#Sam’s been pretending to be someone he’s not for half his life but the second he sees the Real dean again it all falls away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milkteahood · 1 month

Text

texas heat

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: basically a smut with a plot

Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?

You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.

***

“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.

“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.

“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.

At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.

You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.

“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”

“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.

“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”

A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.

Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

***

Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.

Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.

***

“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.

“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.

“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.

“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”

Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”

The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.

***

The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.

“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.

***

“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.

As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.

“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.

“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.

“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.

And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.

***

The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.

You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.

What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.

Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.

You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?

Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.

In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.

“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.

“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.

You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.

This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.

You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.

“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.

Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.

“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.

“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.

Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.

You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.

Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.

“Tommy?”

He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“I really like you, Thomas”

His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.

He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.

After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.

“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”

He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.

“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.

He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.

“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.

Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.

Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.

“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.

He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.

You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.

As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.

Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.

His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.

“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.

Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.

You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.

He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x reader smut #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt image #thomas hewitt x you #slasher x y/n #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher x you #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #thomas hewitt fanfic

765 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 7 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Two

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: cuss words and recreational cliff diving

Notes: The moment you’ve been waiting for! Just don’t kill me pls🫣 sorry this one is short, but the next chapter is twice as long so buckle up lol

Word Count: 1290

Series Masterlist

Reader

Quil has been… tricky since I found out about the wolves. Now I know why his best friends have ditched him and I can’t even tell him.

How would I even phrase it?

Hey man, so you know how your best buds kinda cut all their hair off, got insanely ripped, tattooed these tribal pieces on their arms, and seclude themselves? Well, they’re actually these supernatural protectors of the reservation and turn into huge fucking wolves.

Yeah that’d go over real well. Not to mention said wolves would rip me a fucking new one. I mean, they protect humans, but is the line drawn at exposure? Would they even vote or would Sam just slam his own gavel? Make a spectacle in front of the tribe? What would they even tell my mom?

I can’t help the direction of my thoughts, desperation for my friend - to cure the source of his pain, gnaws at me from the inside.

So I unintentionally start hanging out with him less. Not completely - no, my heart would never allow it, but less. Less means I can stop pretending so much - I lie to my mom and I live with her. I lie to Bella because two friends falling apart in the same way helps no one. I lie to Quil so the wolves can continue to exist without a spotlight. I lie to Embry and say I’m fine so he can have someone to not be fine with. More often than not it feels like the smile on my face and the words in my mouth are just lies, lies, lies.

So I have to do less. Because less is how I stay afloat.

Less is what I wish I’d feel.

•March 16th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

“Are you sure about this?” The roaring of the water below almost drowns me out, but Bella’s shoulder is brushing mine and I can tell she heard my question in the way her own shoulders sink as we stare down at the turning water.

“Look, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to-”

“Oh I’m going to, just thought I’d offer an out.” I’m not even looking at her and I can feel the tension leak away from her.

“You’ve always been down for some crazy stuff.” She tells me, stepping away to shed her backpack, bracelets, shoes and anything else she doesn’t want to get wet.

“Believe me, I fucking know.” I whisper to myself.

Are we really about to jump from a cliff just to feel something?

I’ll do anything to feel something besides this gaping hole in my chest and apparently that starts with cliff jumping.

I turn to check on her and catch her mumbling something under her breath before she steps off and disappears from view.

I copy her actions and shed myself of my extra clothing items until I’m in just my jeans and t-shirt. A thundering rumble from deep in the trees pulls my attention for half a second from the dark water below as I wait for Bella’s head to surface. A storm, maybe? Has to be-but the snapping of twigs, that’s something inside the forest.

The wolves? We picked a day they were occupied, they’ve been chasing Victoria ever since Laraunt showed up and Bella explained to Jacob what they were after - us. And Charlie, along with some trigger-happy townspeople, have been hunting the wolves.

Which leaves us free to do things like this, stupid shit without the overbearing men in our lives watching our every move.

I take a step forward into nothing before whatever that is makes an appearance and stops us.

Time might as well be standing still.

I mean, I feel the rumple of my shirt across my stomach as I fall, but the way my heart is in my throat and my lungs squeeze-

Ice. The water is pure ice.

I’m stunned at the brutality of the water, not only in temperature, but also in the way it ebbs and rolls. I’m not entirely sure which way is up, but I catch a glimpse of a jean-clad leg drifting away into the darkness - Bella! I’m too slow, the water is zapping my warmth and my strength with it.

Lungs screaming at me to give up, a tan blur of muscles dives right past me at an incredible pace. A few seconds later, another tan and muscled arm wraps around my torso and our rapid ascent to the surface begins.

My last thought - the last image in my brain before darkness drowns me out is Bella, dragged completely limp by Jacob.

• March 16th, 2005 • Ithaca, New York •

Jasper

A choking gasp so loud it startles everyone lounging in the house-horror, disbelief, terror courses through my sister in the fraction of a second.

The next fraction I’m at her side.

“Alice-Alice!” I grip the tops of her arms as I stare into her eyes, begging her to answer me immediately, “What is it?”

Her eyes are flicking around, far away from here and searching-panic begins overtaking her and I can do nothing to stop its rampant escalation. My power retaliates, I try to grasp her slippery hysteria but it’s like smoke - filling the room rapidly, choking me, but I’m unable to grasp it-to tame it. There’s only three people not in this room that would elicit such reaction and one is immortal-

“Bella and-” but she cuts herself off before she could finish as she meets my eyes.

“Bella. And. What. Alice?” My tone is deadly and the words are clipped - I already know the answer, but it can’t be.

Instead of answering me, she spins from my grip.

“Carlisle! I need keys!” I follow her as she grabs everything she needs for a day trip, apparently.

“Alice answer me, what’s going on?” I’m desperate at this point for any information.

“I’m driving to Forks.” Her words are stern, mind set. “I have to check on them, I can’t see-”

“You can’t see them?”

“They jumped off a fucking cliff and I can’t see them!” Her breath is tearing in and out as she spins to look at me, panic and inadequacy pinging off of her.

They… jumped off a cliff?

For the first time in a very long time, I can’t breathe.

“My-my girl j-jumped?” The small voice passing through my lips doesn’t sound like me.

“I need to check on them-”

“I’m coming.” The heart in my chest has long since ceased to work, but now it feels as though it’s turning rotten and black.

“If you can’t handle it-” She starts, but I stop her again.

“If she’s gone, nothing matters anymore.”

• March 16th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

I rinsed off in the shower after Embry dropped me off, not much energy left to fully shower. Thank whatever other-worldly force looking out for me that he didn’t take me to the hospital so my mom could get involved. The woman would hover no doubt non-stop and then proceed to give me the lecture of the century, something I don’t have the capacity for at the moment.

Plopping down onto the sofa, I settle back into the soft cushions, my body absolutely tired.

Hurried knocking on the front door not-so-softly wakes me up, I must’ve drifted off after laying down.

“Embry, I’m fine - you didn’t need to check on me-”

But as the door swings open it isn’t Embry.

Panting like he had just run a marathon, hair slightly wet and eyes wide with panic, stood someone I thought I’d never see again.

Someone I thought had to be a figment of my imagination.

Jasper?

Teaser

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #twilight #female reader insert

302 notes · View notes

laughingesper · 3 months

Text

DP X DC Prompt

In the aftermath of Gotham War, Jason Todd is just... done with everything. He's tired of trying to change himself to meet the expectations of a man who won't even try to meet him half way. How the rest of the Batfamily, while not as bad, usually take Bruce's lead in regards to interacting with him. Even in his altered state, he manages to make his way to Amity Park (pretend this is a universe where the Justice League are mostly ignorant of the shit that goes on there).

Coincidentally, Desiree is out and about at the same time he arrives. He's terrified and pissed at the same time. He can't even be depressed in peace without being dragged into some kind of BS! So in the midst of his mental breakdown, he wishes for a better life where he'd never met Bruce Wayne, not that he's actually expecting anyone to be listening or do anything about it. An Amity Park native would know better.

Desiree: "As you have wished it, so it shall be!"

Jason: "Wait what?"

And because Jason isn't wearing Fenton anti-ghost tech when his wish is granted like Sam was, he doesn't remember making a wish in the first place. As far as he knows this is how it's always been. A world where Jason Todd is living a normal, peaceful, happy life. However, Desiree isn't capable of making grand sweeping changes to reality like this without a few hiccups (yet). Her power grows in proportion to how many wishes she's granted and lessens whenever she's not granting any. She actually got it 99% right, but there is still some physical evidence that things weren't always the way they currently are, like in the actual episode. No one remembers the truth except her, but certain smart people are able to notice the inconsistencies.

Such as Danny and friends, who can tell that a wish was granted but not who made it and what for. Usually it's way more obvious.

Meanwhile in Gotham City, how do things change without Jason Todd? Did someone else become the second Robin? If so, who is it and how did they differ from Jason? It's meant to be a sort of examination of how the Batfamily and DC themselves treat Jason as a character. How would someone else deal with that? Would they rise above it all in a way Jason never could or become a full on supervillain? Ideally, like in the episode itself, Jason would eventually remember the way things are supposed to be and wish things back to normal, but would he even want to do that?

This idea was inspired by this one panel from White Knight, and it just made me think 'well Comics Jason has even more of a reason to wish he never met Bruce lol'.

#dc x dp #jason todd #batman #danny phantom #dc comics #dpxdc #batfamily #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt

92 notes · View notes

margarethx · 2 months

Text

I was genuinely surprised with the responses I've got on the first part of [THIS story]. It was such a random burst of motivation to write that I didn't even think it through and just posted whatever came out of my head. But I'm very glad that you liked it, since it's the first story I've showed to other people in like 4 years.

The working title will be "Assassinate them with Kindness", and I'll use that as a tag for later parts when I add them. It's also [available on Ao3] if you'd prefer to read it over there.

Enjoy <3

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

The weird man does not go to Sam's group on Monday.

Which is not as big of a relief as Sam thought it would be.

Because if the man is not here... where is he? And why did he even ask if he could join the group? Was he just taunting Sam? Teasing him with the knowledge or Sam's schedule and whereabouts, but not revealing how and for what purpose did he get that information?

Sam briefly glances at his wrist, covered neatly by a long-sleeved shirt and a warm blazer. The day is way too hot for this type of clothing, but he refused to look at the bruises on his skin for more than two seconds after noticing them for the first time. He still feels the pain, but it's easier to make it fade into the background, if he pretends it isn't there at all.

In spite of his nervousness and constant worry, Sam leads his group like a true professional. Calm, collected, funny when needed. A shining example of an ex-soldier who has left most of their PTSD far behind by working hard to healthily rejoin society. Definitely not a person, who started carrying a gun in public again after singular weird encounter, and who constantly has to fight with himself to not look over his shoulder and check if there isn't anyone watching him from the shadowed backroom.

But the man was not there. The meeting went well. And all the people leaving the room with their polite "good bye's" and casual "see ya!'s" have no idea about the turmoil in his head.

"See you Thursday," Sam smiles pleasantly and grabs Tyler's hand with both palms, shaking it lightly, as a young vet stops by. "It's nice to see you again. It's been a while," he adds, hoping that his eyes convey genuine warmth.

Tyler is young - too young to deal with this sort of trauma. A typical example of a teenager pulled into a military machine by life circumstances, not because of any principled believes. He went to have a better chance at higher education afterwards. And he lost half of his right leg for it.

He is secretly Sam's favourite in the group, with his sense of humour and positive attitude. Though Sam is sure there is a lot of fears and sadness hidden behind all the jokes, because he acted the exact same way when he first sought out help after coming home. It was easy to see the reflection of younger Sam in Tyler's behaviour.

And it was also great to have someone in the group who could keep everyone's mood relatively light when topics were getting heavy, without making others feel as if their confessions were not treated seriously. It was, of course, Sam's job to control the atmosphere as best as he could , but on days like this - when he himself didn't feel stellar - it was a relief to not shoulder all the emotional weight of the meeting on his own.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wilson?" Tyler asks, also shaking Sam's hands a little.

"It's Sam, we've talked about this," Sam smiles, deflecting by playing their classic game of arguing over formality levels of their relation. It's a bit worrying. To know that he can put on a mask and his vets might notice his distress anyway. But no one else said anything, so maybe he fooled the rest of them successfully?

"Apologies. Is everything alright, Mr. Sam Wilson?"

Tyler sends him a bright grin and Sam sighs. He doesn't have much energy left to argue or pretend. He did not sleep very well last week, to put it lightly.

"I'm alright," he finally replies without much conviction. "It's personal stuff, you don't need to worry about this. It should be resolved by the next meeting," he adds, hoping that this little lie will make his situation look like a solvable problem with the end in sight. Maybe if he believes in it hard enough it would even come true?

For now, it seems that Tyler buys the explanation and drops the topic. As they exchange goodbyes, he still glances at Sam with a slight frown, but he doesn't push. It'd be unusual if he did. As much as Sam loves working with these people and helping them, they're not that close. His vets don't get involved in his personal life.

...They don't know where he lives, for example...

Sam shakes his head to stop himself from thinking and gathers the papers on his desk with a bit more energy than the task requires. He needs to get out of here. The conference room he uses is relatively big, but the walls seem to get closer and closer, the ceiling pressing down on him.

He exits the building, taking long steps, and avoiding everyone's eyes. Fortunately, most people he passes don't know him, so he's not stopped for any conversations about his last weekend and all the fun his co-workers had while he sat on his guestroom floor surrounded by unhealthy snacks, and wondering if it's reasonable to invest his meager savings in an upgraded security system.

It's embarrassing, when he thinks back to those three days. It shouldn't be that big of a deal.

But something about that man... About his eyes. About the bruises he left.

Sam really tried to not look at them too closely to avoid spiraling again, but he's pretty sure his skin almost broke in some places, as if pinched too hard. The only reason he didn't notice it right away was probably the sheer rush of adrenaline that flooded him in that moment and dulled the pain.

Once he's outside, Sam leans on a nearby wall, out of everyone's sight, unsure of what to do next. Even though he spent the last weekend hidden in his home, the place did not feel safe. All he could focus on were unusual noises or the headlights of random cars passing by, casting uneven shadows on his walls. At some point he was sure one specific shadow looked like a person, but when he carefully peered outside, his garden was empty, with the exception of a small bat the flew in circles under the nearest lamppost, catching moths in peace.

Normally, he'd stay, watching the little guy and reminiscing about the time he too could fly at such speed, but it didn't feel safe, so he moved as far away from the window as possible.

All Sam wants right now is to get back to his bed and hide under the covers, go to sleep, and wake up to realize that the whole thing was just a dream.

His bag slips from his shoulder when he slumps against the wall and the strap catches on his wrist. He hisses in pain, reminded once more - as if he forgot, somehow - that his paranoia is actually justified and that his home is not some safe haven he'd like it to be. Because someone strong enough to nearly break his bones with a strong grip knows where he lives and could come back at any second.

If the guy was a real vet, why didn't he come to the meeting?

And again... if he's not here... Where is he?!

Sam readjusts his bag and straightens up. He cannot come home right now, but he needs to sleep somewhere. He could ask one of his new friends to take their couch for the night... but it's not Delacroix and his friendships here are not on the "sleepover" level yet. And if the man decides to look for him, Sam would drag the danger to someone else's home.

He's not that selfish.

Maybe he could find someone on a dating app and stay the night?

He shudders at the idea. It reeks of desperation even to his clouded brain. He would not do that to some random innocent person. And he would not do that to himself. He has enough dignity left.

The mere fact that he came up with a solution like that sobers him up a little bit. It sounds almost ridiculous and he's sure he would laugh about it one day... if he lives long enough to tell the story about his lowest point post-Afganistan.

What he needs to do is to go to a public space. A place with cameras, a nice crowd with enough eyes, to catch if something's wrong - but not crowded enough that a person would fade into the sea of faces and moving bodies.

With that in mind, Sam takes another deep breath to calm himself and marches towards the nearest bar he knows. The place is probably half-empty at this hour, but an evening wave of patrons should start trickling in pretty soon.

The inside of the establishment is a bit too dark for Sam's liking, but as he sits at the bar he feels some of the tension leave his body at last. Behind the bartender there is a freshly cleaned mirror, showing most of the tables, so Sam can keep an eye on the room while eating.

He's not in the mood for drinking - mostly to stay vigilant, not because he couldn't use a nice glass of whiskey right now - but the place offers some typical fast food options, so he picks them from the menu instead. He'll have to really push himself during the next training session to pay for the sugar and fat intake of the last four days, but he feels like he's earned the right to be indulgent for at least a while.

As he eats, Sam observes other patrons suspiciously, looking over his shoulder from time to time. At some point he's sure he feels someone's eyes on his back, but no one new entered the building in the last twenty minutes and the people on nearby tables seem preoccupied with their own thoughts and conversations, so he's sure it's just the paranoia.

It's starting to get dark outside and the bar fills with shadows before someone turns on a few extra laps. There are more people sitting around Sam now, some staring in silence into their drinks, others talking casually, or flirting with the bartender, as per usual.

The guy behind the bar seems cute. Probably a bit younger than Sam's typical partner, but still in his bracket. He accepts the compliments with a calm smile not cutting them off right away, but not doing much to encourage the attention. Sam gets a little lost for a second, observing the man's hands as he prepares the drinks, almost hypnotized by the movents.

Suddenly, one of the patrons - one that's been sitting by the bar before Sam even came in - drops her wallet in a clumsy attempt to pay the bill. She smiles awkwardly at the bartender, who simply grabs the wallet for her from the floor, clearly used to similar shenanigans.

As the guy leans forward, a curtain of thin braids covers his face for a brief second and he glances somewhere in Sam's general direction from between them before standing up.

Sam freezes.

The man looks basically nothing alike the guy who stood at his doorstep last week, but something about that look causes the memories to flood Sam once again. He feels dizzy and the comfortable atmosphere of the bar becomes overwhelming and stuffy in a blink of an eye.

He nearly jumps out of his chair and makes a beeline to the bathroom. He's not sure why. He just needs to... Wash his face maybe. Look into the mirror and have a stern talk with his brain. Something. Anything! To finally calm down.

As he walks towards the bathrooms, he notices some man sitting in a booth he previously didn't see. He's dressed pretty formally, phone in hands, and an annoyed grimace on his face. He looks more like a person currently working than someone who just went for drinks to wind down after work.

His eyes meet Sam's which sends a cold shiver down his spine. For whatever reason, this man - looking like a banker or low-lever politician, which is a common sight in DC - scares Sam just as much as the creepy stranger haunting his thoughts.

He breaks the eye contact and darts towards the bathrooms even faster, nearly colliding with someone who exits the door.

There are three other people in the bathroom, two of which wash their hands and fix their hair in front of the mirror. Neither of them look particularly suspicious, but Sam keeps an eye on them anyway, walking towards the stalls and locking himself in one of them.

