#lay your weary head to rest. (chapter i)

[bloodsalted]

@qapsiel || just remember. you asked for this. || oh maaan.

Sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding > maybe the rusty nail? :) :) :) :)

routine. fucking joke how that word ricochets in dean's head. a vampire nest was taking out innocent travelers and locals in a neighboring town far too close to home? dean gets reached out to. in turn? he reaches out to sam. they decide that since the bloodsuckers are knocking on their door? they'd go do some knocking back. get them gone. clean up the dark. something they've done countless times day in and day out since they were kids. long before they were popping pimples, they were popping rounds off at these assholes. nothing more than training practice for the bigger guys. nothing more than..

..routine.

til it wasn't.

there's metal where metal isn't supposed to be. deep. where metal, definitely, isn't supposed to be. dean can feel and taste the copper and thick pool of blood at the back of his throat. some slips out from between his lips as he calls. "sammy." cold rushes in. panic. adrenaline. anything his body can do to erase the blinding pain stemming from where he's stuck to the beam? it's speeding into the cracks and tears for numbness to take over. warp speed! overdrive. and not really succeeding. giving it's best shot, though.

"sammy." he hears himself mumbling through his brother polishing off the asshole that sent him flying backwards. terrified eyes meet his. shoulders encased in sam's hands. his brother holds on like he's keeping him grounded. here. whole. dean begs him, in his head and the way his hand braces a forearm weakly, not to pull. he tries to smile away the worry in sam's eyes, his breath, his jerky movements. sam does best to figure out what's wrong looking him over like a mother hen sensing something's just off but not seeing it face to face. yet.

"...messed up. ever zig when ya shoulda zagged? one of those.. a big one." then the sheer horror in hazel eyes once sammy realizes what's off--dean's head just falls forward to rest against his brother's chin. "it's okay, sammy. it's gonna be okay. where's cas..?"

the brothers are murmuring to one another when cas finishes the lingering fanged freak upstairs. 'dean--,' he hears the soft confusion in cas's voice when he drops down from the second floor landing with a solid thud that shakes dean's footing on rotten floorboards. makes him shake and tears sting pained green eyes. fuck it hurts! all of it hurts. '--sam?' cas sounds like he's ready to crawl out of his skin for answers if one isn't given immediately.

his brother's quick to gesture for cas to take over telling him he has to call 911. rather than provide him an immediate answer. thoughts scatter as anxiety and dread settle in. he has to do something! doesn't matter what dean said. he's gonna fix him, fix this. SOMEHOW. sam gestures from a rusty rebar near the ceiling to dean's chest, staring at castiel with a pale face and watery, red eyes. 'don't let him go,' the younger winchester begs. 'don't let him..' die goes unsaid. there's a mess of blood that starts as bubbles at dean's mouth then trickles down his chin to become a steady stream of grotesque dark red. the kind of red that comes from somewhere deep. droplets land on cas's lapel as dean's head rests on the former angel's shoulder.

"i'm sorry, cas. i can't.. i didn't--" this was all supposed to be so routine. he burns from head to toe and feels so damn tired. "love you, cas. 'm sorry." outside, sam's practically yelling into the phone. the hunter's voice rings in dean's ear. far off and distanct. he wishes his brother would just come back... a wobbly hand snags a fistful of the front of cas's shirt. he's not allowed to leave, too. his weight shifts, tears a howl out of lungs that feel like they're wobbling in his chest. slumping against cas, he sucks in a breath that doesn't wanna get swallowed. even that hurts now. "this wasn't s'pposed to happen.." they're happy. he's got a life to leave and he doesn't want to! not now that he has it! desperation. please don't take this from us! not that he knows what it's like to breathe away from the life he never wanted in the first place. god damn figures, doesn't it? some kinda sick joke.. and now he's pissed and scared and his heart's breaking as he looks into the tear-brimmed eyes of the one who loves him the most.

then again. he always did say it was gonna end this way. didn't he..?

just another part of the routine.

[bloodsalteds]

@qapsiel || mystery prompts: sinday action edition || accepting!

2 + 11, i'm going for broke and doing both! (including them in the actual post but not listing what they are so it doesn't spoil the post!)

they've done this together more than a few times now. shared some fantasies in whispered tones when all the lights've been blown out from their antics. sam's getting rooms to himself lately (a few doors down so he doesn't have to hear) and they have so much time to make up for. so many experiences to have. so many ways to enjoy each other that dean doesn't feel like there's enough time in every night they can take to fit it all in. cas is the same. always looking for more. always wanting more. it's sinful how much they crave one another. lust at it's finest. and dean couldn't care any less.

not when his wrists are now bound together above his head. cas's tie is laced around and through in loops that intertwine a metallic rung of the headboard. he's good at tying knots. impressive even. dean's hands aren't going anywhere. a shuddering breath parts tongue swept lips left glistening with spit. his head lifts, a gasp drawn through them when the angel's fingers close around a nipple pinching it lightly and he groans when he sees the blue in castiel's eyes darken as they flick up to meet his.

the stare holds dean in place. pulse thundering in his ear drums as his breath quickens, stomach trembling and his erection is thick and curved towards his belly. unable to move and barely able to get out anything more than a shaken murmur of cas's name, the hunter's toes curl before his knee opposite of where cas lays beside him bends and drags them across the much softer sheets compared to the hotel they were at last night. he needs him. needs him so fucking bad it HURTS.

"you're gonna be the end of me," he whines shakenly body arching towards the touch as his head falls back down--head turned in cas's direction as dazed eyes take in the sight of him, how the shadows play off a bare shoulder. god damn, was he gonna be.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@ghstfacr || nightamres & sleeping meme || accepting!

“I broke the lock. You were screaming.”

no matter how many time's he's tried to save him. he keeps getting the same outcome. every door he opens and runs through? sam's dead on the other side. he's killed the fucking demon three different ways. out ran it twice. and dean just can't do it. the door opens. sam's bloodied and limp. torn apart and gone. hanging and staring down at him with vacant eyes. burnt and a shadow blazed into the fucking concrete. make that make sense! you can't! cause DEAN can't!

the more he finds him broken, bloodied and dead--the more panicked dean gets. and he can't wake up. there's no waking up and he's starting to think he's not dreaming anymore. maybe he really is awake and this is some kind of fucking hell he's ended up trapped in with no escaping.

this time the door's still bloody with his handprints. crimson that's not his own. and this time sam's standing there. neck twisted. eyes rolled white and then they fill with black. teeth gnashing together with thick black dripping through them spilling between his lips, "you did this.." he hisses. wet vitriol. laced with hisses and gutteral noises in languages that haunt him from the dark. dean screams. and then there's a bang.

round, wild eyes stare at the face that comes into view. 'i broke the lock. you were screaming.' and dean's scrambling up out of bed. half dressed and his palms brushing wildly at his face. "i..uh..yeah.. wow," one swings to cup the back of his neck and he jerks the other one towards the bed puffing out a hasty laugh. brush it off. don't let her see you sweat. literally. "spider! whew... thank god. you busted the lock--wait--you what?" he jerks an impressed brow up. anything to get that vision out of his head. ANYTHING!

