#but there was no way in hell i was gonna let sam wash all those by himself. that wouldve been so cruel

[tealfruit]

it's not actually difficult to get me to work hard, or maybe not hard but generally well at least, all you have to do is be a decent person who does their own job and treat me and others with respect and I will be ride or die for you

[abarbaricyalp]

If you can combo 5,6, 30 intimacy for Sam and Bucky... Thank you

5: holding hands, kissing the back of it 6: kissing the tip of their nose 30: being protective Not gonna lie, I had difficulty imagining them being in a situation where they'd be kissing each other's hands and noses while also needing to be protective 😅 I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but it would not leave my mind.

All things considered, a cave behind a waterfall was pretty damn romantic. Bucky had found the cave. The dinosaurs they were hiding from, were not his fault. He should get all the points for the romanticism and lose nothing for the dinosaurs.

"Let me see your hand," he said, scooting closer to where Sam was washing his hand off in the waterfall. They should stay away from it. Who knew what kind of vision dinosaurs had. Sure, he'd been obsessed with them as kids, but he was pretty sure dinosaurs were one of those things that books in the 20s had been wrong about.

Sam held out his hand without complaint, which was a small miracle. "I cut it while we were climbing," he explained. He sucked in a sharp breath as Bucky put his thumbs on either side of the gash in his palm. "It's pretty deep."

Bucky nodded in agreement. For the first time in this whole forsaken night, the fact that they weren't in battle gear was actually helpful. He tore off the hem of his shirt and tied it around the middle of Sam's hand. It was not remotely sterile, but he couldn't really do anything about that. This would at least keep him from bleeding so badly and maybe keep dirt from getting in easily.

Sam stared at his hand, cupped gently in both of Bucky's and then let out a short laugh. "Oh my God, we look like a stupid action movie."

Bucky thought they looked like stupid action movies pretty regularly, but he figured Sam meant an action adventure movie. One of those ones with jungles and cargo crates and giant monsters, ancient runes and lost cities. Impossible feats of strength, like jumping over a ratty bridge or climbing up the side of a ship in the middle of a storm or hanging out of the blown out window of a two-seater plane. Probably based on a video game or some other existing IP.

"Those don't usually start in the middle of dinner at a local pasta place," Bucky pointed out. "We didn't even get our second glass of wine."

"It was good wine. Congrats on recognizing that. I'll make you a cultured man in no time." Sam started to pull his hand back, started to make to get to his feet.

Bucky curled his fingers around Sam's, up high, away from the cut. Sam settled back on the rocky ground with a raised eyebrow. "We can't wait around for someone to throw another temporal displacement bomb at us, Buck," he pointed out. "We've gotta figure out a way out of here."

"I know," Bucky accepted, though he kind of didn't think it'd be that easy. Without any reinforcements, without any gear of their own, what the hell were they going to do? Use their cells to call for help? He doubted that even the Kimoyo beads could traverse millions of years. And no one knew where they were, or were expecting them some other place. They wouldn't be missed until something else exploded or they missed the next call-out. It had been a long time since Bucky had felt helpless--he could force his body to extremes unheard of to survive, to protect Sam--but being chased by a dinosaur he couldn't name through forest growth so dense and thick and large the sun didn't reach the ground and then being forced to climb a cliff face so new every rock was rough and unpolished had just about wrung out the hope from him.

"I just..." He hesitated for a second, then brought Sam's hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss over the bandage on his palm, then turned Sam's hand over to kiss his scrapped up knuckles. "Just wanna make sure you're okay before we get back to adventuring."

Sam's face softened. He put his other hand to Bucky's cheek, thumb brushing over the crooked prop of it midway down where he'd been hit by a falling rock earlier. "I'm okay, Buck. Eventually, we'll have to add lizards to our list."

"What list?" Bucky asked, shaken from his deepening, pooling panic. Back to the world of a beautiful waterfall and dappled sunlight just for a second.

"Androids, aliens, and wizards."

The force with which Bucky rolled his eyes was enough to skyrocket the blooming headache snaking through his brain. "You can't say wizards and lizards in the same stupid catchphrase."

"Sure I can," Sam scoffed. "We're fighting morons who call themselves the Serpent Society. I think we need to add lizards."

"Just accept that you and I do not fight wizards that often," Bucky insisted.

"We fight wizards plenty."

"When, Sam? When do we ever fight wizards?"

"Loki," Sam said.

"Loki is a god. Apparently. And neither us ever fought him."

Sam reached over then, hands on either side of Bucky's face, and realigned his nose with an audible crack of cartilage snapping back into place.

Bucky had been led to believe by countless sci-fi books and his favorite modern movie that dinosaurs hunted by sound because their eyesight was bad. This was the only reason he did not howl with indignant pain and anger. He smacked his hands up against his own face--which did not make anything feel better--and glared at Sam--the effect of which was lessened by the tears that had naturally sprung to his eyes.

"Asshole," he ground out. "I told you it would set itself. The serum always puts things back where they belong."

"I couldn't stand looking at it anymore," Sam defended. "And it was making your voice sound weird. Move your hands." He batted Bucky's hands away and examined the line of his nose, then the full effect of his face. "Right as rain. Stop being a baby." He leaned forward and kissed either side of Bucky's nose, then the bruised bridge of it, then brushed the tip of his nose against Bucky's in apology.

Fine, that was enough to sate Bucky. He brushed his nose against Sam's again before leaning back against the cave wall. "How are we gonna get out of this one, Sam?" he asked.

Sam adjusted to sit beside him, grimacing as rough rock bit into his shoulders and back. "I don't know. Do you think the temporal imbalance will still be where we came in at? It disrupts the fabric of time and reality, right?"

"I don't think anything at all about this shit. I just call Strange and tune him out when he gets bitchy."

"So, all the time," Sam surmised with a tired, but affectionate, grin.

"Yeah, kind of," Bucky admitted. He dropped his arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him closer. "Do you know anything about dinosaurs?"

"Not really," Sam admitted himself. "I missed both boys' dinosaur phases."

"Do you think they're, like, diurnal?" Bucky ventured.

"No idea. There had to have been some nocturnal ones, right?"

"Yeah, but probably not the big ones."

Sam's eyebrows rose in thought. "They're all big, but I guess that kind of makes sense. So, what did you have on you for our date night?"

Bucky looked at Sam with a little bit of an abashed look. "Don't make it sound like I wore a tac belt," he muttered. "I just have a few knives. Didn't even have a gun in my jacket. Wherever that is now. I don't think a handful of combat knives are going to help us out here."

Sam had retrieved his own knife and flipped it around in his fingers. Each time the sharp side passed over the pads, it made an low scratching sound. Sam didn't need Bucky to tell him to take care of his shit and clearly he did it well. It still wasn't going to help.

"The only thing we can try is looking for that temporal weakness," Sam decided. "And the longer we wait, the more likely it is to close."

"I'm gonna tell Torres you had no faith in his ability to find us," Bucky threatened emptily.

"I don't think he'd blame me," Sam assured. He stood, then offered his hand down to Bucky to haul him up. "Hopefully we'll be able to tell when something big is coming at us. We didn't recognize the sound last time because we weren't prepared. Now we know what we're up against."

Bucky nodded. "Stay close to me, alright? Vibranium is still stronger than dinosaur teeth."

"Your arm is the size of their toothpicks, Buck," Sam pointed out, but he let Bucky take the lead.

Bucky half expected something to be waiting for them as they came through the water. They had to get into it to get back to the cliff face and all he did was hope there was nothing flesh eating in the water. Large or otherwise.

But there was nothing waiting for them and nothing eating them. A win all around.

The water helped wash away some of the grime and blood though, which was nice. Bucky had no idea if dinosaurs had acute olfactory systems, but he imagined smelling like the landscape and not unknown human should help. Besides, he thought better when he wasn't disgusting.

The climb down was a different kind of difficult from the climb up. Gravity was useful, but neither of them could see what they were doing and Sam kept managing to put his foot down on Bucky's fingers.

"I'm usually flying," Sam pointed out in a hiss while Bucky pulled out some ancient foul language on him. "I don't have to climb."

Impossibly, they managed to get to the ground without dying. The landscape they'd been dropped into was wetter and greener than Bucky had been expecting. There was foliage and trees and the cliffs provided run off that snaked around in thin streams. It had been a mad dash earlier to find shelter, so Bucky hadn't been able to examine their current prison. He wasn't sure what the safest route-of-action would be.

Sam kept looking up at the trees, but he evidently wasn't finding what he was looking for because he kept walking with a grunt.

"I don't think we should risk eating anything yet," Bucky called over to him, jogging a little to catch up. "That should really be a last ditch effort. Like...you should eat me before you eat something you find here."

Sam's nose scrunched in abject disgust. "I'm not eating you. I'm not looking for food," he added. "I'm looking for birds."

"Why?" Bucky asked. "I don't think birds existed back here. They're all, like, pterodactyls."

"Pterodactyls aren't the closest relatives to birds," Sam corrected. "I mean, like, birds are the closest living relative to pterodactyls, but not the other way around."

"Why are you looking for birds?" Bucky redirected. Because he kind of didn't care about living relatives when they were stuck with the old version.

"Because I--" Sam stopped suddenly, just on the other side of an opening in the tree line. "Buck," he warned so quietly Bucky almost couldn't hear him. Bucky pushed away the safety bar arm that had gone out in front of him so he could stand by Sam.

In the clearing, there was a whole entire T-fucking-rex.

There were lots of times Bucky's thinking brain shut down in favor of his fighting brain. Back in the war, he'd always felt like something else took over his body and moved it around like the worlds most skilled marionette. Since breaking Hydra's conditioning, he'd felt the Soldier settle into his skin during difficult fights.

Coming face to face with a real fucking T-rex, huddled like the world's largest chicken over a nest, had about every dissociative disorder filling Bucky's bones and muscle and soul and hollow spots. He put himself in front of Sam immediately, pushing Sam back so that he'd have a head start on the running.

The dinosaur was tense, but hadn't stood. Bucky had a cat. He knew that look. He knew that not standing didn't mean anything for a predator with power. It was watching them intently. Buck felt like he couldn't move.

"Sam, run," he whispered, pushing at Sam's hip again. "I'll distract it. You need to get back to the cliff."

"Shut up," Sam whispered back. "Just...just let me think. Give me a second."

The T-rex crouched. Terror punched through Bucky like a real object. He almost got sick with it. "Sam, please," he begged. "Get out of here."

"Hey," Sam said. Loudly. Bucky jumped and looked at him with wild desperation. "We're not here to hurt you or those eggs," he said. "We didn't mean to walk this way."

The T-rex cocked its huge head. It blinked, the way lizards did, which was uncanny. And then, for some reason, it settled back down.

"What the fuck is happening?" Bucky whispered.

"I'm saving your life," Sam answered. To the T-rex, he added, "Are there others around? We could use some help."

The T-rex bellowed. It wasn't like in Jurassic Park. It was...deeper. Fuller. Not so metal-on-metal reverb screeching. It was still damn terrifying and Bucky yelped a little. "What the fuck, Sam?" he hissed.

"T-rex is one of the closest relatives to birds. I can talk to birds, ergo I can talk to dinosaurs," Sam explained like that made any sense.

"What the hell do you mean you can talk to birds? Did it just call another T-rex over here?"

"Actually, she called the other one to some other spot. She wouldn't want it near her nest. We have to go meet it."

"Like hell," Bucky objected.

"Do you want to make this trek on foot again? How did that turn out for us last time?"

"What do you mean you can talk to birds?" Bucky repeated.

"Thank you very much," Sam said to the dinosaur. "And sorry again." He ducked back into the tree line and pulled Bucky with him. "I'll explain later. Right now I need to focus. It's not the same as with birds. I'm having to think a lot more here."

"Did you drink the water? Are you having hallucinations? Hell, am I?"

Sam pinned an unimpressed look on him. "Let's just get going before she changes her mind," he said blandly.

Not for the first time that afternoon, Bucky wondered what the hell his life was.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

hello lovely! I see you are thinking about doing little drabbles?! 👀 how about #4 cuddling on the couch with Ari? 🥺

See look a couch! hehe

Hope you are doing good today! 💜

@maskedmistress87 so I have had this forever and I don't even know anymore what the prompt list was. BUT HERE YOU GO! thank you for being so awesome. Much love babes.

You bustled around the tight hotel office, talking to yourself out loud about all the things you NEEDED to do before the next round of hotel guests were dropped on your doorsteps.

"Remark the keys." You jotted it down on your pad of paper. "Get that linen in the wash for the next guests." Another note added to your massive list. "Convince Ari to add another diving day."

"Convince Ari what?" Ari asked as he collapsed on the dated couch, long legs stretching out for a second before bending back in place. You paused what you were doing, admiring the subtle movement from him trying to get comfy. Even filthy as he was right now having spent the last few hours fixing some maintenance issues on the old broken-down hotel, you still couldn't stop the way you bit your lip and turned on your charm.

"Another day of diving Levinson." You set aside your notes to approach him. Ari spread his thighs wide for you to step into his space, his hands running up the back of your thighs but his expression was a hell no was that gonna happen.

"I already do three out of the five trips a week we offer." He scowled while you moved to ease into his lap, straddling him.