He sits there for less then two second before he realizes that he's made himself more vulnerable by isolating himself from the crowd, but he's really not sure what to do next. The brief moment of fear after seeing the bartender with hair hanging over his face seems silly in retrospect. He could've just ignored the panic, push the discomfort down, and go back to the main room. But the man in suit sitting in a secluded booth?

That was actually worrying. Because he didn't just look generally annoyed or angry. He seemed to be specifically mad at Sam. Which would be concerning with any other influential White guy, but in this particular instance Sam feels like there's more to it.

He hears another person enter the bathroom, interrupting his thoughts. Two of the people washing their hands leave. Someone else comes in. Sam keeps track of everyone inside and at some point he's pretty sure he's the only person still sitting here, so he quietly exits the stall.

Just as he expected, the bathroom is empty. It's a bit weird, all things considered. It's a Monday afternoon, sure, but this place is not alive just on the weekends and in the night, when students party. There should be a constant rotation of people going in and out at any point.

But the room is silent as Sam stands there, wondering what to do next.

He's pretty sure he hears some water running on the other side of the wall and muffled laughs, seemingly coming from a group of women washing their hands and talking in an adjacent room.

Sam's familiar with all the overdone jokes about girls visiting the bathroom way more often than guys or about them going there in hordes. And, stereotypical or not, there is some truth to those... but Sam's pretty sure it should not be this disproportional.

The man's bathroom has been empty for over five minutes. Which is way too long, considering the size of the crowd.

A motion activated light loudly going off in one of the stalls makes it even more clear that Sam's suspiciously alone in here.

He washes his hands just to do something when, finally, the door to the main part of the bar opens. A wave of sound - clinking glasses, loud conversations, a ringtone - fill the empty space until the door closes again, cutting the noise off.

Sam exhales with relief and moves to dry his hands.

Then he notices him.

The man from his porch, now standing behind him, staring straight at Sam in the mirror.

He looks even bigger now, taller, and more broad at the shoulders, his hair still covering the face like a greasy veil. His eyes pin Sam in place like a wild animal who's fight or flight instincts fired so many contradicting impulses in its brain that it ended up just freezing.

In any other situation Sam would feel vindicated. He was right! He was not safe, he was observed, and someone is going after him - for whatever reason.

He can take that useless sense of satisfaction and bring it straight to his grave.

The man doesn't move. He just looks at Sam or through him, maybe. As if he's mentally not here. Maybe his soul has also left his body, like Sam assumes his own did right now?

It's just like that day at his home. Awkward, tense silence and creepy staring. Sam feels the hairs on his arm stand up like a coordinated unit. His heart beats so fast and loud that it must echo on the bathroom's walls. If Sam's ears were not filled with ringing, he'd probably be more sure about that.

The man blinks, just once.

And something in Sam just... breaks.

When he'll think about it later he'll have no idea why he did it. But he simply turns off the water and turns towards the guy in one smooth motion.

"Oh, I know you" he says, tone casual.

The man frowns this time, still looking directly at Sam. One of his hands is hidden inside or his unzipped jacket and it twitches a little. Whatever he's holding there probably isn't a bouquet or a dove, he'll produce out of nowhere and present to Sam like a magician.

"Fancy meeting you here," he adds, like it's a normal conversation. Like they're friends from work or as if the man was his favourite cashier at a local store. "In the bar, I mean. Not in the bathroom," he jokes.

The man's face does a weird thing. It's difficult to tell what kind of emotion he wanted to convey, but he seems confused. Does he even recognize Sam? Maybe he's really not as mentally present this time?

The water drips from Sam's hands to the tiled floor - tiny rivulets running down his fingers. It's quiet again, just as before, until one of the other motion activated lights goes off in the stalls. Then the next one right after it. Click. Click.

The guy flinches twice, his hand moving under the jacket's lapels.

"Can I help you with something?" Sam asks finally. At this point it feels like his mouth is operating on its own, entirely independent on his brain. He's also there, but not really.

Maybe he's already died and hasn't realized?

"You didn't go to my meeting today." Why does he keep talking?! "Do you plan to join this Thursday?"

By some miracle, this question seems to work. The guy's eyes dart around nervously and he shivers as the last of the lights in the stalls section goes off. The room is dimly lit by now only by the small lights over the sinks. And Sam cannot ignore that they're still, somehow, alone in here.

"I'm sorry I didn't come today," the man says and he sounds sincere, though monotone. "There were too many people in there."

"Well, it's a group meeting," Sam smiles. "The people are kind of a given."

He feels like he's body is operating on a pure survival mode. It reminds him of his time in the military, in a way; of the time, where he had to put one hundred percent of his focus on staying alive and keeping other's from dying, too, but couldn't actually think about it. Because there were bullets flying by, and his hands were sticky with someone's blood, and there was a wound to stitch, and a person screaming. If he registered all of that in full, he'd just collapse on the ground, overwhelmed and paralyzed by fear. So it was easier to just switch his brain off and let the instincts and years of training take the wheel.

"If you're worried about confessing in front of others, it's okay." He keeps talking and the man's stare becomes even more intense. His eyes seem very blue, even in the poor lighting, which Sam didn't truly notice before. They look cold, but not because of the colour. More like there's not enough life in them. "There's no pressure to tell your story right away. Some people in my group love talking. Other's just sit and listen. If no one's up to talk, I take over and give a little speech," Sam grins.

And he somehow knows that if he looked into the mirror to his left, his smile would look genuine.

"I don't like talking," the man says eventually.

"I figured," is Sam's reply. "Like I said, I won't push you to say shit."

It's probably not the most professional way of phrasing it, but he's not at work and, frankly, he's about to be murdered, so it's not like they'll reprimand him for inappropriate language.

"Also," he continues, "I can give you a number to one of my colleagues who does one on one therapy sessions. That way you could..."

"No."

"...avoid groups," he finishes awkwardly. " Fair enough."

"Do you do it? The therapy? One on one, no people?"

Sam doesn't. And he'd probably lie about it, even if he did.

"Not these days. I already have a ton of work with groups. If you want to see me, specifically, you know where to find me."

Clearly.

"I do," the man confirms like it's not the creepiest thing Sam's heard in his entire life.

"Well, I have to go now," Sam tries, hoping that if he sneaks out of the bathroom fast enough this whole nightmare will finally end. If the guy's here to kill him, he's doing a pretty bad job right now, so maybe Sam could just... walk away from the situation. Surely, he won't get stabbed in the back in the middle of a bar? Right?

The guy's face contorts in a painful way and he finally removes his hand from under the jacket. Sam tenses, but the gloved palm is empty. At the same time, the guy sways a little on his feet and grabs the wet counter with both hands.

Before Sam has time to process what's happening, he's already next to the guy, holding his elbow carefully and looking straight into his eyes. The pupils are dilated and then suddenly small like a poppy seed, changing in a matter of milliseconds. Sam's never seen anything like it.

"Are you alright?" he asks unnecessarily, trying to keep the man from falling face-first into the sink.

They look at each other and the man seems panicked, more than anything. The unwashed strands of brown hair hang over his eyes, but this time Sam's too worried about him to let himself spiral again at the now familiar sight.

The counter makes a strained noise and a small crack appears on the surface. Sam imagines his own bones turning into dust under such grip and his wrist pulses with pain he felt in the background for the last few days.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, sounding more urgent this time. He doesn't even care at this point if the man's here to kill him. Sam's a paramedic first, and if someone's fighting for their life nearby, he'll always drop everything to make things better. Even if his body might end up in trashcan behind the bar for the effort.

The man blinks, licks his lips, and takes a ragged breath. There's a weird grey cast to his face now and he didn't even look that healthy to begin with.

"I have to go," he whispers finally and stands up. His forehead shines with sweat and his pupils are wide again. "Thank you," he adds quieter and walks away unnaturally fast.

He's there. And then he's not. The door closes so quietly behind him, that Sam doesn't even register the sound.

Sam sits down, not caring about the wet and disgusting floor and stares at the opposite wall in silence. In the women's bathroom someone laughs out loud and a sharp sound of the shattering glass reaches him from the bar.

It almost feels like he's lost his hearing for a while and it suddenly returns to him. As if he's been under water and came break to the surface once more.

He also tastes blood on his tongue and realizes he must have bitten it at some point without realizing. The unpleasant sting of a cut is what finally helps him to come back to himself. He cannot stay in this place a second longer.

He washes his hands again so they stop feeling as clammy and touches his face with them too. The cold water helps a lot, but his own eyes look wild in the mirror.

As he exits the bathrooms, he looks over the crowd that gathered inside since he fled the bar. Just as before, most people don't even look in his direction and he realizes that the man in a suit who stared at him earlier is gone as well.

Then, he turns around to close the door and suddenly he's faced with a bright yellow sign that warns: "Under Maintenance" in bold, black letters. An official looking printout below adds: "DO NOT ENTER".

None of those signs have been there before.

All Sam can do at this point is grip his bag, lower his head, and exit the bar as fast as possible. If he is getting strangled or stabbed today, he at least wants for it to happen in his home.

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

Shoutout to tumblr for glitching a making me feel like I've lost over 700 words of a draft <3 That mini heart-attack was very necessary.

Btw, funny thing about this chapter is that I've basically spent the entire time thinking that I'm doing too much. Like... I keep pushing Sam deeper and deeper into this spiral, but nothing really happened to him. It's not a big deal, calm down, man.

But then I have to remind myself that if some suspicious looking man knocked on my door, told me that he got my address from a person I don't know, asked me where I worked, and grabbed my arm so hard it nearly broke... I would simply perish on the spot from the stress xD Or I'd spent the rest of my life paranoid, even if nothing more happened.

So I think Sam should be allowed to have a 4-day almost panic attack, as a treat.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #the falcon #winter soldier #captain america #ca:tws #onlysambucky #assassinate them with kindness #ATWK #my writing

29 notes · View notes

ncisladaily · 2 months

Text

Why is Sam (LL COOL J) in Hawai’i? That’s the mystery that’s been set up across the first three episodes of NCIS: Hawai’i Season3, and as Vanessa Lachey told us, “Tennant will figure it out.” Well, we’re certainly seeing her trying to do just that.

It all began in the premiere, when Ernie (Jason Antoon) tried to get anything out of Sam, only to come to the conclusion that he’s hiding something, despite the agent’s insistence he’s not. Then, in the second episode, Swift (Henry Ian Cusick), on his way out, told Tennant that Sam was sticking around and she’d have to ask him why. Sam evaded the question and would only say that brass has him teaching a seminar on unconventional tactics in modern law enforcement.

Now, in the third episode, Ernie remains suspicious of Sam, especially since he’s going around telling everyone about that seminar, as he notes to Tennant. It’s odd, that NCIS would send its top OSP agent to Hawai’i to teach a class. She agrees, but she doesn’t get anything more out of Sam, who tells her she can’t attend the seminar because it’s fully booked.

Then, Tennant and Kai (Alex Tarrant) find Sam has taken over the war room—and set it to SCIF (sensitive compartmented information facility) level—for some work. “I was checking in with Kensi and Deeks back in LA, getting some details about a past case,” he claims, agreeing, when she suggests it, that it was for his seminar. “Safety first,” he says. Tennant’s clearly not buying any of it … which is why she tracks his visitor ID’s access and follows when he sets foot in the old admin basement across the street that hasn’t been used since WWII. Inside, she finds him teaching his seminar. It’s both as frustrating as Tennant finds it and entertaining as it sounds. But come on, would you expect this to play out any other way?

Karen Neal/CBS

At the end of the episode, Tennant joins Sam on his boat, and he again pretends he’s just in Hawai’i for the seminar. As far as an official cover goes, it’s a good one, she remarks, reminding him, “I spent half my life as a CIA officer. I know cover.” It doesn’t matter what she believes, she adds, just that she trusts him and she knows he’ll tell her why he’s really in Hawai’i when he can.

But we’re not as patient as Tennant is. Now, we have to wonder if Sam was really talking to Kensi and Deeks (played by Daniela Ruah and Eric Christian Olsen on NCIS: Los Angeles, which ended its 14-season run in May 2023) or someone else, plus if it was about a past case or something else. Before he came to the island, Sam was last seen in the LA finale in Morocco, alongside Callen (Chris O’Donnell), Nell (Renée Felice Smith), and the team she’d put together—including Nate (Peter Cambor) and Sabatino (Erik Palladino)—as part of the mission to rescue Hetty. He was still there and therefore in the neighborhood, when he came to Tennant and Kate’s (Tori Anderson) aid in the Hawai’i Season 2 finale.

Could Sam have been talking to Kensi and Deeks or someone from that team Nell put together about Hetty? We haven’t heard anything about that mission to rescue her. What if Sam’s in Hawai’i because that’s the only place to get information as to her location or something that will help there? Or maybe there’s another open case that Sam’s working and he was talking to Kensi and Deeks about that. It could even technically be a past case that was never closed and therefore he wasn’t technically lying to Tennant and Kai. This could be why LL COOL J was vague when we tried to find out if we’d get an update on any of the LA characters with him now on Hawai’i.

Whatever’s going on, at least it’s clear that we will get answers, with Ernie suspicious and Tennant letting Sam know that he can talk to her when he can. What do you think is going on? Let us know in the comments below.

#😩😩😩😩#just tell us where she is already!!#hetty lange #sam hanna #ncis la #ncis hawaii #densi

22 notes · View notes

lostmyhufflepuffstatus · 1 year

Text

Tear Drops on My Guitar

Word Count: 957

Summary: You've been friends with Sam Winchester for a long time, but lately you have been gaining more than platonic feelings for him.

Warnings: terrible writing as per usual

Genre: Angst????

A/N: I guess I'm breaking out of my Criminal Minds fandom shell... not going to lie the Supernatural fandom scares me... even though I have been a part of it for over 8 years.

Requests: OPEN

It had been two years of being at Stanford University with Sam Winchester, a year and a half since you got the courage to talk to him in a shared class, and just over a year of friendship. It was a shock to nobody when you told a mutual friend about your more than platonic feelings for Sam. For a while, you held up hope that he might share those feelings, I mean, it's hard not to form a bond with someone who was up all-night studying with you and was one of the first people to congratulate you when you got that near perfect score on the LSATs, even though they were a music composition major.

There were many drunken nights where he would tell you a bit about his family, how his father was constantly moving him and his brother around as kids, and how Sam never got the chance to put down secure roots in one place until he got into school. He admitted that he hadn’t told anyone about that until you. He could finally have friends and a life of his own. You thought about those nights a lot

You dragged your eyes away from his form, looking down at your notebook to look like you were studying, but the paper was blank. You knew deep down that if you kept looking at him with her, you would start crying in the middle of the courtyard. But you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes returned to him and Jessica. You wished with everything you had that you could hate her, that you could just pretend she didn’t exist, that she was some horrible monster that would just go away once you opened your eyes and stopped being scared. But you couldn’t. She made your best friend so happy; she was so kind to everyone and had never said a hateful thing about anyone that didn’t deserve it. That was what hurt the most.

You couldn’t picture anyone more perfect for Sam, nobody else deserved the kind of love that he showed her. You had never seen the smile on his face that he had. Sure, he smiled at you, and those were genuine, but the smiles he reserved for Jessica made him look alive like he was invisible.

You forced yourself to look away and gather up your things. You had tortured yourself for too long. While rushing to shove things into your bag, you couldn’t fight the urge to just look up one last time. As you were standing up Sam turned his head away from his conversation with Jess and met your gaze. You saw his face break out into the brightest smile, and that hurt. You forced the muscles in your face to return his grin with a small smile of your own. He looked like he was going to get up to try and talk to you, but you knew that you couldn’t take to him right now without spilling your heart out for him, and the rest of the students wandering around to see. You gave him a small wave before turning on your heel and making your way out of the courtyard as calmly as possible.

You could feel your eyes starting to burn with tears. The second you knew you were sure Sam wasn’t following you and you were out of his line of sight; you started running to your room. You needed the safety of the four blank walls. It was a blessing that your roommate had gone home for the weekend and wouldn’t be back until Monday.

You almost broke your key in the lock as you rushed to push the door open. You closed it hard behind you and locked it. The moment the lock clicked into place you felt the tears come. Sliding down the door, you covered your face in your hands and just let the tears go and today you couldn't seem to get them to stop. You didn’t know how much time you spent sitting on the floor in front of your door, how long you felt like the sobs being forced from your body would tear you in half. It was long enough for the sun to start its descent in the sky and the first stars began to show. After the last tear was expelled from your body, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, and then another.

Standing up you turned to the mirror that was covered in pictures, pictures of your family, your friends from home, your cats Moose and Squirrel, and of course a picture of you and Sam. That one had been taken on your 21st birthday. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you were making stupid faces at the camera completely in a world of happiness and bliss. You carefully removed the photo from the mirror and held it in your hands; you had an impulsive thought to just tear the photograph into little pieces and throw them away. But you knew that you would regret that if you did, so you shoved it into a drawer in your desk. You shoved your shoes off, not bothering to put them back where they needed to go before climbing into your bed, still in your day clothes. Pulling the blankets over your head, you hugged a pillow close to your chest and forced your eyes to close.

Maybe going to bed early, incredibly early apparently since the sun hadn’t fully set, and getting some sleep would make you feel better. Forcing your eyes to close, you hugged the pillow tighter as the first silent tears began to fall you thought about that smile, it was like you were back in the courtyard again but this time instead of Jess, that smile was for you.

#sam winchester imagines #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #supernatural imagines #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction

125 notes · View notes

anonymityisfunwriter · 2 years

Text

Two Sides of the Same Coin - Chapter 13: "Mirrorball"

"I'm still a believer, but I don't know why. I've never been a natural all I do is try, try, try..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

Sam tightly grips the steering wheel of his car, blaring the music at potentially ear-drum shattering levels to try and drown out the words of his once closest friends.

He'd never questioned how he'd chosen to introduce you to the world.

Not once.

He'd once told Bucky that there was no handbook on properly introducing someone into modern-day society.

He had to introduce you to the most basic, fundamental aspects of life- music, film, everything that came with living in a city, there was no shortage of things that he had to show you.

And he loved doing it, but now his friend's words and borderline accusations sat in his mind, all seeds of doubt planted and already taking root. Had he done the wrong thing keeping you off the Compound?

He didn't think so, but he couldn't deny that part of the problem was that they didn't know you like Sam knew you. Part of the problem was that there wasn't any trust there, and how could there be when he'd kept you from them?

“So if we’re all here, where’d you leave her?” Tony asks, majority of the team surrounding the conference table all watching Sam look uncharacteristically furious.

“With Bucky,” Sam responds in a clipped tone.

“You trust her with Bucky and not us?” Tony retorts playfully. Or at least that was his intention, it's clear the second the words leave his mouth that Sam did not take it that way.

“I don’t really think anyone in this room has any right to question who I do and do not trust her with.”

