#poor sam is so easy to pick on

[doctorwhoarchive]

so I know some people hc that Kirby’s parents used to babysit Sam and Tara right

so what if they babysat them for a long time like since Sam was a baby

and Kirby, being 4 years older than Sam, remembers some stories and stuff of little Sam that not even Sam herself remembers

now imagine the core 4 + Kirby together having a good time and vibing when out of nowhere Kirby decides to be a menace and bring up the absolute most embarrassing story of baby Sam she can think of just to piss her off and make everyone else laugh

[faeriekit]

So, in the spirit of causing problems on purpose, I wanted to share a new idea with you that I just had:

Young/“warm” ghosts have very large cores. As they get more settled into their Obsession, their core condenses. The smaller the core, the older the ghost, etc.

One day, Danny gets really hurt, and he runs off to heal. Pick your favorite headache victim to find him, and boom! Suddenly they have a goddamn ostrich egg to watch over!

Got that? Great!

Now imagine all of Danny’s frenemies turning the world upside down, trying to find a fucking marble.

This reminds me of the flour bag episode ouhdsfohsdoih poor Valerie 😂

Just—

Sam and Tuck find the baby sling they used for their flour bag assignment and reluctantly put themselves on BabyWatch, babysitting a giant pearlescent-blue glass blob of a bestie, who weighs a ton when he's asleep by the way. They look absolutely bizarre doing it ("Hasn't that assignment been over? ...Since, like, Freshman year?") but they're reallyreallyreally hoping no one's paying too much attention at, uh, how cold the room gets, his weird spherical shape, the emf readings from the classroom ghost sensors...

Meanwhile. Val, who poofed him, is losing her shit. Where the fuck is he?!?!! Research says he should be like the size of her thumbnail but he can't be that small that she can't find him?? Hello?? Did she— Did she lose him in the grass??? Cut to a montage of Red Huntress furiously tidying up the grassy knoll she had just been fighting Phantom in because he has to be somewhere!! Right?!

Meanwhile:

Vlad hears that Valerie has his little Badger poofed, and is old enough to have no idea how large a warm newdead ghost would be— Wait, he should be able to find the boy first and keep him captive! Obviously now is the time to get a jump on the boy— Why can't he find Phantom, this shouldn't be so hard—

And the vultures hear it from Vlad, and hey! If they find that little marble, free lunch! Now all they have to do is find the thing...why can't they find the little sucker...

And Skulker hears it from the vultures. It would be so easy to skin the half-ghost. As soon as he finds it.

...Where is it.

Skulker leaks the news to Ember who gossips with Kitty who reports to Johnny, and suddenly there's a hunt for a baby-blue glass bead both in the Infinite Realms and in the human world (because not everyone got all of the memo, exactly.) And someone should have found it by now. Someone ought to have found Phantom by now.

Is he...is he actually gone?

Meanwhile, Sam and Tucker are incorporating the equivalent of Danny's comatose body into their art project so that they can have him on them at all times at school without anyone thinking of it. Or. Well. Have anyone thinking too much of it. He makes a very pretty centerpiece. They might even get a B on it! High five!

👻*time skip* 👻

Danny wakes up two weeks later dazed, confused, nauseous, and covered in hot glue and craft stickers.

[thetravelingtyper]

On the same page...(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader Bookshop! AU) pt 1

After a disastrous breakup, you, an American author, escape to a little London bookstore with your best friend. However, when one patron takes a certain interest in you, you wonder if your story has been finished after all...

Part 2

“You used to get it in your fishnets

Now you only get it in your nightdress

Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness

Landed in a very common crisis

Everything's in order in a black hole

Nothing seems as pretty as the past though

That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco

Remember when you used to be a rascal?”

Smooth lyrics picked with a bass line and beats in on the radio, your ears perked up and catching the beginning of fluorescent adolescent you sighed. The song wasn't helping your down mood and you pick up your phone, ignoring the 10+ missed calls from your ex, and changed the song. After shuffling for a moment another piercing ring lit up your phone.

God leave me alone!

You sigh to yourself and toss your phone back on the counter of the bookstore as the door rings, announcing a customer. Your eyes flick to the door as a tall man enters. Lightly buzzed hair looks soft in the light and you catch yourself staring a little and he grins at you. You welcome him in and he nods then heads towards the history section. You watch how he carries himself. Strong and steady with a soldier's confidence. You think a little about it, the strength those arms carry before your phone rings again...

Your hand flies to your phone and you finally silence the poor thing, the buzzing remaining like a dying animal, a fit allusion to your past relationship. You remember the glittering smirks of the ladies and your fiance's grin, eyes shadowed with greed as you stood in a winning dress. The bastard ruined your image and your future with one moment, pulling the girl to him for a steaming kiss. Flashes of lights as the crowding press pushed past you and left you in the dark.

Glittering lights turned to stars as you left the gala alone, pushing the cheating bastard and your ‘friends’, truthfully venomous colleagues, to the back of your mind. You had gotten back home to your flat, packed everything you could, and kicked it to stay with a friend. You could imagine the headlines. “Downbeat author loses job and life!” You groan wipe a hand down your face and force yourself into the present.

You stand and shift your weight from foot to foot. It was a practice Sam had taught you when you both first moved out. His extended family was in the publishing business and owned a bookstore in London proper with an attached apartment on top. It was easy for him to steal his best friend away and across the pond for a new life chasing words through the drizzly streets of London.

Put yourself in the current moment, and learn to reset yourself if needed!

His warm voice rings in your ears and you smile, stretching and taking stock of the current moment. It was currently 5:36 on a Thursday, it was the middle of February so it was cold outside, currently not raining but cloudy. If you look you can see covered strangers pass back and forth outside the windows of the bookshop.