"Yeah, and everyone wants you to do it." Your fingers push through the sweaty strands of his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "Sammy is too grumpy to do it."

"He chooses to be that way on purpose." Ari practically growled, his best friend was not known for going with the flow all the time. His protests that he was a doctor, not a host a typical argument they have heard. "Maybe you should make him do another one instead of me, tell him it's what he gets for being a pain in the ass."

You let yourself lean forward as his hands grasp your cheeks, squeezing your short covered bottom while pulling you in closer. You loved the feeling of his fit body under your softer one. You let your hand fall to his chest, rubbing the expanse of it while tilting your head to place nice soft kisses on his neck while he grumbled about Sam.

Sometimes those two were more alike than they realized.

"How about this?" You rubbed your cheek against his beard while squeezing your thighs around his waist a bit more, shifting yourself to cuddle against him. "You do this for me and I will give Sammy the extra laundry duties."

That made Ari laugh, his head tilting back and a devious grin forming on his face. "You Baby are ruthless."

"Mmmhm." You giggled as you wiggled your brows suggestively at Ari. "There was a reason you insisted I come to run this hotel for you."

"Hmmm, that's just part of it." Ari swept you to the couch cushions on your back, his very solid body pressing down on you, pinning you underneath him while his hands roamed all over, making you laugh while you grabbed at the back of his neck to drag you down to your mouth.

[grimmylover7]

Tag: 5 Songs: 3 Outfits

The lovely @skoll-sun-eater tagged me in this and it was way more difficult than I expected it to be!!??!

I'm not even sure who to tag so i'm just gonna throw some random @'s all over the place and if you see yourself pop up, and you've already done it, just tag me on that post. I'm an idiot XD

@duskvivie @thehautecouturewhore @capriskunk @imgnnafurgf

Rules: Post 5 songs associated with your OC(s), followed by 3 outfits they would wear.

First up:

Eden "Rook" Davis:

"Can't Tame Her" by Zara Larsson

"And you can't tie her down When the night comes around Said she gonna party all night (all night) And you can't change her Can't blame her, can't tame her Can't tame her magic energy She's so magnetic, pulls you in every time (every time)"

______________________________________________

Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token

"My, my, those eyes like fire I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre Come now, bite through these wires I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

I will travel far beyond the path of reason Take me back to Eden"

______________________________

Cherry Wine by Hozier

"Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing

And it's worth it, it's divine I have this some of the time"

________________________________

FREAK by Demi Lovato

"Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven sent

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby Step right up to watch the freak go crazy

I am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat Take a bite just to watch me bleed, freak"

____________________________________

Wasteland by Seether

"I remember the way you left me broken Don't shed a tear for me Nobody seems to be willing to save me from purgatory Nobody seems to be able to shed the treadwheel"

Outfit ideas/Inspiration (Not mine btw, all found on pinterest)

She prefers to cover up because of the scarring. Tight fit clothes if possible. Head to toe. Maybe bare arms but even that's pushing it. She likes rough material too, something to scratch at her skin to bring sensation back in places were nerve damage left her numb.

ALRIGHT NOW:

Victor Cain:

Just Pretend by Bad Omens

"I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend

I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain't getting over you I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same"

__________________________________________________

The Summoning by Sleep Token

"Oh, and my love Did I mistake you for a sign from God? Or are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on 'Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man"

__________________________________________________

Just A Cloud Away by Pharrell Williams

"So What? You've blown a fuse? Well that happens to us all. Well, I come with great news. The day could change, change, change, change. We've all, of course, been there before Been there, crying, fighting, the dark. Let good energy be your strong - Wont get away-way-way-way This rainy day is temporary."

____________________________________________

Lighthouse Keeper by Sam Smith

"Yeah, I see you looking, Looking for a sign Praying for a beacon, So here's the light My arms will be wide open For the moment you arrive, arrive When you set sail on your journey And happiness is far away Love will guide you 'til the morning Lead your heart down to the bay Don't resist the rain and storm I'll never leave you lost at sea"

_________________________________________

How Far We've Come by Matchbox Twenty

"I'm waking up at the start of the end of the world, But its feeling just like every other morning before, Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone,

Well I, believe, it all, is coming to an end Oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend, Let's see how far we've come"

Outfit Ideas/Inspiration:

Victor is a layers kind of dude unless he's in gear. Then it's bulky enough for his tastes as is. He likes feeling weighted down. Definitely owns a weighted blanket somewhere lol

So yeah, here my Deputies, I hope this is informative to my precious babies in Chokehold because they are both dweebs and in need of loves <3 Thank @skoll-sun-eater for the tag!!!!

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 16

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 2437

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 16

They watched at first as she walked past Sam and out of her room, following the dragon, and then looked at each other. Both were too confused to say a word out loud, but their expressions to each other said more than words could have.

She was already in the kitchen making some coffee when they joined her, the dragon sitting on the bench seat at the table. At least the dragon wasn’t on the kitchen table. They were relieved she was awake and even seemed to be in a better mood than the previous day. However, now they’d have to try to dig into her personal life to find out where the dragon came from.

“So, uh… a dragon?” Sam asked, sitting down on the opposite side of the kitchen table, watching the dragon with both curiosity and worry.

“Yeah. I’m not sure what her name is yet,” she replied as she leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew.

“Where’d it come from?” Dean asked, sitting on the same side as his brother. He sounded gruffer than he wanted to.

The little dragon looked from her and over to Dean, closing its mouth and tilting its head like it was thinking or wanting to say something. The brothers thought that was weird. Dragons couldn’t talk, could they? “From the dimension where Pari live,” she answered, watching the interaction.

“How’d it get here?” Sam asked, looking from the dragon to her.

“Well, the, uh…” she paused momentarily as if she was thinking, “Astaria, another Pair. She told me.”

She was being short with her answers, and it was slightly frustrating both of them. The coffee finished a moment later, so she poured herself a cup and sat next to the dragon, who looked like a happy puppy when she sat down. Watching her pet the thing had them slightly speechless.

“Could you give us a little more details?” Sam asked her, attempting to coax her to talk.

“Will it help you with this case?” she asked nonchalantly, not looking up from the dragon.

Dean sighed, all those emotions washing over him again. He was mentally kicking himself for telling her that she was just a case. The moment he felt the heartbreak, the dragon looked at him, its mouth closed, its head tilted. She followed its gaze, and her deep, dark blue eyes met his green ones, causing his breath to hitch in his chest.

“Yes, it will help with the case,” Sam answered her, watching the interaction as his thoughts pieced things together. That dragon knew something, and Sam could see that.

She looked over at Sam, giving him a friendly smile, “Okay,” she began, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “I dream about another place sometimes, since my accident. I never interacted with anyone or anything there before. Well, at least not until last night. Another Pari, Astaria, greeted me, and we talked about stuff. But I never got the chance to ask her how to stay safe from the King of Hell. The dragon is my familiar. Apparently, all Pari have them. Oh, and she can travel between the two dimensions.”

That was something new that they didn’t know, “So, the dragon is gonna be staying?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked back down at it. He noticed how it was still watching Dean. When he looked at his brother, he saw how Dean was now staring at it again.

“Yeah, but she’s harmless. I think. I mean, she seems like she’s okay with both of you. I’m pretty sure if she felt either of you was some sort of threat, she wouldn’t be so calm,” she explained, rubbing the dragon’s chin, which made it almost look as though it was smiling, like when you rub a cat’s jawline.

She sipped her coffee as the brothers contemplated what to say. The dragon looked at them, sometimes focusing more on Dean than Sam. It also looked up at her, to which she reached down and petted it, almost seeming to do it absentmindedly.

“I’m gonna get some dinner,” Dean said, needing to attempt to focus on something other than her and that dragon. The way it kept looking at him made him think that it knew something. Dragons couldn’t be that smart, could they? The only dragons they dealt with had a human form, and this one, so far, didn’t.

He’d made burgers the day before and didn’t want to make the same thing again, so he rooted around in the freezer and fridge, deciding to just make eggs, bacon, and toast for dinner. Dean was already having a hard time focusing, and this would be simple to make and require less concentration.

The little dragon turned so that it could watch him cook. At first, she didn’t seem to notice, as she was paying more attention to Sam, “I’m pretty sure she’ll let you pet her,” she told Sam, then sipped her coffee.

“Not sure I’m ready to take that leap of faith,” he chuckled, “We’ve dealt with dragons before, only those weren’t very nice.”

She tilted her head a bit, puzzled, “You mean, there are dragons here too?” 

Sam chuckled again, “There were a couple, but they had human forms. They weren’t very nice either. That dragon doesn’t look like they did. She’s much smaller.”

When Dean started cooking the bacon, the little dragon flew over to the center island in the kitchen, wanting to get closer and see what he was doing. It walked to the corner and sat down, tilting its head so it could see better.

“Dean…” Sam said, concerned, watching the dragon.

“What?” he asked, not turning around.

“Dude, turn around,” Sam replied, a mix of worry and frustration.

Dean turned around and instantly saw the little dragon there. He only partially jumped but looked at the dragon curiously for a moment. His mind was already thinking a million miles a minute. The little dragon definitely knew something, and he was sure of it.

“You want a piece of bacon?” he asked it, smiling a little and chuckling.

The little dragon opened its mouth, getting a bit excited, causing all three of them to watch it, although Dean almost laughed. Once he cooked the first set, he blew on one of them, cooling it off as he held it between his fingers. The little dragon began to get more excited, dancing around a little bit.

Dean walked over to it, holding the bacon between his fingers. He felt a mixture of worry that it might take his fingers off with the bacon, but at the same time, he wasn’t afraid of it. The little dragon did its best to sit still, seeing Dean’s discomfort. He slowly reached out with the bacon, and to his surprise, the little dragon was very gentle when it took it out of his fingers. The little dragon sat back on its haunches, using its front feet/hands to hold the piece of bacon and eat it. Dean chuckled and reached out to it, slowly. When his hand got close to its head, the little dragon nudged its head against the palm of his hand and purred a little. Dean smiled and felt a warmth move through his body. It was odd but not uncomfortable.

“Well, at least she likes you,” Maria said, seeming slightly puzzled by their interaction.

“She is kinda cute,” he chuckled, then went back to cooking.

She looked somewhat perplexed, watching how the dragon had interacted with Dean, but she didn’t say anything. Sam watched the whole interaction and glanced occasionally at Maria. He had a suspicion that the dragon knew something about Dean. 

“What’s her name?” Sam asked Maria.

Before she could remind Sam that she didn’t know, Dean spoke up without turning around, “Bubbles.”

Maria furrowed her brow, even more puzzled than before, “That’s not her name. When her and I can communicate telepathically, she’ll tell me,” she answered, glaring slightly at Dean.

The little dragon looked between Dean and Maria, then ate the last bite of the bacon it had, licking its “fingers”.

“You’ll be able to talk to it, telepathically?” Sam asked, confused and intrigued.

She looked over at him, “That’s what Astaria said anyway.” 

Sam could tell she wasn’t telling him everything, and he wasn’t sure just how hard or far he could push to get more answers from her. “Did she say when you’d be able to do that?” he asked, trying to push but not too hard.

“As my bond with the dragon grows,” she answered, then looked at the dragon, who was still watching Dean cook, “Although she didn’t say how to make it grow.”

Dean finished cooking right around that time, bringing three plates to the table and setting one down for each of them. He’d considered arguing with her earlier when she said the dragon's name wasn’t Bubbles. He didn’t know how he knew that. He just did. So, he just stayed quiet, listening to her and Sam’s conversation.

The little dragon flew over and sat next to Maria, on its haunches with its front feet on the edge of the table, looking between the three of them.

“I think she wants some more bacon,” Dean chuckled, reaching for a slice on his plate.

She looked down at the dragon and handed it a piece of bacon off her plate, which the dragon took and ate with more manners than any of them had expected. 

The brothers were lost in thought, although on different topics. Sam had suspicions about Dean being Maria’s soulmate, which would make sense as to why he’d been feeling the way he had and why the dragon seemed interested in him. Even if they hadn’t found much more information on soulmates regarding how it worked with Pari or those who didn’t believe in soulmates.

Dean, though, was doing everything he could not to get lost in Maria’s eyes, even if she wasn’t really looking at him. He also wasn’t sure how he knew what the dragon's name was or why. When that question had been asked, the image of bubbles flashed through his mind. The little dragon was cute and seemed far more intelligent than any creature he’d dealt with before, while it still acted like a kitten or puppy at times. The mixture of that was something he found intriguing.

They still weren’t any closer to figuring out how to keep her safe from Crowley, or so they thought. Dinner was eaten mostly in silence. Maria didn’t even say anything about how the meal tasted. However, she did use her powers to clean up after dinner.

“Did you uh… still want that tour?” Sam asked her, feeling bad they hadn’t given her one the day before.

She looked up at him, taking her attention from the dragon, “I guess so,” she replied, almost as if she didn’t care either way.

Sam sighed, “Whenever you’re ready.” She gave him a small smile, “I guess now would be fine.”

The little dragon looked between her and Sam, tilting its head, then looked over at Dean and back at her. Dean was the only one who noticed, though. She got up after Sam and followed him out of the kitchen, using her powers to make a flannel appear on her, although it was left unbuttoned. The dragon didn’t follow her, though. It hopped up on the table and looked at Dean.