“Sam, let’s not pretend that was any less her fault than Tony and Steve’s,” Clint interjects.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” Sam scoffs.

“I’m serious. If she can’t handle being around other Avengers then maybe she shouldn’t be here. She hurt somebody, that’s on her.”

“Seriously, Clint what’s your problem?” Sam demands, a furious expression flashing on his face as he crosses his arms in anger and unbridled irritation.

“My problem is it's practically her second day here- hell, she's not even living here yet, and she hurt one of our own. She hurt Wanda! Why is everyone so okay with that?”

"Clint," Wanda warns.

"They both got hurt," Sam corrects. "Both of them- just like what happened is everyone's fault."

“Just a question, since when do we let Sam lecture us like this?” Tony interjects, doubling down on his sarcasm.

“Since you idiots messed up," Sam seethes. "Badly messed up. And she's not going to hold it against any of you, but I’m not going to let what happened slide that easily. I have half a mind to keep her as far away from this compound as possible.”

“Look, we’ve all moved on. We’ve let it go,” Tony sighs, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you doing the same?”

“I don’t think you guys understand the gravity of what happened the other day.”

“Sam, don’t you think you’re blowing this a little out of proportion?” Steve asks. “We completely understand that we were out of line, but it happened and instead of dwelling on it, we should learn from it and move forward.”

"Move forward? She got hurt, Wanda got hurt. Hell, we're lucky that we even found her - correction, we're lucky that Bucky found her."

“What about you, huh? Maybe if you’d introduced her to us, let her move onto the compound, and hadn't hidden her for almost a year, maybe she'd be able to control herself. Maybe she would know how to react in these situations.”

“You don’t have a fucking clue about what you’re talking about,” Sam bites back.

“You waited almost a year before you introduced her to her future team, did you not? " Tony continues, his statements bordering on accusations. "And I believe it was 6 months before you introduced her to anyone other than the people that walked past her on the street.”

“What? You wanted me to throw her headfirst into missions. Teach her to be a good little soldier before she even got to be a person. I gave her time, not nearly enough, but I gave her time to be a person- an actual person. I’m not going to let her use this,” Sam gestures to the room around him. “The way you all use this.”

“And what does that mean?” Tony scoffs.

“I think you know exactly what that means. And maybe you should think about why you can't-”

"I think that's enough," Fury interrupts, striding into the room halting what was becoming a less than productive verbal brawl between people who were supposed to trust each other with their lives- people that were supposed to be friends.

After that, things cooled down. They gave the team a brief, vague synopsis of you- to everyone except Steve and Tony who were both privy to your file. Sheltered didn't even begin to cover what you were, and while a year later you were much better off, you still had a lot to learn. You were a people pleaser at heart, always wanting to make those around you happy even at your own expense. Clint was the only person not sold- he vowed to stay as far away from you as possible.

So after a long day of fighting it out with his team and friends, out of all the ways Sam expects you and Bucky to be when he gets home, he doesn’t ever imagine he’d find the two of you in the kitchen, giggling as Bucky twirls you around the kitchen.

Conflicted was not a strong enough word for the conundrum Sam found himself in - he'd been the one to pair you two in the first place, and it was all very intentional on his part.

But he found himself being very protective of you, almost like an older brother to you.

But Bucky was one of his closest friends. He'd warned Bucky once to not flirt with you, but it didn't seem like you minded it all that much.

He'd decided a few months ago to let things naturally take their course, to let whatever was going to happen simply happen, but doing nothing didn't come easily to Sam. He wanted to protect you from any more hurt, even if Bucky wouldn't intentionally hurt you.

But he also wanted Bucky to be happy, and it seemed like you made him happy. You both were good people, but emotional baggage was an understatement when it came to you two.

It seemed like with each passing day, with each person brought into your life - things just kept getting muddled, getting more complicated and intricate with each fleeting moment.

With the events of the last two days and the growing complexity of your situation, regardless of Bucky, lately Sam found himself at a loss of what to do. Of how to move forward. And if he didn't know what to do, how the hell was he supposed to help you?

“Ahem,” he loudly clears his throat.

“Oh, hi, Sam!” you chirp, your face still flushed as you and Bucky jump away from each other, Bucky immediately dropping his arm from it's former place around your waist holding you tightly against him.

"What are you guys doing?" Sam asks with an eyebrow raised.

"How'd it go?" Bucky asks instead.

"About as well as you'd expect," Sam grunts, still knowingly staring at the two of you. "It's settled, what's done is done."

"That's good, I guess..." you offer quietly. "Have you eaten? There's some leftovers in the fridge."

"Thanks," Sam nods. Then the room remains silent, you, Sam, and Bucky unsure of what to say to each other. On the one hand, Sam understands what happened. It was an accident, and he knows you would never intentionally hurt anyone. On the other hand, your reaction, the way you ran, was not okay in his book. What if Bucky hadn't gotten lucky and found you? What if you had further injured yourself in the woods?

"Right, well I should go..." Bucky awkwardly states. You smile at him, murmuring a goodbye as Sam walks him out.

And when Sam comes back, you decide it's best to sleep on it, or at least postpone what was going to be a particularly difficult conversation. "I'm going to bed."

Sam's eyes narrow suspiciously. "You're not getting out of this conversation."

"I know."

"As long as you know- we'll talk tomorrow," he sighs, needing to sleep off what had already been a difficult day.

"'Night, Sam."

"'Night."

And when you wake in the morning, you busy yourself making a full breakfast spread to keep your mind from wondering onto the difficult conversation you were bound to have with Sam. Another thing that your mind kept wandering to- the way your stomach fluttered as Bucky swayed you around the kitchen with his metal hand on the small of your back. In fact, you found yourself thinking about Bucky much more than you'd ever care to admit. You just couldn't decide if that was normal or not. "Making breakfast still doesn't get you out of this conversation," Sam says, interrupting your daydream.

"I'm not trying to," you quietly promise. "Think of it as an apology breakfast."

"Apology? For what?"

"For having to defend me to your friends."

He sighs, not really sure what to say about any of it. "You know you're my friend too, right?"

"But you knew them first. It's bad enough that you had to leave them because of me."

"You didn't do anything. I made the choice to leave the compound. And it doesn't matter that I knew them first- you know you're not just my asset. You're my friend- first and foremost, you are my friend, but you've got to be honest with me. Okay?"

"Okay."

“You know you shouldn’t have run, right?” Sam bluntly asks.

"I know."

"And you know that you didn't deserve getting hurt, right?" You remain silent for a moment longer than Sam's liking. "We don't do that anymore. We don't punish ourselves. And just because you made a mistake doesn't mean you slip back into those old habits."

"I know."

“Things are going to be different, I’m not going to lie about that, but you've got to talk to me. Open dialogue- that's the only way this works."

"Open dialogue," you promise. "You should eat, the food's going to get cold."

He nods, trying to gauge your reaction as he speaks his next words, "And after breakfast, we've got to get a move on. This house isn't going to pack itself and now you're down an arm."

You head snaps over to where Sam is standing, "We're still moving?"

"If you're okay with that."

"Are they okay with that?" you counter.

"I talked to them. No one's mad at you," Sam says, though he leaves out that that Clint was still very much mad at you. He knew he'd have to keep an eye out for that, for Clint and Tony. Tony was a good guy at heart, but sometimes his ambition, his curiosity got the best of him. And Clint, Clint was walking on very thin ice with the grudge he'd promised he'd keep.

"Right," you nod dubiously. As trusting as you were, you couldn't believe that they would all forgive you that easily.

“Sam? Can I ask you a question?” you ask, taping up your last box. You'd been debating asking Sam the entire time you'd been packing. On one hand, you and Sam didn't keep secrets from each other- you'd just promised him an open dialogue. One the other hand, these feelings felt so personal, like they were your very own, very fragile secret that you needed to protect. You went with your gut instinct: to trust Sam. "You know, open dialogue and everything?"

“Shoot,” he says, scribbling on one of the boxes.

“What do you think it means when you can’t stop thinking about someone?” you meekly ask.

Sam looks up to look at your face, blushing with mild embarrassment. “Does someone have a crush? Who is it? Tell me who it is!”

“A crush,” you nod, cheeks still flaming as you turn to walk away until Sam grabs your uninjured arm to stop you.

“Uh, uh, you can’t just leave without telling me anything. Is this about a certain hundred year old super soldier?” He stops, visibly wondering about the words he just spoke. “It’s weird that there’s more than one person that fits that criteria, isn’t it?”

“Definitely weird,” you agree, slipping out of Sam's grasp.

“How about: Is this about a certain man I caught you flouncing around the kitchen with yesterday? Name rhymes with lucky?”

“James doesn’t rhyme with lucky,” you audibly wonder, cringing when you realized what you'd accidentally let slip.

“Ah!” Sam exclaims, his finger pointing in excitement and accusation. He wasn't even really sure whether he welcomed or rebuffed this new development, so he just went with it. “It is about Bucky! I knew it! I called it! Let the record state that Sam Wilson called it!”

"Called what?" you innocently ask.

"Nothing," he shakes his head dismissively. "Just for me to know."

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

385 notes · View notes

stxrvel · 2 years

Text

strike two (4)

summary: you begin to analyse your friendship with Bucky as revelations appear around the corner.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: no idea, more than 3k that's sure

warnings: mention of feelings of sadness and anxiety

note: i don't even know what's going on with my life these days. i've been with so much ups and downs that i don't think i can follow my life's pace anymore. why is it so difficult just to live? anyways, i still find comfort in writing even tho i don't enjoy music as much as i used to, and that's scary. i hope i still find some light in writing from now on, cause that would be the only thing that keeps me afloat.

i hope you enjoy this chapter!

part 4 of how to break a routine in one year

You hadn't missed the news that morning. And, in a way, you wished you had. Sam Wilson, aka Falcon, was handing over the great Captain America's shield; a simile object that brought back memories of bitter times. The supersoldier had become an icon since the defeat of Thanos, much more so than he was when he was frozen for several decades, living as a myth. He had been reborn to become a legend, and a constant reminder of all that you had lost. You saw his face everywhere, and Tony Stark's, decorating the streets of Washington; you couldn't even shop in peace without finding the face of one of the Avengers on a box of cereal or stamped on a cup of chocolate. The most mundane routines of your life had begun to become a constant martyrdom where every corner forced you to remember that you were someone that day that the you of five and a half years ago would not have recognised.

Ever since Emmet came to your flat, to do what was best for both of you that you could never have done, you felt that your chip of conformity and warmth had been burnt out. That same night, you had arranged to meet Bucky to talk the next day, you remembered it perfectly.

But even so, you couldn't find it in you to open the door when he knocked once; twice; three times… four times. Your feet were planted in front of the door, your whole body static and your heart hammering fiercely inside your chest even though you felt every limb of your body freeze. When Bucky knocked for the umpteenth time, you could barely remember him saying anything from the other side of the door. You remembered the sound of his voice, but you couldn't put together and make sense of the words trying to form a sentence. Your mind was scattered, but alert to any sign of danger. It was so difficult and overwhelming to be so unaware of your reality and the now, but at the same time to be so aware of everything your senses perceived in a matter of seconds. Your instinct begged you to hide, to flee to the comfort of your bed and lie under the covers and pretend the problems didn't exist and imagine that everything was magically solved, as you did for a long time during the disappearance of half the people on the planet.

But, in the end, you couldn't open the door. And you knew that Bucky had spoken to you for a long time from the other side, but you couldn't remember anything he had said.

Later that night, when you were more aware of reality, you sat on your balcony next to your cup of green tea, something you hoped would help you get some sleep that night.

What happened after those moments you did remember.

“Are you okay?” your neighbour's voice alerted you. You turned in surprise to find Bucky facing you, his body leaning against the railing of his balcony, watching you warily as if at any moment you were going to run away.

At some other time, his intrusion would bother you, especially after that week, but you were feeling especially vulnerable that night, enough so that you didn't mind too much telling Bucky about your dilemmas with your eyes lost in the infinity of stars that adorned the night sky, afraid that he would suddenly think you were going crazy, or on the verge of an existential crisis.

At that moment, you didn't really care about much.

“Emmet broke up with me,” you blurted out suddenly, not really answering his question.

“Oh-”

“But it didn't really bother me, or upset me, nor do I feel like the saddest or most unhappy person in the world. I guess I had seen it coming, but I didn't want to accept it because ending it would mean starting over in this world that's crazy enough as it is.”

You detailed the moon as your thoughts drifted back to the night before, to that moment when you realised you were clinging to a lost cause.

“I thought that… I thought I had it all figured out. Before the blip I thought nothing could defeat me and my perfect life; after the blip I thought I could fix it all by moving to another continent; when Emmet came back, I thought I could get back that normal perfect life that used to make me happy, it was a strange monotony, like the one everyone goes through at some point, but I loved it. And I couldn't get it back. Nothing I ever had I could ever get back.”

You looked down to watch the green tea bag float inside the cup.

“And now all I have is this. Nothing. An extinct survival instinct. Everything I knew is gone and everything new… It terrifies me. I'm so scared.”

When you looked up again at the stars that adorned the clear night, you felt the tears running down your cheeks. You were not a fan of that feeling and sensation, preferring more the solitude that came with repressing every feeling of suffering in the darkness of a room. However, the knot in your chest was too big to hold in any longer, and in that moment, in that fleeting moment, you preferred to let it out.

If you really didn't have anything else, what difference did it make?

You breathed in hard, until your lungs ached, and let the air out heavily. You turned to look at Bucky, his gaze reflected an expression you couldn't decipher, but you didn't feel like it either. Before he decided to answer you, you took the floor again:

“What was it you wanted to tell me last night?”

The man's expression was obfuscated by the sudden change of subject, but with his frown he didn't give the matter much head.

“I wanted to apologise to you, for my attitude over the last few weeks, it wasn't the most appropriate. But it wasn't for the reason you thought.”

“So... you don't mind me asking questions about your life?”

Bucky shrugged, his gaze turned to the city lights.

“I suppose I've been asked worse. A birthday never hurts.”

You smiled at him, sincerely.

“However, there was a reason I had that less than exemplary behaviour.”

“I don't think you've ever been as forthcoming as you were tonight. Is it because of the full moon?”

Bucky tried to hold back a smile, but it failed terribly so he decided to avert his gaze from yours. He didn't like you trying to be funny at that moment because he was going to tell you something he didn't know how you were going to take it, and nervousness was taking over his body in a way he didn't know how to decipher.

“The thing is…” Bucky took the floor again, his forearms resting on the railing and his body pointing towards yours, hands clasped. He didn't know how not to look like he was about to explode, “Because of my job, I've had to do a few things these past days. And, also, during that time, I had time to reflect on our, um… friendship?”

The man frowned, as if the word wasn't the one he was looking for to express what he wanted to say, but watching your confused expression made him put those ideas out of his mind.

“My job was a complicated thing. It's not really something I'm proud of and there's a lot of things about it that I'm still trying to fix. But the things that made me think about our friendship were that, because of my job, I've made a lot of enemies. Too many. And I don't want you to…”

Bucky cut himself off mid-sentence, his heavy breathing beginning to heave. “I don't want one of those people to connect you to me and try to hurt you.”

He watched you, unsettled by your immobility. And yes, you were just watching him, because of everything he could say about it that he hadn't told you, that was the last thing you expected.

“My job was… I mean, I was…”

He fell silent again mid-sentence, his nerves winning out in his moment of bravery. He didn't know why he suddenly cared so much about what you thought about what he was about to say, when for a long time he didn't care that that was all that was talked and thought about him.

“You were the Winter Soldier.”

The stunned expression the man gave you after hearing your words was one you wanted to keep in your head forever; at least in those moments you needed to laugh. Despite the darkness, you could notice his small pupils and how he stopped the anxious movements of his hands.

“How did you…?”

“I was overcome with curiosity. I was more surprised I hadn't figured it out sooner. But Sam was what intrigued me much more, and since recently the news has been all about him it's very easy to find certain information on the internet.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, slightly relieved that you hadn't taken it as badly as he'd hoped.

“If it's any consolation, I only found out about it about two hours ago.”

The man gave a half-smile.

“To be honest, I was also surprised you didn't already know. I mean, there's Avengers news everywhere all the time. And a few years ago there was a scandal… that just... phew.”

You let out a short laugh, your hands moving to set your cup with the forgotten tea on the small glass table you had on the balcony.

“I was never a big Avengers fan. I lived far enough away from the news and the networks to not know anything about them.”

“Oh. That's a good reason.”

“But it's not personal, don't worry.”

“Well, that's a relief.”

And that was true, it wasn't personal, but you couldn't help the strange feeling that stayed with you from the moment you found out, to the moment you woke up the next day and saw on the news that Sam Wilson had given Captain America's shield to the Smithsonian. Your mind quickly went to Bucky as soon as you heard the headline, thinking about how the man must have been feeling at that moment when you knew that this great hero had been his best and greatest friend in life.

But you didn't have to wonder for long.

When you left your house, just a few minutes later, you found Bucky coming out of his. You were about to greet him as you were accustomed to doing when you noticed his disgruntled face.

Yes, the shield.

“Hi,” you greeted innocently, not really knowing how to approach the subject.

“Hi,” Bucky greeted you back, drier than usual, but you didn't blame him.

You moved to his side as he approached the elevator and waited on your feet as you watched him out of the corner of your eye. His chest was rising and falling a little faster than usual, and you could hear how loud his breathing was. You decided not to look, but you could already imagine that his hands were clasped at the sides of his body.

“Going somewhere in such a hurry?”

“To see Sam.”

The lift doors opened.

“Oh, yeah, right.”

You two stepped inside and quickly Bucky pressed the first floor.

“And where's Sam?”

“About to get on a plane.”

“Oh.”

The lift stopped and Bucky stepped out taking large strides without looking back. With short but quick steps, you promptly approached him.

“May I join you?”

Your feet crossed and you felt the friction of a blow against a strong physiognomy. Bucky had stopped his long strides suddenly and you had bumped into his back for not looking more carefully.

The man turned around, his eyes darting quickly to yours. He seemed to be looking for something in your face that told him you were joking or hoping you would back down under his intimidating gaze.

“No. That's not a good idea.”

“But-”

“I said no. Did you even hear anything I said last night?”

You opened your mouth to refute, but nothing came out of it because you knew you didn't have a good argument. You just wanted to go along with him and make sure on your own that it would be okay, that he would be fine.

Something told you that this outing in search of Sam would end with the two of you not seeing each other for a few days.

Soon, as if he could read the feelings crossing your eyes, Bucky softened his gaze and spoke again, “I know you're worried, but I can take care of myself. I have experience. And Sam will be watching, too.”

“You won't tell Sam that I expect him to take care of you.”

“No,” the man admitted without a hint of embarrassment, “but he will anyway.”

You sighed, your slumped shoulders shifting slightly in time with your discomfort. Bucky began to walk away, not taking his gaze from yours.