[bloodsalted]

yes, cas. there's been a few friendship levels unlocked tonight. by the way dean holds onto him--strokes his cheek with the edge of his thumb as cas cups the back of his hand? dean winchester is, at last, giving into every freaking dream sequence/curiosity he's had for--for a long time. too long. too many buckets of blood, sweat and tears spilled from the point where he realized he wanted this man to tonight. eh. thoughts like that stain the moment. they're not allowed in bed with them. not tonight.

he flashes a smile when cas agrees. wide and brimming. castiel isn't the only one that's gonna hold onto tonight until the end of time sucks all the universes, heavens or hells into wherever it decides to plop them next. dean won't let this go. won't let it slip. his heart feels light, even skips a couple beats, when cas promises they have all the time in the world to do it again and again and again. that smile that follows though? that spreads across cas's lips and makes dean's eyes soften immeasurably? oh that's worth a million years to wait for. just to see. stamp to memory. cherish.

the kiss soothes him down to his core. eyes lazily open just enough to peek up into cas's as the grace slithers through his system and lures him into sleep. "you mean everything, cas.. you always have.." his voice is a far off whisper as he melts further into the sheets and, in turn, closer to cas's chest--hand still held against his cheek becomes limp in cas's grip as dean's nose tucks in against the side of the other's neck. a warm breath is exhaled and it's off to a sleep that's deep and peaceful. instead of a couple of hours of restless shut eye.

                              CASTIEL WATCHES DEAN TYPE A MESSAGE TO HIS BROTHER, his face illuminated by the pale, bluish light of the display. It makes his freckles stand out like the spots of a Dalmatian. Castiel starts to count them but only gets to 12 before Dean shuts off his phone and puts it back on the nightstand. Castiel wonders what he wrote to his brother. That he wants to sleep in? That he's coming down with the flu and needs a couple of hours of shuteye more than usual? Castiel is sure there is some sort of excuse. Their sexual adventures don't seem like something Dean would share with his brother, mainly because Castiel doesn't possess a female vessel with big breasts. 

                               It doesn't matter; Dean rolls back on his side, and now they're very close, the hunter's leg wrapping around Castiel's in a way that's decidedly like the cuddling shown on TV. Interesting. Orgasms seem to unlock quite a lot of friendship levels Castiel hasn't been aware of. He won't complain, though, not when he feels warm and somehow protected, as if Dean's mere presence is enough to keep every evil thing at bay. Castiel turns his head on the pillow, looks at Dean in the dim light of the motel room. The hand on his jaw is gentle. Castiel pulls his arm from under the covers and tenderly cradles Dean's hand to his face.

                               "Yes, we should have," he agrees. They could have, too, for Castiel thinks he wouldn't have been opposed to doing this for many years. Since that night in the den of iniquity. But they can't turn back time, and this evening will always hold a very special place in Castiel's heart. "But we have all the time in the world now to do it again and again and again." One of his rare smiles creeps on Castiel's face before he presses a careful kiss to Dean's forehead, and with it a tiny shred of grace that settles deep in Dean's bones and ensures a restful night without bad dreams. "Sleep now. I'll watch over you."

[bloodsalted]

@qapsiel || this was preserved || for posterity and the chance to make cowboy dean go blink blink!

When Dean first wears his cowboy hat for what's supposed to be sexy time, Castiel stares at him like an owl that forgot its glasses. Then he seems to remember something. "Ah," he makes, nodding. "This is a form of foreplay that's called role-playing, correct?"

well, howdy parrrrrrd-ner! time for the lights to go down low! some candles to flicker on the mantle! and this cowboy to come walking more bow-legged than normal into the bedroom looking like he's about to get lucky as hell! dean's eyebrows wriggle mischeivously as hands hook into the loops of a too tight pair of jeans. (god, how do people wear these? damn near felt his balls get put in two separate pants legs once he wriggled all the way in!) takes cas a second to go from dumbfounded to ahhhhh! nothing that wasn't expected. got that locked and loaded, cowboy!

head slowly dips in a nod, corner of his mouth pulls upward as his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. gives his other half a fan of fingers that end up with his pointer jutted towards cas and his thumb sticking up, rest of his fingers curled towards his palm. dean pulls the 'trigger' a couple times on that fingergun with a flick flick.

"damn right, hoss. how long you been in this neck of the woods?" southern drawl weighs thick on his tongue. might'as well be from.. who knows? texas? 'bama? ol' mississippi?? "should'a noticed you by now. fine looking guy such as yourself can get into a lotta trouble in these parts..."

[bloodsalteds]

@qapsiel || location based smut prompts || accepting!

while driving home after a date,  they get too impatient and pull into a parking lot to have sex. (IMPALA SEX OK)

the parking lot of an abandoned drive in? well. sure does set the setting for what dean's got in mind. musta been watching cas drive that got him riled up. (as if he needs a reason). but he gave the angel directions towards the broken road with it's cracks in the pavement letting wildflowers bloom through and then? well. he didn't really have a whole lot of room to do much talking after.

because cas's zipper is down and dean's bent over in the front seat with him in his mouth, sucking against his tip with a quiet groan. they gotta be close to it by now. not that he cares. not with that taste coating his tongue and the moan he lets go warm and quiet over cas's shaft as he pulls back to run his tongue down the length of it.

fingers grip the inside of cas's thigh through his pants. the other set? that's busy spread out over cas's abdomen stroking softly as he feels the car do a jerky turn that's gotta be onto the road off the main highway. they're almost there. he doesn't stop. doesn't give him any reprieve as his lips wrap back around him again and swallow the angel down as far as he can with a soft choke fluffing the edges of his nose out.

fuck. his mind's reeling as he bobs his head in slow, exploratory strokes. tongue pressed tight against the hardening ridge. dean's throat works around the saliva and the overwhelming flavor that he couldn't stop himself from having for the entire ride back. eyelids flutter closed and he sinks into sating the craving that's twisting him up inside. christ. he can't get enough of him. and now that they're doing this? he has every chance to make up for lost time. ...every second of it.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@qapsiel || nightamres & sleeping meme || accepting!