“What’s up?” he asked it after they left the kitchen.

An image of two people holding hands appeared in his head, making him sit back a bit.

“Pretty sure she doesn’t even like me,” he told it.

The little dragon tilted its head again. Then, an image of two people hugging came to his mind, making him chuckle.

“You’re gonna have to convince her,” he sighed and looked toward the opening of the kitchen, “I messed up, told her she was just a case.” He was still kicking himself for that one.

The little dragon shook its head, almost like it was trying to disagree with him on that statement, which made him chuckle a little.

Another image of two people sitting and talking came to his mind, but there was no sound.

Again, Dean chuckled and looked back at the dragon, “You convince her to do that, and I’ll talk to her.”

He could have sworn he saw the little dragon roll its eyes, but he didn’t want to read more into it than he already was. The fact that it seemed as though he was talking to a dragon was weird enough.

Sam walked her through the bunker, showing her the different facilities. He even tried to talk to her, but she didn’t seem to be up to talking much. Halfway back toward the war room, he finally decided to ask her.

“So, I read what we had on Pari. It’s not much. Do you believe in the soulmate thing?” he managed to come off nonchalantly as if it was no big deal. 

She shrugged, “Before last night, no, I didn’t believe in it. I’m still having a hard time thinking it’s even a thing. That kind of stuff only happens in fairy tales, not real life,” she answered fairly plainly.

“Then I take it you’re going to try exhausting yourself, to awaken your powers?” he asked, glancing over at her as they walked.

“It seems the easiest way to go about it. Not like there’s anyone here skilled enough to cast any of those spells,” she shrugged, “Besides, I’m just a case to you guys. I’ll figure it out.”

Sam sighed. He realized just how badly that statement from the day before had affected her, “I’m sorry I said that. We normally don’t end up in this kind of situation.” She glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow, “What do you mean, this kind of situation?”

“One where a case involves either of us as in-depth as this one apparently does,” he chuckled, thinking back to how amusing he’d found his brother the night before.

“Not sure how that’s funny,” she mumbled, watching where she was walking now.

“Sorry. I’m not laughing at you,” he replied, then got an idea, “Why don’t the three of us sit down tonight, have a few drinks, and we all get to know each other?”

For a bit, she stayed quiet, seeming to be in her thoughts. Just as they entered the war room, she finally answered him, “I guess so…” She didn’t sound too convincing, though, at least not to him.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 17

Tag List: @djs8891

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

[ares--athena]

Christmas Cheer

Robby x black fem! Reader x Tory

Summary- Robby and Tory have no idea what to get each other or reader and reader doesn't think she got them enough. Will their financial problems hurt the situation irreversibly?

Warnings- sorta angsty, fluffy, and the very very slight allusion to smut at the end.

December 5th- 20 days before Christmas (Reader POV)

"I ordered their gifts already." I told my friend Starr while walking down the school hall. "A little early, no?" She asked, it was 'early' for most people but not me I wanted everything to be here for them. "No, I honestly haven't gotten everything yet so I'm still a little behind schedule. It has to be perfect it's our first Christmas together." "Girl, I'm positive that if you gave those two some sand from outside they would cherish it like a million bucks. I think you'll be okay." She laughs making her way inside the classroom.

December 15th- 10 days before Christmas (Reader, POV)

Walking through the isles of the store nothing caught my eye for a good gift for them. I wanted to get Tory and Robby meaningful things and nothing was standing out. The stress of finals had been in both me and Tory stressed while Robby was fixing his relationship with his dad, so we were all white busy. I walked around the entire store twice before something caught my eye. A Lego Batman set, the one Tory's brother had been looking at. I don't think he ever told her because she does so much. So I did what any sensible person would do, I bought it with some gifts I did find for them.

December 20th- 5 days before Christmas (Tory POV)

"I don't know guys, what should I get them. Bills are tight this month and I can't make up for it." I ranted to Miguel and Sam while being in class. "Just talk to them, they'll understand." Sam explained. "But knowing Robby he'll try his best to buy what I want and I KNOW (y/n) will go absolutely overboard with gifts because it's her love language." I ranted more, what was I gonna do? "Then don't buy them anything, They love your cooking, make them Christmas dinner." Miguel suggested. "That might actually be a good idea."

December 20th- 5 days before Christmas (Robby POV)

"What the hell am I supposed to get them?" I asked Eli during practice. "You haven't gotten either of their gifts yet? Dude your real behind." He said. "You are not helping, (y/n) is probably getting me and Tory really thoughtful gifts and I can't think of shit to get for her." I almost yelled. "Okay, one calm down, two just get them both things they like, small stuff, they're both going to like whatever you get them." He said. "Yeah I guess."

December 24th- 1 day before Christmas (Reader POV)

Everything was going wrong, I wasn't finished wrapping presents, my hair wasn't done only being washed, and both Robby and Tory were on their way. "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" I mumbled to myself as I finally finished wrapping their gifts and started on my hair. About ten minutes later my hair was in two puffs and someone knocked at my door so it would have to do. "Merry Christmas Eve baby" Tory said with a smile. "Merry Christmas Eve love. How are you?" I asked letting her in. "Great now that I see you." As me and Tory got situated we started home alone, a top tier Christmas movie, to wait for Robby. It wasn't cold in the Valley by any means but we were cuddled under a blanket for the movie. There was another knock at my door, "I'll get it baby, relax" Tory said softly getting up. "Hi pretty girl" Robby told Tory giving her a side hug with gifts in his arm. "Robby what all did you get?" Tory asked. "You will find out tomorrow. Hi beautiful." Robby smiled at me. "Hi hun."

December 25- Christmas Day (Reader POV)

Waking up in Robby and Tory's arms may be the best part of my day already. "Babe, get up." I heard Tory shake me. I groaned and turned around. "Come on beautiful wake up. It's Christmas." I heard Robby from next to me. "I just wanna sleep for a little longer." I mumbled to them. "Come one babe it's already 10 and I finished breakfast.' Tory said softly. "Mm okay." I mumbled starting to get up.

"Thank you love breakfast was amazing." I said taking Tory and Robby's plates and giving her a kiss. "Merry Christmas babe." Tory smiled. "Come on we gotta open gifts." Robby said getting up. "Yeah I gotta get all your gifts from upstairs. I'll be right back." "WHAT ALL DID YOU GET!?" I heard Tory about from downstairs. I didn't reply as I went to my room and grabbed the gifts from my closet. Or as many as I could, I would have to make a second trip. I set the gifts by the stairs and grabbed the other one before making my way back down. "Holy fucking shit what all did you get?" Robby asked grabbing some gifts and putting them under the tree. I moved next to him to put down the ones I had. "I don't think I got you guys enough actually." I said softly going up the stairs to grab the rest of the gifts. "Holy fuck babe." Tory said coming out of the kitchen. "That's what I said. And She said she would've gotten us more." Robby mocked. "More! You would have put everywhere out of business with more." Tory shouted. "Come on just open your gifts." I said sitting by the tree. Tory and Robby both took seats near me. "Tory, what's wrong?" I asked her, "You look like you're going to cry." "I'm sorry I..." she paused to take a breath. "I wasn't able to get you guys anything. Money was really tight this month and Brandon really wanted this gift and I just couldn't. I'm sorry." She finished. "Tory," Robby started before just moving in to hold her. I joined in not long after. She started sobbing, "I just saw how much you spent on us and I'm sorry I wasn't able.." I cut her off, "Tory I don't do this for something in return I get you and Robby gifts because I love you. This is just how I show that. I don't need gifts from you two because you show your love differently this is just all I know how to do." I said smiling at her and wiping her tears. "Tory we know how much you care for us by what you do not what you give us." Robby spoke softly to her. "And Tory there is one gift I really want you to see first." I got up to grab a gift I had stashed away, I say back next to her letting Tory see who it was too. "Oh my god" she whispered. "You got Brandon a gift. This is, I can't even.." she stuttered looking shocked at the package. "I saw him looking at it on commercials and I don't think he ever told you about it, so I got it for him." "This is great. Babe, I don't even know what to say to you" she smiling at me. "I say we open the rest of these gifts. And then show beautiful how much we really appreciate her gifts." Robby smiled.

[xxang3l-trapxx]

Haunted House Panic!!!

A/N: I can’t believe it’s almost Halloween! And it’s almost time for this series to end! There’s one more fic after this!!

“Woah…”

Molly looked up the giant haunted house. The manor was probably once a place of glory, of wealth, of power. Now it was nothing more than a shell of its former self. Then again, it was probably for the best, since it was all the way out in the woods. It unnerved her that a family once lived here. If anything were to happen here, no one would find her for days.

She exhaled and turned to Olivia. The younger woman had agreed to go with her to this event, only because her other friends ‘had something else to do’ but she knew that was an excuse to spend time with the elder.

“You sure this is the place? I don’t wanna spend too much time out here, I’m freaked the hell out,” Molly asked, pulling out the flyer she had been given.

Olivia looked up from her phone and shoved it in her jacket pocket.

“Yeah, the address on the flyer matches the sign out there,” she said, looking at the towering structure. The younger woman adjusted her glasses.

Molly’s nerves were somewhat calmed, though not by much. Olivia must have noticed, because she grabbed the shorter woman’s hand without a word. She smiled at the silent gesture.

“Thank you so much. Honestly, I don’t know what I was even-”

Molly was cut off by a blood curdling scream. Two girls; she thinks they were the Ashes, but she couldn’t remember, ran out. Hand in hand, they looked terrified. They ran past Molly and Olivia, and into the forest.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at the two girls.

“Geez, what the hell made them scream?”

“It probably nothing, maybe we should get-”

Another scream pierced the night air as Alex ran out the house, covered in his usual amount of sweat with Tod (or maybe it was Rod?) in his arms. The two boys ran to Olivia and Molly, white as ghosts.

“Oh my fucking god! It was horrible,” Tod cried, still shivering in Alex’s arms.

Molly was seriously having second thoughts. If Tod, who was normally chilled out, was terrified, then she was bound to go insane in that madhouse.

“What the hell is going on in there?”

Alex shook his head.

“I can’t even describe it. You’re on your own,” he warned.

And with that, the two boys ran off into the night.

Molly nervously danced in place. So far, two pairs had run out of the haunted house petrified. If one more pair came out screaming and crying, she was taking Olivia going home.

“Maybe we should head back. Four people just ran out of that place screaming. Whatever they saw, it must’ve been worse than anything we’ve seen before,” Molly said, playing with the ends of her scarf.

Olivia glared.

“No fucking way. We came all the way out here, and for what? To turn back around? Besides, those are practically children, they jump at anything. It’s probably not even that scary,” she drawled.

Just as she said that, Sam came running out of the house, nearly tripping in the front steps. He blinked away tears and looked pissed. Peter followed not too close behind, shouting apologies.

“Look Sam, I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was gonna be *that* bad, believe me! I’m sorry, okay?”

Sam walked off, flipping the bird as high as he could.

“Fuck you! I don’t wanna see you for the rest of the night!”

Peter raced after his boyfriend, his hair whipping around his face in the breeze.

After the two were gone, Olivia gestured to the forest.

“See? I told you it wasn’t that scary. If someone like Alex or Sam ran out of this place, it’s probably harmless, those two are scared of everything,” she stated.

Molly glared at her.

“Alex has paranoia, don’t be a dick. And Sam is just jumpy!”

Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Suuuuure. Let’s go in!”

And with that, she dragged Molly into the house, smiling.

The minute the two entered the house, Olivia felt a sense of dread and foreboding wash over her.

Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into?

Not wanting to show fear, she asserted her dominance over the situation.

“We should hold hands. After all, I don’t want you getting lost, since you’re soooo scared,” she said, putting on a smile.

Molly simply just smiled back at her.

“I’m good!”

Is she okay?

The two went down what must have been the foyer, though with how the house was set up neither could tell.

Olivia frowned, so far, this place was lame as fuck. But she came all this way out here, so there was no turning back!

“Yknow, maybe we should just turn ba-”

She was cut off by Molly knocking her out of the way and getting on top of her.

“Eh? What the fuck was that?”

Molly got off of the younger woman and helped her up.

“Sorry about that! There some sort of laser set up! It’s the kind that burns through skin and right down to the bone,” she said, gently hopping over the trap,

Olivia looked on in shock at the actual lasers that were on clear (haha that was a pun please laugh) display and jumped over them aswell.

The two wandered to what seemed to be a dead end and stopped. Olivia was confused.

Molly felt around the wallpaper and pushed to the side. Sure enough, there was a sliding wall, which revealed a whole other section of the house.

“How did you know it would work,” Olivia asked as Molly moved on forward.

“I don’t know. I just did. Now come on, let’s keep going,” she said, Olivia trailing not too far behind.

A dark cloud of fear penetrated her mind, and she had half of it to run out. But there was no turning back.

Molly turned around, her expression stone cold and unwavering.

“Olivia, I think it’s best if we split up. You’ll take the left wing; I’ll take the right. Okay?”

No! The thought of being alone in a house that could collapse at any point was fucking terrifying.

“W-what? I though we’re gonna-”

“Great! I knew I could depend on you,” Molly said.

