#Jeez Sam you went on and on here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pearlzier · 1 year ago

Note

hiii! i hope you’re having a good day/night ^_^ i was wondering if you could wirte either sam or dean winchester with a bimbo reader!! smut or fluff i dunno ahhh TY!!

☆ ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ this took me so long m'so sorry ml !! ۫ .

☆ warning ; tad bit suggestive i mean. it's dean ,,

“pass me the fuckin’ uh..” dean ran his hand through his hair, crouched beside baby. it was a one in a million day where dean had no shit to do, so he found himself doing checks on baby even if she was in perfect shape. doesn't mean he can't check in on his girl, whilst his girl is sat on the precariously stored chair. yeah, he'd told you if you fell he'd absolutely laugh at you however he knew full well that he'd literally perform an act of magic on you to keep you safe.

“uh, screw driver?” you bat your lashes at him, legs rocking as you typed on your phone, snorting out a laugh at the emoticon that charlie had sent you. of course, you liked to help dean out. but the weather was so good, and the sun was good for your skin, or so that forum that you read at the library when you went with sam said. also, you and charlie had a lot of gossip to catch up on, so.. you weren't on your game as much as you usually were.

a soft laugh slips past dean's lips as he shakes his head, looking back at the toolbox in your lap. you watch as he gets up, his hands a little stained with car oil, which in fact, does not suit the white colour of your babydoll top, clinging to the curve of your chest. which dean took much pleasure in, but besides—so you squirm back a little when he comes closer, “dean, you cannot touch me with your hands like that, i love you, but no—”

“relax, sweetheart, just tryna get a wrench,” dean teases, “can't a guy get a wrench? jeez,” he raises his hands teasingly before he carefully grabs a wrench from the tool box. not before swiping his thumb over your nose which causes you to squeal, and he quickly makes his way back to baby before you can retaliate.

“dean!” you gasp, rummaging for your pocket mirror in the pockets of your baby pink hoodie, finding it and soon looking at yourself in the mirror. a little smudge of darkness glistens on your nose and the pout you give dean makes him cackle a little.

“c'mon, it adds character, don't you think?” he does a little tinkering under the car, to which you have absolutely no clue what he's doing. did you want to know? no, not really. you wanted to know why you had oil on your nose! you knew why, but why dean did it was a mystery, and you huffed.

“you'll know what character is when i'm done with you,” you mumble back sassily, giggling when you see the surprise fill dean's gaze. so, he rises from where he is, and saunters his way back over, having used a rag to wipe down his hands so you wouldn't throw a little hissy fit.

“is that right, hm?” his green eyes lift to yours, and leaning against the chair, he bites his bottom lip. hell, he likes when you get fiesty with him. “gonna show me character?” his low, gravelly voice cooed softly as his hands brushed over your sides.

this knocked you down a few pegs, because to be fair, if your bombshell of a boyfriend is speaking like that and holding you like this, well, who isn't gonna get a little flustered. “uh—yeah, character.” you do notice how his eyes flit down to your cleavage for a vague moment, and you speak up, a little uncharacteristically but in a way dean adores—“eyes are up here, deano.”

a groan slips past his pink lips, and you soon find his green, piercing eyes hooded and looking up at you. “tease,” he mutters under his breath, and a flush dusts his skin that he never expected to happen. “think i know where your eyes are, doll, just enjoying..” he traced a finger over the lace containing the spill of your tits, “the view. know you're enjoyin’ mine.”

you thought he wouldn't notice! you'd been staring at him for a while now, considering the fact he'd blessed you with the sight of not only his arms in a tank but sweats? your man was a slut, you couldn't even deny it. “dean, stoppp,” you mumble, getting a little heated as he brushes his fingers over you. “shut up.”

he pouts playfully, pressing his forehead gently against yours. lifting his thumb to your glossy lips, he pulls it gently before letting it go, a giggle slipping past his lips. “now you're being mean, pretty baby,” his hands slide down from your chest to your thighs, squeezing them gently. “mean to your ol’ dean?”

you push at his chest playfully, tapping your acrylics against his chest with a little laugh. this causes dean to dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh a little and pull you against him. “you were bein’ mean to me first, dean!” his brows raise, “you know exactly how. oil? nose? coulda’ gotten it on my top!”

he rolled his eyes at your behaviour, it's not like that top was expensive anyway. you two got it when dean had literally stolen 20 dollars from a wallet he found on the floor this one time. but that's besides the point. “can always get you a new one,” he shrugs his shoulders, flashing the signature winchester smirk. “kinda always been itchin’ to rip this one anyway. doesn't do that body justice.”

“dean,” you two were literally outside the motel, you couldn't do anything like dean was absolutely suggesting. and judging from the way his hand was sliding up under your skirt to cup your ass, well, he was suggesting a lot. he gives a gentle squeeze, growling softly before he lifted you up off of the chair, causing you to squeal. “dean!”

he swung you over so you'd sit on the hood of the impala, watching as your little skirt hiked up. a grin played on his lips and he sighed softly. “how'd i get so lucky, huh?” dean lifted ring clad fingers to brush the side of your face. “grumpy hunter like me.”

“fine ass hunter like yourself,” your retort was instant.

“i didn't say it, you did, so it ain't braggin’,” dean wiggled his eyebrows instantly, drawing you impossibly closer as his hands groped at your thighs gently. he was clearly a big fan of your body.

“dean, there are people walking past,” you nudge him, not before placing a glossy kiss to his cheek. he shrugs, glancing over at a passing woman and her boyfriend on the street. in usual dean fashion, he gives your ass a pat and winks at the couple, not that you realise.

“well, maybe, they wanna piece of this fine ass,” he squeezed, looking up at you through his lashes. “they'd have to go through me, first though,” literally before you can even realise it, you've been hiked up over his shoulder with your ass practically out.

“dean, my skirt!” dean acts oblivious, but slides a hand over you to keep the view at bay, a laugh slipping past his lips. “relax, sweetheart, i got you,” does this calm your nerves? no, not really, but, you relax into his grasp.

“you're the worst,” as you shake your head, your earrings shimmer under the dim lights of the motel as you make your way in. dean's practically a deer in headlights looking at you before he focuses again, and taps the doorframe of where sam's in.

“keep an eye on baby, alright? got some uh, things to be doin’, sammy,” it's like sam didn't even have to ask as he saw dean give you a playful swat on the ass, herding you to the bedroom.

“yeah, sure, whatever,” sam was ninety-five percent sure he might have to go do his research in the impala because knowing you two? you were loud.

tags ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ @onlynextdoor ۫ .

☆ 𝜗𝜚 ( your honor, i loveeee himmmmmmmmm.... lmk if u wanna be tagged in spn works lolz

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #spn #spn x reader #spn smut #bimbo reader

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lesservillain · 1 year ago

Text

— i. did you get what you deserve?

summary: the beginning.

cw: season 4 canon divergent, grumpy eddie, medical talks

an: this is a wayne heavy chapter, but i doubt anyone will complain.

Ringing. A very loud ringing. That’s all Eddie can hear.

Something’s pushing on his chest.

The ringing gets louder, until it peaks and starts to fade. Muffled voices all around him, and he can feel his body shifting.

Then it shifts a lot. Ouch, that hurts.

Everything is dark. Or maybe his eyes are closed?

His eyes flutter a bit, but everything is blurry.

There’s some yelling, but it’s too garbled in his ears to make out what’s being said.

It was dark one moment, then suddenly very bright. Like a flash directly in his eye. And then again.

Everything hurts, he notices suddenly. But only because he feels it all slipping away. His body starts to float, suspended in black with a light just above him. Instinctively he swims towards it. It feels like warm sun rays on his cold, cold body.

When he hits the surface, everything starts to hurt again. His eyes open to a dimly lit room. Every part of his body feels heavy. Even moving his head is a challenge. There’s something next to him though, a presence that he can see out of his peripherals. He tries to call out, but there’s something in his mouth, his throat, obstructing his ability to talk. With all he can muster, he lets out a groan through his nose. Whatever is next to him shifts, moving quickly with a screech.

“Ed? Ed, you awake son?!”

“I can help who’s next!”

Feet shuffling beneath you, you clutch your handbag close as you move through the bodies of your classmates. A handsome man about your age with a million dollar smile sits on the other side of the table. He looks at you expectantly as you take the hint, fumbling in your bag for your student ID.

“Sorry,” you mumble as he gives the card once over. He says your name and laughs when you respond with a yes?

“Thank you for coming,” he beams, “We’re happy to see so many people volunteering to help out.” He clicks his pen and copies your name down on a paper. You look him over as he does this. Thick, dark hair styled perfectly, with long lashes to match. His name is Sam, per the Hello my name is sticker on his shirt. He’s cute, you think.

“Yeah,” your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth so it comes out weird. After licking your lips, you continue. “Our teacher told us we could get extra credit. I guess everyone could use it after our last test.”

Nursing school is hard. Even harder when you don’t know anyone in your class. A lot of the girls all went to the surrounding high schools and knew at least one other person in one of their classes. But that wasn’t the case for you.

“I’ve heard some of those classes you all take are no joke,” he laughs, flipping through a stack of papers next to him.”

“I certainly wasn’t laughing.”

He stops his flipping, looking up at you through those thick lashes, his eyes creased at the corners from his smile.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

The question catches you off guard. Was it that obvious?”

“N-no, I’m from up north.” You gesture upward, pointing above you.

“Like Canada?”

Now you’re smiling, “Try Anderson.”

“Oh, jeez,” he shakes his head, “That’s hardly north.”

“More north than here.”

“You got me there.”

He pulls a small stack from his pile, sliding it across the table until it’s in front of you. You look down at it, immediately noticing that a large portion of the top page is blacked out by sharpie. Flipping it over, you see that the second page is pretty much the same, barely any information to be gathered at all from this “info” sheet.

“You look confused,” Sam says in a sarcastic tone.

“Um, just a little,” you sass him back, looking at him with a silent plea for answers.

“Okay, so, this guy here,” he points to the top of the page, finger just above the name Eddie Munson. “He’s not a very…popular guy around this area. I’ve been trying to get someone to take him as their case all morning and everyone’s turned him down.”

Your head tilts, eyes skimming over the paper as he talks. Under his name is an address in Hawkins, but most everything else is blacked out, even his age.

Still, even with the lack of knowledge you’ve hardly ever been one to turn someone down.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

“Okay?” Sam parrots back, shifting forward excitedly in his seat.

“Yes, I’ll take him.”

“That’s great!”

He grabs his pen and writes your name next to Mr.Munson’s on the paper, before sliding it into a white folder.

Sam pauses for a moment, a hand running through his hair as he looks around. “Hold on,” he says as he stands up, “let me find my lead and I’ll try and get you some more information on him.” He looks into your eyes, then up and down at you. Was he checking you out? Ugh, why did you have to be in your uniform right now?

You stand awkwardly as he leaves, taking the time to flatten the wrinkles in your dress and adjust your flossie. This school was one the only schools who hadn’t gotten with the times, still mandating the Nightingale uniform over scrubs for any female students.

“Okay, so,” Sam tucks some papers into a red folder, “I wasn’t able to get anything too specific to tell you. I guess there’s a lot of hush hush going on with him right now. But, my lead did tell me I could give you this care packet. It’s all stuff you should know how to do, but it’ll give you a hint on what kind of care he’s going to need.”

You take the folder from him, opening it up to peak inside, only for him to place another paper with a card attached on top.

“That paper is for the organization itself. You just have to have the patient or guardian sign when you go over there as proof to get your credit. Oh and,” he points to the card,” that’s my information. Feel free to call me if you, uh, have any questions.”

Suddenly, someone bumps into you. You close the folder quickly and turn around with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” your classmate, Rhonda, apologizes with a wave of her hands as she keeps walking down the table. You breathe in, giving her a nod of acknowledgment before looking at Sam again.

“Okay, um, thank you for everything,” you say, backing up from the table and making your exit. He calls out to you, but your ears are already starting to ring before you can even get to the double doors.

Your feet carry you out of the building and into the hot August air. Sweat immediately beads at your hairline under the unforgiving sun, a most brutal summer that feels like it’s never going to end.

You make a beeline for the parking lot, fumbling with your keys as you unlock your car and immediately begin rolling your windows down to try and let the non-existent breeze cool down your interior. Reaching inside you grab your pack of smokes and lighter from your middle console, lighting one up and feeling immediate relief as the smoke fills your lungs.

The drive to your friend's house is quiet other than the low tune of the radio playing. Tonya’s car isn’t in the driveway, and you say a silent thanks under your breath to have some time alone. You love Tonya, she’s been with you through everything, but you need some time to mentally decompress before dealing with her big personality.

After a quick shower and a bit of rummaging through the fridge for something quick to eat, you sit at the dining room table and start going through the red folder Sam gave to you. The top paper with the signature spots had a section on the top that you hadn’t noticed before where some information had been filled out.

“The patient would like to be seen at…” You see a few time slots printed on the paper starting from 8 am ranging all the way to 5pm, the ladder being the time circled. You suddenly realize Sam never asked you what your availability was, or much of anything really. Not that you asked him anything either.

Five pm was pretty late in the day, and as you kept reading, you noticed that the next section asking for “frequency of visits” had Monday through Friday circled.

This guy wants to be seen every day? You think to yourself. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to cook for him or something.

Going through the different directional packets doesn’t make you feel much better. Information on post op care, wound disinfection, dressing changes--things you’ve done before, but not by yourself, and certainly not in someone’s home.

