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apocalypseornaw · 5 months

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What If

Dean Winchester x Reader

You make assumptions after a night in Dean's bed that prove to be false

Warnings: Mention of steamy times, cursing, hurt feelings

Heat was the first sensation that hit you. The heat of a warm body curled up to your back. A strong arm laid across your stomach and warm breath hitting the back of your neck as he slept. How the hell had you ended up in this position when the two of you had simply set out to watch a movie last night after Sam had gone to bed?

You'd been in your room, laid across the bed reading a book Alex had sent you for your birthday. It was pretty good so far but you knew you wouldn't get far in it when you heard Dean singing lightly as his footsteps got closer to your open door.

You slid a bookmark in place and laid the book on your nightstand before your green eyed best friend ever Madeira to your door. You glanced up about the time he knocked “What's up Dean?” He smiled slightly “Well Sammy's gone to bed but Claire sent me a list of the top five rated horror movies. The top two we have on streaming”

A grin split your face “Go get them up, I'll grab drinks and meet you in the TV room” he winked at you “that's my girl” then turned to walk off down the hall.

You let out a sigh if only he knew what it did to you when he did shit like that. That wink, calling you his girl. The way he always invited you to watch movies, go for late night drives or how gentle he was patching you up after hunts. You shook your head to clear those thoughts out, he was your best friend. Yeah he was drop dead gorgeous but you couldn't help that you had eyes. You wouldn't ever cross a line he'd never acted as if he wanted to cross and risk that relationship.

____________________________

You were sitting next to Dean on the couch, your feet were curled up under you and Dean's favorite blanket was draped across you both. About halfway through the second movie a jumpscare actually got to you and without thinking you curled into his side, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckled lightly as he tucked his arm around your body “Oh come on sweetheart. I've seen you take on shit a lot scarier than that and not blink!” You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out, trying to ignore just how close your faces were “Bite me Winchester. Real life doesn't bother me because if it can touch me and hurt me I can touch it and hurt it”

He shook his head “You're something else” you raised an eyebrow “What you mean by that” he raised his hand that wasn't curled around you to push your hair back that had fallen into your face “Beautiful, smart, badass. Pretty damn close to perfect” you could feel your cheeks warm slightly. It wasn't unusual for Dean to compliment you but it always made your stomach flip. “Oh shut up” you pushed against his chest hoping to turn this semi flirtatious moment into a teasing one but damn him if he didn't cup your chin gently and lift your head to meet his eyes before a smirk slipped onto his face “Make me”

You don't know what came over you at that moment. Maybe temporary insanity? Regardless you found yourself moving forward until your lips met his. It was just a simple kiss but something you'd dreamt of for far too long. It didn't take him even half a second to react. His hands went down to your hips, pulling you over into his lap and when the action caused a light gasp to leave your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth rolling it against yours in a way that had you melting into him.

When you ground your hips down against his and a deep groan left him that was when reality set in. You were currently straddling your best friend, making out with him and damn near dry humping on the couch. You broke the kiss and damn near jumped off his lap. “I am so sorry Dean. I don't…I don't know what was going through my head”

He stood up, adjusting his jeans as he did so and your eyes flicked down to see a bulge that made your legs weak. The look in his eyes, damn how many waitresses and barmaids had you cussed over the years for having that look focused on them and now you couldn't think straight. “I wasn't exactly shoving you off” he replied taking a step closer and when you didn't back up he quickly covered the space between you pulling you into his arms “You're my best friend Y/N. Besides Sam no one on earth means as much to me as you do but that kiss was….fuck…if you want then this never happened. We'll turn on a different movie and nothing more”

“Or?” You asked, feeling your heart leap into your throat. A smirk slipped back onto his lips “Or we could go to my room and talk” “talk?” You repeated and he nodded “nothing has to happen”

________________________

A moan of Dean's name left your lips as he kissed a trail down your neck, his fingers slipping inside of you easily. “Fuck I love hear you say my name like that” he teased. It didn't take him long to find that one spot inside of you that had you clenching around his fingers and your legs shaking around his wrist.

He continued to pump his fingers lazily in and out of you as he worked you through the orgasm. When you weakly pushed at his wrist he caught your eyes before licking his fingers into his mouth, those sinful lips working as he sucked your juices off his fingers. “Taste as good as you look” you shook your head with a laugh “Take your pants off and get up here Dean” he grinned “Yes ma'am”

He stood long enough to slip his pants off then crawled up the bed, kissing his way up your body until he got to your lips. He caught them in a searing kiss that let you taste yourself on him. He pulled back enough to meet your eyes “Are you sure about this?” You nodded and felt his hardness pressed against your inner thigh “I want this”

He pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance. When he slipped inside of you a moan left both of you at the feeling. He dropped his head down against your chest once he was fully inside of you to give you time to adjust. His lips left a trail across your collarbone “you feel so damn amazing sweetheart” After a moment the discomfort of the fullness of his gave way to pleasure so you turned his face to kiss him “Move Dean”

He began to roll his hips tentatively against yours and when your reaction was your eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling that was all the clearance he needed. “Eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see you come undone” it took you a minute to focus your eyes back on him and when you did he smiled almost shyly “look at you Y/N. Damn you're perfect” he pulled almost completely out of you then slammed back in. Your hands went to his shoulders, fingernails cutting into the skin as he sat a grueling pace that filled the room with the sound of skin hitting skin and both of you moaning the other's name.

When you felt yourself reaching that peak he bit down gently on your neck “Let yourself go baby. I'm not far behind. I want to feel you come around my cock, please” Dean Winchester of all men begging you to come? Christ, that pushed you over the edge with a scream of pleasure ripping from your lips.

His thrusts faltered slightly and through gritted teeth he asked “Don't you have an iud?” You nodded and he buried himself inside of you with one final thrust. The feeling of him coming worked another small orgasm out of you that had your legs shaking around him.

When he pulled out you whimpered slightly and he apologized with a light kiss “Just gonna grab my shirt to clean you up some baby ok?” You nodded weakly and felt the bed dip before Dean was knelt between your knees “Open up for me beautiful” you slowly spread your legs and he smiled “you look so fucking gorgeous like this. All fucked out” he used his shirt to clean you up as best as he could before tossing it back to the floor.

When he laid back down next to you he ran a finger down your side which caused you to squirm. “I'll go to my room once my legs work” He slipped his arm around you to pull you back against him “Take your time. No rush”

Every insecurity and what if started to flip through your head. Dean wasn't a settling down type. He didn't like attachments because he knew that put a target on them. He cared about you enough as a friend to put himself in danger. This wouldn't work. Either he'd not want this and feel some sort of obligation from your years of friendship or worse he would feel for you what you truly felt for him and it would end with him getting himself killed to keep you safe.

______________

It took some work to slip out the bed without waking him but you managed it and slipped your clothes on quickly. You needed a shower and to get the hell out of the bunker for a few minutes. You just needed to clear your head. It was supply run day. Groceries were needed and mail needed to be checked. You'd tell Sam to let you handle it. That would give you breathing room.

When you parked your car back at the bunker Sam came out to meet you and help with bags. When you glanced behind him he shrugged one shoulder “Can I ask something that may not only be none of my business but may be uncomfortable too?”

You nodded “We've known each other for a good chunk of our lives so I'd say yeah” he grimaced as he ran a hand across the back of his neck “I heard you and Dean last night so I thought…I don't know what I thought but did something happen? Because he seemed upset that you left while he was asleep”

“Sam, I didn't want to make things weird for Dean. You know my feelings” he nodded “but did you ask him his or just assume?” You didn't have to say anything Sam saw the look in your eyes. “He's in the library cleaning guns. I've got the bags”

________________

You could hear the clinking of metal when you got closer to the library. You stopped right inside the doorway and watched Dean for a moment. The way he handled the guns was a thing of beauty. He could probably break them down, clean them and put them back together in his sleep at this point.

He didn't look up from the colt before saying “You made it back in one piece” you nodded lamely “Dean can we talk?” He laid the colt down and raised his eyes to meet yours “Let me guess where this is going. You had a good night but don't want nothing to change”

You swallowed hard under the intensity of his stare “Can I talk without you putting words in my mouth?” He waved a hand to say go ahead “Dean you're my best friend and I love you, I fell in love with you. Last night was fucking amazing but I don't want to make you regrets things, you don't do love, you don't do relationships”

“because why? Dean's a man whore that just bed hops? Because Dean is incapable of love? Because despite us being best friends for over a decade there's no possibility that I fell in love with you too? There's no possibility i fucking wanted to wake up with the woman I love in my arms?” You flinched at his tone despite your heart flipping at his words “You love me?” He stood up and walked around the table “How could I not?”

You took a step back putting your back to the wall. He stood right in front of you, leaning a hand on the wall just over your head but giving you room to move “I love you Y/N. I'm in love with you. Last night was everything. Now what other demons are lurking in your head cause you know I don't mind taking on each and every one of those sons of bitches”

“What if you get hurt protecting me?” You asked and he smiled “baby I'd do that now but I know for the most part you can handle yourself and don't act like you're not self sacrificing either” you laughed despite yourself “What if you get bored of one woman?” He grinned “unlikely but we can always role play sweetheart. Believe me I mean it when I say you're fucking perfect for me”

“What if…” he cut you off by saying “What if you stop giving me excuses and let me kiss you? We could both die tomorrow and if that happens it happens but I'd rather have a day knowing you were completely my girl then live the rest of our lives just having part of you. I'm yours, you mine?” You nodded “Always. Now kiss me” He grinned “Yes ma'am”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff

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buckyalpine · 11 months

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Bucky likes what he sees

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

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

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

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

However the guy doesn’t seem to get it.

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

Bucky doesn’t like it.

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

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

“Never mind, I think she’s marr-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come again. Wife?”

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

“What’s terminator doing”

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

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

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

“THREE YEARS?!”

“Steve, I can explain-

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES”

“Tony-

“YOU BITCH”

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

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

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

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

“Uh huh, sure”

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

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

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

“James-

“LIAR”

“Steve-

“Bitch”

It was going to be a long night.

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that-sarcastic-writer · 7 months

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A Good Father

Dad!Dean Winchester X Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Dean has a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl. The perfect family. Maybe it's time to have a real home, too.

Part 2 of A Good Man but can be read as a standalone. This is actually how supernatural ended thank you very much

Warnings: not much, candy cane fluff, foul language. Still minors dni cause I don't want minor on my blog

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Why not post it right? I love Dean with all my heart. That's nothing new. Enjoy the teeth rooting fluff cause I don't have the mental capacity to write smut rn :,)

Sleep still covered your eyes as you rubbed them softly. It couldn't have been later than six a.m., or at least what you saw through half-closed eyes on your phone screen when you woke up. You weren't fully sure, you were still processing that you were awake. You hadn't entirely wanted to get out of bed, but the lack of your husband's warmth all but forced you out of the comfort of your covers. Your feet took you to the study first. That's normally where you would find the brothers anyway. But you only saw Sam.

"Morning." You mumbled softly, running a hand over your face as you walked over to the younger Winchester.

Sam lifted his eyes from the ancient looking book in front of him, and he gave you a warm smile.

"Oh, hey, good morning."

You stood beside him, leaning a hand on the table as you looked around for Dean with a small frown.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the kitchen with Rosie. She woke up like an hour ago, so he's making her breakfast." He answered with a smile.

Your own lips irked up in pleasant surprise. Normally, Rosalie— yours and Dean's little girl— would come running to wake you— or both you and Dean, depending who was home at the time. You never minded that she would be up before you since Sam was always up before sunrise, and he loved spending time with his niece. But it did surprise you a bit that Dean didn't wake you at all this morning. Though, you were more so in awe at the fact that he had decided to take care of her that morning by himself.

Truth was, he had been gone a while, almost a week. That had been the longest he had spent on a hunt ever since she was born— five years ago. And your little girl was definitely missing her dad. She loved you, no doubt about it, but the little one was a daddy's girl for sure, but you blamed Dean for spoiling her so much. So she was feeling his absence greatly. She cried almost every night, asking why daddy wasn't there to tuck her in. It broke your heart a hundred times over to see her so heartbroken. When Dean came home last night, she all but clung to him, refusing to leave his side. And you guessed that had carried over to this morning.

"Thanks, Sam." You patted his shoulder and padded through the long halls of the bunker to the kitchen. You held in your breath as you peaked your head through the door and you nearly teared up at the sight.

"You think mommy and Sammy will like these?" Dean pursed his lips, nudging at the tiny human resting on his hip as three different pans with pancake batter, sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs cooked on the stove.

"Uh-huh. It looks yummy." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

"Yeah, sure does." Dean shrugged, lips pulled into a proud grin at his own work. He always was a great cook.

He stood for a second, keeping an eye on one thing as he moved around another with a spatula and still somehow held a five year-old on his hip. He had his attention somewhere else, so he almost missed the tiny voice in his ear.

"I missed you, daddy." Rosie mumbled, her soft voice almost inaudible against him. Dean looked down at her, his eyes slightly big and his lips parted. He stared at her for a long second before he said anything. He was wondering just what the fuck he ever did to deserve something like this.

"I… I missed you too, baby. Always." He sighed out, his chest aching with an indescriptible feeling as he brushed some loose strands behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

You were silent for a long minute, lips slightly parted and eyes filled with awe as you leaned against the doorframe to watch the sight in front of you. Dean, still in his pajamas, with his little girl on his hip as he cooked. He was saying something to her, or so you figured since you heard her giggles, her tiny hands bunched around his t-shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was smiling too.

"I'm deeply hurt. Making breakfast without me?" You spoke up, feigning hurt.

