justkending
justkending
I'm Just Kending. Kinda... Not really ;)
1K posts
I write when I can. Supernatural. Marvel.Dean Winchester, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes writer. Request are closed at the moment, but I will get to the ones sent in when I can! xoxox Wattpad: justkending 26 years old. She/Her.Masterlist
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justkending · 8 days ago
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Slowly but surely getting this series rewritten, and I got to say... I'm LOVING this version 1000x better.
I always go back and reread the series, but with this being one of the first ones I ever wrote, the writing is CRINGY as SHIT and so fucking cliche and predictable. Anyway, all that being said, I hope that if you ever read this series, you'll come back and revisit it. It's coming together much more organically, and I can definitely see the difference and growth in my writing, and what a bittersweet thing🥲
Ok, enough of that. After rewriting the last two chapters, I can say that the ending is going to be a touch different than last time, is it sorta feels like I get to write a whole new story (to an extent).
To those of you who are reading, Chapter 20 and 21 are new and updated❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
One Night Flame Masterlist
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Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Series Summary: Y/N Carter is a 3rd grade teacher, who is bouncing back from a toxic relationship that’s changed her in more ways. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
A/N: Currently on a series rewrite. Please know that any chapters without the ((Rewritten) next to it may still follow the storyline, but writing styles have changed and will differ from what’s to come. (The characters written about, are not my own. Copyright goes to Supernatural and Warner Brothers.)
Chapter 1  (Rewritten)   Chapter 16  (Rewritten)
Chapter 2  (Rewritten)   Chapter 17  (Rewritten)
Chapter 3  (Rewritten)   Chapter 18  (Rewritten)  
Chapter 4  (Rewritten)   Chapter 19  (Rewritten) 
Chapter 5  (Rewritten)   Chapter 20  (Rewritten)   
Chapter 6  (Rewritten)   Chapter 21  (Rewritten)                
Chapter 7  (Rewritten)   Chapter 22
Chapter 8  (Rewritten)   Chapter 23 
Chapter 9  (Rewritten)   Chapter 24 
Chapter 10 (Rewritten)  Chapter 25
Chapter 11 (Rewritten)    Epilogue 
Chapter 12 (Rewritten)   
Chapter 13 (Rewritten)                     
Chapter 14 (Rewritten)                     
Chapter 15 (Rewritten)                       
Last updated: June 17th, 2025
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justkending · 10 days ago
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Loved it!!💙 For Spanish being your first language, I think this was really well done! Thank you so much for participating and I hope you have a wonderful week!!
XOXOXOXOX
What is not said
Title: What is not said.
Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.
Ship: Steve Rogers X Mutant!Reader.
Word count: 512 words. 
Rating: Teen.
Summary: You’re mad at Steve.
Major Tags: Angst, arguing, jealousy, tense romance, sarcasm, slow reconciliation.
Additional tags: My entry to @justkending Birthday Writing Challenge! with the prompt:
“Stupidity is not a crime, unfortunately... so feel free to leave.”
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish, so I wanna improve my writing skills in English. Please let me know if you notice any mistakes, and I will correct them.
I don’t grant permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or in other languages (I translate my work) or for using my graphics (my dividers are included).  I created them exclusively for my fics; please respect my work and refrain from stealing it. Some people here make dividers that anyone can use; mine is not this type, so please look for the other people’s dividers. The only exceptions are those I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.  
If you like it, please vote, comment, give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @real-fbi @caplanbuckybarnes @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @azulatodoryuga @endlesstwanted @patzammit @kmc1989
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Semi-destroyed facilities of the New Avengers. New York. Dusk, post-battle.
The hallway smelled of smoke and burnt concrete, and every step you took echoed in your bruised ribs. Dried blood on your brow. Your hands were shaking from the discharge of energy you had channelled hours before. Your powers were drained. And your patience... too.
Steve was coming after you.
“Wait.”
“Don’t.”
“Please listen to me.”
“I've heard enough from you, Rogers.”
The metal door leading to the medical area was sagging, hanging on a single hinge. You stepped through the gap without even looking back. But he walked in with you. You walked straight to the mirror and saw your ruined reflection: cuts and ashes on your neck. He was behind you. As always. Like a shield arriving late.
“I didn't want you to get hurt.”
“Then you wouldn't have left me alone on the roof against three Sentinels, would you?”
Steve looked down. He pursed his lips. His jaw worked as if he wanted to punish himself with every unspoken word.
“I thought you could handle them.”
“Did you think so, or was it more important to keep protecting Wanda?” you asked, feeling the rage.
He looked up, surprised.
“Is this about Wanda?”
“No, Steve! It's about you... You always think you know what's best. For everyone. For me.”
“I just wanted to…”
“Save me? Take care of me? Send me away when it gets bad, like I'm a scared civilian?”
“You are not replaceable for me.”
“So why am I the first one you send to the back when something blows up?” 
Silence.
“You are... important to me," he said, and it sounded so inadequate that you almost laughed.
“Important?” You folded your arms, hurt. “I put my life on the line for you and the team, and all I get is a dry comment and a blank stare when things get personal.”
Steve took a deep breath. He took a step toward you.
“I... I don't know how to handle the way I feel about you. If something happens to you, I don't know what I would do. And that makes me act like an idiot. I know it does. “You stood still. Breathing through your nose. Gritting your teeth. And then you said it. In the most sarcastic voice you could.
“Stupidity is not a crime, unfortunately... so feel free to leave.”
Steve blinked as if you had slapped him. You didn't respond. You didn't look at him. You turned your face toward the mirror, turning your back on yourself. Until you felt his trembling hand brush your shoulder in fear.
“I don't want to leave. Not again. Not if you're hurt, and I... I wasn't where I was supposed to be.”
You turned around. Slowly. And you really saw him for the first time since the rage took over. There was dust in his hair. A cut on his eyebrow. 
“Then stop making decisions for me," you whispered.
“Promise.”
“And if you dare to leave me aside again?”
