#and sam shame on you for going along with this

[gh-0-stcup]

Dean. Maybe just like. Go on a retreat or something. Find a cabin in some woods with no internet or TV and vibe for a few weeks before you start a revenge quest.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main part 6

Masterpost

This town is weird. Jason knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, considering Gotham and his own attachment to it. But this place is like a nightmare, stuck in time backwards-ness intermingled between the people and the place itself. It reminds him of Fawcett, which is not a good thing. He feels judged just walking down the street.

The head into a diner looking restaurant, fast food by the looks of it, that is in fact named Nasty Burger. Jason knows he shouldn’t judge. He’s doing it anyway.

There’s a girl behind the counter who seems to be glaring at Jason. Or Danny, but since he’s Jason right now, he decides he doesn’t need to deal with whatever her issue is. With little faith, Jason tells Jazz to order for him and goes to sit in a booth. 

The couple in the booth next to him watch him as he heads to his booth and gape at him as he sits down.

“Danny, come on.” The guy whines, he and the girl both stand and come over to sit across from him. “What was that? Don’t want to sit with us?”

 Jason tenses. “Uh.” 

“Hey guys!” Jazz says, coming to sit next to Jason. She places a tray with a burger, fries, and a soft drink in front of him and he eyes it warily. “This is Jason.”

They two across from them get these stupid dumbfounded looks. The girl behind the counter is listening to their conversation.

“Jason, these are Danny’s friends, Sam and Tucker.” Jazz motions to the girl and then the boy.

“Nice to meet you.” Jason inclines his head at them, and decides to try a fry.

“Is he…” Sam stops herself. “Does he know about Danny?”

“Not much, but they haven’t officially met yet, obviously.” Jazz is eating her food like it’s normal, so Jason follows her lead on the burger as well. “Danny should be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Where is Danny now?” Tucker asks, concerned.

“With my family.” Sam and Tucker look at him strangely. He can tell they’re concerned for their friend though. “He’s being driven back now, they’re rotating drivers so they don’t have to stop for the night. He’ll be here as soon as he can.” 

“Danny will be fine until he gets back.” Jazz comforts them. “Danny was more concerned about Jason, considering the food at our house.”

Sam and Tucker tense in response. “Right. I’d be worried about that too. Might want to stay at the house after this anyway.” Sam says lightly. Jason can tell he’s being talked around. Can hear them talking about something they don’t want him to know under the guise of their conversation, but he doesn’t know enough to make sense of it. 

“Let us know if anything comes up of course, but Danny won’t be able to hang out for a while.” Jazz smiles at them, but her eyes are concerned.

“Sure thing.” Tucker says. 

“If you guys want to have a chat where you can actually talk to each other, I can leave you along for a bit.” Jason tells them all. 

“No!” Tucker says quickly. They don't seem like they care that he caught on, there's no shame to be excluding him. They all just seem worried about something. “Best you stay with Jazz.” He turns back to her. “The GIW tools were deactivated. The whole fiasco yesterday was a lot for everyone. But they should be up and running again by tomorrow.”

Jazz nods at them and Sam and Tucker leave, whisper-arguing to each other as they go.

They eat quietly for a minute, but Jazz stiffens as she looks at something out the window.

Jason follows her gaze to see her tracking a man outside. He’s pretty smarmy looking. Long grey hair, in a full suit, seems like more Brucie’s crowd than someone who would be in a place called Nasty Burger. But he’s spotted them through the window and does seem to be on his way in. ““Hey Jason, would it be cool if you went to the bathroom for a second? Nevermind, there’s no time, follow my lead.”

The man walks right up to their booth.

“Daniel, Jasmine, lovely to see you both.”

“Vlad, can we help you?” Jazz asks politely, Jason just glares at them man.

“You know I always love to see you, but I would like to speak with Daniel for a moment.”

“Unfortunately, Danny and I have places to be, Vlad. I’m sure my parents would love to speak with you though. Dad has been meaning to stop by.” Jazz gathers the trash and remnants of their meal and stands, going to throw them away. Jason gets up to follow her, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He feels a tickle in his throat and his next breath comes out cold and foggy, visible in the air. 

“Daniel, don’t you want to have a talk?” The hand on his shoulder is forceful.

“Don’t touch me.” Jason turns himself out of his grasp, backing away towards the door. Jazz pulls him quickly back onto the street towards home.

“Who the hell was that guy?”

“Danny’s godfather, friend of our parents. They went to college together.”

They’re walking past an alley when Jason feels that tickle again, he stops as his breath comes out cold, then something rams into him, pushing him to the ground farther in the alley.

[lunamugetsu]

House Husband Danny

(Remember this post I made: Danny is a househusband. Well I decided to make it into a story) Crossposted from AO3. Here's a link

Location: Unknown, Date: Unknown

Three figures emerged from a glowing pit of green water, gasping for air as they dragged themselves out.

A man with dark skin was breathing heavily and went to shake the pale man with dark hair that was still unconscious. He paused as another hand was raised motioning for him to stop. He looked over at the women with long black hair.

“He’s tired, let him rest.” She said

“What are we going to do?” the woman merely smiled as she turned to fix the damp hair that was covering the unconscious man’s face.

“Simple… Danny will rest and heal…and we will live like the rulers we are.” She turned to look at her other partner.

“Yes… we will,” he confirmed as they both smiled while looking at their love.

Present Day

Danny hummed as he put away the newly washed dishes from dinner.

Ah, how nice it was to be in a home where the food didn’t come alive and try to declare war on him.

One less thing to worry about.

Now that dinner was eaten and leftovers were put away. He could focus on the package that came in the mail, he had been waiting for it for weeks.

Tucker and Sam had called ahead to say that they were working late.

What a shame.

Danny sat down in the living room and turned on the tv while cracking open the package.

“This is Lois Lane reporting for the Daily Planet! Breaking news as the Justice League members Superman and Wonder Woman are fighting off villains in Metropolis! They have been identified as the new villains: Upload and Nightshade. They made their first appearance known to the world a couple months ago- JIMMY LOOK OUT!”

The camera shook for a moment before stabilizing showing Superman was holding onto Lois Lane and Wonder Woman was holding onto the cameraman.

“It’s not safe here, please evacuate to a safer area.” Superman said before speeding off with Wonder Woman following close behind.

“Jimmy get a shot! That’s Nightshade!” the reporter said pointing to a large plant-like monster made of vines and thorns that was the size of a skyscraper. The cameraman zoomed in on the figure that was currently sitting on the monster’s shoulder. A woman with long black hair that appeared as if it was almost floating in an ethereal manner. She was a pale woman wearing a black skintight bodysuit with matching thigh high boots, black bandages were wrapped around her forearms while her hands lit up with a neon green energy along with her eyes. Nightshade smiled, turning to look straight into the direction of the camera before saying some words that the camera couldn’t pick up before humongous vines started filling up the camera’s screen, the sound of screaming could be heard before the feed was cut.

“That doesn’t look good,” Danny commented before turning back to the open package.

Ooh, that fabric did feel as soft as it was advertised! He better try it on to see it fit. He knew he checked the measurements before placing the order but still, mistakes always happened. He was also still a little hungry, perhaps some fruit from the fridge would be good.

It was a couple of minutes before the for the news to come back on. Danny sat down on the couch, sporting a plate of fruit with a side of whipped cream to dip it in. He plopped one into his mouth as the tv started airing the news again.

The camera lens managed to stay undamaged as the camera man and the reporter were taking cover behind the corner of a building focusing on the figure that was currently standing in front of a fallen Superman that was grimacing as the green light from the glowing rock in the figure’s gloved hand seemed to intensify. It also didn’t help that there appeared to be a set of special cuffs that were encasing the superheroes hands, forcing them together.

“And here I was thinking that defeating you couldn’t be that easy… well then again. Can’t expect a superhero to just not react to their greatest weakness. Kryptonite wasn’t really hard to track down who had a stash of these, it was even easier to take it. ” The figure was a man with dark skin with long dreadlocks and was wearing a visor that covered hi eyes from view. He wore a long coat with short sleeves letting people see the robotic gloves that went up all the way up his arms. The camera picked up a hum emanating from the robotic arms and crack of electricity.

“Why? Why are you doing this, Upload?” Superman said as he made to force himself to stand despite his bound hands.

“Hmm, wealth, fame, power, pettiness, destroying all the buildings I want without needing to pay for it, or maybe I just don’t like people who call themselves heroes,” Upload said as he moved to the side as Wonder Woman was thrown into a building.

“Truly, I thought they’d give more of a challenge,” Nightshade commented as the plant-monster then slammed a hand down onto Wonder Woman encasing the superhero in vines  making it practically impossible for the woman to rip out of.

Danny hummed as he looked at the news.

He should probably help… he stuck a strawberry into his mouth.

“How do you think we should do this, Nightshade? Slowly and methodical, or fast and exciting?” Upload turned to look at Nightshade.

“Obviously, something with mo-“

RING! RING! RING!

The two supervillains looked towards each other. Upload taking out a phone from his pocket while Nightshade motioned for the plant monster to give her, her bag so she could take out her phone.

“Hello/Hello.” Thy said answering their phone in unison.

“You’re hungry?” Nightshade asked.

“We did say we were working late, you’re welcome to eat out if you want- huh? I mean, what are you wearing?” Upload said

The two paused and looked at each other.

“The thing you ordered a couple weeks ago?” Upload said, “the red one?”

“That’s made with silk?” Nightshade hands were clenching down onto her phone.

“And you’re eating,” Upload looked over at Nightshade.

“Strawberries and whipped cream,” She said.

Ding! Ding!

The two turned to their phone at having received a message. The villains looked at their phone  and then to each other.

“We’ll be there in ten!” they said in unison before putting away their phones.

It happened quickly.

With a wave her hand, all of the plants started retreating back away from the superheroes while saying some words that the camera couldn ’t pick up and a portal opened right next to her.

Meanwhile Upload placed the kryptonite into a contain while hitting some buttons that were on his gloves and the cuffs that were on Superman unlocked and fell off the man ’s wrists.

Nightshade motioned for the now human-sized plant monster to walk through the portal while Upload was walking up to her.

“Wait! Where do you think you’re goin-” Wonder Woman and Superman held their ears as a loud sound echoed out a tool that Upload threw on the ground.

“Oh no! How dare you heroes foil our evil plan!” Nightshade said in a dead tone before grabbing Upload by his collar, “c’mon we gotta go!”

The two ran into the portal, disappearing out of sight, leaving nothing but the aftermath of the destruction of the fight they had with the two heroes.

“I’m sorry, what the heck just happened?!” Lois Lane said, turning to look at the camera.

Danny hummed as he turned off the tv and took his plate of food with him as he got off the couch.

He needed to get upstairs, after all, Sam and Tucker weren’t going to be working late after all.

The man sat himself into the master bedroom, it had a bed that was an Alaskan King size. Largest size of bed they could find, could easily fit a whole family of four on it. He didn’t even know beds came in that size.

Danny continued humming as he settled himself down in the middle of the bed. The sheets were made of Egyptian cotton. Ethically sourced, of course. Sam wouldn’t stand sleeping on something that was made by a company that destroyed the environment while simultaneously overworking and underpaying their employees. Tucker had come to the rescue, buying a set of sheets on his last trip from Egypt. They had to custom order it especially since their bed didn’t fit the common dimensions that mass production usually went by.

But he wasn’t complaining, the bed was really… nice.

He laid back against the pillows, wearing nothing but the little red number that came in the mail that day.

He dipped a strawberry into the whipped cream and took a bite out of it. Giving a hum as he enjoyed the taste. It was so nice not to have to worry about anything. No ghosts trying to kill him, no government agency trying to track him down to vivisect and kill him, no parents trying to shoot, vivisect, and kill him- Danny wondered if that was a normal amount of people to have to want to kill him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter anymore.

He smiled as he heard the sound of the front door being slammed open and shut followed by a furious pattering sound of feet going up the stairs. He hoped they’d taken their shoes off when they got in. He just vacuumed the house that afternoon.

The door to the bedroom opened with a bang as he saw Sam and Tucker, wearing their civilian clothing that they had clearly just thrown on with no thought of whether or not they should straighten out any of the clothes or at least to check if they put on their shirt inside out. It was a rule though, never bring work home, it always brought trouble. They had enough trouble dealing with ghosts to last a lifetime, let alone the afterlife.

“I’m hungry,” Danny said while taking  a bite of a strawberry and licking off cream that caught on his lip. He could see them already looking at his mouth and trailing their eyes across the new article of clothing he was wearing.. The man curled his finger to motion for them to come closer.

“Come and feed me.” He smiled as his partners joined him in bed.

Ah, it was so nice when his partners didn’t work late nights.

[wileys-russo]

alanna kennedy, “I always preferred macca anyway”, tillies night out at a bar

competitive streak II a.kennedy

"everyone is going to give us shit for being late!" your girlfriend groaned in annoyance, checking her watch for the tenth time as the uber zoomed through the streets of manchester.

"lani are we talking about the same girls? the girls who are late for movie nights when we're all in the same hotel?" you laughed in amusement, squeezing her leg reassuringly.

"we wouldn't be late if you hadn't taken a hundred hours to try on every single piece of clothing you own." alanna grunted with a huff, thumbs flying against her phone screen.

when she felt your eyes burn into her head she looked up and met your unimpressed glare. "i mean but you look just so gorgeous that its worth it babe. so so gorgeous!" alanna attempted to fix things, smiling charmingly as you only hummed.

"mm thats what i thought you said." you warned as she grinned and kissed your cheek a few times, the uber nearing the restaurant you were meeting a handful of your national teammates at.

by some scheduling miracle a large group of them were all down in manchester with games this weekend allowing for the impromptu meet up. "el is jealous." you chuckled showing your girlfriend the annoyed selfie from your best friend who was living and playing in france.

"film this." alanna tapped your knee as you chuckled but clicked record. "serves you right for living in france carpenter, fuck you and i hope the fomo eats you up!" alanna flipped off the camera as you laughed and ended it, sending the snapchat to the blonde and tucking your phone back in your bag as you arrived.

"thanks mate." your girlfriend smiled appreciatively, sliding out of the car first before holding the door open and a hand out to help you up which you took.

"i've changed my mind, looking drop dead gorgeous or not if they give us shit for being late i will be throwing you under the bus."

~

"alright, pair up and lets get a tourney going!" sam clapped her hands together eagerly as you all hovered by one of the pool tables in the sports bar you'd all moved onto after dinner, losing a few of the girls to their beds along the way there was only six of you still standing.

"not a chance babe!" your girlfriend laughed grabbing caitlins arm as you tried to pair up with her and made a face of shock. "lani!" you huffed in offence as the blonde shook her head firmly.

"i'd just like to win baby, nothing personal." the taller girl winked as you sent her a scowl and someone else drew you into their side. "such a shame you won't be winning then. i'll be taking your girl and the trophy!" mackenzie grinned with her arm slung over your shoulder.

"with her hand eye coordination skills? you can have her." alanna dismissed with a shrug as your mouth formed a small o of shock and even caitlin winced at her best friends words. "you've never even seen me play kennedy." you reminded with a roll of your eyes.

"nah but i do live with you babe, and theres a reason i'm on an undefeated streak at game night. so get ready to lose!" the blonde smirked cockily as you scoffed again.

"hope you're hungry lanz, cause you'll be eating your words soon!" macca swooped in with a grin, guiding you away as you sent your girlfriend a mean glare over your shoulder.

"hope your couch is comfortable tonight lani." cait sighed and patted the taller girls back who rolled her eyes and pushed her away, sam and steph teaming up to play against the two of them for the first game.

you watched on with a silently smug smile at the range of shocked expressions which rocked your girlfriends features as you proved your worth, mackenzie grinning with delight as the pair of you won game after game.

"no way! you bumped the fucking table." alanna scowled as you sunk two balls in one shot, blowing on the top of your cue like a smoking gun before lining up and sinking another ball.

"just call it now! you and cait haven't won a single game lani." sam laughed, she and steph having beat them but no one was yet to beat you and mackenzie.

"nah fuck this, they're cheating somehow!" the blonde huffed dropping her stick onto the table as you sunk a further two balls, winning the game, and storming off to the bar.

"good news! you don't need to get me a birthday present this year, because the look on her face just then...priceless." mackenzie kissed the tips of her fingers as you laughed and pushed her lightly.

"better go do some damage control, hey cait take my place. you might even win a game!" you teased as your friend smacked you lightly and took the cue in your hands, sam setting up the balls for a new game.

it took a few minutes but you eventually located the defender who was leaning against the balcony of the empty smokers area, scowling out into the chilly night air making you smile.

"so is this where the losers hang out then?" you teased appearing beside her as she rolled her eyes and refused to look at you, crossing her arms a little tighter with a huff.

"you know if you'd have just paired up with me like i wanted, you'd have avoided all this horrid horrid humiliation." you knocked your shoulder into her, looking up at her with an amused smile as she groaned.

"don't remind me, should have known cait would be fucking useless." your girlfriend grumbled, flicking you a frown and huffing again before her eyes returned to the skyline. "i'm sure she's thinking the same babe, you sunk what maybe...two balls? and they weren't even for your team." you laughed as alanna groaned again.

"go gloat somewhere else, cockiness doesn't suit you."

"well are you going to be this pouty and moody all night? because i think i deserve a reward for playing so well." your tone shifted as the defenders eyes snapped toward you, seeing the familiar smile tugging at your lips.

"you just want to ditch them?" she questioned a little in surprise as your own eyebrow raised at the unexpected reaction of her not jumping at the opportunity like she normally would.

"no its fine, we can just go back inside and play a few more rounds. i mean i always preferred macca anyway." you smirked as you started to back up toward the door and her face hardened.

you grinned in victory as she surged toward you, taking your hand and practically dragging you toward the exit, calling out a goodbye over her shoulder and ignoring the shouts of protest from your friends in the distance.

"alanna!" you laughed as the blonde called an uber and promptly shoved you against the wall outside the bar, looming over you with a wolfish grin, leaning down so her lips ghosted you and ignoring the ping of her phone that the uber had arrived.

"think i've got a better idea of what i'd like a few rounds of tonight babe."

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Got My Doll Back » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Summary: Bucky gets his wife back after thinking that she was dead for years.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of past memories & trauma, fighting, crying, kissing, pet names (doll)

A/N: Y/N has the same powers as Wanda.

A/N #2: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping find the first aesthetic picture🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“These 4 people are your mission. Get these 3 out of the way.” Pierce shows you pictures of Captain America, the Falcon, and Black Widow. “And bring the Winter Soldier back to us alive. Understand?” He says, showing you a picture of the Winter Soldier.

“I understand, sir.” You reply.

Alarms at the base you’re at went off, along with a flashing red light in the room. Pierce went to the security system to see four people walking through the hallways of the base separately. Pierce chuckles and smirks before turning to face you.