Why do you do this to yourself?

The drive to Hawkins isn’t terrible. The “Welcome to Hell” didn’t do anything to settle your nerves, but you persisted.

A lot of closed roads lead you to take some detours, but you’d still be able to see how badly damaged the town was after the earthquake hit them. Businesses, houses, streets, all completely ruined by the way the ground split the town in fours.

You mustered up the courage to ask one of your classmates from here about what happened, and she told you that some serial killer tried to destroy the town by sacrificing teens to the devil. “Oh, okay,” was all you could give as a response. It was hard to tell if she was fucking with you or not, so you just decided to go and see Sam instead.

That turned out to not be a fruitful endeavor either. He seemed to dance around your questions, dodging them by asking you about yourself instead. You left with none of your questions answered other than a start date for your visitations.

The start day is today, a blazing hot Monday. You didn’t have time to change out of your uniform since your professor asked you to stay over to help clean up after labs, clock getting closer and closer to 5pm as you drive down this woodsy road.

A mailbox appears ahead with numbers that match the address given to you. You slow down and turn onto the gravel path, expecting to see a house as you do. Instead the drive continues into the woods, the thick lining of the surrounding trees blocking you from seeing past the brush even with full sun. The gravel crunches under your tires as you keep going down the path, following it up a slight incline before reaching a clearing.

In the center of the clearing is a one story ranch style house, half brick and half light blue paneling. It has a covered front porch, bare except for a small table and a single chair, an overflowing ashtray dead in the center. Well that’ll be good for you.

The house looked brand new, and completely out of place in the middle of the woods. It was almost creepy in the way it contrasts against the trees and dirt, no grass to be found.

That's what it is, you realize. This house feels void of life.

You park your car next to an old gray pick up truck and sit there for a moment. Maybe you could smoke one more cigarette before going in. But what if they heard you coming and wonder why you’re taking so long?

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, grabbing your supply bag and pushing open the car door.

You keep your head down, watching the dirt stick to your black uniform shoes as you cross the yard to the front porch. You knock on the door, wiping your feet on the welcome mat as best as you could. A pair of dirty work boots sits just outside the door.

There’s movement behind the door that makes your head snap up, taking in a deep breath as you wait for the door to open. A quiet pause is interrupted by the sounds of multiple locks being undone and the door pulling open just enough to make the chain lock taught.

An older gentleman’s wrinkled face makes its appearance in the crack of the door, looking at you up and down. “Can I help you?” He has a slight southern drawl, voice a bit horse as if he had just woken up.

“Y-yes,” you squak, “um, are you Mr.Munson?”

His eye narrows and you see his arm shift behind the wall.

“Depends on who's askin.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m here volunteering with Visiting Angels? I was-“

He cuts you off with your name, asking it as a confirmation of who you are. You nod, “Yes, that’s me!” He looks you up and down. He grunts, shifting a bit until the sound of something hitting the ground slightly catches your attention.

The door closes slightly, and with a click opens fully to reveal the older man in his entirety, standing aside enough for you to walk in, but his eyes scan the area behind you suspiciously.

“Come on in,” he says, closing the door behind you, “I honestly didn’t think anyone was gonna come.”

“Well, I don’t mind the drive,” you say with a tight smile. Mr.Munson stands in place as you let your eyes wander over the house. The smell of fresh paint filled your nostrils, and the new furniture and bare walls gave you the same creepy feeling as the outside of the house. As your eyes reach the front door, you suppress a physical reaction to the large shotgun leaning against the wall next to it.

A deep sigh from the man has you turning to face him, his rough hand running over his face to the back of his head. “You don’t have any clue, do you?”

“I’m sorry?” You’re having a hard time hiding the nerves that are bubbling up in your chest, body entering fight or flight mode.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, walking away from you and plopping down in one of the recliners. He gestures to the couch, “Have a seat, I’ll try and explain.”

You hesitate. You’re right by the door, you don’t have to do this. This guy doesn’t seem like he needs any help anyway. Sam’s words about him not being very popular in this area come to the forefront of your mind and now your head is swirling with possibilities as to why.

A small ringing from another part of the couch pulls you from your spiral.

“Shit, hold on a second,” the man says as he rises back to his feet, “let me go see what he wants and I’ll be right back.” He walks past you and down the hall, leaving you by yourself.

This is it. Just turn around now and leave.

“Whatcha need, Ed?”

Your ears perk up. Was the man you were talking to not who you came here for? Maybe it’s his dad, and the man you’re talking to is just Eddie’s tired son who needs help taking care of him. But why would he call his own dad Ed? Maybe it’s an uncle or a family friend? He did say he was a Munson…

“Okay, let me whip something up for ya.”

The mystery Munson walks back down the hall, slowing down enough to talk as he walks by. “The boy’s hungry, can we talk in the kitchen while I heat him up somethin?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you say after a moment, following behind him into a large dining room/kitchen area. There’s a huge table in the center of the dining area that’s covered with boxes labeled with things like “dishes,” “salvaged photos,” “salvaged misc.” It all the sudden clicks for you.

“So, I’m not sure what all they told you,” the man starts, speaking with his back turned as he pulls some things from the fridge.

“I was given a name and an andress,” you say almost playfully, letting some of the tension leave your body.

“Should’a known,” he says, looking over his shoulder at you with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “I think its for legal purposes, they can't disclose much about my nephew or something like that. But, uh,” he nods his head to one of the bar chairs at the counter between the two of you, “I can.”

And so he did. He told you about how a murderer had escaped from prison and snuck back to Hawkins, murdering teens and attempting to pin it on his nephew. The killer had killed a girl in their old trailer, right in front of Eddie, almost killing him, too.

But, since no one had realized that the killer escaped, the whole town had believed it was Eddie the whole time. Four teens were killed, almost 5, and Eddie was brutally tortured before his friends were able to save him.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp with a hand over your mouth.

“I know,” the man, Wayne, says as he scoops the macaroni and cheese into a bowl. He opens a drawer and pulls out a spoon with a large, grippy handle that you recognized from your nurse shadowing. They’re normally used for people who’ve had strokes or other hand mobility issues. He shoves the spoon into the bowl and walks around the counter.

“I guess I’ve talked about him enough, might as well meet him for yourself.”

You slid out of your seat and follow Wayne down the hall to the very end. He gives the door a knock before opening it with a quick “coming in!”

Stepping in behind him, you see a large, mostly empty room with more new looking furniture and a few boxes in various places. In the center against the wall was a hospital bed with a large pull bar dangling above it. You were expecting to see someone laying in the bed, but were met with the sight of a lump of blankets and comforters instead.

“Ed, food’s ready boy,” Wayne says as he pulls a bedside table from against the wall to the bed. “Got someone here for you to meet, too.”

The lump on the bed moves a bit, and for a brief moment you see a set of eyes and a few wild curls peek from under the covers. But, just as quickly as you see them, they’re hidden once again.

“Ed—“

“No,” his muffled, strained voice calls from under the covers.

“Boy, don’t do this. You know I can’t leave you alone when I go—“

“No!” The voice squeaks, followed by a harsh cough. Wayne sighs, setting the bowl down softly.

“Let me get him set up and I’ll, uh, meet you back out in the living room.”

“Oh, okay,” you say quickly, backing out of the room and closing the door behind you. You’re barely down the hall when you can hear some strained yelling coming from the last room at the end of the hall.

You settle back in the kitchen where you can’t hear the conversation happening between the two men. You thought about dark and dull eyes that looked at you briefly, how even with only that small glance of him, Eddie looked tired. Just about as tired as his uncle, who rounded the corner a few minutes later.

“I’m so sorry about him, he’s just a little weary about strangers,” the older man says walking over to the phone sitting on the wall, picking it up and dialing.

“It’s okay, I can understand that.” You give him a small smile, which he tries to return, but is distracted as whoever he’s calling picks up on their end.

“Hey, Chief, it’s Wayne—sorry, yeah, Jim. Listen, Ed’s new caretaker is here, but he’s throwing a bit of a fit about ‘er. Think you’d be able to come and sit with him f’r the night until we can try again tomorrow?”

Disappointment washes over you. Not that you weren’t used to rejection, but you’d hardly been able to even give a first impression. Maybe your uniform put him off? Gotta start keeping clothes in the car to change into from now on…

The phone clings as Wayne hangs it up, body relaxing as a slow breath leaves him. He looks over to you, rather looking through you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Little miss, can I be frank with you?”

“It’s the uniform isn’t it?”

Wayne barks out a laugh, and you chuckle even though your inquiry was serious. “No, no--well, maybe a little.”

“I knew it,” you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to wear it when you’re here. S’long as you’re decent I don’t really care what you wear here to be honest. But, I did want to talk to you more about what we’re actually needing here.”

You look up at him, head tilting to the side in confusion. Several questions sit on the tip of your tongue, but you chose to just nod for him to continue.

“Okay. So, uh, I’ve been off work this whole time. Since March. I’ve been with the plant for a long time and my boss’s took a lotta pity on me with everything that’s going on. But…well that time is running out, and I can’t rely on anyone else to keep these bills paid, ya know?”

“Yes, yeah, I totally get that. Broke college kid here.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “So, I gotta go back to work. Tonight, actually, and, uh, I know this is short notice, but I need someone to stay here…while I’m at work.”

Your eyes go wide. “Oh, you wanted me to be, like, an overnight caretaker?”

“Yeah, I just, ya see with everything I told you about what happened, I couldn’t get anyone to come out and take care of him. Either they couldn’t pass a background check or once they realized who he was…So the Visiting Angel’s place was my last ditch effort to try and get someone in here. They said that it would be free if we went through the volunteer program, and that even though y’all are students that you’d still be able to help--But I understand if you can’t. You probably got a job and a family and a boyfrie--”

“I’ll do it.” The words fly out of your mouth without much thinking. But this poor man in front of you has been through hell with his nephew and how can you say no to him?

“Wait, really?” It’s his turn for his eyes to bug out, hardly able to believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. What time do you need me to be here?”

Wayne’s face softens, head hanging low like he still can’t wrap his head around your words. “Well, uh,” he starts, “I gotta leave here ‘round 6:30 and I work til about 5 am give or take depending on the night crew. If you'd be here about 6 or quarter after, that would be just fine. I don’t know how to cook much, but I could try and whip ya up something when I make Ed’s dinner, and you could work on yer school or watch tv or whatever girls your age like to do.”

“I’m plenty content to just work on school or watch tv,” you assure him.

“Good, good,” he says with a nod, turning to look into the living room. “We don’t got a bed in the third bedroom yet, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch until I can find the time to go and get one. Am I gonna have’ta talk to your parents or anything about why you’re not coming home during the week or anything?”

“What? Oh, no, no,” you wave your hands at his question, “Not unless you know how to talk to the dead.”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Wayne cringes, hand running through his barely there hair.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” you say as you stand from your chair, “I will have to figure out how to tell my roommate. I don’t think she would like it if I told her that I was staying the night with a guy who was acquitted for murder.”

Oops. You bite your tongue between your teeth, wishing you could take the last bit of that sentence back. But Wayne’s laugh makes you feel less bad.

“Trust me, if I was in your roommates shoes I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

The ring of Eddie’s bell echoes down the hall again, pulling both of your attention to the sound.

“Better let me go myself. Don’t want to upset him again tonight. Why don’t you go head and head home and in the meantime I’ll talk to him. Try again tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“Good,” Wayne says, walking you to the door. He lets you out with a goodbye, the closing of the front door being followed by the sounds of locks being put back in their place.

The drive home was quiet, but your head was swirling with thoughts. Your brain goes back and forth on the situation you just got yourself into.

Instead of focusing on the negatives, you decide to make a list in your mind of things you’d need to bring with you to stay the night; a toothbrush, deodorant, your own pillow and blanket—would they let you take a shower there? Hopefully so, since some days you’re going to have to come over straight from work or class. So add shampoo and conditioner. Probably body wash, too. You doubt that two men living together use anything other than head and shoulders.

You cringe when you think about using feminine products while there. Maybe you’d just keep them in your bag and grab them as you need them. It wouldn’t hurt to bring an extra towel in case you need to put it under you while you sleep.

Going through your mental checklist helps make the drive go by. Before you know it, you’re turning onto your street, where, surprise, surprise, Tonya’s boyfriend is once again parked in your spot in the driveway. You park on the street with a huff, thinking of all the things you want to say, but know you ultimately wont, not being one for confrontation.

“Hey, girl,” Tonya calls out from the couch. The smell of delicious food filling the whole house, so you know Charles must be cooking. “Go get a plate, Charlie just finished cooking.”

“I’m good, I grabbed something while I was out.” A lie, but you’d rather retreat to your room until Charles left. You’ve never been a fan of him and his pompous, know it all attitude. It was just better if you kept your interactions with him to a minimum rather than having to pretend he doesn’t get on your nerves.

It was a few hours later, nearing 10 pm when you finally heard Tonya shut the front door, signaling that it was safe to leave. She was cleaning up Charle’s mess in the kitchen when you walked out from your room.

“Hey,” you said quietly, keeping a comment about cleaning up after a child to yourself.

“I was wondering when you were going to come out,” she teases. “Thought I was gonna have to slip you a plate under your door.”

“Ha, ha,” you deadpan, opening the fridge to pull out leftovers from the weekend.

“So why’d you come home so late today?”