“I'll deserve it if you freeze me with your powers for a whole month.”
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justkending · 18 days ago
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Ugh, I love this! Great writing and short and sweet! I’d be interested in seeing more to this story🥰 thanks for participating love❤️❤️❤️
What Comes Back from the Fire
Title: What comes back from fire.
Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.
Ship: Steve Rogers X Mutant!Reader.
Word count: 338 words. 
Rating: Teen.
Summary: Years after the Blip Steve thought he'd lost you forever. Until he sees you.
Major Tags: Angst, arguing.
Additional tags: My entry to @justkending Birthday Writing Challenge! with the prompt:
“Hold on. You died...”
“Yeah, well. It didn't stick."
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish, so I wanna improve my writing skills in English. Please let me know if you notice any mistakes, and I will correct them.
I don’t grant permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or in other languages (I translate my work) or for using my graphics (my dividers are included). I created them exclusively for my fics; please respect my work and refrain from stealing it. Some people here make dividers that anyone can use; mine is not this type, so please look for the other people’s dividers. The only exceptions are those I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.  
If you like it, please vote, comment, give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @real-fbi @caplanbuckybarnes @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @azulatodoryuga @endlesstwanted @patzammit @kmc1989
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The sky was tinged with red.
Explosions to the east. Fire in the distance. One more battle, another field burned by war. Steve ran, shield on his back. It was another day, another hell.
Until he saw you.
He could not breathe.
The figure moved through the rubble, helping injured civilians up. Hair was longer. There was dust on the cheeks and dried blood on the forehead. But he would recognize you among a thousand shadows.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
You turned, as if you had felt his gaze, and your eyes met. He blinked. His heart thumped in his chest with a force he hadn't felt since... since you died.
“Hold on. You died...” he murmured, without moving, without air, as if he feared that if he said anything louder, you would disappear. You stared at him.
“Yeah, well. It didn't stick."
The world seemed to stop.
For a second, there were no explosions. No fire. No death. Just the two of you.
Steve took a step toward you. Then another. Until he had you in front of him. He hesitated. He raised his hand as if he couldn't believe it was real. His fingers brushed your cheek.
“You are real..."
“As real as someone who came back from hell can be."
He closed his eyes. He lowered his head. His forehead rested against yours.
“I didn't know how to go on without you."
“I didn't either. But I didn't die at all, Steve. I was trapped. Somewhere between life and death... because of who I am. For being a mutant."
He held you by the arms, not letting them wobble. As if he feared that if he let go, you would disappear like ashes in the wind.
"How long were you...?"
“Three years in a coma. One in hiding. One more looking for a way to be me again. You didn't get any news because... no one wanted you to know. They wanted to protect you from a false hope."
“Who decided?"
“Me."
Silence.
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justkending · 2 months ago
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One Night Flame. Chapter 19.
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Series Summary: Y/N is a 3rd grade teacher, who had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Word Count: 3200+
Chapter 19: (Rewritten 4/26/25)
I didn’t realize how nervous of a flyer Dean was until we made it to the airport. Once security was cleared, his bouncing knee and the biting of his thumbnail as he anxiously looked out to the tarmac confirmed this wasn’t just a slight anxiety, but this was a full-on fear.
“Dean…?” I say, placing a hand on his knee as he is gazing outside, and my touch brings him back down to earth.
“Huh, yeah? What’s wrong?” he says, sitting up and looking at me with raised eyebrows as if I were about to be taken from him any second.
Keep reading
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justkending · 2 months ago
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I just read your "However Many Tomorrows it Takes" oneshot and oh my gosh I loved it so much. It kind of gave me this other idea I was wondering if you would be interesting and willing to do; enemies to lovers with the trope of "I had nowhere else to go". Read and bucky hate each other, they don't trust each other but are both avengers and forced to work together. (maybe reader was ex hyrda or something against her will but he didn't know all the details, or maybe he hates how reckless she is, idk) and one day on a solo mission or something she gets hurt severely and the closest place to go is Bucky's place where he lives away from the compound when he doesn't have an active mission?
Idk. Sorry it's so long lol. It's an idea that has been floating around in my head for a while and the scenario I have played out in my head as I try to sleep lol. I was tryna decide between writing it myself or someone else, but I love your writing a lot so I figured I would request that lol.
First off, you’re the sweetest and I’m glad you enjoyed it🥰 You should also ready It’s just a Paper-cut, one-shot I did before this one. It’s another enemies to lovers/ injuries reader trope :)
As for the request, I’d love to write that! I’m not sure when I’ll have time, but don’t worry! I WILL get to it eventually. Again, thank you for the request and the message of support❤️
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justkending · 2 months ago
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#rewritten
One Night Flame. Chapter 18.
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Series Summary: Y/N is a 3rd grade teacher, who had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Word Count:  2400+
Chapter 18: Rewritten 4/12/25
Another month with Dean had passed. It was mid-July, and my principal sent me to an educational conference in southern California for five days. 
It was day four, and tomorrow would be our last day before catching a flight home. However, as much as I missed Dean and my friends back home, I was really enjoying the slight vacation away from home, even if it was work-related. It’d been a minute since I’d traveled far out of state besides going home, and I was using every spare minute away from the conference to venture around the new town. 
“I looked up Temecula today, finally,” Dean says on Facetime while propped up on the bathroom counter as I fixed pieces of my hair from today’s wear. He lets out a low whistle while his face is angled towards his work computer. “Fancy sm-ancy." 
Keep reading
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justkending · 3 months ago
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However Many Tomorrows it Takes. (One-shot)
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Summary: It's not a big deal? People get shot on the job all the time. We patch it up and move on. So why is he so adamant that I don't make a few jokes here and there? Is it really that serious-? Apparently, it is.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: As requested, another angsty, injury, one-bed trope, Bucky fic :) Enjoy, and let me know what you think! ❤️‍🔥
________________
“Is that blood?” 
“No?” 
“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”
I look to Bucky, blinking a few times, and he stares at me with a raised eyebrow. 