“I'll be back when you least expect it.”

“Text me!” you exclaimed as he was already reaching the exit.

The man raised his hand in response.

It was definitely going to be a long few days.

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

You didn't really expect Bucky to write you. Not at all.

Well… maybe a little.

A little bit, yeah.

Definitely.

Notwithstanding the fact that you weren't exactly expecting Bucky to let you know how his journey was going, it was clear that the last thing you expected was a message from an unknown number in your inbox, with a 16-second video of Sam stinging Bucky until he ripped the mobile phone out of his hands and the video cut out.

It was Sam's number.

“Hey, what's up? We just finished the day's work. We're in perfect shape, the bloodstains aren't ours, don't worry.”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” you could hear Bucky's voice, and you smiled imagining his frown.

Sam turned the front camera to focus on Bucky.

“There's sourpuss Barnes, safe and sound. Say hello to your girlfriend, Barnes.”

That's when Bucky took the mobile phone from Sam and the video ended.

You stared at the screen as the video restarted. Sam's words sounded strange, completely foreign, and an unusual, unfamiliar feeling spread through your body that you didn't really know how to interpret.

“Y/N?”

Your co-worker, Tania, snapped you out of your musings. You raised your head to look at the brown-haired woman sitting at the desk across from you, seeing you through her dark glasses, one of her eyebrows was arched and it didn't take you long to notice the folder in her hands.

“What's wrong?”

“Who were you talking to?”

You frowned.

“No one.” you replied as you locked your mobile phone without answering and left it face down on the table.

Tania shook her head slightly in refusal as, for some reason, your hands began to sweat as if you were on top of a roller coaster about to fall.

“You're up to something strange these days.”

“I've been exactly the same as always.”

“Look, we've only known each other for a short time, but your face and eyes are very expressive. A very detailed person could tell a lot about you just by looking at your expressions.”

“And you're that kind of person?”

“Maybe, I wouldn't want to give myself too much credit,” Tania batted her eyelashes with a fussy smile, her hands moving nimbly over her computer keyboard. “Did you hear about the meeting on Wednesday?”

“Yes,” you promptly replied as you resumed your work in front of your computer. An exaggerated number of tabs fluttered open as you moved your mouse, your brow furrowing as you remembered that you hadn't made much progress since you came in after lunch. Looking at the clock on the bottom right, it was fifteen minutes to three. Almost two hours and you'd barely made two paragraphs. Sometimes being a substancer wasn't as entertaining as it sounded.

“And you're going?”

You looked up to see your partner, her eyes fixed on the screen. You dug through your head for memories of the moment when the meeting was announced, but you couldn't conjure up a moment when they gave information about attendance.

“It's for managers only, isn't it?”

Tania gave you a look.

“It's open to all staff. Those on floor two can bring a chaperone, but only those who are chosen. Ryan told me it was performance based, but I think it's random.”

“And you plan to bring someone?”

“Mmm, I don't know yet. Things with Marc have been going well, but I'm not sure I want to go that far.”

Tania twisted her lips and gave you a look.

“You could be my plus one.”

You let out a wry laugh.

“I don't think I'll be attending. It's just business stuff, it's not an environment I'm too fond of.”

“Maybe you'll cheer up if you go with the person you were smiling at on your mobile phone.”

You looked up to observe her. As opposed to being intimidated, Tania lets out a knowing chuckle and, from the twinkle in her eye, you knew she wouldn't stop mentioning it for a while.

Good thing you were so good at ignoring those kinds of situations to avoid awkward conversations.

One thing that was also true was that you definitely didn't expect Sam to keep sending you pictures or videos of his travels doing God knows what.

It had been four days since Bucky had left. Four days since Sam started sending you those files; by that point, you had a whole folder of files you could make a birthday video out of, some of them of the men looking bruised and some of them of Sam flying and zooming in on Bucky's figure on dry land, and another of Bucky lying on the ground, with a pretty funny grimace on his face.

You knew Bucky must have been irritated by those videos, but you couldn't help but watch them with a smile on your face all the way to your flat. You replayed them so much that at one point you swore you saw a hint of laughter on Bucky Barnes' face. Unheard of.

You were getting closer and closer to home. The bus station left you only about five blocks away from what you had cautiously grown accustomed to walking. Sometimes the time passed ultra-fast when you walked them with Bucky, but when you did it alone, it was a good moment of reflection before you entered your flat and lay down in the comfort of your bed, where you tried not to carry the stress of the day… although it was very difficult.

A little less than a block away, you again came across what you had begun to notice just a few days before: the symbol of the Flag Smashers, an organised group that you only knew a few things about. It made you a little uneasy to see it every time you got home, but it wasn't as overwhelming a sense of terror or panic as the media wanted to portray it. It was more fear of what might happen to them.

When you entered the lobby of the building, you went to check your mailbox. There were a few people clustered together talking at the reception desk and their murmurs reached your position almost eight metres away. They weren't really trying to be quiet.

“I don't understand how you could accept a date with that man,” the super-recognisable voice of Mrs Tina Sawyer echoed throughout the room. You didn't have to think twice to know who she was talking about and, honestly, it made you nauseous just thinking about how many times those people could have met to talk about him like that.

“You're too hard on him, Tina,” an unfamiliar voice rebutted. You frowned as you skimmed through the few envelopes that had arrived in the mail.

“I'm just trying to be honest and objective. For God's sake, Leah, he left you alone on that date!”

Date?

“No big deal. It sounded like he had problems of his own to deal with.”

You heard a click of the tongue and deduced that it was Tina again, and you imagined with displeasure the grimace of indignation that must have been on her face. You still didn't understand how this woman could be so unreasonable and how she could treat Bucky, who had never meddled in her affairs and never put her name on his mouth, in such a way.

“I don't know anyone so foolish as to… -well, to be honest…”

The woman was silent. You prepared to put away your mail and head back to your flat without looking back, not wanting to listen again or even think about other people's foolishness.

“Oh, Y/N, dear,” Mrs. Sawyer called to you.

You closed your eyes tightly. You didn't have the patience to put up with that, so you just turned around and gave a polite smile to each and every person present; there really couldn't have been more than five people, but there were enough of them.

“Good evening, Mrs. Sawyer. And company,” you nodded your head slightly forward in salute, “If you'll excuse me, I'm late for my…”

“Wait. Just a sec,” Tina Sawyer walked over to you and grabbed your wrist to pull you closer to the circle, “Y/N, meet Leah, the woman who used to work at the diner next door. You probably know her. Maybe Mr. Barnes told you about her once.”

You couldn't help the scowl you gave Mrs. Sawyer. Your vain attempt to appear as formal and polite as possible was swallowed up by the hypocrisy in her eyes, and you were soon in a very compromising position to throw your purse in her face and run away.

Pull yourself together, you impulse of idiocy.

You turned to look at the aforementioned Leah, finding a woman with auburn hair and Asian features. Ah, you did know her. But definitely not from Bucky.

“Bucky's never told me about you. I'm sorry.”

You noticed Leah press her lips together in a line. She looked like she wanted to force something out of your mouth with her gaze, but you couldn't quite understand what.

“You see?” Mrs. Sawyer spoke up, “That man is a lout.”

“Just because Mr. Barnes doesn't want to share his personal life with me doesn't mean he's a bad man,” you grumbled angrily, your arm jerking fiercely out of the older woman's grip.

“But you're the one he talks to the most. Has he really never spoken to you about the possibility of a second date with Leah?” it was Mrs. Mildred who spoke, her face contorted in a genuine thrill of insecurity and concern.

“Never,” you replied without hesitation, “Just because we talk doesn't mean we tell each other everything.”

“That's true,” you heard the woman, Leah, say from feet beside you, “And you can really tell that Bucky is a person who has a hard time opening up to others.”

You frowned at the woman's words. And who did this woman think she was to speak so personally about him in front of these people? Did she really know him? Did she really care? Most likely she had only met him once, she can't know him as well as you know him, though it's not too much, but it's enough.

“Indeed, he is a reserved person. In every way,” you stressed without taking your eyes off Leah.

What did she know after all? They had only met once, right?

Hadn't they?

Your presence in that place, with every second, became more unbearable. Watching those people talk behind someone else's back was a heavy blow to your compass of morality, and you couldn't help the impending rejection you felt towards all of them at that moment.

On top of that, there was a strange pressure in your chest. It wasn't suffocating, no, but you felt it was only a matter of time before it became overwhelming.

Seeing Leah talk about Bucky like that, as if you weren't the only one he confided a thing or two in, made you feel very strange, alien, unfamiliar, or something you just preferred not to name because of how hard it would be to accept and cope with.

You knew there was something there, probably one-sided, especially now that you knew of Leah's existence; but there was something, you could definitely recognise a rather ambiguous feeling hovering at the edges of your tongue and in the curvatures of your heart.

There was something, something that was in great danger of becoming a gigantic mass of problems that would make your life more difficult than it needed to be. And the thought of it was painful, a sharp, piercing sensation you hadn't felt for a long time. The sense of anticipatory loss was running through your mind, as if preparing you for a situation that had a remote but not impossible chance of happening.

After all, what was there in you that couldn't be found in other people? You were a pretty ordinary person, especially in the eyes of someone who has literally seen all kinds of aliens. What was your real point in all that?

After that revelation, you knew that thinking about Bucky would cause you headaches from now on.

“But he's a good person,” you heard Leah say again, a smirk forming on her lips and her eyes lighting up with a memory, “I wouldn't mind asking him out the next time I see him.”

What was there in you that couldn't be found in other people?

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #avengers #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

71 notes · View notes

kimoralov3 · 1 year

Text

Just a Mission

requested by: @arkofblake (i asked her for ideas lmao) word count: 3850 pairing: sam wilson x reader warnings: it took me months to write so it might be slightly inconsistent, swearing (as usual), i don't remember what pronouns i used for the reader, slight angst, bucky and nat make a joke about sam and the reader keeping it down, fake dating, the head of the hoa, suburban neighborhood, google docs AND grammarly quit on me so there's bound to be errors somewhere

It was a fairly normal day in the life of an Avenger. Natasha and Clint were in the boxing ring, Steve and Tony were making up some plan for the next team mission, and you were getting ready to go on a mission with the man that you had had a crush on for about a year and a half now.

“I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this. You’ve been hiding your feelings for forever now, one little mission isn’t going to change that.” Bucky said as he laid on your bed, not being helpful as you ran around trying to find all your clothes.

“Bucky, this isn’t just a mission. Me and Sam are going undercover as a newlywed couple — for who knows how long might I add — there is ample opportunity for me to slip up and admit my feelings for him. And you know I can’t handle the embarrassment of being rejected! I have been doomed, and it’s you and Steve’s fault!” You said, throwing a shirt into the pile forming from your suitcase.

Bucky stared at you for a second before replying. “I never realized how adorable you are when you’re all panicky.” You let out a yell of frustration and throw your shoe at him, Bucky laughing as he easily catches it.

“You’re not helping! At all!” You said as you started pacing back and forth. Bucky finally got up, walking in front of you to stop your constant movement.

“Look, you’re gonna be fine. The mission is gonna be quick and easy, then you can come back and go back to staring at Sam like he holds the world up with his bare hands. Just do what you’ve been doing. Okay?” He said as he stared into your eyes. You let out a sigh before nodding, rubbing your eyes a bit.

“You’re right; I’m freaking out for nothing. What’s the worst that can happen?”

—

The worst that could happen was you and Sam having to drive all the way to your destination. Alone. Together. Just the two of you.

“Y/N, you’ll be fine. It’ll only be a couple hours, and you can sleep through most of it. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” Steve asked as you followed him around the compound. He had been walking from the kitchen when you found him, so he was trying to balance his sandwich in one hand and some mission files in the other. You talking to him was making that task a little more complicated than it should’ve been.

“Steve, you cannot honestly tell me that you’d be fine living alone with someone you’ve had a crush on for forever, but they don’t know about your crush, so you have to pretend like being near them—”

“Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you. Are you ready to get going?” Sam asked as he walked up to you and Steve. Steve gave you a look, raising an eyebrow before walking away. Thanks for nothing, Steven.

“Uh, yeah, I’m almost ready— let me just go grab my bags, okay?” You stuttered out as you turned and walked away. You heard Sam call out your name again, causing you to turn around so fast that you almost fell on your face.

“Your room is that way.” Sam said as he pointed in the other direction. You looked to where he was pointing, then back at him, feeling your face heat up as you walked past him without a word. This is going to be the worst mission of my life.

—

6 hours in the car, alone with Samuel Thomas Wilson, was both a dream come true and your worst nightmare. On the one hand, this was the perfect situation— you and the guy you’re in love with trapped together; if you couldn’t get him to fall in love with you now, there was no point in trying anymore. On the other hand, you’d be in a car with Sam alone. For 6 hours. It was way more likely that you would end up embarrassing yourself and pushing him away for good.

In the end, neither of those things happened because you slept all the way there. You were awoken by the soft touch of Sam’s hand shaking you gently. “We’re here.” He said as he unbuckled and got out of the car.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before stepping out of the car. You took in a deep breath before taking in your surroundings. It looked like your average suburban neighborhood. The houses were all shades of blue, yellow, or white, with the occasional very faint shade of pink. All the lawns were perfectly kept, never extending past the white picket fences. A few of them had a tree in the front, maybe even the occasional swingset. Nothing to write home about, though.

“This place already gives me bad vibes.” You mumbled to yourself. You heard Sam laugh as he closed the trunk, both of your suitcases in hand. You reached out to help him but he pulled them away before you could reach them.

“I got them. Do you have the keys?” He asked as the two of you walked up to the front door. You nodded and reached into your pocket, grabbing the keys and unlocking the door. Once you were inside, you had to laugh a little at the decor. Steve and Bucky definitely had a fun time picking things out for this house; it was the perfect blend of your and Sam’s styles.

Before the two of you could properly settle in and set everything up, there was a loud knock on the door. You looked at each other suspiciously before you opened the door, Sam standing closely behind you.

“Hi there!” Said the obnoxiously loud woman, standing on the doorstep with a plate of cookies. “You two must be the newlywed couple; I’m Amanda, a longtime resident here and head of the HOA! Welcome to the neighborhood!” She continued on as she handed you the plate of cookies. You chuckled nervously, looking up at Sam for help.

He thankfully took the hint, stepping up so that the two of you were side by side, and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Amanda. I’m Sam, and this is Y/N.” As he introduced the two of you, he casually wrapped his free arm around your waist.

You tried your hardest not to think much of it before opening your mouth again. He’s just doing his job; the two of you are supposed to be a newlywed couple, and this is what couples do! They touch each other, and don’t look like deer in headlights while doing so!

“It’s so lovely to meet you! Here, why don’t you come and sit down while I take those cookies off your hands?” You suggested with as much sugar to your tone as you could muster at the moment, stepping to the side and opening the door further so as to be more inviting. This must’ve been the right move because Amanda graciously accepted, Sam closing the door behind her and showing her to the living area. You watched as they both sat down on the couch, taking a moment to make sure everything was okay before heading to the kitchen and putting away the cookies.

Once you were finished, you walked to the living room and sat next to Sam on the couch. Amanda was perched on the loveseat diagonal to the couch, looking at the living room with a semi-judgemental eye. “Wow, I’ve never seen a house with such… unique decor! How did you both decide on this theme?” She asked as she crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair.

Sam once again took the lead, knowing that he was a lot better with his words than you were. “Well actually, Y/N and I split up the duty of choosing the decor for each room. Y/N picked out the decor for the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, and the guest bedroom, while I picked out the decor for my office, the bathrooms, and the basement. We worked together to design our bedroom and en suite, though.”

Amanda let out a small gasp of genuine shock before turning to face you fully. “Y/N dear, you better hold on tightly to this one! My husband would never offer to take care of such a big project like that!”

You laughed at that, the first real laugh since you and Sam had arrived in Virginia. “Oh believe me when I say this, I never plan on letting him go.”

—

It had been a month since you and Sam had “moved in”, and things were pretty calm for now. The two of you still hadn’t pinpointed the head of the crime ring, but it was only a matter of time now. You and Sam made sure to get more involved in neighborhood activities, making sure that nothing about you was suspicious. Well, almost nothing, according to Amanda.

“So you mean to tell me that the two of you haven’t tried for kids at all? I find that very hard to believe.” Amanda said as the two of you sipped on tea in her living room. Your face heated significantly, and not just because of the warm tea you were drinking.

“We’ve decided that we want to be a bit more stable before having kids. We just got married and bought a house, we should take some time to ourselves before adding little ones to the mix.” You let out the perfectly practiced reply. It was clear to you and Sam that the people in town were very nosy, so your lies had to be rock solid.

Amanda hummed at that, seemingly finding it believable. “Well when the two of you do have kids, I’m sure that they will be adorable. I mean I have honestly never seen such a more attractive looking couple!”

You playfully rolled your eyes, slowly getting used to Amanda’s constant comments about how good the two of you look together. If only we were really together.

“I’m sure they will be adorable.” You settled on saying, bringing the mug of brown liquid to your lips.

“Kids? Who’s having kids?” Sam asked as he walked in from the garden. Amanda had originally invited the two of you over for lunch while her kids were at school, but she mentioned that she needed help moving some stuff around in her garden, and Sam offered to help since her husband was at work. Cut to now, Sam standing behind your chair, sweat making his purple shirt cling to his muscles. Lord give me strength.

“You and Y/N. One day, hopefully.” Amanda said cheerfully, causing Sam to let out a laugh.

“Yeah, one day, but I don’t think that’ll be happening any time soon.” Sam said as he leaned on the back of your chair. Amanda scoffed, rolling her eyes and waving a dismissive hand. Sam placed a quick kiss on your forehead before getting a bottle of water and heading back outside. Amanda quirked an eyebrow at you, to which you responded to by shaking your head. This mission is so difficult but for all the wrong reasons.

—

Another month had passed by, but at least you had figured out who your target was by now. His name was Jerry. He, his wife, and his 3 kids lived at the far end of the street. He was quiet; kept to himself. Not the kind of guy you’d be expecting to be heading up a million dollar crime ring.

“The two of you are doing good, you just have to get enough information on him for us to arrest him. Do either of you have any ideas as to how you could do that?” Steve asked. The three of you were having your weekly debrief, trying to figure out how to solve this problem as quickly but quietly as possible.

“Well, Amanda is the head of the HOA. If there was something fishy going on, she would know, even if she doesn’t know she knows.” You suggested as you looked up at Sam.

“Ugh, I knew you befriending the head of the HOA would come in handy!” Sam said, causing you to smile lightly.

“What’s an HOA?” Steve asked. You chuckled, sometimes forgetting that Steve was from a different decade than you and Sam.