Dean turned around, he smiled at you at first but when Rosie started giggling at you, hiding deeper into his chest, he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, busted. Told you mommy would find out." He shook his head, holding back a smile as you approached them.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. He gave you a shrug with a toothy smile that showed the edges of his canines, and he gave you that innocent puppy dog look. You groaned out.

"We'll talk later." You warned, but your tone was playful. You finally slipped a smile as you stood on the tip of your toes to give Dean a kiss on the lips. He happily leaned down to meet you halfway. And then you kissed your little girl, leaving kisses all over her tiny face.

She giggled, nearly jumping out of her dad's arms into yours. Dean happily passed her over to you, his hip starting to get numb. You held her happily, pressing a kiss to the mess of her bedhead. God, the more this one grew, the more she looked like Dean. The same green eyes, the same freckled cheeks. But she had your nose, and her hair was a shade darker than Dean's, closer to Sam's brown. But you knew that she would be the spitting image of her dad when she grew older.

"Did you help daddy make breakfast?" You asked Rosie, and she nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! I helps daddy make pancakes." You gasped, lips parted to share her excitement.

"Those are gonna be the yummiest of pancakes, right sweetheart?" Dean leaned down, nudging her cheek with his finger. She nodded.

"Alright, little one, go sit with Sammy, we'll bring you out some pancakes, okay?" You told the little girl, and she nodded again, mumbling an 'okay'. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you set her down her tiny feet. She had spent her whole short life in this bunker. You were sure she could find her way around the general area.

"Tell Sammy he's a nerd for me." Dean called out to Rosie as she ran off, chanting that her uncle Sammy was a nerd. Dean was smiling proudly to himself. He was raising her right.

"You're an ass." You playfully scolded him, and he gave you a look of feign innocence. He shrugged at you.

"I ever tell you how beautiful you look in the morning?" He irked his lips at you, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled you close. God he had missed you so fucking much.

"Missed you, too, hun." You leaned up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tried to hide it, muffle the sound, but he winced when your hand touched his cheek.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately pulled back to look at his face. You hadn't noticed the red bruise on his cheek, on the purple bruising around his eye. You gasped quietly, gently brushing the tip of your fingers over the bruised skin. He scrunched up his face at you, about to pull back, but you shot him a sharp look.

"I'm fine, baby. Just some bruises. You shoulda seen the other guy." He grinned, trying to humor you, but the concern didn't leave your face.

"I don't want to, actually." You sighed softly, your eyes falling to his chest, avoiding his eyes.

You wouldn't say it to his face, not actually. How could you? He never lied to you, from the moment he wanted something real with you he told you the truth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with him. Sammy and hunting come with the package— he told you. And you accepted it. All of it. You married him anyway. You gave him a daughter anyway. But God, it terrified you beyond words that he was still hunting. That he still left you and your little girl for days at a time. And that he would come home with new scars and bruises that would last days. But at times— like this one— you feared that neither of them would come home at all.

"Sweetheart…" There was a bit of warning in his voice. He could read you so easily. He grabbed your face, forcing your head up to look at him now. "What is it?"

"You worry me, Dean. Look at your face. I don't even want to know how it looks under your shirt." Your eyes fell to the side, and your chest filled with ache as you tried to say the right words. "I'm sorry, I know I have no right to guilt trip you. But your daughter missed you, I missed you, and we need you, Dean, that's all."

Dean said nothing at this, his face stayed unreadable as he listened to you. And he heard you, he heard you loud and clear. He felt pressure on his chest and a sick feeling to his stomach. Fuck, he had grown soft.

"C'mere." He pulled you to his chest. He rested his hand on your hair, and he sighed softly when you threw your arms around his torso. "You know I love you, and Rosie, so much, right?"

You nodded against his chest. "I know babe, I love you, too."

We need you, Dean.

"Daddy! I told uncle Sammy he's a— a nerd!" Rosie announced loudly when she saw you and Dean again. And you had to hide your smile at the pointed look Sam shot his older brother.

Dean played dumb, his lips falling open, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm telling ya, Sammy, I dunno where she learns it from."

"Yeah, great parenting dude." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and he could only snort in response.

"Yeah, well, here's my apology." Dean shrugged, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Sam with a shit eating smile. Sam pretended to be offended, but he ate the plate in front of him without protesting.

"Alright, Rosie, you wanna eat some pancakes before school?" You set the plate with the smaller portion of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she nodded happily.

"Yes, please!" She excitedly grabbed a fork and dug in, but stopped a second later and looked at Dean. "Daddy can I has syrup?"

"Sure, baby." He practically saturated her plate with syrup and then his own. You shook your head at how alike they were already. You shared a knowing look with Sam and sighed softly, eating from your own plate.