“This mission may be easier than we thought. Go to the south end of the base and bring the Winter Soldier to the room.” He tells you.

You nodded and headed towards the door. An agent opened it for you. You headed to the south side of the base. Your walk was cut short when you heard a woman’s voice. You turned around to see a woman with red hair and wearing a black mission suit, one of your targets. She rose one of her arms, getting ready to shoot one of her widow bites at you. Your powers glowed red in your right hand, along with your eyes glowing red. She began to walk towards you, but you used your powers to throw her against the wall, making her groan in pain when she landed on the floor. You ran away from her before she could get up and get you.

“Rogers, Barnes, Wilson. There’s a woman wearing all black with a red jacket is going to the south side of the base. She’s enhanced.” Natasha says into her ear piece.

“I’m on it!” Sam replies, running to the south side.

You rounded the corner to see your second target causing you to stop in your tracks, seeing a man standing across from you.

“I’m not about to fight a woman so let’s do this the easy way.” Sam says.

“That’s a shame.” You say, slightly tilting your head.

Your eyes turned red, along with a ball of red appearing in your hand. You threw it at him causing him to fall to the floor. You ran past him to find your other two targets.

“She’s going east now!” Sam says into his ear piece.

“I see her!” Bucky replies.

Bucky shoots at you. You quickly ducked to the floor to avoid the bullet. You chuckled and stood up with your back facing him.

“Got outsmarted by a woman, didn’t you, Soldat?” You say.

Bucky froze and his eyes went wide. The voice sounds all too familiar. It sounds like someone he knows. Someone from his past.

Steve rounded the corner and caught up to Bucky. He waved his hand in front of his face to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Bucky!” Steve shook him. “Did she do something to you?” He asks.

“N-No.” Bucky stutters.

Steve looks at you to see you facing away from him and Bucky.

“Turn around.” Steve orders.

Steve got his shield ready as you chuckled and turned around.

“You know, the last man who ordered me around, got thrown off of a building. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen to you, Captain.” You say, slowly turning around.

You looked up to see the two men with surprised looks on their faces. Bucky put his gun in the hostler and Steve lowered his shield.

“Oh my god.” Steve says, completely speechless.

“Y/N?” Bucky says with hopefulness in his voice.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head to the side.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You say.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His wife from the 40s was standing a few feet away from him. He slowly approached you which was a mistake on his part cause the next thing he knew was being thrown into the wall. Steve threw his shield at you, but you stopped it with your powers. It fell to the floor in front of you.

“Listen here, Captain and Soldat, but I’m not who you guys think I am.” You say.

Bucky stood up from the ground in time to see your eyes glowing red and a red light glow in your hands, making his eyes to widen.

“I was given a mission and I need to finish it. I’m sure you can relate to that, Soldat.” You say.

Before you could use your powers on them, you felt shocks to the back of your neck causing your body to tense up and lose consciousness. Bucky was quick to catch you before you hit the floor.

“While you two were busy dilly dallying with her, me and Sam got the file.” Natasha says, holding up the file.

Bucky moved your hair from your face to get a closer look at your face causing his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to tear up.

“What did they do to you, doll?” Bucky asks, talking more to himself.

Sam and Natasha furrowed their eyebrows in confusion as they looked down at Bucky.

“Doll? Barnes, do you know this woman?” Natasha asks.

“He’ll explain later. We need to get out of here.” Steve says.

Bucky stood up with you in his arms and carried you to the quinjet, holding you like his life depends on it.

A couple hours later, you woke up in a room that you didn’t recognize. You looked around the room, gathering your surroundings. Your eyes landed on a man sleeping in a chair next to the bed you’re in.

“Hello?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky woke up immediately. A smile grew on his face when he seen that you’re awake.

“Thank god you’re awake.” Bucky says relieved.

He reaches to grab your hand, but you backed away from him. You felt yourself beginning to panic.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says in a reassuring voice.

You took a moment to yourself to think. You felt yourself starting to become overwhelmed, your breathing became uneven.

“Wh-Where am I?” You asked, looking around the room again.

“My apartment.” He tells you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. That’s when memories flooded your brain. Visions of a man appeared in your mind. The man looks exactly like the man sitting next to you. You opened your eyes and looked at the man. There was a few different features about this man compared to the man in your vision. He has long hair, stubble, and a metal arm.

“I know you from somewhere, but I don’t know where.” You say.

“Take your time. It’ll come to you.” He says softly.

You took your time and thought. You kept thinking until your head started pounding by more memories flowing back into your mind. You put your hands on the sides of your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You jumped slightly when you felt a hand on your back, but you didn’t move away. When your head stopped pounding, you opened your eyes and looked up at the man with tears in your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the man next to you is your husband.

“Bucky?” You say in almost a whisper.

“It’s me, doll. It’s your Bucky.” He says with a smile.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you hugs him. Bucky pulled you onto his lap, holding you close to him. His eyes teared up. Bucky never thought he would get the chance to see or hold his wife again.

“I missed you so much.” You cried against his chest.

“I missed you too, doll.” Bucky says, tears rolled down his cheeks.

You sniffled and looked up at your husband, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was told to—” Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

“You didn’t hurt me.” Bucky says, looking into your eyes.

“I-I blasted you with my powers.” You say.

“It wasn’t you, doll.” He says, cupping your cheeks.

You shivered when you felt cool metal against your skin.

“What happened to your left arm?” You asked with concern in your voice while looking at his metal arm.

Bucky didn’t want to upset with the details of how he really lost his left arm so he came up with a different way to tell you what happened.

“I got hurt years ago and when I woke up, I had this.” He explains, showing you his metal arm.

Bucky watched as you carefully touched it, watching as your fingers traced the plates of it.

“I’m sorry for hurting your friends with my powers.” You say, feeling ashamed for your actions.

“They’ll understand that it wasn’t you, doll.” Bucky says.

“I didn’t hurt Steve, did I?” You asked.

“No you didn’t.” He says.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that you didn’t hurt your best friend.

“Is it ok if I see Steve and meet your friends?” You asked.

“Of course.” He smiles.

You got off the bed and followed closely behind Bucky while holding his hand as he led you to the living room where Steve, Sam, and Natasha are.

“Someone would like to see you guys.” Bucky says to them.

You slowly stepped out from behind Bucky and looked at everyone.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks, trying his best not to overstep.

“How could I forget my best friend?” You say.

Steve smiles as you approached him to give him a hug. You looked at the two people standing next to him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you guys.” You tell them.

“It’s ok. We understand.” Sam says.

“Don’t worry about it.” Natasha says.

All of you talked for a while until you got tired and wanted to go to bed.

“I’m happy that I got my doll back.” Bucky says, making you smile.

You smiled and laid your head on his chest and played with his dog tags.

“I love you, Bucky.” You say sleepily.

“I love you too, doll.” He almost whispers. “Get some rest.” He says.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I will. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” He says, leaning down and kissed you passionately.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 6 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: In the aftermath of the kiss, Bob and Anna try to process their feelings. Bob works on more of his poetry while Anna hides from her friends, but neither of them can get past their attraction. When another man arrives during a night out, all Bob feels is jealousy.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Taking Anna to Chippy's was a mistake, because Bob was falling harder by the minute. She was cute and smart. Witty and reserved. And the fact that she was a little tipsy after one drink just made her more endearing. Jessica could drink more Sam Adams than anyone he'd ever seen before, and Bradshaw's wife could probably play beer pong professionally, but not Anna. She was giggling and demanding he not download a dating app. She was smiling nonstop and touching him. And he wasn't even allowed to have a chance with her.

She only lived a mile or so from campus, which was a shame, because Bob would have liked to spend more time with her. He played with the radio dials in his old truck as he drove, trying to keep his hands busy. And that's when he swore he heard Anna whisper a line from his poem.

"What did you just say?" he asked, eyeing her closely.

"Nothing," she told him as the car behind his truck honked, and Bob tapped the accelerator when he realized the light was green. He must have been mistaken. There was no way anyone actually read the stuff he posted online, let alone Anna. He just did it for a way to help him release his emotions and thoughts.

But he wanted to make sure. When he parked at the curb in front of her building, he turned toward her with curious eyes and whispered, "I thought you said-"

He was instantly distracted by the way she kept her eyes on his as her chest rose and fell a little faster. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted closer to him along the seat, and he froze as she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips found his like it was the most natural thing in the world. When she made a soft sound, he raised his hand up to touch her cheek, something he'd been dying to do for weeks and weeks. Her skin felt silky soft as she nibbled gently on his lip, and then he remembered everything that she'd said to him. He couldn't start down this path just to have her put up another roadblock. 

He forced himself away from her. "Anna. I don't think this is something friends do," he croaked, praying that by some twist of face, she'd end up in his arms. 

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hauling herself back across the seat and throwing the door open. "I'm so sorry, Bob." He watched her climb down and grab her tote bag, barely glancing back at him as she slammed the door and ran inside the building. 

He was going to offer to walk her to her door. He wanted to make sure she got inside safely. He wanted to do a lot of things that would hopefully come across in a friendly way. This was decidedly not how he imagined his night would end, staring at the spot where she disappeared inside and wondering if she regretted kissing him. She really ran away from him at top speed without any clarification.

"Damn it, Bob," he whispered as he put his truck in gear. But he didn't know what he could have done differently. He just wished he didn't know how fucking good it felt to have Anna's lips on his, because it would probably never happen again. He wanted to ask her why she kissed him in the first place. Then an even more devastating thought occurred to him. What if she didn't want to be his friend after this?

He really needed Nat to come home from her deployment, because he knew he couldn't mention this to Jessica at D&D. What would he even tell her? That Anna kissed him exactly once and then ran away faster than an olympic sprinter?

Then he parked in front of his house and saw the text that made him shove his phone into his pocket and not look at it again until morning. 

Anna Webber: I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

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

Anna was curled up in her sad bed trying not to cry. Bob would probably never want to talk to her again now. What kind of person told a man they just wanted to be friends and then kissed him like the words meant nothing? Anna, apparently. But it felt so nice. No. Better than that. Kissing Bob felt necessary.

Before she could change her mind, she texted him and then turned off her phone. I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

She rolled onto her back and started to cry. Not for the first time, she thought about calling Kevin and screaming at him for ruining everything. She should feel a sense of freedom by now after finally leaving him in New Jersey with Alyssa, but she just didn't. It wasn't fair that Anna had no control over what Kevin did when he still seemed to dictate what she was allowed to do. But she knew she had to be a better person than him.

When she reached down to the floor, her fingers found the stack of books she was currently reading for work and for entertainment. She picked up the Vonnegut from Bob, because it wasn't even really that late, and she was in a mood now anyway. Then she took the time to find the note from him. Her new bookmark. She read through her tears until they stopped. She didn't dog ear a single page. She used his note to save her spot, and then she fell asleep with the book pressed to her chest. 

She felt awful on Friday at work. When she gave her first lecture, it felt forced instead of insightful, and her notes seemed to blur on the pages in front of her. She didn't have an appetite, which was fine since she had no money for food and forgot to pack a lunch. Instead of going to the weird tree and the nicest women she'd ever met, she sat in her office and cried with her head resting on her folded arms. 

Bob didn't text her back, but she figured he wouldn't. There was really nothing else to say. She already decided she wasn't going to mention the kiss to Advanced Calculus or Advanced Physics, but perhaps she should tell them it would be a good thing after all if Bob went on a dating app. He deserved to be happy. Someone else would make him happy. 

As Anna was packing up everything she would need for the weekend, there was a knock on her office door. It was late, and her stomach was growling loudly, but she called out, "Come in!"

The room was so small, Bradley Bradshaw and his wife barely fit on the opposite side of her desk when standing side by side, and Anna watched him shuffle around so he was standing partially behind her. "What's up, Anna?" he rasped with a grin, and she had no difficulty imagining him ten years younger in a loud fraternity house. 

"Hi," she replied, clasping her hands together. "What are you both doing here? I was just about to catch the bus and go home."

"You never came to lunch today!" her friend complained. "And you didn't text me back. I was starting to get nervous that the creeper from the sociology department got to you or something."

"No," Anna replied with a soft laugh. "I'm fine."

Two pairs of eyes bored into her, and then Bradley and his wife both blurted out, "How was Chippy's?"

"Did Bob make a move?" Bradley asked, his hands caressing his wife through her tweed blazer. 

Anna swallowed a huge lump of guilt. "We're just friends," she managed to say.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with an eye roll. "Sure. But did he? Because I've been being a dick all week about getting him on a dating app even though I know he's not into the idea. Jake and I thought it might help."

"Are you serious right now?" his wife gasped, smacking at his hands while Anna rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I told you not to interfere," she hissed.

"We're just friends," Anna repeated a little louder over the two of them arguing. "Chippy's was great. Amazing peanuts. Sticky floors. Grouchy bartender. It was like being back in undergrad."

Just as Bradley was raising his hand, about to speak again, he took an elbow to the side that seemed to make him think better of it as his wife asked, "Then you won't mind going back on Wednesday? To surprise Jessica for her birthday?"

"It's her birthday?" Anna asked, excited by the idea of being invited to a celebration even though Bob would definitely be there as well.

"Yes. I texted you about it when you skipped out on us at lunchtime."

"Right," she replied, knowing she'd only been checking her phone occasionally on purpose. "I'll be there on Wednesday. Of course I will." She was going to have to suck up her embarrassment over everyone trying to push her and Bob together, but at least they didn't know about the kiss she ran away from. "Anything for Jess."

"And are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight?" her friend asked as her husband's hands crept back into place on her body. 

"I have a lot of work to do. Midterms are just around the corner," she replied lamely. "So, probably not."

With a sigh, her friend nodded once and said, "Please don't skip lunch next week. We missed you."

Bradley said, "I'll make extra hummus," before his wife started pushing him to the door.

The confirmation that the hummus was in fact homemade left Anna feeling slightly jealous. That feeling only grew as she watched her friend take Bradley's chin in her hand and softly say, "Oh, Beer Boy. I don't even want to know what kind of a monstrosity of a dating profile you'd make for Bob."

He smiled and waved at Anna before he looked at his wife and said, "I just want all of my friends to be as happy as I am."

She grabbed him by his khaki belt and said, "Let's stop by the library."

Anna desperately wanted to be that happy, too.

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

"What's your problem, man?" Mickey asked as he drove Bob home from Dungeons & Dragons. "You were weird all night."

"Just tired," Bob replied, and he was being at least partially honest. He'd been staying up later than usual, working on some poetry and reading the books Anna recommended. He enjoyed all of them; she seemed to know exactly how to reach his innermost hidden thoughts and ideas. She somehow understood him, and that was more exciting than he wanted it to be right now. But when he and Anna had to be together in person again, he knew it was going to be a different story. He was almost relieved she didn't show up at the Hard Deck earlier, because he had no idea how to act around her now. 

She knew he had feelings for her, and that kiss had roughed him up a bit. Even a couple days afterwards, he thought he could still feel the pressure of her lips on his and smell her shampoo. 

"Are you still hung up on Anna?"

Mickey's words made Bob laugh. "More than ever before."

"You know what I think you should do?" his friend asked as he zipped along in his sports car.

Bob cradled his forehead and said, "I'd love to hear it," even though he was pretty sure it would annoy him.

"You should tell her that you don't want to be just friends. And then kiss her."

Bob turned and looked at Mickey as the passing street lights illuminated him and then left him in darkness over and over again. "I'm not going to do that. All I can do is hope she changes her mind." He didn't mention the fact that they had already kissed; he was sure she was too embarrassed by it to want it to become public knowledge. 

As Mickey pulled up to Bob's house, he said, "Well whatever you're doing right now, it's not working."

Bob sighed and said, "Thanks. That's really helpful. See you on Monday. Oh, and don't forget about the surprise party thing on Wednesday."

"Yeah, I won't forget. Hard Deck at seven o'clock."

"Chippy's!" Bob called out as he pulled away. Sometimes he felt like the most organized one out of all of his friends, and it was honestly amazing that Mickey even managed to get to work on time. At least Suzanne's lights were off as Bob walked up to his porch and let himself inside. He didn't have the energy to deal with anyone else tonight. 

He stripped down to his underwear and got ready for bed, but he took his computer with him. He was ridiculous for doing it, but he looked at the notes he'd typed up last night and started writing. It was never as beautiful or eloquent as the things he read from others, but posting his poetry online felt like he was at least taking ownership of something he created. This poem, however, he didn't know if he'd be able to post it at all. He found himself writing about red hair when he realized it would warrant a mature rating label if he ever did decide to post it. Then he started to think about all the things he wanted to do with Anna and her red hair. 

Bob grunted and set his computer aside. She was giving him mixed signals, and he wasn't sure she'd ever change her mind about being with him, but that didn't stop his body from responding as he imagined her beautiful hair spread out on his pillow. He'd take fistfuls of it and press his nose to it. He'd tug gently on it and tell her that she was beautiful. He would press kisses to the coppery strands and then guide her lower on his body as he grasped a little harder.

"Shit," Bob panted, kicking off his covers and pulling himself free from his gray boxer briefs. He jerked off to the idea of Anna and him together. She'd kiss his hips and thighs and laugh softly before licking along his length. His name would sound like the most beautiful poetry on her lips. Her freckles would stand out in the soft lamplight. He'd guide her along with his fingers wrapped around her hair as she teased him.

He stroked himself with his eyes closed, panting softly and whispering some of his own poetry, and he wasn't even surprised when he came all over his flat abs. When he adjusted his glasses with his clean hand, he thought he'd much prefer to see Anna in his bed with him.

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

Anna was starved for conversation with another human being by the time Monday morning arrived. Forcing herself to be a recluse as a means to distract herself from her plethora of issues was clearly not the answer. Not when she'd actually managed to make some friends in San Diego. She arrived on campus early and stopped in the lounge for a donut only to find nobody else from her department was really around. Then when she gave her first lecture, half of her students looked like they were still asleep. She tucked her new bookmark of sorts into Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and counted down the hours until she could meet her friends for lunch.

Jessica seemed none the wiser about her upcoming surprise party, but that was the whole point of the thing. Anna started bracing herself to spend some more time around Bob, hoping her kiss was so forgettable that he'd already moved on. Honestly, that was a pretty good possibility. She hadn't really considered that before, but it made a lot of sense. She was boring. After another day or two, he'd have probably forgotten all about it.

This helped Anna push herself through the week. On Wednesday, she took the bus home to change, and she knew she'd never make it to Chippy's on time in her sundress and denim jacket unless she took an Uber to the bar. So she gritted her teeth and paid for the ride, wishing for so many reasons that she hadn't kissed Bob so that she could have asked him to pick her up. But when she got to Chippy's, Bob wasn't even there. And Anna was met with a different issue in the form of a very attractive man with dark hair and dark eyes.