And with that, she ran off to the right wing. And Olivia was completely alone, in the center of the path.

She swallowed, and headed left, whispering assurances to herself.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. If Sam and Alex came running out of this joint, you can definitely make it,” Olivia whispered to herself.

Just then, something came out of the dimly lit hall that nearly made her piss in fear.

“Are you sure you’ll make it out,” a breathy voice called from the shadows.

Olivia whipped around, her eyes wide.

“What the fuck? Who’s that? Show yourself,” she ordered.

All of a sudden, a girl in a 50s style dress came rushing forward, eyes completely white. She was covered in blood and was holding a large cleaver.

Olivia screamed in fear, and she ran. Far away, out of the left wing, and straight into Molly.

She knocked over the older woman, and both shirked in surprise.

“What? What’s going on? Why the hell are you screaming?”

Olivia shook and sobbed, gripping onto Molly’s coat.

“There was a ghost! It was some girl dressed in 50s clothes, and she was holding a cleaver,” she sobbed, shaking like a leaf.

Molly pulled the both of them up and glared.

“Get a grip! There’s no such thing as ghosts!” She was tired, scared and hungry. Her expression softened as she saw her girlfriend’s face all red and tear-streaked.

“Ah, I’m sorry for yelling. Let’s just…go upstairs.”

And so, the women went hand in hand upstairs, Olivia making the sign of the cross with her free hand ever so often.

They reached the top of the stairs, and the went to the right.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this!”

Molly’s words of reassurance did nothing to calm Olivia’s nerves, but she smiled anyways.

“Hell yeah we do! Let’s blow this popsicle-”

She was cut off by manic giggles and was instantly drained of all color.

“-stand. What the fuck was that?”

A voice came from the shadows. It was high pitched and annoying, but unsettling at the same time.

“More like…who the fuck what that?”

A fucking clown, complete with John Wayne Gacy-esque makeup and a fucking axe came running towards them at full speed.

In order to not get their hands cut off, Molly and Olivia separated, jumping out of the way.

Olivia punched the clown at full force when she saw her coming towards Molly. She fought the hateful harlequin, strike after brutal strike coming in a quick succession.

“Leave my girlfriend alone you bitch,” she spat, covered in blood and bruises.

Olivia spotted a door, which said “Exit” in a child’s handwriting, and saw light coming from it. Turning to Molly, she barked an order.

“Run to the door! There’s gotta be an exit or some help! Go!”

Molly nodded fearfully and started to sprint.

The clown, who was still under Olivia, smirked.

“Good job restraining me. But I should mention one thing…”

Molly’s blood pounded in her ears, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t anything. Escape was all that mattered, and any fuck up would cause her doom. Somehow, she heard from the clown.

“Ah! I forgot to mention, there are trap doors all over the floor! So watch your step, Molly…”

Oh shit.

Just as the clown spoke, Molly could feel herself going through the floor. As this happened, the world became a haze of gray, and she was brought back to the other timeline. She felt like she was in mid-air again, like she was hurtling towards death again. In the distance, she could hear her name being called, but she didn’t know whether it was her or Olivia or the clown.

Just before she could go to an agonizing end, Molly could feel a hand gripping her wrists. Two hands gripping her wrists.

Olivia looked down upon her, heaving and shaking, but with a victorious smile on her face.

“I got you just in time! You’re welcome,” she smirked, pulling the shorter out of the trap door.

Molly gripped onto Olivia, and the two didn’t bother to look back as they ran towards the exit door.

They reached for it together and pushed forwards.

Warm white light blanketed the two at first, but that didn’t last.

They were greeted by…Sam? He smiled, dressed in a cheap Ghostface costume, and waved to them.

“Congratulations! You made it through the entire haunted attraction! I honestly thought you wouldn’t make it, haha!” he cheered, holding a bowl of candy.

The two women stared in shock. Didn’t he run out into the woods?

“What the fuck? Didn’t you just run out the house and into the woods? And same thing goes with Peter, the Ashes and everyone else,” Olivia questioned, gesturing to everyone else. Peter flashed a peace sign as he sat on the couch in the corner.

Sam turned around to face to the two women and set down the candy.

“Yeah, we did. Until you both went inside. We went around a separate entrance and set up everything! Julie was the creepy vintage lady you probably saw in the left wing behind that bookcase, Kim was the creepy clown, and Clear and Wendy worked to set up the lasers,” he rattled on, using his hands to explain.

Molly stepped forward.

“So you were behind the trap doors too? Or was that someone else?”

Sam frowned.

“I thought we scrapped that plan,” he said as he turned to everyone else.

Putting back on his usual smile, he picked up the bowl of candy once more and offered it to the two.

“Anyways, did you like the experience?”

Olivia sputtered. After all she’d been through, this asshole was the nerve to ask if she liked it?

“Are you serious? I thought I was gonna die!”

He smiled and gave a fistful of candy to her.

“Well that sucks. Have some candy as compensation!” he offered up a packet of Red Vines. Fuckin’ bastard.

“Hell no!”

Molly stepped forward and took them, ripping them apart with her mouth like a wild animal.

“If you don’t wanna ‘em I’ll take ‘em! I’ve been starving for hours,” she said.

A day later, Olivia did extract her revenge. In the form of jumpscaring Sam when he came into work early the next morning.

[zmediaoutlet]

emoji asks without emojis (?): What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)? What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to? Who is your favorite character to write? How do you feel about fan art of your stories? Do you spend much time researching for your stories? What made you start writing? What's the sweetest fic you've created so far? What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

bud thank you for the ask and also thank you for not just sending emojis i would be so confused ;-;

but also dang that's a lot

okay fuck it let's gooooo i'll wash dishes later:

What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

I'm just gonna shorthand here and say 'anything that requires a more complex plot'. Romance is easy, action is easy, horror is easy -- as long as they're short and tight. But doing things that are going to stretch out and need a plotty spine to hook into for more than about 20k? Oof. I don't want to come up with like a murder mystery or something. Why can't all stories just be 'guy has complex feelings he doesn't want to admit about other guy even as they are boning'. That's my wheelhouse.

What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Ooh I'm super bad at this kind of thing. Like, if I didn't mean to do it how will I notice it's in there. My guess is that it's probably something like -- Dean's essential uncertainty plus Sam's essential confidence? Even in fics that aren't about that (or that subvert those things specifically), I have a very solid hc/conception of each of them that I bet I literally can't write against. (But if anyone's got a diff answer let me know. Maybe I'm accidentally including like Hardees references in every fic.)

Who is your favorite character to write?

Dean. He's just so easy. His narrative voice is fun and easy to tweak into cracky or romantic or deep angst. Sam's a lot harder to make sound distinctly Sam, partly bc he doesn't have as many catchphrases or insane verbal constructions, so while it's a good challenge to try to write his voice -- Dean's more satisfying, haha.

How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

Great! It never happens, but. Great in theory! (Except when v nice people named frauke agree to do an exchange. <3) But like, no need for anyone to ever ask permission. Or even tell me, hell. You do you.

Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

mmmm yes and no. I am definitely one of those people who's googling literal map directions and 'when was the war of 1812 oh wait, right' and what professor someone's likely to take Anthro 202 from, but I find that if you don't let yourself get bogged down in those things they're actually helpful -- the restrictions of reality actually serve as a good goad to creativity as you try to work inside those boundaries. But, like, I'm not going to spend 3 hours figuring out how to make moonshine if the character's making moonshine. That's going to be, 'and then he made moonshine' and we're gonna move on. (Top tip tho it is easy to blow up your house if you do that wrong, so don't have the character accidentally blow up his house.)

What made you start writing?

I wanted a story to exist and no one had written it the way I wanted it, so I had to do it myself. That's always it. If someone else could just deliver exactly what I want the way I want it, I don't think I'd be out here in the word processor mines getting the writing equivalent of the black lung. But I want it how I want it, so. Here I am. [cough cough]

What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

ummm [pause while I go check my ao3] -- idk, I guess this is probably recency bias but I'll go with my latest heaven coda, feels like rain. It's sweet the way I like sweet, which is comforting and there's definitely sugar but it doesn't make your teeth ache. They'll repaint. <3

What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

Almost entirely good ol' Microsoft Word. I hate writing inside Google Docs and try to avoid it if at all possible. Dropbox Paper is okay but I prefer it as a note-taking/saving device. I've also used Calmly Writer Online, which has a nice blank-slate vibe (and will auto-generate an m-dash, which is not to be sniffed at), but if I'm remembering right it doesn't save things for you so it's a bit high risk. I have also been known to use pen & paper, but I think faster than that so it's mostly frustrating -- nothing better than literally closing your eyes, setting the music volume to stun, and racing through some sprinty writing in the boring blankness of Word with sans-serif font. :)

[saintsofwarding]

EMBRYO

Chapter 5: Burger Fool

"No," the diner guy said.

"No?" Rose echoed.

"You heard me. No."

"No job, you mean? No...what? Why?"

"Yeah, no job." He ticked off on his meaty fingers. "...Yeah, no job, and 'cause we aren't hiring kids, Miss..." He glanced down at her application. "Uh...Winners?"

"Winters," Rose said. "Why the hell not?"

"You're sixteen. I ain't doing that whole teenage-drama song and dance again. Not after last time. Come back in two years or whatever." He looked her over doubtfully. "If you want to work here that bad, I guess."

Rose glanced around the diner, which was, non-encouragingly, called Vinnie's Meat Hut. A few exhausted-looking patrons slouched at booths and window tables, sadly munching plates of anemic fries and burgers that looked as if they might cause cardiac arrest on contact.

"Come on," she said under her breath. "I'm...young and hip. I could really...bring a fresh perspective into...you know, the day to day..."

"Fresh perspective," the manager said.

"Yeah. I could wash dishes, too, if you don't want me waitressing. Or I could...um...take out the trash."

"Take out the trash," the manager said.

"Please," Rose said.

"No."

"Please?"

"Kid, you need money that bad, go ask your mommy."

Rose blinked, then put on a sad face with big eyes. "I don't have a mommy," she whispered. "Or a daddy. They died when I was three."

"Cancer?"

"Brain."

"Both of 'em?"

"It was contagious."

"Get the fuck outta here."

Rose let out a huff, turned, and stomped out. She couldn't resist throwing up a middle finger before she went through the door.

The manager returned the gesture half-heartedly.

Rose stood on the diner's stoop, staring out at the rainy morning. Today was Friday, thank God. She needed the weekend badly. She hadn't gotten any homework done that week on account of the stuff with Sam and, of course, the monster.

The monster.

Heisenberg had said nothing about the previous night- not that Rose had given him a chance. She'd left before he even emerged from his room, stuffing handfuls of granola bars into her pockets so she didn't even have to stick around for breakfast. She'd barely slept- her second night in a row without much sleep- and now her eyes were itchy, her brain half-congealed concrete. Still, her ankle felt almost healed. One good thing about her power: she healed really, really fast. She'd never got worse than a broken bone, but even that had been better in a week. That had been tough to explain to the elementary school; Rose suspected Heisenberg had employed threats and intimidation to keep those concerned from looking into it too deeply.

Morning traffic rushed past, horns squabbling, pedestrians pushing by, on their way to work or school. The night before, this street had been ominous, dark and abandoned, but now in the gray daylight looked back to normal. Halloween decorations hung in shop windows, and a news-stand owner across the way was sat by his stand on a folding chair, portable radio by his side, listening to the reports.

Rose edged closer. She ambled across the street, ducked under the news-stand's awning, picked out a magazine, pretended to read. ...Light showers all across Regent City and the coast...looks like our October's only going to get colder, folks, better bundle up those kids for trick-or-treating...three-car pileup on I-60, no one badly hurt...Mt. Calyx hospital reports that...

Rose allowed herself a moment of relief. Maybe...maybe it had been chalked up as a fluke...maybe...

...More information on last night's subway attack...

Her spine went stiff.

...No casualties. A survivor and eyewitness to the perpetrator is currently in stable condition. While wild dogs are rare in Regent City, we do warn all our listeners that...

"Wild dogs?" Rose said, out loud.

The stand owner looked up sharply. "Hey," he said. "You gonna buy that?"

Rose glanced down at the magazine. Engines Quarterly. Heisenberg didn't have this edition yet. It had just come out.

"Yeah," she said. "Actually, I am."

Heading to school on the city bus, Rose hunched down in the seat, glanced around, then got out her phone. It was a super-shitty old one- Heisenberg had tried to juice it up too, but there was only so much he could do- and it took a long time for anything to load. Once it did, she scanned the breaking news articles one after another, trying to see if Mara or anyone else had mentioned her. Most of the articles agreed that it had been wild dogs. One posited that someone had gone psycho after snorting horse Viagra- apparently maulings were a common side effect of that activity- though judging from the comments section it wasn't a widely shared theory.

By the time Rose reached her stop the relief was enough to get her sluggish self off the bus and into school. Still, she tugged her knit hat down, like that would hide her face, and hunched into her coat, trying to get from class to class with as much speed as possible.

The conversation in her classes was a buzz on the edge of her awareness. Parties, Halloween events, weekend plans. Someone mentioned the subway incident, but it was more about how metal it was that there had been an animal attack in the middle of Regent City. No details. Rose's mind kept drifting to her ill-fated interview at Vinnie's Meat Hut. Ugh, she shouldn't have been such a brat. She needed money. She needed...