“Yes?...” I follow with as if not sure what the correct answer was. 
“Dear God, how much blood have you lost to be this stupid?” he grumbles, moving to me and quickly assessing the damage, even if he doesn’t know the spot of my wound. 
“Hey now. Can’t blame a girl for trying to curve an obvious disappointment glare you were winding up,” I retort, having my arm harshly raised so he can get a better look at my side. “Hey! I’m fine!” I argue, snatching my arm back down and giving him a look. “Stop that.” 
“You’re. Bleeding,” he says it loudly and slowly as if I’m hard of hearing, but I know it’s just him playing into the fact of his joke early that I would have to be incoherent to not realize the depth of the problem at hand. 
“Thanks, Einstein. I thought I was just sweating red sticky liquid,” I smack his hand as it reaches for my side again. “Cut it out!”
“Stop acting like a child,” he grumbles, and I step back, getting another long glare from him, showing me his patience is soon to be extinct. “Let me see-”
A loud shout down the alley on the city outskirts, where we were working, brought both of our attentions ahead. 
“We can role-play doctor and patient later. We have bigger things to check off on our to-do list,” I say, starting to jog backwards, wincing at the sharp pain on my back, and as Bucky runs alongside me, he gives me a judgmental look. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay alive so you can ridicule me about my life decisions later. I know how much you love that after a mission,” I chuckle, hiding the new wince that threatens to take over my features as I turn and run full force to another hiding spot, trying to get away from the guards we set off on our heist.
We managed to make it back to our hideout, and while Bucky chatted on the phone with Steve, he made me promise to shower and change so he could check my wound after he was off the call. 
“Don’t overdo it,” he warned, phone still up to his ear as he positioned it away from his mouth and pointed a finger at me. 
“Don’t play mama bear, it’s annoying,” I say, pointing to him the same way as I leave the room. 
We were in a disheveled apartment flat slightly in the city limits- a good distance from our mission point. It didn’t have much as it was a safe house for temporary cover and reset, but it had a working shower, a mattress on the floor, and a few necessities to stay a night or two if needed. 
If we were lucky and on the right track, we wouldn’t need to stay the night, but until we got reports back from Steve about how successful our infiltration was, we weren’t sure how long we’d be here yet. My hope? A few hours. Likelihood? Longer than that…
“Steve says they received one of the files we sent from the lab, but they’re waiting on the next one to come through. Should be in the next hour, but if not-” he says, walking down the hall and turning into the one room the place had, he sees me in front of a mirror, trying to see the bullet wound on my back. “You were shot?!” he says in surprised terror as he stomps in quicker to the room. 
“Grazed. I was grazed,” I correct, focusing on trying to get a better angle, but before I know it, I’m being gripped by the waist and turned in Bucky’s hands as he squats down to get eye level with it and holds me steady. “Hey now!” I say almost losing my balance in the switch-up, but his hands are secure and strong, keeping me in place. 
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” he says through his teeth as he grabs my hands and forces me to hold my shirt up so he can examine it better. 
“Because we were kinda running for our lives,” I answer with a sigh and slouch in my spot as I hold my shirt up bunched above my stomach. 
He grumbles something under his breath and stands guiding me to the wooden chair I’m not sure is 100% stable, and sits me in it softly before leaving the room. 
“What’s happening?” I ask dumbfounded to being politely manhandled. 
I shouldn’t be surprised, considering he gets like this each mission, but luckily, it’s been a few years since I’ve had an injury as such, and he was around for it. Usually, I’m on missions with others, and considering that we have a nitpicking and annoyed forced friend kind of bantering going on constantly, I still figured he’d tell me to slap a band-aid on it and call it a day. It’s what he does for himself…
He comes back in with a first-aid kit in hand, the scowl permanent on his face as he steps into business mode. 
“Keep your shirt up,” he instructs, opening the white plastic container and rifling through it for the appropriate medical tools. 
I don’t really fight it as I know it’s pointless. Besides, I have nothing better to do as we wait to hear if we’re stationed for the night, or if we are making a 6-hour flight home soon. 
“Like I said, it’s just a graze,” I say as he grabs a sanitizing wipe and sprays it with disinfectant. “The healing process won’t be bad,” I say, looking down as he brings the doctored gauze strip to the cut, and I take a breath in, knowing the sting to follow. 
When I grit my teeth ready for the discomfort that follows, I don’t expect his hand to rest on my knee in silent assurance and support as he presses it, and the slight distraction makes the initial sting numb. 
I look down at him, and he’s focused on the cut, being gentle and not at all abrasive like he’s been stomping around here and demanding. 
It’s quiet as he fixes me up, squeezing my knee before another sting occurs. As he’s applying the biggest bandaid in the kit over it (a touch overkill if you ask me), he looks up at me, arm resting on his knee where he’s been squatting the entire time. 
“Do me a favor. Stop getting shot. It stresses me out,” he says with a straight face, but a hint of genuine concern is laced in there. 
As he goes to stand, I sigh and playfully reply, “Well, if you don’t like it...” 
“No one likes it,” he says, wiping his hands on a cloth, looking over his shoulder with a warning look. 
Ok. Serious Bucky is still here even after the danger has been evaded. 
I sigh, putting my sarcastic personality to bed for the night. You can only fake that you’re unbothered for so long before people see through it. Bucky is a ‘people’. Bucky has always been ‘people’ when it comes to me. For whatever reason that is… I have no clue. We’ve always kinda… budded heads? I don’t know how to explain it because it’s temperamental most the time. However, it’s a known fact on the team, that the battle of stubborn asses will likely come into play if we’re around each other long enough. Seems the battle is itching for a start. 
“Ok, you know you can play along, right? You don’t have to be so uptight,” I roll my eyes, adjusting my shirt and moving to my bag for my sweatshirt. The flat doesn’t have great sealing on the windows and doors. It’ll likely be a cold night. 