You didn't often have the chance to have breakfast as a family, so you always treasured little moments like this when you had them. And deep in your heart, you wished you had moments like this more.

~~~~~~

"Sweetheart, you in here?" Dean peeked his head into your shared bedroom, his eyes darting around for a few seconds, and then his lips curved up at the sight of you on your shared bed, face deep in your laptop.

"Hi love," You smiled at him, setting your laptop aside to greet him. He happily joined your side, his lips pressing a kiss to yours instantly. "You left Rosie at school, right?"

Your words were stern as was the look you gave him. He pulled back and pouted. You were definitely scolding him for the time he decided to take Rosalie on a drive with Baby just because she asked instead of dropping her off at school.

"'Course I did. No rides in Baby this time, I promise." He smiled at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Hope so." He saw you reach for your laptop again so he decided to speak again.

Dean thought about it. He thought about it all morning. He drove around town for another hour just to get his thoughts straight.

"Listen, I was thinkin' 'bout what you said this morning.."

You shook your head at him, "I'm sorry, Dean, I know I shouldn't have. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Hey, no, don't do that. Let's not forget about it." You frowned at him, but you didn't respond, so he kept talking. "You're right. I know you are. Hell, I got thrown around so hard, I don't know how I got outta bed this morning. I thought about you, thought about Rosie. Thought about my old man, too."

You frowned softly, resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair gently, "Dean.."

"I don't want to be like my old man. I don't want to leave you and Rosie alone anymore, I just can't."

You straightened up, a bit unsure where he was getting at.

"Dean, baby, what are you trying to say?"

"You and Rosie deserve a normal life, a house, all of that shit." Dean breathed out the words, and he held your face in his hands, a tiny smile on his lips. "I want to try it. A normal life. Don't you?"

"I… Dean.." You sighed out softly, attempting to process his words. You stared at him long and hard, and all you saw was love, his green eyes were sincere. "I wouldn't force you to give up hunting. I mean, that's all you've known? And what about Sam? I just—"

"That's exactly it. I'm… I'm so goddamn tired of the life. Don't get me wrong, we save people, hell, we've saved the world, but is that really all worth it if I can't come home to my wife and daughter?" He tilted his head, his free hand was on your thigh, and he squeezed softly. "And Sammy, I know he's tired of it too. He's always wanted a normal life. But he stayed because of me. If I get out, I know he'll do it, too. He's done it before. Who knows, maybe he can find his own pretty girl to marry and have a couple of kids with."

For the longest time, Dean had refused to even consider doing anything else with his life, doing anything better. This was all he had ever known, all he was ever actually good at, right? But lately, God, just lately, he was seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. You and Rosalie were right there. And if you were there with him, the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Dean, I love you, I loved you then, hunter and all, and I will love you no matter what. But if you want to settle down.." You breathed out a soft laugh, the words sounding so nice when you said them out loud. You leaned closer to him, a smile on your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. "We'll settle down. A house, normal jobs, play dates, all of it."

"Christ, what did I ever do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled wide, and he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was warm, loving.

"Mhmm, so, what would a former hunter do for a living?"

"I'm pretty good with cars aren't I? What do you say? Think I should open my own car shop?"

Your husband as a mechanic? That wouldn't be half bad.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural

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wrrrenff · 5 months

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How the Stardew Valley Bachelors React When the Farmer Injures Themselves

TW:// slight injury

Ahh... The crops have all been watered and the animals all have been fed. I deserve a snack!

The farmer starts their trek back to their farmhouse, thinking about what they might throw together in the kitchen. Suddenly you adorable pet bolts in front of you trying to chase a bird, and trips you! You land hard on the ground. You groan, your body feeling sore but overall fine, and get up. You dust yourself off only to notice that you landed on some sticks and they scraped up your arm pretty bad. It honestly didn't really hurt. It did look pretty ugly though. Hopefully no one will notice it once it's all cleaned up...

Harvey:

'Hey Far-'

Notices IMMEDIATELY

I mean c'mon of course he does. HES A DOCTOR

Doctor mode activated

Asks if he can take a closer look and fully inspects your arm

Asks what you used to clean it and scolds you when you say you just rinsed it off

Drags you back to his office and properly washes and bandages you

He's been so worried about what caused this the whole time but doesn't ask. He want you to share the cause only if you're comfortable

Let's out the biggest sigh of relief when he finds out it wasn't anything serious that caused this

Is on your ass making sure you are properly cleaning the wound and changing your bandage

Will softly kiss your bandages and forehead

'Thank yoba you have such an attentive doctor to take care of you'

Alex:

Despite how tough and nonchalant Alex may seem, I think he would be pretty worried and maybe even a little squeamish toward your injury

He does get injured sometimes playing gridball but the man is clueless when it come to caring for those injuries

He would usually just go to his grandma for help... which is exactly what he did with you

'Grandma can you help the farmer? They're hurt pretty bad. I-I just want to make them feel better'

After Evelyn patches you up, he grabs a blanket and something from his room then suggests you two go take a walk on the beach

Once at the beach he lays out the blanket and you both sit

That's when he pulls out his mothers music box and opens it, letting the soothing music play

'Mom would hum this while taking care of me and it always help me feel better. Maybe it'll be the same for you'

He will hold you and kiss you to help you forget about your pain

Shane:

I feel like he wouldn't notice immediately. Maybe 2 or 3 days after it happened and it's already pretty scabbed over

'Woah farmer, did one of you chickens get you?'

Tries to keep it together but is freaking out inside

Buys you a drink to 'help with the pain'

Gets a drink for himself to calm the fear of other things that could hurt you

Starts taking more 'walks around the valley' just to stop by the farm and make sure you stay safe

Sam:

'How'd you get that mean scrape farmer?''

He wasn't even fazed

He almost immediately assumed you just hurt yourself farming

He knew it couldn't be serious since you were still acting like your usual self

Sam has had some nasty injuries from skating around so he was a PRO when it came to cleaning and bandaging

Kept on you to change you bandages

Once he got a bad infection from not cleaning his scrape enough and he DOES NOT want you to have to deal with that

Will force you to hang with him and watch movies/eat snacks to keep you from overexerting yourself

Elliot:

If he sees your injury fresh I fully believe this man would faint

'Oh darling what happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it an animal? O-oh it was some... sticks? Those dastardly sticks!!"

Man will treat you like you broke you arm

I'm talking, making your food for you, drawing you baths, tucking you into bed, even doing your farming for you

You insist your fine but he wont hear it

Will cover your arm in kisses to make you feel better

Stays on top of cleaning your wound

He will definitely take inspiration from this moment for his novel

Sebastian:

Noticed it as soon as you walked into his room

He didn't want to say anything about it but you noticed his eyes were basically glued to your arm

His mind immediately went to the mines since he's seen you go in and out many times while he goes out to smoke

Is so relieved that is was just from some stupid sticks

He will absentmindedly rub the injury lightly when he's sitting near you

Lets you lay in his bed while he works to make you feel better, definitely not because he wants to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't hurt yourself more

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winchester-reload · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Tags: hurt/comfort, canon divergent, idiots in love

Read on AO3

All right, we’re officially outta gauze. We talkin’ about it?”

Cas sighed. His eyes swam along the ceiling, just as they’d been doing the entire evening. Through every stitch and wrap, he wouldn’t bring ’em down. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said quietly. “It was just bad luck.”

“Uh uh. This ain’t bad luck. Bad luck is what Sammy’s gonna have if I lose you messy on a bad hunt. So how bout you go ahead and try that for me again.”

“It was just supposed to be one mimic—”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation— You know better than that!”

“Things happen, Dean. Things outside of our control. This was that. Things happened. It was a bad lead, but I made it out. That’s what should matter right now.”

Dean shook his head, tossed an empty gauze roll, now just a cardboard skeleton, and watched it clatter against the tin garbage can. Roll away. Tip and settle on its side near the door. It felt like it’d wobbled into his gut. He fussed at a frayed string along the fresh wrap at Cas’ chest, red already weeping through the cotton. He waited. When Cas still didn’t look at him, he sloughed the whole nurse routine and slid gentle fingertips up the bruises on his neck. Kissed the rough turn of his jaw as he planted a knee on the bed and stretched over him, careful of where he put his weight. Stopping only as Cas reluctantly caught his eye. “Yeah, it does matter,” Dean agreed. “Which is why you can’t just rip your grace out and run, balls out, toward the first hunt you find. I don’t care how good you are. You shoulda told me. Or you should’ve at least told Sam.”

“I did tell Sam—“

“Before it was a 9-1-1, Cas! Okay? Before! That wasn’t okay, and I’m pissed at you for it!”

Tears cropped up in Cas’ eyes, the deep frown in his brow waning to worry. “I know,” he relented. “I’m pissed at me too. It was stupid.”

“It was stupid—damn stupid.” Dean felt it go, the little water balloon of emotions in his chest that used to have brick sides and no air holes. It was exposed now, popped easily with Cas’ pins. “I can’t lose you, you understand? Not again. I don’t think I could come back from it.” Tears ate down his face, and Cas urgently chased them, trying to thumb them away. Like the whole world would fall with them if they got down too far.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, exhaustion, maybe pain, finally winning out in his stubborn body. Or maybe he just couldn’t handle seeing Dean raw. Maybe that’s what shattered him every damn time. “It was just supposed to be one Mimic. Just one Mimic.” His own tears escaped, rolled through his temples into his hair, then onto the soft pillow behind his head, and Dean suddenly felt compelled to stop those too.

“All right, that’s enough.” He kissed Cas’ cheek, the wet trail at his temple. Dragging the tip of his nose gently alongside Cas’ again, where it belonged. It was easy sometimes to forget he was a warrior. A real one, not like Dean. He was Heaven-forged and army-trained. At one time, he was the leader of his own battalion. An angel strong enough to crack God’s hold and receptive enough to learn to love. Wise enough to understand the weight of both. And all of that was tucked into a fragile human now, healing beneath the sheets of Dean’s bed. A thought that made Dean feel unbelievably tiny and incomparably huge.

“We’re okay,” he said as he kissed Cas' mouth. Then, “You’re okay now,” because that seemed even more important. A smile finally broke away from him, running wild against the heat on Cas’ skin. “I can’t believe you got all seven vamps on your own, you showoff.”

#happy canon day!#something small for you all 💙💚#destiel #destiel art #my art #my fic

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 28 days

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 12

MASTAPOST

huge credit for their support and betaing to @brekitten

And credit to @adonneniel for sam’s last line :3

Tucker’s fingers flew over the keyboard as sweat rolled down his eyes. The cave was supposed to be cool and damp, but he felt as if placed under a heat lamp. Lines of code, addresses and file names filled the screen. New windows and notifications popped up faster than he could chase them down. The presence of his giant in the hacking world crept closer and closer. His chest cramped from heavy breaths. Sam was barely a few feet away, muttering an incantation, but the distance felt like miles. Each new line of code seemed to shift the walls of the cave inwards or outwards depending at random. He kept going. He couldn’t stop. Not with Danny out there and alone.

He always thought himself as good at hacking. Good with tech. The guy who could turn Skulker’s suit into puppetry. The guy who could out-hack fucking Technus. But maybe he was always just a small fish in a small pond. As the enemy hacker closed in on Tucker, each wave surrounding him, infiltrating like rats into a battered house of cards.

Tucker knew it was inevitable, but to see it happen was something else.

The enemy hacker got it. Got everything Tucker had ever stored on this laptop. His location, his destroying of evidence. His tampering with the sonars to ignore Danny. His attempt at erasing the video footage showing Danny sneaking off. Everything was in the hands of a stranger whose face Tucker would never see.

The only thing keeping him from fully breaking down was the comfort that the real incriminating data was safely locked away in his room, on a server that would brick itself if anyone other than Team Phantom tried to get in. That he made sure of, not just with tech, but with Sam’s spells.

It was cold comfort, though. Not a complete catastrophe, but still fucking awful.

Tucker sat back, watching glumly, helpless to do anything more. His deletion program ran in the background, destroying everything, but it was too late anyway.

Sam growled in frustration. “It’s not working. This stupid Mercator Projection map is fucking with the spell. I can’t tell if he’s in Hawaii or Mexico City.”

She crumpled up the cheap map they’d bought from the tourist shop and stomped on it with a thumping vengeance. They would’ve brought an entire globe, the bigger the better, but that would get them noticed, and flying under the radar was the whole point.

“Any luck?”

Tucker gestured to his computer, about to be bricked again. “This guy’s a monster. A monster. I’m like a tiny ant compared to him. Every time I make a move he’s made fifteen more.”

“There’s gotta be something else we can do. Come on, Tuck-”

Then the waterfall sprayed over the cove, revealing the Fenton Family SAV.

Shit.

He and Sam locked eyes in a second. Then they broke eye contact. They and Danny had gone over plans for what to do if certain things happened. If someone stole the files on his servers. If someone followed Danny without noticing. If someone found their cove.

Above all else, above everything else, don’t tell them about Danny. Don’t even hint towards it. Play dumb and obfuscate.

Tucker realised belatedly that they never got to practice all of those plans.

Mrs Fenton leapt off the bow, and marched like a woman possessed. Her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders squared up. Her jawline set.

Tucker felt like he was going to die.

“Where’s Danny?” Mrs Fenton all but ordered. “Where is he? Is it true? Is it true that that- that- that Phantom brainwashed all of you into helping him!? What did Phantom do to him?! What happened to my baby?!” Each question echoed louder, more panicked than the last.

What was the rulebook for this situation again?!

Tucker’s mouth dried. Every millisecond not responding put the fear of God into his heart. “Who the heck is Phantom?”

Mrs Fenton’s expression hardened further, if that was possible. Wrong thing to say, fuck.

Sam stepped in front of him, pose defiant, but arms shaking just enough for Tucker to notice. “That’s what we’ve been doing. We’ve been looking for Danny because the adults sure as fucking hell won’t.”

Looking for him, and Damian Wayne, but maybe bringing him up was going to be more trouble than it was worth, seeing as behind Mrs Fenton, Danny’s dad and holy shit was that Bruce Wane trailed up behind her. If it weren’t for the situation, Tucker felt like would’ve died anyway from meeting his idol.

Mr Wayne spoke up next. “I’m sorry we neglected the case of your friend, but you should’ve informed the authorities as soon as you suspected. How long have you known and not told anyone?”

Because telling people about Danny would land him on a VIP seat in the operating theatre! Because it was your freaking son he was trying to save?

Tucker couldn’t tell them that. What could he tell? He clenched his jaw like a vice, searching for a way out of this…

“You guys don’t get to tell us what to do.” Sam ground out. “We’ve been helping Phantom protect this freaking island from the sirens for months, with no help from any of you.”

Right! Good work Sam. Just a tiny hint of the truth and the real secrets stay hidden. Sam, he could kiss her right now (not that he’d ever want to).

Mrs Fenton raised her voice. “Samantha, we’ve been over this. Phantom isn’t a hero like Batman or Wonder Woman or Superman. He’s an inhuman monster staking claim over a territory. He’s tricking you kids!”

“Phantom’s saved us more than we could count! He’s risked his neck for this town.” Sam spat out, squaring up to Mrs Fenton on her steel-toed boots.

“He’s protecting his assets! If Phantom is such a protector, then why would he threaten the mayor, lead the invasion of town and work with Showenhower!?”

“It was all just a m-misunderstanding, Mrs Fenton, I swear!” Tucker said.