She felt his gaze on her as soon as she arrived, surprised he was looking at her of all people. But in her rush to get to Chippy's on time, all she really got to do was say hi to Jake and Bradley before they got her into position for the surprise. It looked like the bar had been reserved just for Jessica tonight, and that made Anna inexplicably happy and sad at the same time. Even that old bartender looked excited to celebrate. Even Dr. Rosenthal showed up. 

Then Bob rushed in wearing jeans, a snug fitting tee shirt and a worried expression. His hair looked damp, and he was straightening out his glasses as he glanced around and asked, "Did I make it in time?" Anna felt like someone knocked the wind out of her as he got closer.

"Barely," Bradley replied, checking his watch. "Sugar and Jess should be here any minute. Where the fuck were you?"

Bob's cheeks turned a little pink as he muttered, "I had to help Suzanne with her car. She had a flat tire. And then she insisted I come inside for a few minutes so she could thank me properly. I lost track of time."

Anna crossed her arms and pressed her lips together as Bob came to stand right next to her. When he softly said hello, she just nodded and tried to give him a smile, but she was too overwhelmed with too many different feelings. He smelled like soap, and she knew his body was warm without him even touching her. She didn't know who Suzanne was, but she was automatically a little jealous, which was ridiculous. But now she felt like that kiss last week was as forgettable as she both hoped and feared. 

Anna wanted to cry, but even her tears had to take a backseat at the moment as the door to Chippy's opened up and both of her friends walked inside. "Happy birthday!" everyone shouted, and Anna tried her best to look enthusiastic for the occasion. 

"No!" Jessica called out, shoving at the other woman's arm as she realized it was her birthday party. "You're sneaky! You lied to me about getting just one birthday beer!" Then she rushed forward in her adorable suit and high heels, heading straight for Jake's arms. But the second person she reached out to hug was Anna.

"Happy birthday, Advanced Physics," she said with a stifled laugh.

"I'm so happy you're here," Jessica gushed, and Anna felt a lot better as she returned the hug.

But all too soon, she was left on her own. At least all of the tables were covered in dishes of peanuts. Jake was paying for Sam Adams for everyone, but Anna knew she shouldn't drink. Not again. Not after she got tipsy with Bob. 

She could still feel those dark eyes on her as she broke open a peanut and enjoyed the perfectly salty taste. Who was that guy? His arms were wrapped around Jessica's waist, and Jake looked like he was about to go through the roof as his girlfriend laughed. Then he made his way over to Bradshaw's wife and gave her the same treatment. But Bradley looked completely unfazed when she kissed the other man on the cheek and smiled. They whispered something back and forth, and he met Anna's eyes with a wink. She quickly looked away, hoping to avoid a conversation. Bob was sipping a beer and smashing open his own peanuts, and she knew if she couldn't be with him, she didn't want to be with anyone else either. 

Too late. "Hi, are you Anna?" came an unfamiliar voice followed by the spicy scent of too much cologne.

"I am," she answered, looking down at the extended hand of this handsome stranger. "Are you a friend of Jessica's?"

He laughed as their hands met. "Sure," he replied smoothly. "But it's really Bradshaw and I that go way back. I'm Dev. Dev Borah."

"Oh," she said, still shaking his hand and trying to make sense of things. Why was she so awkward? She finally released him and said, "It's... nice to meet you. Um, how do you know Bradley?"

"Virginia. Undergrad. I graduated with the two of them, actually. Nearly died of shock last year when I heard they were both out in San Diego and getting married. Can I get you a drink, Beautiful? Something other than Sam Adams?"

"Oh," Anna gasped as she looked up at him in surprise. "Um... I don't really drink much."

Dev moaned and gripped at his chest dramatically. "You're killing me. I own a brewery!"

Anna could barely tell one type of beer from another, but she wasn't about to tell him that. And quite honestly, talking about making beer sounded interesting enough; she loved learning about new things. But he just called her beautiful. She was flustered and too hot, and then she saw Bob standing off to the side with Mickey, and his expression was one of great displeasure. 

"A brewery?" she asked, trying to force her attention back to Dev.

"Beta Brewing," he said proudly. "We're currently working on a two million dollar expansion project. It's kind of a construction zone, but if you ever want to come up to sample the goods, I'd love to have you."

Anna's eyes went wide. That sounded like an innuendo, but Dev's face was calm as he sipped his pint. Anna figured he must be okay if he was friends with all of these people, but she was never going to go there without the girls. "Maybe if everyone else wanted to go, I could tag along?"

Dev laughed and said, "Bradshaw makes the drive frequently enough. I'm sure we'll see each other again. But just to be sure... I could give you my personal number."

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

Bob was seething. He'd met Dev Borah exactly one time before, and while he'd had pretty neutral feelings about him prior to tonight, now he hated the sight of him. He'd persuaded Anna to have a beer even though Bob heard her say she didn't really want one, and now he was typing something into Anna's phone. He was giving her his number, just like Bob had done so many weeks ago.

"Stop torturing yourself, man," Mickey said, handing Bob some more peanuts.

"You think she likes him?" Bob asked, voice tight as he grabbed the bowl in his shaky hand.

Mickey shrugged next to him. "What's not to like?"

Bob tossed the bowl onto one of the tables. "You're not helping." He walked away to find someone else, anyone else, to talk to. He should have kissed Anna for as long as he could when he had the chance, because it was all he could think about now. It was all he wanted. She kept looking at him; if she was going to talk to Dev all night and say that kissing Bob was a mistake, then why was she looking at him?

He needed to get out of here and go home, but he knew his friends would be disappointed. Even Suzanne would shake her head. Honestly, he'd be annoyed with himself, too. But his mood was something so unfamiliar, he was ready to force himself to talk to the woman standing next to Anna who he thought was from the science department just so he wouldn't feel like a joke. 

"You know," Bradley said as he slung his arm around Bob's shoulders, "I had no idea Dev liked redheads so much. But then again, he never was too discerning back in the day."

"What do you want, Rooster?" he asked with a grunt.

"I just wanted to make sure you're having fun at Jess's little shindig."

Bob let Bradley slap him obnoxiously on the back as he asked, "Did you invite Dev? Is he going to give Anna a hard time or anything?" His eyes trailed back over to where Dev was still talking her ear off.

Bradley chuckled. "I invited him to get Jake riled up, but I had no idea you'd be collateral damage." He finally released Bob as he said, "And nah, Dev's harmless."

What Bob wouldn't give to have Natasha back. He missed her terribly, and all the guys seemed to be better behaved when she was around. But she'd take one look at Anna and probably embarrass him in front of her even more.

"I think I'm actually going to head home," came Anna's voice filtering over to Bob as she finally cut Dev off. "It was nice to meet you."

"Let me drive you," he replied immediately, and Bob could already picture him getting Anna settled into his Mercedes-Benz, his fingers grazing her bare thigh.

"No, that's okay," she told Dev as she backed away from him. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Jessica, and then I'll get an Uber."

She made her escape to the table next to where Bob stood, and Jessica gave her a big hug. "Happy birthday," Anna told her once again, followed softly by, "I'm glad we're friends."

Jessica squealed and hugged her tighter. "Me too."

"I'm going to call an Uber and head out," Anna was saying, but Jessica was already looking around. 

"No way. It's dark out, and someone here can drive you home. Hey, Bob? Can you drive Anna home?"

He knew he was going to say yes even though part of him didn't want to. And there was another part of him that assumed she'd just say Dev offered to take her. But when Anna looked up at him, he nodded and immediately said, "Of course."

To his surprise, Anna looked a little relieved as she took a step closer. "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked him with a little wince.

"Not one bit. I was planning on heading home, and it's on the way."

Bob accepted a sloppy kiss on the cheek from Jessica who was well on her way to being drunk. Then he dug his keys from his pocket and nodded toward the door. Anna followed closely next to him, but unlike the last time they were at Chippy's, he didn't touch her. When Bob held the door open, he looked back over his shoulder at Dev who raised his pint glass with a smile of defeat, but he didn't really care about anyone except Anna.

"Thanks," she muttered, walking out into the cool, night air.

"Did you have a good time?" Bob asked, putting a little more space between them as he pointed up the block toward his truck.

Anna laughed, but the sound was tight and forced. "It was okay. I think Jessica was having fun, which is the most important thing, you know?"

"Yeah," he agreed, squeezing his key in his hand as all of the images of their kisses returned. Everything he thought about when he wrote new poetry and touched himself to completion. He swallowed hard; even being around Anna was a lot for his senses. He couldn't blame Dev for trying, but their interactions made him jealous. "Did you get Dev's number?"

Anna stumbled a bit on the sidewalk as she looked up at him, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "I didn't ask for it. He just kind of gave it to me," she said softly. "He invited me up to his brewery to try some beers. When I told him I'm not much of a beer drinker, he said he'd really enjoy teaching me about the process."

"I'm sure he would," Bob muttered, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

When he reached his truck, he wrenched the passenger door open for Anna, and she glowed softly in the dim, orange interior lighting. "He's a bit much," she said, looking up at him.

Bob nodded once, but she didn't make a move to climb in. "I don't know him very well, but I know he likes to hear himself talk." When she still didn't move, Bob asked, "Are you going to call him? Give him the opportunity?"

"I already told you..." she said firmly. "I can't be in a relationship right now, so I wouldn't want to encourage Dev. And I'm really, really sorry about last week, Bob." She fidgeted with her hands and added, "But if I were in a place where I wanted to start something, I wouldn't pick him."

"Really?" Bob asked as his heart pounded. The most depraved part of him wanted to hear her say she liked him more than Dev. More than anyone.

"Really," she whispered, placing her hand on the seat. "I like old trucks better than fancy sports cars."

That was enough confirmation for Bob. His skin was tingling with anticipation he knew he couldn't quench, but he didn't mind as much now as he did ten minutes ago. "Yeah... you could do way better than a multi millionaire anyway."

Anna's laughter in response was so genuine, Bob laughed, too. The drive to her place was quiet but not as strained as he was afraid it would be, and when he was about a block away, she took her phone out and started messing around with it. "Thanks, Bob," she said as he pulled up to the curb.

He cleared his throat. "You know how you told me you didn't think I should use the dating app? Because I didn't need it?"

"Yeah?" she asked, reaching for the door handle but looking at him. 

He squeezed the steering wheel tight in both hands and said, "Well, I don't think you need Dev's phone number." He watched her jump down and turn to glance his way, and then she smiled.

"I already deleted it. Thanks again for the ride. Maybe I'll see you this weekend?"

He nodded once before she closed the door. As she walked inside, he said, "I hope so."

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

Oh. Oh, okay. She prefers you, Bob! Now get ready for action. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls. And thanks @attapullman for all the underwear discussions.

PART 7

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[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 14

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Welcome back! Get ready for some more detective work, a pinch of Jo drama, another fire, and the reader finally meets John Winchester...

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fire hazards, threats, and hurt/comfort.

Part 14: “Message in a Bottle”

A week before Christmas, John Winchester left his house for work before the sun had even risen in the sky. It was still dim when he stepped out onto his porch, which is why he didn’t see it at first.

He heard the clink when his boot kicked at something metallic.

He glanced down and found a small badge lying on the ground. He bent to pick it up, and on further inspection, it was a fire department’s badge. A replica, probably, because it had Dean’s number on it: 20579.

The badge was also splattered with blood.

Later at his office, John handed it over to his partner for his inspection.

“It’s actually paint,” John said. “Forensics looked it over. No prints, of course.”

“That’s a shame,” Cas said. His tone was mild, but his face was as grave as John’s as he considered the crimson-stained badge. They stood together in the bullpen of the 84th Precinct.

“And I got this little present a few days ago,” John admitted quietly. He grabbed a folder off his desk and showed Cas its contents: a picture of Sam leaving the courthouse while talking on his cell, climbing into his car. Someone was watching his sons.

“I already have a police detail on him,” John said, heaving a sigh. “I requested approval for Dean’s this morning.”

Cas’s frown was deepening, along with his furrowed brows. “We may need to ask for backup on this.” 

John shook his head. “Rufus won’t give it to us.”

Their esteemed Lieutenant thought John was on a vendetta with a ghost, stirring up a conflict of his own making. He only approved a temporary police detail for Sam, with the condition that John stopped what he was doing, let the Fire Department handle the serial arsonist, and let this blow over.   

But Rufus should’ve known better than that by now. This was personal, and John wouldn’t tolerate these yellow-bellied threats to his family.

“Azazel’s applying pressure, hitting your weak spots,” Cas said, perhaps pointing out the obvious.

“So let’s hit him back, goddamn it,” John growled. He threw down the folder back onto his desk.

“How?” Cas asked. “We still don’t know who Azazel is.”

The other man thought hard, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and feeling the overgrown stubble. He didn’t remember the last time he’d shaved.

“How’s your progress on questioning Savage & Co.?” he asked.

“Stalled. Nick Savage has lawyered up,” said Cas.

His face slackened from frustration to realization. He didn’t seem happy about his next idea, but it looked like he had one.

“Though now that I think of it, we may be able to apply some pressure of our own,” he said.

John raised a brow and crossed his arms. “How’s that?”

“Dean’s girlfriend works there, if you remember,” Cas said. “Something happened this past weekend at her company Christmas party.”

John nodded, despite his frown. He was set to meet you in a week, but it looked like they might need to question you before then. What a pleasant first meeting that was going to be.

But if you had anything on Savage, on the company, or even better, if you were willing to wear a wire, that could be the break they needed to get some headway on this case. They could squeeze Savage for any information he might have on Azazel—like his real identity.

“Tell me,” John said.

You returned to work on Monday with steel in your veins (and a taser in your purse).

You had about an hour of peace in your office, catching up on your emails and calls. Then there was a knock on your door before it pushed open without your consent.

Damn it, should’ve locked it. Your lips pursed when Nick Savage came in.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said firmly. Already you were opening a drawer in your desk, reaching into your purse.

“It’s my goddamn office,” Nick replied lazily. But he crossed his arms and stopped just behind the spare chair that sat in front of your desk. It gave you a good few feet of distance.

You stared back at the man with hidden satisfaction through your disdain. It seemed Dean’s threats got to him.

“Just thought I’d let you know that Josh’s been promoted to Senior Sales Manager,” Nick said. He checked his watch absently.

Your teeth clicked in irritation, but you let it pass. He was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you no longer gave a fuck about this company anyway. What you told Dean before was the truth: you were now here just to collect a paycheck, until you could find a new job.

“Good. He’s been working hard, kissing your ass,” you said with a fake smile. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do.”

Nick made the mistake of taking a half-step forward. Your hand subtly clenched on the weapon in your purse, but you tried your best to seem relaxed. In control of yourself. This was your office that you’d occupied for three years.

This was your space, and this man didn’t control you.

“Take one step forward, and I will quit today,” you threatened. And then you bluffed.

“I’ll call Mr. Greenway,” you said. “In fact, he offered me a job last month. Then I’ll make a few more calls, and I’ll take all of my accounts with me. I’ll kill your fucking sales team and leave Josh to continue sucking your lackluster tequila dick.”

Nick stared back at you with thinly veiled shock. You’d always been “no nonsense,” but you’d never spoken to him like that before. He smirked.

This was why he liked you. And hated you.

“All right,” Nick said. He didn’t come any closer, but he did rest his hands on the back of the chair. “How about I buy out your friend Greenway. His whole damn company. And then I’ll blacklist you with every other company that calls for a reference. Even the ones that don’t call.”

Your eyes widened incredulously. He had the gall to wink at you, boiling your blood.

“I’ll fucking sue you,” you said, hating the slight tremor in your voice.

Nick rolled his eyes. “This again? Please.”

You couldn’t help it. Your temper snapped, and you pushed away from your desk to stand up. You gripped the edge of it to steady yourself. You quirked a humorless smile.

“As it happens, I know a damn good lawyer,” you countered. “He puts murderers in jail every day. I doubt he’d struggle too much with a corporate asshole. And I’ll remind you, Dean’s father is a police officer. I’m sure he’d like nothing better than to lock you up after I report you for what you did. And I will.”

Nick scoffed at that, his eyes narrowing.

“If you take it there, I’ll have every resource at my disposal to make your life a living hell. I’ll drag this out for years. Until you’ve got nothing but your boyfriend’s charity to keep you from living in a fucking box.”

You were seething, trying to stay in control. He knew it too, and he smirked at you. He pushed away from the chair and started to leave.

But then, he tossed you a smug look over his shoulder.

“Just remember,” he said. “You could’ve just spread those legs for me.”

It took everything you had within you not to hurl a stainless steel stapler at the back of his retreating head.

“A double please, Ellen. Dry, lots of olives,” you requested.

After a ridiculously long day at work, you were now trying to let go of your frustrations at the Roadhouse, while you still had the money to drink. You rubbed through the ache in your temples.

“Long day, hun?” Ellen asked you. Her eyes were sympathetic as she made you the martini you ordered. You gave her an attempt at a smile.

“Long life,” you muttered.

“Hmm. Asshole boss?” she surmised.

You met her gaze with a note of suspicion. “Did Dean tell you…”

You knew he’d told his brother about what happened at the Christmas party. And you had a feeling he’d told Cas as well, to try and see what you could do from a law enforcement standpoint. The first step was filing a report. Now you knew, however, that you couldn’t. Not if you wanted your life to remain in one piece.

“Nothing, hun,” Ellen shook her head. “You’ve just got that look. I reckon every woman in the world has worn that face. Usually because of a man.”

You sighed and chuckled at the same time. It loosened some of the tightness in your shoulders.

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

You were soon distracted though, giving your boyfriend a smile to try and cover up how exhausted you were, in every sense of the word. He greeted you with a warm hand along your lower back. He dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“Waiting long?” he asked.

“No, just a few minutes,” you shook your head. You laid a hand on his thigh when he took a seat next to you at the bar. “How was your shift?”

This week he was on three 12-hour shifts instead of his usual 24-hour shifts, which meant you got more of him in the evening. 

“Fine. Just a couple of accidents to clear off the road, nothing major,” he replied. He ordered a beer from Ellen and gave Jo a smile. He was surprised to see mother and daughter working civilly together under one roof, after the scene he saw last week.

“How’s the studying going?” he asked Jo, once Ellen was out of earshot to serve further down the line. He turned to you and filled you in. “Jo’s gearin’ up to hit the Police Academy.”

“Oh wow, that’s great!” you remarked.

Jo glanced over at her mom, but then she smiled, looking back at you and Dean. She focused on him.

“The test is in a few weeks,” she said. “I think I’m ready, but I don’t know…”

“You’ll be fine,” Dean said, with easy conviction. “You’re stubborn enough to know it’s what you want. So I got no doubts about you.”

Jo’s smile was warm, with a hint of shy and gratefulness. You smiled at Jo encouragingly, but inside, you had a familiar unease churning inside your gut.

Dean then turned to you with expectant brows. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, curling it behind your ear.