It had been a few months since you settled in but they were full of meeting Sam’s family and getting your writing career back on your feet. After the shame of the breakup, you had taken an extended break from writing. However restful for you, your manager was insistent on getting a book finished by the middle of the year, or year's end at worst. So you dutifully spent your time manning the bookshop and writing when you could bear to. But every time you opened that blank white screen you grimaced, seeing...

A large thunk on the counter makes you jump. Your eyes and mind darting back to the present.

“Aye sorry lass.” A thick Scottish voice apologizes and you catch first his smile, he's teasing.

You shake yourself out of it and reach over the counter to grab at his book, A History of Military Maneuvers.

“You certainly chose some dense reading material,” You quip at him as an easy smile lights up your face as well. You take the book and bag it, mentioning the price as he passes you a card.

“It's not too bad when you live it.” He explains simply. That would explain the physique.

“Did you serve?”

“I did once, not anymore. Took one too many and it put me on the sidelines. I found quieter work around the city.” He says it calmly but you catch his hand and rub his shoulder. It seems a sore spot for him. You think of your career back in the States and frown.

“I don’t blame you,” a hurt passes over your eyes. Your writer's brain latches onto his character. He seemed to enjoy part of his career, but you can see the injury in your mind's eye now, one moment normal then the next some career-ending injury.

“What do you do? I've seen you in the store before.” He brushes a hand through his hair a little ashamed.

You raise a brow,

“Been watching have you? I am an author back in the States for your information, Mr…?”

He grins at you and offers his hand across the counter,

“John, John MacTavish but my friends just call me Soap.”

You return his handshake. His hands are rough and completely engulf yours, a fact that makes your heart skip a beat at the realization.

His phone then rings and he pulls away from you to check it. 

“I got to get this love, but it was nice finally putting a name to the face. I'll be seeing ye around.”

With that Soap takes the bag and makes his exit into the cold evening. With his departure, you feel your spirits lift. Maybe, you think flexing your hand, there is a story to be written after all.

[doudouneverte]

Worried Moms

a/n: hey it's my first request, i hope you'll like it. I loved to write it.

*not my GIFs*

WandaNat x adoptive!daughter!reader; Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff; Avengers x teen!f!reader

Request: And I do have something to request if you feel comfy doing it. Mom!Wanda and Mama!Nat with the reader as their daughter. Reader gets sick and tries to hide it and push through it but they end up fainting or something like that, cue to mama bears mothering her to health. (Idk if fainting can be considered a trigger but if it's for you, I'd gladly read the fic with whatever you have in mind.). [Request by @darkstar225]

Summary: You're sick but you have to hid it from your moms because you want to go in mission, unfortunatly for you and Sam everything don't go well.

Type: Fluff

Warning: maybe 'fucked up' use three time

word count: 1319

--------

You awoke with a headache; it was unusual for you to become ill since gaining your powers. You didn't know if it was a bad thing, but you had to hide it; the next week, you'll go on a mission, but first you have to get your moms' approval. They said they would think about it if you managed to survive your training session. Easy, no? The rest of the day, your state was getting worse, but because you successfully hid it from an ex-assassin and a witch who could read your mind (even if she didn't do it without your consent), you could handle it a little longer.

The next day, otherwise, at the time you woke up, you thought you could die; if it was a cold, it was the worst you ever had. But you didn't really have the time to think about it; you checked your clock: 9 a.m., which meant you had one hour before the start of your training session. You decided to take a hot shower; it was helpful for the next 40 minutes. Today you were paired with Sam to upgrade your hand-to-hand combat skill. At first it was like usual, but suddenly your breath hurt your lungs. You stopped and tried to process what was happening, but Sam punched you in the face. It wasn't a strong punch; he restrained himself, but due to your poor condition, you fell on the training ground with your eyes closed; you were knocked out. When your body hit the ground, everyone in the room froze. There was silence until Sam kneeled next to you and asked, "Y/n? Y/n, are you all right?"

Obviously not, but you didn't mind that he couldn't think clearly. To be honest, no one could; the Falcon picked you up from the floor and ran to the med bay, followed by all the rest of the team.

"You're fucked up, Sam." Bucky said,

"I didn't do anything; we were training, and I just tried to punch her. "Usually, she'd dodge and hit me back," he defended himself.

"But now she's knocked out, and the only person with her was you. FRIDAY, could you please call doctor Cho?" Steve asked the A.I.

"It's done, Mr. Roger," the IA confirmed, but the hero couldn't respond before FRIDAY spoke again. "Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Maximoff are back."

There; he was fucked up. On their way to the kitchen, the two redheads found Helene, who was in a hurry and bumped into the shorter woman. "Sorry Natasha, I didn’t look where I was walking,” she apologized, and the Russian nodded.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, but you seem in a hurry, so we will not restrain you more.” She said and stepped aside to let the doctor resume her course. Wanda just had the time to put the bags on the counter when FRIDAY spoke.

“Mrs. Maximoff, Mrs. Romanoff, the doctor needs you in the infirmary right now.” The two women exchange a confused look before heading to where they were called. In front of the room, the witch felt a wave of fear and sadness, and she started to worry. Of course, Nat noticed and grabbed her hand before they walked into the room.

Their eyes widened when they saw you in the bed; they rushed to you before any of them could say anything Sam explained what’s happened. “How couldn’t you notice she was not like usual?” the Russian yelled at him, and nobody found the courage to defend him.

Wanda approached you and cupped your cheek. "Don't worry, dragă (darling), she's fine," the Sokovian assured her, and Helen spoke up.