The calendar with both of your schedules scribbled in stared you in the face as you closed the refrigerator door. You weren’t a very social person, usually just coming straight home from school or work. And even though Tonya was a very chill person 99% of the time, that wasn’t the case when it came to you.

“I, uh…” you stuttered. You had the whole drive home and you forgot to think about what you’d tell her. If she knew the truth, she’d flip her lid and talk you out of it. You could try to lie, but there’s no way she’d believe you if you told her you were staying with a new guy that you’d never talked about or that you were helping out another friend she knows you don’t have.

“I had a job interview!” It was the only sensible thing you could think of that may be somewhat convincing to her. “For a…nursing home. As a nurse's assistant.”

“Woah, really?” Tonya sets her cup on the counter, jaw dropped in excitement. “Omg, okay, how did it go? Are they going to have you do another interview? Details, girl, details!”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, putting out your hands to keep her from shaking you. You wrack your brain, trying to come up with a story on the spot. “It’s a newer nursing home…very small. Um, I would be able to do some of my nursing stuff under supervision of a nurse. And…it’s overnights—“

“Hold on, overnights?” Tonya interruptus, “Girl, that’s a lot with your school schedule.”

“Oh, um, I know, but its super casual and I can sleep in the afternoon when I get out of class or after work—“

“Wait, you’re not quitting CoffeeHouse?”

Shit.

“Ah, about that, um, I’m…still going to try and work there, just in case. Like if this doesn’t work out.”

Tonya eyes you, making your hands feel sweaty under her scrutinizing gaze. “I don’t understand,” she states with a concerned tone.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you need to have two jobs? You don’t pay rent, Charlie cooks for all of us a couple times a week. I take care of the bills—“

“I feel guilty,” you blurt out, feeling actually guilty when you see her face contort with sadness.

“No, babes, I told you that I didn’t want your money. I want you to focus on something for you for once.”

“This is for me though. It’s a chance to actually get a more authentic experience in my field, and — and I can’t just take and take from you forever.”

Tonya lunges forward, enveloping you in her arms. “Why noooooot,” she wines, fake crying into your shoulder, “just let me take care you, baby giiiiiirl.”

“Stooooooooop,” you cry back, “I’m an independent woman who don’t need no man, remember? I believe you’re the one who told me that.”

“Right, no man. But you do need me!” She pulls back flashing her picture perfect smile at you that has had guys folding for her since middle school.

“You’re right,” you sigh in faux defeat, “if only I was enough for you…”

“Oh my gooooood, just get over your hang ups and learn to love him. He’s really not that bad.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“Not like you have room to talk.”

You gasp, putting on a dramatic display at her poking at your taste in men.

“Don’t even try it,” she flicks your forehead. “When you find a guy that’s not totally batshit, then come talk to me.”

“I can’t help that I attract the crazies.”

After a few more white lies and half truths, the conversation shifts to other topics, including that of a retreat that Charles is planning for the two of them for their one year anniversary. Eventually you wind down and head to your room, making sure to check the locks on the door and windows on the way.

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson slow burn #disabled!eddie munson #eddie lives #eddie munson st4 #canon divergent #grumpy!eddie munson x sunshine!reader #eddie munson x nurse!reader

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fashionteahouse · 6 months ago

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sour candy - sam x reader

AN: part 1 part 2 enjoy part 3 :) next part

Under the table, your fists bawled up. Open mouth kisses made Emily bubble out with laughter.

“I missed you, where did you go?” Emily asks him.

Sam arrived after Emily had picked you up from school.

“Old Quil’s after I went for a run.” he answers her. She nods and tells him, “Dinner should be ready in a few hours.” she says.

He nods a greeting to you. That was it. You watched as he left out.

“Have any homework?” Emily asks you. You shake your head.

“I did it during study hall.” you answer.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but I’m telling you anyways. Guess whose birthday party is this weekend?” she says to you.

You roll your eyes, “Let me guess, Paul.”

“You should go.” she says with a bright smile. You shake your head.

“You haven’t made any friends since being here.” she says.

“I don’t need to. I’m leaving after this school year.”

“It still would be nice.” she insists. You let out a small huff.

“It also wouldn’t hurt to join extracurricular activities at school.”

“Jeez Emily if you don’t want me around just say it.” you joke.

“No, no. I just want you to make the best of this while you’re here. I know you miss back home.” she says. You then look to the window.

The school week was super slow. It was boring when Sam was gone. He left more often. He barely spoke to you, giving Emily all of the attention.

You sat in your room listening to music. Lyrics made your mind travel to the times you and Sam had spent getting to know each other’s bodies. The deep itch in your body needed to be scratched. Only Sam could relive it.

You then thought about maybe giving Paul a chance but your brain immediately rejected the idea. There was just no way someone like him would be able to make you feel as good as Sam.

“Y/N.”

You jerk a bit from being interrupted from your thoughts and slide the headphones off of you. You blink at Sam’s figure in the doorway.

“Emily says dinner is ready.” he says.

“I’m not hungry.” you halfheartedly say.

He waits for a moment before speaking again, “Did you already eat?”

“No. I’m just not hungry.” you say not meeting his eyes.

“You should still try. Even if you could only take small bites.” he says.

You then rise your eyes up to him, “Do you mind closing my door? Thanks.” you say impatiently.

You put your headphones back and resume the music. When you look back at your door, you see that Sam is gone but the door is left with a tiny crack. You roll your eyes and push it closed with force.

“Emily. We should catch a movie.” you say with a grin as you both sit in the living room.

“Really? I don’t know what’s there to watch.” she says.

“Something scary.” you say.

“Ugh.. Really?”

“What?”

“Why not something romantic?” she asks with a twinkle in her eye.

A long eyeroll was made as she laughed.

As you sipped on the drink and sat on the movie theater bench in the lobby as Emily had to use the bathroom, you suddenly cover your face with your hand.

You rise up and try to walk fast.

“Y/N?”

You internally groan before forcibly turning around with a casual smile.

“Hey, Paul.”

“What movie are you seeing?” he ask as he got closer.

“Just…Something…” you trail off to stall.

That’s when you hear Emily’s voice greet him and tell him automatically the movie you both are seeing. You mental face palm.

“Now is when you want to come out of the bathroom.” you thought angrily in your head.

“Yeah, which we should be going.” you say and take Emily’s arm.

“I’m seeing that too.” he says with a grin.

You then hung your head.

You watched the movie, you however mentally note to yourself to pirate a movie next time.

You sat in the middle.

You felt it was a mistake as Paul kept trying to make conversation. Only humming out responses as he walked with you and Emily to the car.

Emily had distance from you and he boldly asks, “Can I see you again?”

“I’m busy, so I don’t know.” you answer, not giving the grace of politeness.

“Alright…” he says as he watched as you walked the rest of the distance to your car.

You sat up in bed as you watched your door. Your lamp was the only thing that was on.

Sam wasn’t home when you and Emily came in.

Emily had gone to bed.

You couldn’t sleep.

You rise out of bed as you halfheartedly walked through the kitchen to get something to drink.

You leaned against the counter as the back door squeaked open.

Pausing to look, Sam meets your eyes as he closes the door behind him.

He waves.

You walk away.

Lying in bed, you blinked at the wall that was only lit up from the low light of the lamp.

You’re startled a bit as Sam comes through the doorway of your room. His hand rests on the doorknob as his other hand rests on the wall of the doorway.

He whispered your name.

“What?” you say not bothering to keep your volume down.

He looks down a bit before saying, “I’m sorry.”

He backs away before you pull the covers off of you. Before he could close the door, you open the door back up.

You look up at him as he looked back at you.

“Did you want to talk to me?” you ask.

He blinks a bit before nodding.

You grin a bit as you take his arm and tugged him in. You watch in enjoyment as he pushed the door closed without looking back.

“What I did was wrong.” he says.

“What you did was right.” you say with your arms wrapped around his neck, not daring to break eye contact.

His eyebrows knit in confusion, “Y/N, what I’m saying…Is that we can’t.” he says and unwrapped himself from you.

“We can.” you simply say.

“If you come with inappropriate behavior, I’m telling Emily.” he threatened.

He leaves you standing there in shock. You didn’t know whether or not to be angry or laugh.

You didn’t speak to him. You blatantly ignored him. Not even caring that Emily was around to witness. She was worried.

After Emily showing off her crotchet skills, she asks, “Do you have a problem with Sam?”

“No. Why?”

“You’ve been acting a bit…Rude.” she says.

“Really? I have?”

“Yes. Well… You’re ignoring him. You shouldn’t ignore him.” Emily says.

You don’t say anything.

“You’re miserable Y/N, I get it. That’s why I told Paul that we were coming to his party tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes with a groan, “Would you stop it? I seriously told you, I don’t want to go.”

“Why? You don’t know him. You’ve been doing the same thing since you’ve gotten here. You need to open up and make some friends.” she says.

You groan again at her persistence.

You glared at your reflection. You glared at the clothes you wore. You stomp out of your room and Emily is talking with Sam at the table.

They both look at you with a smile.

“You look nice.” Sam comments.

You don’t say anything.

“She always looks nice.” Emily says.

You smile at her, “Thanks.”

Emily clicked off her seatbelt. She hands you a wrapped present.

“Here. Take all of the credit.”

“Of course.” you mutter as you grasp it in your hands. You open the car door and step out.

People knew Emily.

“This is my cousin.” she introduced and people made it seem like they knew you just as well as her.

You stayed close to Emily.

“You should give Paul his present.” she says as you pass her a cup.

“Mmm maybe later.” you say.

“Why later?” you hear behind you. You whip around to find Paul looking back at you.

“Here.” you say and pass it to him.

“What is it?” Paul asks. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

You look to Emily and you look back at Paul, “Open it and find out.”

He tears it open. You silently thank Emily for not letting things get awkward as he thanks you.

“Thanks. I’m gonna go dance.” you say hurriedly and before you get away, he pulls your arm.

“Yeah, let’s go dance together.” he suggests with a grin.

“I’m dancing with Emily.” you say and pull your arm back. He looks down at it. He then looks over and you follow his gaze, both seeing Emily dancing with two other girls.

“It’s my birthday.” he says with a slight furrow in his eyebrows.

“Right. Happy birthday.” you say.

You dance with him but you made sure to not be too close. He was a good dancer and his party had great music but a certain someone was stuck in your mind. It felt like you were cheating.

You pull back as his hands touch your waist and he’s confused.

He watched as you move away and move away from the crowd of dancing people.

Thanking the universe that there was alcohol, you let it hit your throat.

You woke up the next day with a headache, however you were lucky to skip out on a horrible hangover.

“I gotta go in today, someone called in sick. I promise I will be back later and we can talk all about what happened with you and Paul.”

“Take your time because nothing happened.” you say. She laughs and hugged you a farewell.

You lounge in the living room until lunch rolled around. Sam came in and sat on the couch. You didn’t say anything back to his greeting. Having a taste for a sandwich, you leave out and head to the kitchen.

You struggle to open the pickle jar. You sigh softly in defeat as you trudge your feet in the living room.

Sam had his eyes closed as his chest rises and falls.

“Sam.” you bark out.

You watch his eyes open and look to you.

“You mind opening this?” you thrust out the jar in his direction.

He sits up a little and opens it. He hands it back to you.

“Thank you.” he says.

You look at him in confusion.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re supposed to say thank you.”

“Oh.” you say and turn back around. You resume to making your lunch.

“Did I do something to make you upset?” he asks.

You only shrug.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“All you’ll do is run and cry to Emily.” you mutter and take your lunch with you in your room.

You had to take your dish to the sink and he was there in the front of the home still.

You leave.

You walk along the beach and finally sit on a rock. You watch the figures toss a ball back and forth.

You chuckle softly to yourself as the person showed signs of being a sore loser. They take their ball back and you watch as the figure laughs at them.

They walk on their own paths, the laughing figure coming in your direction. You look down.

You watch the waves in front of you. You hear your name.

“You hang here too?” Paul asks.

“Yeah. Are you following me or something.”

“I should be asking you that.”

“As if you’re interesting enough to follow.” you say.

“So uh…What are your plans for today.”

“Walk away Paul.”

“You’re so rude.” he says.

“Thanks.” you say.

“It was a simple question.”

“My plans don’t include you. Happy?”

“It seems like they do. You’re talking to me. I’m afraid that includes me.” he answers back with a small grin. You shake your head a bit.

“You’re very annoying. You’re like a pimple that keeps coming back.” you say.

“I’m touched.” he says with a heartfelt tone.

You rise up and start to walk.

“Where you going?”

“Away from you.”

“What if I want to get away from myself too?”

“Shut up Paul.” you say and continue walking.

Then an idea popped in your head that stopped you in your tracks. A slow smirk formed in your face. You look back and see that he was still watching you walk away.

Meeting his eyes, “You want to follow me so bad, I’m going home.”

He blinked.

Side by side, you’re both walking to the home that you had left out from. You press a finger to your lips while you walk in as you remember that Sam was napping on the couch.

Paul seemed to like your mischievous mind, following it with a smirk as he grasped your hand.

Sam wasn’t asleep, he was just waking up. He heard shuffling of feet enter his home and he knew off top that it was more than one. He decided to wait, see how things play out.

He heard a door close and a familiar sound of a lock. He rises slowly.

He made sure to not give away any noise, it was easy for him. Walking slowly but closely, he pressed his ear to the door. He heard the faint creaking of the bed that was in your room. He didn’t know why he felt such strong emotion or why he should’ve felt it, anger bubbled through his body.