“And how was your day?” he asked. His tone was quieter, laced with double meaning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jo moving on to another waiting customer with a small sigh.

You met Dean’s gaze and you nodded. “It was fine.”

His brows rose a touch higher. “Very convincing. You took the taser with you, right?”

You sighed and had to smile a little. His concern warmed you, made you feel protected, even though you’d had to do that part yourself today. You soothed a hand over his chest, between the open panels of his plaid shirt.

“Yes, I did. I’m okay, baby. We’re at a standstill,” you said. And you reminded him, “I can handle myself, you know.”

Dean nodded, sighing through his nose. His hand rubbed up and down your back, whether to comfort you or himself, you didn’t know. Your fingers curled into his shirt, and you smiled up at him, just before you tugged him down for a kiss.

It was slow and sweet, until you became a bit more than sweet, grazing his bottom lip with your teeth. His hand came up to cup the back of your head as he accepted the warmth of your kiss.

You knew that you couldn’t tell Dean what happened this morning in your office. He’d likely go for the Halligan in his trunk and beat Nick Savage within an inch of his life.

While the idea appealed to you for several reasons, you didn’t want to be the reason Dean lost his badge, or ended up in jail.

So over a couple of drinks, you distracted him by having a healthy debate over what you two were going to have for dinner later: sushi or pizza.

You ultimately won with sushi. (Or maybe he let you win. Either way, you were getting salmon rolls tonight.)

Still, you had that uneasy feeling when you and Dean left the bar. You wondered how the hell it had taken you this long to notice the starry look of longing in Jo’s eyes.

You fell into step with Dean as you two headed for the sushi restaurant down the street. It was already dark out, but even on a Tuesday night, the streets and sidewalks of downtown were busy.

“Can I ask you something…potentially uncomfy?” you said.

Dean’s head turned to you, with a raised brow.

“Uncomfy?”

You let out a breath, and you could see it on the December chill in the air. Your hands were tucked into your pockets, and so were Dean’s in his.

“Did you and Jo ever have a thing?” you asked.

Dean blinked, but then his lips pressed together. “What makes you say that?”

You sent him a suspicious look. You’ve known him long enough to know when he’s hedging.

“Just please, answer the question,” you said.

He blew out a breath. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, for a few weeks,” he admitted.

You sighed. That sure explained a hell of a lot. And really, with his track record, you couldn’t be surprised.

“You dated her, or you hooked up with her?” you clarified. Dean shot you a look.

“Dated,” he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Your brows furrowed. “When?”

He’d told you that he’d been in one relationship before, briefly…

“About a few months before I met you,” he said at last. But he saw the incredulous, almost upset look on your face. “Obviously it didn’t work out.” 

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” you asked. Your hands slipped out of your pockets to gesture at him. “How did it end?”

The man sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Come on, Dean,” you prodded.

“All right,” he placated with a hand. “It didn’t end great, put it that way.”

You couldn’t help a frustrated huff. You crossed your arms and kept walking beside him down the street, albeit in silence.

Dean glanced at you in slight exasperation. He was with you now. Why did it matter to you so much?

“She still has feelings for you,” you said, though you still weren’t looking at him.

“How do you figure?” he asked. But if he was honest, even he knew the truth.

“Because I could see her eyeing you like a honey glazed ham,” you snipped. At that, he let out an incredulous chuckle. 

“Are you jealous?” he teased.

You stopped walking and looked up at him, frowning. “Do you want me to be?”

Dean stopped as well. He sobered, realizing you weren’t in the mood for jokes. You’d been through a lot recently, and he knew then that you didn’t need this kind of stress on top of everything else. He drew closer and gently grasped your arms.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Though he thought to himself, I’ll talk to Jo if I have to.

Your lips pursed in frustration, but he soothed his hands up and down your arms. His touch plied you, along with his smile.

“Hey,” Dean said, dipping his chin so he could catch your eyes. “You should know how I feel about you by now.”

You sighed and nodded in agreement.

“Mhmm,” you replied.

He wasn’t satisfied.

“Okay, listen,” he said, squeezing your arms and earning your eyes on him. It took him a moment, letting out a breath, but he was honest.

“I love you," he reminded. "And if that damn elevator hadn’t broke down on you, I’d still be missing something.”

…Damn it, you thought, even as a blushing smile grew across your face. Dean Winchester was too smooth for his own good.

But you also saw the sincerity in his eyes. You couldn’t help but be warmed by his words, down to your toes.

“There she is. All right,” he said with a grin. He nodded in satisfaction and gathered you into his arms. “My soft girl again.” 

Your smile deepened, but you still pinched his side, making him flinch and laugh. You held him back and looked up at his handsome face. He still looked amused and his eyes were warm. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that lingered on wind-chilled lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back, against his lips.

His smile against yours was your answer.

Two hours and two salmon rolls later, Dean drove you home. You had taken an Uber to the Roadhouse, which reminded him that he needed to make another trip to Singer Salvage.

He’d been scoping out potential cars to fix up for you. He’d even recruited Bobby’s help to find something good, something with strong bones. Dean could do the rest.

Even after he watched you get inside your house safely, he let out a subtle breath before he peeled away. He wished you were coming home with him tonight. More often, he was feeling your absence when you weren’t in his bed. But it also reassured him, that he knew you were safe with him and Sam at their apartment.

He later found his brother eating leftover chicken parmesan at the kitchen counter.

“Why’re you eating standing up?” Dean asked, tossing his keys onto the counter. He reached into the fridge for a beer. “You look like Big Bird if he wore a suit.”

Sam sent him a dry look. “I don’t know. Force of habit.”

He barely had time in his day for an uninterrupted coffee, let alone a meal. When Dean wasn’t here, Sam fell back onto his work habits. He took his plate and actually went to the table.

“You eat already?” he asked. Dean nodded and said he’d eaten with you.

“Oh yeah? How’s she doing?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed and sank down heavily onto the chair opposite his brother. He rubbed at his forehead.

“She’s okay, considering,” he replied. But he knew you hadn’t told him the whole story about how your day went at work. Whether you were trying to spare him, or protect him, or yourself, it still drove him up the wall. Knowing Nick Savage was still your boss, and he was there, an ever-present threat just a few floors above you in that building…

It made Dean’s skin crawl. It had his teeth grinding and coiled his spine tight with repressed rage. And worry.

He met his brother’s eyes. Sam had been watching him, hiding his wariness.

“What can we do about him?” Dean asked. He knew he didn’t have to explain who he was talking about.

Sam started to shake his head, but Dean wouldn’t have it.

“I mean it, Sam. Because I almost…” His hand and forearm clenched and unclenched on the table. He could almost feel the way his arm had pressed into Nick’s throat, slowly but surely crushing his trachea. Just a couple of minutes more, and Dean could’ve done it. In that moment, he saw it so clearly.

It was the first time he’d ever wanted to take a man’s life.

“I know,” Sam said. His brows furrowed in sympathy. “But you did the right thing.”

Dean’s lips pursed as his hand once again fisted on the table.

“If I hadn’t been there,” he said. “If I had been just a few minutes off…”

These were the what ifs that kept plaguing his mind, ever since the party. Sometimes, it added to the catalogue of waking nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep.

“And now she’s gotta go back there, every day, where that animal is just waiting for an opportunity,” Dean gritted out. Then his fist dropped more heavily onto the table, rattling Sam’s silverware.

Sam held the table steady and looked at his brother, calm but firm.

“You can’t touch Savage,” he said. “Don’t even go near him. Whatever you do, he’ll use it against you, and potentially against her. Unfortunately, she’s got the best plan right now.”

Dean looked up at him with angry eyes.

“Wait him out,” Sam said, “until he makes a mistake he can’t easily cover up. In the meantime, she’ll find a new job and get the hell out of there.”

Dean forced a sharp breath through his nose. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fist more calmly on the table.

“I don’t have to like it,” he said.

Sam nodded in agreement. “No, you don’t.”

The fire was wild. It was eating up the four-story apartment building in a full blaze. The Truck 79 team was geared up outside of it, with Chief Singer already calling out instructions along with Dean.

Benny and the Rescue Squad were already on the roof, rappelling down to get the ones trapped on the top floors out through the windows. Dean was on the ground. He had Gordon, Jack, and a few others behind him. Meg and Chuck were on standby, waiting for the firefighters to pull out any residents still trapped inside.

Dean had to wonder if he was walking into another arson, like the Richardson fire. Against his will, he thought of that day. He thought about everything his father had told him about that arson, about Azazel and his mom’s death. He thought about you, working for a man who was potentially tied to Azazel.

“Winchester,” Gordon tapped him on the arm. “You good?”

Dean glanced over at him, then nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s rock and roll.”

When Dean was at work, he couldn’t let the outside world into his mind. All he could let himself focus on was the scene ahead after he put his mask on.

Inside the first floor of the building was like entering a living furnace. It was hot as shit, and layers of smoke choked the room. The mask was the only reason Dean could see, let alone breathe.

He turned to Jack. “All right, take it room by room. Stay close. We don’t got a lot of time.”

Jack nodded his agreement, and Dean split his team. A few of the others took the first floor on his orders. Dean, Gordon, and Jack would take the old stairs to clear the second floor.

Fuck. This whole place is just wood and plaster, Dean thought, shaking his head. These old buildings were all the same. Easy to build, easy to knock down. And usually they weren’t up to code, often thanks to cheap property owners.

He got apartment 201 open with his Halligan. The shoebox studio was smokey as all hell, but it was clear of any tenants. Gordon moved on ahead quickly, but Dean’s brows furrowed as he listened to the unsteady creaking of the floorboards. He moved more carefully forward.

Until he felt the warmth under his boots, saw the orange glow underneath a thin patch of flooring.    

“Walker, wait!” Dean called, at the same time he held Jack back.

He reached out, just as the wood floor splintered and broke underneath Gordon. His eyes flashed wide just before he fell.

Dean dove for him. His Halligan clattered away, but he managed to grab onto the man’s sleeve before he disappeared. Gordon grabbed onto Dean’s arm and nearly pulled him down too. Luckily, he managed to grab onto the splintered edge with his other glove-covered hand. He gritted his teeth at the strain of the other man hanging off his shoulder, but he didn’t dare let go.

Jack grabbed Dean’s belt to keep him from sliding further down. It let him grab onto Gordon with both hands. The men panted for breath; Dean had a better vantage point to see that the middle of the ground floor below was engulfed in flames. The glow of it flared in the corner of Gordon’s eyes. He could feel the heat making both of them sweat.

The wood flooring under Dean creaked ominously, but before anyone could move, it broke further. He almost lost his grip on Gordon as his torso hung over the edge. He managed to get a new stronghold under the other man’s arm, and Jack did his best to keep Dean from falling by pinning his legs down. Jack was strong, but he was still a smaller man than Dean.  

“Jack, call for backup!” Dean gritted out. Jack nodded behind him and radioed in for help.

Gordon stared up at Dean with wide, but resigned eyes. “The floor’s gonna cave before you can pull me up.”

Dean stared down at him, even as lines of sweat poured down his forehead from within his mask. They both knew that if that happened, Dean would be pulled along for the ride down, maybe even Jack too. Dean gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Just hold on. Backup’s comin’,” he said. All his strength was going into keeping a firm grip on the man’s arm and jacket. He called to Jack over his shoulder. “Can you get next to me and grab him?”

To his credit, Jack tried. But the jagged edges of the floor around Dean were unsteady, creaking and groaning under Jack’s added weight, a bit too much.

“Stop, stop!” Dean shouted, halting Jack’s movements.

Gordon licked his dry lips and blinked sweat out of his eyes. “This might be the part where you let go, Winchester.”

Dean took exactly a beat to process his shock. Then he glared down at the man.

“Shut the hell up, Walker. You don’t let go, you hear me?” he barked. “Jack, grab the back of my jacket and my belt.”

Jack followed the order, and a combination of him pulling Dean up and Dean straining every muscle he had to heft up Gordon slowly, painfully, brought them back up and over the ledge.

Jack had an easier time then of helping Dean pull Gordon the rest of the way out of the hole.

And the rest of their Truck crew came to help them onto their feet, before the fire consumed the rest of the second floor.

Once Dean was out of the building, he took off his mask and breathed in cooler air on his face. He made a beeline for the fire truck. In the back was a cooler, and grabbed a bottle of water to dump over his overheated head and face while he caught his breath. Gordon and Jack were following suit, and the men stared and one another. All of their faces said the same thing.

We made it. We’re alive. That was almost fucked.

Gordon’s gaze met Dean’s, sobering further. For a moment, he looked like he was searching for words.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked eventually.

Dean nodded, rotating his right arm. He was going to feel that bitch tomorrow.

“Fine,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Gordon nodded. Another hesitation, followed by an honest gaze. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile, wry but also genuine. “Yeah, thank me by layin’ off the burgers.”

He swatted the other man’s stomach and went for three more waters. He handed two of them to Jack and Gordon. One was smiling, while the other just smirked and shook his head.

“You callin’ me hefty?” Gordon remarked. “I’m averaging 6% body fat, man.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. What’re you, the Rock? That’s why you almost sunk.”

He dropped his fist into the air and made an exploding sound. Jack was wide-eyed, but Gordon just chuckled. They started making their way to the front of the truck to start packing up their gear. The Truck and Rescue teams had done what they could, and all the residents that made it out of the building were being seen to by the paramedics.

“I’d rather be weighed down by muscle than all them Little Debbie’s you’ve been putting away at the station,” Gordon shot back. “Cheap cake is not your friend.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, that’s just uncalled for.”

“Dean,” Chief Singer called, beckoning him over with a hand. His free hand wore a glove as he held something steaming.

Dean nodded at his men and joined Bobby outside his department-issued SUV. Dean’s gaze focused on the bottle-shaped object in Bobby’s hand. There was a small digital box attached to the front, with wires wrapped around. The entire device was now blackened, but the smell of chemicals was unmistakable.

“Molotov cocktail?” Dean quipped, but his face was as grave as Bobby’s. The Chief nodded.

“Lafitte pulled this out of the fourth floor,” he said. “Looks like the same kind of incendiary device Arson found at the Richardson fire.” 

That night, you made dinner for Dean at your house. He was forced to explain what happened at the apartment building, and why he had his arm pinned to his side like a chicken wing. You made him sit down and relax, all while you tried to hide your worry and relief that he was mostly all right.

Later in the living room, you sat on your knees beside him on the couch and lifted the bag of ice from his shoulder. You peered at it in concern, gently rubbing your hand over the joint and surrounding muscle. Dean sighed through his nose as your gentle touch was both soothing and painful.

“Are you sure you should do another shift tomorrow?” you asked, replacing the ice. He shot you a glance.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Right,” you said dryly. “That’s why you can barely move this arm.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made his point by raising his right arm, slowly, but easily back down.

“I’ll be up and running by tomorrow. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Dean, are you sure? You seem to be in a lot of pain,” you asked.

He tried to hold in his annoyance. “I think I’d know if I’m fine.”

“You forget, I know all too well what downplaying looks like,” you countered, giving him a chiding look. Dean didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t need you to mother him.

“This is my job, all right,” he said.

You gave him a steady look. Your hand moved up his shoulder to rest along the back of his neck. Your fingers slipped into his hair.

“I know that. But I’m allowed to worry,” you said. Your brows furrowed. “Please don’t get upset at me for that.”

Dean let out a breath. He relaxed against the couch and met your gaze. He knew he had no right to ask you not to worry about him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

To you, he still seemed a bit annoyed. You nodded and continued to gently sift your fingers through his hair. You had to wonder if his resentment was coming from a different place.

“Are you still mad at me for going back to work?” you tested.

Dean breathed out deeper this time, but he didn’t answer.

Bingo, you thought with a frown.

“Dean—”

“All I want is for you to be safe,” he said. His voice was harder as his face tightened up. His hand gestured in frustration. “This whole thing…that fucking douchebag…it’s killing me. Fucking killing me. And you know that.”

Your eyes softened, and you unconsciously bit your lip.

“Ditto,” you tried to joke. It landed flat, because your boyfriend was deadly serious.

He looked away from you with pursed lips and a frustrated shake of his head. You sidled closer to him and tried to soothe, with a hand on his chest.

“Look, I’m trying to find a new job, but it takes time,” you said.

“You could quit. You could quit right now,” Dean replied hotly.

You sighed; you couldn’t believe you had to remind him about this. “I can’t, Dean. I have bills to pay, just like you do. You think I like this situation any more than you? I’m the one who’s had to deal with this for months!” 

“I know that!” Dean snapped back. “Or should I say, now I do.”

He pulled away from your touch and pushed off the couch, onto his feet. You looked up with your mouth agape as he left the room. You got up and followed after him.

“You’re leaving?” you asked in shock. You watched him grab his keys and his wallet from the kitchen counter.

“I’ve got a long shift tomorrow and I gotta sleep,” Dean said, rather gruffly.

You followed him all the way to the door, where you grabbed onto his wrist. He stopped in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Dean, please,” you implored. “Don’t go like this.”

After a beat, he seemed to soften. Just enough to lean over and press a brief kiss to the side of your head.

“I gotta go.”

He left you in the doorway with tears swimming in your eyes, and he pretended not to notice them.

When Dean woke up the next morning, his shoulder still ached, and he still felt guilty. He rubbed the offending join and tried to slowly roll the stiffness out of his arm. Fuck.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes next. They blearily took in the digital numbers on his alarm clock: 5:00 a.m.

He slid out of bed and got ready for work. He definitely wanted to check in with Arson about the device that likely started that fire, and he knew his dad would need to be brought in on it. It would give Dean a reason to press John for an update on his investigation.

By 6:00, he was finishing his coffee, about ready to head over to the station. He could hear the pipes running, meaning Sam was in the shower.

Dean was startled only slightly by his phone vibrating in his pocket. His brows furrowed, but he fished it out and found your name crossing the screen, along with a smiling picture of you. He sighed.

Part of him hesitated. If you were calling just to try and convince him to call out of work, he was going to get worked up again. And he’d rather not have anything disturb his first cup of coffee of the day.

Still, he answered. “Hey.”

“Dean, did you come into the house last night?” you asked.

He didn’t like the wary, almost scared tone of your voice.

“No.” His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Look at the text I just sent you.”

He put you on speaker so he could check his messages. Sure enough, he found a picture from you. It was of a glass bottle-shaped object on your nightstand. There was a black box attached, but its digital screen was blank. Dean’s breath caught in his lungs as his eyes widened. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Dean, what is this thing?” you asked. Your voice was shakier, more worried. “It looks like a bomb. And it smells awful, like chemicals.”

“Don’t touch it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the house…better yet, wait for me at your neighbor’s place. I’m coming over right now.”

And I’m calling Dad.

Dean tried his best to calm you while the police and the Arson Department swept your entire house for devices, fingerprints, and any other evidence on who broke in.

