#i have a few more poses that i didnt have space to draw..... maybe another day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shcherbatskya · 3 years

Text

A case in suburbia, domestic dynamics, and a forever home. What could go wrong?

the moment i’ve been waiting for! chapter one is up now! read here or under the cut.

Cas and Dean were searching for a forever house. They had been pretty much since Cas got back from the empty. They were ready to distance themselves from hunting. Dean had always wanted a sort of suburban, white picket fence life, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. And since he already admitted how he truly felt to Cas, why not throw his need for a domestic lifestyle into the mix. Cas was all for it. Ever since Jack had given up most of his powers to Amara, thus causing her to take his place as God and him almost human, Cas had been hoping for a place to raise him like a normal child. The bunker was great for hunting and a place for Cas, Dean, and Sam, but not so much for raising a 5-year-old kid.

House hunting had been a burden to bear, but they were making out alright. Up till this, they’d looked at about 3 other houses. They were all a no for different reasons. The first one Cas decided was in a school district that wouldn’t be good for Jack, the second didn’t have a big enough garage or backyard, and the third didn’t have enough bedrooms for all of their family to stay. With the whole credit card scam they’d been running for as long as they remember, budget wasn’t really a problem, but they didn’t want something extravagant.

There it was, 538 Chapel Street in Pine River Crossings. It wasn’t too far out of Lawrence, only a few hours' drive, and all the houses looked nice. Very cookie cutter, but that was sort of the appeal. They couldn’t guarantee that they would fit in with the traditional, upper middle-class people, but what the hell, if they could kill god they could take suburbia.

A few days passed, and they were set up to look at the home. They drove the hour and a half to the next medium-sized town with the belief in their minds that this was the one. It had all they needed, a two-car garage, a respectable school district, and two guest bedrooms. They were so caught up in this concept they made the mistake of not checking the news for the nearby areas. Once they arrived, a realtor who showed them around the dwelling greeted them. It was all they could ask for and more practically too good to be true, especially for people like them. The actual presentation of the house went over without too many problems. The person exhibiting the residence commented on how it had been on display for almost a month now, which was the first red flag. A house as nice as this, in a densely populated area, would usually not be on the market for that long in weeks unless there was some hidden con.

They signed on it not a day after seeing the house in person. It was all set up and they could officially start moving stuff in the next week. They officially shared the good news with everyone the day after they signed. Sam was beyond happy for them. Not only would he finally have a space to himself, he was proud of his brother for living the life he’d always wanted. Jack was thrilled that he would get to go to actual school and have friends that were his age and not cosmic entities. In the meantime, Cas did more research into the neighborhood. There was their hidden con. The newspaper Cas had pulled up on his phone said, “Local Couple Murdered in Own Home.”

“Dean, look at this.”

Okay, that was a setback. A murderer on the loose in the neighborhood they were moving into was not exactly what he had planned, but he had delt with worse. “Alright, that could be a problem.”

“I think it’s a little bigger than a problem,” Cas retorted.

“Is it our type of thing or just something local law enforcement could deal with?”

Cas read on in the article, “the couple was stabbed, there was no sign of forced entry, neighbors reported nothing amiss besides lights flickering before the murder. The weapon, as well as the perpetrator, was never found. No official suspects have been labeled, everyone has seemed to have an alibi.”

“It definitely sounds like our thing. Lights flickering, no breaking and entering, and all.”

They decided they could pose as residents, as it seemed perfectly normal for the newcomers to be concerned about the literal murderer on the loose. Since Cas was newly human, and Jack was, well, 5, Dean thought they might need outside help. Being out of practice to spend more time with your husband and child really had its fallbacks. Sam was off the table as backup. He was out of town and Dean didn't want to interrupt his first weekend without him in god knows how long. Plus, they needed someone who wouldn't draw too much attention to their family dynamic.

“Hey, Cas, what do you think about calling in Claire to help us with this one? You think she’d do it?”

“Calling her in for help is a good idea, whether or not shed actually do it is another question.”

“I’ll call and ask, and if she wants to help, and if not then I can think of something else.”

He kept his promise and called Claire not an hour later. He decided it might be best not to tell her it was undercover work, or that it was taking place in a white picket fence neighborhood, as that might turn her off from it almost immediately.

“Hey Claire, its been too long since we’ve talked,” he started.