“Or you can take the fact you got shot seriously and not kid around about it,” he responds, grabbing the first aid kit and organizing it. He was an organizing fiend when he was upset or needed to hone his energy somewhere else so he wasn’t in his head too much. 
The compound's pantry and spice cabinet? Pristine almost always, by the way. 
“Or you can recognize this isn’t life or death and we say, ‘Hm, that sucks. Good thing no one's dead or dying. Call it a plus,’ and move on with our day,” I argue back. 
He rolls his eyes as he winds a roll of gauze and looks at me from the side. “You. Were. Shot,” he says again in that slow, demeaning tone. 
“Obviously, I know,” I growl. “I. Felt. It.” 
He narrows his eyes at my unphased demeanor and the way I mock his tone. 
“What’s so wrong with a person worrying about you, huh?” he questions with an investigative look, stepping towards me where I’m sitting on the bed that’s less than a foot off the ground, forgoing the kit. 
“That’s not the problem,” I scoff, digging in my bag to avoid eye contact. 
“Then what’s the problem?” I can feel him standing over me, arms crossed in his intimidation tactic. Can’t work if I’m not looking, right? 
“Problem is you overreact.”
“I’m not overreacting. You were shot.” 
“As you’ve said only a hundred times in the last hour. Care to make it 101?”
When I don’t hear a witty response, I look up, seeing him staring down at me with what I can’t decide is distaste, pure fiery annoyance, or pity. Only one of those I’m slightly ok with. 
“Silent treatment? Kay, cool.” I shrug and grab my sweatshirt, throwing it over my head. “I’m going to go make a sandwich and wait for Steve to call back. Hopefully, we’re not here much longer.” 
I can hear the short scoff he lets out of his nose as I pass him and move back to the kitchen space while he gets changed himself. 
Twenty minutes later, showered and new like me, Bucky comes in and sits across from me in the mismatched chair paired with a table that looked to be built by a two-year-old. 
“Careful, splinter galore over there,” I motion to the side of the table where I purposefully moved away from. “Hungry?” I ask, nodding to the minimal ingredients as I take a bite of the sandwich. 
“No.” His arms are still crossed, and he’s still glaring at me from over the counter. 
“‘Kay,” I shrug and stay on my phone as I eat and scroll through social media, waiting for Steve’s notification. 
Did you know Bucky can stare at you for hours without moving and make you uncomfortable in your seat just by his presence? Well, he does. And he’s doing it right now. 
“Twenty-seven minutes, Barnes. That’s how long you’ve been glaring at me without breaking,” I say, never breaking my concentration from scrolling on my phone through the pictures that Nat sent a while ago in the group chat. “Going for a new record?”
“Can you not make everything a joke for one second of your life?” he grits after a minute, and when I look up, I see he’s genuinely upset. 
I blink a few times and scrunch my face at the change up, and lock my phone, leaving it on the table as I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. 
“What’s up with you-”
“What’s up is you don’t seem to have any regard for your life,” he cuts me off, looking away as he takes a breath and runs his hand through his hair. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and it freaks me the hell out that you don’t seem to take it seriously.” 
“We all have different ways of responding-” I start again, my eyes narrowed as he calls me out on it. 
“I’m not negating that,” he says, holding a hand up, still not looking at me. “My concern is one day it’ll be far more serious, and you won’t speak up or you’ll downplay the fuck out of it to not be a bother to others.” 
What the hell- How did he know…?
“That’s not-” 
“Don’t you dare even finish that fucking lie,” he holds a finger up to me with a warning look that I’m not stupid enough to take lightly so I shut my mouth, but continue to glare. “Y/N, you were shot today. Shot. And yes, I know it was a graze and comparable to a mosquito bite, given the injuries we’ve sustained throughout our careers, but it’s serious nonetheless. You getting hurt is serious.”
I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’m curious where he’s going with this. Curious and slightly scared he’s seeing through me like a damn cellophane wrap. 
“Be honest with me,” he crosses his arms again when I don’t give him a quip back, and he knows he has the floor. “Do you see yourself as a burden or inconvenience when you get hurt on missions?” 
Ok. Getting straight into the hardhitters and not even easing into the topic. 
My only answer is more narrowing of my eyes as I begin to build a wall, I think he’s already prepared for. 
“Eh, be honest,” he says, raising one eyebrow in challenge. 
I hesitate. I don’t want to give him the reward of being right at all, let alone so soon. “Majority of the time that we’re on missions, there are more important things,” I answer vaguely, but the real answer in that response is, “I don’t see myself as a priority as much as others or other aspects towards the missions.” 
He seems to see right through it, and his face relaxes somewhat. Sympathy instead of frustration comes through his eyes. 
“You are important,” he says simply, never breaking eye contact with me. “How could you not be?”
My scowl eases from my face, and I blink in surprised confusion. 
“I-I know that,” I say, having to clear my throat because I didn’t even believe that. “I know that.” I try again, and this time it sounds like words you’ve said a million times, and now they feel wrong.
His face fell in pity, and that’s when I drew the line. I clear my throat again, standing quickly and straightening my clothes. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. Let me know if Steve calls.” I exit the room as fast as I can before he can argue for me to stay and talk.
____
I must have dozed off pretty soon after getting the bed made up and ready, in case we ended up staying the night because the mission wasn’t done. 
But when I woke to the bed dipping and the single lamp on Bucky’s side turning off, I came to the conclusion we were stuck here for the night. 
I’m as close to the edge on my side of the queen mattress when he pulls the covers over himself, and I feel the change as the sheets come up to cover me more, too.
“Not done?” I ask, meaning the mission. 
“Not done.”
“How long?” 
“Second file still needs to be obtained. We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. Don’t worry about it right now.” 
I turn, shifting to sit up, but his hand wraps around my waist gently and pulls me close to his body heat. “Bu-”
“I said don’t worry about it,” he repeats, taking in a deep breath as he rests his head on top of mine and wraps me into him as the little spoon to his big spoon. 