After a longer than necessary explanation, you and Sam ended the call with Steve, deciding to start putting your real plan into motion. You sent Amanda a quick text asking if you could come over tomorrow, to which she quickly agreed and said that the two of you could have a nice little wine night.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re actually starting to like hanging out with Amanda.” Sam teased as he laid across the couch. You rolled your eyes, flopping down into the loveseat.

“Am not! I have just realized that she is very useful for the purpose of this mission. That is all.” You defended yourself as you leaned your head over the arm rest, making your view of Sam upside down.

“Oh really? Because you seem to be really enjoying those weekly wine meetings that you two have all the time. What do you two even talk about during them anyway?”

“First of all, we do not have weekly wine meetings. Second of all, when we do drink wine, we talk about stuff that everyone always talks about with their friends, especially things people like her talk about. Her garden, her kids, her husband and everything he’s doing wrong, you, when we’re gonna change our minds and have kids— you know, the boring stuff.” You waved your hand around as you spoke, not thinking much about what you were saying.

“She’s determined that we’ll change our minds and have kids.” Sam said as he shook his head.

“Yeah, she is. Too bad this is just a mission, otherwise we could give her what she clearly desperately wants to happen.” You said with a chuckle. However, the lack of response afterwards caught your attention. You sat up and turned around to properly face Sam. “Sam? You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m actually a little bit tired, I think I’m gonna get some sleep. Goodnight.” He said, quickly walking to the bedroom. What was that about?

—

After that things between you and Sam had been a bit…off, as some might put it. It wasn’t something that would be noticeable to anyone just passing by, but you definitely took notice of his sudden distance. And you weren’t the only one to notice.

“What’s going on between you and Sam?” Amanda asked as she came to drop off your groceries. You and Sam were hosting a “neighborhood get together”, but it was really just the final step in the two of you catching Jerry in an act of crime. Amanda had agreed to help you get all the food ready, but her being a part of the plan meant that you had to listen to whatever she believed to be wrong between you and Sam.

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance as you chopped up some vegetables. Amanda scoffed as she began to get stuff together to make the rolls.

“Oh don’t bullshit me; I’ve been married for 10 years, I can smell a marital spat from a mile away. Did you two get into an argument or something?”

You sighed, weighing your options here. Continuing to insist that nothing was wrong would get you nowhere, Amanda was the most stubborn person you knew, next to Natasha. But you couldn’t tell her everything that was actually wrong, that would blow your cover and you were too close to your end goal to let that happen. What would even be your lie to get out of this?

“It’s nothing important really, just a silly little argument. Nothing life changing.” You settled with, sending Amanda a quick smile to be more convincing. If she didn’t believe you, she didn’t let it show. The two of you worked together to get all the food ready, and luckily finished before everyone began arriving. You hadn’t really seen Sam since this morning, but tried not to think too much of it. He had taken the initiative to schmooze with the husbands of the neighborhood, hoping that they would let him into the crime circle so he could get firsthand evidence. You could only hope that everything was going well and that he hadn’t gotten found out.

Luckily your wishes came true, as you saw Sam walking towards you with a determined face. “Can we talk? Upstairs?” He asked once he got to you. His tone made it seem like something had gone wrong, so you took a quick look around to make sure no one was paying close attention to the two of you before nodding and following him upstairs.

“What’s wrong? Did you get found out or something?” You asked worriedly. Sam didn’t say anything, just closed the door and stood there for a second. “Sam? Is something wrong?”

Sam turned around and gave you a confused look. “What? What are you talking about, why would you think something was wrong?”

You eyed him up and down before responding. “Sam, you haven’t acted this strange since you pranked Bucky by moving his stuff a little to the left every day until he found out about it. What’s wrong?”

Sam smiled fondly at the mention of messing with his best friend. “Ah, I remember that. Was scared to have my back turned for a week.” Sam was about to go on a long, detailed rant about all the pranks he’d played on Bucky, but the look on your face told him that doing so would not be a good idea.

Deflecting his feelings had never been a skill of his.

“Sam, if something has gone wrong, you need to tell me. Is someone suspicious of us? Do we need to move to plan b?” You asked, frantically searching Sam’s eyes for a response. Sam sighed, rubbing his hands against his face and muttering something too quick and low for you to catch.

“Look Y/N, I’m going to tell you something and I need you to listen with no interruptions. Okay?” He asked as he grabbed your hands. You nodded, signaling for him to continue. “I’m in love with you, and I have been for a couple years now. I know I’ve been kind of distant these past couple of months, but that’s because my feelings were getting stronger and I didn’t know how to handle them— and I apologize because that shouldn’t be my excuse— but I cannot hold it in any longer because it is distracting me from the mission.”

There was a moment of silence. Sam’s was out of nervousness and yours was because you were trying to process everything the man in front of you had just said.

The silence was broken when you burst into tears. Sam acted quickly, pulling you into his warm arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would make you cry.” Nice going, Wilson.

“These are happy tears, dumbass.” You said through sobs and sniffles. That made Sam stop, pushing you back slightly so he could get a better look at you. Behind the fresh tear stains and red eyes, there was the person he fell in love with. “Sam, I have been in love with you for years. Bucky has been trying to get me to confess but I was always too scared to do so. Guess I really am an idiot, huh?” You said with a chuckle as you wiped away your tears.

Sam chuckled as well, pulling you closer once again. “It seems like both of us are the idiots.”

—

Soon after that, the mission came to an end. At the end of the day, all you had to do was catch Jerry in the act and you’d been successful in doing that. The two of you had just got done filing out mission reports and you had gone back to your room. Before you could even finish unpacking, Natasha and Bucky were storming into your room and locking the door. “Hello to you guys too?” You said in a confused tone.

“What happened between you and Sam?” Natasha asked as she grabbed—snatched, actually— you halfway unpacked bag from your hands and threw it on the floor.

“What are you talking about?” You asked as you sat on your bed. You knew exactly what she was talking about, you just felt like enjoying a little game of cat and mouse.

“Don’t play that game with us. The two of you were practically walking on clouds when you got back, and then y’all were practically sitting on top of each other during the debriefing. Did one of you finally confess or do I need to lock the two of you in a room again?” Bucky asked, hands on his hips. Someone’s been spending a bit too much time with Steve.

“First of all, I still owe you an ass whooping for that. And second of all,” You continued, looking between the two of them. To the untrained eye they looked like their normal selves, but you could tell that they were bursting at the seems in anticipation. “Yes, something did happen between me and Sam.”

“Fucking finally!” They both yelled at the same time. You rolled your eyes, already expecting these reactions from them.

“You can’t just say something like that and not explain. Spill!” Natasha said as she threw one of your pillows at you.

“We’ve been here all of 5 minutes and the two of you are already hounding Y/N?” Sam said as he opened the door. Natasha and Bucky whipped around, making an annoyed noise.

“How’d you get in? I locked the door.” Natasha said as she crossed her arms. Sam held up the key to your room that you’d given him.

“How did you get a key?! I’ve been begging for one for years!” Bucky asked. You shrugged, getting up to slot yourself into Sam’s side.

“Not important. What’s important now is that the two of us want to spend some time together and y’all are interrupting that. Get out.”

Natasha and Bucky groaned playfully before shuffling their way out and muttering something about the two of you keeping it down. Once you were sure the two of them were gone, you turned around to face Sam fully. “Did you mean what you said about us spending some time together?” He asked as he smiled down at you.

“Yep. There’s this cute little cafe far enough for none of them to come bother us. Wanna head down there?” You asked sweetly.

Sam hummed, giving you a peck on your lips before pulling you towards the door. “Wouldn’t miss it for a thing.”

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson x gn!reader #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #marvel

42 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 2 years

Note

14! 14! 14! 🌈❤️

BEEEE 💜 💜 💜 Fantastic choice! I hope you enjoy the drabble! 🥰

Prompt 12: Showing the Other How to Do Something From Behind

| 11 | Prompts | 13 |

"You're going to do it," whispered Sarah as she watched Sam take out a cutting board.

"What?" said Sam innocently, "I don't know what you mean."

"You're going to do it again," said Sarah, pointing a finger at Sam and snickering.

"No, I'm not," said Sam, like a liar.

"If you keep doing this, Bucky's going to end up thinking you've never done a thing in your life. He's going to be feeding you because you said, 'Oh no. How do I use a spoon?'," said Sarah as Sam pulled out a knife.

Sam thought about Bucky feeding him food. Maybe their knees bump. Maybe they slot their thighs together when Sam's not mad at him...

"That... wouldn't be the name of the game," mumbled Sam, half-admitting to what he had been doing.

"Right. You need him to Ghost you for every single second you can get him to," said Sarah, "I'm sorry that feeding you soup from behind doesn't make sense."

Sam wondered if he could make that make sense somehow. Maybe if he rearranged the furniture?

Nope.

There were only so many things Sam could do to get Bucky to do the thing, and Sam wasn't going to do something that would make Bucky question what Sam was asking help for in a very specific way.

"You actually thought about if that would be feasible, didn't you?" asked Sarah, laughing, "Sam."

Sam whacked Sarah's arm playfully.

"Please don't judge me," said Sam quietly as Sarah laughed harder, "He's so warm and cuddly when he's pressed up on me from behind - and it's not as if I'm not running out of things that would get Bucky to Ghost me, so let me have this."

"You come from a family of fishermen. You've helped me make meals for the business. Bucky has seen you use a knife before," said Sarah, way too amused by Sam's antics, "I'm going to die if he doesn't think you can do this. I'm going to just laugh myself to death."

Sarah would probably say that Sam started this whole thing, but Sam knew in his heart he didn't. He didn't... start this. No, that was Bucky. One-hundred percent Bucky.

Maybe Sam had thought about something like this before. When he pretended he couldn't tighten that pipe and he felt Bucky pat his hip. Thought of more of Bucky surrounding him, holding him as he did a task...

But that was only a random fantasy that Sam tucked away into the "probably never happening" part of his brain before it actually happened.

It had happened at the party celebrating Sam becoming Captain America. Because of course it did. It was off-season, so they couldn't do a boil, but they did pull off a barbecue, and despite everyone explicitly telling Sam that he wasn't lifting a finger during the party, well, Sam wasn't the type of person who could leave all the work up to everyone else.

Bucky - bring an ice cream cake to an outdoor party in Louisiana Bucky, wear Sam's shirt and borrow Sam's car then have the audacity to say Sam didn't share Bucky - had found Sam at the grill after Sam had tricked someone into letting Sam make a few dozen burgers.

Sam had looked more confused because he was looking at the set up and trying to find the spatula more than anything, but Bucky had taken it as a sign that Sam had never made a burger in his life.

"Oh, you haven't done this before?" asked Bucky and before Sam could toss Bucky some banter back, Bucky ceremoniously slotted himself right behind Sam and Sam lost his ability to think, "Let me help."

And Bucky did not know how to flip burgers. Truly, Sam was actually impressed with how bad Bucky was at grilling burgers. It was unreal. If there was an award for worst burger maker, the organization would have to close down after handing out their last award to Bucky because no one would be as bad at making burgers as Bucky Barnes.

But Sam couldn't say it. Not with Bucky sexily whispering into his ear, "Do you have the hang of it now?", not with how Sam could feel the reason Bucky was nicknamed Big Dick Barnes in the unabridged James Buchanan Barnes Jr. biography even when it was soft, not when Sam had Bucky chest to back with him.

Sam just... said a few words that he pretty sure were the ones Bucky wanted to hear in order to keep Bucky behind him. Sam let maybe twenty of the burgers at the party be burnt to a crisp. Small price to pay for that experience.

So, Sam... Sam shamelessly took advantage of it. Sam learned that Bucky was horrible at folding clothes. He couldn't sweep to save his life. Bucky didn't know how putt-putt golf worked. Sam was a little worried about why Bucky thought that was how you held a hose and Sam later apologized to Sarah about what they had done to the garden. Sam wasn't sure what Bucky was trying to do with floss, but it was incorrect.

Bucky was the most inexplicably inept person Sam had ever met. Sam didn't care, though.

Because.

Bucky.

Kept.

Ghosting him.

And now Sam was in the kitchen, setting up vegetables, holding his knife, waiting for another opportunity because Sam was weak and he wanted those strong arms around his.

"He's coming. Sam," said Sarah as Sam heard Bucky walk down the stairs.

Sam started chopping a zucchini terribly as Bucky wandered into the kitchen, his intense gaze zeroing in on Sam.

"Sam? Do you need any help there?" asked Bucky as he made a beeline to Sam.

Sam knew Sarah was quietly laughing as she exited the room. Sam knew this was probably almost as absurd as the "I don't know how to floss" excuse he pulled on Bucky yesterday. Sam was having trouble focusing on that as he felt Bucky's body heat, the press of Bucky on him, Bucky's arms atop his as Bucky settled around Sam.

"Let me help," whispered Bucky into his ear, which sent a shiver down Sam's spine, Sam wondering if Bucky felt that too.

Then... Sam watched Bucky actually be competent at a thing.

"Holy shit, you actually know how to do this," blurted Sam, because Sam's mouth wasn't with the program.

Bucky... paused.

"I was bad at everything else?" asked Bucky, a tinge of regret there.

And, well. Sam probably should come clean.

Sam placed the knife down and turned to Bucky who had not moved away in the slightest. Sam framed Bucky's face with his hands and stared Bucky straight in the eye.

"Babe. I love you. But I'm a little worried about how many things you don't know how to do that you think you know how to do. Particularly the flossing thing?" said Sam.

Bucky blinked.

"You... know how to floss," said Bucky, as he started to connect the dots, "And sweep... and flip burgers... and golf."

"I've been a member of that putt-putt golf course since I was a kid. Yes, I know how to putt-putt golf," said Sam, laughing.

"Why let me do this, then?" said Bucky, confused and quiet.

"Have you seen you?" asked Sam, offended, "Have you felt you on you - well, no, I guess you haven't. You make me short circuit. You press yourself on me and I will just forget how words work. I've done everything but the titular pottery scene to get you to do the Ghost thing."

Bucky still looked confused, but more of an "I'm happy and relieved even if I don't get the reference" confused than whatever was going on before.

"You like me close, huh?" asked Bucky as he wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled Sam even closer to him, their legs having to move to make room for one another.

Sam was really trying to remember how critical thinking worked. How words worked. But all he could think was thighs on thighs and Bucky's looking at me with come hither eyes and fuck, Bucky knows my weakness. Do I care if Bucky knows my weakness? I don't think I care if Bucky knows my weakness.

All Sam could do was pull Bucky's face down and kiss him.

"The closer, the better," Sam somehow managed to string together as he dove in for another kiss.

*****

This series is to celebrate Pride Month with some fun prompts. If you’d like me to write a drabble based on a prompt of you’re choosing, look at the prompts and send me one via ask! 🥰

#beeeee 💕#thank you so much for the prompt bee! 🥺#sambucky #the daily sambucky fluff diary #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky pride month event #sambucky touch prompt event #bucky takes care of sam #or at least 😂 he thinks he does #domestic fluff #idiots in love #sarah wilson #sambucky drabble #drabble 12 #showing the other how to do something from behind

68 notes · View notes

sakuraswordly · 9 months

Text

Danny: Why......Why are you so nice to me..? I don't deserve such kindness.....

Sonic: You deserve it.....You deserve all kindness that they care about you...

Danny: Even you know how many sins I commit?

Sonic: ..................*Nod*

Danny: I murdered my human half in my timeline....only Punch, Homura and you know about this truth. My other human half in the original timeline or the original Danny still exists inside me. And now he is free and lives with Sam in Punch's homeland timeline. I don't have a human form to hide anyone now. I can't go back to Sam....

Sonic: Even so Daniel-

Danny: I had a moment today, where I almost regretted something. For a split-second, I thought "If only I hadn't accidentally activated the newly built Fenton Ghost Portal from the inside, turning me into a human/ghost hybrid with an array of ghostly superpowers." I shouldn't have been born into this world....I shouldn't exist...I completely fail at being the hero of justice...How will I ever face Enkidu when I become like this?

*Sonic walk and hugs Danny softly*

Danny: I will lose my heart again if I continue this.....but there's nothing I can do because I'm already a psychopathic ghost, a zombie...!! I can't ask my human half to stay together or even start life over. I can't tell Sam to hold me when I am like this!

Danny: Ha...ha...heh heh...Ha Ha Ha.. Aha HA HAHAHA!!

Homura: Danny you.....

Punch: ................

Danny: It’s true, I can block out the pain! I don’t feel any pain anymore! This is what it feels like to be the fully ghost!

*Danny again rushes forward, this time cutting past the vines, and reaches the Witch. He slashes at the Witch repeatedly and begins to laugh insanely while blood splatters on his face until he finishes off the witch.*

Danny: Ha....ha....heh heh heh.....It's easy once you know how to do it...I'm sure I'll never lose this ever again....

Gilgamesh: The labyrinth is gone....but....

Amity: Danny.....

Danny: We're finished. That's what you're after, aren't you?

Héctor: Hey...Danny....you don't have to....

Danny: I don't want to be in your debt, Sonic. Now we're even, got it? Come on, let's go.

Punch: Whoa! Danny!

Danny: Ah....sorry...I'm just....a little tired....

Sonic: Daniel....we need to talk....

Danny: ..............

Homura: That witch....it was the same as the witch that Sayaka Miki once fought, Elsa Maria. I never thought that it came back to the circle. Punch. Why don't you be the one to talk to Danny?

Punch: You too Homura. Why don't you go interfere with them?

Homura: I need to be careful around Bête Noire. I can't let her kidnap Danny ever again. It's my fault that Danny becomes lost his balance of himself.

Punch: And you want me to stop Danny before he will go berserk.

Homura: Because you are the one Danny cares about the most.

Punch: Not only me......

Sonic: Daniel....You say it doesn't hurt but you're lying. I can tell just by looking at you. Just because you don't feel it, it doesn't mean it's okay to get hurt.

Danny: If I don't fight like that, I can't win. And I will lose my friends if I don't do something.

Sonic: Even if you win, it doesn't mean it's good for you. That situation let Punch and me handle this next time.

Danny: Are you trying to take other people's faults on your own again? What are you know anything about me? You don't even try to understand me at all! What are you doing here now because I look like someone else?!

*Flashback*

?????: “You just assumed I’d go along with you, no matter what! Did you ever consider what I wanted!?”

?????: "That's exactly your problem! You just jump into a situation with no idea about the outcome!"

*End of Flashback*

Sonic: I just want to redo the mistake in the past that's all and I don't want you to end up like someone I knew in the past.

Danny: Redo? I'm just a walking, talking corpse, pretending it's still alive. What kind of "good" could anyone possibly do for me now? It's stupid to even think about it. If you really want to do something for me, you should experience what I've experienced first!

Sonic: I did and I'm not lying.

Danny: Even give up being human?!

Sonic: Yes. I did give up on someone I know and said goodbye to him without regret. I am non-human, to begin with. I gave my human vessel to save Tails' girlfriend to live in this world to the fullest.