He used one powerful fist to knock on the door.

“Y/N. Open this door.” he barked out impatiently.

The door unlocks and creaks open. He pushed it open, grabbing Paul by the nape of his neck. Not even caring his shirt wasn’t even on.

“Sam, what are you doing?” you ask, you were only in a shirt and underwear.

He shoved Paul outside and slammed the front door.

With a pointed finger, he whipped around to you, “You will not do such thing in my house.”

“Oh, really?” you replied.

He doesn’t say anything as he stormed past.

“So, you can get your rocks off but I can’t?”

“Not in my house.”

“He lives with his parents! It’s not possible”.

“Not my problem.” he says and walked away to his room. You stomp behind him.

“It is!”

“Y/N, what are you doing in here. Just go to your room.” he says.

“It is! I’m horny Sam!” you boldly say.

He was surprised to hear such thing, “Y/N. Stop it.” he ordered.

“No! Stop telling me what to do! I’m horny Sam and I want you to fuck me! That’s all I want.” you say in a whine.

You shove his figure that was sitting on the bed.

“Y/N, this is unacceptable. I will tell Emily if you don’t get off of me”.

“You fucked me so good and now you’re pushing me away. Why Sam, why?” you whine out again as you caressed the front bulge sensually.

He let out a shaky breath as he caught his breath, he lifts you off of him. He adjusts himself and clears his throat, “Just go to your room.”

You lift your shirt off of your body without further ado. His eyes bulge out of his eye sockets as you walk towards him. He knew if he touched you, he wouldn’t be able to handle the soft skin.

He wanted to tell you to stop but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. He jerked from surprise when an open mouth kiss met his earlobe. A shaky moan that came out your mouth was heard in his ear.

It was his turn for his breath to be shaky as your hand dipped into his pants.

The veiny feeling that you missed so much was firm in your hand. You stroke him as you dipped your tongue in his mouth that he was breathing heavy out of. He couldn’t help but to suck and try to keep up with your kisses. The sounds you both made together were so heated like the moment.

You place your hands on his to let him hold your chest. He sucked in a breath as you guided his hands. The sounds that came out your mouth were pretty and driving him crazy. He just had to kiss you again.

He slid your damp underwear off of your legs and he placed you on your back.

He kneeled in front you, staring down the feast that was waiting for him. His long and talented tongue flicked at the nub that was aching.

You sigh out with a tight lip smile as you waited so long for this moment. Your hips were lurching as your fingers danced in his hair.

His hands owned your naked chest and belly as he felt you up as your lower body danced on his tongue. Coming hard with trembles, he kissed you hard. As you both swirled tongues with each other’s, you both moan at the taste of you.

Your moan raise an octave as he slowly sinked his hardened flesh in your mushy core.

Your legs immediately wrap around his waist as your fingers hold him close to you. He rocked his hips against yours as you groaned and moaned out.

It felt better than heaven. You wanted him to live inside of your skin. Sam’s forehead rest next to your neck as he pounded harder and harder. He just didn’t understand why it felt like his dick was being coated in a love socket. It was so velvety and wet. He just couldn’t get enough as he circled his hips. He wanted to feel guilty but he just couldn’t. He secretly loved this selfish feeling.

Moving your hips upward, you both gasp out. The feeling was building up and you both squeeze your eyes shut. You both moan in sync as you both climaxed. You wanted to continue, you hold him to you.

Sam trembled and clutched the sheets as he grunted out the feeling of his seed being planted inside of you.

His hips slow and he rolls to his back. He pants out as he looked up at the ceiling. You look over and his white coated penis but flaccid. You scoot closer and stroke him with both hands. He groaned long and drawn out.

You gasp in happiness as he slowly started to get hard again. Using his semen as a lubricant, you take one of your hands away to circle your nub with the leftover substance, making sure that he’s watching. He would never be able to get it out of his head. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such position.

He pulled your body to him, not even caring it was rough, you loved it. You press your lips to him as you both sloppily kiss. There was no coordination and there was a lot of tongue, just how you both liked it.

Your hooded eyes are closed as his hardened flesh sleeked against your sensitive center, spreading between your lips.

You whisper out his name.

“I love you.” you whisper out as his hands felt upon your naked body. Every touch felt electrifying.

“Sam, am I better than Emily?” you whisper out sensually.

“Yes.” he groaned out as he circled your nipples with his rough fingers.

“Say it.” you whisper out.

“Y/N, you’re so much better.” he moaned out and he let his hips buck into you deeply.

You bit your lip a little as you moan out. You felt like you were high on drugs. You were the feign and he was the fix.

The sounds that filled the room was the suctioning of the lovemaking. This time it was slow and passionate. You both were far gone. You pressed the front of your body to his chest as you french kiss him passionately, his hands feeling your back and your backside as if you were his all time lover. You both moan into each other’s mouths. You both focus on each other. Goosebumps rose on your skin and you felt your body suck him in, feeling greedy for more.

A gasp is heard.

You felt the hands that made you feel so good pause and you look up to see Sam staring to the side. You meet his gaze and you see a tearful Emily in the open doorway.

You scramble off of him, covering yourself with a cover. Sam was still hard, sticking straight up in the air, semen mixed with juices of your own made his flesh shiny and glisten.

She tried her best to catch her breath. She turns away with a run.

“Emily.” Sam calls for her as he grabbed his pants. Your heart pounds in your ears.

“In my bed?! In my bed Sam! You’re fucking disgusting!” she screams. She then breaks down into a cry.

You scoot out of her bed, tiptoeing to your room. You shut the door as you pace after getting dressed. You felt horrible that you were still very aroused but the circumstances were very horrible.

Emily busts into your room, wiping her tears and slaps you. Hard.

“Call your dad. You’re getting the fuck out of here.” Emily yells.

You’re frozen as you hadn’t heard her talk like that, ever. But, you understand what you did.

Shaky hands pull out your phone.

Your father slammed the trunk closed. You stood there awkwardly as you clutched your duffle bag.

“I don’t…I don’t know what to do with you.” he says in low defeat. He pushed past you as he entered the home that you promised to come back to when you had gotten yourself together.

#sam uley #sam uley x reader #wolfpack #twilight #fanfiction #fanfic #y/n #smut with plot #smut with feelings #x you smut #x y/n #y/n imagines #angst fanfic #reader smut #x reader #y/n fanfic #emily young

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lostgirlmuseum · 2 years ago

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Stuck (2)gether

(image from Pinterest ^) Summary: A continuation of Stuck Together, Bucky deals with the aftermath of now knowing what it’s like to be so close to you. He misses it. He’s scared of it. He needs it.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None I don’t think, just some fluff and an awkward Bucky. Oh and implied wet socks (DON'T WORRY, NOT EXPLICIT)

A/N: Yes I think im very funny with the title lol

Previously…

You wonder what you did to make him so revolted by you.

Little do you know, at that very moment, Bucky is resisting every urge to run back to you.

Bucky woke up the next morning feeling lost. Like there was something missing. Before his groggy brain could put it together, he saw his phone light up with a reminder that he was meeting Sam to go on a jog. He quickly got up and got dressed, trying to ignore that weird nagging feeling that a piece of him was gone.

Seeing as he lives on the fourth floor of the tower, he could’ve very easily taken the stairs to level one. It’s not like he got winded often. But something compelled him to take the elevator.

Right as the odd feeling had started to dissipate, the elevator doors opened. And there you were.

It all came crashing back to him.

Fu-

“Oh, hey Buck.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He briefly considered not getting on. He could take the stairs. But there you stood, and he felt the urge to stand right next to you.

“What floor?” You asked.

He looked at the buttons. He saw “12” glow a faint yellow.

“Twelve.”

“Oh, me too.”

“Yes.”

Yes? What does that even mean? Just be cool Barnes. Be cool—

Your sweet voice interrupted his internal panic.

“Nice. With how hot it’s been lately, I figured I should take advantage of the pool.”

He finally noticed the towel you were carrying.

“Yeah, same.” He crossed his arms.

“You’re heading to the pool too?”

“Yeah.”

“What are the chances?” You politely laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go swimming.”

“I swim.”

Despite his horrible conversational skills, he doesn’t want this elevator ride to end.

“I don’t doubt it.”

There came an awkward lull in the conversation. He felt guilty for not only lying about where he was headed, but even more so for his lack of interesting responses. The least he could do was be engaging.

Either you gave up on him, or you lost interest, because neither of you said another word as you exited the elevator, and walked down the hall into the pool room.

He stood and watched as you grabbed a chair and draped your towel over it. You two were the only ones there. He continued to watch as you took off your t-shirt and stepped out of your shorts, revealing a navy bathing suit underneath. You stacked your clothes neatly on the chair, and pulled your hair back. You ambled up to the edge of the pool and dipped your toe in. Then you turned around and saw him staring right back at you, unmoving.

“Where’s your swimsuit?” You tilted your head.

“Um.” He looked at you blankly for a solid three seconds. He realized there was a significant hitch in his plan. Could he make an excuse and just leave? Yes. Was he going to? No. Because all logic went out the window the minute the elevator doors opened and he saw you. He’s acting on the instinct to be near you, and not leave your side, no matter what. “I didn’t bring it.”

“Oh, I know what you’re doing.” You laughed.

Oh jeez. You’ve caught him. He’s mortified. He can’t even explain the feelings coursing through his veins, and yet you’ve already figured him out.

“Swimming fully clothed, yeah? I’ve heard it’s a good skill to learn, never know when you might be in a situation where you unexpectedly find yourself in a body of water, especially in our line of work.”

He nodded.

You turned back to the water and took a step up on the diving block. You got in position and dove into the water, leaving Bucky with his jaw dropped at how you just found his excuse for him.

“You coming in, or what?” You called, wading in the pool.

“I’m here, sorry,” Bucky started his apologies to Sam the minute he found him waiting on a bench in the lobby.

“Man, where were you? I thought we were meeting for a run. And why the hell are you dripping?”

“Sorry, I got held up.”

“Doing what? Did you forget to take your clothes off in the shower?”

“No.”

“Okay…” Sam looked Bucky up and down, taking in the way his shirt clung to his chest, the messy damp hair, and the literal puddle he stood in. “Buck, I’m waiting for an explanation on why you’re drenched.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Weird dude. You’re being weird. I mean, you’re always weird, but especially right now.”

“Are we running, or not?” He groaned.

“With those squeaky ass shoes? I’m thinking not.”

Around lunch time, Bucky had found you alone in the kitchen, making a sandwich. Your hair was still a bit damp from the pool earlier, but so was his.

“Oh!” You jumped, “You snuck up on me!”

“Sorry,” he blushed.

Next thing he knew, he was standing right beside you, behind the kitchen island.

You seemed just as surprised at his proximity, he usually stayed a fair distance away from everyone. Minus Steve, maybe.

He mumbled something, searching your face.

“What?” You asked.

“Um, what are you making?”

“Just a sandwich.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“I don’t know, I kinda grabbed whatever I could find from the fridge.”

He felt himself smile.

“What?” You laughed, noticing his weird reaction.

“You’ve got—” he paused, hesitating to bring his hand up, “here, I got it.”

He brought his thumb to your left cheekbone, carefully wiping away a smudge of mustard you had managed.

“Oh,” you giggled. But he didn’t take his hand away. He just let it lightly hover, looking wistfully from his hand by your cheek to your glittering eyes.

“Is that sandwich for me?” Tony’s voice penetrated the bubble Bucky had found himself in.

Immediately, Bucky brought his arms to his sides and stepped away from you, backing up a ridiculous five feet.

He saw a glimpse of hurt and confusion on your face, but it quickly dissipated into a teasing smile.

“Sorry Iron Man, but this sandwich is mine.” You crossed your arms.

“Well, this kitchen is mine. My kitchen, my rules, yeah?”

“Alright, just take the sandwich.”

“Is that yellow or Dijon mustard I see on it?”

“Yellow.”

“Damn. I prefer Dijon.” Tony quipped back.

Bucky did what he did best, standing and watching from afar.

Tony glanced over at him and back at you. The man leaned over the counter.

“Come here.” He gestured for you to lean in.

You gave him a suspicious look but stepped closer, leaning over the island.

Tony brought his hand up to where Bucky had just had his, and swiped.

“Weird, I thought I saw a smudge of something.” Tony teased, looking back over at Bucky.

Bucky felt his cheeks flush. Damn Stark, and having to ruin everything. Bucky didn’t care how you responded, he suddenly felt the urge to get the hell out.

“Buck–” he heard you start to call, but he was already half-way out the door.

Bucky was laying face down on his bed when he heard the knock at his door.

“Who is it?” He grumbled.

There was no response.

“Hello?”

Begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and opened the door. No one was there. He looked down and finally noticed the note at his feet. He glanced down the empty hallway before picking up the small paper and going back into his room.

“Meet me in my room in 5 minutes. Go ahead in, I’ll be there soon.

From, Y/N”

His heart started to race.

You were inviting him into your room? Your space. God, this has got to be a dream. Finally, he can be close to you and not worry about anyone interrupting. His head was so clouded with the anticipation of you that he didn’t even think to wonder what you wanted to meet him for. Or why you felt the need to put it in a note.

You said to meet in five minutes, but he couldn’t help himself. He left immediately for your room and was three minutes early. He tugged at his hair for a minute, and rocked on his heels. He couldn’t take it. What’s two minutes?

He knocked on your door and it creaked open.