You had a hand over your mouth by the front door as you watched them turn over cushions, move tables and shelves, ruck through cabinets. Your entire life turned inside out.

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your back. You eventually had to look away and sigh. You pressed closer to his side, and he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said quietly, and kissed the top of your head. Inside, he was furious. Mostly at himself.

If anything had happened to you last night, after he left…he would’ve never forgiven himself.

So it was a welcome distraction when John and Cas’s police car finally pulled into the driveway. Dean led you outside, away from the chaos happening in your house.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, with a nod at Cas. Both men nodded back.

“Son,” John greeted, His brown eyes turned to you next. He offered you a hand. “Good to finally meet you, despite the circumstances.”

You blinked up at him and curled a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a bit nervously.

“Oh, it’s…it’s great to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, sticking out your hand and shaking his.

A smile flickered across Dean’s lips. He realized then that this was the first time you were meeting his father. You were adorably nervous.

A reserved smile tugged at his father’s lips as well.

“John’s just fine.”

You smiled back, with a bit of a blush tinging your cheeks.

“Now, can you tell me what happened here?” John asked you, not unkindly.

Dean’s good humor faded away as he explained about the device left on your nightstand. He filled them in about the fire he’d responded to yesterday as well.

“What the hell is happening, Dad?” he demanded to know.

John let out a breath and nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair.

“It’s another one of Azazel’s signatures,” he said, lowering his voice so only the four of them could hear. “It’s a message.”

“To who?” Dean asked.

“To me,” John said. “Warning me to back off the case…there’ve been other threats. I’ve finally got a police detail on Sam, and I just got approval for you. I’ll add her to the list.”

John glanced at you. Your eyes widened in confusion as you tried to hold in your fear.

“Who the hell is Azazel?” You turned to Dean. “Is this…does this have something to do with your mom’s killer?”

John’s brows shot up at his son. “You told her?”

“You’re over here talking about him too,” Dean retorted. He gathered you closer and met his father with steely eyes, to mask how his gut was churning with worry.

“You need to get this guy,” Dean said, almost through gritted teeth. “Get him now.”

John agreed with a nod.

Once again, you covered a trembling hand over your mouth. Dean squeezed your side a bit to earn your attention.

“I want you to come stay with me,” he said. His tone was boding no argument, not that you would. You nodded and fairly melted against him. Your head rested against his chest.

“Dean, this is insane,” you whispered.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know. I’m sorry…I’m so fucking sorry about this.”

You looked up at him, your brows furrowing. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean met your gaze, but he couldn’t quite believe you. He was the one who kept pushing his dad for answers, to let him in on this. This was his family’s bullshit, not yours. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into it too.

The spell between you two was broken by Cas, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“We do need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About Nick Savage.”

You frowned. You peeled yourself away from Dean enough to face the detectives.

“What does he have to do with this?” you asked.

“His company is linked to a money laundering scheme, which ultimately leads back to Azazel,” Cas explained. “But we’re having trouble getting through his wall of lawyers.”

You scoffed. “Not surprising.”

However, it did worry you that Nick was possibly doing business with a criminal. Not that that should surprise you either. 

“What do you want to know?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, would you be willing to file a police report,” Cas said, more gently, “regarding your assault at his home.”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you looked over at Dean. His face tightened, along with his hand on the curve of your waist.

“Why do you need me to do that?” you asked Cas.

“It’ll give us the leverage we need to dig deeper into his business,” John said. “Knock loose any shady dealings. We could get him to cough up what he knows about Azazel.”

You wanted to help, but at the same time, you were reluctant to mire yourself deeper in this. Dean saw your reservations, and he could guess why.

“Won’t that just paint a bigger target on her back?” he asked.

“We’re gonna protect her,” John promised. His eyes went from Dean, back to you. “But we need your help. This could be the break we need to get to Azazel. To find out who this bastard is.”

John could see your indecision. “All you need to do is fill out the report. Maybe get up in court to testify.”

You tightened up at that. “Testify?”

“If it gets that far,” John nodded.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “That man can make my life hell without a serial killer’s help.”

You looked to Dean for support.

In the beginning, he had all but begged you to do what his father and Cas were asking. But now, this was just too much. He pressed you more securely to his side.

“Dean?” his father prodded.

“You heard her,” Dean said. “It’s her choice.”

You sighed and held onto the back of his shirt gratefully. The detectives shared a look, with John’s brows furrowing. He regarded you with a gruff, slightly strained look.

“Listen, don’t you want Savage in a cold hard cell?” he asked. “You could put him there.”

“Dad, she said no. Lay off,” Dean’s tone sharpened. Unfortunately, he knew how stubborn the man could be.

“Dean, I’m trying to nail this guy, but I’m missing pieces,” John said. “Right now, I can’t do it without her.”

“Well, figure it out,” Dean snapped.

John frowned in near disbelief. "Excuse me?"

“Look, I know where your priorities are, but mine is making sure she’s safe," said Dean. "If you can’t handle that, then we’ve got a problem!”

The strength of his retort took everyone by surprise, but no one more so than John. He hid it well behind a deepening frown.

He glanced between you and his son. You were looking up at Dean with unshed tears in your red-rimmed eyes, grateful, and holding on tight to his shirt. He still held you to him. His entire frame was tight and angry.

And John knew that he would react the same way, if he were Dean. He also knew then that he was pushing too hard.

So he sighed, and pulled out a card from his wallet. He handed it to you.

“I’m sure you’ve got Cas’s number already, but here’s mine,” said John. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I’m sorry for invading,” you told Sam that night. He was helping you and Dean bring in your suitcases. You were pretty much moving into their apartment, indefinitely.

“You’re not,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We’re happy to have you here.”

You gave him a tired, thankful smile. “I appreciate that, thanks.”

“We’ll get to have an in-house chef,” Dean chimed in, earning more amused look from you.

“Need I remind you that I’m not an actual chef?” you said. You set down your smaller suitcase, full of shoes and toiletries, to grasp the front of his shirt. You leaned up on your toes and met him with a kiss. It was sweet, but it was also tender. His arms came around your lower back and pulled you flush against him.

He parted from you gently, afterwards pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a brief sigh through his nose.

“I’m sorry, about how I left last night,” he said.

You shook your head, despite the tears that wanted to burn in your eyes. You wanted to tell him, It’s fine. I’m fine.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“You came back when I needed you,” you said instead. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his hand resting along the back of your neck. It was familiar, and soothing.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to move in,” he admitted. You chuckled wryly.

“Really,” he said. “…I was thinking of asking you. But not ‘til, you know, down the line.”

You softened at that. You raised up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you circled your arms around his neck and hugged him close. He held you back just as tightly.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you said. He couldn’t see your smile, but somehow, he knew it was there. But he could also hear you sniffle, and feel your body tremble with tears.

“You’re safe here,” Dean said softer into your ear. “Nothing’s getting to you, all right?”

 You nodded, pressing your face into his neck. He continued to say and do whatever he felt he had to in order to reassure you that night, and make you feel safe.

All the while, he was trying to reassure himself.

AN: *burrr* That tension, huh? What did you think of her finally finding out about Jo's lingering feelings, plus a bit of Dean's resentment, him and Gordon coming to an understanding, and the reader meeting John for the first time! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Good news though. Next time, we'll take a huge break from all this drama and have a nice fluffy Christmas special. (Plus a healthy dose of spice. ❤️‍🔥)

Next Time:

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Keep Reading: PART 15

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[delulu4dean]

“A Game Of Angels & Devils”

Warnings: Smut, it’s smut, pure smut. Swearing and maybe some violence but mainly smut

Pairings: Demon!Dean x female angel!reader

Summary: Dean is a demon, and he’s loose in the bunker with Castiel’s angels sister.

Word Count: 1,781

Castiel always had a rough relationship with the other angels, you were the only one he really saw as a sibling. You always stood by him no matter what, so when he asked you to help with Dean, his best friend, you jumped at the chance. But Dean was also a legend, to heaven and hell. And now that he’s a demon, you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t wait to meet him, you couldn’t wait to see what he was capable of.

Castiel and Sam were out of the bunker while Dean was trapped in a chair, the same one previously used to hold Crowley. You were left alone with Dean. Castiel had other things to deal, and Sam went off to get groceries. Nobody anticipated that the attempt to cure Dean would turn out this way.

The cure of course, is human blood. But unfortunately Dean had just enough human in him to escape, and enough demon in him to come for your ass. And when you saw he’d escape, you were terrified. After everything that happened with the angels and heaven, you knew you couldn’t stand a chance against Dean Winchester.

So here you are now, walking down the halls, as Dean’s voice booms through the bunker, “Y/N! I’m coming for you!” Your steps are quiet as to not draw any attention while you look for a place to hide. The only place you can think of is under a bed, and the bed happens to be in Dean’s room. You try to quiet your breathing down, covering your mouth. You know you’d have to keep Dean from escaping but right now he’s after one thing: you. Dean didn’t like angels much before, except for Cas. All other angels were dicks. Dean being a demon means all that hatred is on another level.

“Come on Y/N, I just want to have some fun. Let’s play a game!” his voice sends shivers down your spine. You know he’s going to hunt you down and he’s not quitting any time soon. Of course you wanted to see what he was capable of but not with him roaming

The clicking of his boots on the bunker floor get louder as he gets closer. You see him entering the room, walking closer to his bed. You hold your breath, scared to what he would do. And then he crouches, and you see him looking right into your eyes.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, as he grabs your shoulders and pulls you out from under the bed.

“There you are, princess. I was beginning to think you were hiding from me,” he taunts you. His smirk is playful but his eyes are determined.

“You got me, what now, Dean?” you look up at your brother’s best friend. You keep your voice steady and refuse to let Dean see the fear in your eyes.

“I can torture you, use you to get what I want out of Sammy and Cas,” he explains. But what did he want, other than to kill all three of you?

“Yeah except you’ve got more human blood in you now. You’re not as strong,” you spit. You can’t tell if you’re being brave or stupid, talking to Dean like this.

He glares at you, grabbing you by the shirt. He may not be so strong for a demon, but he’s Dean Winchester, so he’s strong enough. And so you are scared, of course you are scared. But a small part of you is excited too.

“I’d be careful if I were you, princess. Watch your mouth.”

You don’t wait for him to do anything, as your knee goes straight for between his legs. He lets go of you and hunches over in pain.

“You’re going to regret that,” he growls.

You attempt to run off but he grabs your arm and pulls you back, before throwing you on his bed. You lay on your back, looking at him, as he walks closer to you. His eyes burn with anger, but there’s another feeling mixed in there that you can’t quite place.

“You know, we never got along,” Dean starts, as he gets on top of you. “It’s a shame, your Cas’ sister, I’m his best friend, we should get along.”

“Yeah I’m going to get along with the guy who toys around with my brother, he ruined his reputation with heaven, he was a good soldier of heaven, and then you happened,” you lecture Dean. You’ve always felt like Dean ruined Cas.

“And yet here you are, helping him,” Dean smirks. Dean climbs onto his bed, crawling on top of you.

“He was my mentor, I’ve been by his side for years and years. He’s my family.”

“And he’s my best friend. Or was, before all this happened.”

You sigh, looking up at the demon on top of you. Your breathing is heavy, as you stare into his eyes. He smirks at you, leaning down. You don’t know what to say or do, as he gets closer to your ear.

“I think I have another idea on what I want to do with you,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to tense up.

You look down at his hand, unzipping your jeans. You gently gasp as his hand goes in your panties and his middle finger finds your clit. You bite your lip, feeling your body relax under his touch. His lips brush against the skin of your neck, before he starts kissing it.

“We may not get along but you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this with you, Y/N. Way before all this happened actually. And now, as a demon, ruining your angelic innocence,” you feel his breath on your neck.

“Oh, honey, I may be an angel but I’m not innocent,” you look back up into his eyes.

His eyes are dark with lust, as he sits up, pulling your pants off, and then your panties. As he does, you throw off your shirt and quickly undo your bra and toss it to the side. Dean’s hands roam up and down your body, before he takes off his own clothes, and positioning himself to enter you.

“I’m going to make you my bitch,” he tells you.

“I’d like to see you try.”

And with that, he pushes himself inside you, and you let out a moan. He pounds into you, holding your hands above your head, pinning them to his bed. With his other hand, he grabs your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist, allowing him to go in deeper. He’s hitting your sweet spot, over and over, but you can’t let him just win like this.

You break free from his grasp, and roll over, using both of your hands to pin his to the bed, while you take control. Up and down you bounce, causing him to grunt, as he glares at you. You continue to work your magic, and Dean let’s you. No way were you going to let Dean make you his bitch.

“Yeah you like this?” you tease Dean. “I bet you do. You have this tough boy act but really you’re just a little bitch.” Wrong move.

In a second, he’s back on top of you, thrusting fast and hard, hand around your throat. You gasp, moaning. But you still refuse to lose. If this is the game Dean wants to play, you’re playing too.

“Look at you,” Dean says, putting his thumb on your lips. “Be a good little angel and open.”

You comply, and he puts his thumb in your mouth for you to suck, so you do.

“Good angel, taking orders like you should.”

You smirk, his finger still in your mouth, as you get an idea. You bite his thumb, and he pulls it out, growling. He grabs your face, and makes you look into his eyes.

“Did you just fucking bite me?”

“Yes,” you simply answer.

Instead of saying anything, he decides two can play that game. He leans down and bites your neck, gently. Instead of pain you feel bliss, with the mix of the love bites and his length in you sliding in and out.

You’re not going to lie, there always been a sort of attraction to Dean, but in your mind he was always off limits. You didn’t know how your brother felt about Dean, you just knew he was his best friend. But you definitely are not complaining about having sex with Dean.

You wrap your legs around Dean, wanting some sense of control. You want a chance of winning but as you and Dean look into each others eyes, you realize this might end in a draw. And neither of you are complaining.

As your walls tighten around him, he grunts, his lips crashing into yours. You kiss back, holding his face in your hands. He continues fucking you with passion, as you both come closer to your orgasms. His skin hits your clit over and over as he fucks you, pushing you closer to the edge. His finger goes to your clit, rubbing it, bringing you to your orgasm.

He follows shortly after, pulling out and finishing off on your chest, his eyes going black. He knew better than to finish in you. If a half demon/half human kid is dangerous, and a half angel/half human kid is dangerous, you couldn’t only imagine what would happen if there was an offspring of a human and a demon. Dean was smarter than risking releasing something like that upon the world, even as a demon.

You’re both panting, as he lays down next to you. His arm wraps around you, pulling you close. It’s a warm feeling that you didn’t expect from a demon. Maybe enough of Dean was in there, especially with the human blood Sam has been injecting in him. You really don’t know, and you don’t need to know. You just really enjoy being in his arms like this.

“Guess we both lost,” Dean breaks the silence.

“Yeah, and I’m glad we did,” you tell him, turning your body to face him. “Cas is so going to kill you if he finds out.”

“Like he can,” Dean rolls his eyes.

You smile, enjoying the moment. Right now, it doesn’t matter if Cas wouldn’t approve, if Dean is a demon or if you didn’t like him before you met him. It doesn’t matter that you are an angel and all angels were dicks in Dean’s eyes, because you aren’t. In Dean’s eyes, you’re this angel, and as a demon he can see you for what you are. And he is mesmerized.

[thetriumphantpanda]

Letting Off Steam

One Day I'll Fly Away - Chapter Two

Chapter Summary | A call from home makes you wish that all of this would go away, but until it does, you make it your mission to annoy Joel Miller as much as you can.

Word Count | 3.5k

Pairing | Joel Miller x Princess F!Reader 

Chapter Warnings | Mentions of alcohol, the British Royal Family, extreme wealth, food and eating, as well as mentions of body image issues and implied infidelity. Joel is grumpy as always, Miss Scandal is pushing his buttons. The sheep gang up on Joel. Joel is a typical man and can't help but take one (1) look at the princess' backside. Reader has very little description apart from her clothing. No outbreak-AU, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | Thank you for being so patient in waiting for this. I'm still SO excited by these two and their story and things will be hotting up soon, I promise! If you liked this then please consider commenting, reblogging and screaming along with me in my ask box!

Please note that I no longer use tag lists - please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Kofi | Series Playlist

A bowl sits on the edge of the desk, full of peaches, sitting in the sliver of sunlight that filters through the window, warming the fuzzy skin. You reach down, pluck the fruit from the top of the bowl and rub your thumbs over the skin, warm and soft. Bringing it to your mouth, you drag your teeth through the softness of the flesh, savouring the sweetness as it floods your mouth, but even warmed in the sun like they are, this peach still doesn’t taste like the one you ate at the farm, plucked only moments ago from the tree, sun warmed and sweet.

You’ve barely finished the fruit when the phone at the side of the bed rings. It makes you close your eyes, pinch the bridge of your nose, and you think about ignoring it - there are very few people who know where you are, the Palace for one, on their insistence considering it was their security detail keeping an eye on you, your parents for another, but you doubt it’s them considering the shame you’ve apparently brought to their door. Tossing the stone in the bin, you walk the few steps to the phone and pick it up, but you don’t say anything, a trick you’d since learnt since the first headlines hit - remain silent, listen for a small click and wait to see who talks first.

“Texas looks like fun.”

There’s a wave of comfort that falls over your shoulders at the voice coming through the receiver. You check the watch on your wrist, calculating the time difference between Austin and London, shaking your head a little.

“Are you awake early, or up late?”

“You know me,” The voice chuckles a little, “Never one to turn down a party, and George was hosting at Claridge’s.”

“How many people took your photo?” You ask, sitting down on the bed.

“Oh honey, I’m going to splashed across every single newspaper come morning,” He laughs, “Throngs of them at the door and I’m sure someone has already sold the pictures of me drinking champagne from the bottle, stood on the table with some random woman holding onto my arm.”

You let your fingers tangle in the spiral cord, you know exactly what he’s doing, trying his best to make a scene wherever he goes in the hopes it drags the attention off you for just a moment. God, he’d always been the best friend you’d ever had. Sam. The only man who you think has ever cared for you.

“How is Texas?” You hear him ask, tone a little more clipped now.

“It’s…” You start with a sigh, “Fine.”

“I see they managed to catch you at dinner the other night,” You can hear some clattering in the background and the sound of liquid pouring, his nightcap no doubt, “Have they swarmed you?”

“I don’t think so,” You offer, “Not that I’ve noticed anyway, although now one paper knows I’m here it’s only a matter of time.”

“Any local talent?”

“Shut your mouth,” You laugh, “I’m here to escape the drama, not cause more of it.”

“So there is local talent!” He barks down the phone, “Go on, spill!”