"Don’t worry, Natasha I just got the results from the test, and it seems she just has a cold.” The doctor reassured her, and the ex-assassin seemed to be more calm. “She just needs to rest for a week. I’ll give you some medicine in case she needs it after she wakes up.” Everyone except your mothers left you after your mothers nodded.

After two hours, you awoke. You were surrounded by two worried redheads. “Hey, you.” you said softly.

“Hey, you.” Wanda said, and Natasha gave you a soft smile. “How are you feeling?” the witch asked you.

“Like I collided with a bus, but he was moving. But I think I'm okay," you said, looking around and raising your brows. "Where am I?" you inquired.

“In the infirmary,” the Black Widow said this time, “we were really worried about you when Sam told us what’s happened.”

You sighed “I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Since when?” Wanda asked, and her wife looked at her confused. “Since when have you been like this?” she added.

“Yesterday.” You admitted it shyly.

“Yesterday!?” the older woman loudly repeated, and you nodded. “Why did you hide it from us?” She inquired, a little concerned about her failure to notice it earlier.

You played with your fingers to try to erase your anxiety, “because you said you’d let me go with you if I finished the training session. And I wanted to make you proud of me, and show you I was ready. So, I forced myself to not let you know and not think about it when I was near Mama.” You paused a moment, saying, "I'm sorry if it makes you worry," and some tears found their way into the corner of your eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Nat cupped your cheek and brushed your tears with her thumb. “It’s okay; we’re a little worried, but it’s okay; we’re not mad or anything. You don’t have to cry, malyshka (baby girl)” their eyes were wet too.

You were about to speak again when a red whip lifted you. The scarlet magic tickled you “We can’t stay here, and you have to rest.” The witch said, and you laughed, “What is so funny?” She gave you a falsely curious look.

“It-haha…it’s tickling me.” You barely said and before you could notice she lend you on your bed. ‘Thank you,” you said, and they gave you a kiss on both cheeks before heading to the door. “Where are you going?’ you asked.

“We must cook you something. We’ll not let you like that.” Wanda said before they left the room. In the kitchen, everybody was waiting for the two women to give an update.

“How is our little fireball?” Tony asked.

“Much better,” Wanda replied, “she just needs rest. We put her in her bed, and we’ll cook something, so she’ll eat before sleeping again.” She explained, and after that, Natasha hit Sam’s head.

“What was that for?” he asked, a little scared.

“You hit our baby girl.” the Russian replied; “you’re lucky Wanda didn’t throw you away earlier,” she added, and the atmosphere changed. “And for the mission, I think we will let you go. We will stay with Y/n. I’ll text Fury.” She explained, nobody found any reason to argue; they know how much they love you, so it's obvious they’ll never let you alone in this condition.

You spent the next week in your bedroom, surrounded by your moms’ love; you couldn’t leave your bed without one of them following and making sure you were okay. Sam was not allowed to approach you for a month. It was pretty funny, and after that, he spent two months making sure you forgave him, even if you assured him it was not his fault.

This little incident proved how much they loved you, and of course you were glad even if you already knew that. You adored them just as much as they do.The world knew how scary the Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch were, and Sam could approve. But the world didn’t know how lovely and careful they could be, between them, of course, but twice as much with you.

[literaryavenger]

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Summary: The Avengers meet the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I was just thinking how it might go if the Avengers met the Guardians of the Galaxy. It started with the reader cooing at Groot and Bucky being jealous and this is what came out, lol, hope you like it! Needless to say, this doesn't follow the MCU timeline, like basically all of my other stories. Don't ask me how Thor knows the Guardians, the bitch just do. I also just needed Bucky fluff, like always, and I'm really happy how it turned out! Like always I appreciate asks and messages and am always up for it if you have any ideas.

Masterlist

By this point you’re very aware that there’s life on other planets, that the universe is a place much bigger than you ever imagined. Working with the Avengers allows you to see so many things that you never thought could possibly even exist.

Super soldiers, superheroes, enhanced individuals, even Thor himself is a demi-god from literally a different planet.

This particular demi-god is the reason why today you and the rest of the team find yourselves in the common room of the Avengers Compound, a spaceship casually parked in your yard.

They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Nebula, Drax and Mantis, literal aliens currently bickering amongst themselves because they came to earth to visit Thor the wrong day, resulting in Thor not being home for their arrival.

"Is that a plushie?" you ask, a little confused, pointing at a little teddy bear-like thing on Quill’s shoulder and effectively ending their search for who is at fault for their mistake.

He looks even more confused than you and asks "What the hell is a plushie? This is Groot, he’s a Flora Colossi."

You decide, for my own peace of mind, to ignore the latin and instead focus on the cute little thing on his shoulder who is now moving and looking at you weirdly.

"I am Groot." he says in the cutest voice ever.

"Oh my god, you're just adorable!" You say, reaching your finger out for him to hold, freaking out at his cuteness.

"I remember when you used to talk to me like that…" you hear Bucky mumble behind you, which makes you laugh and, with your attention still completely on Groot, you tell him "God, you really are a needy bitch, Barnes." at which everybody laughs.

"Yeah? And you’re just a bi-"

"Hey!" you basically yell, interrupting him and startling Groot.

"I’m kidding!" he quickly says, putting up his hands in defeat. With one last glare at Bucky, your attention turns back to Groot.

"I am Groot!" he says again.

"I know honey, you said that." you tell him.

"I am Groot." he says, yet again, at which Sam answers "Yeah, you’re Groot, got it."

Groot says "I am Groot." again and, before Sam can say something that you're sure is gonna be very rude, you turn to the Guardians and ask "Why does he keep saying that?"

Rocket is the one to answer "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to I and am and Groot. Exclusively in that order."

His answer leaves you all a little dumbfounded but again, for your own sanity, you all seem to decide to let it go.

Instead Bruce asks "So how do you understand him?"