He let himself in, like you asked, and nearly sat on the edge of your bed, but thought it too intimate, opting for your cozy chair in the corner. It smelled like you.

Soon after, he heard steps coming down the hall and closer to your door.

He tried to keep his body still, but he wanted to meet you halfway. He’d never felt so impatient.

The door slowly started to open…

Bucky blanched.

“Peter?”

“I’m really sorry about this Sergeant Barnes.” The kid gave him apologetic eyes.

“Sorry about w—” Bucky didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Peter shot two webs, both landing perfectly in place where Bucky’s arms rested on the chair.

“Mr. Starks orders.” Peter burst out, right before making his quick exit out the door.

Before Bucky could even start to badger the kid, two faces appeared in the doorway.

“Stark! What the fuck is going on?!” Bucky yelled, and turned his attention to the other body. “Wilson, I swear to fucking god—”

“Cool it Tin Man, this is for your own good,” Tony started, “this way you have to confront your feelings for Y/N.”

“I don’t have feelings for—” Bucky started to bark back, but Sam interrupted from the doorway.

“Don’t lie, Buck, I talked to Y/N earlier. You were late because you went swimming, fully clothed, just to be near her. That’s crazy!”

“Psychotic, really,” Tony added.

“Desperate, is what it is.” Sam pointed. “Sorry to do this to you, really, but it’s for your own good. And hers too.”

The men started to close the door, and Bucky seethed, “Don’t you dare, I will kill you both!”

He was seeing red.

Stark's muffled remark came behind the door.

“Good luck, we’re rooting for you!”

“STARRRRKK—”

He tried thrashing, but it was useless. He was feeling murderous. The chair bumped onto the ground as he repeatedly attempted to stand up and free his wrists from their confines.

But his anger swiftly turned to panic the second he sensed footsteps and heard your light humming nearing the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, willing the web to dissolve.

But it was too late. You opened the door, and spotted him immediately.

“Wha—Bucky?”

“Hey, hi, yeah,”

“Are you alright?” You asked, looking around the room for any other unusual signs. “What are you doing here? Is that Peter’s web?”

“You see, I can explain,” he started, already breathless.

“Okay…”

“Um, I got a note from you saying to meet you in your room, and so that’s why I’m here. Obviously, you didn’t write it, but I didn’t know that at the time so I let myself in, but then Parker popped out of nowhere, webbed me to the chair, and then Stark and Sam appeared and said stuff and essentially this is all an elaborate prank on behalf of them.”

You just looked at him.

“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy, I get it, it sounds unbelievable, but I swear to god that is what happened.”

“Relax, Bucky, I believe you. I just don’t get the joke.” You crossed your arms, lost in thought.

“They’re twisted, who knows what they are ever thinking.”

“I just don’t understand why they’d do this.”

“I don’t know, they wanted us to talk, it’s stupid.” He rolled his eyes.

“Talk? About what?”

Bucky didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. A look of realization and a twinge of shame crossed your face.

“Oh, is this about the other day? Bucky, I’m really sorry. I was just trying to help you get the web off, I didn’t know I’d get stuck to you. I’m really, really, sorry, I never would have done it if I’d known. I know you value your space, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I apologize.”

Bucky started to sputter, not even sure how to correct how wrong you were.

“Oh my gosh! And now you’re trapped in my room, it’s happening again. I’m sorry, you probably want to be as far away as possible from me right now. I’ll go find the web dissolver, I’ll give you space,”

“No, I don’t want space.” He blurted. Well, no going back now. “I want to be…close to you.” He whispered, ducking his head in humiliation.

You simply shook your head, not understanding.

“I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing. Ever since we got stuck together, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being close to you. I don’t know what’s happened to me, maybe it’s just that I haven’t been so close to another person in so long, or something else is wrong with me. I see you and I’m itching to be closer. It’s like when the web dissolved a magnet took its place. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why do you assume I don’t feel the same way?”

“You—” Bucky blinked, “you what?”

“Maybe I like being close to you too? Maybe I’m embarrassed because you started to run away from me?”

“Fuck, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just a new feeling for me and I don’t completely understand it, and I don’t want Stark making me feel like a fool.” He hung his head. “Which he’s doing a really good job of right now.”

“Forget Stark, he can be a raging asshole.” You spotted the way he was struggling against the restraints. “Let me make a quick call, and then we can continue this conversation.”

You quickly picked up your phone, tapped around, and held the phone to your ear. It rung three times before someone answered.

“Peter?… No, I’m not angry…Yes, I am disappointed...Just bring the web solution…No, he won’t kill you…Yes, I promise…Okay, hurry.”

You hung up and turned your attention back to Bucky.

“So, you like me?”

He felt his cheeks warm.

“I mean… yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, Bucky.” You smiled.

A minute or two later Peter knocked on the door, and peeked his head in with the formula.

“Please don’t be disappointed in me. I was just listening to Mr. Stark.” He begged you, his eyes wide looking into yours.

“Fine, I’m not disappointed.” You relented, always merciful. “But let this be a lesson in establishing boundaries. And I think I need to have a chat with Tony about taking advantage of you.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He sighed, handing you the bottle and rag.

“But, I think you owe someone else an apology.”

Peter looked Bucky in the eyes for the first time since the door opened.

“I’m really sorry Sergeant Barnes. That wasn’t cool of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Whatever, just get outta here, kid.” He gave a small wave of his hand, which looked a bit awkward considering his forearms were still glued down.

That was pretty much as close as Bucky could get to accepting an apology.

Peter scurried off and you got to work on freeing Bucky.

Bucky was snuggled against you on the couch. He squeezed you tight, his big arms wrapped around your body. He had his head resting on your chest, and you were rubbing small circles on his back.

You had both been there for nearly an hour, unmoving from your spot.

Bucky heard you mumble a stern, “Behave,” to Tony when he walked in. Knowing he was defeated, he put his arms up in protest and walked on by without a single quip. Truly a feat for Iron Man.

He couldn’t be happier, being so close to your warmth.

Bucky didn’t know a lot of things. Like why he wasn’t dead yet, how Tony Stark could be such a pain, and what the hell is flan? But he did know one thing. That being close to you was the most perfect thing. It just feels right. You feel right. And he’s elated to know that there are a million more cuddles to come.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope this lived up to the first part, or at least was somewhat close? I hope you have a wonderful day, and let me know what you think!

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky fluff

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admirationandromantics · 7 months ago

Text

Going overboard, 6: Vengance

As you can imagine, this chapter does not feature Josh. I know! Scandalous, but it had to happen. It's also a very short chapter, but I'll make it up by posting the other one in not long (aka today). Hope you're still keeping up, can't wait for your reactions to the next one. Again, reminding people that my blog is 18+, and requests are open!

I wake up slowly, head hurting and nausea overtaking me. It takes a while for my vision to clear again. The last thing I remember is Josh being on top of me, kissing me, before forcing a mask on me, breathing in the substance. I try to get up, but find it impossible. I’m tied down to a chair, hands behind the back and feet in the front. My legs are tired, occasionally twitching from the overstimulation I suffered. He took off my shoes, which are lying on the opposite side, but I’m still wearing my normal clothes. The room itself is quite small, still made with concrete walls and floors. I look around, desperate for anything that can help me get out, but I guess he learned his lesson from the last time he locked me in.

He tricked me. He went down on me, pleasing me, caressing me, just for me to be gassed and tied up. He manipulated me, using the worst of tricks to get me out of the way. Lying, manipulation, scheming… This is not the Josh I know, or even want to know.

I suddenly get a sinking feeling. I remember finding his meds, his untouched ones. He’s definitely off his medications, but I didn’t know he would get this bad. He said that he’d been planning this for a long time, planning on putting his friends in misery and scaring them for their lives. Now I get why he didn’t want me here. I had nothing to do with it, but why, why hurt Chris then? Chris hadn’t done anything to him. None of this made sense, but in his head, it did. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He can’t. Who would do stuff like this to someone?

“Pssst.” I jump, looking around for the voice.

“Down here” someone whispers. I look around, noticing an opening with small grills. Behind, is Sam and Mike.

“Oh my gosh, guys” I whisper.

“Are you okay?” Mike asks, trying to look me up and down, but the chair makes it difficult.

“I’m fine, but there’s this maniac-”

“We know” Sam states. “He tried to get me, but I managed to hide”

“No, no, you don’t know” I say, starting to get emotional.

“Hey, it’s okay. Can you try getting over here?” Mike asks. I use my feet, and try to push towards the bars. It takes a couple of tries, but I make it. Mike takes out a machete, and cuts the ties on my arms. The blade glides, and makes several small cuts on my arm.

“Ouch”

“Sorry”

I free my arms, turning around to get the blade from him. I cut the ties on my legs, standing up and getting my shoes. My legs are wobbly, tired and used up. Small tears form in my eyes, but I quickly dry them off. I walk back to them and sit down while dressing myself.

“Mike, where’s Jessica, she’s not with you?” I ask, remembering how they left together. His eyes fill with dread, a sad look coming over him.

“Jessica is dead.” My heart stops. No, she can’t be.

“What?”

“And there’s something else too” Sam adds. I dread the coming words. This can’t get worse. Maybe Josh faked Jessica’s death too. Maybe she’s also tied up in one of these rooms, safe.

“Josh is dead too”

“No, wait, Sam”

“I saw it, the killer, he played a video, showing it to me”

“No, Sam, you don’t understand”

“We’ve got no time for this now” Mike interrupts. We both stay silent. He walks a couple of steps back. Pointing to something in the room.

“There’s this door here, it won’t open. Think you can unlock it from your side?” I nod, standing up and opening the door out of the room. There’s a long hallway with two doors. The one to the left must definitely be them. I open the door for them, and they look at me with worry.

“I’m okay, just a little dirty” I say, completely forgetting about the blood.

“Jeez, Mike, you look like hell”

“Nice to see you too”

Sam is wearing a training suit, red and black. It looks awfully familiar.

“Beautiful as ever” I tell her.

“At least someone thinks so” she says, looking up at Mike who rolls his eyes.

Suddenly, we hear a bang, like something being shot. The sound repeats two more times afterwards. What the hell.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know”

We all look at the closed metal door. I look at Sam, and she nods. We all push it, trying to get it open. Just as it does and we make our way inside, Chris and Ashley are sitting at a table. Chris with a gun against his neck. Before I can react, I hear another shot.

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 4 months ago

Note

Idk if I sent you the wrong ask that’s completely unrelated, if I did my bad 😭

What I meant to send:

Can we get this ask but for the other half the cast?

The main boys are here!

Horrorswap Sans - Nugget jumps in surprise and instinctively bites your hand, growling angrily. Yeah. Maybe don't hit a traumatized soldier, that might not end well. He's not apologizing either lol, he has his pride.

Horrorswap Papyrus - His eyes widen in pure terror and he throws himself on the floor, trembling in fear, apologizing again and again. Jeez, don't hit the traumatized beaten baby as well! What's wrong with you?! Are you proud of yourself?

Horrorfell Sans - He doesn't flinch. But he has that sparkle in his eyes. You take a step back, asking him to reconsider, but that's too late. Copper lunges at you, throw you on his shoulder like a potato bag, and runs to the bedroom, giggling like an evil gremlin. He has only one arm, how is he so strong?

Horrorfell Papyrus - He stares at you in silence, so judgy, then he turns his wheelchair around and leaves, still staring at you. He won't stop staring at you dramatically until he can't see you anymore actually. He hopes you feel guilty.

Horrorswapfell Sans - Well, jumpscare. Bear screams in shock and fear and sends bones flying everywhere around him to try to kill whatever just attacked him. Could you... NOT HIT BLIND PEOPLE???

Horrorswapfell Papyrus - Tiger grabs your hand mid-air, makes you fly above his head and slams you on the floor at full strength. ... Oops. He tries to apologize, but you're a little passed out right now. He decides to teleport you to the living room so Willow finds you and does something about this lol. He's out of there.

Outertale Sans - He flies up, just out of reach from one or two fingers, and smirks at you like an asshole. Aw, what's up shortie? Not tall enough to reach him, too bad. You jump in the air, forcing him to fly higher fast to dodge you. He knocks himself out against the ceiling and falls at your feet like a dead fly.

Outertale Papyrus - He gasps loudly, then slowly and very dramatically touches his cheek, looking at you with very exaggerated shock. Yeah, because he's totally not the one who tried to scare you on purpose, right? Actions have consequences.

Dancetale Sans - He does the Michael Jackson scream and then randomly moonwalks out of the room. You're a bit confused about what just happened.

Dancetale Papyrus - He grabs your hand and starts to tango the hell out of you. You're not ready, trips and faceplants on the floor the second he lets go of you. That hurts.

Dancefell Sans - Rumba gives you a very offended look, crosses his arms, and pouts like a child until you kiss him on the cheek to apologize. What do you mean he's the one who started it?

Dancefell Papyrus - You had the brilliant idea to slap him in the middle of an Instagram live. The video went viral in a few hours and now everyone is accusing you of abusing your boyfriend lol. Tango swears he's going to fix this, but you're still waiting. He's the one who started it anyway, why are you the one getting canceled?

Farmtale Sans - Sam is not amused. He doesn't move at all, staring at you in complete silence. It lasts for only a few seconds though and then he acts normal again. You think it's cool and everything until the evening, when you taste the most salty soup you ever eaten in your life.

Farmtale Papyrus - When you lift your hand, he instinctively throws his console controller at your face. You both hit the other at the same time. Both of you are now whining pitifully. Sam screams at you two to stop fighting like children from the kitchen.