Mrs Fenton continued. “And now Danny’s gone. We know he’s been supplying Phantom with our inventions. Don’t you try and play dumb with us, young man. We’ve seen the footage of Danny sneaking out.”

Tucker’s blood ran thinner, and thinner. The cold sweat returned in full force.

Mr Wayne came between them, trying to put space between the two, without much success. “Please, if Phantom is hurting or threatening you in any way, it’s ok to tell us. We can keep you safe. We just need to know what happened to Danny.”

Sam gulped. Loud enough that even Tucker could hear it. It was at times like these Tucker wished Danny’s parents were as inattentive as they were made out to be by the public.

Their silence spoke volumes enough. Tucker wasn’t Batman, and neither was Sam. They didn’t have the chops to talk their way out of this, not enough Charisma to hit the DC checks, but they were also cornered here by the adults. One way or another, Tucker feared for Danny’s secrets.

Mr Fenton spoke up next, his voice uncharacteristically contemplative. “When I showed Danno the new security system and cameras in the lab and arsenal two weeks ago, it felt like he wasn’t as pumped up as I was. At first I thought it was nothing, but looking back it almost looked like fear.”

Well duh! You were showing him all the stuff you were gonna use to tear him into itty bitty pieces! Who wouldn’t be afraid for their life?!

Bruce Wayne crouched to their level, eyes soft like they were traumatized orphans that he was gonna adopt or something. “Did Phantom threaten Danny into giving him wea-”

“NO!” Tucker shouted instantly. A beat passed. His voice echoed through the cave. Shit. With the way the adults were looking at him, he might as well have said yes.

Sam pushed Mr Wayne away, or at least she tried to. The man barely budged, so she just stepped back from him. “Why do you care?! Already looking for another kid to replace the one you lost?”

The Fentons’ eyes widened, their faces in shock. Mr Wayne looked like he’d been punched through the gut and made into a donut. Ouch Sam, what the fuck?!

His voice lowered into a dark timbre, his expression steely cold. “I don’t want any more kids to get hurt. This Phantom needs to be stopped.”

Sam clutched his hand like a clamp. Tucker’s heart sank. What had they just done?

Please be alright, Danny, and Damian Wayne…

In an ocean far far away…

Damian sniffed the water as he clung to Danny’s shoulders again, his tail wrapped around the black and white boy’s waist. The kid had been doing that a lot lately, sniffing. Claimed it was to hone his senses.

“I believe I can smell Atlanteans nearby.” Damian said. Danny took the moment to verify his suspicions with his whole whiff.

“Yeah, looks it.” Danny said. He was a little suspicious though. Damian had refused to speak about what happened in the Atlantean outpost and how he got all this cool stuff. Surely he could’ve have fought them off, so he probably snuck around. Danny couldn’t imagine how terrifying that kind of thing would be. At least he knew his parents and what they were capable of when sneaking around the house and Amity. This kid was literally just some normal rich kid until all this happened.

“Why do you mention it?” Danny asked.

“I believe we it would be beneficial for us to partake in raid.”

Danny blinked.

A raid.

“You raided the Atlanteans and got this stuff. Like, legit raiding.” Danny said, dumbfounded.

“I met little resistance.”

Danny needed a moment to breathe here. His gills flexed open and closed.

“And now you want to raid another settlement. Why? We’re still good on food, and we even have veggies!”

Damian shook his head. “We need a map.”

Danny huffed, fins straightening. “We have a map literally up there!” he pointed up at the orange and purple sky over the sunset. The brightest stars were already beginning to show, with many more on the way.

“The Atlanteans likely keep maps of the local area, including human settlements and islands. There we can find further resources, and establish contact with the human world again.”

Huh. That was actually a pretty solid plan. His friends, sister (and maybe parents, if they noticed) were likely worried sick. A phone wouldn’t do them very well in the water, but even just a call letting them know they were ok would do wonders for their mental health.

That still left one teensy, tiny little issue, though.

“But how did you raid them the first time?!”

“It matters not.” Damian said, fins puffing up with pride. “All that matters is that with your skillset, such a mission will be as easy as breathing underwater.”

This kid was having way too much fun boasting of things no kid should’ve been able to accomplish. Then again, he showed some pretty insane marksmanship with the Wrist Ray the other day, so maybe he really did have the chops to back the ego up.

That acknowledgement did not stop Danny from pulling Damian to his chest, and administering a thorough nooggie, however.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #bruce wayne #good parents jack and maddie #good parent bruce wayne #tucker foley #sam manson #tuck and sam are doing their best lol #it's a stressful situation #they're 14 and they've only been Team Phantom for 6 months #sirens

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margarethx · 3 months

Text

There is a strange man standing at Sam's door.

Pale, with long hair and beginnings of a thin beard; his eyes covered by a baseball cap, but glinting in the shadows in a way that suggests he's sober, or at least alert.

He stands in an ostensibly relaxed pose.

He still looks like he's one abrupt sound away from bolting.

He knocked on the door instead of ringing the bell, as if he knew Sam was home and close enough to hear the noise muffled slightly by the glove covering his hand.

There's no one around at this hour and the entrance to Sam's house is obscured from the street by a few bushes and trashcans pulled out for the garbage men to collect in the morning. If someone broke inside, no one would be able to tell if they weren't already looking directly into Sam's small garden. Which, likely, no one does.

Sam also doesn't have any friends who visit him at home and both sides of his close family live a few states away. He tries his best to keep in touch with them, but if he disappeared from the radar for a couple of days, maybe even weeks, no one would be alarmed. So... if the stranger at his door harms him, it'll take a long time for anyone to notice. Maybe a couple of people at the VA will have some questions after the weekend, but his schedule is not regular enough for anyone to think something's off when he's not there the next Monday.

With all that in mind, Sam pushes away from the peephole he's been peering through for the last minute to unlock the door.

The man outside looks a bit lost. In need of assistance. And Sam's spent way too many years risking his life to save others to back down now, just because he's what... scared? Sam's not scared. He fought with literal helicopters and won such duel multiple times. A strange man with no fashion sense visiting his home is nothing compared to that.

The guy's probably homeless, simply trying his luck in a safer neighbourhood. It's better if Sam's the one to open his door instead of some weirdo down the street, who'll chase him away with a gun.

Sam is, technically speaking, a weirdo with a gun tucked into the waistline of his sweatpants, though he's not planning on using it. And if he'll have to, he won't be excited about that. Which is a key difference in his eyes.

Sam's a couple of years removed from the initial fear and PTSD fuelled paranoia that haunted him after leaving the Air Force. He did the work. Went through therapy. Read the books. Pushed himself to go out there; to mingle with people without succumbing to the need to crawl under the nearest table at the first louder noise.

He's not removed enough, however, to answer the door completely unarmed. Which is how he ends up here. With a gun concealed on his back, opening his home for a random man, whose intentions might range from simply asking Sam for something like directions to the nearby cemetery, to making sure Sam's the one who ends up there within the next week.

The hinges screech a little as he pushes the door, which is by design. Because of the lingering paranoia of course, not because he forgot to buy a new can of WD-40 for a fifth month in a row.

The man at his porch looks up, as if alarmed by the noise. He seems surprised that Sam answered, but he smiles pleasantly right away. If Sam was listening to his aforementioned paranoia, he'd say that the smile was too quick, almost too pleasant, and too calculated to seem genuine. But he really tries to get better and not assume the worst these days.

"Hello? How can I help you?", he asks, trying to match the energy and sound just kind enough for the ghost of his mother to not appear with her disapproving face in his next dream.

The man hesitates a little, giving Sam a second to take a proper look at him.

What's most striking about him is the bulky built. Broad shoulders and strong legs, paired with a - probably - flat stomach. It's difficult to see with all the layers of clothing the guy's wearing, but overall, he seems like a naturally muscular person hidden under an ill-fitting jacket and too-baggy jeans.

There's some underlying stiffness to his pose - something that Sam's already noticed at first glance, but which is all the more evident now that he can see the full silhouette of the man

If Sam had more time to assess his guest, he's probably dwell on the fact that his face looks disturbingly familiar. Or on the fact that said face, along with the rest of the body, is very much Sam's type. But he does not have that time, so he cuts this line of thinking as quickly as it forms in his brain.

"I've...," answers the man, finally. "I know it'll sound weird, but I..." He pauses once more, looking down at his palms, as if he's a student trying to cheat by reading the answers of the inside of his hand. "A guy I met recently goes to the VA. The one you work at," the man clarifies unnecessarily. "And I've heard that you've helped a couple of his friends before, so I thought that... well."

He stops talking, losing steam by the end. Speaking seems to be taking a toll on him and he stops even looking at Sam by the end of his vague explanation.

It's enough, however, to calm Sam's nerves. He unclenches his jaw and all the other muscles his body readied for a fight that never came and the immediate relief almost startles an embarrassing moan out of him. He didn't even realize how tense he was. He hopes that the guy didn't notice too.

"It's okay, man. I get it," he replies with a smile.

And he does get it. He's been there. He knows how it feels to finally take a step in the new direction. To try staying neutral or cynical because of misplaced self-preservation instincts, but feeling the hope already filling your chest anyway.

The man lifts his head and shoots a shy smile Sam's way.

"I hoped you would," he says. "My friend said a couple of his old buddies from the army been to your groups and it helped. So I... I wanted to check for myself.

Sam's smile becomes much more genuine.

"Glad to hear that," he replies honestly. It's always good to know that his efforts actually affect the people who struggle the same way that he did. He's curious which vets his guest is referring to, but he stops himself from asking. It's not relevant right now. "And you'd like to join one of my groups too?"

The answering nod is a little unsure, but Sam can work with that.

"I'll give you some pamphlets and the schedule for my next three meetings," he offers, trying to remember where he put the pile of fliers from the VA which littered his coffee table for a few months at one point.

Before he has the time to fully move from the doorstep he's stopped by a strong and sudden grip on his wrist. Very strong. Almost crushing.

The alarm bells in his head blare, his vision narrowing, while his other hand makes a move to his back where a gun is still hidden in his sweatpants.

But then the pressure is gone from Sam's arm and the man is looking right at him, confused, then mortified. Whether he's scared of his own reaction or the gun he must sense in the vicinity, Sam cannot tell.

"I'm so, so sorry! I don't know why I did that, just... Let me..."

He stops. Sam blinks at him.

There're good ten seconds of uncomfortable silence before any of them speaks again.

"It's fine," Sam says, carefully. He wets his lips and the man's eyes track the movement. "Like I said... I get it." He tries to laugh, but it comes out a little strangled. "I don't like sudden movements too."

The guy at the door almost shrinks, his shoulders going up, as if he's trying to cover his face even more. But he seems relieved. Like it's easy to just have someone who understands, when the explanation seems too embarrassing to voice.

"Yeah..."

Sam takes a deep breath, hoping to push through the awkward moment and put the man at ease.

"Like I said, I'll go to take a pamphlet and write down my schedule for you," he says, taking a slow step inside. "I'll be back in a minute." Without waiting for a response he nods as if to silently ask the guy to stay where he is. Then looks for a pen and the fliers almost on autopilot, hoping that his porch won't be empty when he's back.

Or maybe hoping it already is.

When he steps through the door again, the man is still there. Just as shifty as before. As Sam hands him the papers, he opens his mouth, starting another apology, but Sam shushes him right away.

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." He adds a smile for reassurance. "My schedule is right here. If you can't come this month, you can always go in anyway. Ask around and find my office. We'll figure something out."

With a silent "thanks" the man starts to slowly back away from his doorstep. It seems as if he wants to stay, though. To ask for something more, but doesn't know what to say or maybe how to say it. Finally, with a small wave, he exits Sam's lawn. And then he's gone.

It takes Sam another five minutes of contemplative staring at the street to remember that his home address is not public information and neither of his former vets should know where he lives. None of them would know where to look for him outside of the VA.

Before he has the time to have a panic attack about that he finally registers the pain in his arm. He frowns and pulls up his sleeve where a set of dark, angry looking bruises form a shape of a closed palm on his skin.

He locks the door as calmly as possible, using an extra lock he hasn't taken out of the drawer since last year. He pulls the curtains over the windows, grabs his phone, and spends the rest of the day sitting on the floor with a gun between his legs, within reach.

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

Well... I don't even know what this story is xD I just sat down and wrote the first thing that came to my mind. Now I somehow ended up with a plot outline for at least 4-5 chapters. Maybe I'll even write them one day <3

Hope you enjoyed witnessing the birth of my WiP number 2309745.

[PART 2 on tumblr is here]

[Ao3 LINK is here]

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon #captain america #winter soldier #ca:tws #mcu #marvel #winterfalcon #sam x bucky #onlysambucky #samuel thomas wilson #james bucky barnes #ATWK #assassinate them with kindness

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thsillystringbeanscribbler · 4 months

Text

Bunny Slippers

Summary: While on the hunt for their dad the Winchester brothers are encouraged by Bobby to reach out to an old hunting buddy of John and Bobby. The trip leads to meeting not only a rugged hunter which is a missing puzzle piece to their dad's disappearance but also got to make the acquaintance of his lovely daughter.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader [ OC ]

Warnings: mostly fluff with a sprinkle of possible violence or angst, maybe slow burn (i'm not too sure)

Word Count: 4,685 words

Author's Note: This is my first ever fanfiction. I dont really know how to write y/n so oc is all you're getting. I recently discovered the world of Supernatural and I am in love. This story takes place during Season 1, it doesn't really follow the story line and there might be some lore in accuracies. Please be kind, and I hope you enjoy my little story.

image from Pinterest

With Bobby's wise counsel and the elusive hints scattered in John's journal, he implored the brothers to seek out Rob Blackburn, who could potentially steer them toward John. Rob, as Bobby explained, wasn't just an ally; he was a long-time comrade of both John Winchester and Bobby, often accompanying them on perilous hunts. Armed with this knowledge, Sam and Dean embarked on their journey to Boston in the trusty Impala. Dean took the wheel, immersing himself in the thumping beats of rock and roll, while Sam, map in hand, navigated the labyrinth of roads leading to Robert Blackburn's whereabouts. The pages of John's journal rustled in the background, revealing his own trek to Massachusetts, where he had joined forces with Rob to confront a formidable Wendigo.

In the early autumn morning, the Impala turned down the street of the Blackburn home, the epitome of historical charm found in Boston. The townhouse stands out with its red brick facade, large curved windows adorned with black shutters, and stately black entrance doors. Wrought iron railings line the stone steps leading up to the front doors, and mature trees along the sidewalk cast dappled shadows onto the cobblestone street. The vehicle comes to a halt in front of the winsome townhouse, with its elegance further accentuated by the cascading wisteria, lending a touch of natural beauty to the urban setting.

Dean cut the engine, his gaze shifting from the Blackburn residence to his brother. Sam, peering at Dean, broke the silence with his characteristic intensity. "So, think you're ready to face whatever's in there?" he asked, his voice tinged with both concern and determination.

Dean responded with his usual bravado, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ready? Sam, I was born ready. Let's do this." His tone was confident, almost playful, yet underscored by the seriousness of their mission.

Moving in unison, the brothers climbed the steps to the Blackburn residence. A silent exchange of resolve passed between them as Dean turned to face the ominous black door. He pressed the doorbell, and for a moment, there was only silence. Impatient, Dean began to knock forcefully, intent on getting an answer.