Sonic: After I saw in both Syaoran and Sakura's memories....I know I had to save Cosmo and say goodbye to a friend of mine.

Danny: I'm sorry for causing you trouble. I know how much you have been through Sonic. I just can't see you responsible and hurt yourself. I understand how much you three hurt...even Enkidu...

Sonic: You mean King Gilgamesh?

Danny: He never looked at me or pities me but I know he was worried about me......heh...I am not myself at all...you three were amazing that still keep smiling and happy like that...maybe it's because I can't care about anything anymore. I can't even remember what I thought so important, so worth protecting.

Sonic: Daniel....! Your eyes and your pact....!

Danny: The balance of hope and despair in the world cancels out to zero. Now I finally understand what that meant. Sure, I managed to save a few people, but in exchange, hatred and jealousy filled my heart. I even hurt my best partner...Whenever we pray for someone's happiness, someone else must be cursed in exchange... Turns out that's how this world works and also the hero of justice...I...really am...

*Sonic rushed to hug Danny.*

Sonic: You're not stupid! You're not a failure! I know what you're feeling now "Danny"! I felt the same way. I was once like you! You wanted to kill me right? I understand! I also once tried to kill Punch and Peter with my own power! That time I couldn't control myself my curse was far too strong! I felt like I was torn apart and don't want to live anymore! You have value! Value no one else has! I declare it here and now. In the world, I have two partners right here and now! So that value will never change, for all eternity!

Danny: Sonic...you.....

Sonic: I had enough of this.....I won't give up anymore even if you change...I will save you....even "Punch"...no...I will save King Gilgamesh....no matter how arrogant he is.

Danny: ............*Sob*...............*Sob*

"I was a weapon. As a weapon, I would be changed depending on the weapons of the next era. I am nothing more than a treasure that people will use. I'm nothing more than one of your countless treasures. In the future, you will encounter treasures more valuable than me"

Gilgamesh: ...............................It came back to full circle. So you finished with Homura then.

Punch: Amity came by and take Homura's group somewhere else, waiting for Danny to finish.

Gilgamesh: ..............I always thought I will never see the painful past again. But.....I can't avoid it, can't it...

Punch: I am included amongst those mongrels?

Gilgamesh: Heh. What do you think then?

Punch: Heh. We're waiting for Sonic to finish. We can't afford to disappear after we're interrupted like this.

Gilgamesh: .....................

Punch: Remember what I said to you?

"Mr Gilgamesh, you're strong and dependable, so you might be okay. But I'm not okay. Because I care about you. It worries me when a person I care about gets injured and faces hardships."

Punch: Sonic now felt hurt not because of Danny but because of you Mr Gilgamesh. The painful past you thought that made him say those words to Danny, he can sense how we are right now.

Gilgamesh: And I'm sure I would hurt here. Because I care about him. Like he cares about us.

Sonic: Then will you talk to me?

Punch: Fast as always. I see an eye drop too.

Gilgamesh: ...................Okay.

Punch: Out loud! Or lone your treasures?

Gilgamesh: Punch....!

Sonic: *Chuckle and Smile*

*Flashback*

Punch: Can I call you Mr Gilgamesh?

Gilgamesh: Mr?

Punch: Call "King" It's too weird and this is our first greeting meeting too so....

Gilgamesh: No, it's okay. It's been a while since anyone's address me like that. No...It's been a while since anyone called me "Mr".

Punch: Peter, what are you normally called by those close to you?

Peter: Sometimes Peter or Link. Those Kokiri named me "Link" for easy to call me "Peter".

Punch: People around me call me "Punch" but Mr Gilgamesh said that it had been a while since anyone called him.

Peter: Well.....he is a king so everyone around him needs to be formal and frightened.

Punch: He was just like me when I was little everyone around was scared of me because I'm too much clever.

Peter: I understand Punch. Let's help him then. Help him to not get lonely.

Punch: Yeah.

*End of Flashback*

Punch: Sonic.

Sonic: Huh?

Punch: Thank you for coming along with me.

Sonic: I should be the one who thanks you for taking care of me.

Gilgamesh: What are you guys doing?! I'm leaving you behind!

Sonic & Punch: We're coming!

Sonic: Take care, "Danny".....Homura......

#sakuraswordly #tsubasa of phantasia concept #Tsofph Danny Phantom #sonic crowe #punch whalen #fate gilgamesh #Tsofph Gilgamesh #tsofph season 11 #danny phantom #danny phantom au #tsubasa of phantasia 11 #tsofph Season 11(Chapter2 Shadow Path(Butterfly Effect))#dark danny

3 notes · View notes

my-friends-in-bantry · 1 year

Text

Cory McBrown: Year 2 - Chapter 3

16th of December, 2002

First day of the last week of school before Christmas break.

Sam, John, and I go into English class. We all got A’s on the book reports we did last week. Our new assignment is to write a five page essay on what our parents mean to us.

I don’t know what to do with that. My mum is the only parent who’s really been there for me. Edward is my stepdad. I suppose he counts, but I’ve never really thought of him that way. He’s basically just Mum’s live-in boyfriend to me. He is Jenny’s father, but he’s not mine. My own left when I was six so I don’t know what he means to me, or what he might have meant to me had he stayed. Bart has sort of been a half parental half sibling figure to me since my dad left. But in the context of this essay, I don’t know if he counts.

And what about Sam and John? Their parents died when they were three. Since then they’ve had numerous foster parents. I think the Conways are their sixth.

We discuss this at the lunch table. “I just don’t know what to do here.” John says. “I don’t have any memory of my parents.”

“Really?” I say.

John shakes his head. “I guess I could write about the Conways, but I don’t really think of them as parents. Actually, your Mum is more like a second parent. To me, at least.”

Sam nods. “I know how you feel. I remember our parents a little, but not much. I don’t know that I remember enough to fill an entire essay.”

Trudy comes to our table. “Are you guys talking about the assignment?”

John nods. “I don’t know what to write, because I don’t remember my parents at all.”

Trudy rubs John’s shoulders. “I know.”

“I don’t know what to write because I really only have parent to write about.” I say.

Trudy nods. “Aye, me too. Ever since my mum ran off with that guy to Argentina, I really only feel like I have one parent.”

Sam looks at everyone. “Wait a minute… What if we wrote about what we were just talking about?”

“How do you mean?” John asks.

“Write about how we don’t have conventional situations with our parents.”

“Is conventional anyone’s reality?” I say.

“‘70s sitcoms would have you believing that.” John says.

“I think you have a really good idea, Sam.” Trudy says. ‘I can even write about how my Da showed up for me when Mum left.”

Sam nods. “I could write about what little I remember about Mum and Da. I remember them being good parents. They were loving and attentive.”

“Maybe I write about how I feel about our different foster homes.” John posits.

I sit there, thinking. “What’ll you write about, Cory?” Sam asks me.

“I don’t know. My Mum is the parent I feel is always there for me, but Bart has sometimes held a parental role in my life.” I say.

“So write about that.” Sam suggests.

I nod, musing as we finish lunch.

That night, I attempt to write my essay, but nothing’s really coming to mind. Why did my parental life have to be so complicated? Mum and Dad divorce, Mum gets remarried. Dad isn’t even in the picture. Older brother takes on a parental role.

This is why I do not want to get involved in romantic relationships. I don’t want to create a situation so tangled and messed up for a kid. Maybe I’ll meet someone one day who’s willing to donate their sperm and that’ll be it. Or I’ll go to a sperm bank. I’ve always wanted to be a mum. Like, since I was four. I actually pretended to birth one of my stuffed animals. It was a girl. The animal was a moose. I still have it. If she were a real kid, she’d be nine. If I could have that without the messy relationship part, that’d be my ideal.

17th of December, 2002

Yikes! It’s cold today! It’s so cold that as I write this in my math class (aye, I know, I should be paying attention to the class), I’m literally wearing my coat over my uniform and my mittens on my hands. I’m literally just doodling words because math is so boring!

Whoops! I missed something important, I think. The teacher’s calling on people…

False alarm. They didn’t call on me. The bell rings, and I rush out. Math is just not my subject.

In the hall, Bart meets up with us. “Hey guys, I gotta do some errands today, so I can’t walk home with you. You guys okay walking home today?”

“What kind of errands?” I tease.

“Nothing to do with you.”

I nod sarcastically. “Uh huh.”

“It’s not. I’m shopping for Mum. Now shush. Are you guys okay to get home?”

“Aye, Bart. We should be fine.” Sam says.

“But it’s cold!” John says.

Sam gives him a funny look. “Do you think it’ll be any less cold if Bart walks with us?”

John doesn’t answer right away. “I guess not.”

Bart nods. “Alright. I’ll see you at home, then.”

Bart starts to leave. “Wait, but we have one more class,” I say.

Bart looks back. “I know, but I’m not gonna see you when you get out. I’ll see you later.”

He leaves. I look at Sam and John. They shrug. And off to Civics we go. It’s better than math, but it’s not my most favorite subject.

We get out of school, and the three of us bundle up tight.

John shivers. “I think you should’ve called your Mum to come get us.”

“She’s working.” I say. ‘She had an evening class.”

“Speaking of which, do you want to go home or to the Health Center?” Sam asks.

I think for a moment as we walk. “Well… Home has hot chocolate.”

Sam nods. “Good choice.”

“Besides, I’m not in the mood for doing yoga today. I’d rather curl up with some hot chocolate and A Very Merry Pooh Year.”

John perks up. “Ooh! I love that movie!”

“Then let’s get home and watch it.” I say.

We continue to walk through town near our neighborhood, and when we’re a few minutes from home, something- rather someone catches my eye. A boy of about 14, maybe, leaning against the outside of a liquor store across the street. He looks a little worse for wear. His clothes are dark and disheveled. He looks kind of thin, too, and his dark hair is messy and in his eyes. He’s struggling to keep warm in the baggy coat he’s wearing. I see him light up what looks like a joint, which is confirmed when I catch a whiff of it in the cold, December air. Despite all this, there’s something that makes me want to go over to him. He looks like he needs help.

“You see that boy over there?” I say to Sam and John.

Sam looks at him. “Aye, I do. I think we should keep walking.”

“I want to go see if he’s alright.” I say.

“Cory, when Brienna said to keep an open mind about relationships, I don’t think she meant a stoner on the street.” Sam argues.

“Sam, he can’t be more than 14. He’s a kid. What kid who isn’t troubled would be on the street smoking weed?”

“None, you’re right. But it’s not something you should get involved in.” Sam still tries to talk me out of it. “Right, John?”

“What if he’s packing heat?” John says.

Sam looks at him. “You’ve been watching too many cop shows.”

“Okay, maybe not that. But he could have a knife. This could be dangerous.” John reasons.

I sigh. “I think you’re both wrong. I’m going over there.”

Sam and John try to protest, but I’m already walking across the street. I approach the boy, slowly and cautiously, cause I don’t know how he’s gonna react.

He’s in the middle of a drag when I reach him. “Hi.” I say. “Are you okay?”

He glares at me, distrusting. “What do you care?” he says, taking another drag.

I decide to be kind to him anyway. “Because I care about people, especially kids. You look like you could use some help, so I want to help you.”

Now he looks confused, still frowning, but softened from a glare. I notice his maple brown eyes, which look sad, but still sparkle, especially in the Christmas lights. “Why?” he asks. “You don’t even know me.”

I smile at him. “I could. What’s your name?”

He takes another puff of the joint. I think I made him uncomfortable. “I don’t want to tell you my name.”

I try to make him feel more at ease. “I don’t have to tell you my real name if you’re more comfortable that way.” I say. I try to think of an alternative, then say: “Some people call me Brownie.”

He continues to frown in confusion. He looks like he’s thinking deeply, like I’m the first person who’s ever been kind to him. “Why?” he asks.

I shrug. “For fun.” Actually, no one’s ever called me that before. I just made it up. His eyes made me think of it. I was thinking about maple syrup, which is sweet, and so are brownies. My name is McBrown.

He stares at me for a moment. It seems like he’s looking me over. As he does, my stomach flutters. Was that-? Was that what I think it was? My heart feels funny, too, and I feel a wave of heat go up my neck. Is this what blushing feels like?

Finally, he smiles. “I like you… Brownie. You’re cute.”

I smile. He called me cute! Wait- why do I care?

He continues, ignoring his joint. “My last name is Smith, so I guess you can call me Smithy.”

I giggle, and he smiles even bigger. He has a wonderful smile, wide and genuine. There’s that flutter again. What is happening to me? Is this what Sam meant? We lock eyes for a moment, and I feel very nervous all of a sudden. My heart skips a beat and my hands get clammy in my mittens. “So you said you wanted to help me? How?” he asks.

I forgot I had said that. It’s like I looked at his eyes and my brain short-circuited. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you love, and care.”

Uh oh. That made him frown. I may have gone too far. “What does that mean?”

Maybe he just doesn’t know what it’s like to be cared for. I put my hand on his shoulder, and my heart flutters. He looks at my hand. He looks scared. “Emotional love. Like, friendship. I’m saying I want to be your friend.” I realize I sort of flubbed what I probably should’ve said. But I’m suddenly very nervous.

He looks at my hand for a moment but then brushes it away. “What makes you think I need that?” he still looks scared.

I try to keep smiling, even though I feel like things are getting tense. “Well, I’m very good at sensing people’s energy. You have a very sweet, but pained energy.”

His shoulders tighten. “Okay, first of all, I don’t believe in that energy crap. And secondly, you’re treading on ground that’s none of your business.”

He starts to walk away, taking another drag. My heart sinks. For some reason, I put my hand on his shoulder again, trying to stop him from leaving. “But I want to help you.” I say.

He turns around. “I don’t want your help. Leave me alone!” He pushes my hand away, a little firmer, and Sam and John come up and get between me and him.

“Come on. Let’s just go home.” Sam says.

The boy, Smithy, and I just stare at each other for a moment. I feel like I’m gonna cry. I know I shouldn’t let it, but it kind of hurt when he pushed me away.

Except he looks like he wants to cry, too. I hesitate, but follow Sam and John back across the road. Looking back, he’s still watching us, and I can see the tears roll down his face. Before we round the corner, I see him stare at his joint for a moment, then back at me, and then he takes another long drag.

I actually cry as we round the corner. “Are you okay?” Sam asks me.

I try to shake off my tears. “Aye, I’m fine.” It doesn’t work. They still fall.

Sam doesn’t say anything else until we get home. While John makes hot chocolate, Sam talks to me. “What did he say to you, and do I need to kick his ass?”

I lean against my hand, resting my elbow on the couch. “Nothing… I mean nothing that deserves an ass-kicking.”

“I know you wanted to help him, but sometimes there are people you can’t help… Or, shouldn’t if you’re only 13 and have no training,” Sam continues.

I’m silent for a moment. Then I look at her. “I guess you’re right.”

Sam pats me on the arm. “I love you for wanting to help people in need, though.”

I nod silently as Sam gets up to put the movie in. I’m quiet for the rest of the movie. Somewhere between jingely-bells and Tigger hiding under Rabbit’s bed, Bart comes home with Mary. I tried to be talkative, but I wasn’t feeling like it, and Bart could tell.

After the movie, he tells us. “Mum told me to make you dinner cause she’s gonna be a little late.”

I nod. “Are you okay?” Bart asks me.

I look at him. “Aye, I’m fine.”

Sam looks at him, too. “She saw this kid on the street outside a liquor store, smoking a joint, and tried to help him, and he pushed her away.”

Bart raises his eyebrows. “He pushed you?”

“He pushed my hand off his shoulder. He didn’t push me.” I say.

Bart gets up and goes to the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go tell him off.” Bart says.

“You’re going to what?” I say. “Bart, no!”

“Cory, people don’t get to push you around without answering to me.” Bart leaves.

Mary follows him. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything he’ll regret.”

I slump in my chair.

#ireland #bantry #cory mcbrown #my friends in bantry #my writing #writer things #writers #writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #coming of age #2002 #2000s nostalgia #early 2000s #2000s

0 notes

hekate1308 · 1 year

Text

Leaves That Before The Wild Hurricane Fly, A Destiel Advent Calendar, December 6

Masterpost

Read it on AO3

He was silent for a moment – too surprised to say anything, to be honest – then asked, “What?”

Dean shook his head. “I could have worded this better. But like I said – in many ways, we live a life apart from what most would refer to as normal people. We have our own shops, our own newspapers – hell, we even try to avoid going to the police most of the time because we know what to expect. The problem is, how are we supposed to get it out there that we are just like anyone else when it comes down to it – “

Castiel couldn’t help it; he glanced around. Like anyone else? He had never met someone like Dean before, and he wasn’t talking about the obvious signs – when he turned his head, he could tell that his ears were more pointed than the average human’s as well, so it wasn’t just his eyes – but he was rather certain no one could pass Dean Winchester on the street and just ignore him.

“But people won’t listen. No offense. It’s just, they focus on the differences, and that’s it. And in the end, that’s why most of us stay away – of course there’s always exceptions, people who just don’t like humans or who’d rather munch on them – sorry man –“ Castiel had started coughing because this had come a little too unexpectedly – “Alright let’s call them bad apples. I can’t pretend they don’t exist. But most of us think that this separation is not doing anyone any favours – we all have to live in this country together, or at least most of us, whether we like it or not. You’d be surprised how many members of minority groups choose to live in The Quarter, or other cities’ equivalent to it.”

Castiel could easily imagine it. Since there were so many creatures, one must be rather free to live one’s own life, without anyone starring or being weirded out by it. He wondered what it felt like, not being judged or reprimanded for being strange constantly. He supposed if everyone was a little queer…

“But still – we would very much enjoy if we could get our story out there, and I think this could be a way to do it. I’d have to talk with the others, of course – Sam, Crowley, Charlie, Benny and Andrea maybe – the usual bunch.”

The usual bunch. But of course someone like Dean would have a close group of friends, plus his brother.

“So what do you think?”

He didn’t know what to think. But in truth, that wasn’t the question – the question was whether he had any other options; and the answer to that was no.

And, as a voice that he really hadn’t even known lived inside his head pointed out, it would mean spending more time with Dean. Still, he couldn’t just – “It’s a very generous offer, but I don’t think I can simply –“

“Nonsense, like I said, it goes both ways.”

Both ways. Like he’d started before, he didn’t know much about those ways, or the creatures who trod them. All of that was beyond him. They had their own customs, their own religion in some cases, their own opinions. And if he did what Dean proposed, he would have to understand all of them, or at least a significant portion of all of this.

Would he be able to do it? And di he even want to?

The answer to the second question was much too easy – and sadly, it had little to do with wanting to help creatures and witches get along with humans.

He would have to curb his attraction to Dean Winchester and try to see it all as a work assignment, which was something else he had never excelled at; but it was certainly a worth while cause, and if he added the chance that he might keep his job…

Thankfully, Dean didn’t push, rather recognizing that this was something he had to carefully consider before giving him a definitive answer. “How about we both sleep on it and make our decision then?”