Mafiatale Sans - Oh, come on! It was funny! Demon is not mad, but he thinks your reaction is unfair. He scared you with the rules, stop pouting! It's not his fault you can't take a little scare. He should be the one offended actually.

Mafiatale Papyrus - "NEVER DO THAT AGAIN." Yeah. Yeah, you're pissing yourself right now. Creeper is dead serious, or at least you think he is. That's pretty terrifying. You don't want to piss him off.

Mafiafell Sans - As soon as you hit Fang, his dog jumps and bites your arm, shaking it everywhere angrily as you scream in pain and surprise. Fang keeps apologizing and begs you to forgive him. He forgot about this! He knows he's an idiot, please don't get mad at him!

Mafiafell Papyrus - You can hear each and every mafia member gasps loudly as you slap their boss. You gasp too, honestly. You try to apologize, but Torpedo just smirks and starts laughing. You're so confused, but a bit relieved. He likes people not fearing him. It's turning him on actually. You don't want to hear more about this actually.

Ink - Ok, he kinda deserved it. Ok, maybe he might have overreacted, opened a portal under your feet and watched silently as you fell into a random universe. But you're not too mad at him, right? ... Right? ... Wait, where did he send you again? ... Uh oh.

Error - Error glitches hard, crashes and faceplants on the floor. You decide it's best to leave him be and run away before he realizes what just happened.

Disbelief Papyrus - His eyes flash a threatening orange for a second, but he quickly gets a hold of himself and acts like nothing happened. He's a bit agitated after that though. He was really close to attacking you, and that's bothering him.

Killer Sans - He dodges your hand, kicks your leg instinctively and watches as you lose balance and faceplants at his feet, doing absolutely nothing to even try to prevent you from hurting yourself. Oops.

Dustale Sans - He's not mad, just excited. He growls playfully at him. The second you ask him what's his problem, he runs away on all four and starts running around the trees at full speed. He's never coming back though. Good luck in convincing him to enter the house again.

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my-prompt-dump · 1 year ago

Text

Wincest/Gencest/Weirdcest

I can't remember if Charlie met Jack but no one here is dead and everyone is sorta friends.

Also was supposed to be a Fem!Sam au but I can always make another post with that version if any of you want!

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

Someone screams in the bunker and keeps screaming. It Dean was already up at the first scream and was about to run to whoever was in trouble until the door to his room opened with a bang.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS???"

It was Charlie, holding a... copy of Vogue Magazine? Ugh, Dean is too tired for this. He flops back down to sit in his bed. He's exhausted as fuck but he knows he can't go back to sleep now.

"Jesus, Charlie. I thought someone was dying"

"I wish I was! Cos you just scarred me for life!"

Dean looks at his phone to see that it was still 8 in the morning. Okay, too early.

"Will you two please shut up?" A voice says behind Dean. There buried under their blanket and a mountain of pillows is Sam, birds nest hair and all.

"No! Just- Here! What the shit is this?!"

She shoves the magazine right up to Dean's face and he takes it to see it better.

"Holy shit!"

He feels Sam sit up and position himself to look over his brother's shoulder.

"Oh. They actually did it."

"Man, looks like they weren't full of shit after all. Hey, Sammy, you think we can still get royalties from this?"

Charlie makes an indignant noise. "Huh???"

Dean is still grinning proudly but at least Sam sends an apologetic look her way.

"We were broke." He says like that explains everything. Sam must have seen the doubt in her face because he repeats himself.

"That's literally the whole story, Charlie. We were broke. Chuck didn't include this in the books?"

"NO?? What's the story of this then? Please elaborate for my sanity."

"I would like to know too."

They all turn to the door and see Castiel there, Jack smiling shyly behind him.

Sam and Dean share a look, doing that soulmate annoying silent telephatic talking voodoo whatchumacallit with each other.

Dean stares at the picture again on the page. A picture that takes up the entire spread of the page, followed by an interview with the owners of a booming clothing line.

The picture is him and Sam in their younger years, in a position that will never make people guess they were brothers. They are hugging and wearing clothes too fancy for either of them to ever own. Dean's back is to the camera, but his head is facing right so that his eye is still trained to the lens of the camera; protective and possessive. He's standing in between Sam who was sitting on a table, legs wrapped around his older brother's waist. Sam's arms are around his shoulders, fingers almost clawing his back. His brother's eyes are looking directly at the front; dangerous and equally possessive as Dean's.

Not only that, they were wet and made to look sweaty as fuck so it looks like it's a during-sex kinda shot.

Jeez, how did they agree to that. Not a single thing about this shot was promoting the clothes, you can't even see them properly!

"Alright, but no talking or we're stopping."

They all nod and begin to listen intently.

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

Flashback to teen Sam (19) and Dean (23) being banned from every bar at an nth mile radius because of constant hustling and brawls but they're almost out of the allowance John gave them.

John told them it'd be enough til he comes back and that they need to leave as soon as he's back so "no need to get a job, Dean".

Dean should've gotten one anyway just in case because even if he went and got one now, they'd be starving before he gets his first paycheck.

Sam was walking home from school one day and spots an ad stapled to a pole.

'Urgent: Looking for models for our clothing line! Not a scam! Inquire at XXX-XXX'

He thinks it over and says fuck it, he is not having junkfood for dinner again.

Arriving home, he slams the poster at the table where Dean was cleaning their guns.

"Fuck!"

Sam pays him no mind and just points at the thing.

"Let's do it."

At first Dean was confused but he sees the ad and raises an eyebrow at his brother.

"One day of our photos being taken and we'll get money enough to last us a week. Come on."

"Don't know what you're thinkin but we are not models, Sammy."

"We're not ugly, Dean."

"Being not ugly doesn't mean we can model, dude."

Dean would marry himself if he could, that is how good looking his brother thinks he is. Sam was relying on Dean's vanity to get him on board but this. This wasn't what he was expecting.

Well.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

"What? Lady-killer Dean Winchester is too chicken to be rejected and find out he's not that handsome after all?"

Dean freezes and Sam already knows he won.

Dean's pride is so easy to mess with.

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

It's a starting clothing business that hopes to be big one day. They didn't want to spend too much money but figured that investing in good quality will get them far.

So when two guys in secondhand clothes from Goodwill came for the modelling job, they were hesitant. But when they were cleaned up by the crew, they look like proper models. Handsome, beautiful, pretty, fit, TALL.

Brothers they say but there's an air around them that they can use to say otherwise.

They dressed them up, did their make up, gave them a wet look for the final set and they were done.

Their first promotional poster was born.

Sam and Dean went home with a month's worth of cash and the company was left breathless.

It took them a while to get an audience to see them but it was that photo that blew the growing internet up and put them in the spotlight.

They have it framed in the middle of their new big ass studio like a trophy.

Years later, when they were reached out to by Vogue (VOGUE!!) for an interview about their journey, they knew what photo to use as a centrepiece for their page.

#wincest #samdean #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #weecest #weechesters #teenchesters #spn #supernatural #gencest #weirdcest #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #colin ford #brock kelly

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ironwafflee · 3 months ago

Text

DAY WITH.. THE AVENGERS

context: your the newest avenger, youve been here for around 3 months and you need little more extra training.

PART 1

female pov | black female pov

6:30 AM

rise and shine! get ready to start your day with the avengers!

7:00 PM

breakfast time is always the time where you guys either laugh till you cant breathe or argue for the stupidest reasons ever.

“okay first off these pancakes taste absolutely delicious, who the hell made them this morning?” sam says stuffing his mouth

“swallow then talk. please stop being so damn gross.” bucky says

“buck, maybe you should shut the hell up, i was just trying to complement the pancakes.”

“not this morning. absolutely not. finish eating with out arguing today.” you say

8:00-9:10 AM

gun training with bucky can be fun but when you miss a few shots from the middle target.. ehh not so fun

“y/n, get it together your aim is bad today.”

“im tryingg.”

“try harder y/n.”

9:10-10:00

combat fighting practice with nat is ALWAYS fun, she knows how to train you but also be the coolest and funniest friend ever

“y/n your doing good just make sure to not to move your hip when you swing for the punch, keep a steady base.”

“okay im ready i can do it”

as you go to swing and do the feedback nat gave you she brings up the stupidest thing ever that actually makes you audibly laugh out loud.

“hey you remember last week when tony fell down the stairs.?”

“NAT!”

10:00-11:00 AM

jeez, after all that its time for your first out of three showers of your busy day.

11:00- 1:30 PM

after getting our the shower you head down to help tony with some engineering which is one of you favorite things to do so your always staying a little later than usual

“okay tony, what can i help you with today..?”

“hey, hi okay. i need you to organize my whole area over there and i need you to take down 3 pages back to back for notes.”

“oh.. okay!”

so maybe today wasn’t your lucky day with doing the easy peasy stuff.

1:30-6:05 PM

everything has caught up to you and your drained. time for you nap!

“hey anyone know where y/n is?” steve asks

“uhh not sure” sam replies with his head in his phone.

“lets just go check her room.” tony suggests.

the team nods in agreement going upstairs to check of you were in your room.

when they open the door, they see you bundled up in the huge white blanket they gave you with your singular plushie you brought from home.

“aww she looks adorable” nat says giggling

“she must’ve been drained she did a lot today.” bucky said

“maybe we can take her to the beach right outside as a treat when she wakes up.” wanda says

“good idea”

6:00-8:30 PM

when you first put in your resume for the avengers you put that you loved the beach, especially at sunset, so when the avengers told you that they would take you to the beach as a token of reward for all your hard work this week and today, you immediately shot up put of bed kicking them all out so you can pick from one of your many bathing suits you brought

with you.

when you guys finally got to the beach, tony unfolded his chair and put on his favorite sunglasses on reading his magazine bruce and thor were oddly building some kind of castle or something of that matter in the sand. steve, wanda and natasha were racing across the sand until steve fell on his face and ultimately quit. only you and bucky left.

today during practice you didn't do as good as the other weeks so as your punishment, bucky picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder aggressively but reassuring

"uhh bucky where are we going?"

"you can swim right, doll?" he asked you smirking

"uh yea i ca- oh bucky you better not throw me in that water i swear to go-"

and he threw you, going into the water with you. you found yourself playfully wrestling with Bucky in the water. the two of you splashed and chased each other, your laughter mingling with the cries of seagulls flying overhead. when you came up from the water you tackled bucky once more and and threw him under as well. this went on for ages until you suddenly were grabbing buckys face as he smiled and tried to escape your hands you hadn't even realized until you guys got home but bucky was holding your waist the whole time. his fingers interlocked just for "extra protection"

tony, bruce, wanda, thor, steve and natasha all watched cracking up on the sand amused that someone would fight bucky barnes like you did, let alone in the water. one thing they all noticed was that he was actually being quite gentle with you opposed to if that were him and steve or him and natasha. smiles come accross there faces when they see you two coming out the water giggling and laughing.

"well you two had some fun eh?" tony asks smirking

"yea he kept cheating and grabbing my legs" you say smiling wiping the water from your face

"nuh uh, you grabbed my face that should not count" he shot back

you giggle at his remark remembering how you did hold is face to try and take him under

"okay fair point barnes." you say giving up

everyone e goes silent looking at the waves and the sun setting.

"you guys are so cute just date please"

natasha says breaking the silence

"absolutely not" you two look down at her saying at the same time

"well jeez!!" she says

you all laugh out loud on the sandy beach still drying off admiring the beach and sunsets beauty with your new found best friends. you haven't been able to call someone, let alone people, your best friend so being able to have that privilege warms your heart and makes you feel good inside and out never wanting to leave this moment and stay here forever.

#marvel #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor odinson #the avengers #day with avengers #small #bucky barnes #marvel x reader #sfw interaction only #so cute #first post #i love him #james bucky buchanan barnes #beach

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onceuponastory · 2 years ago

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love me, too - sam wilson x reader

I hope we kiss goodnight It might just end my life - kiss goodnight by i don't know how, but they found me

Plot: One night in Delacroix, Y/N and Sam sit together on his sister's porch swing. Sam is preoccupied with Sarah and Bucky’s growing romantic interest in one another… whilst Y/N is preoccupied with her romantic interest in Sam. Pairing: Sam Wilson x Female!Reader. Also hinted Bucky x Sarah (Bucky has a crush). Warnings: A small mention of alcohol, and just a lot of sickly sweet fluff. But as always, if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is for @flufftober Day 7: Porch Swing. I love writing Sam fluff, he's the best, and I adore this story, so I hope you all love it too! 💖 Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Y/N, when are you going to stop torturing yourself?” Bucky asks from beside her as he takes a swig from his beer. Y/N frowns. She went outside to sit on Sarah's porch swing for a moment of relaxation and solitude. She came to Delacroix for a break from the city and to unwind. Of course, seeing Sam, Sarah, Bucky, AJ and Cass was the main reason, but she can see why they love it so much whenever she’s there. It’s so peaceful, and the townspeople are so welcoming. So when Bucky joined her and told her he needed to ask her something, she definitely was not expecting such an intense question to leave his lips.

“Jeez, deep much? And besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s a lie.” Another swig. When Y/N stays silent, Bucky rolls his eyes. “Really? You’re not going to talk now?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She lies again, which Bucky once again picks up on immediately.