I don’t even question it because this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to share body heat to keep warm. We’re lucky the flat was supplied with clean sheets and a giant comforter, but the single other blanket didn’t do much to shield us from the cold European fall nights. 
But considering how much he seemed to see through me, I felt vulnerable tonight. And his touch… Felt more protective than usual. 
“My feet are cold,” I say softly and almost childlike when I recognize both he and I are bundled in all the warm clothes we have packed, but the socks on my feet aren’t enough to help still. 
“They always are,” he mumbles into my hair before moving his leg to capture mine and tangle our limbs under the covers, perfectly positioned to warm my frigid toes. Once he’s happy with the positioning, he lets out a deep breath and says. “There. Now, go to sleep, Y/N. Our problems will still be a thing in the morning.” 
“Which problem are you hinting at?” 
“All of them.” 
“Well, yes, I know, but which one are you actually talking about, because there’s a big elephant in the room making me anxious because knowing you, you’ll start something about me not-” A hand covers my mouth while his other wraps tighter around my stomach, pressing my back to his chest, careful, however, to not irritate my wound. 
“However many tomorrows we have, Y/N, I will continue to solve the problem that is you not seeing yourself as a priority or important piece to this world. And if one morning you finally wake up and realize just how true that is,” his mouth is next to my ear, my hair being the only things keeping his lips from grazing it. “Then we can move on to solving all the other world’s problems, ok?”
I’m shocked yet not. Taken aback by the sheer genuineness, yet not. He’s being honest. Bucky doesn’t say or promise things lightly when it comes to his passion and affection for those he cares about. 
And sure, we poke and claw at each others nerves, but I know and he knows, we’d take a bullet for the other if the situation called for it. No hesitation. 
And to hear him say it, in such non-surface level way, left no room for uncertainty that he meant it.
“Why do you care so much?” I say so softly, “About me,” almost followed but stayed stuck in my throat like my innerchild was asking the question she so desperately needed the answer to. 
Bucky’s hand had moved to rest across my shoulder practically strapping me to him with both arms now and he relaxed fully. 
“Because I always have and I don’t plan to stop... Not when it comes to you. Goodnight, Y/N…” 
That was all my soul needed to hear before I was pulled into the most peaceful and comforting night of sleep I’ve had in a very, very long time…
If you've asked to join any of my tags and I haven't yet, please send me an ask! I lose track sometimes. :)
Marvel Tags:
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My Lovelies Forever:
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Bucky Barnes Tags:
@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes
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justkending · 3 months ago
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Hello! I just read your "Just a Papercut" story and I LOVED it! I was wondering, only if you are taking requests and interested in this idea, if you could write another Bucky Barnes x Reader enemies to lovers fic? Idk why but that trope is my absolute favorite. Especially when it's nice and angsty and the characters actually have an initial distaste for each other and slowly develops into attraction. Something with peril and injury/comfort maybe? Anyways, love your writing!!
Hello beautiful! I'm so glad you loved it. It still blows my mind how many people have interacted with it, but I'm so happy to write stories that people can relate to or seek comfort in.
Funny you should mention more stories like that one... I'm currently looking at some dialogue prompts to get another short story out since I've missed writing umongst all the chaos surrounding this time of the year for me. That being said, keep an eye out soon for something! And if you haven't read my recent short series following the same vibes you described above, give Mr. & Mrs. Hunt a go ;)
❤️❤️❤️
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justkending · 3 months ago
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hello!! happy belated(?) birthday!
im new here but I'd like to participate, but I just have onee question, this is an xreader rightt? and is smut okie dokie?
thankyous alsocanwebemootspls
- 🥀 hana
Hello and welcome!! Yes, xreader is preferred, just do whatever you feel best for your story :) and smut is a-okay 😏
Can’t see what you come up with friend🩷🩷🩷
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justkending · 3 months ago
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UPDATED!!! Also... I may or may not be getting more comfortable with writing smut 😏 More to come ;)
One Night Flame. Chapter 17.
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Series Summary: Y/N is a 3rd grade teacher, who had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Word Count: 2600+
Chapter 17:
Dean did precisely what he said he would. For two whole months, he ‘courted’ me.
Without putting a label on it, making sure I didn’t feel rushed and 'actually fell for his charm as he pulled out all the stops,’ as he so graciously put it. We eventually made it official and put the boyfriend and girlfriend label on it a week into March.
Now, three months later, we are celebrating our three-month anniversary of those labels, and apparently, Dean had something planned, knowing I would have a chaotic day as it was the last day of school. And by God… I’m emotionally, physically, and mentally drained. I’m more than happy to turn off my brain and let him take the reins tonight.
Keep reading
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justkending · 3 months ago
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Happy birthday! 🎉🎊🎁
Thank you thank you❤️❤️❤️
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justkending · 3 months ago
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Happy Belated Birthday!!!
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I didn't realize that you had tagged me in your birthday writing challenge... I don't get on tumblr or check my email a whole lot these days. I will definitely be coming back to enter your challenge. I might be a little rusty, but I definitely want to get back into writing.
Once again, Happy Belated Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈
Thank you soooooo much sweet friend!!🥰
I completely understand on the inactive part. I hope you do find something to spark your creative side though❤️❤️❤️
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justkending · 3 months ago
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Finally got around to updating this chapter! God. I was really struggling with this one. But now I think I'm over that hurdle, I can get a few more chapters out soon!
One Night Flame. Chapter 16.
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Series Summary: y/n Carter is a 3rd grade teacher, who just had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Word Count: 3400+
Chapter 16:
“I’m falling hard for you, and I can say confidently that it doesn’t scare me.”
Those words stun me and leave me blinking slowly up at him. Ten hours? Perhaps 24? Not sure how much time passes before he laughs and smooths the crease between my brows, his hand lingering as he continues to play with my hair casually as if he didn’t just confess something I’ve been worrying about.
“The gears, they’re working hard, aren’t they?” he chuckles lightly, still brushing his thumb over the spot between my eyebrows.