"We speak Groot." Nebula says like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you speak ‘Groot’ if he says literally the same three words, in the exact same order, in the same way every time?" Tony asks, starting to get a little frustrated, probably because the genius can’t do something that seems to come really easy to a bunch of space idiots.

"We manage." Quill simply says.

At this point Groot reaches his little hands towards you, signaling that he wants to be picked up, so, before Tony can make any sarcastic comment, you look at Quill and ask, excitement clear on your face "Can I?" while pointing at an awaiting Groot.

"Sure." He says, and you very carefully pick him up and put him on your shoulder.

"Be careful not to move too fast, he’ll hold onto your hair for dear life." Gamora warns you.

"Noted." you say giggling a little when Groot sticks his tongue out to Gamora, then she does the same to him, making everyone else laugh too.

"Buck, look how cute he is." you coo at Groot who's playing with your finger.

"’s not that cute…" he says quietly but you hear him, and apparently so does Groot because he says "I am Groot." in a very annoyed tone that prompts a chorus of whoas and protests from the guardians.

"The acorns on you, kid!" Quill says, and everybody just knows he said some really bad words to Bucky.

"Who even taught you that word?!" Rocket sounds like an exasperated parent.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean, Drax taught you?! WHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT?" 

"The small tree asked." Drax says unbothered.

"Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to teach him dirty words!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's really common sense, Drax." Gamora interjects, calmer than Rocket.

"I am Groot."

"See, even Groot knows you don’t have common sense, Drax, that’s why he asked you." Quill says.

"I am Groot."

"I am not stupid, tree!" Drax glares at Groot.

"See, he’s not cute. He’s a disrespectful little shit!" Bucky says, also glaring at poor Groot.

"I am Groot." the guardians snicker, leaving the rest of you confused.

"What? What did he say?" you're too curious not to ask as Groot is now glaring back at Bucky.

"He said he doesn’t understand how a sweet person like you is with someone like him." Nebula translates, earning some gasps and snickers from everyone else too.

You look at Bucky trying hard not to laugh and he looks like he's about 5 seconds away from murdering Groot.

He takes a step towards you but Groot, still on your shoulder, makes the cutest little growl and starts flinging one of his arms around in Bucky’s direction, the other one holding to your hair so as to not fall.

"Oh, he’s ready to fight a bitch." you say unable to hold in your laughter any longer and the others follow you.

"What?" you turn around and Drax is giving you a confused look.

"What?" you say, calming down from your laughter.

"I do not understand. He does not resemble a female dog." he looks at Bucky and then back at you.

"He- I don- What?" you’re as confused as you’ve ever been, everybody else’s faces mirroring your own.

"His people are completely literal, he doesn’t understand metaphors." Rocket explains.

"Oh… fun." Tony says, still a little confused.

"Is it though?" you hear Gamora mumble, before Mantis starts giggling.

"It is!" she says with the joy of a kid on christmas morning.

"It’s really not." Nebula says casually, and from that the Guardians start bickering amongst each other.

You look at Groot who’s still on the warpath with Bucky and then at Rocket, the only one not saying anything.

He meets your eyes and simply says. "This is what I gotta live with."

"Oh, poor little racoon." you coo at him while laughing and that seems to stop the bickering.

"Hey, I am no racoon!" Rocket tells you defensively.

"I am Groot." Rocket groans and Quill snickers.

"Groot’s right, he’s a trash panda." he says knowing the people of earth will know why that’s funny.

Some of the Avengers laugh, but you gasp trying to hide your amusement for Rocket’s sake.

"You know, you might be right, Buck. He’s not that cute and innocent after all." you turn to your boyfriend, who gives you a slight pout.

"I’m cuter than him, right"- he asks you with those puppy eyes he knows make you melt.

"Aww, of course you are, baby." you give him a kiss on the cheek, almost forgetting about Groot on your shoulder until he talks again.

"I am Groot." the Guardians “aww” and coo at him but before you can ask, Mantis explains. "He says he understands now why you’re together."

"He says he can see how much you two love each other." Gamora finishes.

You smile at Groot and he smiles back before making the cutest yawn, looking at Bucky and doing grabby hands at him.

Bucky looks at you and you take his hand and guide it towards where Groot is, he’s uncertain but when Groot climbs on his hand Bucky looks almost like a little kid seeing a butterfly up close for the first time.

He brings Groot against his chest and the little tree gets comfortable and falls asleep almost immediately, while everyone else in the room coos at the two.

"This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen." you whisper, not wanting to wake up Groot, and Bucky looks up at you and flashes a smile bright enough to light up the whole of New York.

"I guess he is kind of cute." he says looking back down at Groot’s sleeping form, leaving everyone else snickering as quietly as they can, while he imagines how it would be to be like this one day with a baby that’s his and yours, and you can’t help but think the same thing.

Part 2

[mortalheartache]

Bloody Love

Sam Monroe has a knife kink… and a blood kink. You give him what he needs. (Requested by @zapernz 🤍)

Tags: Smut, NO Y/N, blood play, knife play, sub!Sam, dom!reader, consumption of blood, degrading (slut, pathetic), use of “good boy”

Word Count: 0.62K

─── ⋆⋅ ☆ ⋅⋆ ───

Dragging the knife along his pale skin, you watched the little beads of blood appear in the knife’s wake. Sam squirmed under you, lowly whining.

“You wanted this, no? So shut up and take it.” You sneered at him, punctuating your words by increasing the pressure of the blade along his collarbone slightly. You reached your free hand down to his cock, not missing how it twitched as you dragged the knife further down his body.

