t save my sisters!”

Guilt floods through your chest as memories of that night flash in your mind again. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, and the faint tastes of alcohol that remain make you want to clean your mouth out with soap.

“Back off.”

Mike steps up to Josh, pushing you back slightly. “Leave her alone, dude. You should be fucking thank her for trying to help your sorry ass.”

A breath of relief leaves you as you mentally thank Mike for stepping in. Josh eventually quiets down with a huff and a glare, and once you can tell he won’t be antagonizing anyone further, your friends turn to leave.

You follow them outside the cabin, but stop before you can make it more than a couple of feet away from the doors.

“You two should go on without me.”

Chris and Mike turn back to stare at you. “Listen,” you continue, “you two need to leave and cool off some steam. I’ll stay here, watch over him. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as Mike crosses his arms.

“No fucking way am I leaving you with this lunatic,” Mike grunts.

“Well that’s not your fucking choice, is it?” You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms to mirror his stance. “I can handle myself. And him, if necessary.”

He huffs in annoyance, but you can tell that he can’t argue with you on that.

Chris nods in reluctance, nudging Mike’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure to tell Sam you’re safe.”

“Thank you,” you say breathily in appreciation. “I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t miss me too much.”

A hint of a laugh leaves Chris’ lips as the two reluctantly head back towards the lodge.

As soon as they leave your sight, mere specks in the crisp white snow, you begin to move in untying Josh from his constraints.

“Whoa, whoa—”

“Listen to me.” Your voice is cold, and Josh is able to hold your gaze, recognizing the seriousness. “You need to run. Get as far away as you can. Got it?”

He nods, throwing his head back against the pillar. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry…” Josh trails off, a distant look taking over his face as you deftly loosen the ropes around his limbs.

The dull gleam in Josh’s eyes has your heart clenching in your chest. He looks so lost, so broken. You wish you were able to see just how hurt he had been this past year. You feel guilty that you, or any of your friends for that matter, weren’t able to catch just how much he’d been suffering with the loss of Hannah and Beth.

If you weren’t untying his restraints, ear right by his lips, you don’t think you would have heard his next words.

“You weren’t supposed to be there…”

You think back to his adamance on getting you out of the cabin, and somehow, your heart breaks just a little more.

Character Traits:

Honest: 4/10

Charitable: 9/10

Funny: 4/10

Brave: 9/10 ↓

Romantic: 7/10

Curious: 5/10

Relationship Status:

Ashley: 6/10

Chris: 7/10 ↓

Emily: 5/10

Jess: 3/10

Josh: 7/10 ↓

Matt: 7/10

Mike: 6/10 ↑

Sam: 10/10

Chapter Seven || Chapter Nine

#until dawn x reader #sam giddings x reader #until dawn sam #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn #sam giddings

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spnexploration · 1 year

Text

Pack chapter 11

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Chapter summary: Dean is suddenly sick.

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 10 <- -> Part 12

I woke up to Dean shaking, drenched in sweat. He smelled terrible.

“SAAAAM! MADI!!” I screamed.

I heard a door bang and hurried footsteps, then Dean's bedroom door slammed open, bouncing against the wall. Sam was framed in the doorway, gun drawn. He quickly looked around the room, taking in the scene of Dean shivering on the bed, me kneeling next to him panicking.

He put the gun in his waistband and crossed quickly to the bed, Madi arriving behind him.

“What happened?”

“I- I- I don't know! I just woke up and he was like this!!”

“He's probably got an infection, we need to take him to hospital. Quickly put some clothes on; Madi, can you grab some for me?” She nodded and ran out of the room.

I couldn't move, I was panicking so much. Dean's sick scent was overwhelming, my hands were starting to shake. Dimly, I knew what Sam was saying made sense, but I couldn't seem to do anything about it.

“Y/N?” I was staring at Dean, unable to tear my eyes off him despite Sam clearly wanting my attention. “Omega!” Sam said more firmly. It felt like an order and on instinct I looked at him. “Dean needs us to focus. Go and get some clothes on.”

I slowly and reluctantly got off the bed and headed to my room. I felt adrift, unable to focus.

I picked up the first clothes I saw and went back next door to Dean's room. I stared at them in my hand, unfocused.