Before he could knock again, hurried footsteps approached from inside. The door swung open to reveal a petite, dishevelled woman. Her light auburn curls were hastily tied atop her head, and her sleepy green eyes, magnified by tortoise-rimmed circle glasses, blinked at the unexpected visitors. Dean's gaze travelled over her, taking in the oversized Van Halen band t-shirt, the long flannel Batman pyjama pants tucked into mismatched white tube socks, and the pink bunny slippers, all indicating she had indeed just rolled out of bed.

The woman, stifling a yawn and crossing her arms defensively, addressed them with a groggy, gravelly voice. "Hello? Can I help you with something?" Her sleepy demeanour contrasted sharply with the urgency of their visit.

The faintest hint of a smile played across Dean's face, a touch of warmth amidst the crisp Boston morning. The dishevelled stranger before him, a haphazardly charming vision in her comic book pyjamas and mismatched socks, sparked a flicker of amusement in his hunter's gaze. She couldn't be much older than Sam, he mused, who was barely past the threshold of twenty-two himself.

Clearing his throat, Dean straightened up a little, his eyes locking onto hers with an earnest steadiness. "Morning," he started, his voice carrying the signature gravel of a man used to long nights and the roar of a V8 engine. "Sorry to wake you, but we're looking for Rob Blackburn. The thing is," he paused, the weight of their search momentarily tightening his features, "our dad was working a case with him, and now... Dad's gone off the grid. We were hoping Rob might have some answers."

He watched her closely, not just for her response, but for any sign, any tell that might unravel the mystery of their father's whereabouts.

The woman's head tilted slightly, causing a few untamed curls to escape her hastily made morning bun. She squinted at Dean, her eyebrows knitting together in a puzzled frown. As her gaze shifted between Dean and Sam, a hint of wariness crept into her expression. "Sorry," she murmured, her free hand sliding under her glasses to rub at a sleepy eye. "But who are you guys, exactly?" she asked, her lips pursed slightly, clearly waiting for an explanation.

Dean met her gaze squarely, his expression a blend of seriousness and charm. "Name's Dean and this towering figure here is my brother, Sam," he said with a hint of a smirk. "We're here looking for Rob. You might know him through our dad, John Winchester. They go way back, and it's kind of important we talk to him." His tone carried the urgency of their quest, yet remained respectful, acknowledging the oddity of their early morning visit.

Her eyebrows lifted from their puzzled frown as the name John Winchester sparked a flicker of recognition in her features. Hesitating for a moment, she leaned slightly forward, peering past Sam and Dean to scan the street. Her green eyes settled on the shiny black Chevy parked in front of the house. Dean, noticing her gaze, followed it to the Impala.

With his trademark flirtatious smile, Dean couldn't resist a playful comment. "Hey, if you're interested, I could show you what she's really capable of," he said, nodding towards the Impala. The woman's eyes snapped back to Dean, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Realizing how his words might have sounded, Dean quickly clarified with a cheeky grin, "The Impala, I mean. A ride in the car."

She nodded silently, her cheeks now a deeper shade of red. A bit flustered, she stuttered, "Uh–" but then, meeting Sam's hazel eyes, she paused, took a deep breath, and regained her composure. "I'll be right back," she said before gently closing the door.

Dean left staring at the black door, perked up his ears as he heard her voice escalate inside, calling out, "Dad! The Winchesters are here!" After a brief silence, her voice rose again, more insistent this time, "DAD!"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look of surprise at the volume of her shout. The response came in the form of a deep, muffled reply from within. The door creaked open again, and the woman offered an awkward smile. "He'll be down so–"

Before she could finish, a tall, muscular man in plaid flannel pyjama pants and a simple grey t-shirt descended the stairs. He stood imposingly behind her, his voice deep and gravelly. "Mornin'," he greeted, eyeing the brothers. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Definitely John's boys," he observed as he extended his hand.

Dean grasped his hand firmly. "Dean," he introduced himself with a nod.

Sam followed suit, shaking Rob's hand. "Sam. It's good to meet you."

Rob's genuine smile broadened. "Rob. Nice to finally meet you boys. John's told me a lot about you two."

In the midst of the heartfelt introductions, Rob's daughter slipped out under her father's arm, who was now holding the door open. He quickly turned his head to call after her, "Jay, boil the water. We're gonna need some coffee."

Rob then stepped aside, inviting them in. "C'mon in," he said, glancing once more at the street as the brothers entered. "Damn, is that John's Impala?" he asked, intrigued.

Dean turned back to Rob, a hint of pride in his voice. "Actually, she's mine now. Dad left her to me. She's got more history and miles on her than most cars on the road. Runs like a dream, though." His words were laced with respect and a touch of nostalgia for both the car and his father.

The boys followed the barefoot Rob Blackburn into his living room. The space was a testament to a life well-lived and richly layered, a striking balance between the modern and the memorabilia of yesteryear. They stepped through the wooden archway, and Dean's gaze swept the room—a harmony of contemporary and eclectic tastes.

The living room was bathed in morning sunlight from a large, bay window framing the greenery and wisteria blossoms outside, its grandeur contrasted by the cozy array of furniture. A plush, dark green sofa accented with earth-toned pillows invited comfort and long conversations. Across the room, a pair of vintage armchairs stood guard, their fabric hinting at a past era. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, a ladder poised as if in mid-ascent, suggesting a world of knowledge and stories just out of reach. In the center, a stately wooden coffee table bore the weight of books and vases, while a Persian rug beneath whispered tales of ancient craftsmanship.

Above the mantel, a flat-screen TV was mounted, an anachronism amid the classical vibe. The mantle itself was a gallery of personal history, with frames marching across its length like milestones. Dean's eyes traced the journey of the dishevelled girl named Jay through frozen moments: school plays, graduations, and candid laughter.

One photograph, in particular, seized Dean's attention, squeezing his heart with the force of a long-forgotten song. There, captured in the stillness of time, was a young woman with auburn curls, her arm casually draped over a youthful Mary Winchester. Beside her, a younger Rob stood with an easy stance, and on the other side, John Winchester's smile reached out, as bright and as real as if he were standing in the room with them.

Dean found his voice, roughened by the swell of memory. "You've got quite the place here, Rob. Feels like a home that's seen a lot of good times," he said, his eyes not leaving the photograph.

Rob, following Dean's gaze, nodded with a touch of nostalgia. "Yeah, it's been through a lot. Every piece has a story, especially those photos," he said, his voice softening. "That one there," he pointed to the photograph that held Dean's gaze, "was from a summer BBQ we had right after John got back from a tour. Good times indeed, Dean.”

With a comforting pat on Dean's shoulder, Rob motioned towards the dark green sofa. "Please, take a seat," he said in a voice that carried the warmth of a seasoned host. Sam was already lounging there, looking every bit the part of a man ready to delve into matters of gravity and ghosts. Rob's towering presence moved towards one of the vintage armchairs, his movements measured and graceful. He sank into the chair with the ease of a man in his own sanctuary.

Dean observed Rob, taking in the rugged features that spoke of a life lived much like their father's—on the road, but always returning home. The man sitting across from him had a face that bore the marks of laughter and squinting against the sun, a generous beard that was well kept but suggested it could tell stories of its own. His hair, though tousled from sleep, had the hint of waves, and the light caught the flecks of gray that ran through it like silver threads in a tapestry. There was a certain comfort in his ruggedness, an unspoken kinship that Dean recognized well.

Rob caught Dean's gaze and chuckled, a sound that seemed to reverberate around the room. "My apologies, if I'd known Johnny's boys would be showing up on my doorstep, I'd have made myself presentable," he said, his fingers raking through his hair in a vain attempt to tame it.

Their conversation was paused as Jay quietly made her entrance, her arms full with an offering of steaming mugs. Dean's eyes followed her every step, noting the careful balance as she placed the coffee on the table with precision. The small, satisfied smile that danced across her lips made Dean's own lips twitch in response. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a look of comical frustration.

Jay stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes closed, speaking through gritted teeth. "I was so proud of not spilling coffee, I forgot people might want milk and sugar too."

Dean leaned forward, picked up one of the mugs, and met her frustrated gaze with a reassuring smile. "Don't sweat it, Jay. I take my coffee black as midnight on a moonless night," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. "It's the best way to kick-start the day, especially when there's work to be done." He took a sip, letting the rich bitterness of the coffee linger, a stark contrast to the gentle chaos of the morning.

Jay—no, Julia—looked momentarily taken aback, an unspoken question flickering in her eyes about Dean's use of her nickname. Before she could voice it, Rob intervened with a throaty chuckle that broke the brief silence. "Dean, Sam, if it wasn't already apparent, this spirited individual is my daughter Julia."

Julia's expression folded into a mix of amusement and mild embarrassment at her father's words. "Introductions must've slipped my mind earlier," Rob added, his eyes twinkling with paternal amusement.

With a graceful motion that seemed to betray her earlier fluster, Julia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Was a bit scattered, to be honest," she admitted as a soft hue painted her cheeks.

He offered her a warm, appreciative smile, and she, in turn, blushed a shade deeper, hastily picking up the one mug that held coffee lightened with milk. "Anyway, I'm—" she started, her voice trailing off as she backed away, thumbing in the direction of the staircase, "—going to get dressed."

With that, Julia turned, her retreat up the stairs as quick as it was quiet, leaving the conversation to hang in the warm, coffee-scented air of the living room.

The trio settled into an easy silence, the kind that speaks of understanding rather than discomfort. Eventually, Rob broke the stillness, setting his coffee cup down with a soft clink. "Not that I'm complaining about having John's boys over," he began, his voice even and curious, "but what brings you to my door?"

Sam, always the one to dive into the details, took the lead. "Well, Rob, from what we've pieced together with Bobby's input and clues from Dad's journal, it seems John was here in Boston not too long ago. He was helping you out with a wendigo situation," he explained. "You might have been one of the last people to see him. Now, Dean and I are crisscrossing the country, trying to track him down."

Dean, meanwhile, was only half-listening, his mind wandering as he sipped the robust black coffee. His thoughts were momentarily caught up with Julia—her surprising affinity for classic rock band shirts, her effortless command of the room, despite her earlier disarray. There was an allure there that Dean couldn't quite dismiss.

Realizing he needed to jump back into the conversation, he met Rob's gaze over the rim of his mug. "So, any chance Julia might know something that could help us out?" he asked, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of hope. It was a thinly veiled attempt to weave Julia back into their narrative—perhaps more for another encounter than actual investigative purposes.

Rob leaned back, a faint smile playing on his lips as he cradled his mug. "Julia? She wasn't really involved with the hunting side of things with John. She's the brains, does all the research," he began, but the strains of Led Zeppelin suddenly filled the room, filtering through the walls of Julia’s bedroom, in a muffled but unmistakable riff.

He laughed, a low, rich sound, and shook his head affectionately. "Yeah, she's a history major. She’s got her nose usually buried in old books. But she did dig into the Wendigo lore while John was around. Spent a few hours picking his brain, so it might be worth a shot to ask her," Rob conceded, acknowledging the potential value in speaking with his daughter once more.

As the sun arced higher in the sky outside the arch window, time seemed to fold in on itself within the Blackburn residence. The conversation ebbed and flowed naturally, the brothers and Rob exchanging tales and theories about the elusive Wendigo. Engrossed in the retelling, they barely noticed the passage of time until the Led Zeppelin anthem that had been humming in the background abruptly ceased. A hush fell over the house, and Dean couldn't help but cast a puzzled look towards Rob, who appeared unfazed by the sudden silence, continuing his story with the ease of a man accustomed to the unpredictable soundtrack of a busy household.

Dean's attention was drawn towards the hallway as a flash of red caught his eye—a pair of Converse sneakers, the unmistakable hallmark of a casual yet deliberate style. As Julia came into view, his gaze instinctively followed the line of her high-waisted jeans up to her neatly tucked-in white shirt. Gone was the disarray of the morning; in its place stood Julia, transformed. Her light auburn curls, now tamed and flowing gracefully down her back, framed a face of calm composure.

She paused in the archway, and for a moment, there was a silent exchange as Dean's eyes met hers—no longer sleepy, but sharp and full of life.

Rob, seizing the opportunity, looked up at his daughter with a mix of pride and practicality. "Perfect timing, Jay. Do you recall any of the details from when John helped out with the Wendigo case? I'd take a stab at finding the research in the office, but I still can't make heads or tails of your organization system."

Julia's lips pursed lightly, a subtle indication she was preparing to delve into her mental archives, but before she could articulate her thoughts, Rob interjected with decisiveness. "Great, I'll go get changed, and you can show the boys what you've got."

Julia nodded, a silent agreement to take the lead, and Dean couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration for the way she navigated her father's expectations with grace. There was more to Julia than met the eye, and Dean was keen to uncover the depths of her knowledge—not just for the sake of their quest, but perhaps, for the simple pleasure of her company.

As Rob ascended the stairs, Julia began gathering the empty coffee mugs with an efficiency that spoke of routine. She gave Sam and Dean a quick, playful grin. "I'll just drop these off in the kitchen, then we can dive into the research. Hope you're ready for a bit of a deep dive," she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of excitement about the task ahead. She turned on her heel, the cups clinking softly as she vanished down the hall.

Dean watched her go, an appreciative gleam in his eye. Sam, catching this all-too-familiar look, turned his entire body to face his brother, his expression a blend of warning and wisdom.

"Dean, I'm gonna say this once: tread carefully, man," Sam advised, leaning in slightly to emphasize his point.

Dean turned to his brother, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about, Sammy?"

Sam fixed Dean with a knowing look, the kind that only a lifetime of brotherhood could perfect. "Julia. I see that look in your eyes," he cautioned, his voice serious but not unkind.

A roguish smirk danced across Dean's face, his thoughts lingering on the spark he'd felt during their brief interactions. "Can't help it if there's a mutual spark. And come on, Sam—she's smart, she's into Zeppelin, and she's got that whole natural beauty thing going on. It's not just me," Dean defended with a casual shrug, trying to brush off the gravity of Sam's warning with his characteristic nonchalance.

Julia reemerged with a swift grace, pausing at the doorway, her demeanor alight with the thrill of sharing her world. The excitement seemed to emanate from her, an infectious energy that promised revelations and secrets held within her scholarly trove. As Sam and Dean stood, ready to be led into her realm of research, Sam's encouragement was both genuine and anticipatory.

"Rob mentioned you're quite the expert. Can't wait to see the treasures you've been working on," he said, his kind smile acknowledging her expertise.

Julia's response was tinged with humility and appreciation. "That's really nice of you to say," she replied, leading the way up the stairs with a lightness in her step that suggested she was as eager to share as they were to learn.

Reaching the second-floor landing, they were greeted by the impressive sight of a bookshelf that seemed to serve both as a doorway and a guardian of knowledge. Passing through the archway, both Winchesters couldn't help but pause, struck by the beauty of the room that unfolded before them.

They were surrounded by the warmth of aged wood and the silent stories of countless tomes. A built-in window seat nestled against a bay window offered a view of the soft purple wisteria blossoms framing the glass. The room was steeped in the warmth of vintage charm and the whispered stories of countless books. The walls are lined with towering shelves, crafted from dark, polished wood that gleams under the soft golden hue of strategically placed lamps. Each shelf is a testament to a bibliophile's passion, densely packed with books of varying sizes, their spines creating a colourful mosaic that speaks to years of collection and care.