You gave the base a little squeeze, and Sam moaned pathetically. Lifting the knife from his flesh, you removed your free hand from his throbbing dick and ran your fingers along the blood pooling along his collarbone, then brought your fingers to your mouth, sucking the blood off of them. He looked at you in surprise that quickly morphed into some fucked up kind of lust. His pupils were blown wide, and his chest heaving as he panted.

Smiling at him, you dipped down to lick the blood off of his body, twisting one of his nipples sharply then toying with the barbell through it. He cried out and squirmed further, but quickly stopped when you brought your mouth to his, his own blood still on your tongue. His response was borderline pitiful as he lapped the blood from inside your mouth, the metallic taste making his face twist up briefly.

You sucked on his tongue and brought the knife up to his throat, pressing the cold steel against it. His mewls were music to your ears as you kept the blade flush with his skin, but didn’t draw blood. Pulling away from his mouth, a thin string of red-tinged saliva connected your lips to his pink, kiss-swollen ones momentarily before breaking and falling onto his chin and labret piercing.

You kept the knife steady and moved your hand back to his cock, smearing the precum from his twitching tip along the shaft, his moans getting higher in pitch every time you touched his poor dick.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You’re getting off on me putting a knife to your throat and making you swallow your own blood. Disgusting.” You muttered to him, his cock jumping in your hand. You snickered at him, lips curling into a cocky smile.

“Fucking pathetic.”

His blissed-out face was angelic as he struggled to form words, groaning at the feeling of the knife’s pressure increasing as he tried to speak.

“P- Please let me cum. I’ll be so- so good, I promise.” He whined, looking into your eyes and searching for your mercy. He was so gorgeous, who were you to deny him.

Without warning, your furiously pumped his shaft, biting your lip to hold in a moan as you felt the velvety skin in your hand. He almost screamed at the sudden stimulation, trying his best not to writhe so as not to injure himself on your blade.

“C’mon baby, you asked for it.” You taunted, picking up the pace on his dick, swiping your thumb over the tip periodically. His hips lifted, bucking into your hand violently as he whined. His dick twitched more and more and his thrusts into your fist got shakier, a sign he was moment away from cumming on your hand.

You pressed the knife harder against his throat while you squeezed him, and he came undone deliciously easy, almost screaming in relief. His eyes welled with tears at the sensation, and he babbled a string of “thank you”s and “oh my god”s, interspersed with expletives. His cum painted your fist as you jerked him through his orgasm.

You removed the knife, setting it on your bedside table.

“You’re such a good boy, taking that for me. What a pretty slut.” You cooed at him.

──────────

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A/N - Thank you for reading, I hope you all liked it! More dom!reader to come teehee, and more Sam content as well!! xx

@jadegmfu @fuckmyskywalker

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skelly learns their kid needs glasses because kid called another skeleton dad (said 'other skeleton is similar in shape) extra points if the 2 skeletons don't like each other lol

Heya I'm back! Did you all have a fun Christmas?

Undertale Sans - That's fine. He totally didn't get offended when you ran past him to run in Red's (Underfell Sans) arms and watched helplessly as Red played along, looking him straight in the eyes. Someone is going to find dog poop in front of his house later today.

Undertale Papyrus - I mean, it's ok, he's confusing himself with Delta (Disbelief!Papyrus) every day as well, he's not mad. It's easy to mistake them all together. Delta feels like the chosen one right now, so Papyrus lets him have his fun.

Underswap Sans - He huffs, annoyed the kid confused him with Nugget (Horrorswap Sans). He's not particularly mad at the other skeleton, but clearly, make an effort. He's missing an arm??? Nugget is just happy to have attention even though he looks very uncomfortable with the sudden hug. Please, help him.

Underswap Papyrus - His heart breaks in pieces as the kid runs past him to jump in Rus' (Swapfell Papyrus) hands. How can you do this to him? With this walking trash can out of all people?! Honey falls dramatically on the floor like a dead sea star. He's done.

Underfell Sans - He hisses at Dune (Dustale Sans) as the kid runs straight to him. The poor skeleton is so confused, not understanding what's even going on as he suddenly has a child in his arms. Oh well. If it comes to him, it's his. Red can only watch in horror as Dune blips in thin air with his kid. Uh oh. S/O is so going to kill him.

Underfell Papyrus - His jaw falls on the floor as his kid runs happily to Torpedo (Mafiafell Papyrus) and hugs his legs like it's a perfectly normal skeleton. Edge comes running, snatches his kid from him and throws himself at Torpedo's face to attack him lol. Torpedo is way stronger than he is though so it gets quite embarrassing when Edge has to flee, his kid above the head, chased by a very pissed-off mafia leader who swears he will end him before the end of the week.

Horrortale Sans - The kid runs straight to Sans. Oak looks at the scene, completely defeated. Welp. That happened. There's a long awkward silence between the two skeletons lol. I mean, Sans did nothing wrong, but, uh, he can guess why Oak feels hurt by this so much. He tries to defuse the tension with a joke, but Oak stays silent. Big boy is sad :(

Horrortale Papyrus - He's so confused when the kid runs to hug Chief (Horrorfell Papyrus), almost knocking the poor skeleton out of his wheelchair with their force. They look nothing similar???? Well, Willow is not (too) mad about this, since Chief is part of his dysfunctional family, but still. That was rude. He's pouting.

Swapfell Sans - He gasps loudly as the child runs and jumps in Wine's (Fellswap Gold Sans) arms, both from shock and offense. Wine is in shock as well actually. His eye sockets are entirely black. He just picks the kid by the hood, looks at them from head to toe and just "Ew." before pushing him back to their father. "EW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN EW?" Nox screams, enraged. Wine simply shrugs. The kid has the good idea to take a step back as Nox lunges at him to kill him as usual.