“Hi Dean. what do you want, there’s no way you’re just calling to catch up if you’re starting with ‘its been too long.’”

“You got me there. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Cas on a hunt. Its not too far from the bunker and we’d have you back home in a week.”

“Sure, that works. When do we start?” She hadnt seen Dean and Cas since they rescued Cas. That was over a month ago, she’d been meaning to visit, but she’d been so busy with hunting, and getting to know Kaia again now that she was finally back. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnect and not miss out on anything too big back at home.

“If you could come down here by Wednesday, that’d be great.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” She was tempted to sign off with an ‘I love you’ but she was never a lovey-dovey person in that way.

On tuesday she promised Jody she’d be extra careful and would be back in under a week. Kaia told her to make sure to call every day and update her on what was happening. Claire agreed, promising to keep in touch. She spent the rest of the day driving down to Kansas.

Back on Dean and Cas’s end, they were trying to get the house set up for 4 people when they had no furniture prior to this. Cas had always loved furniture shopping even before he had a use for it. When he worked at the Gas-and-Sip, he would browse the home improvement magazines in his spare time. Dean was pretty much the opposite. He had never had reason to care for it, so he didn't. Maybe his hatred for Swedish furniture was rooted in his deep-seated commitment issues. It didn't matter much why he hated it, he just left most of the choices up to Cas. there was then the issue of appliances and such you couldn't find in a furniture store. That was left up to him. Cas sent him out to Walmart to get things for the kitchen. That was something he could do. He picked out a mixer, some silverware, and a pioneer woman kitchenware set. It came with pots and pans, mixing bowls, and a few normal sized plates. That was enough for him to consider it an absolute steal. He brought his finds home to the bunker, setting them on the table designated for things that were to go in the new house. Jack was sitting on Cas’s lap, pointing at things on the computer.

“What’re you guys finding?” Dean asked, hovering behind Cas’s shoulder.

“Djungelskog!” Jack exclaimed, showing Dean a photo of a large stuffed brown bear.

“I thought you were looking for furniture?” Dean directed the question more at Cas, but he was still looking at Jack.

“We are. Jack just got us a bit sidetracked. We found the majority of what we need. Among other things not of as grave importance.”

Dean looked over the shopping cart and then gave the go ahead. Not before adding the stuffed bear to the cart, though.

The next day Claire arrived. Everyone was thrilled to see her. Jack ran up and threw himself around one of her legs and Cas gave her an awkward dad side hug. Dean wondered when he would tell her what the hunt would actually consist of, but he didn't want to interrupt the moment.

A few hours later, Dean fixed everyone a real dinner and had them sit down at the kitchen table. The realization dawned on him that this was going to be his last sit down meal officially living in the bunker. Everyone sort of just sat in silence for a beat. Perhaps reflecting on their own lasts of officially living there. “Claire, I sorta forgot to add this when I called you, but the case is a lot of undercover work. Also its in a suburban area.”

“And why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

“Well to speak freely, I wanted you on this case and I was worried it would make you not want to come.”

“It almost does, but i'm already here now, and i wouldn't want to waste a days driving on something i'm not actually going to do.” She guessed this would probably take longer than a week. “And i'm guessing this isn't just something you decided to do out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“We bought a house in the area, and we just wanted to make sure it was safe,” Cas explained.

“Hang on, you bought a house for real and you didnt even think to tell me? You didn't think that that was valuable information?”

“It didn't come up in our phone call,” Dean said.

“And? That’s no excuse to leave your daughter out of major life events!” The ‘daughter’ part just sort of came out without her noticing, but seconds after she said it she regretted it. God, how embarrassing.

“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner. It was kind of a recent decision, though, so you haven’t been out of the loop for too long,” Cas said.

The next day was moving day. Dean loaded the appliances into the back of Claire’s car, since the back of the Impala was already full. Claire took her own car, while Dean, Cas, and Jack rode in Baby. Their real furniture was being delivered as they spoke. Cas offered to ride with Claire, but she assured him she’d be fine by herself. The drive wasn’t even that long, especially compared to the distance she drove yesterday.

Dean was silently nervous. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but it was written all over his face. His first real stable house, with the man he loved, and his two kids, he could only hope that he didn’t mess it up. Cas put a hand on his shoulder showing he saw how Dean was feeling.