[TUCK] - for sender to find receiver’s muse asleep somewhere and tuck them in with a blanket (or jacket, etc) - he uses his trench coat 🥺

dean's curled up on the sofa of some cheap hotel room. the bed covered in research, ammunition and a mess of other junk that he was too damn exhausted to bat away once he stumbled in for the night. exhaustion made every inch of his body feel heavy enough that each step must've been taken in a pair of concrete boots. his hair was an absolute disaster. a weary body and an even warier mind. only one boot was kicked off and when the other put up too much of a fight? he let it stay on. why argue, he figured. and simply let it have it's way.

he doesn't budge at castiel's entrance. it speaks mountains about the level of safety that he feels from the angel that something internal wasn't triggered in the hunter when someone else entered. much less came close enough that the coat was fanned out and brought down over him like a blanket. dean ends up squirming underneath it. settling in. tucking his chin towards the collar and inhaling deep. his body seems to sink more into the cushions. relaxing further and more solid than he was a second ago without it. the scent lulling him into a place that, perhaps, only it can do.

though when castiel rights himself again. even takes to making a slight distance between them, he's stopped by a hand curling around his wrist. dean doesn't open his eyes. "don't go. stay," comes out groggy. whiskey scented from the swig he had on the way past the table to the sofa. the way he tugs the angel while leaning back into the back cushions says he's making enough room for the two of them to fit if they face one another.

it's a request that doesn't come easy. a trust that comes even less so. but it's here as green eyes crack open. sleep riddled and dream touched before they close again. "with me."

[bloodsalted]

cas's inability to meet his eyes elicits a thrill that he would've devoted so much self-loathing towards seeing should he be the old dean. there's an inward grin that plasters itself, apparently unseen, upon lips that drip nothing but venom. letting him go might make him nicer. take back a few pokes and prods. might. that's such a stretch of the word. isn't it? why should he beg for forgiveness when he's the one that was strapped to a chair and fighting for what he wants while being told he's wrong?

yes! bring him his brother. he'll feed him enough of that logic. touch all the right scars littering sammy's brain and, who knows, with the right amount of coaxing.. poking.. prodding.. appealing? the two of them make so much more PROGRESS towards the bullshit that keeps a chokehold on them all without virtue holding either one back. dean gets it now. what sam spoke of all those years ago. what he denied of his own soul when he was yanked out of the pit and shoved in a coffin. letting go of the tattered soul screaming for repentance? should've done that from the beginning. the question of if he remembers sammy brought back missing a highly essential part of his being? that deserves a knowing smirk and it's a sheer miracle in itself that cas manages to cut him off before the words that're locked and loaded on his tongue are fired.

"never matters what i want.. what we want. long as someone who sees their cause as more righteous, their wants more important, their desperation more aching gets their way. story of our fucking lives." speaking solely to the billowing trenchcoat as cas stalks off to find his baby brother--dean hisses below his breath. lips twist in anger, betrayal. "can't wait to remind him. ol'boy could use a little refresher of exactly why we have so much in common.." is he bluffing? is that fear talking? or is ensuring a veiled threat is an absolute promise? stay tuned and find out!

                             CASTIEL CAN'T KEEP LOOKING AT HIM. It hurts too much to see blackness creep into Dean's eyes and swallow the beloved green, hear him spew such nonsense. And nonsense it is, right? Sam would never break and join the ranks of Hell. He fought Lucifer's torture for hundreds of years and remained strong, remained who he was. Who he always will be. Just why is a snide voice in the back of his head reminding Castiel that those years in the Cage have never involved Dean? They are each other's weaknesses. Dean will do whatever it takes to save Sam, and Sam will leave no stone unturned to help Dean, even if that means losing himself in the process. 

                              But no, no. He can't think like that. It would be too much to bear to lose both of them.

                              "Your brother is strong. Stronger than you give him credit for," Castiel says through clenched teeth. "And he wants you back. The old you. Maybe you can't remember it anymore, but when Sam had lost his soul?" When Castiel forgot about it in the Cage? It doesn't matter that he didn't do it on purpose, or that he never planned to do it, or that he thought he got all of Sam out of there. It's a black stain he'll never get rid of. It will forever lie heavy on his conscience. "He was a better hunter. More ruthless. But you didn't care because it wasn't Sam. And now it's like that again, just the other way around. We want you back. The real you. And we will succeed." Jaw set, shoulders squared, Castiel stares at Dean for another long second before he turns on his heel and stalks out of the dungeon, trench coat billowing behind him.

[bloodsalted]

@qapsiel || dean's birthday inbox || awww!!!

Birthdays are supposed to include everything the birthday boy likes, so Castiel lets Dean sleep in today. He walks Miracle and then drops him off at Sam and Eileen's before he flies to Colorado to get food. It's already a little past 9 when the angel finally decides to wake Dean up with a suckjob. Orgasms are, after all, one of Dean's favorite things, too. Afterward, Castiel sits cross-legged on the bed, watching Dean eat an award-winning peach pie for breakfast and getting crumbs all over the blankets. "When you're finished," Castiel says, absentmindedly scratching his naked thigh, "you need to get dressed. No flannel, though. Something fitting for New York City." He pulls two small rectangular papers from the bedside drawer and hands them over. Two males stare grimly up at them. Daniel Bryan vs. Roman Reigns, it says in large black letters, Madison Square Garden. "Your silly pretend fighters have a fight," (he uses air quotes because he thinks wrestling is a dumb sport), "and I was told it's a big event. Happy birthday, Dean."

waking up the way he did? the winchester would be in a great mood regardless of what day it is. (if you didn't know-- coffee is a far, far second to suckjobs when it comes to amazing ways to wake up!) and, at flrst, he thinks about suggesting they simply spend the entire day in bed--wrapped up in blankets and each other. honestly, it's the best sorta day he can think of. or so he thinks. cause what this birthday boy is about to learn (for damn real this time) is that cas--cas knows birthdays like a god damn pro. (keeps getting better every freaking year, too!)

sitting cross-legged on his bed shoving mouthful after mouthful of pie between his lips, humming happily with after orgasm bed head and crumbs everywhere while watching cas as he thinks something over--curiosity blossoms dangerously bright behind glinting green eyes. when you're finished.. "mmm?" comes the question between bites, head cocked to the side much like the dog that's been handed over to his brother for babysitting duty. gets even worse when cas digs into the drawer. telling him they're going to new york city. s'gonna be fucking cold there but nothing they can't handle. OHHH?! hang the hell on! then..freezes and his mind goes blank when the tickets swing into view. "holy shit!" excitement has him rushing to set the plate off to the side.

"no way!" the tickets carefully next to it. "this is...this is awesome!" crawling over to sit beside cas--who gets pulled into a tight hug and a face full of peppered kisses--he doesn't stop smooching til he's good and done. takes him a minute or so and then ZOOM right back over to the table where he lifts up the tickets. they're freaking shaking. "how'd you? how long've...?" man's speechless excited!!!