Just talk to Heisenberg.

Just talk.

She cut off her thoughts with a shake of her head. No. She had to do this herself. Besides, he was keeping things from her. Big things. If he was gonna know about what she was up to, he had to earn it.

When the bell rang for lunch, she didn't head with her friends to the lunchroom. Instead, she made a beeline for the library. The hush enfolded her, a few other students hunched over reading tables or sitting in the computer lab. Rose claimed a computer, logged in, and navigated to the search engine. Glancing to and fro, she hunched a little further forward before taking the metal disc from her pocket.

It gleamed in the light from the computer screen. She set it on the edge of the keyboard, then typed in

EMBRYO

Nothing, of course. Just the usual definition, wiki, et cetera. Embryo test and project embryo turned up even fewer results- just articles about artificial wombs, lab rats, in vitro shit. Rose stuck out her tongue as she scrolled through the image results, then, with a spike of frustration, shut down the search engine and left the computer lab for the library front desk.

The librarian looked up as she approached. It was the same one as the day before, a mid-thirties woman with a braid over her shoulder.

"'Scuse me," Rose said. She slapped the disc down on the desk. "Can I look up barcodes here?"

She looked up from her computer. "...What? Is this for a project?"

"Yeah. Research project. Big thing. Really important." Rose lifted her eyebrows. "So can I? Scan barcodes?"

"Um..." The librarian's eyes flicked to the disc. She smiled a little. "You're...Rosemary, right?"

"Rose."

"Rose, I think this...what is this? A dog tag?"

"Sort of."

"Well," she said, indulgently, "I think you'd need the database for whatever...whatever data is on this if you wanted the code to lead to anything. Right?" Her smile turned apologetic. "Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Sure. Yeah. No, it's okay," Rose began. Dumbass. Of course. "I, just, I-"

"Rose."

She went stiff. She stared down at the desk for a couple seconds, then turned.

Sam stood behind her, hands in her jean jacket pockets, staring down like Rose had just been staring. Dark circles cut under her eyes, her brows drawn together. She kind of looked like she'd been crying. Rose looked around, but none of Sam's friends were anywhere to be seen.

"What do you want?" Rose said.

"I...look..." Sam squeaked her boot along the ground. "I understand if...if you want to tell me to shove off, but..."

"A little bit, yeah."

Her eyes flicked up. She had been crying, Rose realized with a pang. Her eyes were red and puffy, the skin under them pearlescent.

"Can we talk?" Sam said. "Somewhere else?"

Rose opened her mouth. "Yeah," she said. Her voice was soft. "Yeah, of course."

They ended up in the alleyway. The same one as before. The dumpster was back upright, the dog monster's black blood entirely washed away by the rain. The air smelled crisp, clean. Rose sat on the steps, while Sam paced back and forth in front of her.

"So?" Rose said. "Talk."

"I..." Sam stopped. She let out her breath. Then she reached in her bag and brought out her phone. "I know Mara."

The air seemed to siphon from Rose's lungs. Her vision shocked white.

"What?" she said.

"Yeah. I mean...sort of. My friend, Necro, he's in band with me...they went to middle school together. She goes to East Regent High now, but...he knows her. And he was texting her in the hospital. And she said..." Sam scrolled through her phone. "She said...a girl saved her. A blonde girl. With black stuff that came out of her. Someone told her not to talk about it, but she couldn't keep quiet about who saved her. She said...this girl...drove the monster away."

"The monster," Rose whispered.

Sam nodded.

"It was you," she said. "Wasn't it?"

Rose looked at her hands. She drew in a slow breath. As she did, black veins twined through her skin, undulating slightly, like living things. She clenched her fists and they retracted. Sam didn't move. She stood there, watching her with dark, unreadable eyes.

Rose nodded.

"Monster attacked me last night," she said. "I took care of it."

Sam let out a laugh. The sound of it bordered on the hysterical. "Took care of it? You freaking hit it with a subway train, dude!"

She couldn't help but smirk. Heisenberg would be proud. "A little bit."

"That totally beats your goth hobo dad's stop sign maneuver, hands down."

"He's not my real dad," Rose confessed.

"...Huh?"

"He kind of saved me from, among other things, a draconic vampire lady's psychic nightmare dreamscape palace when I was a baby. He's been taking care of me ever since."

Sam took this all in with a blink, but all she said was "And he's...like you?"

"Pretty much."

"Good thing he's not your real dad," Sam said. "I'd hate to meet your mom."

Rose snorted. She doubled over with laughter; it kept coming, snorts and hiccups, uncontrollable; her eyes began to water. Sam started to laugh, too, one hand pressed to her mouth. She leaned against the far wall, her smooth brown throat open to the cool air. Warmth radiated in the pit of Rose's stomach, and despite her exhaustion, her aches and pains, the distance still between her and Sam, she couldn't help but be glad to be here, now, with her.

Their laughter died, and the silence came in once more.

"The way I talked to you..." Sam began.

"You were scared. I get it."

"Not just that." She looked down. "My aunt lived in Raccoon City."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She and my mom...they were super close. After...after what happened...after they just...never found her..." Sam shook her head, her gaze faraway. "My mom was apparently never the same. She's..."

She cut off.

"This stuff," she went on, "these...things. They've destroyed so many people's lives. They've taken so much away from so many. I was...I was scared, yeah. But...I didn't want to be scared of you...just of...of that."

The corner of Rose's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. "That?"

"You know." She wriggled her fingers. "That!"

"Are those my tentacles?" Rose said, letting her voice go sepulchral on the last word.

"Well, I can't summon them, so yeah."

Rose nodded.

"I get it," she said. "But, Sam...this power. These things I can do..." Her throat tightened. "They are me. Don't you understand? I can't put them down. I can't ever be apart from them. I...sometimes, I wish..."

She cut off, then began again. "They are me," she said again. "And. And you get all of me, or you don't get me at all."

Her face was hot, but her voice hadn't shook. Sam still stared at her. Her eyes were bright in the trace of weak sunlight from above. A momentary break in the clouds.

"Can you accept that?" Rose said.

Sam paused. Then-

She nodded.

"I think so," she said.

"Good," Rose said. "I need your help. You said Mara told you guys that someone told her not to talk?"

"Yeah."

"You have any money for flowers?" Rose said. "Because we've got a hospital to visit."

***

"Fuck school," Sam said, starting up her car.

"You're, like, a straight A student," Rose said.

"That's why I can say fuck school." She backed out of the school lot and they were off. "I've earned school-fucking privileges."

The drive to Mt. Calyx grew darker by the minute, the afternoon's brief respite from the rain over. Raindrops spattered Sam's windshield as they drew closer. Rose's hands were clammy; she tried not to fidget, but she picked at a hole in her jeans anyway. Sam glanced over, but said nothing. From the line between her eyebrows, she was a little leery, too.

Mt. Calyx rose above the surrounding buildings. It was built atop one of Regent City's hills, sloping up from the docks district to overlook the city below. The hospital was an imposing steel-and-glass structure with extensive, tree-lined grounds, its name done in bright teal lights across its front facade. After parking, Rose and Sam dawdled by the car, shivering in the chill wind, staring up at the building.

"Kind of creepy, don't you think?" Sam said. "Hospitals, I mean?"

"I've never really been inside a hospital before."

"You serious?"

Rose nodded. "Me and Heisenberg, we...kind of heal on our own. With him, there's some extra organs to deal with-"

"Extra- what, now?" She shook her head. "Long story, right?"

"They all are." In the long years of her child-and-tween-hood, Rose and Heisenberg had bounced from cheap apartment to cheap apartment, motel to abandoned warehouse, never staying for more than a couple years, tops. They'd watched a ton of television- together, sometimes, Heisenberg making constant observations and jokes at the expense of the characters, but mostly Rose alone, huddled under a blanket, staring at the screen, waiting for Heisenberg to come back. It was all kind of a mystery. With his powers, he could have done anything, made fuckloads of cash, become famous, but he never had. Back then, Rose hadn't questioned it- it was the two of them against the world, and no one else mattered- but now she wondered if it hadn't all been for her benefit, if he'd stayed under the radar to keep her under the radar in turn.

Once she would have chalked that up to pure love.

Now?

She couldn't think about that right now, couldn't think about him. Point was, they'd watched a lot of hospital dramas. A lot. Rose knew the procedure, even if she'd never experienced it.

"Come on," she said. "Let's not keep Mara waiting."

They made their way through the sliding doors and into the hospital proper. The lobby smelled subtly luxurious, paneled in wood, the lights kept tastefully low, but under the muffled murmur of conversations and the music played softly on hidden speakers, Rose detected a tang of something like disinfectant, chalky and stinging.

Her nerves prickled. She shoved her hands in her pockets in case her mold started to show. Sam went and spoke to the front desk person, who handed out clip-on visitor's badges and a hospital map.

"She's in the recovery wing," Sam said, returning to Rose. "Room D-6- oh! Look! A shop. Perfect."

She went to the gift shop and bought a bouquet of pink flowers. As she did, Rose's phone began to vibrate. An unknown number. That would probably be Heisenberg. She chewed her lip. Shit, had the school called Heisenberg or something? Usually he couldn't care less whether or not she skipped out on class. After last night had he decided to play responsible-parent after all?

She shoved it back into her pocket and hurried to Sam's side. This time of day, the hospital was quiet, a few nurses chatting in a break area, a doctor working at a computer in a glassed-in office. Rose kept glancing around, then reminding herself not to look suspicious.

"Don't look suspicious," Sam whispered.

"I know!"

"We're not doing anything wrong, we're just visiting a friend."

"I know," Rose said again. She stared down a hallway, pale green walls giving the light an underwater quality. "I just...weirds me out, is all. This place. I..."

She trailed away.

A memory. Suddenly. Like it had walked through a door in her mind. That smell. Chemicals and disinfectant, medical supplies and- mold. A woman's voice, singing her to sleep. Hush, now, child, the wolves are coming, hush, I pray you, hush, or they will make your worries their meal...

The language was unfamiliar, lulling and strange. But Rose recognized every word. She heard it, even now. Faraway, faraway. That song.

Her eyes- golden?

A place deep underground.

Pulse. The hallway was no longer a hospital, modern and clean, but the rocky, lightless cave passageway. The glitter of crystal, the rumble of something underfoot. Something deep, and old. Something sleeping.

Something waiting.

Another pulse. The memory left her. She was back in her body, but she was cold, still staring, white shocking into her vision with each heartbeat. She felt the slick squirm of her mold through her skin, tightening around her heart. Was this a panic attack? Heisenberg wasn't here. He wasn't here. Oh, shit, was she gonna freak out? She needed him bad. She needed-

A warm hand clasped hers. She jumped with a gasp. Sam stared up at her, concern bright in her eyes.

"Rose?" she said.

Her breathing sounded jagged, strangled.

"I..." she began. She and Sam shuffled to the side as a couple nurses walked past, barely giving them a second look. "I'm...I saw...I thought..."

She looked down the hallway, but it was no longer natural rock traced into form by a lantern held aloft, picking out the glitter of crystals growing from the walls, just a regular-ass hospital hallway. The panic slowly ebbed; warmth came back into her limbs.

Sam's grip on her helped.

She realized just how hard Sam was holding her hands, and heat rushed into her face so fast she was surprised her head didn't straight-up explode. She jerked her hands from Sam's. Sam's eyes widened a little, then dipped to her boot toes.

She stepped back.

"I..." Rose started- to apologize, maybe- holding your hands makes me feel way too much right now and I just can't- I'm sorry, Sam, I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you again-

She didn't go on.

"It's okay," Sam said. She gave Rose a wry smile. "Hey, if you'd passed out or something at least we're already at the hospital."

"Funny," Rose told her. Still, she managed to return Sam's smile.

As they left, she glanced down the hall once more.

Empty.

An echo of singing traced her mind.

Hush now, child. The wolves are coming.

***

They found Mara's room on the next floor up.

The nurse on duty let them in. "She's been through a lot," she told them. "Take it easy, okay?"

"Don't worry." Sam gave her her most winning smile. "We're not gonna bite."

Rose dug her elbow into Sam's ribs as the nurse left.

"What?" Sam said, with a wheeze.

Inside, the lights were turned low, the room's single window washed by rain. The television was on, casting pale light over the hunched shape of a girl in the bed. Her long auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders; her eyes were bruised. She lay with one leg bandaged, tubes leading from the crook of her arm to the saline bag on a stand nearby, her gaze unfocused and lowered. When the door clicked shut, she gave a little gasp and whirled.

"Hi, Mara," Sam said, giving her a wave.

"Sam?"

"Yep. And look who I brought with me." Sam stood aside. Mara's eyes widened.

"Oh, my god," she breathed. "It's you."

"Again. Yeah. I didn't get to introduce myself before," Rose said. She ventured forward and sat by Mara's bedside. Behind her, Sam put the flowers into an empty mug on a counter. "I'm Rose. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks to you. I thought that thing was gonna eat me." She scrambled awkwardly forward and before Rose could react caught her up in a hug. Rose stiffened, then put her arms, slowly, around Mara. It's okay, she told herself. This is okay.