“Mhm. Sure. I may be an old man, but I’m not stupid.” He raises a brow, staring at her and just waiting for her to break. When she still doesn’t take the bait, Bucky sighs. “I’m talking about how insanely in love with Sam you are, and how you still haven’t told him yet.” Y/N gasps, swatting at his arm. Bucky may be one of her best friends in the world… but he’s also a complete pain in the ass.

“Shut up!” She hisses. “It’s none of your business when, or even if, I’ll tell him. Besides, did you really come out here just to pester me on my dating life?” Y/N asks. Bucky shakes his head.

“Nope. Sarah wanted me to ask you if you want some ice cream.” He smiles, and Y/N raises a brow.

“Oh, you wanna talk about my dating life? How about your huge crush on Sarah, lover-boy?” Bucky’s face goes scarlet, and Y/N’s burst of laughter fills the air. “I knew it!” She gasps. “You’re absolutely not one to talk about me not telling Sam. When are you going to tell Sarah?”

“I-I don’t know!” He stammers. “Anytime I go near her, Sam stares daggers at me.” He groans, and Y/N nods. She’s definitely been witness to a few of those looks. If looks could kill, Bucky would be in serious trouble. “Look at us. Best friends, and each in love with one of the Wilsons.”

“And we’re both terrified to tell them the truth.”

Bucky chuckles. “How about we just both agree to tell them whenever we’re ready? …Whenever the hell that is.” He suggests, and Y/N agrees. “Perfect. I’m gonna head back in, you coming?” Bucky asks, and Y/N shakes her head.

“I’ll stay here for a bit. See you later.” As Bucky departs, Y/N settles back into her seat, staring out at the sunset, and the sky’s vibrant pink and purple hues. God, it’s so beautiful out here.

For a while, she’s alone with her thoughts, until:

“Hey, you. Buck said you were out here on your own. What’s up?” Sam asks, sitting down beside her.

“Of course he did. I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

She looks over at Sam, who grins back at her, turning his body to face her. As she wonders what it would be like to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she can already register her heart beating just that little faster. Despite the cooler chill in the air as autumn makes its way in, being with Sam like this makes her feel all warm and cosy inside. Well… that’s how Sam always makes her feel. Initially, she thought you felt this way towards everyone, including friends. But then she realised that nobody else makes her feel so content, or can make her laugh as hard as Sam does. Nobody else would let her call them at all hours of the night for a chat, even if it’s about mindless nonsense.

Nobody ever cares as much about her as Sam Wilson does.

And god, she loves him so much.

“Hey yourself. I could ask you the same question, you know.” Sam chuckles, a classic Sam Wilson smile that sends her heart into a flutter. She hopes his reply is something like:

“I just wanted to see you.” or “I have to tell you something.” Unfortunately though, it’s not that. “Oh my god, I just had to get away from my sister and Bucky flirting with one another. It’s driving me insane.” Y/N rolls her eyes, suppressing a groan. Here it comes.

Ever since she arrived, Sam has been complaining about Bucky's crush on Sarah, and Sarah's reciprocated feelings for him. And since he can’t take his frustrations out on either of them, he's dumping it all on her. Of course, she understands he just wants to protect his sister, and despite knowing Bucky’s a good guy, it’s natural to worry. At first, she was thankful for his complaining, since it gave her a chance to think about something that wasn’t her crush on Sam. Now, though, it’s driving her crazy.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.” she murmurs, and Sam raises a brow.

“You sure? You look….” He murmurs, and she rolls her eyes.

“Well Sam, there’s only so many times you can hear about Bucky and Sarah staring at each other.” She points out, and he nods.

“I know, I know.” His words make Y/N breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, it's over. Until: “I just don’t get it! Like what could she possibly see in-“

“Oh my god, Sam, please stop.” She groans, leaning against the back of the swing.

“But- “

“No! That’s all I’ve had to put up with since I got here!” She exclaims. “And I understand you’re nervous, but Bucky’s a great guy and Sarah will be fine. She's raising those two boys by herself, I think she can handle your best friend.” In hindsight, she should’ve calmed down and thought about what she was going to say next. But after spending so long bottling things up, she’s ready to erupt. “This was supposed to be a relaxing trip, and I wanted to tell you how I feel about you!”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, his brow raised and his voice suddenly more serious.

“I was going to tell you I love you!” She gasps. Her admission shocks them both, and her eyes widen. “Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh, fuck.”

“Oh. Oh.” Sam murmurs. The embarrassment comes then, almost drowning her under its weight. It’s too late to turn back now, to protect her heart before it shatters completely.

So, since she’s already digging herself a giant hole, she might as well keep going.

“Fuck, Sam, I have been in love with you for… to be honest, I lost count.” She chuckles awkwardly. Sam doesn’t laugh. Or smile. He just stares at her, which makes Y/N’s anxiety kick into overdrive. “I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same.” She lies. Honestly, it would tear her apart, to give so much of her heart to one person, her favourite person in the entire world, and receive nothing in return. “I just couldn’t go another day without telling you.”

“Y/N.” Sam speaks, his voice a lot softer now. He scoots closer, so much so their bodies are almost touching. “I’m sorry.” And then, Y/N truly wants the ground to swallow her whole. She tries to stand up, ready to leave and to forget this ever happened… until: “I wasn’t finished.” Sam chuckles. He takes a deep breath. “I was going to say I’m sorry for being so focused on my feelings and not paying attention to you.” He finds her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from his touch, and she slowly starts to calm down. “And I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He continues, and she raises a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell you how I feel about you.” He answers, and her mouth drops open. Sam leans in, cupping her cheek. “I love you so much. You’re the most gorgeous woman I know, and I’m so glad you love me, too. Although, I don’t think anyone could love you as much as I love you.” A deep heat settles on her cheeks, and Sam chuckles. “Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

“I really want you to kiss me, too.” Smiling, Sam leans in close, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It’s perfect, like one of those rom-com kisses where the music reaches a crescendo and you feel it throughout your entire body. It’s better than anything she’d wished for.

They sit there for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Watching as the sun disappears below the horizon, and as the stars and moon appear. “I love you, you know that?” Sam asks, and Y/N giggles.

“Yeah, I think you mentioned that once or twice.” But she still can’t stop grinning like a fool. A total, lovesick fool. Sam kisses her temple.

“Well, you better get used to hearing it more and more, because I’ll never let you forget it.”

“Good.” She smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

“I am sorry for being a pain in the ass, though.” Sam repeats, and Y/N chuckles.

“You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve more than made up for it anyway.” She grins, raising a brow, and Sam kisses her temple.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” She giggles, and Sam grins.

“Well, I’m going to keep telling you. Because I do love you Y/N, and I never want you to forget that.” Y/N smiles, pecking his lips.

“I could never forget you, Sam. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.” She teases, and Sam’s grin grows even wider.

“Sounds perfect.” He smirks, leaning in once more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#flufftober2023 #day 7 #marvel cinematic universe #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson x you #sam x reader #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #sam wilson fluff

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ask-postcrash-curly · 6 months ago

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Hi captain! Are you happy...? You don't look happy... my big sister tells me that when I'm not happy, I should think of something that reminds me of her! I don't know where she went... mama tells me that she's up in space, and that she's a star now! I'm pretty sure she's a pink one, because she loves pink! I hope she comes back home soon though... my names Sam by the way! I'm 8! You look... better then my dad. I hope that wasn't too mean... I hope you feel better! My mama tells me I'm special, cause I can talk to people far away through my mind! Oh! And... have you seen a pink star...? Have you seen my sister? She would probably enjoy taking too you! Bye bye mister captain!

More children in my head? All right.

Hi Sam. Nice meeting you. I’ve been better, to tell you the truth, but I’m the happiest I can hope to be with these circumstances. Hope your dad’s hanging in there. Worse than me… jeez. I can’t see the stars from in here, but if I hallucinate any pink stars, I’ll be sure to let you know. Bye bye, kiddo!

#mouthwashing #captain curly #curly mouthwashing #if this is a reference to something i don’t know it. if it’s an OC thing then sounds cool :D #‘bye bye mister captain’ that’s adorable #curlyposting

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pulpman2 · 4 months ago

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Ambidextrous

Sergeant Anna Harrison was working late, dutifully sorting out the sackloads of War Bonds she needed to ready for depositing with the bank the following morning. The attractive red haired WAC, the poster girl for the Feed Our Guns campaign was pleased with how successful the last month had been in persuading patriotic citizens to help fund the war effort in the Pacific. “There must be nearly $20,000 worth of Bonds here,” Anna said aloud proudly, despite being alone in the depository, “not a bad four weeks’ work - almost worth getting those corns for!” She smiled to herself and picked up the last of the bags when suddenly she was aware of a looming male shape at the reception grill. “I’m sorry, sir,” the female soldier said automatically, “we are closed now. You can buy some Bonds tomorrow though. Uncle Sam will really appreciate it.” Her eyes widened however when the barrel of a handgun poked through the opening of the grill. “I’ll just cash them all in now, sergeant!” the man on the other side growled. “Now open the door and pass the sacks through!”

Dry mouthed, Anna pulled the draw strings of the bag she was holding tight. I’m being robbed, she thought rather obviously. The young woman slowly hoisted the sack onto the counter. She could see the man on the other side of the grill now - a disreputable looking character, she noted, in a scruffy tan suit. Anna said nothing but did not move towards either the door or the other sacks. Instead she looked at the man, seemingly bemused. “You dumb dame!” the man fumed, “either open the door or pile up the sacks! Jeez, I hate broads in uniform!” Anna went towards the sack on the counter, as if to start collecting the bags together, but then she suddenly seized the man’s arm hard, grabbing his wrist with both hands and slamming it sharply three times in succession on the counter. “Arrgh!” yelled the would be robber and his gun fell from his wounded grasp. The svelte sergeant scooped up the weapon in one easy movement and trained it on the man who glared back at her, rubbing his bruised wrist. “Don’t move, creep.” she ordered him. “This broad in uniform knows how to use this gun, so don’t even think of making a run for it!” The man glowered at her. “Take it easy, ma’am, I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he growled sullenly. Anna motioned her prisoner to sit down and then picked up the phone with her right hand after deftly transferring the gun to her left. "Make yourself comfortable, honey, you'll be in a cell before midnight!" The man continued to gaze back at the WAC, his eyes blazing with humiliation. Anna kept the gun trained on him with her left hand. “And don’t get any ideas, jackass,” she told him quietly, “I’m ambidextrous.”

My interpretation of the story behind this cover to 10-Story Detective magazine (September 1942). The magazine did indeed feature ten private eye/crime stories, none of which however bear any relation to the fascinating cover illustration!

#pulp magazine #strong women #capture #adventure #WAC #wartime adventure #female/male conflict #defeated male #10 story detective magazine

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alicepao13 · 8 months ago

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Hudson and Rex S03E12 - Top Dog

That kind of episode is this show was inevitable. I mean, I've seen this plotline in crime shows that have nothing to do with dogs.

Black letters in quotes: Actual quotes.

Green letters in quotes: What I come up with my twisted up brain.

"Charlie, I'm bored. Do something. Entertain me."

More CityNews is probably not what Rex had in mind.

Charlie: "Can I turn it now?" No, you monster. Let him watch dogs.

Serves you right for even opening CityTV, Charlie.

Charlie: "The reason I didn't enter you is because I knew you would win too easily." Rex: *unconvinced growl* Charlie: "No, it is true." You are wasting this dog's talents, Charlie.

So. Many. Dogs.

"Those tattoos shouldn't be allowed at a respectable dog show". Jeez, Karen.

I wish I could say it's bananas that they wanted to continue the show right after Francis was murdered but all the competitions of any kind would have done the same.

This guy's voice is amazing. I hope he's done some voice acting.

Sarah: "Maybe it was the scent of other dogs that Rex was picking up on?" Charlie: "Yeah. Maybe. Rex usually knows better than that." Rex: "Why must we go through this every few cases? I'm not wrong, you guys are wrong."

"I see you brought a lady friend". Sarah didn't hate that. And neither corrected the guy.

"You should enter Rex in the dog show next year". Yeah, now he's considering it.

Kickbacks? Dog competition drama!

"Rex thinks you're innocent. Me, however... I'm gonna take some convincing." Okay, but Rex knows.

Dude corrected Charlie's grammar while being interrogated lol

Shockingly, Sam Barker is a fake name.

"How tall was he or approximately how old?" "Medium height, medium age" lol

"His mediumness" Charlie stop lmao

Why did they place them like the Daltons?

The amount of drool that Tiny left on the guy's pants is definitely something to consider if someone wants to get a big dog. I think the dog's a Newfoundland dog.

Joe: "His entire three million dollar estate is going to Glockenspiel". Charlie: "The dog?" Sarah's look lol. Also, Charlie, who would give his life for Rex, is surprised that another guy would give the fortune to his.

Jesse: "Rex, take note". Rex: "What do you mean? Charlie just bought a new house. He's fucking broke."

"How's a dog gonna spend three million dollars?" Our best and brightest detective, everyone.

"We dog people think about where our dogs will go if something should unexpectedly happen to us". "I assume you have someone in line for Rex". Thank you for that. That gave Charlie thoughts about where Rex would end up.

He really hadn't even thought about it. Buddy, you have a dangerous job and you went through at least two dangerous situations only this season.

I was onto Bianca early on so the twist wasn't much of a surprise.

Rex just scored Charlie and Sarah invitations for the dog show finals.

Oh, here's another dangerous situation, Charlie was shot at. I completely forgot about that.

Oh, I think this shot has been used for promotion.