Swapfell Papyrus - He looks at Coffee (Fellswap Gold Papyrus) as his kid runs to him. Coffee looks in utter panic, not knowing what to do. Rus simply smiles at him. "Welp, you're the father now. Good luck." Rus then vanishes in front of his eyes as Coffee is asking if he's joking, then screams at him with more and more distress to come back lol. Rus is such a jerk.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's scandalized as his hair runs to that asshole of Sam (Farmtale Sans). How dare they?! He raised them and all of this for this? That's it. Wine is pissed off. He leaves like a drama queen, stomping the floor angrily, leaving the confused kid behind with the framer who gasps in shock when he realizes Wine is abandoning his kid. What the hell? Sam grabs him by his expensive jacket and throws him on the floor, asking what the hell is wrong with him. Wine growls back, hissing like a snake. Uh... Either of their brother better act quick because they are going to fight and none of them is willing to stop lol.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - The kid runs happily to Creeper (Mafiatale Papyrus) which makes Coffee, who ran after him, stop dead in his tracks. Uh... Coffee is terrified of that guy. He's not sure what to do now. He's too scared to go and ask the skeleton to please give back his child. So, uh... He's just staring, hiding behind a tree, slowly having a panic attack. Please? Help? Someone?

[doe-writes-stuff]

A/N - My love for the cowboy space dad, Sam Coe, has eclipsed to the point where I am now writing him fanfic...what a time to be alive, y'all. Anyway, enjoy the results of my brain rot, and let me know what you thought of it >.> More may be to come if he continues to plague my every waking thought

WARNINGS: Some angst on poor Cora's part, thanks to Lillian. Some Lillian bashing, thanks to reader. It's not specified if reader and Sam are fully together at this point in the story, but it's implied. Post 'Matters of the Hart' mission.

The bay of the Razorleaf slowly descended with a hydraulic hiss, finally clanking against the tarmac of a landing pad. From the bottom of the ramp, you watched as the dusty, endlessly sun-bleached landscape of Akira came into view. The first unfiltered breath of the atmosphere hit the back of your throat unpleasantly. How anyone tolerated such a low humidity every single day, you couldn’t guess. Akila was kind enough not to be a sweltering wasteland on top of it all, so…small victories there.

You’d not been much impressed with the sight of the planet the first time you’d landed on it, and it still gave no better impression now. Sand-swept walls and buildings rose from an equally monotone environment. It wasn’t hard to picture the planet might one day just swallow the city whole and leave nothing after to show there’d been civilization there. Perhaps through sheer stubbornness and pride, the Akila City citizens kept their place in the galaxy.

A long-suffering sigh and a set of muted footsteps approach from your right. Sam stops beside you and gazes across his home planet with equal apprehension. His arms cross and he levels his hometown’s ‘Welcome to Akila City’ archway a woeful stare.

“Never gets any easier…”

You’re not surprised by his reluctance to return home. A visit to Jacob Coe was never an occasion to celebrate, and this one would be particularly disappointing, given Sam would also be relinquishing his daughter to Lillian for that long-time-promised week vacation Cora mentioned every opportunity she could. You didn’t fault the almost-teen for being excited to see her mother, but it wasn’t hard to miss Sam’s lack of enthusiasm for the whole affair. He loved his daughter above anything else, and letting her go for such a length of time wouldn’t be easy.

This stop was a ‘two birds, one stone’ of all of Sam’s least favorite activities. His less-than-cheery mood was understandable, and you couldn’t help but share this feeling. After months of the inquisitive girl aboard your vessel, you’d gotten so used to the random questions and cringe-inducing jokes that the impending silence was admittedly quite daunting.

Akila just so happened to be the closest planet to where Lillian had finished up a month-long assignment. With the promise that she had time-off to spend, Sam had agreed to have the Ranger pick Cora up here, and it would ultimately be where you and Sam retrieved her after their time together. It ate the cowboy up inside, you could tell. But he kept quiet and put on a facade of support if only for Cora’s sake.

“I don’t see Lillian’s ship.” He added, sweeping his gaze past the entrance to the city and across to the other landing pads. Concern began to overtake the displeasure of being on Akila, and you could instantly follow where his internal thoughts were leading.

“We did get here earlier than planned.” You finally say, laying a calming hand on the man’s jacketed arm and earning his attention. It’s not like you were were defending the woman, but it was a little silly to assume anything when the Razorleaf had just touched down almost 2 hours before you’d agreed to rendezvous with the Ranger. You might dislike Lillian Hart, but you weren’t that petty. “Give it some time.”

“Yeah, yeah…you’re right.” After an affirming deep breath and a weary shake of his head, some of the tension in his shoulders eases. Some, but not all. “I’m just…not too optimistic about this.”

“I know.”

“She’s flaked before, and this one means a whole lot to Cora.” He went on, as if you weren’t already aware of the meaning behind it all. “I can’t help but worry she’s not gonna show.”

“We’ll handle that if it comes to it. For now, just take a breath.” You say, flashing him your best reassuring smile. Even he could tell it was a little forced, but he did return the gesture with a muted one of his own. At the very least, you made sure he didn’t have to face whatever might happen by himself.

Razorleaf’s airlock releases behind you, and Cora’s beaming smile leaves the ship before she does, her small suitcase of belongings in tow behind her. You’re willing to bet there are more books than there are clothes in there, but hey, you wouldn’t judge. She blunders down the ramp with an energy you’d never seen before, curls bouncing atop her head the whole way, finally coming to a breathless stop next to her father.

“Is she here yet?” She questions, eyes already darting around the spaceport before receiving an answer.

“Not just yet, string bean.” Sam gave her hair a good-natured rustle, smile regaining some of its warmth as he addressed his daughter. “I’ve got some business with your grandpa first, so we arrived a bit early. I’m sure she’ll be touching down soon enough.”