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@qapsiel || setting prompts || accepted!

021.   a large hedge maze ,  easy to get lost in .

endless rows of green, taller than he can pinpoint the true height of. they stretch high above his head casting shadows through the maze that stick out like jagged fingers or thick black outlines that lie and say they might guide his way out. he's tuned into that what feels like a day ago. even though time doesn't seem to matter here. he thinks he's seen the sun come up and go down twice. maybe three times. or it all could've been in his head.

stone benches dot the hedges here and there. little places in nooks and crannies that might provide some sort of resting spot. if he had half a mind to rest. or half a mind left in his skull. he's been twisted up trying to find his way out and coming up with nothing. whatever. whoever. has him stuck in here? on some endless path to nowhere? has him not only frustrated but pissed off to hell and back. dean feels like he's in some sort of cage made out of greenery and stone and it's starting to crawl through his veins. through every muscle and bit of sinew and cartilage that winds him all together and makes him him.

fingers come up to scratch against the more-than-five o'clock shadow on his face. dean falls down against plush grass, landing on his rear and letting his head fall back against the edge of the bench. eyes close. and before he knew it? for the first time since he'd run into this thing chasing shadows and nothing more? exhaustion overrode his senses and lured him under enough that it drew him to sleep.

[bloodsalted]

@firstsoncain || a meme continuation || from here.

abandoned, rundown house in the middle of nowhere. impala parked out front. it's a typical sight for dean winchester. though there's no one in tow with him this time. no. he came out here alone. seeking to put to end the lives of a nest of vampires he discovered while out this way on a hunt with sam. one that he never told his brother, or anyone else for that matter, about. this one was personal. call it something of a secret passion of his ever since---well---he was one. the time that it truly dug into him. shook him in more ways than he let on. years ago. it's a kept tight fascination of his. fascination. stupid word for it. he's been secretly obsessed with hunting these bastards down in his alone time. no one knows. it's just easier that way.

least no one knew.. til--well--he was found. standing in the doorway of a room that looks like a complete blood bath (because that's what it is) in front of him and hearing the familiar steps of someone who instantly makes dean's stomach drop to his shoes and beyond behind him? dean feels the blood dripping from his fingertips. a keep honing in on the mess he's made of himself and knows that now.. cain is in on part of his little secret. a crimson slicked hand reaches out. takes hold of the doorknob and he closes the door (blocking the view) before taking a backwards step and turning to face cain. he looks caught. busted. lips open and blood-caked face full of remorse and shock.

there's a long pause between cain's expectant stare and dean's tongue finding the ability to form words. what did you do, cain's silent question is brought to life by his very expression. dean's lips wrap soundlessly over the first few attempts to explain himself before he blurts out...

"....they had it coming. four dead hikers.. tracked their belongings back here. i made sure those poor bastards were the last ones that ended up being dinner. i'm not going off the deep end or anything. if that's what you're thinking.." he's not.

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@hellroyalty || i'm living for this sfm. omg. crowley! || accepting!

" You're making 'the face' again, bestie. What's it this time? " Crowley ofc :D

if you could hear someone's eyes rolling? dean's would sound like one of those old timey airplane tailspin sound effects. loud and whirling. about to go zooming over the sky topsy turvy over and over until it was damn near cartoonish. frustration is evident on his face. cause he's making at least one version of the face of several of his 'the faces'. on the table in front of him? a spread of pages from books. photocopies and ones torn out and saved for later. pieces of puzzles he's trying to splice together and make sense of. but he's doing a terrible job at it. homework. research. he feels like he's drowning in subtext and a hundred miles away from making any sense of absolutely anything. maybe he's just too damn tired. that could be his problem. but he wants to smack his head into gear. wake the hell up. when what he should do. is take a BREAK.

is this heaven? hell? angel? demon? something bigger? badder? scarier? a monster? or a damn leprechaun werewolf that keeps the loch ness monster for a pet? he's studying? his brain's swimming. he just wants answers.

he tosses the demon a glance over his shoulder, barely remembering he was there. or was he? did he just show up? how long's he been here? now there's another face to toss into the mix. but dean seems ready to take that part in stride. because with everything else puzzling the shit out of him? crowley? well. cheers to the least complicated thing in the room at the moment!

"bout to get you served with a court order against stalking," a few of the things he was looking at are put into stacks and shoved into some folders. "it's nothing i shouldn't have stepped back from hours ago when my eyes started to cross. why," his head drops back and he takes in the upside down image of the demon behind him, giving him an uneven CURIOUSLY expectant grin (color his interest piqued), "feeling studious? doubt it. what brings you here?"

[bloodsalted]

@murderdeals || meme town, population so many || zoooom!

"Yeah, I remember when I was like you. Young, dumb, full of… conflicting emotions." Cain

"you say conflicting emotions. i say.. welcome to wrestlemania three hunderd twenty two!! for our first match? in one corner we got avoiding talking about that last part all together. in the other? i'm matching your young and dumb with old and dusty!"

[bloodsaltedshifting]

@tvintedspvrk || bruises and bruising || accepting!

[care] – sender provides physical care for receiver’s bruises (ice pack, wrapping them up, etc) { from jo harvelle ? 👀 }

dean got yanked into a back room of the roadhouse soon as he stumbled on inside. shoulda seen the other guy was right on the tip of his tongue (sam woulda quoted him if he wasn't in just as bad shape and being taken care of in another room) and shoved right down onto a chair with a scrunch of his face and a pout that said hey that hurt without having to say a word. yeah, yeah. showing up at the roadhouse with a bunch of caked, wet, semi-wet and kinda drying blood on his face, neck and various other parts of his body now hidden by a torn up shirt cause his coat was shrugged to the floor in a glare of a command might've warranted this kinda urgent care treatment but--he didn't want her to panic.

"i'm okay... we made it outta there. and the bad guys.. well. they're not bad guys anymore." they're not anything anymore. but a pile of ash and fur and bits and pieces of bone that are ground into ash and dust. no bite marks. no scratches. just dead things that used to go bump in the night but now? more like.. plop and woosh! oh look! he made a joke. in his head. cause the look on her face said he better keep that one locked up in the dean's thinking it but better not sat it category. cause it's close to five o'clock in the morning and she kinda looks like she might've been in bed by the time they wandered in.

no patrons. the sign off. the sun about to be on the horizon.

oh damn.

"great pajamas. the flannel pants look? suits ya. is that a creedence shirt? please tell me i'm rubbing off," he can't see if it is. but he's trying to prove he's alright. just sore. still bleeding a bit and swelling in a couple spots. "just needed a reason to come by and see my favorite lady..."