"Thank you," Mara whispered. She pulled back, her eyes bright. "What was it, anyway?" She gave her a quick glance-over. "...You're not another one, are you?"

"No! Not...uh. Not like that, anyway. That's kind of what I'm here to find out. To make sure you were all right, and to get more information."

"Sure. Anything."

"Is there anyone else here?"

"My mom's just stepped out to go grab some stuff from home-"

"No," Rose said. She looked back toward the windows that looked out to the corridor. Sam quickly whisked the blinds shut. "Not your mom. You said someone didn't want you talking about what really happened. All the papers say it was a wild dog attack, but that's bullshit. Tons of people saw the monster. No matter how scared you are you're not gonna confuse a six-foot strawberry jello monster for a pack of wild anything."

Mara stared at her as she talked, fiddling with her hospital gown. The rain cast eerie shadows over her face.

"They warned me to shut my mouth," she said. "They told me...they told me it would be...bad for the public if I didn't...that it wouldn't do anyone any good to talk about things I didn't understand..."

"Listen." Rose took the Embryo disc from her pocket and held it up. "I found this in the monster's remains. The monster was the fifth test. Don't you get it? Someone is sending these things out. Someone is making them. And if I don't stop it, more people are gonna get hurt."

Mara's eyes shone in the light from the television screen, the sound turned down to a low murmur nearly drowned out by the rain.

"She showed up right after the doctors finished with my leg," she whispered.

"She?" Rose asked. "Who's she?"

"I..." Mara began. "I thought she was part of the hospital staff...a therapist or something. She was wearing, like, nice clothes under a white coat but she wasn't one of the other doctors. She had this...thing? Like a phone but smaller, and it flashed, and it felt like everything I saw in the subway was getting sucked out of my head. And then she told me not to say anything about it."

"Do you remember anything else? What she looked like? Any kind of...symbols she was wearing? Anything?"

Mara shook her head. "When she flashed that thing her face went fuzzy. I could see it but not, you know? Like my eyes wouldn't focus but it was my brain."

Rose glanced at Sam. The other girl's face was paler than normal, her arms crossed over her stomach.

"Okay," Rose said. "I-"

Her phone began to buzz again. "Sorry," she muttered, and looked at the screen. Another unknown number. Jesus, would he keep calling her until she picked up?

"Hang on," she said. "It's my...just hang on..."

She went over to the window. "What?" she said into the phone.

"Kid? That you?"

"Yes. I'm...kind of busy right now."

"What's going on? You're not doing anything stupid, are you?"

"Would you be able to tell the difference?"

"Cool it, pipsqueak. This fucking-" Something clattered, and he yelled indistinctly at it for a few seconds before returning. "-Fuckin' school of yours said you were gone-"

"Yes, and now I'm busy, so if you don't mind-"

"Don't you hang up on me! You need to get your ass home, you hear me? Get it home, now, or tell me where you are and I'll come and get you, I swear to-"

His voice hissed into static. Rose looked at the phone.

"Heisenberg?" she said.

"-don't- dangerous- need-" More static. With a crackle, the signal dropped, the call lost.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, still too-pale.

"I...I'm not sure-" Rose began.

Voices echoed down the corridor. Sam peered through the blinds, then looked back up. "Shit," she said.

"What?"

"We need to move," she said. "I think someone's coming."

[hahahahahangst]

FU In my head (Be The Young 18)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

FU in my head

Sorry for acting this strange, I can’t control myself [...] If I’m honest, it’s more fun when you can’t read my mind

When she opened her eyes, it was because of insistent knocking. She was on the motel floor, Dean passed out on the other side of the room. The knocking continued as Emily stood up and started walking towards Dean. She lightly kicked his body and he also started to come back to his senses. Groaning, Emily walked towards the door and opened it. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey. It’s past your checkout.” The words didn’t register, a big headache hitting her. 

“What?” She asked. 

“It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here that needs your room.” Emily looked at the ‘couple’, which consisted of a very embarrassed businessman and a girl who was clearly a hooker. 

“Sure, uh- can you give us ten minutes?”

“I’m gonna have to charge you extra, you know.” 

“Of course, ten minutes. We’ll be out.” Emily closed the door and went back to trying to get Dean off the floor. 

“Wake up, sleepy head, we need to go.” She tapped him with her foot again. 

“Uh?” 

“We need to go!” She repeated. “What the hell happened, Dean?”  

Dean, groggy, sat up. “I think Sam knocked me out.” He said. 

“Alright, we can mourn your ego another time, the manager is out there, let’s go!” Emily opened the tap water and washed her face, trying to fully get back to a normal state. 

Ten minutes later they walked to a nearby diner. Emily handed Dean her laptop as she ate a stack of pancakes which they had planned on sharing. Dean talked with the phone company and soon, they had the location of Sam’s phone. By the time Dean had closed the call, there were no more pancakes. “Dude.” He said. “Where are my pancakes?” 

Emily smiled mischievously and pointed to her belly. “Remind me to never share food with you anymore. You ready? Let’s go.” He took his jacket and they left. “Can I ask you something?” He said, entering the car. 

“Sure.” 

“What did you mean when you said Sam was ‘blocking you out’?” 

“You know our weird, psychic powers? Well, sometimes we like- feel each other's emotions. It's weird, it happened back in Portland when he got attacked and- it looks like it only happens when they are strong emotions. And all those things Sam said… he wasn't feeling any of them.” 

“So he was either blocking you out or lying.” 

“Right.” Emily closed the door and Dean started the engine. “Dean, do you think Sam really went dark side or is there something else going on?” 

“I don't know, kid. But whatever it is, it ain't good.” He exhaled.

“Alright, we- where are we going exactly?” 

“Remember Jo?”

“No, not really.” 

“Ah, wait- I think you never met her. Well, she's a friend.” Emily looked at Dean pronouncing the word friend and raised her eyebrows.

“Is she a cute friend?” 

Dean got briefly distracted from the street to look at Emily, confirming her suspect. 

“Don't even think about it.”

“I'm not thinking anything.” She giggled. Dean dismissed her and kept driving. 

“I think he's in there.” Said Dean a couple of hours later pointing to a bar on the side of a lake.

“Dean, wait.” She stopped him from exiting the car. “Please, tell me what you think we're going against.”

“Well, I was thinking and- I think he might be possessed. I'll try to spray him with holy water, keep him in your sight and get ready to stop him if he tries to run, okay?”

“Kinda.” 

“What do you mean, kinda?” 

“When you say stop him you mean shoot him, right?” 

“If it comes down to that, yes.” 

“Dean-”

“You don't have to kill him, just slow him down. Can you do it?” Emily didn't answer, she just limited herself to staring in front of her. “Emily, we don't have time for this, can you do it or not?!” 

“I'll try.” She sighed, loading her gun. They approached the building and Dean didn't hesitate to kick down the door. Emily entered quickly after, gun ready. The second they entered the room, Sam grabbed something from a nearby pillar and turned around Jo. The object, which Emily quickly realized being a knife, swiftly landed very close to Jo's throat. 

“I begged you to stop me, Dean!” Said Sam, desperation painting his face. 

“Sam, just put the knife down.” Said Emily, walking at Dean’s side. He slowly approached Sam, reaching for something in his inside pocket. 

“I told you I can't fight it!” Said Sam. “My head feels like it's on fire, all right?!” 

“Sam, it really doesn't. I would know.” Intervened Emily. Dean glared at her, worried.

“What do you know about my feelings?!” Said Sam, pressing the knife harder on Jo's skin. “Who are you to tell me what's going on in here?!” He pointed at his head with his gun, not letting go of Jo. Dean stood where he was. “Kill me, Dean, or I’m gonna kill her.” He pointed back at Jo. “Please, you’d be doing me a favor!” 

“We’re not gonna kill you, Sam.” Said Emily, stern. She had walked very close to Sam and Jo. So close that Sam seemed very restless. She touched her back pocket, making sure she still had the holy water. 

“Of course you won’t! You don’t have the guts. But Dean does!” 

Slightly offended, Emily tried to keep in mind that Sam wasn’t talking, the demon was. She looked at Dean. He exhaled deeply, trying to maintain the calm. 

“What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? I thought you trained her, didn’t you?” Dean and Emily exchanged a look. 

Was that the “time to shoot him“ look? Or was it just a look? Emily tried to decipher Dean’s expression but all she could see was stress. 

“Sam, have I ever told you about the time I almost killed Dean?” Sam looked at her, confused. “It went more or less like this.” If Dean’s expression wasn’t very telling, she had to go on instinct alone. With a leap, she put herself between her and Jo and grabbed the wrist he was holding the knife with, pushing him away from his victim. Then, she quickly sprayed him with holy water. With a painful scream, he freed himself from her hold and looked up. As his eyes painted black, he started running and jumped out of a window. Dean hesitated for a second to look at Jo and Emily, but the latter was quick to gesture to him to go after Sam. He disappeared through the same window. 

The first thing Emily did was take off Jo’s gag. “Are you okay?” She asked, undoing the rest of the knots who were keeping her trapped. 

“I think I'll be okay. Was he possessed?”

“I’m pretty sure, yeah. Name’s Emily, by the way.” She set her free. Massaging her wrists, Jo groaned in pain. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily took a better look at Jo and coincidentally, a mild stomach pain got her. Jo nodded. 

“You good?” She asked. 

“What?” Emily caught herself staring at the girl in front of her. “Sure, uh- Let’s go find Dean.”

They went out the door and tried to reach the piers where Sam and Dean seemed to have run to. Jo tried to call Dean’s phone. “It's just going straight to voicemail.” 

“Damnit- DEAN!” Yelled Emily. “I swear to god-” She whispered. “If he’s dead I’ll bring him back just to slap him once more.” Jo’s expression quickly went from serious to amused, but just for a second. Then, she called him again.  

The faint sound of rock music reached Emily’s ears. She stopped walking and also stopped Jo, grabbing her shoulder. She signaled to not make any noise. After focusing on the sound, she sprinted towards a ramp that was going right into the water. At the end, completely drenched, was Dean. Emily tapped him with her foot just like she had done that same morning on the motel floor. “Dean!” She called. The man groaned, in pain, and sat back up. “What the fuck happened to you?!” She asked, removing some leaves from his hair he had picked up from the water. 

“Where's Sam?” He asked. “I don't know, he hasn’t come back for us. Dean, what happened?” 

“He shot me.” 

“He shot you?” 

“Am I speaking chinese?” 

“Alright, we can go after him later, let’s patch you up.” Dean refused the help Emily was trying to give him and tried to stand up by himself. She and Jo watched him fail. “You gonna let me help you, or…“

“Shut the fuck up.” He groaned. Emily rolled her eyes, looking at Jo, and she answered with an empathetic smile. The mild stomach pain arrived again. 

Maybe it wasn’t stomach pain, maybe it was butterflies. Not having the time to really think about what was happening in her stomach, Emily forced Dean up the floor and Jo helped her walk him inside the bar. 

Back inside, Dean sat down and Emily started working to get the bullet out of him. Jo helped her by passing her tools and by scolding Dean when he complained too much. 

“Stop being a baby!” Said Emily, about half way done. “And stay still.” 

Jo passed Emily a long pair of forceps after dunking them inside some whiskey. “Thanks.” She smiled. Dean scowled at her.

Emily held her breath and slowly entered Dean’s shoulder, trying to get a grip of the bullet. 

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this!” He said, flinching for the pain. Emily slowly backed out of his flesh, no bullet in sight. 

“I literally have one inch of metal in your shoulder. Do you really think this is a good time to move? Or make any sound? Good doesn’t mean painless.”

“Shut up and drink.” Jo passed Dean a glass of whiskey, which he drank immediately.  

“Count to ten, I’ll be in and out, okay?” Said Emily, putting a leg on Dean’s lap to keep him from moving. “Are you ready?” He reluctantly nodded. As promised, Emily entered his shoulder, grabbed the bullet and extracted it. The second it was out, she dropped it into a glass of alcohol. Dean exhaled. 

“Fuck, that hurt.” 

“If you keep complaining, next time I’ll do it with my bare fingers.” She started covering the wound. 

“Can I ask you guys something?” Asked Jo. Emily nodded, smiling. 

“Sure.” 

“I know demons lie, but ... do they ever tell the truth too?”

Emily looked at Dean, who had nothing for her but pain and disappointment. “I guess. Especially if they know it’ll mess with you. Why?” Emily stole Dean’s glass and took a swig of whiskey. She offered some to Jo. She refused. 

“Nothing. Doesn't matter.” She answered. “So do you have any idea where Sam's headed to next?” 

“Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so…“ Said Dean. After trailing off, he looked at Emily. She finished patching up and released his leg, computing what he was trying to communicate. When she did, she jumped out of her chair. 

“Oh my god!” She said. “He’s going after Bobby!” 

Dean also stood up and grabbed his jacket. Jo did the same, but Dean stopped her. 

“You're not coming.” He said, as if it was an obvious fact, pointing at Jo. Emily scrunched her nose in disappointment. 

Why was she disappointed? 

She put her jacket on. 

“The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now.” Complained Jo.