You don’t comment on the edge of uncertainty that accompanies that last part. And thankfully, Cora doesn’t ask to go with her father for a family visit. Sam always preferred her to be as far away from Jacob as possible. At some point, you assume Cora understood why, though she’d never directly voiced it.

Sam pats his daughter’s cheek affectionately. “I shouldn’t be too long. Y/N’s gonna keep you company until your mother gets here. Don’t you go anywhere until I get back to say goodbye, alright?”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

Cora gives an exaggerated little roll of her eyes, but her smile is ever-present. “I promise, dad."

“That a’girl.” He says, leaning down to place a gentle kiss against the top of her head. Then, his attention turns to you. “You two gonna be alright?”

“We’ll be just fine.” Is your reply, promising through unspoken word to keep Cora safe and sound while he was away. The reassurance is what he needed most, and you were more than happy to provide it. “We’ll make sure to have way more fun than you will.”

“Heh. Yeah, well…that won’t be too hard.” Sam’s head tilted a little, eyes squinting, already picturing the impending encounter with his own father. “I’ll comm you when I’m done.”

You wave your companion goodbye, watching him disappear past the protective walls of Akila City, then turn to the girl practically buzzing with excitement beside you. “We’ve got a bit of time to kill. So…where to first?”

This earns you an amused laugh, and the two of you begin walking towards the entrance of the city. “Do you even need to ask?”

“I figured today might be the day you just surprise me.”

You’re not sure how much time you spend standing around watching Cora browse the many books in Akila City’s—woefully small, in your opinion—selection. Seeing her over the moon at each new title, eyes scanning the summaries and even skimming the inner pages never got old. Her enthusiasm for the first new book she’d laid eyes on was just as exuberant as what was possibly the 18th book that afternoon.

The girl was a talker, chatting up the bookstore owners with the passion of a scholar. You could tell the women weren’t used to having someone so forthcoming with their love of literature in their store, but they quickly joined Cora’s wavelength and discussed their favorite volumes at length.

More than content to stand off to the side and let the girl have her fun, you interjected where appropriate, but for the most part just let the conversation go without you. Cora could talk for two people, anyway.

Eventually, even she had her fill of the bookstore, stomach grumbling with the need for food. You walked out of the store only a few hundred credits poorer—a miracle if there ever was one—and headed off to the chunks establishment just down the way. Akila was a maze at the best of times, but for once you managed to navigate the streets with little trouble.

You stood in line and debated with the young bibliophile what the best flavor of chunks was, but couldn’t come to an agreement. Your own favorite was completely out of stock when you managed to get help from the attendant, so you went with Cora’s favorite instead. 

With sated stomachs and a few new books for Cora in tow, you return to the spaceport to wait on the ship until either Sam or Lillian arrive. One glance around at the other landing pads confirms that Lillian’s ship had still not touched down. Sam still hadn’t comm’d you after an hour and a half, which meant his meeting with Jacob probably wasn’t going well. Regardless, you knew he’d make his way back to the Razorleaf in time to see his daughter off, even if it meant leaving business unfinished with his father.

You hid your worry behind a carefully neutral interest in whatever Cora had been talking about while you walked back to the Razorleaf, but that pit of dread began to dig its way into your stomach. Anger simmered right behind it. Cora didn’t seem to notice your rapidly worsening mood, which was all the better. If your fears turned out to be unwarranted, no need to rub it off on the girl.

When the ship’s communicator finally chimed with an incoming transmission, both yours and Cora’s heads jerked up. Being closer to the cockpit, you slid into the captain’s chair just as Cora ran by your side. Immediately, you knew it wasn’t Sam reaching out, and instead the woman you were meant to be meeting in…28 minutes. Cora’s face lit up with the prospect that it was her mother calling to tell them she was almost there.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be that optimistic.

One touch on your control panel accepted the transmission. Before you could even issue the standard greeting, Cora chimed in with a bubbly, “Hi, Mom!”

Hearing her daughter’s voice had caught the Ranger off guard. There was a pause before she responded. “Cora, angel…how are you?”

Her tone of voice made you stiffen in your seat, mouth pressing into a thin line, but Cora didn’t notice. She leaned forward against your chair’s armrest.

“I’m great! Are you almost here? I’ve got my bag all packed, so as soon as Dad comes back from Grandpa’s we can leave.”

“Ah, I was actually hoping to speak with your dad. Do you know how long he’ll be?” 

Figures she’d try to speak with Sam instead of breaking her daughter’s heart directly, you think bitterly. You wondered if she even realized how selfish it was to put the responsibility on her ex-husband to break this crushing news.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon. And I found a few books we can read together while we travel to wherever we are going. I know you’ll like them.”

Your heart broke further with each new word the curly-haired pre-teen spoke, knowing what was about to happen. The taste of your chunks packet earlier was overshadowed by the bitterness of anger as it bubbled hotter under your skin.

“That’s great, sweetie, but…” Lillian’s voice trailed off, guilt or embarrassment or some equally fitting emotion coloring her tone. Perhaps she’d realized that there was no softening the blow she was about to deliver. “…listen. Something came up that I have to take care of. I’m so sorry, Cora. I’m not gonna be able to make it this time.”

A full second, maybe two, of silence passed, Cora processing what her mother had said. Seeing the girl’s face morph from elation at hearing her mother’s voice to something akin to confused betrayal tore at the deepest parts of your heart. If you could have saved her from this, you would have. But Cora being in the ship meant that she’d hear every word spoken no matter where in the craft she was.

“Oh.”

That one word, uttered with such devastating resignation. Cora straightened from leaning across your armrest and stood there with a carefully put together mask. You could see every crack and fracture in the young girl’s facade, but she put up a valiant effort to appear unaffected.