[seospicybin]

FOLDER 103.

sleep_well.mp4

Bangchan x reader. (S)

A chapter of Folder 103

Synopsis: Chan figures that it's his lucky day when he finds you sleeping naked. (3,6k words)

Author's note: Just something to keep you horny hehe I know you'll enjoy this one x

For Chan, every day is a lucky day with you.

With tons of work always keeping him busy, it's not easy for him to finally have time to spend with you. So tonight, as he's finally able to leave work earlier than he usually does, Chan knows that it's his lucky day.

Even though he knows there'll be no guarantee you'd still be awake when he gets to your place, he considers himself lucky still.

The two of you were still texting an hour ago but with his two last messages left unread only means that you're most likely to have fallen asleep.

Chan lets himself in, tiptoeing his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water before going to the bedroom and finding that you're indeed asleep.

"Baby, I'm home," he lowly whispers and allows himself to place a quick kiss on your head.

He then heads to the bathroom to wash up and change his clothes, then slips into the sleeping attire of a boxer and bare upper body.

He makes sure to keep quiet in everything he does, not wanting to wake you from your slumber knowing that you've just had a tiring day at work. He doesn't know for sure but that's what he feels after getting off work just now.

Somehow, all of exhaustion and weariness seem to magically disappear when he sees your face and it truly feels like he's coming home.

Chan quietly climbs onto the bed and going to slip under the cover with you when he realizes that you're naked underneath.

The two of you have talked about this and it's something you both agreed on before. Going to bed naked is a sign that you consented to engage in sexual activity, sleeping or not.

In other words: it really is Chan's lucky day.

Does this surprise him? No, because it's not the first time that you've done this but it surprises him still. Why? Because here you are, sleeping with your body bare naked and fully entrusting yourself to him in your most vulnerable state.

It's the way you trust him that makes Chan feel loved in a whole different way and that earned you a special place in his heart that no one ever comes close to.

And for that, Chan places a long, lingering kiss on your forehead until his heart bursts with how much emotion he puts into it.

Chan proceeds to go under the cover and lay next to you, carefully resting his hand on your waist. He uses the opportunity to look at your face as long as he pleases, so still and peaceful, unaware of how beautiful you look as you are lost in your dream.

"My baby," he sighs as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"My beautiful, beautiful baby," he emphasizes every word with such love, along with a sweet peck on your lips.

He lets his hand wander as he keeps whispering sweet praises to you. His hand wades your silky skin and makes ripples in your insides.

"So soft, baby," he murmurs with his mouth pressed against the column of your neck.

"How are you so fucking soft all over, mmh?" He asks in disbelief and a sharp intake of breath.

Feeling you is not enough, he wants to see his hand on you. Chan pulls the cover away, exposing your naked body to the chill night air and raising the goosebumps on your skin. He notices and hurriedly rubs his hand down your arms.

"I'll keep you warm, mmh," he mutters with another peck on your lips.

Before he forgets, he takes his phone and starts recording, the camera follows his hand as he explores your miles and miles of soft skin.

He begins from your lips, gliding his thumb over your lower lip. He can't wrap his head around the fact that he can kiss these lips as much as he wants.

He glides his hand down to your neck and carefully wraps his hand around it, he likes how it looks like it belongs there. But that's something he can do another time.

Only using his fingertips, Chan drags them down your chest and rubs over your nipple, watching it harden as he keeps circling on it.

His eyes flick to see your face as you draw a sharp breath and your hand flies to the side of the pillow, still soundly asleep.

A part of him wants to wake you up, wanting to see how you react to his touches and oh, he just wants to hear the noises you make whenever he touches you right.

Another part of him is enjoying this too much but if he wants to continue this, he's aware that he shouldn't disturb your sleep.

He lets out a delightful sigh as he takes in the sight of your heavenly body that he never gets tired of seeing, of touching, of feeling, a body that reminds him that he is the luckiest man.

"Oh, I'm so lucky," he sighs with so much contentment.

Chan glides his hand lower to your abdomen, holding his breath as his hand inches closer to that delicate thing between your legs. Then slowly, he parts your legs open.

He instantly drools at the sight of your ripe cunt making his cock act up in its confine, aching to be inside you. He tells himself to be patient and uses his hand first to feel how tender you are.

It's amazing that even though you're sleeping, your body is fully awake and responding to his touches. He can feel that you're getting wet just from him running his fingers between your folds.

"Mmh, yeah, make it wet for me, baby," his voice drops lower than before.

Once in a while, he checks his phone to see if he gets everything in video. You know how he likes to take videos of you, especially these kinds of videos that always help him cure his longing whenever he can't see you.

After a while, he stops recording and puts his phone aside.

Chan slowly turns your body so you can comfortably lay on your back as he kneels on the bed.

This time, he replaces his hand with his lips, exploring your skin by dragging his plush lips down and around, warm and wet, hot and cold at once. He covers every inch of your skin with small kisses, from your neck down to your ankle.

He picks up his phone again, using the front camera to film himself kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck, and eventually your breasts.

Chan kisses the skin around the hardening buds before taking them into his mouth in turns. Using his tongue and teeth to play with them, then leaves them wet from his saliva.

He hits the pause button on the video as he slumps down onto the space between your legs and hits the record button again.

He films himself kissing your inner thighs and from there, going down to your sex where he traces your clit with his tongue and then kisses it.

It's a smell and a taste that is way too familiar to him and they always make him go feral, never get enough of both.

Chan curves his big arms around your thighs and dives deeper into your wetness, lapping his tongue on your slit repeatedly.

He can see that your breathing is quickening in response to his stimulation and it lets him know that he's doing the right thing.

It feels like a feast to him so Chan opens his mouth wider to take more of you, licking and sucking, enjoying himself in eating you out.

He's aware that you're stirring in your sleep but nothing he does wakes you up so he proceeds to the next thing which is his swollen cock.

But first, he has to get rid of his boxer and let his erection spring free. He then settles himself between your legs again and makes a new video.

"So hard for you, baby," he sighs as he gives his cock a few pumps before running it down your drenched cunt.

His teeth faintly bite his lower lips as he suppresses the urge to jam his cock inside you in this very second.

"Fuck, I'm so impatient to be inside you," he groans.

Using the tip of his cock, he circles your clit and then taps on it. His cock is now drenched in your essence and he expects nothing less than that.

To make sure you're ready for him, Chan inserts his finger to check and adds another finger to help stretch you out for the next thing.

"Mmh, so tight, yes..." he breathlessly gasps, making his throat dry from how thirsty he is for you.

He slowly pulls the two digits out and doesn't hesitate to shove them into his mouth so he can have a taste of you.

"Sweet as you, my angel," he murmurs.

Chan gives his cock a few more strokes before aiming right into your entrance, he checks his phone again and makes sure it's still filming.