Keep reading
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justkending · 3 months ago
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Justkending Birthday Writing Challenge!
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Hello friends! Today is my birthday, and I was planning on doing this at the beginning of the week and calling the deadline today but ultimately lost track of time. But still! I would love to do a little writing challenge amongst my readers who have grown over this last year, and I want to acknowledge y'all's talent :)
Here are the rules:
Choose a writing prompt by sending me the number and the character you are writing for.
Here are the characters to choose from: (Feel free to ask if you have someone else in mind; these are just the ones I read about and know well.)
Bucky Barnes
Steve Rogers
Dean Winchester
3. Do whatever story you please with the prompt given. (Add warnings if needed please.)
4. Please tag me in the story, and I will add it to a masterlist of everyone's completed stories. This way, you can show your talent, and I can share it on my platform of like-minded people :)
5. Have fun with it! Even if you are not an experienced writer or feel as though you haven't practiced enough, this is the perfect opportunity! I personally have been stuck with writer's block the last few months, and sometimes prompts like these help me get something on paper.
Prompts:
"Is that a threat?" "Did it sound like a compliment?"
"All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes."
"Over my dead body!" "Well, go lay down and die then 'cause I'm not going to be told what to do."
"I didn't catch your name!" "I didn't throw it."
"Go fuck yourself." "Right now, or can I get some privacy?"
"I'm surrounded by idiots." "But at least we're hot, though, right?"
"Please stop getting shot. It stresses me out." "Well, if YOU don't like it..."
"Hold on. You died..." "Yeah, well. It didn't stick."
"Do you trust them?" "No, but I trust their anger."
"I'm forgetting something..." "Morals, probably." "No, it's something important."
"You have your entire life to be a jerk. Why not take today off?"
"Do your parents even realize they're living proof that two wrongs don't make a right?"
"I can eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a better statement than whatever it is you just said."
"You're about as useful as a screendoor on a submarine."
"I was hoping for a battle of wits, but it would be wrong to attack someone completely unarmed."
"Stupidity is not a crime, unfortunately, so feel free to go."
"You're the living embodiment of 'it could get worse.'"
"It's kind of hilarious watching you try to fit your entire vocabulary into one sentence."
"Your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth."
"Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?
Best of luck to you all that enter!! :)
My Lovelies Forever:
@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7��� @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1
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justkending · 4 months ago
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😂😂😂
Finding Memories. Chapter 7.
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Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Word Count: 4500+
TW: Torture, cussing, and blood. 
A/N: I’m hoping to get chapter 8 out in time, so bare with me! Thank you for reading:) 
Chapter 7:
“Y/N?” Nat asked, slowing her steps closer as she took in her new look. 
“Hey,” Y/N said with a quick smile while walking toward the red head. 
They were now face to face and Y/N was semi-avoiding eye contact as she could tell Nat was studying her. 
“I have a favor to ask you,” Y/N said softly as she tried to move the attention away from her. 
Keep reading
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justkending · 4 months ago
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Took me a minute but updated!!
One Night Flame. Chapter 15.
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Series Summary: Y/N is a 3rd grade teacher, who had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Word Count: 3000+
Chapter 15: UPDATED 2/11/25
Pain. Lots and lots of pain.
I take a slow breath and weakly pat around the bed, looking for the warm body I had attached myself to for most of the night. “Dean?” I say hoarsely, but no response.
I blink away as much sleep and grogginess as I can as I turn, grunting and wincing at the ache. Once I’m on my back, I take a deep and slow breath.
“This is what Hell is. I get it now,” I grumble, and I hear a chuckle from the doorway. “Mornin’ hot stuff,” Dean says, dressed in his jeans and flannel from last night. “How you feelin’?” he asks, coming in and putting a white pastry bag and a cup of tea on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed.
His arm goes over both my legs and traps me under the blanket as he sits next to me.
“I feel like some drunk idiot flung me into a bartop and bruised the shit out of my ribs…” I grumble, my hands coming up to rub my eyes. “Oh, wait,” I say sarcastically, and he laughs.
“Good to know your humor wasn’t damaged.”
“Have too much of it to cause a dent,” I say as he pulls my hands off my face and grins down at me.
“That you do,” he shifts to grab the paper bag and hands it off to me. “I got you a muffin. I wasn’t sure if you were a chocolate or blueberry person, so I got you a lemon poppyseed.” He has an eat-shit-grin on his face, and it makes me grin back. “Realistically, it was all they had left. That or a zucchini banana nut one, but I figured you’ve suffered enough.”
I shake my head as he puts the bag back up and brings his arm back.
“Dean,” I say with a short breath.
“Yes…”
“I need to pee, but the idea of moving out of this bed sounds horrific. How do I fix that?”
I hear him chuckle as I close my eyes.
“Well, step one would be taking some meds since it’s been,” he checks the alarm clock on my nightstand. “Eight hours since your last dose. I think you’re safe for another.”
“Do you expect me to wait 45 minutes for it to kick in?”
“No, but hopefully, it makes you feel better that the pain isn’t permanent,” he says sympathetically, brushing hair out of my eyes. “On a scale of one to ten, how are we feeling? Ten being fuck you and one being, I could fuck you.”
“Smooth.”
“Thanks,” he answers smugly.
“Solid 8 right now,” I respond and move to try and get up but pause. “Help.” My plea is weak and childish as he chuckles and helps me out of bed and to the bathroom like last night.
Eventually, he helps me get situated on the couch, making it like the bed it acted as for him last night before I stole him away.
“Okay, the meds are taken. The muffin has been eaten,” he says, looking around the room, double-checking that everything is in order.
“Excellent choice,” I sigh as I adjust my blankets and settle.
“Thank you,” he acknowledges before sitting on the edge of my coffee table and facing me. “Tea is behind your head,” he points out. “And your knight and shining armor is at your beck and call. Need anything else?”
“Nope,” I grin up at him with closed eyes and a look of medical euphoria written on my face.