Sam was already wearing pants and a t-shirt, instead of the boxers he'd been in earlier. Madison was similarly dressed. Sam was leaning over Dean, asking him quiet questions as Dean grimaced and struggled to reply.

I gazed unfocused at the clothes in my hand, then stole my eyes back to Dean. My heart ached, I wanted to go to him but I didn't think my presence would help.

Sam looked back at me. My eyes stayed on Dean. Sam seemed to decide something, crossing to me and taking the clothes out of my hand. He pulled the jumper over my head, holding out the sleeves one at a time for my arms. I felt like a little kid getting dressed by my Dad, but I couldn't focus enough to be able to do it myself.

Dean tried to roll over and was clearly in pain. I didn't notice Sam trying to get me to step into my sweats until he tapped the side of my thigh. “Omega, lift your leg,” he ordered. I did so, not looking away from Dean. He pulled them up my legs, over my PJ shorts.

Sam stood up and lifted me on to the bed, my feet dangling over the side. I could’ve done that myself, but I guess he was sick of me being practically unresponsive. “Mads, put some shoes on Y/N and bring her to the car, I'll take Dean.”

He turned his attention back to Dean. “Alright De, you wanna try walking or do you just want me to carry you?”

“Walk,” he managed weakly.

Sam started to help him up, pulling his good arm and with his hand behind his good shoulder to get him to sit up. Dean was clearly in a lot of pain, and I could see his bad arm flop around, causing him more pain. “Stop!” I yelled, jumping to my feet, pushing past Madison to grab Dean's sling. Sam seemed almost surprised to see me moving.

Sam and I got Dean's sling on, which seemed to help slightly. Sam draped Dean's good arm over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around his waist, taking a lot of his weight on to his body. Dean grimaced and moaned as they started to move, but Sam managed to get him out the door. My heart was on my throat the whole time, watching.

I tried to follow but Madison grabbed my wrist, “You need shoes, Y/N.” I was so caught up in Dean's pain that it was hard to remember what I was meant to be doing for myself. Madi helped me get my shoes on and then wrapped her arm around my shoulders and led me to the car. My heart ached being away from Dean, easing a tiny bit once he came back into view and I could see nothing else had happened to him.

“Are you ok with him?” Sam asked me, indicating to where he had put Dean in the backseat. I nodded my head and climbed in with him, laying Dean’s head on to my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair and tried to ignore his sickly scent and constant shivering.

---

It wasn’t a long trip to the local hospital.

Sam pulled up and quickly jumped out of the car, grabbing Dean and pulling him out. It physically hurt to lose contact with him, again. Madi opened my door and encouraged me out, wrapping her arm around my shoulders as she led me in behind Sam and Dean.

The hospital staff quickly got Dean into a wheelchair and took him through big double doors. The doors banged shut behind him. My heart hurt more.

Sam spoke to the triage nurse about his history and other details. Madi took me over to the plastic chairs. I felt adrift again, almost disconnected from reality.

After a few minutes, Sam came and joined us. “They’re going to get him hooked up to some IV antibiotics, do a blood test, see if there’s anything else going on. They said we can go see him again briefly, but they also said they don’t allow anyone to stay overnight with patients.”

“Even his Omega?” Madi asked.

“Apparently not. It’s barely even a hospital, more of a clinic, so they said they’re too small to cater for mates of patients. But we can be back first thing in the morning when they open for visiting hours.”

I nodded, barely comprehending what he was saying.

A nurse came to get us and we followed her through to Dean’s room, where he already had his IV line. He looked barely awake, his eyes thin slits and his head practically lolling on his neck.

I clutched his good hand. “ ’m’a” was all he managed to say, but I assumed he meant Omega. I felt a little better holding his hand, a little more centred on reality. But then all too soon the nurse was saying we had to go, and Sam and Madi were trying to tug me away. I reluctantly left, my heart ripping out again in the process.

They ushered me to the car, Madi climbing in to the backseat with me and keeping her arm wrapped around my frame. They ushered me back inside the bunker with calm, gentle words. I felt lost.

“Ok, how about you go grab anything you need and then we can get to bed,” Sam said to me.

“Huh?” The question snapped me from my muddied thoughts, bringing me back to reality.

He paused and looked deeply into my eyes. “Aren’t you going to come sleep in our room?”