With his hand gripping your hips to hold you still, Chan slowly pushes his length inside you. He watches his cock disappear into you little by little through his phone.

"God, fuck, oh..." all sorts of profanity and taking the divine beings in vain are spilling out of his mouth.

He had sex countless times with you but gosh, it always feels this good, every single time. The way your velvety walls welcomed him and wrapped around him, there's nothing like it.

"Oh, oh..." he hisses and groans, sometimes a mix of two as he keeps pushing the remaining length of his cock into you.

He hears you letting out a low sigh and abruptly stops moving to check on you.

"Just a little bit more, okay baby?" He mutters to you as his hand tenderly rubs your abdomen.

He doesn't know why he bothers talking to you when you're not even awake to talk back to him.

"I know you can take a little bit more," he murmurs, then pushes the rest of his length into you.

He grips at your hips again once he fully bottomed out inside you. He can't move without feeling like he's about to shoot his load at any moment.

He takes a minute to calm down, reorganizing his breathing and rubbing his hand up and down your thigh.

"How do you always feel this good, baby?" He sighs in wonder.

It arouses him so much at how still you are with his cock deep inside you and most likely, about to fill you with his cum. That thought only gets him off instead of calming him down.

After taking a few deep breaths, Chan finally dares to move. He moves his hips, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace.

The quiet resides in the room except for the low rustles of the sheets, the sound of Chan's fervent breathing, and the suppressed grunts he keeps behind his gritted teeth.

Seeking more depth, Chan picks up your legs and wraps them around his waist. He slightly hoists the lower half of your body against him so he can thrust deeper into you.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," the profanity keeps falling out of his mouth with each thrust.

He switches between looking at your face and down at his cock slips in and out of you, arousing him even more. He grips your thighs, thrusting harder into you and going as shallow as he could.

Chan is so lost in it, losing his head and all of his senses, making him nothing but a man who's hungry for pleasure and you're the only one who can provide it.

He can feel himself so immersed in the pleasure that his phone slips out of his hand and falls onto the bed, he doesn't even care if it's still recording or not. He just wants to keep fucking you, more and more.

"Fuck, so good!" He says through his parted mouth with his head thrown to the back.

He doesn't realize that he is supposed to not wake you up and abruptly stops when he hears you lowly whimpering with your hands clutching the sides of your pillow.

He hurriedly lowers himself down and hastily kisses your lips with his upper lips coated with a sheen of sweat.

"Did I go too rough, baby?" He meekly asks with his lips only inches away from yours.

He holds your jaw and kisses you more as his apology, "I didn't mean to wake you up," he says.

He moves to the other side of your head, pressing kisses on your neck and trying to make up for waking you up.

"You just feel too good I don't know how to stop," he mutters into your ear.

He doesn't even know if you're awake but he feels the need to apologize to you. He keeps kissing you to calm himself down and when he's sure you're falling back to sleep, he slowly pulls out of you.

Carefully, he maneuvers your body and makes you lay on your side as he lies next to you. He touches you again, sending you deeper into your slumber.

However, his cock is just aching to be inside you again and he indeed wants to continue, he wants to finish, and he still wants you.

He grabs your chin and turns your head at him so he can press a kiss on your lips.

"Promise I'll be gentle this time," he tells you with yet another kiss on the skin behind your ear.

He bends your leg, giving him the access to easily slip his cock into you again. He lets out a hoarse sigh when his cock is fully buried inside you.

"Too good," he mutters with his mouth pressed against your shoulder.

"You're always too good," he mutters again.

Chan cups your ass cheek in his hand, kneading on the flesh as he starts moving, bucking his hips from behind you. He wouldn't hesitate to land a few slaps on it but that's for another time.

It doesn't take long for him to find his rhythm, thrusting into you and picking up where he left it. He pulls your leg higher as he launches his cock deeper into you.

"Oh, I like it here, baby," he says, accidentally sucking on the skin on your shoulder.

From how hard he grips the back of your thigh, Chan knows that his nails dug into the flesh and will probably leave marks on the skin.

He just can't seem to think straight when his head is filled with nothing but how good to be inside you.

Again and again, he fails to keep his composure and wakes you again. This time you're whimpering and moaning at the same time.

"Do you mind if I keep going, baby?" He asks you with his grunt getting in between the words.

You say nothing but stifle a nod in answer and crumple the sheet under your hand.

"Want to fill you," he pauses as he pushes his cock deep into you and makes you whine in response.

"Want to fill you with my love," he says again.

Your hand finds the hand holding your leg and rests it on top of his hand while your head turns to the back and Chan instantly captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

Chan takes your hand and clasps it together with his, putting it close to your heart as he keeps chasing his high with his lips latched with yours.

The room is now filled with both of your shared noises of breathless moans and the smooching sounds of your sloppy kisses.

"A little bit more," he tells you with eyes screwed shut and his mind is close to short-circuit.

"So fucking close," he grunts, planting his lips on your shoulder.

It feels like his whole body is lit on fire but instead of running away, Chan keeps walking toward that flickering, flaming burst of orange.

The next thing he knows, his head blows and he bites at your shoulder as he cums. He keeps pushing his cock into you, wanting to plant his seed deep inside you as his hand rubs your abdomen.

"Take all of me, baby," he whispers into your ear.

He repeatedly kisses your neck only to whisper again, "Take all of my love."

He places a few more kisses on your back shoulders and more sweet nothings are out of his mouth, "Just for you, baby, only for you."

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, coming down from the high and sharing loving kisses in between. Chan lovingly puts your hair away to place sweet little kisses on your jaw, "You can go back to sleep now," he says.

With his cock stays inside, he puts his arm around you and draws you closer. He's cuddling you back to sleep, lulling you with his low breathing and soft kisses.

Not long after that, he finds you sleeping in his embrace and holding his hand close to your chest. He gives you one last kiss on the lips and lets you drift into sleep.

"Goodnight, angel."

-

The first thing you see in the morning is Chan's dark curls and you find it hard to move away when he rests his head on your chest.

You peer down to see that he's sleeping so tight that you feel bad to even think of waking him up so you let him. What's another hour of letting him rest on your chest?

However, when you put your arm around to cuddle him, your fingers nudge something on the bed. You reach for it and take it out from under the cover to see that it's Chan's phone.

You're aware of what he did to you last night, how he fucked you while you were sleeping, and muttered a few things that you can't remember clearly.

It's something you both agreed on so you don't mind feeling sore in the morning and it wouldn't surprise you if you find bruises or bite marks on you.

"You had fun last night, huh?" You mutter at his face and boop his nose.

He looks so adorable with his curls and bare face, sleeping on your chest like a toddler. You can't help but kiss him while brushing the cute duck tails on the back of his head.