Thank god that Sarah noticed there was something hinky about Bianca.

Oh, here we go. Parent-trapping time.

"I thought it was time that we had people over to our new pad". This totally sounds like Charlie and Sarah bought the house together, by the way. I mean, she does say that she'll be over with wine right after so there's not even time to misinterpret that but what the hell.

Charlie literally just came up with the idea that Sarah could adopt Rex in the event of his death. Not much of a planner, that one.

Don't scare the woman with that look.

Charlie: "Would you take Rex if something were to happen to me?" Sarah: "Nothing's gonna happen to you. You have plot armor."

Anyway, if the guy in front of me had gone through multiple life or death situations just in that year, I wouldn't bullshit him like that lol. I'd be like, fair enough.

"Will you be my mommy, pretty please?"

"I would be honored". Parent-trapping successful!

Sarah: "You and me, hanging out at the bed..." Charlie: "Uh, he's not allowed on the bed." Shut up, Charlie, you'd be dead.

Yeah, the dog sweater would give me pause as well.

"You're cruel, Doctor. Very cruel." I hate you two and your stupid flirting!

1,700 dollars for a coffee maker?!?! I'm back on my "Charlie is taking kickbacks" theory.

It's the little moments, y'all. Otherwise I don't think I'd remember much of this episode.

#the great hudson and rex rewatch of 2024

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uniasus · 9 months ago

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To Die With You - Part 8

To Die With You is a DP whump fic written for @whumptober, with parts shared in order of prompts, not plot. Follow the To Die With You tag to read throughout the month, or stay tuned for the whole fic to drop on Ao3.

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

Danny leaned over and threw up. Sam was at his side instantly, hand on his back. Her shoes were already green-splattered. Jazz guessed this happened at school too.

“Pretty sure that was my spleen,” Danny said after spitting out bile. “Don’t need it as a ghost, and it’s either soup inside of me or soup outside.”

“Jeezes, Danny.” Sam’s chiding was fond and tired and high. Jazz noticed a shimmer to her cheeks as if she’d never stopped crying and they’d just dripped slowly down her face for the past hour.

“We need to turn it on soon,” Tucker said. “It hasn’t even been off for a full hour and we’ve already feed him more ectoplasm than he eats in month. If he starts to destabilize at the same rate, we’ve got ten minutes until Danny’s not coherent any more.”

Jazz blanched. “This is impacting him that fast?”

But of course it was. He’d already lost organs.

Jack sat on the table’s edge to take off his shoes. “I’ll get it in one toss, just you see-”

“The safety's down.” Maddie said.

Jazz spun to see. How had she not noticed? There was a small, plastic covering over the red button. See through, but there was an obvious hinge and edge where it met the metal casing. It would have to be broken, or lifted, to provide access to the button.

“I’ll push it again.” Danny slid off the table and to his feet, stance wide for balance.

Everyone in the lab protested, but he cut through the complaints. “I survived it before, I’ll survive it again. It’ll be like, like a jacuzzi. Warm and swirly and, and good for my muscles.” He swallowed, biting his lip. “I’ll be fine.”

Maddie drew him into a hug. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I’m the only one-”

“You survived it, why not me?”

“Mom!”

“It’s my machine. Jack’s idea, I’ll admit, but I drew up the blueprints. I did the wiring. I did all the double checks. And I completely missed us putting the button on the inside.” She pulled back and brushed Danny’s cheek with her thumb. “It’s my fault the portal turned on the way it does. It’s my fault you, you died.”

“But I didn’t! I’m still here.”

“Half dead is still dead, Danny,” Jazz said softly.

“I’m your mother. I won’t let you go through that again.”

“We won’t let you go through that again.” Jack placed a hand on Maddie’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine. We’ll be like you. You can teach me how to fly.”

Jazz has always wanted responsible parents. That meant being more aware of their well-being and needs, showing up to parent conferences and occasionally packing lunches. But when Maddie and Jack Fenton got their head in an idea, they went into it full force.

They punched a hole in-between dimensions just because of their single-minded focus on ghost research. Of course they’d go all in on parenting if they switched their attention.

It was years latter than Jazz wanted, but she’d take it.

Jazz ran around the table to hug her parents. Thank you. Sorry it’s like this. Grief. Danny joined in until he pulled away to spit out a shrunken tooth.

While Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s spine in comfort, she watched her parents walk hand-in-hand into the portal. Strong backs. Steady steps.

When the crossed the threshold, she shut her eyes and pulled Danny to her chest. He was more malleable than normal, overflowing in her arms, but Sam and Tucker stepped up next to them to help hold Danny in place.

There was a flash. Two screams. A sudden flood of green light hitting the back of her eyelids.

Jazz opened her eyes to Danny taking a deep breath. No longer starting to ooze, he placed a hand over his side. “I don’t have the ecto to make a new spleen, but I feel so, so much better.”

“Do you think our parents survived?” Jazz whispered. There was always a chance they didn’t.

“Give it thirty minutes,” Sam said, using the bottom of her shirt to whip her face. “Danny didn’t come out right away either.”

“I could go in-”

“You never could before,” Tucker said. “On the other side is the Zone now. We never saw the cave after the first time.”

Together, they sat on the floor in front of the portal, a tangle of arms and legs, with everyone having some contact with Danny.

Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty.

“Maybe we should call Vlad-” Jazz started.

“Shhh.” Danny pushed himself to his feet.

Two glowing forms walked out of the portal.

#whumptober2024 #no.13 #familial curse #danny phantom #the fentons #wip #snippet #my fanfiction #to die with you

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zmediaoutlet · 2 years ago

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soon or never

for @wincestwednesdays - choices

A hand on Sam's shoulder. Hard at first, making him jerk like waking up from a coma, and then softer. "Hey, hey." He blinks, sniffs, wipes his own hand hard over his face. Takes a few seconds to see: the sun sliding toward setting, over a long low motel, with a nearly-empty lot, in which the Impala's parked in front of room number eleven, the engine off and Sam pulled out of a dead sleep with Dean, yes, still holding his shoulder. Warm through his spare jacket.

"Where," he says. Croaks. Jeez.

"Boise," Dean says, and Sam frowns. That's—three hours from Grangeville, the way Dean drives. He thought they'd be a lot closer to home before they stopped for the night. He squints over the seat and Dean's mouth goes thin, and then he shrugs, and takes his hand off Sam's shoulder. "You were moaning in your sleep. Not the fun kind."

Room eleven is blue carpet, blue thick curtains, blue blankets on the two queen beds. Two. Sam's still kind of dizzy. Not enough sleep and too much bloodloss. Dean brings in all the bags himself, moving around where Sam's pinned in the entryway, and then he says, "You planning on taking up work as the human statue?" and so Sam moves—to the table, with its blue-upholstered chair. He tries not to flinch when he sits but that's a lost cause. He keeps holding the bandage on his side. Even with all the stitches it feels like his guts might just spill out, everywhere. Ruin all this blue.

"Dude, you are out of it," Dean says. A thin kind of jocular. Somehow when Sam wasn't paying attention he lost his jacket, his boots. Rolling up his bright-red sleeves. "You getting your weird antibiotic thing again?"

Could be. A little dizzy, a little off. His stomach warm, partway to queasy. There's a hole in it, so. Queasy isn't so bad, as these things go. "Guess that means you're not gonna want the hot & sour I just ordered, huh," Dean says. Sam wrinkles his nose and Dean huffs. "You're gonna have to use your words at some point, buddy-boy."

"I'm not your buddy, pal," Sam says. Throat crackly again but he tries to smile.

"I'm not your pal, champ," Dean says, eyes crinkling at the corners, but he's hardly smiling at all.

Dean brings Sam a glass of cool water from the tap. Sam sips, careful. He's watched for a second, for what Sam doesn't know—in case the glass explodes and cuts him to ribbons, in case he chokes on water and suffocates on dry land—but then Dean seems satisfied that he won't immediately expire and goes to dig in his bag, set on the bed closer to the door. The room full of light, suffusing gold against the sea of blue, and it's good just to sit and look at his brother. The tips of his hair backlit amber. That red shirt, which somehow escaped the day without bloodstains. His square capable hands, tugging out pajama pants, and his forearms ringed in bruises, and his face the familiar set of—just getting to the next thing, and the next thing after that. Like if he sits down he won't ever get up.

"Why am I always the one getting hurt?" Sam says. Dean jerks. "Hole in my gut, last night. My arm, last year. Basically in a coma the year before that. When's it your turn?"

Dean leans one thigh against the bed, pajama pants held up against his stomach. After a second just looking at his bag, he says: "Broke my leg, back when that Levi nearly caught us at Bobby's."

"That when I went into a coma the first time?" Sam says, bright, and Dean snorts and says, "Don't think that was the first time, Sammy," but he says it a little more relaxed.

The water did help, and the sitting up in the light, and just—Dean. Here, and not somewhere with a monster where Sam didn't know what he was doing. If he was okay. Sam takes another moment to drink him in, until Dean finally looks up from his bag and meets his eyes, and Sam smiles again and Dean—Sam doesn't know what that expression is, but Dean's here instead of in some black pit in his head and so that's good enough for Sam.

It's hard to take his jacket off sitting down, strains his gut. "Don't pull your stitches," Dean says. "Hey, don't roll your eyes. That's some high quality fake insurance paying for those stitches."

"Doctor would've done it for free," Sam says. A grunt. He gets free of the second sleeve and drops it on the table. Boots then, but—

"Oh, this is pathetic," Dean says, but soft, and Sam stops toeing at the heel when Dean's suddenly there, on his knees on the blue carpet. His hand sure, dragging down the back of Sam's calf, and Sam picks his foot up obediently when Dean taps the heel and lets Dean tug it off. He makes a face and—yeah, that's not great. He sets the one boot down, though, and Sam gives him the other foot and Dean pulls him clear, and then just—holds Sam's foot, braced against his thigh. Fine with Sam, who wiggles his toes inside his socks. "Don't try to fumigate the room, man," Dean says, nose wrinkled. "Swear, you could've just waved these things at the werewolves and they woulda gone down, quick."

"You love it," Sam says. Dean licks his lips, and presses them together. His eyes some other place.

Dean's fingers flex around his ankle. Sam presses down with his toes, rocks a little, and when Dean looks up Sam raises his eyebrows. Dean shakes his head, but he slides his hands up Sam's shin, and then go around the back of his knee, up the back of his thigh. Squeeze there, hard. Hard enough it hurts, but then the muscle shocks into softness, and Sam sighs, and so then back down to his calf, Dean's fingers moving in hard firm circles. To the tendons in his ankle, squeezing, so that Sam scoots down further into the chair, his body turning slowly to jelly. "Oh, yeah?" Dean says, quiet, and picks up Sam's other foot to set on his other thigh, and repeats the whole process—not making it sleazy, or like he's trying to get Sam going, but just—making all the parts of Sam that are sore as hell after nearly two days in the dark hunted woods back into something that feels like his again. Or like Dean's again. Hard to tell anymore where the line between those lies. These days Sam isn't looking that hard.

When Dean's finished with the left leg he slides his hand back up Sam's calf, hooking there behind his knee. Quiet on his knees, and quiet in the room, too. Not even the sound of traffic outside. Just the two of them breathing, in all this blue. Dean's bruised forearms, and his throat ringed in murky purple, too, and dark under his eyes. The doctor, after stitching up the bullet hole but before she gave Sam the bottle of antibiotics, telling him to look out for his brother.

He lets his feet slide off to the outside of Dean's thighs, and reaches out a hand. Dean ignores it but lifts up on his knees, between Sam's legs, and Sam touches the corner of his scabbed eye and his jaw with too-thick stubble and drags a thumb down the column of his throat. Feels how it bobs. Waits, then, relaxed in the chair, while Dean unbuttons his flannel shirt, and lifts his undershirt, and touches the bandage. Running his fingers along the tape.

"Gonna rip some hair out when we gotta change that," Dean says. His eyes tight at the corners. "Free wax day at the spa."

"Lucky me," Sam says, dry, and watches the air go out of Dean.

He could ask. Right now, he could ask and he'd get the truth. Only—what's the point of asking a question you already know the answer to?

"Hey, Dean," he says, soft. Dean's eyes meet his. Everything in them, unsaid. Sam smiles, small. "When we get home, am I getting another massage?"

Dean scoffs. Stands up using Sam's thighs to brace—"Oof," Sam says, gamely—and Dean says, "You're gonna be lucky to get any at all, if you don't shower off all that werewolf stank." Sam smiles bigger and Dean rolls his eyes. "Oh, yeah, you're adorable."

A knock on the motel room door, then—the Chinese delivery—and before Dean goes Sam catches his forearm, squeezes. Dean takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says, quiet.

Sam watches him take the delivery, tip the kid in cash. The room filling immediately with the smell of fried wontons because Dean always asks for a triple serving. "You eating, or what?" Dean says, dumping the bags on the table, and Sam sits up straight, ignoring the strain on his gut. "I'm eating," he says, and Dean sets the carton of soup firmly in front of him, and Sam thinks—if he hadn't made it back in time—

But he did, and Dean's alive and sitting here, bitching about how they put in way more broccoli than beef, so there's no more call to think about it. He eats his soup, and steals Dean's wontons.

#wincest #wincest wednesday #my writing #if someone tags this gen/weirdcest they get soup in their shoes #have listened to this song about 30 times on repeat while writing #the final chorus is the purest expression of yearning love ever #highly recommend

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