They turned onto Chapel Street and pulled up into the driveway of the house. It somehow looked bigger and more daunting than it had during the walkthrough. Claire arrived almost ten minutes later. Everyone just sort of paused in front of the house for a minute, reveling in the stability most of them had never had.

#pspspsps you want to reblog my hard work sooo bad #supernatural #spn #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural fic #samael speaks #sammy sires

22 notes · View notes

imagining-sio · 5 years

Text

Escapism III

Chapter III: Name your Price

A/N: sorry for the inactivity; I am currently studying abroad in France!!!

——————————————————————————

The next day started off with the alarm blaring from under my pillow. I shut off the alarm lazily before sluggishly manuvering out of bed. as my toes touched the floor, I hissed at the cold sensation. Rubbing my eyes, I walk downstairs, starting the keurig upon the small amount of countertop space I had in the kitchen.

I opened the front door, grabbing the newspaper. I glanced at the headline, finding it uninteresting. I looked up toward my neighbor’s home, only to find my neighbor picking up his paper without a shirt. I could easily spot the sleeve of tattoos that went from his wrist to his pectoral. His adonis-like body was glistening in the morning dew. I quickly looked away, hoping he couldnt see me as I slammed the door. I placed my hand upon my chest, trying to regulate my breathing. I wiped my hand overmy face praying that what I saw was some sort of delayed sleep paralysis.

I groaned, grabbing my mug of tea and moing back upstairs to get dressed for the day. I threw on a red sweater, one that was a little oversized due to the recent weather over the past week. I stepped into my dark washed jeans before slipping into my white sneakers. I took one last bated breath before mustering up the courage to walk outside for the day. I didnt have to go to work, but I had errands to run. Groceries was first on the list.

I placed the tea in a to-go mug, flung my woolen trench coat on, and grabbed my purse and keys before walking out the door. Thankfully, there was no half naked neighbor to greet my sight this time, but a woman whom was visibly dishevled leaving his home, our eyes made contact as she got into her cab. As soon as it was out of sight I watched as he lifted the garage door up, helmet in hand.

I wasted no time entering the drivers seat of my vehicle, I wasnt much up for conversation today. I set my purse in the passenger seat beside me, my keys jingling between my fingers. I stuck the key in ignition, fully expecting the vehicle to run when I turned it over.

The response I recieved was less than reasuring. The engine all but keeled over, sputting long enough before I gave up. I tried a few more times, growing more impatient each time. I tried one last time before boiling over completely.

“Are you kidding me?!” I cursed at the poor bronco. The one that had gooten from one side of the country to another. This poor, old, dishelved piece I could not bare to part from. I knew in the back of my head it was only a matter of time, but still; would it have killed him to get me into town.

I stormed out of the vehicle, samming the door, not caring who had heard it. I could hear the faint sound of music coming from the garage across the street; but I was too furious to care about it at the moment. I propped open the hood of good ole Oliver, looking at his entrails as if they were a foreign language.

Automechanics was a foreign language.

I hung my head in deafeat after looking at the engine for mere seconds. I was never going to be able to fix it. I heaved a sigh before peaking out from underneath the propped hood; the music was surefire evidence he was still there.

‘Suck it up, and go ask him,’ I repeated to myself. I wrung my hands out as I walked across the street. I relaized as I was doing so this would be the frist time I would be actively seeking him out, and not him running into me or simply by obligation.

His back was facing me as I walked up his driveway. The alternative music was blaring as he worked on his motorcycle. Fotunately he had put on a shirt, a greasy white one, but a shirt was still a shirt. A dark bottle lay at his boot, and his toolbox at the other. His hair wasn’t tied back like it nomrally was back at the shop. intead he mere tucked most of it behind his ears to keep it out of his face as he worked.

His sleeve of tattoos stood out porminently upon his arm, with only a small space left showing his actual skin. It was upon th einside of his arm, the part of his bicep that was closest to his heart. Strange why someone would leave it open and untouched like that. Then again I cannot judge what someone does to their body.

I swallowed the nonexistent gum in my throat and walked up to the doorway of his garage, knocking on the frame a few raps.

He somehow heard me knocking or saw my shadow, because he turned his head and looked at me. Initially he looked suprised to see me, which I couldnt blame him for. Its not like I was someone who was neighborly, unlike his philosophy. He grabbed the strewn remote in his pocket, turning the volume of his radio down signofocantly.