“No?”

“Are you sure?” Madi asked. “It’s ok, we don’t mind.”

“I’ll be fine.” I knew sleeping on them had been restful in the past, but I didn’t need to be super restful. And besides, climbing into their bed? With both of them? Awkward with a capital A. I would be totally fine on my own, just like I had been my whole adult life. I could be sad and worried about Dean and still be a capable adult.

“Ok, well, you know where we are if you need us,” Madi said, giving my hand a squeeze before heading down the corridor.

---

It was so much worse than I thought it would be. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched my legs to my chest, the ache in my heart excruciating since I had woken from my fitful dreams. I wanted Dean, I needed my Alpha. I sobbed.

I heard somewhat distant footsteps, then Sam and Madi calling my name. I didn't respond, I couldn’t. A door banged but no light entered my room.

“Where is she?!” Madison asked, panicked. Her voice was muffled through the walls. “Kitchen?”

“No, her scent is definitely coming from down here somewhere,” Sam replied, equalled muffled. “She might be in the room they set up her clothes. Come on.”

Footsteps and then my door opened. I peeked at them through puffy eyes, my sight blurry from tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Madison said.

“Wh- what’s wrong? Why are you here?” I managed, voice breaking.

“This whole wing of the bunker is drenched in the scent of your distress, Y/N,” Sam answered, coming to sit next to me on the bed and wrap his long arm around my shoulders. “It woke me up, and we weren't going to leave you alone when you're in pain.”

“Why does it hurt?” I whispered.

“I'm no biology expert, but my understanding is that when you meet your mate, your body releases a bunch of hormones that get reinforced when you're bonding with your mate.” I was staring to feel a tiny bit better being held by Sam. “When you scent them, when you touch them etc. Eventually this culminates in your heat and your Alpha’s rut, and then all the crazy hormones die down a little once you're marked. But in this period between finding your mate and being claimed, you’re more vulnerable. So you find it harder to deal with Dean's scent when he's sick, to deal with going into shock like when you found Dean, and to be separated from him, especially after a traumatic threat to the bond like him being that ill.”

I nodded, still clutching my legs to my chest.

“But there are things we can do to make you feel better,” Madi said gently. “I'll be back.”

Sam rubbed his hand up my arm in a reassuring manner. I tipped to the side and leant slightly into him.

Madi returned holding one of Dean's t-shirts and his flannel. “The first rule of being away from your Alpha is make yourself smell like them.” Sam stood up and turned away while Madi got me to drop my legs, then she pulled my top off and put Dean's over my head. I put my arms through. It did feel nice to smell like him.

She handed me the flannel, “Cuddle this.” Feeling a little foolish, I did. I felt myself calm down a tiny fraction.

“The second rule of being away from your Alpha is be with Pack. We're going to take you back to our room, ok? We could go with you to Dean's but my experience is that I don't like another Alpha’s scent in my Alpha's space, so I always go to Dean when Sam's away rather than him coming to me. My guess is it'll be the same with you and you'll be better off in our room. Is that ok?”

I gave a tiny nod, but couldn't seem to pick myself up from the bed. Sam came and stood in front of me, gently nudging my legs apart and wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me into his arms, cradling my head with his hand. It reminded me of the time in the forest, only now I craved his touch, was reassured by his scent.

The deep ache I had been feeling eased a little as I breathed in Sam's scent, let myself be held and comforted. He walked out of my room and down the corridor to his own.

Sam gently laid me down on his and Madison's bed. I noticed I was in the middle and started to roll away.

“Sweetie,” Madison said reassuringly, “you need us both.” I looked awkwardly between her and Sam. I didn't want to be a third wheel in their bed, or get between her and her Alpha. What if she thought I was trying to take him? “No one is going to hurt you. Sam is Dean's brother, he smells like Dean. You need him. And I will keep you nice and warm and cocooned.” While she spoke, she motioned for Sam to lie down in the bed next to me.

With Sam and Madi both gently guiding me and cooing reassuring sounds at me, they managed to get me to lie down with my head on Sam's chest. Dean's flannel was still clutched in my hand, and I rubbed it against my cheek every so often. Madison spooned in behind me. Their scents enveloped me. Some more of the tension, of the pain, faded away.

I slept.

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