He considered it best to nod and they finished their meal.

Afterwards, Dean asked if he wanted to watch a movie, and despite never having been too fond of them, he found himself agreeing.

Even if his eyes started to fall shut about half an hour into Raiders of The Lost Arc.

It had been a long day.

He was feeling rather relaxed and comfortable when someone chuckled and shook his shoulder. “Come on, man. Looks like you’re knackered.”

He opened his eyes and found himself very close to Dean. Had he been leaning on him?

“I –“

“Just get to bed” he laughed. “Big day tomorrow.”

He could say that again, Castiel though as he repaired to the guest room.

#my writings #spn #destiel #advent calendar #dean winchester #castiel

1 note · View note

mummybear · 3 years

Text

Finally, I’ve Found You.

Words: 4938

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, ABO, Protective Sam, Possessive Dean, Claiming, Scenting, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Control, Hair Pulling, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, knotting....Think that’s it :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Bingo Square: @spnkinkbingo - Free Space - ABO Soul Mates

Summary: When your protective Alpha best friend takes you to meet his family, things don’t go quite to plan. You end up finding something, or someone, you’ve been looking for your whole life.

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr Thank you again babe! :D

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Being an Omega in this part of the world was nothing short of a nightmare - Omegas were treated as slaves and fuck toys for Alphas. When your parents had died, you were even more scared than ever before. Being left alone in this world was terrifying, you hadn’t told anyone, not until you’d met Sam Winchester. He was an Alpha through and through,” - at least, that’s what he let the outside world believe. To you he was your best friend, and your protector. He was a complete sweetheart, even when you knew it was hard for him not to give into his nature.

The most that he ever did was snap at you, but that was only when his rut hit particularly hard or your heat or his rut started before either of you were ready. Even then though, he would lock himself away, or he would lock you away and keep you safe, until those days passed. You wanted to want Sam in that way, and you knew he felt the same, but neither of you had ever been able to bring yourselves to do anything.

There were times you’d talked about it at length; the possibility of you being his, but you’d always come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t right, for either of you, and it wouldn’t be fair. You were worried though, because if Sam wasn’t supposed to be yours, then who was? And were they even half as sweet, hot and caring as your best friend? You only knew what you’d been told by your other Omega friends, once you found your mate, you would just know.

“You ready to go?” Sam asks as he walks into your room, with a big excited grin on his face.

“Sam, are you sure about this?” you sigh as you finish zipping up your suitcase for the weekend.

“Y/N, trust me! My family are going to love you.”

“You know I trust you, more than anyone on the planet, but I don’t know if It’s such a good idea. I’m not exactly special, I’m just like any other Omega,” you sigh as he takes the suitcase from your grip, and you hear him huff quietly.

“I’ve told you before, that isn’t how any of my family see it. Besides, you’re my best friend, they know how much you’ve been there for me. Even if you are a giant pain my ass. Now come on, stop complaining,” he winks at you over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow him out of the door.

“Fine, but you better not leave me on my own,” you huff out, locking the door behind you.

Luckily the drive doesn’t take as long as you thought it might, and all too soon you’re pulling up to a gorgeous home, with perfectly kept lawn and two classic cars in the driveway. You wring your hands in your lap, feeling the nerves creeping up on you even more than you’d expected. You can feel the need to be sick pressing against the back of your throat. Sam must notice because seconds later you feel a big hand on top of both of yours, and you feel a slight sense of calm start to settle over you.

“Sam, I told you not to use those Alpha powers of yours on me,” you laugh slightly, feeling grateful that he doesn’t always listen to you.

“Y/N, you’re shaking and you’re breathing too hard. I don’t want you passing out on me, just breathe,” he smiles gently, the complete picture of calm, as always.

It takes a few moments, but you finally manage to get your breathing under control, and your heart stops racing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” you swallow thickly, climbing out of the car and following Sam as he pulls your suitcases out.

Sam looks you over and frowns, “now you mention it, I’ve never seen you like this. Did we work out the days wrong? Is your heat due or something?”

You think on it for a moment as Sam leads you to his parents house, and over to the front door.

“I, uh, no. I only had one a two weeks ago. You know I only have one a month, it can’t be that.”

Before Sam can respond the door is pulled open, and a grinning couple fill the doorway.

“Sam! It’s great to see you son.” The older man steps forward and embraces Sam in a tight hug, that Sam returns with a big grin. Before turning to the older woman and doing the same. It’s clear to see they’re his mom and dad. The family resemblance is beyond obvious.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N this is my mom and dad, Mary and John Winchester,” Sam introduces fondly.

“Great to finally meet you, Y/N! Sam has told us all about you,” John smiles warmly, giving you a quick hug which you return nervously.

“We really have heard so much about you, thank you so much for looking after our baby,” Mary grins, and pulls you into another hug.

“Now, come on inside you two,” Mary tells you both, moving aside so you can follow Sam into the house.

“Sammy!” You hear from down the hall, and you follow Sam further into the house, watching as Sam is embraced by a slightly shorter man with sandy hair. You smile at the display of affection. it’s so nice to see Sam surrounded by family, he’d always spoken about them, and you’re guessing this must be the brother he’d told you countless stories about, Dean.

Suddenly Dean looks up and his eyes lock with yours over Sam’s shoulder, you feel like a rug has been pulled from under your feet and you stumble back a little. Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, and you swallow thickly around the lump that’s lodged in your throat. You bite your lip as his nostrils flair and feel yours do the same as his scent hits you, and it’s like you can see his eyes darken before you.

Your words are stuck in your throat, until Mary comes to your side and wraps her arms around you, “Y/N? Are you feeling okay, sweetie. Do you need to sit down?”

Her voice sounds a little distant, like you have cotton wool lodged in your ears, but you hear her faintly all the same.

“Yes, please. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” you all but whisper, tearing your gaze away from Dean, as Sam pulls away from him to come and stand by your side.

Mary and Sam lead you into the living room and help you get settled on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Mary checks again, as she sends Sam away to help his father outside with the grill.

“Y-Yeah, I think so. I think I just need a minute, long drive,” you explain as you try and reassure her, and she nods in understanding.

“Okay honey, if you need anything we’ll just be outside okay?”

“Thank you, Mrs Winchester,” you sigh, leaning back against the soft sofa, and you let your eyes close for a moment. You feel her squeeze your hand and the sofa dips as she steps away.

You suck in a deep breath and your eyes snap open, as an unusual but tantalising mix of scents fill your nose. It’s like leather, spice, oil and something you don’t quite recognise. Then your gaze falls on the door you’d come through earlier, and on him.

You sit a little straighter and shift awkwardly in your seat.

“Hi, you must be, Dean. I’m Y/N,” you practically whisper as he walks further into the room.

He looks you up and down and licks his lips, his gaze heated, like he can see through your clothes and it makes you shiver.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” his voice is almost a growl as he talks, and he takes the seat right next to you, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You take his hand and your eyes lock with his, a complete calmness settles over you and you can feel yourself leaning into him. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he repositions his hand, so that his fingers are moving between yours, intertwining your hand with his own.

“Alpha,” you whimper leaning in closer, following his lead, until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“Omega,” he practically growls, scooting his body closer to you and breathing deeply, as his free arm curls around your waist tightly, almost possessively.

“There’s something about you… I don’t understand. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” you mutter, almost disbelieving, like if you say it too loud he’ll disappear.

“Neither have I, but I can smell it. I know you’re mine.”

He says it with such finality, and you want to believe him because, fuck, he’s perfect. Gorgeous, strong, great family. But beyond that you don’t know anything about him, you’ve literally just met, but something tells you that you can trust him, that he’s right, and you are his and he’s yours.

“B-But we’ve just met, Dean,” you stutter, as the hand gripping your waist slips just beneath your t-shirt and brushes your skin.

“Don’t care. You’re mine, I know you are. I can feel it, I can smell it, and I know you can too,” he growls as your free hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.

“I can feel it, in every bone in my body, Dean. But we can’t,” you protest weakly, trying to pull away, but he holds your body tight against his.

He pulls back and looks at your face, “Is it Sam?” he huffs, and you can hear the unease in his voice, you can tell he’s forcing down a possessive growl.

“Why would it be anything to do with Sam? He’s my best friend, and that’s it. We both feel the same,” you sigh as he pulls away further, and you groan as your stomach rolls painfully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ll let you rest, just pretend this never happened, okay?” he grits out, voice shaking as he backs away slowly.

“No, Dean, don’t. I didn’t mean you had to go!” you call after him, but before you can get up he’s already left, and you hear the back door slam closed.

Dinner had been really great, full of great conversation and stories of Sam and Dean when they were younger, not to mention the amazing food. It only made you more confused as to why Sam never cooked more often at home. But after ten minutes, something had changed with Dean, and he’d gone to eat in his room, claiming that he had to make a call for work.

You’re all now sitting in the living room, while Mary shows you photos of Sam and Dean when they were babies. When suddenly a wave of pain hits you from nowhere, and you grip Sam’s arm tightly.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, and he looks really worried as he takes you in.

“No. Something’s wrong,” you whimper, wiping at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Sam carefully helps you to your feet and you cling onto him tightly.

“Mine.” Comes a growl from the doorway, snapping everyone's attention away from you and towards Dean.

“Dean? What the hell do you mean ‘Mine’?” Sam questions defensively, putting himself between you and his brother, pushing your body behind him.

“Alpha,” you whine, reaching for Dean, and Sam has to hold you tighter against his side, so you don’t fall to the floor.

Everyone seems to be looking between you and Dean, before John groans quietly, “Fuck, I shoulda noticed earlier. Sammy you need to let her go, son,” he tells his youngest son gently, as he walks towards you and Sam.

Sam looks at his father as though he’s gone mad and holds you tighter.

“No way, clearly Dean’s lost his damn mind, he’s not going anywhere near her. I’ve kept her safe for years, but I didn’t think I’d have to protect her from my own family.”

Your eyes lock with Dean’s and you whimper as he starts to walk towards you, feeling the slick gathering between your thighs.

“Sam. Listen to me, Dean must be her mate. You said yourself that Y/N isn’t due a heat, right?” John asks calmly, stepping between his boys.

“Not for another two weeks, why? What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Sam exclaims with disbelief.

“Well, your brother has literally just had his rut. So by rights, he was safe, unless…” John trails off, maybe hoping Sam is understanding.

“Sam, please. I need him,” you moan pathetically, as John growls at his eldest son warning him to step back, in an effort to calm the situation down.

“It must be another heat, Y/N, it’s the only explanation. You’re not thinking clearly-” you unintentionally cut Sam off, when a scream rips through your throat and you double over in pain, with Sam’s arms the only thing stopping you from hitting the floor.

Dean whimpers and looks around his father, locking eyes with his brother, looking like a scared puppy.

“Sammy, please. Let me help her,” Dean groans, running his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“No. I’m the one who looks after her, not you,” Sam growls defensively.

You’re starting to lose consciousness, and your eyes are heavy, sweat dripping from your forehead. You’ve never felt anything this intense in your entire life. Suddenly a smaller pair of arms wrap around you and help you sit back on the sofa, you look up at Mary, and she’s barely in focus.

“Honey, I need you to focus, look at me okay.”

“Can’t, Mary. I’m so tired,” you slur, feeling the sofa dip the other side of you.

“Doll, listen to me, you can’t fall asleep, you’re burning up.” Comes John’s deep voice from your other side, and you lean into him when he presses a cool rag against your forehead.

“‘mega, tell me what you need, let me help,” Dean whispers, carefully cupping your cheeks in his big warm hands. You force your eyes open, and you can see the pain in his eyes, and the tick in his jaw as though he’s clenching his teeth.

“Alpha, please. Need you, don’t go,” you beg desperately, reaching out and grabbing his shirt in your fists. Dean’s hands cover yours and he tries to hush you gently, and you notice that you’re both alone in the room now. Your legs are still like jelly, so when you try and stand you practically collapse into Dean’s arms.

You nuzzle at his neck and purr as his scent surrounds you, feeling your vision clear slightly as your lips press against his skin.

“Not here,” Dean growls, his voice deep, husky and thick with need as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style, putting a stop to your attempt to push his shirt from his shoulders.

You clench your thighs together as another wave of arousal grips you, and you feel Dean’s fingers tighten against your body as he carries you up the stairs. When you reach the second door on the left, Dean walks inside and then kicks the door closed behind him. He heads over to the large bed and lays you down carefully, before sitting down beside you, and brushing the sweat soaked hair away from your face. The familiar feeling of your heat coursing through your body is even stronger than it’s ever been before, and you can feel yourself curling around Dean as soon as he lays down beside you.

“It hurts, Dean,” you whimper, hooking one of your legs over his body as he wraps his arms around you and you find yourself rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to find some kind of release.

“Shh, sweetheart, just breathe. You’re makin’ it real hard to be a gentleman right now,” his voice is practically a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, “I don’t want a gentleman, I want my Alpha. I want you.”

Dean’s arms tighten around you and you feel the growl in his throat right before you hear it, “Fuck you smell good ‘mega. I could smell you as soon as you walked through that door. Haven't stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on you.”

“I don’t understand how this all happened so fast, but I know you’re my Alpha, I can feel it,” you whisper as he cups your cheek and you feel relief flood your body when he pulls you into a kiss.

The kiss starts off careful and slow but quickly becomes more passionate, he gently pushes your hands back against the mattress, and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from touching him.

“Stay there, baby, let your Alpha make it better,” he whispers against your lips between intense kisses that seem to be turning your body to liquid. Dean’s hands are exploring every inch of you, his touch is firm and a little rough, but it’s just what you need right now. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when he starts tugging at your clothes.

When he pulls away from your lips to look into your eyes, you gasp for breath, quickly realising only your panties remain. Dean hums in approval, cupping your breasts in his big hands and he gently flicks over your nipples with his thumbs, biting his lip as he watches your face for a reaction. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel more of him.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whine needily as Dean runs his fingers over your soaked panties.

Dean chuckles deeply, breath hot against your soft skin, and you shiver as he nips at your neck, “you want me to bite down just here,” he nips a little harder for emphasis, and you can’t help but moan as you struggle to nod. You arch your hips and moan his name as he pushes your panties aside, and he eases two thick calloused fingers inside your soaked entrance, slowly edging back and forth until they’re fully inside you.

“Mmm, of course you do, my needy little Omega. You want me to claim what’s mine? Want me to fuck you until you can’t see straight, and you’re coming all over my knot?” You can tell his instincts are taking over, his voice is deeper, and his touch is almost bruising, but in the best way.

Dean rips your panties away from your body with his free hand. You barely even feel the sting of them ripping, only the slight pressure on your clit as he pulls them up and off of you. Then he leans over you, and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, pressing his free hand to your stomach so everything intensifies as he picks up a steady pace. Then his hand shifts and his thumb presses against your clit, your hands immediately reach out, and you grab hold of the first thing you can. Your nails dig into his biceps as you hold on tight, feeling the muscle bulge and relax as he pushes towards release, the look in his eyes makes you want to give in to whatever he says.

There's just something about him being fully clothed and fully in control, while you’re naked and at his mercy that makes the Omega in you purr appreciatively.

Your stomach tightens and your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pushes you towards your first orgasm. You’re breathing heavy and writhing beneath him when suddenly he pulls his fingers free, and your body slumps against the bed, with a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You whimper as you look up at him, wishing you felt a little less pathetic, because you would kick his ass if he was one of the Beta’s you’d slept with before. But this is an Alpha - your Alpha.

Dean chuckles, leaning back as he starts to pull off his clothes, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my beautiful Omega, don’t make all of those pretty little noises right now. I promise I’ll make it better. But the first time you come for me I want it to be with my cock inside you, stretching out this tight little cunt.” You moan at his filthy words as he throws his shirt across the room, he’s perfect, and you can’t stop staring, unable to believe how lucky you are.

“Please, Alpha. I need to come so bad, wanna feel your knot.” The desperation in your voice is clear as you cling to the sweat soaked duvet under you.

His eyes lock with yours as a filthy and cocky smirk curls at his lips. You watch with bated breath as he pulls off his jeans and boxers, and his thick cock is freed from its confines.

“Hmm, am I your first Alpha, sweetheart? Your only Alpha? Is this the first knot you’re gonna take in that perfect little pussy?” Dean sounds far too pleased with himself as he asks those questions, but in the moment they only make you squirm more.

He strokes his cock slowly in one hand as he pushes his other hand between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit torturously slow. You don’t want to stop looking at him, but your entire body is shaking with need. You clench your thighs around his hand, trying your best to stave off your orgasm.

“Dean, please. I can’t hold it,” you whine desperately.

To your relief his hand falls away, and you suck in a breath, feeling the heat of his body pressed against you forces you to open your eyes.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, voice husky and thick with need, and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your wet entrance.

You can feel his thighs quivering against your own, it’s pretty obvious he’s holding himself back. You meet his eyes and swallow hard, knowing that you couldn’t go back now, even if you wanted to. You need him, you can feel it deep down.

“Don’t you want me on my hands and knees, Alpha?” you ask, voice breathy, and you shiver feeling his fingers digging into your thighs.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you here, ‘mega, don’t push me,” his voice has lowered to a growl, and you know you’re poking the bear, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, you need him to lose control.

You slowly drag your hand down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch, and you hear him suck in a breath when your hand wraps around his thick length.

“I can take it, Alpha, want you to fuck me like you mean it.” Dean grunts as your hand moves over him and you turn your head to the side, showing him your perfectly clear skin, free of any scars and stroke your fingers down the side.

“When you claim me, right here-” you don’t get time to finish your sentence, because Dean has pulled out of your grip and his rough hands flip you over and force you on your stomach.

You barely have time to suck in a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hips. Dean spreads your legs and the head of his wide cock presses inside you slowly, but then his hips snap forward, and you scream in pleasure as you lose your balance. Your fingers curl around your pillow and your back arches painfully, as he pulls out almost all of the way and snaps his hips forward again. The grip on your hips tightens, to the point you’re sure there will be bruises left behind.

“How’s that, my needy little Omega?” he growls, wrapping his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back harshly. You can’t speak, you can hardly breathe.

“Ah fuck! Dean, please let me come!” you scream feeling your pussy spasm around his cock when he picks up a steady rhythm, deep and slow, and so hard you feel like your body is going to snap in half.

“Wait. I decide where I claim you, is that fucking clear?” he growls snapping his hips forward roughly.

“Fuck! Yes. Whatever you want, Alpha,” you whine obediently, impossibly close to the edge of a mind shattering orgasm. But even your body is refusing to disobey your Alpha.

“Mmm, good girl. C’mere,” he pants, tugging you back against him by your hair and nuzzling your neck. You don’t struggle, in fact, you find yourself relaxing against him.