“Hello neighbor, what brings you to my humble abode?” His charm was on full display, though the bags under his eyes begged to differ.

“I made need some assistance.” my shoulders hiked up as I pursed my lips.

“And what would you need assistance with?” He stood up, wiping his greasy hands on a towel he had kept on his pant leg as he sat. He sauntered up as he did so, when finishing he slapped the towel over his shoulder, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“I need,” I watched as his smirk grew and his brow hiked up his forehead; “your knoweldge on how to fix cars.” I threw my thumb backward, pointing to my vehicle in my driveway.

“I thought I told you to bring it by the shop?” He smirked.

“I wasn’t aware that it was a prophecy.” I rolled my eyes, feeling slightly kiddish as he smiled down at me.

“Maybe you should start listening to me more often.” Bucky nudged me as he strode out of my driveway in his destroyed jeans. I couldnt help but marvel of how the hell his thighs could fit into them in the first place.

“You coming?” I didn’t notice he had stopped. I couldn’t help but smile as I walked up to join him.

“So what is wrong with the Bronco?”

“He won’t start?”

“He?”

“Yes, he. Oliver is his name, treat him nicely.” I said as he walked up to the propped hood. He took a glance at it, making sure tht the importnat wires were connected properly. I subnociously made note of how taut his arms were as he did so.

This man was going to be the death of me.

“Hm, doesn’t look like the starter is broken. Your oil is fine too. Try starting it?”

I did as he said, hopping into the open seat, turning over the ignition again. The loud spurting sound came out in full force. Bucky ducked underneath the vehicle as I stopped turning the engine.

“Nope that is the starter all right.” he placed his hand in his scruffy chin, a small patch of grease staining it.

“How much for a starter?” I asked, drawing him out of his train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh, please, no need. Lemme grab one of my spares in the garage. Easy fix.”

That alarmed me. I did not like owing people. Owing people eant they had someting to hold over you. Something to chain you down. Owing people was leverage over you.

“No, lemme pay for it. Please,” I inisisted.

“Oh, no sweetheart. Not gonna happen. Thsi is an easy fix. It’s really no trouble for me. I have plenty of spares.” He said with a dashing smile. I walked back with him over to his garage, hellbent on proving him wrong.

“Than naem a price and I’ll pay it! It’s really not too much trouble, Barnes.”

“What did I say about calling me Barnes,” he said with a smile, laughing as he searched for the desired piece.

“Fine,” I said; “How much do I owe you, Bucky.”

“Looks like I need to go to the shop, I’m all out of spares.” He looked up at me from his rummaging in his spare bins of nuts and bolts. I noticed the glint in his eyes.

“No.”

“I haven’t even said anything,” He chuckled.

“Anything but that.”

“It’ll be really short.”

“Bucky, please.”

“I like it when you say my name like that.” he flashed a charming grin.

“Are you seriously trying to flirt your way into getting what you want?” I raised a brow. He paled.

“Is it working?” His expression winced. I could only raise my brows expectantly.

“It may have wokred on your latest romp last night but it won’t work on me.”

“So you saw her huh?”

“Not like she was subtle about it.”

“Yeah, she certainly wasn’t.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Still think I’m gonna do what you want.’

“Yes.” He smirked.

“Oh really,” I laughed; “How so?”  “That’s my price. Take a ride with me to go get what I need and I’ll fix your bucket of bolts.”

“His name is Oliver.” I corrected him.

“That isn’t a no.” He leaned down and gave me a shit-eating grin. I glared daggers at him before caving in.

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes, chuckling as he stuck a victory pose.

“Lemme grab my jacket.” He ran inside, appearing a moment later with a moto jacket on his body and a helmet in hand.

“Safety first.” He paced the white helmet on my head, looming down so he could clip the buckle underneath my chin properly.

“I can do it myself you know?” I giggled, easing my nervousness.

“I know, but how else am I gonna get you to talk to me?”

“By talking to me.” I deapanned. He sat on his motorcycle, kicking it a few times to start it up.

“Where’s, your helmet?” I asked.

“You’re wearing it.” He said as he revved the bike with the mere flick of his wrist.

“Lemme guess, you have your spares at teh shop too?”

“You know me so well.” he smiled.

“I’m starting to think this is all a ploy for me to get on this bike.” I mutterd before sitting on the bike behind him. He chuckled, alerting me to that he had indeed heard my statement.