"My big baby," you sigh in delight.

Shifting your focus back on his phone, you unlock it to see a video and again, you're not surprised to know that he filmed everything last night.

You check his gallery and he took plenty of videos, the first two are of him touching you and the other two are of him sucking on your breasts and giving you head.

Watching yourself get touched and stimulated without your knowing is kind of arousing, not going to lie.

With your hand still playing with his soft curls, you hit play on the video and it starts with a shot of his cock, then he wrapped his veiny hand around it.

That cock and that hand, and how they're in the right sizes, whoo... never cease to amaze you.

You skip a few minutes on the video to the part where he was thrusting into you, you can hear his low grunts through the phone speaker.

Seeing how he fucked you from something close to his point of view oddly turns you on. Then suddenly, the video turns black but you can hear rustling sounds.

You think the video has ended but you see that there are a few minutes left in the video. You jump into the last ten minutes.

"Take all of me, baby."

"Take all of my love."

"Just for you, baby, only for you."

"You can go back to sleep now, baby."

"Goodnight, angel."

Your memory is kind of blurry but yeah, you still remember him saying those things to you, even the goodnight kiss he placed on your lips and the rest after that, you can't recall.

You hear more rustles in the video and you bring it close to your ear to hear the faint sound of Chan talking to you.

"I love you, baby."

"Thank you for letting me have you the way I want."

"Thank you for trusting me."

"Oh, I love you so much."

"I don't want to be with anyone else."

"You're just perfect."

"You're perfect for me."

You hear kissing sounds in between those sentences and you bet, he does a lot more than that.

"I am the luckiest."

You hear his overwhelmed sighing at the end of that sentence and then it's dead silence. You're about to turn the video off when you hear Chan's voice again.

"I'm so lucky to have you."

Your heart aches in the best way possible to know that someone loves you that much. Despite that you both are always busy with your respective jobs which keep you away from each other, your relationship continuously flourishes and grows.

It wouldn't be possible if Chan wasn't such a good man and very loving. To say that you're lucky to have him would be an understatement.

You are the luckiest to have him.

"And I'm so lucky to have you," you murmur with a kiss on his forehead.

There's no better way to prove that than showing it with actions, you open the camera on his phone and hit the record button.

-

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[shegatsby]

Silent Obsession

Summary; After he became a civilian Bucky's mind, body and soul was trying to adapt to his new life. He swore to himself that he was going to live the rest of his life alone, until he saw her. His distroted mind and broken soul ached to be with her, to be around her all the time. Could he manage it or ruin it for both of them?

A/N: Hey guys! I love writing this so much! Let me know what you think.

This is the playlist I made for the series;

TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Words: 2.387K

Warnings: Stalking, mention of abuse (slight)

Chapter Three

Bucky was as if someone hammered him on the spot where he left his bike before he walked into the store, it was open for 24/7 so she must be on the night shift, was this her daily routine? During the day she was at the flower shop and at night she was at the store, his dark mind was going to places he couldn’t hinder, ‘’Was she sent by the HYDRA?’’ this couldn’t be a coincidence or was it just fate?

The world was getting smaller and smaller these days, as his mind was screaming at him his body was like a marble statue, unmoving. He was leaning on his bike, the treat he got for Alpine in his leather jacket’s pocket. ‘’Why does she have two jobs?’’ he asked himself, was she paying a debt or she had mouths to feed back at home? He could understand that because he was the eldest of 4 siblings, he had to quit school and start working, his father George Barnes had died and he became the man of the house real quick and then he enlisted in the army when the war broke out. ‘’Was she married? No, too young, plus no wedding ring.’’ As he dwelled on these thoughts he watched people go in, buy things and leave the store. From where he was he could see her standing, smiling at every customer, ‘’Does she have to smile to everyone?’’ a whisper behind his ear, ‘’James! Get a grip, she is no one to you, get back home!’’ another whisper. The next thing he knew he stood there, leaning on his bike till dawn, watching her greeting morning worker and giving him the uniform and then leaving with weary shoulders. Her hands in her jacket’s pockets, her brown bag tucked on her shoulder, she was walking, Bucky’s feet started to move, stealth in his steps, his feet had its own mind apparently. She was across him on the other sidewalk so she didn’t notice a thing, one could hear people waking up and the city becoming alive once again with the first lights of the day. Buses were on duty, people were heading to their jobs, life as normal as it could get. She was a strange creature to him, so calm mannered and focused on her jobs, Bucky could sense that she was a hard-working woman and he liked it but also detest it at the same time. She deserved to lay back and take it easy but she must be in a situation where she had to hustle, Bucky bet that she had side hustles as well.  She wasn’t taking any buses or heading to the subway, she was determined to walk back home and so was Bucky. He wanted to see her building, was it a safe place? As they walked the streets he could see that it wasn’t safe, he hated that. He hated that she wasn’t in a safe environment, he hated that she didn’t have someone to look after her. She reached to a building after 20 minutes of non-stop walking, on their separate walks Bucky noticed few things, how she never looked at any shop windows or street food carts, she must be starving but her head was low, was she ignoring the delicious smells or shiny objects on purpose so that she wouldn’t have to buy or dare to want. Bucky knew how scary to dare to want something because it meant hope, and hope was a dangerous thing . Without even looking around her she walked inside through the brown doors of the building, it was similar to Bucky’s building but shabbier, he waited outside for two minutes and then walked in behind her. He was just going to check her mailbox or maybe find out which floor and door belonged to her, was it crazy? He didn’t answer that question and it hung in his mind, screaming at him.

The inside mailboxes were on the wall, just like any other apartment complex, he found her name and

‘’Y/N Y/L/N’’

Her mailbox was empty, he figured that she must be doing everything online and no one sends letters these days other than important governmental forms. He sighed, he wondered which floor and the door was hers, the elevator was out of order so if it was at the top she must be climbing the stairs still, Bucky stopped before the stairs which were covered with a dirty carpet, one couldn’t tell the color anymore. He sighed again and started to climb the stairs, the building had 5 floors, he quickly climbed the stairs, as he reached the 4th floor he heard and saw a door closing, was it hers? His heart was beating wild, what would have happened if she were to just take the trash out and saw him standing there? He slowly approached the door and saw the number, it was 8.

He wasn’t sure if it belonged to her and he was about to leave and he heard sounds, ‘’Where were you?’’ a man said with a gruff voice, he heard some glasses being moved on the floor, ‘’I was at the night shift.’’ And it was her soft voice but this time she sounded more cautious and alert. ‘’You should’ve told me that you got a second job Y/N!’’ the man said clearly unhappy and he sounded young, couldn’t be her father for sure. His hands were in fists, ‘’I’m going to make breakfast.’’ She replied, and then no sound followed. She must be in a relationship and living together in a shitty apartment. His ears were ringing and he  could feel his blood boiling, Bucky waltzed out of that building, not looking back, if he looked back he knew that he would break down the door and ask why was her wrist bruised.