“I can't say it more plain than this.” Said Dean, adjusting his shirt. “You try to follow me and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands.” He quickly left the building and Emily followed her, at the very last moment, she turned around. 

“See you later, okay?” She waved at Jo. She smiled back. 

She jogged after Dean, catching up with him and getting into the car. 

“What was that?!” He asked, turning on the engine. 

“What?” Emily put on her seatbelt, cluelessly looking at him.

“Thanks Jo, see you later, Jo“ He mocked. 

“I’m sorry…?” She said, even more confused than before. “Dean, what are you talking about?!” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be this kind to anybody.” 

”...and?” 

“What, you like Jo or something?” Emily shook her head and ignored his question. “Oh my god, you do!” 

“I don’t- shut up and drive!” She answered, nervous. “And even if I did… What are you, jealous or something?” 

Dean gazed at her, nervous as well. “I- shut up and- and be a passenger!”

Emily shook her head and went back to focusing on where they were headed to. She still didn’t really have time to process what was going on. Sam was possessed and he was going around killing hunters. She had been awake for almost twenty four hours, not able to catch an actual break. Dean had been shot and she was barely holding on to her last bits of calm. All she could do was hope Bobby would handle Sam until they got her.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 11x08 Just My Imagination

“We didn’t have to go that far east for this one” “very supportive” “What manual are they talking about? I want to know” “The RIE Manual? I don’t know what that is” “that’s a fuck load of glitter. That’d be a disastrous mess” “didn’t even notice that there was someone there watching you sleep?” “I want that cake. Idk what’s on it, but I’m assuming it’s a rainbow cake. Holy fuck I want a rainbow cake” laughter “i’m gonna get my gun” laughter “fkn robe and whatever the hell is on his feet” “there’s a dent!” “What do they call those sweaters? Cardigans?” “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone button a cardigan all the way down like that” “call you in a couple days??? Jesus” “The more you find out about John, the worst it gets” laughter

“He’s going to be so disappointed” “Wait didn’t he use Bert and Ernie, then use the term partner? Maybe they need to check their phrasing” “going to let 2 strange men dig around your daughter’s room?” “what’s the phrase? All that glitters is gold?” The internet says it’s all that glitters is not gold “this certainly is not gold” laughter “this is so ridiculous “ “that’s some crazy ass waterproof makeup dude” “Are they all in the same town or what?” laughter

‘Dude the hand signaling and whatever else. It’s almost too much” “I feel like they do a good job finding Dean children, but the Sam ones aren’t remotely close. No offense to the kids” “free will motherfucker” “how many thousands of graves have they dug up at this point?” “Oh, I get it. He’s not the dad. But it explains the mullet that looks like hair extensions.” “oh the girls’ running away! And it’s a beetle!” “wouldn’t the blood have dried by then?” “handprint” “Why did Dean call him acid-wash? Because of the pants? And if dudes who buy acid wash pants know they’re buying it?” laughter “what a fkn asshole” “Sam needs therapy” “Dude where the hell are the motels with this decor? Do you see the cows? It’s so bad that it’s timeless” “He got stabbed? And all he gets is a bandage and two pieces of tape?” “if he’s the answer to killing the Darkness, why wouldn’t the zanna help Sam do that?” “Is it Dark Charlie or something?” “Wait. Charlie died. That sucks” “Was Sully this guy’s dude as a little kid?” “how can she see the guy?” “oh we’re about to learn” “hey!” “still gonna need therapy” “add that knife to my collection” “whoosh” “engine purring” “whoever wrote the subtitles - holy shit”

[abarbaricyalp]

New Suit Goofin'

I just think Bucky is gonna feel a lot of ways about the new suit. Rated M

Bucky's life had been complicated since he'd been unceremoniously swept away from the fairly quiet existence he and Sam had carved out together. He worked for some pretty terrible people with some pretty weird people. He had more or less decided to double cross those terrible people as soon as he realized what the mission objective was. (Did they really expect him to willingly betray Wakanda and steal whatever vibranium this hodgepodge team could find?) And now he was chasing down a truly insane group of bad guys who called themselves the Serpent Society, like they were some bad fifties gang. Not because they were bad guys--why would government sanctioned heroes chase down bad guys when they could fuck over good guys--but because they maybe had access to someone who might be trading in something like vibranium. Bucky doubted this. They didn't seem capable of finding cough medicine in a pharmacy.

He crept through an old industrial building, ducking around the temporary walls that he assumed usually denoted working spaces. There was nothing here that would be useful to anyone. If the Serpent Society had ever been here, they had cleared out more effectively than Bucky thought they could. He was just about to send a message to the rest of his team when the whine of small engines stopped him.

The engines were winding down and then the careful crunching of footsteps followed. Bucky took a step back, preparing himself for whoever may be coming in from the other direction. It shouldn't be any of his team, but he felt like whoever it was was being too careful to be Serpent Society either. What could anyone else possibly want with a cold lead on these idiots? There was nothing in the building he could use to track the intruder, no reflective surfaces or security cameras, and he was running out of places to keep himself hidden in.

It was only by virtue of super soldier hearing and a bone deep realization of the breathing pattern he was hearing that Bucky realized who was coming around the corner and that kept him from throwing the first punch.

Sam Wilson did not have super soldier hearing. All he had was the too-late realization of who was in front of him and the widening of his eyes two milliseconds before his fist connected with Bucky's nose.

"Oh, Goddammit, Wilson," Bucky groaned, bringing his hands to his face as he bent in two, like he could cringe away from the pain.

"Bucky?" Sam asked like he still wasn't really sure he was seeing the man in front of him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Bucky, through eyes that were still watering, glared up at him. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked instead, voice nasally. And when he took an extra second to look at Sam, he added, "And what the hell are you wearing?"

Because Sam was in a dark suit that fit him like a glove. The world's sexiest glove. There was something about the dark wash of it, the mysterious air it gave Sam, the svelte cut off each part of it. It was thinner than the suit Bucky had helped design. There weren't as many extraneous adornments, not as much heavy kevlar. Red accents at his arms and shins cut an impressive cohesion, drew the eye along the perfect lines of Sam's body. There was no cowl, at least not that Sam was wearing, only his goggles, which he was pulling off one handed while the other reached for Bucky's face. And even though Bucky's face hurt, he let Sam touch it because there was probably no better remedy in the entire world.

"I leave you alone for a few months and you defect to a super villain group?" he teased, though his voice was impossibly soft.

"What are you wearing?" Bucky repeated, because he was still very much stuck on the fact that Sam looked so damn good in a suit that Bucky did not design. "I leave you alone a few months and you throw out all my gifts?"

Sam looked down at his suit, passing his fingers over the silver flying star on the chest. "Needed something subtler."

"You don't have a subtle bone in your body," Bucky pointed out. "No suit is gonna help."

Sam's eyes lit with a retort he didn't voice outloud. "What are you doing here?" he asked again. "I was joking about you joining the Serpents."

Bucky rolled his eyes and drew his hands away from his nose. The break would heal on its own and he had better things to do with his hands. Like run them over Sam's chest and the harness straps for the jet pack. Then down to the tight cut of his waist. "Does this have enough protection? It seems thin."

"Stop avoiding my question," Sam answered. "It has plenty of protection. Shuri helped."

"Shuri made this?!" Bucky asked in a strangled kind of way. "She helped with your betrayal?"

"Betrayal," Sam snorted. "You're so dramatic. It doesn't really seem like you're all that betrayed."

Bucky squeezed Sam's hip, just to prove his point, and then reached up for his comm piece and Sam's. He dropped them both on the ground and crushed them beneath his heel. "Now about getting a subtle bone in your body," he suggested with a grin.

Sam rolled his eyes, but he also grinned and let Bucky pull them flush together by the jetpack straps. "Oh, you think you're subtle?" he asked dubiously.

"I think I want that suit off of you," Bucky corrected. "The rest is sprinkles." He walked them back to the nearest cubicle wall and he was careful not to crash them through it as he tested their weight. Surprisingly, it held without even a groan of protest.

"We're working," Sam pointed out in that sexy growl he got when Bucky was pushing all the right buttons.

As desperately as Bucky missed Sam while they were split up like this--and as much as he hated his current job that kept him from Sam--there was something to be said for the fact that a little distance, a little tension, a little building up of desire had brought out several old habits from when they were crashing together every few weeks while one or the other of them was on the run. Bucky loved, more than anything, getting to wake up next to Sam and make breakfast or taxi kids around or haggle together at the farmer's market. He liked being Sam's back up during missions. He loved being partners in every sense.

But he also really liked this as a consolation. The accidental run-in's. The rush of frantically trying to eke out whatever pleasure they could steal from each other in bathrooms and dark halls. Abandoned buildings. And always, Sam would growl out something about surveillance or discretion or a time frame. And always the argument wouldn't work on either of them. They would kiss, needy and desperate and still so in love, and that would beat out any other circumstance. Including broken ribs on Bucky's part once.

Bucky broke first, pulling Sam's face to his and kissing him breathlessly. Breathless, mostly because Bucky's nose still wasn't working. If Sam considered that, he ignored it. His hands were on either side of Bucky's face instantly, and he aligned their bodies better while Bucky all but melted against him.

He put his hands on Sam's body again and groped at the material of the suit. It made Sam moan, which was great, but not actually what Bucky was going for. He was checking the elasticity of it, the give of it as he pinched a bit between his fingers. He could feel the same kind of micro-structures of the last suit, but Shuri had outdone herself in making this thin and movable.

And, God, Sam just looked so damn good in it. Bucky wanted his mouth all over it, all over Sam. He wanted to lay him out on the floor right here and drag his teeth over the star on his chest, lock Sam's boots behind his neck, figure out how such a thin material was containing Sam's perfect thighs. Figure out where all the hidden fastens were. If he pressed the star, would the suit retract into itself? Bucky had asked for that with the other one and clarified it was for injury purposes only when Shuri made a face and waggled her eyebrows at him. She'd said no that time, but hope springs eternal.

"See if I ever buy you expensive gifts again," he breathed against Sam's mouth while he squeezed part of the suit. The fact that he was also squeezing Sam's ass was coincidental.

Sam spun Bucky around so quickly, Bucky's head kind of went light. Sam was also wearing the fingerless gloves he was partial to, which Bucky only realized as his fingers passed through Bucky's hair once before moving it to the other side of his neck. The leather caught tantalizingly on his hair, brought the smell of Sam's lotion and sweat with it while his bare fingertips brushed over Bucky's neck.

"Do you like it?" Sam breathed against Bucky's pulse point.

"This?" Bucky asked weakly. He dropped his forehead to the wall. "Yeah, I love this."

"The suit," Sam corrected with a nip to the curve of Bucky's shoulder, just above the scarring, where only Sam was allowed to touch.

"It protects you," Bucky conceded. Then he lost his train of thought as Sam slowly ground against Bucky's ass. Bucky suddenly hated the bulky holster sitting too low on his hips.

"Thought about you when I was getting it fit," Sam continued. "The fact that it wasn't the one you designed. If you'd be mad. If you'd tear it off the first chance you got."

And, listen, maybe if it was uglier or Sam wasn't Sam and Bucky wasn't Bucky and they weren't deliriously into each other, then maybe Bucky would be more irritated. Unfortunately, this was ranking up there with the shimmery half-mesh suit Sam had worn to some fashion event and the ridiculously simple red swimshorts he wore to the beach for the best things he'd ever put on. In a few hours, maybe the irritation would set in. He had put thought into the design and the colors. There was symbolism in the white, thank you very much. It wasn't just about not being subtle. Purity and shit. A little bit that Sam was basically a Goddamm angel. And this suit still seemed lacking. It wasn't sturdy enough and without the cowl, Sam's had was exposed. These things would irritate him about the change.

But Bucky was not thinking about any of that. Not when he could picture Sam's dark silhouette pressing against him, with only his own gear and that suit that clung to Sam so perfectly between them, instead.

"Do want it off," Bucky groaned. He tilted his head to encourage Sam to keep kissing him. "Want it off so damn badly."

Sam pressed a series of scalding, open mouthed kisses down Bucky's neck, back to his fluttering pulse point. "It's not coming off, Barnes."

Bucky had an eloquent argument that amounted to 'hng' and a desperate press back into Sam's crotch. It earned him more wet, sucking kisses, but the suit remained on. "You know what, Wilson?" Bucky growled. And he felt the little shit grin against his neck. "I'll take it off of you."

Bucky turned in Sam's arms and Sam immediately took a step closer, slotting their bodies together from the chest down. "How are you gonna do that, Barnes?" Sam asked against his mouth. "Gonna lay me out on the floor and run your hands over every seam until you find a zipper?"

"Maybe I'm gonna tease you to the edge over and over again until you tell me."

Sam hummed and nipped at Bucky's jaw. "I don't break so easy."

"You've never had to face the Winter Solider," Bucky pointed out and then swept Sam's feet out from under him. He caught him of course--he'd have to have stopped touching Sam to let him fall and that wasn't happening. He straddled Sam's waist as they went to the floor and pinned one of Sam's arms by his head. "Now don't start swooning for me too soon, sweetheart."

Sam tilted his head back against the floor,a cool, defiant, teasing glint in his eyes while he still was opening himself up to Bucky in every other way. "I've walked away from the Winter Soldier twice," he corrected. "And I walk away from you plenty. You're the one with an addiction to me."