“Here,” he took hold of my hands, placing them upon his waist, making me hold onto him tight.

“Smooth move, Barnes,” I commented.

“I know”, he smirked over his shoulder toward me.

“Oh thank god, he’s self aware.” I said sarcastically, making him laugh. It was that harmony you would want to hear again and again.

“Hold on tight, doll,” He said, knocking the bike off of its kickstand. He revved the engine and sped off into the street. I held on with a bine knuckle grip, smushing my head into his back. I could only squeeze my eyes shut as the wind blew past us. I took deep breaths, inhaling his scent of leather and firewood. I gained the courage to peak my eyes open, gaining a beautiful sight.

The trees were lit just right as we whizzed by them into town, the light barely peaking through the leaves. The reflections of the lake felt like a kaleidoscope of color. I could only gaze in wonder at all of it. As we got closer into town, the trees were becoming sparse, and telephone poles were the only thing that was relatively tall enough to fit the giant redwood forest’s height. By about twenty feet or so. A content smile grew upon my face, my head coming to rest on the cushion in front of me. That cushion of course being the pilot of this contraption built for adrenaline seekers.

We soon pulled onto a familiar street, and seconds later into the auto shop. It appeared to be open, but it would seem that Bucky was not working today, the same as I wasn’t working to day either.

“See, here we are; safe and sound.” Barnes hopped off the motorcycle, a confident smile plastered upon his lips. I fiddled with the helmet before taking it off my head, trying to tame the windswept hair. How in gods name could he make windswept hair look good? It wasn’t fair.

He held his hand out, to which I gratefully took as I got off the vehicle. I handed him the helmet, before taking three steps back.

“I’ll be just a second.” He placed the helmet on the seat as he walked away to some corner of the building. I knew the place well by this point so I opted to just stand there.

Until I heard a loud clang of a wrench hitting the floor. I jumped out of my sling at the sound, turning to find both Steve and Sam standing a few feet away with mouths open to the floor. Steve has his arm up, and the large wrench at his feet.

“Uh hey guys,” I gave a small awkward wave.

“He let you ride the bike?” Same stood up from underneath the vehicle.

“Uh, yeah; is that a bad thing?” I was becoming anxious at their shared expressions.

“Didn’t he go home with you last night?” Steve asked. I paled at his insinuation.

“N-no! It’s not like that! I just gave him a ride home is all! I swear! We didn’t- I would never!” I scrambled to find words. I could see Sam’s expression quickly change from one of shock to one of amusement. For Steve however, it took him a lot longer to just become passive in his facial expression.

“You would never what?” Bucky’s voice made me stiff to the bone. He was directly beside me, holding a boxed started in his hand. I watched as his smile faded as he looked at his two friends.

“What?” He glared at Sam.

“Nothing,” Sam chuckled as he crossed his arms.

“Just spit it out Wilson.” He groaned.

“You let ride your bike?” Steve spike, still reeling, this time his tone turning hopeful.

“What about it?” He turned defensive.

“Oh, nothing. Never thought she would actually agree to it is all. She’s out of your league.” Sam chuckled, pointing his finger wiggling it between the two of us. I chuckled as Bucky began to fume.

“You’re hilarious. Don’t you have work to do?” He ordered, his tone darkened. It caught me off guard. I watched as Bucky turned heel and began to pack the item into his bike.

“Sure do, Sergeant,” Sam smirked as I watched Bucky stop mid step.

“For the love of god, stop calling me that.” He groaned, craning his head back at the two men. I could watch the interaction silently.

“Nah, it’s funny,” Wilson laughed.

“I still out rank you,” Bucky called over the sound of his engine revving.

“Eat my ass Barnes!” Sam cupped his hands over his mouth. The subsequent Barnes just gave him the finger in return. All the while Steve kept repeating that he let me ride the bike.

What kind of idiots did I befriend.

“Here you go.” Bucky handed me his white and black striped helmet.

“Sergeant?” I asked, a mischievous glint sparkled in my eye. I placed the helmet on my head, finding my place back upon the motorcycle. I could only watch as Bucky rolled his eyes, a faint dusting of pink tint his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a vet. Big whoop.” He said offhandedly, “hang on.” He have the small warning before we sped back into the road and bi-ways.

#beefy bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky #biker au #biker #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel

40 notes · View notes