In one corner, a plush armchair sits invitingly, upholstered in a rich, patterned fabric that echoes the bygone era of Victorian elegance. Next to it, a small table holds a crystal decanter of amber liquid and matching glasses, alongside a pile of well-thumbed novels, suggesting a perfect nook for sipping and reading. The heavy curtains pulled back from a large window allow the gentle light to filter in, casting a serene glow over the scene.

Despite the room's orderly foundations, there's a deliberate messiness to it that adds character. Stacks of books and papers teeter precariously on every available surface, including the floor, where a worn Persian rug lays as a testament to the many hours spent lost in literature. The desk is a landscape of creative chaos, with open books, notes scribbled on loose papers, and a vintage typewriter pushed to one side to make room for a modern laptop, showing the blend of old and new.

Unique artifacts are nestled among the books: a vintage globe, a brass telescope, and curious trinkets like skulls and antique scissors, each with its own untold backstory. The space is a sanctuary of knowledge, history, and personal quirks, inviting you to explore its depths, both literary and personal.

As Julia completed a graceful pirouette, her arms outstretched to present the room, her eyes met theirs with a spark of shared understanding. "This is where the magic happens," she declared, her smile as genuine as the passion that clearly fueled her pursuit of knowledge. The invitation was clear, and the Winchesters stepped into her world, ready to be enchanted by the magic of her making.

The effervescent joy Julia exuded was infectious, and Dean found himself basking in a reflected glow of happiness as he watched her navigate the room. He leaned against the doorway, observing her as she gathered an armful of papers and books, her movements a dance of efficiency amid the charming chaos. With a deft hand, she rehomed the collected clutter atop another table already brimming with the weight of research.

"Here," she sang out, her voice carrying the lightness of a melody, as she flitted from one end of the room to the other, her presence transforming the space into something ethereal. She was like a sprite in her own domain, orchestrating the energy of the room with every sweep of her arm.

Sam and Dean approached the cleared chairs with a hint of hesitation, not wanting to disturb the artful disorder of her workspace. They settled into the seats, and Julia paused in her bustling, resting a hand on the back of Dean's chair. For a moment, she stood still, lost in thought, and Dean found himself enveloped in the subtle scent that clung to her—pistachio, perhaps, and something sweetly salted, like caramel. It was warm and inviting, and his heart thrummed a little faster in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Julia's contemplative silence broke, and she turned her gaze to meet Sam's, her expression earnest. "I have a lot of material on the Wendigo—notes, theories, patterns. John had me assist him with something else, too," she confided, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "But before I share anything, you have to promise not to tell my dad. He tends to be... overly protective about certain things."

Her eyes lingered on Sam, seeking an assurance of confidentiality, an unspoken pact between them. Dean felt a tug of curiosity, an eagerness to delve into the knowledge she held, and he nodded in silent agreement, keenly aware of the trust she was placing in their hands.

Sam met Julia's earnest gaze, understanding the gravity of her request. He nodded, a silent promise etched into the gesture. "You have our word, Julia. Whatever you share with us stays between us," Sam assured her, his tone underscored with the seriousness of a sworn oath.

Dean, who had been momentarily caught in the sensory spell of Julia's presence, now anchored himself in the moment, the importance of her trust not lost on him. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with hers, reinforcing the vow. "We've kept secrets bigger than a bunker," he said, a soft, conspiratorial edge to his voice. "Your research is safe with us."

Julia, seemingly satisfied with their assurance, pulled a deep breath before she began, her eyes momentarily flitting to the ceiling as if gathering the threads of her thoughts. "Okay," she started, her voice now a hushed whisper, "John and I were looking into some lore—old, obscure stuff, not just your run-of-the-mill monster tales. It's about something much older, something he was tracking long before the Wendigo."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Julia spoke, the brothers leaning in, captivated by the prelude to secrets yet untold. The promise they had made bound them to this space, to the words that were about to unfold, weaving them into the fabric of Julia's clandestine work.

With the silence of one well-versed in the quietude of libraries, Julia drifted towards the bay window, her figure briefly silhouetted against the gentle light. She took a swift left into a nook, where a ceiling-high cupboard was nestled like a secret chamber within the room. Sam and Dean sat in anticipation, their ears tuned to the soft hum of her tune, punctuated by the rustle of papers as she rummaged within the cupboard's depths.

The cupboard doors clicked shut, and Julia returned to the table, her arms wrapped around a thick brown accordion folder that seemed to challenge her with its heft. With careful steps, she approached, placing the folder on the table before sliding into the last remaining chair—inevitably, the one next to Dean.

As she scooted her chair in, the proximity brought a subtle contact; her knee brushed against Dean's, a fleeting touch that sent a heightened awareness coursing through him. Julia opened the folder with a sense of ceremony, unleashing a cascade of notebooks and papers, each leaf carrying the weight of diligent inquiry.

Sam immediately delved into one of the notebooks, his eyes scanning the bubbly script and the stark sketches that accompanied the text. Dean, however, remained focused on Julia, his curiosity piqued not just by the research but by the researcher herself.

"So, what was it my dad had you digging into?" Dean inquired, his voice low and earnest, inviting confidence.

Julia's gaze lifted to meet his, a current of intensity passing between them. "A demon," she began, her voice barely above a murmur, as if the very word might invoke the creature's attention. Her eyes flicked to Sam's, ensuring she had both brothers' undivided attention, before she continued, "The Yellow-Eyed Demon."

To be continued . . .

Chapter Two

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silent-stories · 2 years

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

Summary: You keep sleeping next to Dean, maybe this will finally lead to something else, one night.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warning: mentions of death and blood, hurt!dean, fluff

Word count: 1203

Author’s Note: Did anyone need a part two? Absolutely not. Did I write it anyway? Yes.

First part here

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After the night Dean came to your room, when he had a nightmare, he had come several more times that you lost count. Not every night, only when he couldn't sleep or just because he wanted to have you close to him.

Sometimes he would put his head on your chest as you run your hands throught his hair and he would fall asleep like that, listening to your heartbeat, other times he would hold you with his arms around you, pushing you close to him.

You never told him that every night you hoped to hear him knock on your door and that every time he didn't you would fall asleep waiting for him.

This time, however, was different. Very different. During a hunt Dean was injured by a werewolf and you found yourself in the back seat of the Impala trying to keep Dean awake while Sam drove as fast as he could to a hospital.

You helped him lie down and he put his head on your lap, you kept stroking his hair and telling him it was going to be okay all the time. When he closed his eyes, tears began to flow from yours, which stopped only when the doctor, about an hour later, told you that Dean would be fine.

When they let you, you entered the white room where Dean was staying.

"Hey." He smiled at you when he saw you.

"I hate you." It was the first thing that came to you to say.

"Thanks, just what I wanted to hear." He replied rolling his eyes.

"You could have died!" You bursted out.

"Who cares." He said, almost to himself.

"I care, Sam cares." You said as your eyes filled with tears again. "Don't try to do that again! Do you know how I felt when you lost consciousness on me in the car? Your hand stopped holding mine and you were losing a lot of blood! I thought you were dying!" You kept saying as a sob left your mouth.

"No, no sweetheart don't cry. I'm sorry, come here." He said softly, opening his arms for you.

You sat on his bed and softly hugged him, careful not to hurt him.

"I don't hate you, Dean. I'm sorry." You whispered after a while, Dean's arms holding you tight to him.

"I know." He said simply, moving a lock of hair that had fallen on your face.

You stayed next to him all night, even though he told you you could go home with Sam. The next morning, when you woke up, you were still in his arms.

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Once, you slept next to Dean when you stopped at a motel where the heat broke down.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on? You're shaking." Dean asked you that night, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sam in the bed next to his.

"I'm cold." You said without turning to him.

For a moment, you didn't get an answer and you thought he probably decided to ignore you, then you heard your bed mattress lower as Dean sneaked into your bed. He wrapped you in his arms and pushed you against his body, you found yourself with your back pressed against his chest. Dean's body always gave off a pleasant warmth, you thought as he tucked the blanket around you.

"Better?" He whispered in your ear. You blamed the cold for the shiver that ran down your back.

"Mh-mh." You muttered nodding.

You heard Dean chuckle before you felt a kiss between your hair.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

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You and Dean slept in the same bed in a motel one more time, after a hunt went south. You had managed to kill the wendigo, but not before a little girl was killed, she bled to death in a pool of her own blood. All the way to the motel Dean hadn't spoken and he hadn't even turned on the radio in the car.

At the motel, you found a room with two beds and when you walked out of the bathroom after taking a quick shower like Dean did earlier, you found him lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. You said nothing and turned off the light, getting into the other bed.

You tried to sleep for a while, but you felt that something was wrong, opening your eyes and turning to the other bed you found Dean in the same position you left him, his open eyes staring at an indefinite point, his hands clenched into fists.

"Dean." You called him.

"I just can't sleep. It's okay." He answered quickly.

"You're not even trying." You said.

"It's my fault that that little girl died, how can I sleep?" He sighed, he really looked exhausted.

"It wasn't your fault, De. You couldn't have known there were two wendigos." You said sitting on your bed.

"If it wasn't my fault then why do I feel so bad?" He whispered.

"Can I come there? Please?" You asked pointing to his bed. He stared at you, some moon rays filtered through the window lighting up his face for a moment, then he just nodded.

Lifting the blanket, you sneaked into Dean's bed, snuggling up next to him. He didn't move.

"Dean, whatever your head is telling you right now, it's not true. It wasn't your fault." You said, your low voice had a slight echo in the room.

When his gaze finally met yours, you smiled.

"Don't make me tickle you." You said.

"And since when you are the one who tickles?" He said as the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Since now." You giggled as your fingers reached his side.

He laughed before he quickly grabbed your hands to make you stop. "Don't even think about it, I'm the one tickling here, not you." He said as his fingers reached your stomach and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, okay enough." You said when you had tears in your eyes. "Dean! Stop it!" You added when he didn't quit.

"See? I'm the one who tickles here. Not you." He said smiling at you, wiping a tear that ran down your face as his hand lingered for a moment on your cheek.

"Thank you for always being there for me." He whispered after a while.

"Well, now you're smiling. Mission accomplished." You said settling next to him again.

"And your "mission" was to make me smile?" He asked you raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't like seeing you down." You said as his arm wrapped around you and brought you as close to him as possible. You rested your head on his chest.

"And you have a contagious laugh, do you know that?" You added.

When he didn't answer, you looked up at him, did you say something wrong?

You didn't have time to meet his gaze that his lips collided with yours. Your mouths kept moving against each other as Dean ran one of his hands through your hair and you brought yours to his face and neck.

"God, it's much better to kiss you when you're awake." He told you when you broke the kiss as your lungs needed air.

"Wait, what?" You asked confused, trying to figure out if it was possible that Dean kissed you when you were asleep and trying not to smile at the idea.

"Oopsie." Dean laughed as his lips met yours again.

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Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows

#dean fic #dean winchester fic #spn fic #supernatural fic #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fluff

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conradfisheristheloml · 1 year

Text

Ethan Landry x Reader

You giggled alongside your friends, Tara, Sam, Mindy and Anika as you made your way to Ethan and Chad’s dorm. You girls were teasing Tara about her and Chad. “Guys! Trust me, there is nothing going on between us.” You all glanced at each other due to the lack of believability behind her words. “Whatever you say,” You said unconvinced. “Y’know, it’s funny that you say that especially with what’s been going on between you and Ethan.” You eyes widened and your cheeks went slightly red. “Those are not even comparable,” you say defensively. “Also, I just ended things with Alex yesterday!” Mindy chimed in, “And does Ethan know?” You looked over at her. “I haven’t told him yet, no.” The rest of the girls share a familiar glance as you approach the boy’s dorm. You were met to Ethan and Chad chilling on the couch waiting for your arrival. You made your way over to the couch next to your best friend. “Hey,” you said as he made room for you. “Hey, how was your day.” You plopped down next to him. “Usual. You?” He looked down as he contemplated something. “Um,” he hesitated, “same here.” You were slightly concerned over his cagey-ness but decided to refrain from pushing. The movie started after that and a silence fell over the rest of the group. You and Ethan’s legs were touching and whatever space between the two of you was soon gone as you settled into his chest. This was anything but unusual for the two of you but you noticed something almost immediately, Ethan’s heart was beating the crazy. You placed your hand on his chest as you sat up kind of concerned. “Hey, is everything okay, E?” His heart fluttered at the nickname. “No, yeah I’m fine.” He lied. He found out that you and your now ex-boyfriend broke up and a part of him has his hopes up that maybe the reason you ended things had something to do with him. He knows it’s selfish but, trust is, he’s been waiting for you to end things with that ass hole for ages and now he finally felt like he had a chance. However, he promised not to get his hopes up. You returned you head the his chest as his strong arm held you close to him. Ethan’s heart was racing as he tired to study your face. You had done this tons of times but, he couldn’t help but wonder if things would be any different now. Ethan was only one awake by the end of the movie. It was about 2AM and he looked down and saw you cuddled up against him. A smile appeared on his face as you looked adorable. He gently picked you up bridal style and carefully carried you into his bedroom. With you still dead asleep, he tucked you into his comfy bed. He glanced down at you and couldn’t help the butterflies that flooded his stomach. You looked beautiful and couldn’t help but brush a soft strand of hair behind your ear. He bent down and laid a gentle kiss on your forehead before beginning to exit his room. “Hey, E?” He quickly averted his attention back to you. “Yeah?” He said. “Could you stay in here with me tonight?” His heart fluttered at those words. “Are you sure?” You nodded. He climbed into his full sized bed and nestled him self next to you. You both turned your bodies so you were facing each other. His eyes gazed over your face studying each one of your features. He couldn’t get over your natural beauty. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.” Your eyes widen slightly as your face gets flushed. You reach out your hand to stroke his soft cheek. You notice the light freckles that coat his cheeks and nose. Your gaze than falls into his head of curls and then finally down to his full lips. You both shift slightly closer to each other, shrinking the gap between each other. The second his eyes fall into your own you close the gap completely by connecting your lips.

#jackchampiononeshot #jack champion x y/n #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry blurb #ethan landry x y/n #scream 6 #scream #ethan landry oneshot #jack champion imagine

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wildmtthyme · 2 months

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Chapter 1: Crush

Warnings: None?

Chapter Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Morgan "Indiana" Turner, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John "Soap" MacTavish, Sam (OC K9)