“You wanna come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, Dean, I need it,” you whine breathlessly, feeling his free hand roam your body slowly, as he cock continues to thrust into you teasingly.

“Then play with your clit while I fuck you. I wanna watch you fall apart, my desperate little ‘mega.”

The sheets are soaked beneath you both, his rut and your heat are in full effect now, and you know you’d do anything he asked.

You drop your shaking hand between your legs and start to rub circles into your clit, feeling your pussy clamp down around his throbbing cock. You cry out when Dean starts to pick up his pace, his thrusts are precise, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot.

“Ah! Alpha, right there!” you practically scream as he roughly tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck and you feel his teeth gently tug at your skin.

The threat of him claiming you is enough to send you hurtling into the most powerful orgasm of your life. Your body shakes in his arms as he continues to fuck into you, your tight wet heat gripping him like a vice. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Dean’s wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him because you’ve gone limp in his arms.

“So sexy when you come ‘mega, such a perfect little pussy. You want it, baby girl? You want me to make you mine?” he grits out breathlessly. Your head is swimming as you feel another orgasm burning in your stomach, but his words are enough to make you moan in agreement. Dean chuckles, pushing the sweat soaked hair over one of your shoulders, “c’mon, ‘mega, need to hear you say it.”

You tilt your head to the side again and feel his tongue against your skin, “take me, claim me, Alpha. Wanna be yours.”

“Oh fuck,” he moans sucking hard at your neck, “gonna make me come ‘mega, gonna fill you up,” his voice is a broken rasp as he fucks up into you, his pace brutal.

He lets out an animalistic growl when his own release finally hits, and sinks his teeth into your neck, then you feel his knot swell inside you. His knot catches against your entrance as his cock pulses inside you, pulling another scream from you as your second orgasm shoots through your entire body. Gasping, you both crash down onto the mattress, with Dean’s body wrapped around you.

Your bodies shake against one another as Dean pulls his teeth carefully from your neck, and licks softly at his claim mark. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you take a deep shaky breath, as a feeling of being complete finally settles over you.

Dean presses kisses along your shoulder and brushes his fingers through your damp hair.

“Remind me to buy Sammy a house for bringing you to dinner,” Dean chuckles, his voice hoarse from your time together.

You giggle and lace your fingers with his, his hand feels so big against yours but it feels right.

“Just a house, huh?” you tease playfully.

He presses a soft kiss to your claim mark and he drags his teeth over your ear lobe, “mmm you’re right, maybe a mansion,” he whispers, every word punctuated with a soft kiss and roaming hands. You can’t help but be a little nervous, this is all so sudden. What if he changes his mind about you?

His cock slips free suddenly as his knot retracts, and he turns you in his arms, so that you’re facing him. The soft smile on his face is completely disarming, and you can’t help but smile back.

“I can practically hear you thinkin’, ‘mega. I promise we’re gonna figure all of this out.”

You sigh softly and lean in, kissing him for the first time in what feels like forever. When you pull away his intense green eyes meet yours.

“It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust you, Dean. You and me, it just feels right,” you tell him, and the emotion you’re feeling causes your voice to catch a little.

“That’s because it is. So, what do you say we get ourselves ready and go down to see everyone?, I think we have a little explaining to do, my beautiful Omega,” he whispers tenderly, cupping your cheek and presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Probably a good idea, Alpha,” you agree, feeling a blush come to your cheeks as your fingers graze over the claim mark on your neck. You weren’t expecting your life to change so drastically in a day, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

All Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @simsadventures @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp

Dean/Jensen Tags: @hobby27 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @spnfanfic-reblogs @holylulusworld @mrswhozeewhatsis @sonofabringmesomepie @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @hhiggs @pisces-cutie @trina44sb @heartsaved @matsumama @adoptdontshoppets @beth-winchester21 @doctor-hp-mcu @mrspeacem1nusone @fanddoms4love @nihilismworld@noobwuvsj2 @lyarr24 @hearteyes-j2 @tatted-trina6 @deandreamernp @thoughts-and-funnies @weepingwillowphoenix

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @supermoonpanda @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester-blog1 @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @cas-backwards-tie @winecatsandpizza @firefly-in-darkness

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester abo #supernatural #Supernatural smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #Smut #dean smut #abo #abo soulmate

543 notes · View notes

qyllenhaal · 3 years

Text

Muse

Pairing: Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve’s an artist, and you’re secretly his muse. 3rd POV. WC: 3.5k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, MDNI), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. Fluff. Friends to lover.

Steve knew it was a risk to quit his job and focus full-time on being an artist. His boss laughed in his face when he turned in his letter of resignation and asked Steve how much he thought his "little paintings" were going to make him. Steve didn't just face this scrutiny from his boss, but his friends too albeit not as harsh. Many of the people in his life didn't understand his passion for something that might leave him struggling, but Y/n was always there encouraging him.

"You may struggle for a little bit, but I think it's great Steve! Only one day into your new life as an artist and you already seem happier!"

Steve has known Y/n for almost a decade. They met under odd circumstances that some would consider a meet cute. She's still so sweet and bubbly just like she was the day he met her. It wasn't hard for him to fall head-over-heels for her. She always has a kind word and an open ear even during times of distress.

Sometimes he blushes when she gives him a compliment. She claims to not know anything about art, but every time he shows her something new she always has something stark to say that sticks with him. Maybe it's because it's coming from her.

His time spent alone in his studio is sacred. He converted a room in his apartment into a makeshift studio and he finds so much solace in those four walls. He has wanted to dabble in painting live subjects, maybe even a nude model or too, but he found himself getting real shy about it. He'd love to have someone to pose and to capture the way the light perfectly hits their face. That someone he imagined was often Y/n.

He was shocked when she allowed him to make her his subject. It started with him asking to paint a few photos of her she had lying around for "practice." Y/n was more than happy to help her friend Steve, only under the condition that he show her the final product. Steve found no problem in showing off the pastoral setting paintings he created, but it was much more harder to show off paintings of the person he thinks is the most beautiful person in the world.

Just like he couldn't muster up the confidence to ask anyone else to be his model, Steve could never ask Y/n to model for him in person. He found himself becoming too shy whenever the question was on the tip of his tongue. It would be much better if he were here in person with him, but he opted for photos of her clipped to his easel for reference. He'd finish a painting in one day and send her a photo via text of the finished product.

“I really look like that? It's amazing Steve!”

But eventually he ran out of photos. He tried to reuse some old ways and paint in a different style, or play with the colors, but it was beginning to become stale. Steve needed something new, but he didn't want to let go of Y/n as his subject.

"So you need new pictures?"

"Yeah — it's fine if you don't have any more," he tries to play it off as if he doesn't have 10 canvases in his studio of paintings of her that he hasn't shown her.

"We could take some more. Do you still have that digital camera you got a few Christmas' ago?"

"No. I think it got lost when I moved."

"Oh. Well I think Sam has a camera we can borrow. It's one of those fancy ones, right?"

Steve agreed to ask Sam to borrow his camera, but he honestly wishes that he had just bought his own. The amount of teasing he had to endure when he explained to Sam exactly why he needed the camera made his skin heat up. He couldn't stop his cheeks from becoming rosy when Sam asked when is he finally going to tell Y/n how he feels about her. Steve doesn't want to ruin what they have just in case Y/n rejects him. He'd much rather wallow in his school boy crush than put a strain on their friendship.

"How do you want me to pose?"

Y/n sat on the lone couch in Steve's studio room. It wasn't the best quality but it was still useful.

The curtains were drawn to shield the sun that was nearly set. The lighting in the room was dim save for the soft light coming from a small lamp pointed at her. It casted a warm, yellowish light onto her skin. She wore a white dress and kicked her shoes off at the front door.

"Whatever comes natural to you," his voice is weak as he responds. The atmosphere of the room is slightly romantic and he can't shake his nerves. Everything feels extremely intimate.

Y/n is almost as nervous as Steve. She's never modeled for someone and it feels a little bit awkward. She's always comfortable around Steve, but she can't help but get a little nervous when she sees Steve with the camera in his hands.

"You look perfect like that," he compliments the half-asses pose she's doing before snapping the first photo. He looks at the preview before the camera's screen could go dark.

"Let me see." He shows her and she just nods her head, "let me adjust myself," she whispers.

Y/n unbuttons the first two buttons of her dress, exposing more of her chest that only gives a glimpse of her breast. Steve pretended to not notice it as he took another picture of her. Once again Y/n asked to see the photo and looked a little more satisfied with it this time.

"Do you think that I could — nevermind."

"What is it Y/n?" He asks with a soft laugh that makes her want to melt.

"Do you think I could unbutton my dress all the way?" Her voice faltered as she asked. She watched Steve's reaction intently. She hopes the question doesn't make him uncomfortable. "It's just that I was looking up some ideas online so I could prepare and I saw this really pretty picture of this model and she was semi-nude but it was really pretty so I wanted to ask if we could try it," she explained; or perhaps over-explained.

Steve was completely dumbfounded. If Y/n couldn't see it in his dropped jaw, then she can see it in the way he just freezes.

"It's okay if that's too much."

"No! No, it's okay."

Y/n gave him a half smile before she began to unbutton the front of her dress. Steve tried to look away, but how could he not? The more she revealed herself, the easier it was for him to see the swell of her breast. Her skin looks so soft and he feels compelled to reach out and caress her bare skin. But he keeps his hands to himself.

"Is this too much?" The puffy sleeves of her dress were off of her shoulder and her dress was all the way open until the middle of her stomach. It's a lot for him to handle, but he feels blessed to see such a sight.

"No. It's perfect. You're perfect."

Y/n's skin heats up despite the room being cold. She was starting to get a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't a bad one or an uncomfortable feeling, but it was something she wasn't used to.

Now she's half-naked and posing on his couch. The first few photos he took of her like this were awkward as they both had to adjust to Y/n being half-naked.

Steve couldn't ignore the way the cold air made her nipples hard and breast tender. Steve was supposed to be on his best behavior, but he is seconds away from making a stupid mistake with his best friend.

Y/n arches her back which makes her breast jut out at him. Steve pauses to pray that he doesn't get a hard on. He feels a bit like a scumbag for even having this dilemma. It's just his best friend's half-naked body — that looks so soft and tender.

He forced himself to steel his resolve and hurry up and finish the task at hand. He began to treat her more like a model instead of the best friend he has a crush on.

"Try this," he suggests to her to move her body in a different way, which she does, but it's not quite what he wants. He was hesitant to get his hands on her, but he went for it anyway, "a little more like this."

In the process of moving her body, his hand brushed against her nipple. Y/n involuntarily let out a moan which made both of them pause. They looked at each other before Y/n let out a nervous laugh to try to play it off.

"Sorry," Steve apologizes.

"It's okay."

He glosses over what just happened and goes back to moving her body to her liking. He can't get over how good she feels underneath him. The truth is that he was taking his time to be able to have this experience for much longer. He may never have this kind of closeness with her again and he just can't quite let go.

Y/n watches his face as his hands touch her body. He looks so handsome under this lighting and Y/n wonders if she's always felt this way about Steve. For some reason she feels lust swirling inside of her. She hopes she isn't making a mistake when she leans forward and kisses him. Steve freezes under her kiss, stunned by reality, but he lets it happen. Her lips feel so soft against his, just like he always imagined.

She pulls away and places her forehead against his. Steve still has his eyes closed, lost in the dream that is Y/n's closeness.

"You can open your eyes now," she teases him. He obeys her and laughs along with her.

"I've wanted this for so long," he admits.

The revelation is shocking to her. She had no idea he felt this way about her, but now she wonders how much she's been oblivious to.

"Do you want this, Y/n? The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable."

"No, no — I want this Steve. I wanna feel you touching me," her voice became somewhat whiny as desire fueled her.

With her blessing, Steve did not hold back. He kissed her hard, the way he imagined he would always kiss her. Imagine the way his heart nearly stopped when Y/n kissed him back with the same amount of fervor and want. Her hand came up and rested against the stubble on his cheek. They wish they could say their kiss was delicate, but it was not; it was sloppy and their tongues danced with each other.

When Steve pulls away, he's out of breath, but he's happy. The light touches he gave to her body earlier were not a bit rougher. He wants to explore every inch of her body in seconds, but he wants to be patient; he has all night to discover every inch of her.

"Touch me right here, Steve."

Y/n places his hands on her breast with his thumbs in reach of her nipples. Steve's thumb runs across her taut nipples which makes her sigh. "You like that?" He asks with a bit more confidence. She nods her head and her approval emboldens him. “Good.”

His lips ghost across the skin on her neck before he places a wet kiss against the skin on her throat. He can feel her breath hitch every time he places a tender kiss on her flesh. She smells like lavender and it makes him feel dizzy. He keeps playing with her nipples as he begins to suck on her neck. Y/n wants to just lay there and take in the feeling of him spoiling her, but she also wants to hear him moan. She strokes the bulge in his pants with her knee and she feels him groan against her skin. He lightly grinds himself against her knee to relieve all of the tension that built up inside of him. Neither of them are sure who wants who more, but it doesn’t matter to either of them. Knowing that this is an equal exchange of love and lust is enough for the two of them.

“Oh god Steve,” Y/n coos when he sucks on the most sensitive part of her neck. They’ve only just begun, but he makes her feel so good. A part of her is wishing that she had discovered Steve’s crush on her a long time ago, but she has him now and that’s all that matters.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he says against her skin, “I wanna make you cum.”

Y/n can’t help but moan at his confession. She can already imagine how it would feel to have him between her legs.

“Please Steve!”

Steve sits up just to push her dress up. The cotton panties she wears has a pink bow sewn onto it and he finds it adorable. He glances back up at her and he notices that she’s looking away from him. She’s now feeling bashful knowing that he’s going to see her completely naked even though she wants all of this and more. “It’s okay, pretty girl,” Steve pacifies her by slowly stroking her outer thigh. She finally looks at him, her pupils wide with lust. She almost sighs in content when he starts to slide her panties down. The cool air of the rooms only heats her up once it hits her hot sex.

“My god,” Steve whispers to himself. She looks so pretty, but she’s absolutely messy between her legs. She places her foot on the back of his couch to spread herself wider for him. “Good girl.”

Steve lowers himself between her legs and just stares at her for a moment. He wants to remember this for the rest of his life just in case this is the last time something like this happens between the two of them. He would be crushed if Y/n asked to just continue on as friend’s after this, but he would be eternally grateful that she granted him this opportunity. All he wants to do is make her feel good; his pleasure will follow suit, but it’s all about her.

One of his fingers runs along the edge of her folds. Y/n whimpers at the delicate way he treats her body. She feels so lucky to have someone so kind and sweet like Steve. He touches her with care, and love is in every stroke. “You’re so perfect,” he says before kissing her inner thigh. Every part of her body is sensitive but somehow she is able to withstand it all.

The first lick to her pussy overblows both of their senses. She’s sweet like honey and juicy like a peach. Steve’s first instinct is to groan against her pussy which sends vibration throughout her entire body. She feels like she’s on fire as all of the blood in her body goes straight to her sensitive nub. His tongue focuses on her clit and she’s in heaven. Steve’s tongue moves with so much skill and precision, but most importantly, passion. Steve treats her like he truly wants her, and Y/n can’t help but fall for him at this moment.

“You taste so good,” he coos against her slick.

The way he paws at her body while licking her pussy makes her feel like she’s being worshiped. Tears well in her eyes the harder he sucks at her clit. She hopes his neighbors’ aren’t home because they’d probably be annoyed at the loud sounds of her cries of pleasure. He has her on the edge and it just takes him rolling her nipples with his fingers that finally push her over.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Her cries are so angelic to him. And as much as he wants to keep licking her out, Steve needs to be inside of her so bad. He tames himself and pulls his mouth away from her to pull himself out of his pants. His incredibly hard, the head of his cock an angry red as it leaks pre-cum. “This is what you do to me,” his words are haunting. Y/n whines and wiggles her hips from being so impatient.

Steve lowers himself and presses the head of her cock at her opening. She’s so slippery that he pushes into her with ease. His cock is so big that she inhales sharply as she takes all of him inside of her. Her walls are like silk around him.

“So tight baby — oh god.”

Steve feels like he’s going to explode already. Her pussy is squeezing him and she looks up at him with wide eyes as she takes his cock like a good girl. It is the hardest task he’s ever faced in his life to not cum already. She just feels so good.

“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly before dipping his head to kiss her forehead.

She nods her head, “yes, Steve…feels so good,” she manages to speak coherently.

Her legs were thrown over his legs which allows him to fuck deeper into her. She looks so beautiful underneath him. Steve wants to feel her cum on his cock so bad. She flutters around him when he pulls out of her only to push back in seconds later.

Steve can only control himself for so long before he’s pounding into her. The cry of his name on her lips is so saccharine that it gives him a sweet tooth. He sucks on the skin of her neck to satisfy that need while Y/n places her hand on the back of his head as she moans for him.

“I’m gonna cum Steve! You’re going to make me cum!”

The ridges of his cock feels so good inside of her, but what really does it for her is how the head of his cock is kissing her cervix. The stretch of his cock is such a delicious burn that she wants him inside forever. With his face planted in her neck, lips kissing at her skin, Y/n is completely enamored with the way Steve consumes all of her. She is his just as much as he is her.

He feels her sex squeeze him one more time before she’s cumming all around him. She clings to him as her orgasm ravages through her. Steve fucks her through it before reluctantly pulling out of her. Her jerks himself off until he’s cumming all over her pretty tits, painting her body like she’s one of the world’s most precious masterpieces.

The two are completely spent as their limbs dangle off of his couch. Y/n’s heart is full feeling his cum cooling on her chest. She dips a finger in his spent and sucks it off, savoring his taste since she didn’t get a chance to go down on him. Steve almost passes out at the sight.

“You’re crushing my legs Steve,” she laughs warmly. He rolls off of her and off of the couch entirely.

Steve grabs a towel and starts t0 clean up her chest. He remembers what they were supposed to be accomplishing, but after what just happened between the two of them, Steve is certain he won’t be anxious about asking her to be his model again.

“So, where do we go from here?”

The question catches him off guard. He slowly wipes away his cum with the damp towel from her chest. As much as finding the answer to this question is hard, he is happy that she asked it because it means that she’s giving him a chance.

“I don’t want this to be the last time we do this,” Steve admits. He’s quickly become addicted to the way their foreheads pressed together; it just feels so intimate. “I love you too much for this to be the last time we ever spend like this together.”

As much as tonight has been shocking to her after the revelation of Steve proving to her that he loves her, she’s only overwhelmed with positive emotions.

“Then let’s not let this be the last time,” she whispers against his lips.

A wave of relief washes over Steve as he just lays there against, their bare bodies pressed against each other as if this is always how it should’ve been. His only hope is that they can stay like this forever.

#steve rogers #artist!steve #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #fic #Chris Evans #chris evans characters #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu smut #stever rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

254 notes · View notes