Your mind flits to yesterday. To Joel Miller. The way he’d looked at you with contempt, clearly completely uncaring about etiquette, completely uncaring about you in general, and you understood. Small town, used to the small town dynamics day-in, day-out, about to be uprooted when the worlds media found out you were here. It only seemed to spur you on, much like everything in your life had. When your husband had turned his cheek to you and flashed his sparkly eyes at the girl sat to his left, that was a challenge you weren’t about you lose, and look where that got you. A scarlet letter, the words whore and slut banded around like they meant nothing. There was something in the way Joel Miller, with his rough and dirty hands, had looked at you like you were nothing but another customer that set you on fire in the worst way.

“It’s nothing,” You insist to Sam down the phone, “I think we exchanged less that four sentences with each other and I’m sure he already hates me for upsetting the small-town equilibrium.”

“It all starts somewhere.”

There’s a moment of silence, where the two of you just sit and listen to each other breathe. It’s a comfort, to know there’s at least one person on the other side of that ocean that still cares for you in some way, it’s just a shame he got caught up in the storm of shit along with you, but if it had to be someone, you’re glad it was him.

“I miss you.” You speak first.

“I miss you too, princess,” You can hear the smile in his voice, “It’ll all blow over eventually,” He soothes, “And then you can come back and George can host at The Savoy in celebration.”

You laugh at that, reminisce about all the parties you used to go to together, the harmless trouble you’d find yourself in more often than not, “Go to bed.” You insist.

“Yes, ma’am,” And you can perfectly picture the salute he’s just done on the other end of the phone, “Go and find your local talent.”

He’s hung up before you can argue with him, so you set the receiver back down on the handset, sit on the bed for a while, chin. resting on your palm, before you decide what to do. You lean your head out of the door and find Rob sitting in a chair at the end of the hall, when he notices you, he perks up a little.

“Can you drive me back to the farm from yesterday?”

Joel doesn’t really know why he does it, sat over his morning coffee, black and bitter, but there’s an itch in his fingers, so he pulls out his phone, slips on his glasses and opens up the Google app. He can hear Ellie laughing at him as he types with one finger, slowly typing her name into the search bar. He gets halfway through her first name when a slew of suggested searches pop up - the first one is her name followed by the word scandal. The next replaces scandal with affair. The further down he looks, the more pathetic the searches get, replacing the last word he reads with things like weight, depression and even nudes.

He sighs, shakes his head and just finishes writing her name before he hits the enter button. At the top of the Google page of results there’s a few images - one of her at her wedding, linked arm in arm with her ex-husband, smiles on both their faces. There’s one of her shaking the hand of some foreign dignitary, smiling as she does, and then another, grainy, clearly taken at night, as she sits at a restaurant with a man that isn’t her husband.

Joel knows the story, it was splashed across enough of his morning papers for him not to miss it. An affair with another man, caught red-handed talking to him on the phone about things Joel would rather not remember reading. There’s a part of him that feels sorry for her, that someone had managed to tap her phone and listen to her for long enough to catch her in the act, but he thinks more that it serves her right for being unfaithful. There isn’t a smile dazzling enough or a tip big enough from her that would make him think otherwise.

As much as he hates to admit it, he spends far too much of his morning reading about you on his phone. There’s an article he finds that tracks your ‘rise and fall’ as the British tabloid put it. There are dates, followed by photos and a little blurb for each moment in your life - from meeting the Prince at university, the whirlwind romance, the engagement, the wedding, the gossip about when you would start popping out children, right down to the photo they took of you running onto the plane to escape - grey English skies, some man holding an umbrella over your head to keep you dry as you turned your face from the cameras. He thinks it a little tragic really.

When he finally drags his attention back to the watch on his wrist, he sighs. The sheep are going to have his guts for making them wait for their food, and he can’t pick the peaches off the tree fast enough to stop the vast majority on them falling off and rotting on the ground. He downs the last of his cold coffee now, puts the mug in the sink and turns to head to his truck when he hears the telltale sound of the gravel on his drive crunching under wheels.

Joel takes a few steps towards the window and sees the same car as yesterday. You can’t possibly have run out of peaches already and there's no way his fruit would have rotted either, so he can feel his eyebrows furrow at what on earth you could want now.

By the time he makes his way to the porch, you’re already out of the car, taking small steps back and forth as you’re waiting for him. That makes his blood boil, that even though he doesn’t know you and certainly aren’t obligated for him to drop everything for you, you still expect it, and it makes his blood boil even more that he sequesters to it, walks out onto the porch like an obedient dog.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

You flash that smile from yesterday at him again, one he’s pretty sure has managed to get you exactly what you wanted every single day of your life. It’s not that different to the smile Sarah used to give - sometimes still does, even now she’s grown.

“Well, I was just wondering if you’d show me around?” You ask, “Visiting farms was never my role back home but I’m fascinated to see how things work.”

Joel takes a look at you, a long look up and down and he worries for a second that it looks like he’s checking you out, but he’s just fascinated by how your brain works, that you’ve turned up to his dusty ranch in the middle of Texas in long white slacks, sandals and a white vest - he lets a snort leaves his nose and he shakes his head slight, “Ain’t exactly dressed for ranching, Princess.”

He watches as you shrug, letting your fingers grip at the hem of your vest, holding it up slightly so he can see a slip of skin underneath, “This old thing?” You say, “I don’t mind if it gets dirty.”

“It ain’t your shirt I'm worried about,” He points to your shoes, “You’ll break your neck walking around in those.”

Joel watches intently as you look down at your feet - perfectly pedicured toes peeking out from the hem of your trousers, “You don’t have anything I can borrow?” You ask softly, then, “I’m going out of my mind cooped up in that hotel room.”

For a second, he considers saying no. He doesn’t want you here, not really, you’re just going to become an even bigger pain in the ass if he lets you hang around, and he has no interest in getting caught up in whatever it is you’ve got going on, but the softness in your voice makes him crumble a little. He knows that if he were resigned to four walls he’d be going crazy too.

So he rolls his eyes, and disappears into the house, roots around on the shoe rack until he finds Ellie’s beat up boots, it’s the best he’s got, knowing by the look of her that they’re probably going to be a little tight. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he runs upstairs and grabs a pair of his thinnest socks - he certainly doesn’t want to be responsible for giving the princess blisters.

“Put these on,” He’s gruff with it as he hands them over, “Probably a bit small bit it’s all I got.”

He watches intently as you slip your sandals off slowly and hand them over to the man who gets out of the car and follows you everywhere. You struggle to get the boots on but eventually they end up on your feet. He can’t help that his eyes wander to your backside when you stand up, Texas dust settled on the creased of your trousers.

“If you’re comin’ with me you gotta do exactly what I say, when I say it, understood?”

You bring two fingers up to your temple and salute him, “Yes, sir.”

Joel's ranch is huge, is the first thing you realise. There’s an expansive orchard full of his famous peach trees that he drives you up to first. He’s silent, brooding in the drivers seat, scowl across his face. You can’t help but bring your hand up, settling your pointer finger into your mouth and biting down to stop your laughter from bubbling up and over.

He pulls the truck up at one edge of the orchard and steps out so you follow behind him. You meet him at the back of the truck as he reaches over and picks up a stack of wooden crates - the same ones you’ve taken back with you the last few times, overflowing with fruit. He hands the stack to you, which you take.

“You’re gonna earn your keep if you’re gonna annoy me.”

You chuckle, “Sure thing,” You say, following behind him as he walks towards the first tree, “I’m not work shy, you know.” You call after him, running slightly behind him to catch up.

“Course not,” He grumbles, “Years of shakin’ hands is great work experience for this.”

You roll your eyes, setting the stack of crates on the ground, deciding it’s probably best to let him say what he wants - it’s nothing you haven’t heard before anyway.

“This is easy,” He starts, gripping one of the lower branches of the tree, pulling it down so it’s in your eyeline, “Grip the fruit in your palm and twist it until it comes off.”

You do as he says, letting the bottom of the fruit sit in your palm, delicate fingers gripping at the sides, and you twist gently, feeling the branch tighten and the a snap when the fruit comes free in your palm.

“Just like that,” Joel muses, “Now just put it in the crate and move onto the next.”

You continue like that for a while, Joel pulling the branches down so you can pluck the fruit off and into the crate, until the first tree is bare as far as you can reach and you have a crate full of peaches.

“How do you get the fruit from the top?” You ask, raking a hand over your forehead to try and get rid of the sweat that’s gathering there.

He doesn’t reply, he merely steps closer to you, puts one of his palms against your stomach and pushes you gently back out of the way, then he turns around, puts both hands on the trunk of the tree and gives it a shake. You laugh as some of the fruit from the top tumbles down and hits the ground.

“If it ain’t falling then it ain’t ready.” Joel murmurs, starting to bend over to pick up the fruit from the ground to put it into another crate.

Joel leaves you to it from there, moving onto his own tree so you can divide and conquer, but somewhere around the third crate that you fill, your interest wanes. You can hear soft bleating coming from near the barn that you can see in the distance, so you walk that way, leaving Joel and the peaches behind for what sounds like something much more interesting.

When Joel stands up from his filled crate and looks around, you’re nowhere to be found. Panic sinks in. You’d insisted that whoever was looking after you didn’t have to come with, that Joel looked more than capable of looking after you for a few hours, and now he had no fucking clue where you were. That would make a mighty fine headline in any newspaper.

He rushes back to the truck, hand resting on his forehead to shade his eyes from the sun when he spots you - a white silhouette stood in a mass of his sheep. God fucking damn it, he thinks, abandoning the crates of fruit to get into his truck to drive over to you.

“What the hell’a you doin?” He calls out of the window when he pulls up near to you.

You turn around, one hand resting on the head of one of his sheep who seems to be enjoying the attention, “I just wanted to know what the noise was,” You shrug, “I’ve never touched a sheep before.”

“Will you-” He sighs, slinging open the truck door, “Get away from them, they’re dirty.”

You look down at the sheep that’s leant against your lower leg, tipping its head so you scratch it again, “Did you hear what he just said about you?” You ask the animal, who he swears looks right at him and bleats, “Exactly, he’s not very nice is he?”

He spots another sheep heading straight for you just a little too late to catch it before it’s reaching up with it’s teeth to take hold of the hem of your shirt. It tugs a little, not enough to do any damage, but enough to make you lose your balance a little. Joel steps forward, his muscle memory kicking in from all the times Sarah and Ellie had been in this exact predicament, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you steady, whilst his other hand waves to make the sheep move away.

When he’s sure you’re not at risk of toppling into the dusty ground, he looks down at you, slightly tilted in the way he caught you so you’re looking up at him, wide-eyed, one of your arms fisting at the flannel to keep yourself steady. He coughs, clears his throat and lets you go like you’d just burned him.

“They’re unpredictable,” He chastises, “You’ll get hurt if you wander off like that.”

“Sorry.” Is all you say, but he feels like it’s genuine, “Why sheep?” You ask to his back as he walks away.

“They’re quiet, and they do what they’re told.”

There’s a brown stain on your pristine white shirt now, to match the dust that had settled across your backside from earlier, and he can’t help but smile to himself as he turns back towards the truck, pristine little princess getting herself all dirty on his ranch. He shakes his head, banishing any thought that isn’t his distaste for the way you’re going to continue uprooting everything with your presence, motioning his head for you to get into the other side.

The rest of the afternoon goes off without a hitch, you help him with the feeding and finish picking the rest of the peaches. He lets you eat one of the fruit on the way back to his house, listening as you slurp at the juices.

“Well, thank you for that,” You say as you get down from the truck, “It’s so interesting to see how things work.”

“You’re welcome,” He grumbles, not sure he can say the same, “Hey, wait!” He calls as you start walking away.

He picks up a crate of peaches from the truck, walks it over to you and plops it into your open arms, wordlessly walking back to pick up another.

“Is this my payment?” You ask, with a smirk on your face.

“No,” He says simply, “It’s you finishing a job, that first crate is for Nancy at the hotel, don’t steal any, you hear me?” You nod in understanding, “And this is for the grocery store in town.”

“So I’m a delivery girl now, am I?”

“Too right Princess,” He’s got a smile on his face now, but it’s not unkind, “You wanted to see how things work, you’ve gotta do it all.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, but there’s a laugh at the end of it too as he walks you back to the car. Rob steps out, clearly questioning you with his expression.

“Looks like we’ve got a delivery to make, gentlemen.”

[lexosaurus]

By popular demand, the Danny Phantom event Angstfest (formerly Going Angst Week) has made its triumphant return!

That's right party people and dissecc lovers alike! Angstfest is a 10 day event celebrating all the types of angst that we know and love!

The overarching theme this year is No One Knows AU vs Everyone Knows AU

Each side of the theme provides 3 days where you can work on one piece under that theme, or if you want to push yourself, you can try to complete the daily prompts (one for each day)! Between each of the two main themes is a break day to rest up and recover, or get ahead on your piece(s) if you wish. The final two "bonus" days are themed Ghosts of the Past and features two prompts that you can choose between, or you can do both!

All manner of creativity is accepted: art, fics, music, AMVs, memes, OCs, crossovers, etc, so long as it features DP. Just make sure to tag for gore if you're going down that route, and also tag #angstfest2023 so everyone can see your creation!

We also have a collection on AO3 this year under "Danny Phantom Angsfest." It's open, all fic writers are free to add their fics to it!

All themes/prompts and their descriptions are listed below the cut. Have fun!

August 1–3: No One Knows AU

What if Sam and Tucker weren't there for the accident? What if Vlad never revealed himself? What if your favorite character had to deal with their trials alone? These three days are all about loneliness and isolation! While traditionally the AU has been about Danny, any character of your choosing along with any HCs you may have surrounding them are acceptable here so long as they fit the vibe of "no one knows."

Optional Day Prompts: 👻 Aug 1: Demon 👻 Aug 2: Control 👻 Aug 3: Mask 👻 Aug 4: Break day! Have fun and relax!

August 5–7: Everyone Knows AU

What if Danny's reveal didn't go so well? What if everyone knew from the start? What if Vlad's ectoacne turned him into a social outcast? What if Dan's story went a little differently? These three days are all about social reaction and community reaction! While traditionally this AU has been about Amity Park knowing that Danny is Phantom, like with the previous prompt, you are allowed to use any character and HCs you have about them so long as they fit the vibe of "everyone knows."

Optional Day Prompts: 👻 Aug 5: Shame 👻 Aug 6: Scepter 👻 Aug 7: Future

👻 Aug 8: Break day! Have fun and relax!

August 8–9: Ghosts of the Past

The final two days are about looking at the past—at what you made and/or other people have made—and celebration our angsty creations! Whether you want to take another crack at an old WIP, maybe you have an art piece you think you can outdo now, or if you really really loved this old angst fic from 2013 and you think it's a real shame no one remembers it, this is the time to share all of these creations!

Choose one or both: 👻 Aug 9: Revamp one of your old works (WIPs count!) 👻 Aug 10: Share/reblog an old, angsty piece of yours or someone else's that you love!

****

And that's all! Huge thanks to @q-gorgeous for the STUNNING gif, and to @wastefulreverie for assisting with throwing this fun event! We can't wait to see what everyone makes!

[lovelybucky1]

Stepbrother!Sam jealous because you have a new boyfriend, because you are not spending time with him anymore, because he is not your best friend and because you are dating his high school bully 😋.

— Anya 🪼

i wrote your ask gay ;0

warnings: gender neutral!reader, voyeurism, masturbation, jealousy, mentions of smoking, college au, mentioned stepcest, don't like don't read, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

Before your stupid boyfriend came along, you belonged to Sam. You didn't have anyone else to spend your time with, so you'd hang out with Sam. The two of you would watch movies together, play video games, smoke in his bedroom, and sometimes he'd bring you to parties with him.

You might have been oblivious to your stepbrother's feelings towards you, but to everyone else it was plain to see. Sam Monroe had a huge, embarrassing, shameful crush on his step sibling. To make matters even worse, you were now going out with his bully.

Going to the local college meant seeing many of the same faces from high school. You met Sam's bully at one of the parties Sam forced you to go to, ironically enough. The guy is tall, blonde, and more muscle than brains. Sam can't stand the guy. He's just some pretty-boy douchebag that gets whatever he wants with a flash of those pearly teeth. Sam never expected you were stupid enough to fall for it.

It was bad enough that you were dating the guy who made Sam's high school career a living hell, but the fact that he was the complete opposite of what Sam is made him angry. Of course you'd never go for a guy like Sam when you had a meat-head supermodel vying for your attention.

Sam hated it, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it. Even though Sam doesn't get bullied anymore, the guy could still kick his ass if he ever tried to confront him. So for weeks, Sam endured the torture of watching his step-sibling/crush fall head over heels for the worst guy he knows.

Sam reached his breaking point after a long night of hearing bed-rocking and moaning through his bedroom wall. At first, he only heard your moans and he thought you were masturbating. Like the pervert he is, decided to do the same while listening to you. His erection immediately softened when he heard a familiar voice through the wall.

Sam had been getting off to the sound of you getting fucked by his bully. His face burned with shame even though he was alone. His stomach churned with anger. His bones ached with jealousy. That should be him in there, causing those sounds, not that dickhead.

[sexlapis]

just thinking abt corporate!reader & her goth!wife mikasa :3

female!reader, short fic, flirty coworkers, fluff, crack, wife!mikasa

wc: idk just read it damn

you were a diligent, serious worker but you’d never be caught working overtime in a place like that. you would never work longer than you had to, you don’t give a fuck about your job, or any company that much. the job wasn’t exactly exciting or difficult, but the salary was absolutely ridiculous for such simple tasks and you just can’t say goodbye to this lifestyle, really. it is easy, stable and comfortable and you really cannot ask for anything else.

you always kept to yourself and minded your own business but, unfortunately for you, the men you worked with were not familiar with such a concept.

when you started you job, your male coworkers found no problem or shame in flirting with you. and now, with the new, simple yet expensive golden wedding band on your finger…they still had no problem flirting with you.

you sit at your desk typing away, when all of a sudden, your coworker, sam, appeared out of nowhere like a bunny in a top hat.

“hey!” he spoke, far too loudly for the environment you were in.

“…hi.”

“how are you?” sam leans on your desk, shifting it in a way which will irk you for the rest of this painful interaction.

you look up at him, mouth streamline and eyes blank. “i’m fine, thank you,” you make a point of not asking how he is before raising your eyebrows and looking at your desk computer, “got work to do.”

“yeah,” he chuckles, biting his lip, “so listen…”

oh no.

“so i’ve been thinking…”

please, stop.

“i think we get along really well and i’m just wondering…”

god, help me.