Story Synopsis: Ghost and Indiana have been best mates for years, partners on and off the field. And she's loved him for just as long. But she's never let on that she's felt anything more than friendly towards him. That all starts to change when Simon starts seeing someone for longer than a single night. Indie decides she's going to try and get over this annoying crush once and for all. Simon realizes that maybe he's been feeling more for his partner than he thought. Maybe a lot more. Partners to lovers with a sprinkling of smut, some fun and humor, a team that won't leave them alone, and a car that seems to weave it all together.

Simon groaned quietly as he cracked an eyelid… way too much to drink last night, not that he’d let on that he had over imbibed. He was sprawled on the couch not in the rec room… not in Price’s office but in the living room of one of their squad mates. It was all Soap’s fault, of course it was. He scrubbed at his face, shifting his balaclava a bit but by no means taking it off. He glanced around the familiar living room, spotting Gaz sacked out in the recliner.

He stretched and forced himself to sit up… he needed—he blinked when he heard a door open upstairs and the telling jingling of dog tags. Not the kind they wore, no… these were attached to a collar. “Oi Sam, no.” He cringed when the shepherd trotted towards him, ears perked and tongue lolled out in obvious greeting, tail waving high. The soft padding of bare feet made his eyes flick up and just like always… he felt himself go still as he watched her walk into the room.

She saw him… glanced over at Gaz and promptly rolled her eyes and yet, deflated somehow. I need to hide the key better. She walked over to the front door and opened it up, a single snap of her fingers and the dog rerouted to head out instead of continuing towards him. He’s taking care of his own mess this time. Simon just watched her as she left the door open and walked into the kitchen, the sound of water filling a kettle signaling the start of another day.

Within an hour- Simon and Gaz both had played deaf and dumb as they sat at the kitchen table, sipping their tea and Simon with his toast and Gaz with his eggs as Soap tried to get one of them, any of them, to go back to the spare bedroom and wake the girl up that he’d brought here last night and get her to leave. No one was biting. Do it yer’self, mate. Gaz said around a mouthful of eggs. Indie, c’mon, please. Simon scoffed at the way Soap crowded Indiana in the kitchen, trying to pout and throw her puppy dog eyes while she sat on her kitchen counter drinking her tea. No fuckin’ way, Soap. You broke into my house last night! Soap did a dramatic fall to his knees, his hands clasped between them. Please, Indiana… you gotta help me! – I ain’t gotta do shit, now make her some tea like a proper gentleman and stop being a fuckin’ slag, Soap. Soap had the decency to look offended and put out at the same time. But he climbed to his feet and did just that.

He made a cup of tea and carried it back to the rear bedroom and half an hour later, a woman looking a little worse for wear bashfully made her exit, tossing them all a little wave. Gonna drive her home! Soap called out over his shoulder as he was walking out the door. Simon and Gaz both immediately tensed but didn’t have time to call foul. I swear, he’s gonna knock one of them up one day. Indiana muttered before she whistled and Simon’s head snapped to her just in time to catch a set of keys out of the air that she’d launched at him. One scratch on my baby, Ghost and I’ll have yer ass. He smirked under his mask but was already climbing to his feet, quickly tucking the keys in his pocket before Gaz had the mind to try and take them from him.

Simon let out a slow breath as he slid behind the wheel of her car… it was a damned dream and Gaz was already pouting. Don’t see why she lets you drive it. The man muttered as he slouched and continued to sulk. Simon had no idea either… but she had let him borrow this car a few times, in situations just like this. He’d never asked. And she’d never really offered. But as he turned the key and the ram air rumbled to life in a satisfying purr that vibrated his bones, he felt a very good shiver race through him.

He dogged Americans plenty but one thing they got right was the muscle car. He carefully backed the Judge out of the garage and down the lane… and took both himself and Gaz back to base. Her car was this beautiful black color that glinted in the morning sun, catching the rays just right. And it had some damned kick that he loved testing on the short drive. It was almost enough to make a man forget about his worries for just a minute.

Morgan cleaned up after the boys when they left, muttering to herself as she did so. She really had to start hiding her spare key better. Then again… it didn’t bother her all that much, not really. They were her team, what could she say other than that. They’d each of them been through thick and thin together. If Soap wanted to catch a few hours of play time with someone, who was she to stand in the way of that? It wasn’t like it kept her up at night.

Besides, she felt worst for Ghost and Gaz in this situation, they were the ones who’d been forced to sleep on her living room furniture and she knew Ghost didn’t fit on that couch all that well. She knew too that if Ghost really wanted to let them into her house, he could. The fucker had a key. She didn’t know if Soap and Gaz knew that, though. Either way, one day Soap was going to meet his match and then he’d know.

He’d know why she didn’t mind all that much when she came downstairs and saw Ghost on her couch. Or why she didn’t mind letting him drive her precious car. Or why he had all these privileges that none of the others had. As it stood, she was fairly certain that no one knew the whys of it and if she had any say at all in the matter, that was how it was going to stay. She showered and dressed for the day, her mind still rolling over the topic.

She’d been head over for Simon since pretty much the first week she’d been assigned to the one-four-one and ever since she’d figured out that he was so off limits, she’d felt every inch the pathetic woman for it. It had nothing to do with rank and everything to do with the fact that… well, she knew where she stood in the grand scheme of things and it wasn’t on a set of spike heels with her tits thrust up in his face (not that she could get her small boobs to thrust up anywhere).

She figured it out the first time they’d come back from a mission together and they all went to the pub. The first time she watched Ghost hit on some woman who was dressed to the nine and was very much not like herself. All curves and long hair and makeup and short skirts and heels and… she sighed as she tugged her helmet on in her garage. She was never that woman. Was never going to be that woman. And most days, she was fine with that.

She was lithe and strong; she could do things those women couldn’t. She could defend those she cared about, take down men twice her size… but it sucked… just a little… when she had to watch the man that she loved consistently leave the pub with those women. She slapped the sides of her helmet sharply, not even feeling it but more of the action itself. “Stop it.” She growled at herself before she threw her leg over her other baby. One kickstart later and the Indian roared to life, the rumble and the vibration doing well at making her mind go blissfully numb as she made her way to base.

#cod writing #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #morgan indiana turner OC #cod OC #pining #tomboy OC

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wisecloudnightmare · 2 years

Text

Tim&Danny Twins au

Just an idea. I can't write a story to save my dog's life. Can someone come to take it out of my hand? (the idea, not my dog, go away)

Kon is heartbroken after Tim has a boyfriend (Bernard). He travels (soul searching and shit) and meets Dani, and like, becomes friends with her. Maybe they tell each other they're clones. Maybe Dani senses something. After months of knowing each other, Dani introduces Kon to team Phantom as her clone friend and Kon gets to meet Phantom who looks just like Tim. But he's dead? Does Tim have a dead twin he doesn't know about? He's not telling Tim though, he's a teenager with feelings and it hurts too much thinking about Tim rn. His gut also tells him he's gonna mysteriously disappear if he babbles.

After many visits to Amity Park, Kon slowly develops feeling for Phantom but not pursuing him because he thinks he'll do Tim and Phantom a disservice, repleacing one with another (not quite true Phantom pulls him in at first bc he looks dead tired like Tim after tearing through four cases in three days (still sharp and competent but needs some rest), but they have their own charms). Danny's still unsure about letting an outsider into Amity Park's and his own business. Team Phantom isn't worried though. They went through Kon's life story after the first time Dani showed up with him. Some (Jazz) thinks Kon's gonna be good for Danny, some (Sam, Tuck) aren't that optimistic but placate with the knowledge that he has weakness and if push comes to shove, they can take him. Despite being the first to acknowledge their friendship, even Dani isn't above overshadowing Kon if he becomes a threat to Danny and Danny's.

They end up setting up a date for Kon and Phantom and with Danny's luck, it becomes their first team-up against a horde of ghosts on another ghost-steroid Jack tries to create to weaken the ghosts but fails. While spliting his focus to keep Kon from being overshadow, Phantom's human identity gets exposed in front of Kon. "Wait. You're alive?" "Eh, yes. But also no." They go on another date after this. With Danny as human and all. I don't know where they go but they really enjoy themselves, being all lovey-dovey (as much as two smartasses with existential crisis can be, that is). Somehow Bernard runs into them (can be literally, can be just seeing from afar). I don't know where to go from here, a timbern drama seems to be a logical leap but I want to add some conspiracy theorist!Bernard to this too. "Conner's tricked by Tim's evil clone from a shadow organization! I have to tell Tim!" (the irony alone...) Or something. IDK.

Eventually the truth comes out that they're twins and the plot proceeds like the usual twins au. I have no brain juice left y'all. The most important thing is the feels between Kon and Danny though. And Kon/Danny and Timbern drama (i.e. Danny feels inadequate, Kon's afraid Danny's gonna think Kon deceives him, Tim with his "I hAve a TwIn alL AloNg? WhY diD I haVe tO be AloNe All my cHilDhOod tHen???" breakdown, and Bernard's "Kon liked Tim? Am I the third party that broke their relationship?")

Batman is not (much of) a paranoid jacka*s here. Or maybe bc he's no screen time lol. Maybe he can shut down GIW for Danny, as a treat.

So, thoughts?

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #connor kent #tim drake #bernard dowd #batman #timber #timbern #tim x bernard

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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I'm thinking ab this nonstop!!

Maybe bucky had a really bad nightmare a while ago, and Steve told you that sometimes after a bad nightmare he had a hard time with physical touch, so you didn't iniciate intimacy for some time, to make it easier for him

But after one of Tony's parties you come back to your apartment and he is anxious and sad, he thinks he doesn't turn you on anymore (crazy!!!) So you explain why you didn't iniciate intimacy and that you've been so wet for him this entire time and insecure turns into feral and he rails tf out of you!!!

Oh I love this so much, yes. Starts off angsty and then all the filthy filthy SMUUTTT and flufff

Bucky is used to nightmares but the one he had most recently was bad. He struggled to pull himself out, all the vivid images seared in his mind even after he woke up. You had heard his muffled cries before but this was different; his pained screams tore through the compound halls.

Steve and Sam had rushed out of their rooms before you could even get to him, breaking into his room to try and calm him; Steve didn’t even want you nearby, insisting it could be dangerous in case Bucky wasn’t in control of himself.

You understood where Steve was coming from but it still broke you. Ever since you started dating months ago, you had always been the one to cradle and hold him after a nightmare, you were Bucky’s safe space. You reluctantly went back to your room while Bucky’s softened whimpers carried down the hall.

****

You made your way down for breakfast, your heart sinking seeing Bucky’s room closed; he didn’t sleep in often but it happened occasionally when he was utterly exhausted. Steve and Sam were already seated by the kitchen island while you went to heat up some water.

“He still sleeping?” Sam asked, smiling softly when you nodded. “Good, he needs his rest, last night was rough”

“Was he okay when you both left last night?” You looked to Steve hopefully while he gave you a sad smile. Bucky had cried for you in his sleep and while Steve wanted to come and get you, he still decided to air on the side of caution, not wanting anything to happen to you in case things went south.

“It was bad but at least he fell asleep after. I know he doesn’t always open up about how he’s doing. He’s always has a hard time with talking and he can’t stand physical touch after a bad nightmare”

Physical touch.

You sighed while making some coffee, physical touch was your favorite thing with Bucky. You loved to be tucked in his arms, touching and holding his hands, playing with his fingers, carding your hands through his hair, nuzzling into his neck. There was something that made you feel so loved and safe whenever you felt his skin on yours.

Then there was that physical touch. His naked body on you, his cock filling you up like no one else could, hands gripping your waist, his balls slapping your ass with each thrust, his lips on your neck, tongue and lips on your soaked cunt, his warm cum spilling all over out of his fat co-

You shook your head, ignoring the way you had riled yourself up; now was not the time. He needed his space and you would give him everything he needed, even if it meant not getting to have your way with your perfect super soldier.

However.

Bucky was utterly perplexed over the growing distance that had started between you both. You didn’t initiate anything. You hardly cuddled with him. No cozy hugs. You didn’t nuzzle your face into his chest like a cat. Spent most of your time locked away in your room. He missed the way you would randomly grab his ass through out the day or whisper salacious things in his ear just for him. He missed the way your naughty hands would slip up his shirt, your devilish smirk exposing what you really wanted.

You didn’t even reciprocate when he initiated because you figured he was forcing himself to do something uncomfortable for your sake, no matter how hard it was.

Things came to a head on the night of Tony’s Party.

Bucky hated it, he wanted to leave so badly. Not because he wasn't enjoying himself. Not because of the loud music or huge rowdy crowd. Not because he was Sam was drunkenly yelling in his ear the entire time.

No.

It was you.

The dress you wore had him in a choke hold, he wanted to fuck you in it the second you stepped out of your room. Before he could tell you how perfect you looked, you had given him a quick peck before making your way down. He couldn't tell what was worse, the thigh high slit, the plunging neckline or the way your legs looked in your heels, it was too much.

Every time he tried to put his hand on your waist or pull you into his lap you found an excuse to slip away to create some space so you weren’t touching him. It was killing you on the inside.

He smelled so good.

He hadn’t bothered shaving, the stubble on his cheeks made him even more attractive.

He was in all black again (on purpose because he knew it was your kryptonite), the little shit knew he looked damn good. You couldn't stand the number of agents that kept trying to flirt with him, you were so focused on not jumping on his bones, you didn’t see his pained expression each time you avoided him.

By the end of the night, Bucky’s heart ached. He had tried to initiated something with you the entire party and you didn’t entertain it once. Normally you were the one happy to drag him away somewhere but you shrank away from his touch each time.

He had even planned in his look, hoping it’d get your attention but it did nothing. Maybe he didn’t turn you on any more. It made him feel worse because a part of him always believed you were it for him. Now, you didn’t even want to sleep with him.

He tried to ignore his anxiety as much as he could while you both made your way up from the party. He was going to kiss you good night after walking you to your room but he couldn't hold it any more. You gasped when he took your hand, tugging you to his room, and sitting with you on the couch.

“Doll...”

“What is it bubba?” You felt a wave of panic looking at Bucky’s anxious face as he nervously fidgeted with his hands, refusing to meet your eyes. He gives you a sad smile, the sweet name you always called him making his heart jump.

“Do you-uh-” He continued to fidget with his hands, not sure if he wanted to have this conversation anymore, he should have just accepted things the way they were. “Are you-are you not attracted to me anymore?”

“What?” You blinked in pure confusion, surely you heard in correctly because there was no way he actually thought that. Bucky was one of the most attractive people you’d ever seen and you felt that way from before you fell in love with him. “Where is this coming from Bucky”

“It’s just you don’t-you don’t touch me, you pull away whenever I’m near you” He shrugged sadly, his shoulders slumped again. “We haven’t done anything in so long, I-I miss feeling you”

"No baby, I-

Bucky shook his head, not wanting to prolong your misery further.

“I understand if you don’t want this anymore doll-

You slapped your hand over Bucky’s mouth, horrified that he felt this way. You shook your head, moving closer to him.

"Baby you don’t understand. I wasn't sure you'd want that right now, it's been awful, I couldn't stand not being able to be close to you and touch you”

Bucky blinked in confusion, while you smiled softly, caressing his cheeks with your thumb.

“I didn’t want to over step bubba, I wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable with anything after you had a nightmare. I wanted to give you some space. I’ve been having to take cold showers with my hand between my legs because I’ve been so desperate for you”