“Those meds are hitting pretty nice now, aren’t they?” he chuckles, moving my hair away from my face again.
“Sooooo nice,” I nod, leaning into his touch. “You’re not leaving anytime soon, right?”
“Why? You like having me around?” he teases and I give him a look that he laughs and shakes his head at. “Don’t plan on it.” His hand lingers on my cheekbone. “Rest. I’ll be around if you need me.”
When he stands, he bends down to press a kiss to my forehead and disappears into the kitchen. I’m too drugged to care what he’s doing, so I nuzzle into the couch and focus on reruns of Community he put on for me.
__________
Dean’s POV
Knowing Y/N is going to be out cold in the next 10 minutes or so, I busy myself with cleaning her house. It’s already well organized and tidy, so there isn’t too much to do, but I do the few dishes left in the sink, make her bed, fold her clothes from the night before, and stack them on her chair by her dresser. Lastly, I straightened up her bathroom and ran a load of laundry of towels I found in a hamper.
When I come back to the living room, she’s burrowed into the pillows and blankets I surrounded her with for extra cushions. She looks like a bunny in their little hole, hiding from the world.
I sigh after lighting the candle she had on her coffee table and move to the end of the couch, gently propping her feet in my lap as I watch her.
God, last night scared the shit out of me. And angered me. And shocked me. And just downright sent me down a rabbit hole of all kinds of emotions.
It started with seeing her again after two months of it being practically radio silent on her end. Did I want to be? No. But could I tell she was embarrassed and needed some space? Yes, so I kept to just weekly messages checking in. Nothing more than a “Have a good week! Careful making Jessie any smarter. She’s almost beating me at poker now…” and things along those lines.
It’s been a hard two months not seeing her face or hearing from her. I know the last time we talked, I reinstated the boundaries she had put up, and it left things kinda awkward, but I was willing to work that out with her. I wanted to. But I knew her pride and embarrassment got the best of her, and considering our whirlwind from meeting to now, I wanted to give her the space she had made me promise to give her when I said I’d be her friend first.
But in seeing her, all done up, looking as eye-catching as always, and then a man so close to her… A man who was eyeing me in a way that I was the threat and not the other way around; it rubbed me the wrong way.
Did I puff out my chest a touch more than necessary? Yeah, but so did he.
Fast forward to the bar fight and her douche of an ex-boyfriend gambling that he wouldn’t meet God with me in the vicinity- it really made the night one to remember. I remember trying to pull out of Benny’s grasp as soon as that Nick guy ran to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Benny mumbled something about letting it go, but he was a whisper in the wind I didn’t care to listen to.
But seeing her face. Disappointment was a painful thing to swallow when she looked at me. Yet somehow, I’d do it all over again if it meant she was safe and unharmed.
But she wasn’t unharmed…
Which is why I’m in talks with one of my cop buddies about getting a restraining order in line for her if she wants. I’ll wait until the drugs don’t have her mind clouded, and I can get more of a backstory on the bastard I wish I hadn’t let walk away with a complete set of teeth and an intact septum.
In my reminiscing of the night before and the terror I felt seeing her be thrown into the bar, my phone buzzes, and I fish it out of my pocket without jostling or waking her. Although her soft snore showed me, it’d take a lot more than some movement and noise to wake her up right now.
“Hey, Sammy,” I sigh, my free hand resting on the back of the couch as my eyes stay on her.
“Should we exchange pleasantries, or can I skip to ripping you a new one?” my brother says in a tone I know all too well.
“Why waste time?” I say with a smirk that I know he can hear through the phone when I hear a groan at my response.
“What the hell happened last night, Dean? Donna called me this morning and gave me a rough summary but said to call you in case you needed an attorney for assault.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, if anyone is pushing charges, it’ll be Y/N.”
“Y/N? Y/N Carter? Why would she be pushing charges?”
“How much did Donna tell you?”
“That you and a drunk customer got into it. Someone got pushed into the bar in the mix, and you were driven to the hospital while Gabe took the other guy. She didn’t give me a ton of details; she just mainly called to say I needed to check in with you.”
Makes sense that Y/N’s name wasn’t thrown in the mix, considering Donna doesn’t know her.
I quickly go through what happened in as much detail as I can recall, and I hear a long sigh on the other end as he blows out a breath.
“Jesus… Is Y/N alright?” he asks, his anger from earlier mostly subsided now. At least with me…
“She’s suffering from some pretty nasty bruised ribs. But she avoided any kind of fracture, so it’ll be a few weeks of pain meds and taking it easy. I’ll make sure she doesn’t over-extend herself,” I smile softly as I gaze over her soft figure.
There’s a pause on the other end I don’t notice as I focus on her shifting a touch for a better position.
“You’re with her right now, aren’t you?”
“Huh?” I don’t know what he’s saying cause I’m busying myself fixing her blanket as she settles again.
“That answers my question…” is mumbled on the other end. He sighs again. “Well, is there anything you need from me? You’re all good?”
“I’ve gotten worse on the job. Nothing but a scratch.” And to me, it really was. I was more worried about Y/N’s injury and how she’d manage over her Christmas break. Which, speaking of… “I guess it’s a good thing she’s got the next two and a half weeks off.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure she didn’t plan on spending it healing on her couch for the most part of it.”
“Which is why I’m going to be here to help her out.”
“Dean…” he drags out, and I can hear what he’s actually saying in his tone alone.
“Sam. I know what I’m doing. Don’t forget who the older sibling is here.”
“Yeah, but sometimes you don’t act like it. And sometimes is being nice.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait!”
“What?” I groan, slouching into the couch and throwing my head back.
“Just do me a favor… Don’t do anything stupid, please? I don’t want to have to find another teacher for Jessie because you can’t keep it in your pants.”
“I’m not a fuckboy, Sam. And I’m also not an idiot. Goodbye.”
Before he could continue to berate me on how little faith he had in me, I hung up and ran a hand down my face before rolling my head to the side and seeing her take a deep breath. The slightest grimace flits across her features, and my hand gives a small squeeze to her foot. The grimace melts, and she’s back to resting soundly.