A low, pleased growl rumbled in Bucky's chest. He was entirely too enamored with Sam, it was true. "I think our addictions are just different flavors," he said. "You like me in my tac-gear. You like how I am when I'm wearing it."

Sam brought his free hand to Bucky's hair and pulled him down into a hungry kiss. Bucky really liked Sam like this too--eager and dangerous, throwing caution to the wind. It made him laugh when people assumed Sam was the level-headed one because Bucky felt like he was always grabbing the back of Sam's shirt to keep him from running head first into the action. Sam wasn't even very good at ignoring Bucky's goading in the instances where it was Bucky wanting to do something stupid.

Like stripping each other down while they each had teams waiting on them right outside.

"Come on, Sam. Give me some kind of hint," Bucky urged, ducking his head to kiss Sam's neck. "Let me ride you in your lap, look at you in this fucking suit."

"You just want me to ruin it," Sam breathed, holding Bucky's face close. "You wanna ruin it."

Bucky gasped in mock affront. "I would never. But, if it happens, oh well, you have another."

He didn't have to see Sam to know he was rolling his eyes. "I'm not taking off my clothes." He pushed Bucky back until he could reverse their positions, kissing Bucky into the floor as he fit his body against his. "And I'm not getting rid of this suit. You wanna know why?"

"Because it makes me want to take it off of you with my teeth?" Bucky hazarded. He draped his arms over Sam's shoulders and kissed him languidly.

"Nah. Because this is a Cap suit and I'm Captain America," Sam said against his mouth.

Bucky shivered in pleasure. "Yeah, you are," he agreed with a proud hum. "So I guess you should be telling me what to do."

Sam glanced back the way he came before pushing his hand under Bucky's shirt. "No way," he breathed. "I like you insubordinate."

Bucky grinned and pressed up into Sam's touch. "I can do that too, Cap. Which is a great time to say I think you should go back to my suit."

Sam kissed his dissension away.

[curlynerd]

Dean Winchester hates mornings.

It might have something to do with the four hours of sleep that precede them. Or perhaps the lingering memories of dragging a grumpy, petulant 12-year-old Sam out of bed for school when he was still an equally grumpy, petulant kid himself. Or maybe he just isn't wired to handle the early hours.

Whatever it is, Dean Winchester hates mornings.

And yet, he still wakes up early every day.

Drags his ass out of bed with a grumble and a sigh. Keeps his curses as quiet as possible so he doesn't wake Cas beside him. Scrubs at the sleep making his eyes gritty. Shuffles into a pair of pajama bottoms and his slippers with a disgruntled huff, like having to deal with the early morning chill is one of life's greatest inconveniences.

At the doorway, Dean pauses and looks back. Cas is still blissfully unconscious, his breathing slow and heavy and relaxed. The second Dean got out of bed he snagged all the blankets and cocooned himself in them, but by now his hand is out, searching for Dean so he can wrap his arm around him again. When it fails to find him, it curls around Dean's pillow. Cas buries his nose in it and lets out a tiny coo of contentment.

Dean smiles, his heart so full it aches. For just a second, he considers crawling back into bed with Cas. Succumbing to his hatred of mornings and going back to sleep with Cas nuzzled up against him like Dean is his personal teddy bear.

But he doesn't. He shuts the door behind him as quietly as possible and shambles down the hallway.

Dean's not quite firing on all cylinders without coffee in his system, so he bangs his shoulder on the doorway as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, and he swears a blue streak on his way to the sink. He's still grumbling under his breath as he grabs the lid of Sam's shaker bottle from the side of the sink and washes it with as much malcontent as he can muster. Sam always forgets to wash it when he rinses out his bottle, and Dean always has to clean it the next morning so Sam doesn't get yesterday's nasty protein shake crap mixed in with today's. He sets it beside the clean bottle and makes himself some coffee.

It's not long after the smell of fresh coffee fills the kitchen when Sam walks in, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and wearing running clothes like the health freak he is. "Hey."

Dean grunts in acknowledgement. Words are for after coffee. Sam starts making himself a protein shake without so much as a 'thank you' for cleaning his lid. Hell, he's probably not even aware Dean does it for him.

"Oh, can you do extra spinach in my omelette? Gotta use it up; it's getting kinda wilted," Sam asks on his way out the door, like it's a given Dean will make him an omelette. Because it is a given. Five people in the bunker and someone needs to make breakfast for them all. Might as well be Dean. "And tomatoes?"

"Yeah yeah, have it your way, Burger King," Dean grouses as he pours himself a mug of coffee. He dumps what's left and fills the carafe with more water.

"Awesome, thanks." And then Sam's gone off to do horrifying morning activities like jogging.

Dean, however, is doing something even more horrifying. He fills the coffee maker with pumpkin spice flavored coffee and grimaces. But God help him, Cas loves the stuff. And Dean loves Cas, so he'll make him some freakin' pumpkin spice coffee. Though this is the only point in the entire day when he questions his love for Cas. Just a little bit.

As nutmeg and cinnamon fill the air, Dean chugs his respectable cup of plain ol' dark roast and browses the contents of the refrigerator.

Blueberries. He should use those up too. Dean plucks them, some eggs, some butter, some milk, and all of the stuff for Sam’s atrocious vegetable omelette from the fridge.

Jack comes shuffling in while Dean is mixing up blueberry pancake batter, looking sleepy but chipper. He looks even happier when he sees what Dean’s cooking. “Excellent timing! Chop Sam’s tomatoes for me,” Dean commands before Jack even has a chance to say a ‘good morning!’ or grab some juice. The coffee is finally kicking in and dragging him into full wakefulness, but the patient parts of Dean’s brain don’t come online until at least 9am.

Eileen isn’t far behind Jack, but she takes one look at Dean with his spatula and Jack at the cutting board and immediately backs out of the kitchen. “Sorry! Dunno what you’re saying!” she shouts as she retreats, as if she expected Dean to try calling out orders after her. “I’m gonna shower!” Dean sighs and shakes his head. Probably for the best. She handles produce and a chef's knife the same way she does with vampires and a machete.

“Hello, Dean. Jack.” Cas drags himself into the kitchen with half-open eyes. His sleep-rough voice is adorable. The wild shock of hair standing up on one side, even moreso.

“Mornin’ Sunshine!” Dean croons at full volume, like he does every morning, because he’s kind of an asshole and secretly likes the way Cas scowls at Dean’s energy as he makes a cup of his terrible pumpkin spice coffee.

Cas comes up behind Dean and rests his chin over his shoulder to watch him cook, like he’s too tired to even bother holding up his own head. Dean has to be careful how he moves his arm so he doesn’t burn himself on Cas’ hot mug, but he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t one of his favorite parts of the day. Cas tucked up against his back, sleep hazy and warm from their shared bed, those beautiful blues blinking owlishly as Dean makes food for their family.

“Sure you don’t want any?” he asks, pointing down at the griddle even though he knows the answer already.

“No, too early to eat,” Cas grunts by his ear. “Coffee is enough. It smells delicious though.” He tilts his head down to press a gentle kiss to Dean’s shoulder before he pulls away to slouch down in a chair and finish waking up.

By the time Dean finishes breakfast, Sam and Eileen have filtered in too, completing their packed table. For a brief moment it’s utter chaos as everyone grabs plates of food and cutlery and coffee and juice, but before Dean can blink everyone is settled, chowing down on their breakfast or quietly drinking their awful flavored coffee. Dean lets out a weary sigh and sinks down into a chair next to Cas with his own stack of pancakes. It’s way too early to feel this tired.

Almost immediately Cas tilts sideways until he’s using Dean as a headrest again. "I don't see how you can stand getting up so early," Cas says around a slow sip of his coffee. He closes his eyes in appreciation and hums softly.

Dean glances around the table. At Sam, his overly long hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, scrolling through his phone as he shovels egg white omelette into his mouth like he's starving for it. At Eileen, a pleased grin on her face as her closed fist moves in a circle in front of her, her thumb pointed down over her stack of pancakes. At Jack, watching her intently as she teaches him a new sign, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth until a bite of pancake falls off it and smacks onto the table, making Eileen laugh.

At his family, fed and caffeinated and content, ready to start their days because Dean took the extra time to get things off on the right foot.

"I dunno," Dean says with a shrug as he passes Jack the bottle of syrup. He grins. "I kinda like mornings."

[highdramas]

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before? 

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

[fortuositywritings]

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all. 

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow. 

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong. 

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous. 

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says. 

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff. 

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him. 

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside. 

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder. 

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks. 

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing. 

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves. 

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh. 

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends. 

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks. 

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end. 

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round. 

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone. 

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night. 

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand. 

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke. 

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face. 

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch. 

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.” 

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you. 

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow. 

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. 

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach. 

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands. 

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything. 

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos. 

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after. 

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

[buckybarnesdiaries]

cut my hair

© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky asks you to cut his hair because he thinks you prefer it short.

word count: 911 words.

warnings/tags: none. just bucky being all shy and cute.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Your phone dinged with a notification, sitting up on the sofa while pausing the movie you were watching, you took the device to read the message.

bucky b: sorry

bucky b: you busy?

A shy smile appeared on your face, unlocking it with your fingerprint to reply.

you: not really

bucky b: can you cut my hair?

Your grin widened at his words, typing a yes before jumping from the sofa to clean the mess your apartment was. He didn't live too far from you, maybe five or ten minutes walking, and you were needing a miracle. Fastly as you could, you threw the leftovers from last night still on the coffee table and cleaned the dishes in the sink. Afterward, you took a quick shower —almost dying in the attempt—, wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt at the speed of the light.

The doorbell rang and your heart stopped at the thought of being alone for the first time since Sam introduced you. You served with him and kept in touch after coming back to New York. He was always teasing you about the supposed way the other soldier used to look at you or how his brain seemed to collapse whenever you focused the main conversation on him. Bucky was a sweet and kind man. A gentleman to be more precise. Although he was timid and quiet, you understood it by the horror he went through throughout his life.

You opened the door to not make him wait for much longer, not sure of how to greet the soldier to not make him feel uncomfortable. You stretched your right hand towards his to shake his and Bucky giggled automatically. He was aware that you wanted him to not think about the kind of person he was in the past, trying hard to erase that hell from his head when you were together. And he couldn't help but fall in love with you. In the way you used to treat him, in the way you showed real interest for him and not for his alter ego.

“What's up to you?”

“Sam told me you could… do a great job with my hair?” He didn't sound convinced, but because Bucky didn't want to bother you.

“Yeah! That's what I do for a living”. You shrugged, letting him walk into your apartment.

“I will, uh… I will pay you”.

“No, you won't”. The laugh escaped your lips lively after the firm affirmation, as you shook your head and closed the door.

“I will leave”.

“Who said I'm gonna let you go?” You squinted at Bucky, resting your back on the main door. “Why do you wanna cut it?”

Curiosity was second nature to you and you felt more interested to have a response as soon as he put his gaze away from you. Bucky wanted to do it for you. Not looking for some kind of acceptance, but wanting to captivate your attention. One of those nights you hung around with Sam and he asked you how your day was, you talked about a guy with long hair that was a little disgusting. The guy. Not his hair. Bucky misunderstood your words and thought you didn't like men with long hair. He loved his, but he was willing to change it for you.

“I, uh…” You watched him rubbing the back of his head, shrugging his shoulders.

He didn't want to tell you. He felt stupid and he was about to leave, ready to grab his jacket until you spoke. “I like it”.

Three simple words provoked one of his half-smiles, showing you his two main upper incisors. You loved that gesture on him since the first moment you saw it.

“Do you?” His tone of voice came in a low breathing, keeping his hand on the headrest of the chair.

“Listen to me now”. You whisper bringing together your fingertips, resting the index ones against your mouth. “I'm gonna say it just one time and I'm gonna pretend I've never said it, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Like… professionally speaking”. You excused yourself puckering your lips.

“Professionally speaking”. Bucky repeated, gently waving his hands totally agreeing.

“I'd spend all my life running my fingers through your hair”.

“Professionally speaking”.

“Professionally speaking”. You nodded, barely shaking your head.

The silence got installed indoors your apartment for a few seconds. He seemed thoughtful, toying with the possible replies to your confession.

“So, uh... you don't have to… cut my hair. You could just… wash it and run your fingers through it?”

“That'd be very professional”.

“Oh, yes… Yes, of course! Definitely”. Bucky affirmed imitating your gesture with his head. “And, y'know, you said so... I won't pay you, but… I could maybe take you out for lunch. To compensate you”.

“That wouldn't be very professional. It's not like I care, tho”. You giggled, rubbing your left eyebrow with a nervous gesture.

“It's up to you”.

His whisper as he bowed his head down a little, looking at you through his eyelashes, was responsible for your incredulous laugh, couldn't help but walk closer to the soldier.

“Puppy eyes, Sergeant? Really?” You scoffed, palming his chest biting your lower lip.

It was the first time you heard him cackle effortlessly, laughing because he wanted to.

“I'll do it only because I'm hungry”.

“Not because you want to run your fingers through my hair”.

“Absolutely not”.

“Who said I want?”

“It was… just an impression I had”.

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