You felt your heart racing, your clit already throbbing, you didn’t realize how touch starved you felt until now, your body screaming for him. Bucky smirked, pulling you into his lap, causing your dress to ride up, brining you to grind right over his aching length. He’d stroked himself more times than he could count, thinking about your soft body and pretty moans, nothing compared to the real thing.

"Tell me more" He groaned, guiding your hips to rock back and forth, your soaked panties dampening his pants.

"I-I've wanted you so badly, craved you Bucky" You moaned in his ear, grinding harder on him, your orgasm already building in your belly.

"More" He lifted you off the couch, throwing you on his bed and stripping his clothes off before ridding you of your dress and panties. He caged you under him, his leaky cock nudging against your clit while you whimpered, bucking your hips up to rub yourself on his pink tip. He groaned, reaching between his legs to rub his cock in circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Missed your cock, wanted it, needed you to fuck me, been so soaked for you" You cried out, panting as kept toying with your clit, his breaths growing heavier, humping and rutting your pussy.

"Fuck y/n, more"

"Wanted to suck you, feel your cum on my tongue, have you choke me with your cock, stuff my pussy, fill me up with your cum” You wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer, you’d waited long enough, you just wanted to feel full of him again and-

"Come here baby, come take daddy’s cock" Bucky snarled, shoving his cock into you without warning, pounding you into the mattress while you cried out pleasure. His thrusts were erratic, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room along with your combined moans and grunts.

“FUCK DADDY YESSS” You threw your head back against his pillows, clawing at his back while he sat back on his heels, tossing your legs on his shoulders. He firmly grabbed your hips, slamming into you, one hand pushing down onto your belly, groaning at the way he could feel his cock bulge against your tummy.

“Feel that baby?” He grabbed your hand, pressing it firmly against your skin, “You feel my cock huh, so fuckin’ deep in you. I missed this baby, missed this pussy So. Fuckin. Bad” He groaned, head thrown back, biting your calves, before gently licking the area.

“Tell me how much you missed my cock you little slut”

“Been-been soaked for you daddy” You whined out, your hands gripping the sheets while his eyes were locked on where you were both connected. He couldn’t look away from how perfectly your pussy opened up for him, your creamy white slick making a mess on his cock. He spit right onto your swollen clit, rubbing his thumb in tight circled making your walls flutter, sucking him in deeper.

“Such a pretty little clit, you’re sensitive huh angel, my dirty little girl. You like when I touch you here?” He smirked watching your eyes roll back, soundless screams leaving your mouth while you pussy started to clench around him. “Are you gonna cum princess? You rubbed yourself thinking about me, should’ve just came to me baby, I would have taken such good care of you. Does my princess cum when daddy touches her clit?”

“OH FUCK BUCKYY” You sobbed out, cumming hard around his cock, while Bucky groaned watching your face contort with pleasure.

“You’re making a mess on me angel, got my dick all creamy baby, fuck, why’d you hold back, you know how badly I wanted to touch you? How fuckin’ sexy you looked tonight-hell-wanted to tear that dress off you in the middle of the party”

Bucky lost himself, admiring your perfect fucked out face, dropping your legs down so he could nip your ear, telling you all the filthy things he had thought of while you kept him touch deprived.

“Wanted to fuckin’ rail you in front of everyone, show them you’re all mine. You know how many people were lookin’ up and down at you baby, and how bad I wanted to shove my cock in you, claim you, show them you’re all mine”

You cried out, knowing the sound proof walls had nothing on how loud you were with the way his hips punctuated in you, taking his sweet time now, making you feel all of him.

“Dadddyyy”

“Oh baby, you have no idea how badly i wanted to hear that” He sucked on your neck, pinning your hands against the mattress, giving you slow agonizing thrusts as he dragged against your gspot. “Sweet heart, I made the biggest messes on myself without you there. Surprised you didn’t hear me moan for you baby, couldn't even hold back, I touched myself everywhere”

“Fuck, tell me where, how, I- please Bucky” Bucky’s balls and thighs were soaked with your arousal, nothing turned on on more than the thought of your super soldier masturbating.

“Every night, on my bed, legs spread, naked doll. Hand stroking my cock so hard wishing it was your pussy. Sometimes I had to roll over and rub myself on the bed, wishing it was you under me” Bucky could feel his cock starting to throb, he had started his orgasm off as long as he could but it was getting harder.

“In the shower, cum all over my chest, fuck I was so horny, it even got my lips. You know what I did baby” He let out a dark chuckle, whispering in your ear. “Licked it up baby, thought about your sweet lips and tasted myself, God I needed you so bad”

He moaned, dropping his body weight on you, thrusting faster chasing his orgasm.

“You make my dick so hard baby, make me so horny, can’t take it” His legs squirmed against the mattress as he railed you, his cock throbbing, precum dribbling from the tip.

“M’gonna cum angel, I can’t hold it, fuck-oh god I need this fucking pussy, m’gonna cum so hard, here it comes baby-FUCK” You wrapped your legs tightly around him while he buried his face into your neck, his body pulled taught feeling pleasure crash over him, his cock throbbing spilling his cum into you.

“I-I’M CUMMING” Bucky nearly roared, “M’cumming so much y/n, shit baby you feel that? It’s so much doll, take my load, daddy has so much cum for his princess”

“Fill me up daddy” You cooed, cupping his face and kissing him while he moaned, humping himself into you with his sensitive cock.

“Gonna fill you up till you’re dripping and leaking for days, god you make my cock feel so good angel”

You both stayed in bed, panting with soft kisses and caresses in between; Bucky was not ready for you to even clean up, he was so touch deprived from the time you avoided him, he kept you wrapped in his arms, his cock still deep inside you.

“Just so you know baby, I always want you to touch me. I love how you feel with me doll, I missed your hugs and cuddles. I wanted to fall asleep with you every night baby” He whispered, his eyes sincere while he stroked your forehead. “Promise me you’ll hold me? I’ll tell you if I’m not comfortable with it angel, I need your touch. You calm me down baby, your hugs and kisses are everything to me”

“Always my baby” You kissed him deeply, cuddling him close to your body, playing with his hair as he started to fall asleep. He smiled against your skin, hitching his leg over you so he could be as close as possible, he never wanted you to let go again.

Tags:

@glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club

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zepskies · 2 years

Text

Patched Up (III)

Pairing: Castiel x Reader Summary: How Castiel thanks you for treating his wounds.

This is part of a 3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Word Count: 780 Warnings: Fluff

Part III: Castiel

It was no small humiliation on his part. An angel, formerly of Heaven, now reduced to cradling the stinging hand of his vessel.

He was piled into the Impala with you, Sam, and Dean, but the moment they returned to the Men of Letters bunker, he tucked his hand to his chest and broke away to the kitchen.

With a mix of concern and suspicion, you watched his trench coat flutter behind him as he moved swiftly out of the common area.

You shared a look with Sam, who shrugged. Unwilling to let go of your concern, you followed Cas into the kitchen and found him standing there, inspecting his right hand. That is, until he sensed you behind him and tucked his hand into his pocket.

It was an awkward move for the angel, who never held his hands in his pockets. You raised a brow at him.

“You okay there?”

“Fine,” he said, in that flat, gravel way of his. “Why do you ask?”

You hummed and went over to him. When you touched his right wrist, he flinched the slightest bit, leaning away from you.

“Will you let me see?” you asked patiently. He looked down at you with his heavy, dark brows crunched over his eyes. But he soon relented, letting you tug his hand out of his pocket. It was red and severely bruised.

If you thought back, that fit from when an enemy angel had tried crushing his head with a pipe, but only managed to catch his hand against the ground instead. You knew why he was upset though. Cut off from Heaven as he was, and now using another angel’s grace as his own, he was maybe at half-strength. Maybe even less.

“Okay. Come ‘ere,” you said, leading him to the sink. You put it on its coldest setting and ran his hand under the water. Cas closed his eyes with a flinch, but eventually he got used to it. You bade him to stay there while you riled through the kitchen for some ice, a plastic bag, and a paper towel.

It was amazing you found anything in this disorganized frat house, but you made your makeshift icepack and took his hand from the water, turning off the sink. You pressed the ice gently on his hand, and your gaze flicked up to the angel’s face, trying to read how much pain he was actually in.

“This isn’t necessary,” he said. You smiled at the slight grumpiness you detected.

Cas held his stoic expression well. You could almost believe he was humoring you here. He had been hurt much worse in the past, both as an angel and as a human, however brief that had been.

But you’d gotten pretty good at reading the subtleties in his body language over the years, and his crunched brows were the biggest tell. He was in pain, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

The ice was probably helping to numb it, but his hand was stiff, his skin red and now ice-cold.

So you raised his hand to your lips and laid a soft kiss to his knuckles. “There. All better.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction as he looked down at you, head tilting in confusion. You pat his arm with a smile and let go of his hand.

“Just keep the ice on for a few minutes at a time. It’ll help with the swelling,” you said.

You walked around him, intending to check and see what Sam and Dean wanted for dinner. But a gentle hand on your wrist stopped you from leaving. You looked back at Castiel questioningly.

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then he crossed the gap between you. His hand moved from your wrist to grasp your fingers around his. You looked up at his handsome, unshaven face with the beginnings of a blush warming your cheeks. His height over you always made you feel small, but also protected with his frame taking up space around you.

“Yes?” you asked, with a somewhat teasing smile. His dark blue eyes locked on yours.

With a subtle smile of his own, he leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you,” he said. You didn’t know if he intended to say it so close to your ear, or with that amount of depth in his voice, but it caused a current of electricity to run deliciously down your spine.

Your smile for him turned a bit more playful, and you leaned up and cupped the back of his neck with your free hand.

“I think you missed,” you said, and brought his lips to yours instead.

Check out Part 1: Dean, or Part 2: Sam!

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x female reader #castiel/you #castiel/reader #spn #spn fanfic #spn fics #spn fanfics #supernatural #castiel #zepkies #zepskies writes #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fics #romance #reader insert

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tanglepelt · 1 year

Text

The fall

a03

Danny takes on Pariah, gets reveled and his parents reactions. This is a continuation of day 3. here. Pretty sure it makes sense without that part tho.

Danny was going to get everyone out.

Amity would no longer stay in the realm; no longer would Pariah keep them trapped. Pariah's hunt was fruitless regardless, Danny held the ring now.

With his whole new power set, ice, and snow, ones he didn’t quite know how to use he’d just have to make it work. Going through the crater left behind from Amity's displacement he gathered what he needed. The weapons were stashed in the remnants of Sams's basement and the school boiler room. The anti-ecto weapons taken from his parents the trio had hidden away. If they worked on the king Danny would have a key advantage. Then the most important item that had been confiscated was the watch. The one ready to send him back to the realm. Back into the dome where his friends and family were trapped. Even back to go help the fruit loop.

He just had to shoot himself with it. It was a one-way trip.

There would be no turning back.

This was for his friends and family.

He wasn’t backing down from Pariah. No matter the cost.

A bag full of weapons on his back, the watch set to shoot he was ready.

Danny had never been so ready to see the green sky of the zone. To be standing back in amity. Even if it was just the deserted streets. No humans in sight. The dome once surrounding the town completely missing. Everything was too silent, empty.

The troops, pariah’s skeleton had to be attacking elsewhere. Nothing they sought was here in town.

He needed to get to FentonWorks. See if they were there. His parents had a secondary ghost shield, they had been working on an ecto-skeleton suit. Maybe there had been some success. Even with everything they had to face, the skeletons, pariah the fright knight there was hope. Danny knows that the ring of rage and crown of fire only boost the wearer when both are held by one. One without the other is just for cosmetics.

Or in Danny’s case as a callout.

A way to make sure the focus would be on him and not the humans of amity parks. They couldn’t take hits like he could, all too squishy and breakable.

The closer he got to FentonWorks the higher the concentration of ectoplasm was. Despite being in the realm it was more intense. Fitting when he saw the scene. Valerie manning the ecto skeleton, losing badly. The ghost shield surrounding his home cracking and breaking with each new hit. The skeltons were directly attacking the shield. In search of the ring, they do not possess.

This wouldn’t do.

Flying as fast as he could he slammed into Valerie, Knocking back into the ghost shield. The skeleton must of been on its last life, it broke when she hit the ground. That drew the skeleton's attention. There was still one more thing he needed to do.

With a salute to the skeletons, he went human. Plopping down into the ghost shield. The attacks on the shield increasing. Harder they hit. He would be out shortly to deal with them. Danny just needed some assurance the building won't go unguarded.

Valerie was already out of the suit. Anger and confusion are evident on her face. “Your phantom? You"

As the blast got louder and larger, he just tossed the bag at her. She caught it only to be knocked down. That ecto skeleton must have really taken it out of her. Already Sam and Tucker were rushing out with shouts of his name. There wasn’t enough time. In his haste, he left with a last message,

“I have the ring, watch the house. The shields won’t hold much longer. The bag has the weapons I deemed too dangerous for my parents to keep. Protect the people. I'll deal with the rest.”

Walking out of the dome a single weapon tucked away behind his back and a ring on his finger. Danny held up his hand transforming, calling out pariah. The king truly was done for. So caught up in his rage to retrieve the ring. Charging at Danny with no hesitance. Looked like he was just going for physical contact.

This king had been sealed up for centuries, likely never even seeing a laser gun. All the better for Danny. Thankfully his aim wasn’t like his dad's. His gun hit Pariah straight on, sending him straight to the ground. No more powers for him. Just his physical abilities.

Pariah still put up a fight. Hit after hit never backing down. He was a beast without the powers. Danny couldn’t win like this. He needed the crown.

Suppose he had the crown Pariah wouldn’t stand a chance. It was just the two after the other item. Danny aiming for the head Pariah gunning for the ring. Danny had little to no control over his ice, rather than freeze any part of Pariah things were just colder.

Every now and then he managed to get an icicle to hit Pariah in the face. The dud just wouldn't cool down and give up.

Danny was being forced closer to the dome. The one about to shatter. Valerie, Tucker, and Sam all shoot from behind the shield. Yelling amongst each other about something he couldn’t hear. This had to be his final push, they couldn’t reach the barrier. The shield would fall if they did.

Someone yelling was getting closer. The screaming getting louder.

“DUCK” was that his mom?

A green blast went past him hitting Pariah.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY SON”

Yea, that was his mom. That was his mom. She knew? Did Valerie rat him out?

“AIM FOR THE CROWN” Sure enough she did. Knocking it straight off his head.

As he grabbed the crown eyeball ghosts began to appear, a sarcophagus with them. A new ghost ordering someone to shove him into it. Then close the lid sealing Pariah in. Leading to him once more being locked away in his slumber.

That led to his current situation. Town rightfully back in Illinois, having a heart-to-heart with his family. It wasn’t Valeria that ratted him out but Sam and Tucker. Apparently, Valerie had knocked out all the adults to steal the ecto-skeleton, so she had been avoiding them since. Likely trying to avoid a lecture.

When they came too, and they were still in the ghost zone his mom and dad panicked. Both Vlad and Danny were missing, and the suit was gone. They didn’t know what happened. His friends had no real choice, if they had gone looking for him the shield would have fallen too fast.

That didn’t stop his mom from coming to his aid when he was in sight.

His being Phantom didn’t bother them. The two were more upset he didn’t trust them with the information to being with.

Things had never looked better for him. Well until the next day when Valerie punched him for keeping that a secret from her. She demanded he put his mutt into obedience classes.

#Danny Phantom #dannymay2023 #day30 #post reveal #good parents jack and maddie #i cant write fight scen #i dont know why i tried

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