Y/N’s hands were shaking as she made breakfast, bacon and eggs for Leo and cereals for her, she didn’t have appetite lately. She made coffee and poured orange juice as well for him, he was in the shower, as she looked around she saw empty beer bottles on the small living room, he was invading her space for sure. She picked up the empty bottles and threw them in trash, opened the curtains and windows for fresh air to come and cleans her space, ‘’When did we turn into this?’’ she asked herself, a drunk gambler and his bread winner girlfriend. Leo was in debt and it was a lot, in order to hide he came to live with her but she was telling Melanie that Leo was in love with her and moved in with her. What was she suppose to say? That their love died years ago and she was the only escape he could use? She wasn’t exactly getting young and Leo was the only one she had for years…. She sighed in grief of their deceased love and got back to the kitchen which was connected to the living room, it was a small one bedroom apartment. She was almost finished with her cereal when he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he was handsome still with his blonde hair and beard, she used to get butterflies seeing him, she used to forget to breath when she saw him and now all she could think about was the bruise on her wrist. Leo wasn’t like this before, they met in high school, he was the bad boy and she was the nice girl, everyone wondered why Leo was with her, she was getting good grades, respectable young girl… when her parents died Leo was the one who helped her, so she never forgot that, during hard times he was with her but now… things have changed completely. ‘’Huh?’’ Leo’s voice brought back to the reality of her situation, ‘’Nothing, I just zoned out.’’ She replied and smiled but it was a dead one. Leo was too occupied with his bacon and eggs to notice it.

On the other hand, Bucky didn’t remember how he walked back to his bike and rode back home. The ringing in his ear didn’t stop till he reached home and picked up Alpine to calm himself, in chaotic situations or if he ever got triggered he would always pet Alpine, her purring calmed him all the time. ‘’Here Alpine.’’ He said as he got the treat out of his jacket’s pocket and opened the metal can with one quick move, Alpine happily ate the treat and Bucky watched her. ‘’Fuck..’’ he sighed, ‘’She has someone Alpine.’’ He spoke to his cat as usual. ‘’I should stop, shouldn’t I?’’ the cat was eating her delicious treat so he was left with his thoughts on his couch, covered in white fur. He huffed and laid his head back, closed his azure eyes but that didn’t help, he saw Y/N, her smile, her pure face, it was just too much and the fact that he didn’t get any sleep made him feel uneasy, he never slept too much but he needed at least 4-5 hours of it to function properly. Bucky got up, took of his jacket and threw it on the wooden floor and laid on his couch, his flesh arm covering his eyes he tried to get some sleep.

Y/N took a shower, didn’t forget to lock the door. She didn’t want to be disturbed and she knew Leo, no respect for privacy. His presence made her take a quick shower, she used to love getting a shower for a long time but now her body kept rushing her, after shower she wore the clothes she brought in the bathroom, an oversized shirt, baggy shorts, she brushed her hair and dried it. She didn’t have much skincare routine because the products were expensive and she didn’t have a budget to spare right now.. or ever. As she looked at her blurry reflection on the steamed bathroom mirror her mind went back to last night when she saw him. The ‘’Rose Guy’’ it was a nickname Melanie came up with, she chuckled and closed her mouth with her hand immediately, why did she chuckled? ‘’What a coincidence.’’ She said and applied her one and only moisturizer on her face. She wasn’t being honest with herself, ever since she saw him she kept thinking about him, the dark haired and blue eyed stranger looked fascinating to her. He wasn’t a talker unlike her other customers who loved to make small talk with her or Melanie, they loved to tell who were they buying the flowers for or what was the occasion etc. but not him. Something in her hoped to see him again next Monday for roses, when her mind wandered to a place where she was questioning who was the roses for she stopped herself and  got out of the shower, she wanted to sleep before going to the flower shop. Juggling two jobs wasn’t easy and it took a tool on her.

Bucky on the other hand slept for about 2-3 hours and then lifted himself from his couch, Alpine was on the coffee table, watching him, ‘’Hey.’’ He greeted with a rough voice, petted her head and got up, he hit the shower, a quick one and then got dressed, he got his dirty clothes and headed downstairs of the building where the washing machines kept, as he was doing laundry he read a book, he had so many books to catch up and he was reading the Hunger Games, he promised Sam to read the books first and then watch the movies. He was halfway through it and he enjoyed it very much, a messed up society where tributes have to fight to death to win a prize, it sounded very interesting to him. As he was reading he imagined Katniss as Y/N, they were both strong women who have to be tough and get by. He huffed and placed the book aside when his laundry was clean and dry, he got his clothes back and headed upstairs. On his way he saw Mr. Nakajima, ‘’James! Lunch?’’ the old man asked, ‘’Sure Mr. Nakajima, let me put these and I’ll meet you there.’’ The old man nodded and reached for the elevator, he remembered the time where he first met, the elevator wasn’t working and no one was doing nothing about it so he took the liberty and fixed it himself. He was handy with anything, of course he didn’t tell anyone that he fixed it himself and over the months when the washing machines made a problem he tended them, the only good thing came out of HYDRA was his knowledge of fixing things and it came in handy these days.

As he got dressed he headed out, to meet with Mr. Nakajima and eat lunch at their favorite Japanese place which he visited yesterday. Leah was there, talking to him and he entered the place. ‘’Here is your buddy.’’ She announced which made the old man look over his shoulder, ‘’Great! I’m starving.’’ The man said and Bucky sat next to him. They didn’t have to order because Leah knew their classic lunch order so they decided to catch up and the topic came to Bucky being alone. ‘’You should be with someone,’’ Mr. Nakajima said, ‘’Everyone needs someone James.’’ Bucky knew the old man had no ill intentions and just saying this opinions and he was right, the problem was to trust and let your guard down and that wasn’t something he could imagine himself doing and the fact that he was the Winter Soldier and committed number of violent crimes including Mr. Nakajima’s son’s death.. Bucky was intent on being single. He didn’t want anyone to crumble under the burden of his petrifying past. ‘’Don’t you find anyone attractive, boy?!’’ Mr. Nakajima protested and Bucky’s weary head immediately pulled up an image of her, Y/N…

‘’What if I do?’’ he found himself asking which made the old man smile, ‘’Who? Is it Leah?’’ he was excited, one could see. Bucky shook his head as no because Leah just brought their lunch and left with a smile. ‘’Then who?’’

‘’You don’t know her.. to be honest neither do I…’’

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Chapter Four