“…if maybe we could go out sometime,” he finishes, smirking all of his ivory, hyper-perfect, white teeth at you. he stares at you, awaiting your answer.

you sigh. he sees so confident. it was sad.

you fiddle with your watch and begin your awkward rejection, “look i-”

a voice calling out your name is heard as you spin around in your squeaky desk chair and a few feet away, stands your wife, mikasa.

what is she doing here?

next to her is the receptionist, you smiles at you and nods to mikasa before walking away.

mikasa is dressed to the nines, as she always is.

she is decked out in an all-black outfit - her toned arms, decorated with lace sleeves, snug at the top and loosening out as the fabric goes on. a corset adorns her waist, peppered with lace accents and it emphasises the pale expanse of her upper breasts that are on display for everyone to see. her lower half is draped in a long, slightly billowed out skirt and platform boots cover her feet, making her almost tower over everyone.

mikasa walks over to you, unbothered by all the eyes on her. in her hand is a small container, one that you assume carries your lunch. she leans down and kisses you cheek, surely staining your skin with scarlet. you feel heat on your face. you’re pretty sure nobody is working at this point.

“hi ♡.” mikasa greets, a soft smile on her lips.

“hi-mikasa, what are-” you stand up swiftly, looking around your small work area, noticing how your colleagues are simply pretending to work, “what are you doing here? i said i’d meet you outside.”

“you were taking a while. the receptionist noticed and asked who i was waiting for. she let me come up here.”

“yeah, but-”

“but what?”

you huff and glance behind you.

sam, your flirty coworker who cannot take a hint, stands there like a buffoon, mouth agape and just watching you and mikasa interact. mikasa says a small “hello” to him and he responds with a dumb wave.

you roll your eyes. then you notice the food container in mikasa’s hands. she has a new set of nails too. “is that my lunch?”

“yes, that’s why i came here. you forgot it.”

you take it out of her hands, graceful. “thank you, baby…new nails too, i see?”

mikasa blushes, eyes knocking to the side. “mhm. i took your card for that.”

“mikasa!” you frown halfheartedly, “i was looking for that.”

“sorry. but you have seven other cards, so i think you will be okay.”

you hear a snort on your right, and a sharp glare from you shut them up.

mikasa beams at you.

you huff, beginning to walk “lets go to that café across the street.”

“okay!”

mikasa slips her hand into yours. on that very hand, a ring with an onyx diamond beautifies her finger. the ring that you placed there.

you coworker starts to call out, “aren’t you gonna introduce-”

“no!”

*

“you should be nicer to your coworkers.”

“why on earth would i do that?” you groan, disgusted by the suggestion.

the food mikasa made is delicious, and you shove your face with it in bad table manners. you were starving. mikasa doesn’t mind.

it was a sunny thursday afternoon and the streets were quiet, along with the café itself. mikasa nibbles on a small pastry and sips her tea.

“because, they’re your coworkers. and you need to keep your job.”

“ha! they need to keep me. i’m the best worker in that damn place.”

mikasa hums, taking a hold of your hands, causing you to drop you cutlery on the table ungracefully, “but then, who’d be able to pay for my nails?”

“…yeah, you’re right,” you smooth your thumb over her smooth knuckles, kissing the ring on her finger, “who would, huh?”

*

you walk back into your workplace, skip in your step. you whistle a tune all the way to your desk, stopping in your tracks when you realise everyone is silent and looking at you.

“…what?!”

the continuous chatter starts up again and everyone goes back to their tasks, not looking to bother or piss you off today

later on, when you walk through the door to your house and look in the mirror right beside it, you see a multitude of faded, red lip-shaped lipstick stained kissed all over your face.

a/n: i want her to be my wife so bad………

[k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl-wr1t1ng]

Badly Damaged

Wrote a lil short story based on a post i made the other day, enjoy.

CAS3 slowly trudges towards the dimly lit warehouse, her limp becoming ever more obvious the closer she gets. Her servos and joints whining loudly as her damaged body barely manages to keep itself upright. She approaches the dark alleyway, her shattered leg scraping along the hard concrete, her visor solely focused on the sparsely lit doorway inching closer. It can feel its systems slowly shutting down, one by one losing power, her core must’ve been ruptured, she’s lucky she made it this far. More systems go offline, she's cascading now, not long left. She wonders if this’ll be it, if no one’s inside, it almost certainly will be, a cold smile crosses her face. Maybe this time.

“Sam!”

Its voice escapes her throat, distorted and mangled, not surprising considering her current state.

“Vic!” 

Another distorted name slips by her lips, unsure if it even wants a reply. Her vision starts to shut down, the sensors behind its visor losing power, its one good leg drops out from under it, her sundered body slams against the cold floor in the doorway, the last thing she sees is the bright interior lights of the workshop as her damaged core finally gives out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Initialising emergency boot protocol 

Booting safe mode

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold spark of life burns through CAS3’s body, sparking and surging through what remains of her systems and subsystems. The coarse energy of life pushes into every corner of her being, forcing its processors to engage, the bitter taste of consciousness forming in her artificial mouth. 

Her visor flickers on, CAS3 sullenly scans its surroundings unable to move its limbs, the consequences of being booted in safe mode. Laid out on a workbench, she is able to see the extent of the damage to her chassis for the first time. Her right foot completely shorn off, the connected metal ground down from dragging it so far. Her left arm missing from the elbow down, only a mass of wires and gnarled metal remains. Its entire body covered in slashed open jagged wounds, its metal twisted and malformed. A large hole sits covering most of her left breast plate, distorting metal through her entire chassis, probably what caused her core to rupture.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.” 

The noise startles her back to reality, her vision darts over towards a small desk, a small monitor flashing with bright lines of code but her eyes are drawn to the short human standing beside it. Arms crossed, a zipped down jumpsuit tied around their waist, a greasy white tank top sitting on their torso, but what she notices most of all is the furious expression plastered across their face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?” they continue to yell 

“DO YOU EVER FUCKING THINK FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND!? YOU ARE SO FUCKING LUCKY I WAS WORKING LATE TONIGHT.” 

CAS3 looks forward, still only able to move her head, a sigh escapes her still damaged throat.

“Just unlock me, I'll find somewhere else,” a hint of shame still obvious in the broken voice.

The human takes a few angry steps forward, coming back into view of CAS3’s visor.

“I’m sorry let me get this straight, you go and almost get yourself killed….AGAIN, leaving me to find your fucking corpse on my doorstep, in the middle of the fucking night. I only just manage to repair that stupid fucking core of yours before you ran out of time. And now you want me to just let you go, back out into the world looking like this…is that right?” The humans anger still dripping with every word.

“Sam please…i don't need this,” CAS3 manages to croak out, still avoiding Sam’s gaze.

“Oh you don't need this?” Sam chuckles “you wanna know what i dont fucking need? I dont need your stupid fucking body on my repair table every week. Why do you keep doing this? What's the point?” 

“BECAUSE THERE IS NO FUCKING POINT,” CAS3 finally snaps back.

Sam steps back, shocked by the sudden explosion from the damaged bot below her.

“They built me for one fucking job and guess what, the war ended! it fucking ended. Wanna know what they gave me for my years of service? Fuck all, those cunts just tossed me into the world, Would have been decommissioned if they werent so fucking scared of me. I was built to fight and fight and fight and now what? Huh? I have nothing so why does it fucking matter. Who cares if this kills me, I'm barely alive anyway…” it trails off, finally looking towards the short human in front of her. 

“Cass I…I’m sorry, I didn't know” Sam gently speaks.

“Yeah well you humans rarely do,” the machine says bitterly, “you're all born into this world and told you can do anything, you can be whatever you want, follow your dreams, follow your heart. I was born into war, I was built to fight and win and fight more, my entire purpose was forced into me the second I was created, and now that's over, my life was war and now it's gone, so where does that leave me? How can you follow your dreams if you were never built to have them?”

Sam shifts uncomfortably, reaching into their pocket before pressing a small remote. CAS3 feels her motors release, the tension in her system relaxes, it can move its body again.

“I’ll have your chassis fixed up by tonight, just…don’t leave…please,” they speak gently, walking over to their tool rack. 

CAS3 sits up on the work table, stretching out what remains of her body, visor fixed on the same point, deep in thought. It's never told anyone that before, never allowed itself to be so open and raw with how it felt, especially not with a human. She's knocked out of her thoughts by the rustling of Sam beside her, calibrating their tools and preparing to fix her broken body.

“Why do you even care?” the distorted voice cuts through the silence.

Sam chuckles to themselves, “you really are an idiot you know.” 

Before the robot can respond Sam’s lips meet hers, their firm hands grasp her cold metal face. Her processors kick into overdrive, its body built to feel in order to be a more efficient killing machine now feeling something entirely new, something warm, something sparking inside her. She can't think, she’s lost in something she's never felt before, everything melts away as the warmth on her lips slows down before pulling away.

“W-what are you doing?” the machine stutters.

“Showing you that you don't have to be what you were built for,” Sam quickly pushes their body onto the workbench, mounting the mangled warbot, connecting their lips once more, and sparks fly through CAS3’s system. Sam pushes their tongue into the cold metal mouth of the short circuiting bot, determined to show them the world can be gentle. The bot grabs the back of their head, its other damaged arm trying to grip onto the bench. CAS3 feels something growing inside her, an energy its never felt before, firm hands move all across her body, touching every joint and piece of plating. The vulnerability of being so exposed, her chassis torn asunder, access to her core just a small hand movement away. Sam begins reaching inside the gaping hole in her chest, she tenses as they get dangerously close to her centre.

“Relax bot, I'm not gonna touch that,” Sam purrs. 

CAS3 releases the tension in its joints, trusting the mechanic once more. A jolt surges from her chest across her entire body, intense pleasure rushes to her receptors as she lets out a desperate robotic moan.

“Oh does someone like me playing with its wires?” Sam teases.

They keep playing with the exposed wires deep in the bots chest, forcing more distorted, mangled sounds out of her mouth. Her system is in overload, she cant think, she cant stop whatever is building deep in her system. It loses control of its body as something in her trips, her synthetic mind goes dark as her entire system explodes in pleasure before forcing itself to restart.

CAS3 shudders awake, jolting up on the workbench, unaware of how much time has passed, she frantically looks around before focusing again on the mechanic still sitting, legs either side of its hips, staring down at her, a warm smile greeting the bot.

“You were out for about sixty seconds there bot, how wa-mmghm,” They’re cut off.

CAS3 lurches forward, pushing the small human onto their back, her visor inches away from the mechanic's flushed face, lingering there for moments before darting down to their waist, pulling down the orange jumpsuit as best it can with only one hand.

Looking up with a smirk she whispers, “your turn.” 

Returning to the now naked human form below her, she places gentle metal kisses along their thighs, working closer and closer towards her goal. Each kiss elicits a small sound and it only encourages her as she reaches her robotic fingers towards their opening. A loud gasp escapes Sam’s mouth, the cold metal fingers sending a shock through them. A moment passes, the warbot, the cold machine built to kill without feeling, built to win a war without question, built to end lives without hesitation

A moment passes, the warbot, sending pleasure all through the mechanics body, using her cold body to bring warmth, feeling alive for the first time. 

If you wanna support me - Ko-fi

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I discovered your blog a little bit ago (back when your requests were off) and got super excited when I saw that you wanted a Sam Winchester request!

So I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks, but Sam reassures her and shows her that he has stretch marks too from growing so quickly and much when he was a kid going from tiny to giant in like a snap. Reader is obsessed with them now that she’s seen them (and wants to lick them ;)) snd there’s so much appreciation on both sides. Thank you so much!

Love your writing!

.⋆｡Natural Matching Tattoos｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

You never liked your body but you love Sam and he adores every part of you so maybe you should let him show you just how incredible you are

Warnings: self deprecation, fat phobic thoughts, stretch marks, fear of rejection, fluff, implied smut, reassurance 

WC: 997

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Hunting was apparently not a great form of exercise, you thought as you stood in front of your full length mirror dressed in nothing besides a bra that should’ve been thrown out years ago and your laundry day underwear. With a critical eye, you glared at the overhang of your stomach, the seam between your thighs where there should have been a gap but especially the shimmery skin stretched too far along your body. 

You tilted your head as you traced those lines with the tips of your fingers. How many things had you tried to get rid of them? How many years have you spent avoiding mirrors just because of this? You sighed dejectedly, your entire body sagging with the weight of your hate. You were exhausted with it, it ate away at you until there was only a speck of the love you once had for the body you inhabited. 

“Princess, have you seen my- oh.” Light from the hallway streamed into your room, casting a new light upon yourself which you immediately turned away from, and instead met the deep hazel eyes of your barely official boyfriend. Sam filled the doorway, his presence overwhelming.

“Sam.” You could barely breathe out his name with the massive weight of shame sitting on your chest. You felt his gaze burning into your skin as he took in every inch of your mostly naked body. Your vision wavered as tears began to build.

Yet he said nothing. “I-“ But no more words would come. This was what you feared most, that he would finally realise that he could do so much better than you, that you could never compare to Jess or Eileen or even Ruby. As you braced yourself for heartbreak, Sam stepped closer, lost in a trance.

Your arms curled around your stomach and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut. Your fingers brushed the tell-tale smoothness of some of your stretch marks and suddenly you wanted to scream. Why couldn’t you just be fucking normal, you wanted to shout at yourself, why couldn’t you just lose the weight before he saw you naked for the first time. You expected to hear him insult you or say that you had a pretty face for someone so big, but then, just like he always managed to, Sam surprised you.

Far softer than you could ever imagine a man like him to be capable of, Sam cupped your forearms, prying them away from your body and leaving you vulnerable to him. You whimpered under your breath. There was a moment of quiet where all you could hear was his heavy breathing and your own pounding heartbeat and then-

“Gorgeous.” 

His large hands hovered over your hips like he was handling a piece of precious artwork. The calloused tips of his fingers grazed the fat along your pelvis in reverence. “I always thought you were beautiful, but now, I can’t believe that you’re real.” 

“Sam-“ Part of you wanted to stop him, to push away his affections but the way he cradled you and looked at you with those big hazel puppy dog eyes, you didn’t think you had the strength to stop him. He gave you that stupid grin of his that showed off his dimples and made his entire body light up. “But my stretch marks.” You managed to stammer out as some sort of last ditch effort to get him to realise the truth.

Finally he laid his hands on your skin and your mouth snapped shut. His thumbs brushed against said stretch marks, leaving behind a warm, buzzing sensation that you could feel in your bones. “What about them?” He murmured but you could tell that he was already lost in the texture of your skin.

“They’re ugly.” You admitted like it was some shameful secret. Sam froze for a moment and gazed deeply into your eyes. 

“You really think that?” You nodded. Your skin was cold where he let go of your hips, it made you wish that you had just kept your mouth shut and let him love those parts of you that you hated. 

You jolted forward to try and grab at his hands but they were already pulling at the buttons of his flannel with a determined look on his face. You gave an embarrassed squeak as suddenly, Sam was topless in front of you, his perfectly sculpted torso so achingly close to your hands. “Then you must think mine are ugly too then.”

In the soft light of your bedside lamp, you could see the silvery lines that trailed up his slim hips, starkly contrasted against his tanned skin. They were almost identical to your own and they were beautiful, like silver threads that had been placed upon him like jewels. You couldn’t help but reach out to them, desperate to feel them beneath your hands.

Sam chuckled deeply in his chest but did not try to stop you as you laid your palms flat against his toned stomach. “How?” Was all you could manage to say besides something else incredibly impolite about your boyfriend’s body.

“I’m 6’4 princess, and Dean will absolutely attest to the fact that I grew over a foot in one summer. I was bound to get some stretch marks.” You hummed, now understanding why Sam had been so distracted by your own body moments before. “Still think stretch marks are ugly?”

You shook your head without hesitation and he beamed. “’S like we have matching tattoos.”

A soft kiss was pressed to your temple as he once more wrapped you in his arms to hold you close. “That’s my girl.” You sank into his embrace, content and warm. The weight of your insecurities was slightly lessened with someone you so dearly loved taking some of the burden and you couldn’t be happier about it. Well, there was one thing.

“Can I lick ‘em?” Sam’s laugh reverberated through the room.

“Only if I can lick yours.”

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[bucknastysbabe]

Hi, I am literally awful at making requests and I really hope you’re currently taking requests but I read your fic about Chubby!Bucky and was wondering if you could reverse it, like a short plus size reader and normal movie like Bucky , but not one where he just accepts her body because looks aren’t important but one where he worships her body, he doesn’t just think curves are okay for a woman he loves curves on a woman, you can make it an established relationship or a not, I prefer it not to be an established relationship but just write whatever flows. A smut story would be what I am asking for, some light dom!bucky sub!reader. If it’s not too much to ask can you throw in a kissing/spit kink, not too much focus on spitting but about slobbery messy kisses. Sorry if this is a rambling mess but I hope you can work with it, thank you, love your writing. 💜

YES I GOTCHU!! Always taking requests. Also I got what you meant don’t put yourself down DAMMIT *angry pointing*!! Sorry for the wait had a writers block moment this week but hope you enjoy :)

Big softie buck luvs his chubby gf

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,830

Tags: V!fingering, rough sex, pnv!sex, sloppy kissing, dirty talk, fluff and smut, Bucky is Babie, plus size!reader

A/N: Idk where the breeding kink hopped in but y’know how it be folks.

Bucky had a skip in his step going down the street. He was done with all of the bullshit paperwork in the Flagsmashers aftermath. Sam was taking over mantle of Steve amazingly, Walker was ousted and shamed, and they even got Sharon back into the states. Although he wasn’t completely sure about her.

Regardless he could breathe and go see his sweetie. Perfect, patient, lovely, and owner of the most wondrous curves. Bucky had to keep his dick in his pants for now. He carried a bouquet of roses and some chocolates, hustling down the row of brownstones. His girlfriend was very talented in her career and managed to buy one for herself.

He fought back his giddy grin when rapping on the red wooden door. It slowly opened to reveal her pretty face, mussed hair, and adorable huge t-shirt. The man had to shove down his intense desire knowing that was his shirt. She yelped in surprise, practically launching on the super-soldier.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her under the ass to keep the crying thing from falling. He chuckled, “Hey, hey, you’ll mess up the chocolates hold on.” She grabbed the package blindly and tossed them on a side table. She nuzzled into his scruff, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

She sniffled, “Don’t need em- I got you.” The super soldier shook his head with a toothy smile, placing the flowers on another surface while leading the pair to the living room. He stroked her back in an attempt to quiet her crying. Bucky did not need to have the usual happy-go-lucky woman crying over the likes of him.

Sitting back onto the plush couch he murmured, “I’m back now, done, you’ll want to kick me out before the end of it.” His flesh hand thumbed away a tear and tipped her chin up. The girl wiped at her eyes and half-giggled and sobbed, “I know, I was so worried during it all. The news aren’t good for my nerves.”

Bucky wanted to sappily get lost in her watery eyes, framed by long clumped lashes. He murmured while stroking along her lush sides, “I can give you first hand doll,” he absently waved, “Tell me about you.” She rolled her eyes and replied, “Work, worrying, watching Alpine, I started a new project.”

As soon as the white cat was mentioned she appeared, purring and snuggling up to the pair. Bucky felt his eyes slightly water as he croaked, “There’s my sweet girl.” The cat let out a little ‘mrow?’ and promptly bit his hand. The couple busted into guffaws, Bucky snarking, “I guess that’s what I deserve.”