“Dear God, what are you doing to me woman?…” The question is more for me than anyone else.
Because why the hell am I so enamored with her? I’ve always been a protective and pretty passionate guy for a lot of things in my life, but to have it shift to a woman in this manner? It’s different. Different, like I’d jump off a cliff with no hesitation if it meant she was safe. If she were in a burning building and there were seconds before it collapsed, I’d run in anyway and risk dying just to know she’s not alone.
I’m not sure what to do with that.
Sammy was always the one I knew would settle down and have a family, giving my parents a grandkid they’ve always wanted and adore and love. I guess I never looked past my bachelor years to even have an idea of what I wanted when I was ready to settle. No one has made me want to think past it.
But her? The sweet, sassy, selfless, intelligent, compassionate, stunning, and goddamn addicting woman in front of me has me feeling all kinds of things I haven’t ever felt stir in me before.
It started as a chase. It started with a challenge I couldn’t refuse, and then seeing her that next morning corralling a group of 3rd graders did something to me. Let’s be real; a teacher is to a man, as a firefighter is to a woman. Hot as hell.
But add in her qualities, and she’s someone people would be stupid to not fawn over. And for the most part, I’m anything but stupid. For the most part…
I fall asleep in the next ten minutes, exhausted from last night and still slightly sore from the whole ordeal. When I stir, blinking away sleep, I turn and see a buried mess of blankets empty.
I sit up a little straighter and look around, rubbing my eyes. “Y/N?” No answer. “Y/N?” I stand up and almost stumble on a pillow on the ground but catch myself on the wingback chair. “Y/N!”
I hear a toilet flush, and my body relaxes when the faucet turns on. I walk down the hall and stand outside, waiting for the door to open, and when I do, a messy-haired, irritated, and groaning Y/N walks out in a shuffle.
“Bathroom breaks are not for the weak,” she says and shuffles extremely slowly back down the hall to the living room.
“They can be quite the task in your condition, I’m sure,” I chuckle, offering my arm for support, and she takes it without a second thought and leans her head on my shoulder as she walks.
“Tired still?” I ask, patting her hand on my bicep before easing her back to her bunny burrow.
“Yes, but nauseous more than anything.”
I checked the meds bottle I had organized on the coffee table and saw one of the common side effects, which is exactly that.  
“They should have prescribed nausea med that’ll help counter that, but…” I look through the three different meds they have her on, but none of them show they help for that. “Damn.”
“I’ll be okay,” she waves off weakly as she gets comfortable again, laying on her side and throwing her leg over the body pillow, keeping her from falling off the edge of the couch.
“Feeling loopy at all?” I ask, sitting on the coffee table and bending with my elbows on my knees as I watch her. She shakes her head. “Need anything right now?” She shakes her head again but, this time, peeks an eye at me before a flush comes over her cheeks. “What?” I grin, loving, making her flustered even if I don’t know how exactly I did it.
“Can you…” she starts but stops, debating on her words. Adorable.
“Can I what, sweetheart?”
“Can you play with my hair? It helps me focus on something else besides the pain and nausea,” she finally asks, and her shoulders are almost to her ears with how scrunched up she is.
“You know, you’re not so big, bad, and scary like this. It’s a fun change,” I tease as I move to sit where her head is and rest it in my lap. She grumbles something in the process, and I poke her cheek. “Wanna share with the class, Teach?”
“I’d get suspended in this scenerio if I shared with the class,” she replies, swatting my hand.
“Naughty, naughty,” I shake my head, laughing under my breath. She gives me a glare, but it slowly disappears once my hands are in her hair and she relaxes.
A few minutes pass, the muffled sound of the TV playing as I look down at her in my lap, gently caress her hair, and study her features from the new angle. I see her breathing steady and can tell she’s comfortable, and I’m happy to be the reason for it.
“Y/N…” I say in a hushed whisper.
“Hmm…”
“Can I…” God, I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I need to put my cards out on the table. I need to say what I’ve been feeling. I can’t risk her moving on with another man when the two months away were excruciating for me, not being around her and not knowing what was going on in her life. She hums again, coercing me to continue. “I know it’s probably not the ideal time, but I can’t let this keep eating at me.”
Her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at me with those damn bright eyes, confused, nervous, yet calm. Fuck me…
“Dean-” she starts when she sees me freeze.
“I think I’m falling for you.”
Her eyes go wide as if the medicine-induced comma she was originally in just sobered up.
“What?”
“I’m falling for you, and I’m not regretful in admitting it,” I say, my hands still brushing her hair and ghosting over her temple and cheek. The only thing staying steady besides the racing fear in my heart. “You deserve to know what I’m feeling and what you’re doing to me.”
“I-I,” she stutters out weakly for a second but brings her hands up to cover her face, the blush creeping along her smooth skin.
“Hey,” I whisper, removing her hands gently and holding them in my hand as I look down at her. “You don’t have to respond to it. You don’t even have to acknowledge it yet if you aren’t ready. But I just… I needed to get that out on the table.” I smile as she blinks up at me. The confession getting easier to share now that it’s out there. “I’m falling hard for you, and I can say confidently that it doesn’t scare me.”
One Night Flame Tag:
@a-magey @thatgirl1456 @marvelfansworld @shadowkat-83 @death-unbecomes-you @closetspngirl@perpetualabsurdity @deansyahtzee @vicmc624 @classydreamerprofessorpeanut @sisterslytherinog@carryon-doctor-lock @spndeanlover1967 @akshi8278 @jjlevin @parinarain @capsiclehan @word-scribbless @kind-im-gedankennebel @camillechan @larpandtherealgirl
My lovelies forever:
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Tags are open: SHOOT AN ASK!
If there is a line in your name, it’s because it won’t let me tag you any longer.
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justkending · 5 months ago
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As an American, please someone adopt me and get me out of this hell hole.
this blog hates donald trump
Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁
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