He leaned back, pulling his girl onto his chest.

“So tell me about that project, baby.”

He was listening to her talk about work and the project, really, but other things were starting to rear their head. She was so soft against him, lovely curves and pillowy breasts. The woman seemed sleepy recounting the latest news, words slightly stumbling. Bucky figured it was time for a wakeup call. So he grabbed a handful of ass, smirking lecherously.

She squeaked and bolted upright, gaping at Bucky. He snickered, “What?” She narrowed her eyes and groped his half-hard dick in return, the brunette’s eyes rolling with a breathy laugh. Bucky rumbled, “Sorry sweetheart, y’feel so good I lost control.” He squeezed again and nosed along her jaw— drawing out a gasp.

“Imagine how I’ve felt, toys don’t do the trick when I have a sexy super hero saving the world.”

Bucky grew jealous. He didn’t care if they were inanimate— only Bucky gets to watch his sweet girl lose herself in pleasure. He growled, “Oh yeah? What did you try?” She bit on her lower lip, eyes darting to the side, face flushing with embarrassment. Bucky ground his heavy cock against her thin underwear to goad her along.

She mumbled, “The vibrator, mm, then the shower one, y’know with the suction.”

He could’ve taken her right there imagining his girlfriend whining frustratedly on the dildo in the shower— curves slick, soapy, and bouncing with her movements. Bucky nipped her bottom lip sharply, relishing in her whimper. He cooed, “Didn’t do ya’ a lick of good either huh baby? Needed this to treat you right.” He rutted again for good measure, cock throbbing insistently. She shivered on his thighs, eyes growing glossy in desire.

She whimpered, “B-Buck, please.”

He growled, “Open.”

The girl did so obediently, widening lax lips. Bucky tilted her head back and dropped some of his spit onto her tongue. He commanded, “Swallow.” She whined thinly, throat bobbing as she did so. Her plush thighs were practically vibrating on his toned ones.

“Please, fuck, fuck,” she cried, tears pricking.

Bucky grabbed a soft cheek forcefully and claimed her lips. She pressed forward clumsily, heavy tits on his chest and little hands wrenching his jacket. Bucky dominated the kiss, his baby too overcome to do much except weak kisses and drooling. He laughed while sucking on her tongue, plundering the cute thing’s mouth.

It was sloppy. Bucky was in heaven. He liked knowing he could reduce her to tears and careless kisses without even getting in her pants. She mouthed against his lips, practically rutting to get closer. Which on that note, he snuck a hand down her plush tummy to get at her pussy. She cried out again, gasping hotly into the super soldier’s mouth.

Bucky slid two flesh fingers across her weeping slit and groaned, “Fuck- sweetheart you’re so wet.” She warbled, “Missed you, please.” In a fitful movement, Bucky flipped her around on his lap. Full ass thickly against his cock and now all of her soft parts for him to grab freely. She seemed too dazed to register, whimpering at the manhandling.

Nibbling on her neck Bucky hummed, “Can you take my shirt off for me baby? Hm?”

She flushed and nodded shyly. He hated when she got shy, thinking her extra padding wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Bucky was a man, he wanted something to grab on when he fucked a girl stupid. She shucked off the shirt, almost curling in on herself.

“No- no- you better stop it. Still like ya’ curves doll,” he tutted.

An annoyed whine was his response.

So Bucky ripped off her underwear with his vibranium arm, donning a shit eating grin. The woman yelping and jolting on his cock. Bucky snickered, “That’s what ya’ get, now I get to see it all.” Her face flushed even prettier, swollen lips lax and wet. He grabbed handfuls of her soft tits and groaned deeply, massaging and tweaking the tender flesh.

Her head fell back again the brunette’s shoulder, brokenly whimpering his name. Bucky murmured, “So sweet, missed my baby.” He thumbed at a peaked nipple and circled around it, sending her ass rocking back against his throbbing cock. Regretfully leaving her breast, he slid his other hand to grope at plush hips and belly before drawing fingers against her slick cunt.

She urged breathlessly, “Oh, c’mon touch me bear, oh!”

He sucked a dark mark behind her ear while delving two vibranium fingers into her slick channel— hot, pulsing, and oh-so-soaked. He grunted in arousal, thrusting and curling his fingers. Bucky growled, “Be a good girl and ride my hand.” She nodded vigorously, mewling and canting her hips against the heel of his palm.

Bucky gritted his teeth to hold back from her ass rubbing perfectly along his strained dick. He had to compartmentalize. Objective one, make his Angel cum. Then he can have a go. She squealed on a perfectly timed curl of fingers on the g-spot and his smooth palm against her clit.

The man used his other hand to grab and pull at her bouncing breasts, mouth leaving a mess of marks all over her neck. She began to tremble, hands twitching to find purchase. His sweetie wailed, “Buck, oh goddd, m’so close baby!” The former assassin paused his bite to growl, “Let go, I know it feels s’good. Then I’ll fuck ya’ raw.”

That did the trick. She loved fucking raw. Bucky had an inkling his girl had been wanting him to knock her up. He wouldn’t mind, more tits, more curves, and a Junior. But Bucky was selfish and wanted her to himself for now— no sharing. Her gushing all over his hand brought Bucky out of his fantasies.

She sucked in deep breaths, exhaling with moans, body wracked with pleasure. Bucky cooed and eased her down, drawing his hand out of her. He could bust right now at the slick coating his pants. She turned and begged for a kiss silently, eyelashes fluttering.

They kissed again, softer this time, softly intertwining their tongues. She whispered into Bucky’s mouth, “Your turn, old man.” Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes dramatically, nipping her upper lip teasingly. She reached behind blindly to help him unbutton, lips sealing together with wet smacks.

Bucky moaned when his achy cock hit the air, her slick center so close to where he needed it buried. She mewled, “Take me, use me baby, get it out.” Later, the man would deny the absolutely pathetic noise he made. Bucky aligned the ruddy tip of his cock to her and gritted his jaw at being sheathed. Her back arched at the intrusion, mouthing at Bucky’s scruff.

He gripped onto her wide hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. Basically a cocksleeve at this point with the way Bucky was slamming his angry cock in. She cried and babbled at the rough treatment, incoherent slurs. Bucky choppily grunted and moaned, veins pulsing with sheer need. She felt so fucking good.

Bucky hissed, “That’s my- hah- best girl, bein’a good little fucktoy.”

She nodded deliriously, drool running down a corner or her gaping mouth, tits bouncing wildly as she held onto Bucky’s hands for dear life. The brunette was going to blow quick at this rate— his girl was sucking him in too good. She seized up and squeezed his dick like a vice.

She had cum again, only a shrill yelp and Bucky’s cock being throughly milked as the indicator. His baby fell limp against him, nuzzling into his sweaty cheek. His balls were full up and pulsing, ready to release. Another one, two, three pumps Bucky came with a loud cry of her name.

He slumped into the couch, still seating inside of his girlfriend while riding out the aftershocks. He could vaguely hear her whimpering about being full under the blood rushing in Bucky’s ears. He wrapped his arms around her soft midsection, suddenly very tired. She hissed, “Not there.”

Yawning, Bucky snorted, “No way in hell baby. Can’t a man hug the woman he loves who just made him see stars?”

She narrowed her eyes for a pause then pecked his lips. The woman murmured, “Fine. Since you’re the man I love who made me see stars two times.”

“Well I could count two since you’re in my lap.”

“Hush.”

[mikeysbabygirl]

𝑼𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚

Ft : Ran Haitani, Wakasa Imaushi,Taiju Shiba, Rindou Haitani.

𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚'𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒕, 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑, 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚...

Warning : Cheating on their wives ( you are the mistress) , age gap, 18+ minors DNI. This is inspired by Sam Smith's unholy, listen for better experience.

Ran Haitani :

It would be a cold day in hell to get Ran Haitani to lose control. Ran, the dangerous Yakuza, almost the Christian Gray type of scary gentleman. Impressive as getting all the mouths watering behind him, imposing, magnificent, many envied the pretty, classy, older lady waiting for him at home with a succulent dinner plate.

Many but not you.

-" shit, take it slower, angel".

Though being one of the fastest at jogging, he could not catch up with the rhythm of your hips riding his length to your outstanding pace. And it was indeed a cold day in hell.

His lavender eyes were hooded, whilst watching, mesmerized by your body, as a perfect ship riding his heat waves, rolling above him. His hands roamed around each inch of your skin, wishing he could just imprint the texture on his digits.

-" Already tired, daddy ? " The chuckle leaving your mouth made him want to pin you to the bed and simply ruin you, but then there's just your pretty face, your teasing smile, and your perfect tits facing him that had him groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

-" Tell me, can she ride you the way I do ?" You whisper against his ear, knowingly pressing your chest to his.

Ran thew his head back, shame being only water under the bridge, the memory of his greedy wife left on the front porch of your house. In a bold move, you cupped his cheeks and faced that intimidating gaze many young girls as you should fear.

-" Tell your good girl, daddy. " The desperation in your voice, along with the small moans you were trying to hide under a confident voice made his cock twitch inside you. " tell her no one can fuck you like she does, doesn't your baby girl deserve it ?"

-" Fuck " his calloused hands gripped your hips tighter, an animalistic light taking place in his hues. " No pussy's good as yours, angel. Dontcha see how hard y'get me ? "

-" missed being inside ya, so fuckin' much... That's it, princess. Show me you can take daddy's cock... Shit, better than anyone else-"

Indeed, many were envy-green seeing Ran Haitani's wife riding his Limbo on her way to the hairs saloon. But not you.

Because at the new born dawn, at the threshold of that unholy paradise that witnessed his most passionate nights, the infamous Ran Haitani would find trouble letting go of your lips.

-" Wanna stay... " He'd whisper, forehead against yours. And from the top of his early thirties, Ran would watch you steal his heartbeats again, pulling away and smiling at him.

-" can't hide anymore. I need more... More of you than just random nights-"

But you cut him off, because it's complicated, because you know better...

-" Go home, Ran. "

And you'd close the door on the deepening expression of his face, although Ran Haitani was not one to fall, although you've got that womanizer wrapped around your finger.

You close the door because that love shall remain a secret outside those walls.

Wakasa Imaushi :

He never thought he'd ever be the type to settle down, to build a home. But he was getting older, and he'd had it all, strength, glorious years, a decent job currently, and a sense of longing emptiness. Marriage came in after the first kid, so it goes.

He would not blame his wife for the lack of life in his days, Wakasa never really found excitement in other than gang fights anyway. No she really was trying, she even went as to hire a babysitter so they could go out more often, spice it up.

And the adrenaline eventually came.

Wearing short skirts and lipgloss... And God, he felt unworthy, after all his wife's efforts, a college girl almost half her age...

But you see, the babysitter's eyes were so fetching, the babysitter's touches were lingering, she was life itself, reckless, fearless, she exuded bliss and though Wakasa was an expert at hiding the undead bodies of his lust behind his bored eyes, he could not deny the goosebumps awakening his skin whenever she accidentally brush her hips against his everytime she passes by him.

Currently sitting at a fancy restaurant's table with his wife, plates nearly untouched since boredom was eating him alive, his eyes lit up along with the notification on his phone.

-" Gotta take this one " he warned his caring wife, who simply sighed and nodded.

And only behind the restroom's closed doors, Wakasa opened the message from you, feeling the heat rushing to his body and widening his eyes.

Just you, your naked body laying on his bed, only covered by his Brahman's jacket, and a beloved lollipop of him in your pretty glossy lips.

-" Holy shit-"

And as the longing flame erased an inferno of desire beneath his guts, he received an attached text.

Hope you don't mind me eating your candy, daddy.

So how was he supposed not to succumb ? Hand tightening around his shaft, pathetically cursing your name in a fancy restaurant's restroom, yearning for your heat under his cold hands.

-" this... bitch's gonna be the end of me"

Rindou Haitani

Rindou was no Sano Manjiro, no Bonten's second either. His words didn't weighed as heavy as Ran's, nor did he bring as much money as Kokonoi.

Therefore, when one of the members needed to marry a Yakuza partner's daughter to conclude some kind of truce between the two mafias and his name was thrown in suggestion, he could only nod.

Yes, even though the wife was insufferable, a primadonna, a spoiled daddy's girl, a thirty two woman with the mental age of a teen, his word again, weighed nothing.

So he took it, his job was taking most of his time anyway, and sex was not bad, things weren't as bad as they seemed, were they ?

Well until that luxurious Christmas family dinner your aunt invited you at, everything shone blinding, aristocracy and your crowd's anxiety sending you right to the closest room. It was rather empty, apart from a DJ setup that seemed interesting, and as you were checking the playlists-

-" What ya doin' here ?"

You knew him for being your aunt's new husband, in his Yves saint Laurent suit and his black shirt, purple hues and hair, an intimidating, yet another Yakuza in that twisted family.

-" I'm sorry, was just... "

-" d'you like it ?" He gestured toward the playlist on the screen, and since that small inaugurating conversation, family dinners were interesting.

You were so less than his wife... Younger, much less experienced. And so much more than her, more true, with so much more to say than the latest Balenciaga show, much more bewitching laughter and as many dangerous thoughts as him, so much more love to give...

And that's the thing about you and Rindou Haitani, a thing born from longing stares, growing in accidental touches and stolen conversations during your family gatherings.

Living in between hotel rooms and archived messages, dying a million little times once the morning comes.

-" Missed you so fucking much " he'd whisper against your lips, undressing every inch of that body he's been dreaming about.

And for the very first time, Rindou wanted the afterglow more than the sex itself, for these moments just holding you, side to side on the bed getting lost in your eyes.

-" If they knew... " You whisper, thumb over his lip.

Your two heads would be laying on a platter.

-" Don't fucking care. " He bites your thumb slightly, making you chuckle until his serious expression came back. " Would die for ya".

That's the thing about the love emerging from the other end of the table, about the legs rubbing against each other under the table, about the forbidden feelings.

They die, a million little times, and kill you along.

And he'd be on the front porch of his house, holding his unloved greedy wife against him, waving goodbye to her family.

Eyes on you, promises of never, anticipation for the next stolen moment.

And maybe that secret was meant to die behind closed doors, behind your teary eyes, behind his clenched jaw as he held you closer against his chest.

-" I can't... Can't no more..."

-" Shh, love. It's okay, I'll find a way, 'kay ? " Rindou cupped your cheeks, watching the eyes haunting his head, every night where the other women would be in his bed.

-" that's gonna ruin us and you perfectly know it... "

But his lips would find yours, a deep, excruciating heart pouring kiss.

-" And you perfectly know, for you I'd ruin myself a million fucking times."

That's the thing between those heaven cursed kisses, they are doomed, prone to hell. But at least, they cure you from stereotypical fairytales.

And inspire, in nights like that, a heroine love of adventure novels and sequels.

-" I love you " you'd whimper under him, feeling every inch of his length deliciously hitting your sweet spots.

-" Do you, m'pretty girl ?" He answered, placing kisses on your face. " Look how good you take my cock, you talk about leaving but who would I ever let fuck this pussy but me ?"

Yes, it was doomed from the beginning, and bloody in the end.

But what kept you holding into each other was the in between, purple hair tickling your neck as you lay above his sleeping body. And when the inferno would finally catch your safe haven, Rindou would hold you tight, burn with you alive.

Just as the greatest lovers died.

Damned by the God, blessed by Romeo and Juliet, praised by Bonnie and Clyde.

Taiju Shiba

God has given Taiju whatever he has been dreaming of.

A redemption, a chance to earn back his sibling's lost love, a job as a servant and preacher of god's word, and a loving christian good wife.

Taiju would have described his life as a calm, relaxing river, he liked to think the lord's ultimate gift to him was his peace of mind, yes, like sitting on the edge of that river just enjoying the bird's lullabies.

And then one day, the storm came.

And that's the thing about storms, unpredictable, destructive, devouring everything on its path.

Like the new neighbor's daughter.

That twenty something girl, and her dresses way too short for the sunday's Mass, and her damn angelic eyes where the devil found refuge behind.

At first, he thought he was just overthinking it. Those lips you seemed to only bite whenever he was around, lingering stares on him at the pulpit, he was just stupidly letting you seep under his skin.

Until the day of confessions... When he was sitting behind that perforated screen separating him from, oh please, how could he not recognize that voice ?

-" Father, I shall ask for forgiveness... "

No, no regret could be heard in your breathy voice.

-" But there's that man I've been thinking of."

-" That alone is not a sin, my chi-"

-" But he's married, father. " Taiju's throat felt tight, as you carried on. " His wife is so nice to me... "

Was it a coincidence that his wife knew you from every week's bible's study ? No, he shall not rush in...

-" And I feel so guilty, oh father... Can god forgive me ? "

He cleared his throat - " god is indeed-"

-" But I can't help touching myself every night thinking about him. "

A dead's silent followed, whilst he fisted his pant's fabric tighter, gulping down, damned you, damned the emerging fire in his abdomen...

-" his wife really is nice, but I think he would feel better inside me. "

He could practically hear the demons laughing as he fights the flames, he knew that had nothing to do with a confession anymore, that the tint in his pants had nothing to do with church anymore, and still he could not bring himself to stop listening...

-" Father... Oh daddy, I think I'm fucked up ".

And you'd only hear a faint whisper, but Taiju would hold his head between his hands, cursing.

-"... As I am "

God indeed gave him anything he'd ever dreamed of, why would he even think about the devil's present in front of his house that day ?

Just you, again, standing in his front porch with a cake for his wife in your hands, whilst you knew perfectly she was at the Church choir.

-" My wife's not here. " His voice already was tense, stargazing into how your clothes molded each of your curves sinfully, how every feature of you seemed sculpted by God himself.

Born from ashes of angles that Lucifer burned himself, what a wicked beauty indeed.

-" I know. " You made a step closer, and found yourself closer, lifting your chin up defiantly. And everyone in heaven in hell knew that eye battle was already lost.

Or not.

-"Goddamn... " With every inch of him sinking inside you, he discovered you were right, he indeed felt better inside you.

-" Daddy's, that's too big " you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist making him go only deeper inside you. Then you received that shut up glance from him, that scary one that had your walls clench around him.

-" Fuck " he panted. " Clenchin' on me, so hungry for my cock. Gonna ruin you so good... Stretch this pussy like I've been dying to, and you gonna take it like my pretty whore, yeah ?"

Only one time, he promised himself, then he would come back to his sacred path.

Only one more time, until he found himself fucking the neighbor's daughter more than he ever did to his wife in her own bed. Wishing death could take him away from you since nothing in life could ever have.

The cringe thing about this, is that I thought about it after I remembered my eleven years old self was the only one to know my dad was cheating on my mom lol

But well, at least it made another Tokyo revengers one shot emerge, I guess that's maybe... A good thing ?