Lillian must have heard the same, and continued again before you could interject anything.

“I know how much you were looking forward to this, and trust me when I say I was too. I’d love nothing more than to take you away to a little paradise together and just spend the days hangin’ out without a care in the world.” Lillian’s attempts at smoothing over the hurt did nothing at all to fix anything about this. “I promise you, we’ll get together and have our week-long vacation, do or die, one of these days.”

Cora didn’t say anything. So unlike the chatty pre-teen. She looked down at her shoes, before quietly taking a hold of her suitcase you now realized she’d dragged with her in her rush to the cockpit.

“It’s alright, mom. We’ll figure it out someday.” Dear God, she barely sounded like Cora…all color was missing from her voice. So little life.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know.” And with that, she turned and padded her way back to the cot at the back of the ship. Perhaps she didn’t want you to witness her misery, because she went so far as to close the hatch to the cockpit, leaving you by yourself with Lillian still connected. Even with the hatch closed, Cora might still hear the conversation, but given everything that had happened, you no longer gave a damn.

“What is it this time, Lillian?” Your voice is full of barely restrained venom as you lean forward in your chair. You can’t see the woman through the audio transmission, but you were glaring anyway. “What’s so important that you couldn’t keep your promise to your daughter?”

The sweetness present when she’d spoken with Cora was absent, replaced by cold indifference when addressing you. The contrast was so stark, if you hadn’t already known her, you’d say they were two separate women. “You talk like this doesn’t hurt me just as much as it does Cora.”

“Because it doesn’t.” You say, reminding yourself to restrain the worst of your emotions. It wouldn’t do Cora any favors by cursing out her absentee mother from the other room. That wasn’t what the girl needed right now. Your head shakes with a rueful scoff. “If you could only see, Lilian…the way that girl’s face shattered. Then maybe you’d understand just how much more she’s hurting. But no, instead you do this over comms where you don’t have to look her in the eyes. Hell, you were going to put it on Sam to break the news, weren’t you?”

Lillian, perhaps smartly, doesn’t rise to that particular insinuation. “I do what I can, when I can to be there. It’s unfortunately a lot less than I’d like, but my duty is to protect the people of Freestar Space. I have obligations I can’t just ignore.”

“You seem to have forgotten your obligations as a mother in the process.”

“I’d give anything to be there with my little girl. Don’t ever imply I wouldn’t.”

“If that were the case, you’d have found someone else to handle whatever ‘came up.’ When it comes down to it, you don’t give anything, and you need to. Each missed visit convinces her that she’s another step further down on your list of priorities. What do you think happens when she believes she’s at the bottom?” You retort, already exhausted over this whole conversation.

“Cora knows how much she means to me, how important she is.” Funny, you think Lillian almost has herself convinced.

If it kept going at this rate, you were likely to start yelling, and that wouldn’t end well. Besides, Cora needed someone to be with her right now, so things needed to end quickly. 

You let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, voice growing much quieter as you reigned in your fury. “Look, Lillian…Sam already explained this to you. You can’t keep doing this. Cora can’t. She’s already 12. 13 in just a few months. Before you know it, she won’t be a child anymore. At this rate, there will come a point when she decides waiting for you to bother isn’t worth the heartache. There will come a day when you retire, when the need to fulfill a duty is over and done, and she will not be there. Because in the moments when it mattered—really mattered—you weren’t there for her. You realize that, right?”

You hear the woman sigh, and deep down, you know she hates that this conversation ever had to take place as much as you do. You know, really, that Lillian had good intentions with her promises. And that’s what made it all the more frustrating when she failed to deliver. She was well aware of how important this all was. Her damned chronic workaholic personality and inability to set aside the needs of the many just wouldn’t allow her to put anything else above it. Even at the cost of her daughter’s trust and happiness.

“You sound more like her mother than I do sometimes…” The Ranger admits tiredly. “I don’t know whether to be angry or grateful.”

“Honestly, I don’t care how you feel about it.” You say with a shrug. “She needs someone to be there for her. Sam is a wonderful father, and always there when it counts, but that girl needs a mother too. I know I’ll never replace you in her heart, it's not something I'm trying to do anyway. But I’ll fill whatever role she needs me to be, if it keeps her smiling.”

You hear a muffled beeping through the transmission, followed by Lillian’s muttered curse. “Damn it…looks like I’m about to have company.”

“Spacers?” You weren’t really concerned, or even cared, and asked only out of obligation.

“Crimson Fleet, I think.” There’s a pause, and you know that the conversation had come to an end. Nothing had resolved, but you knew Lillian wasn’t likely to change who she was after a short talk. “Listen, tell Cora I love her. I expect I’ll hear from Sam later on about this. He has every right to be angry. I am who I am, and that’s exactly the reason we never would have worked out in the end. I only regret Cora is suffering because of it. But for now, duty calls.”

Always duty with this woman. “Be safe, Lillian.” You bid, already reaching for the console button to end the transmission.

“You too.”

The audio cuts off abruptly, and you lean back in your chair with a slow inhale. Dragging your hands down your face, you release the last of your anger in a harsh exhale. Best to get rid of it now, so it wasn’t obvious when you went to see Cora. Not wasting anymore time, you stand from the chair and open the hatch.

You find Cora sat on your cot, a thousand-yard stare fixed at some point on the floor in front of her. Her smile was long gone, replaced instead by the remains of whatever facade she’d crafted to appear put together and ok. The little suitcase she’d packed with all her belongings sat a few feet away. It was zipped halfway open, as if she’d began to unpack, but then thought better of it.

A sad sigh leaves your lips. For a moment, you just watch her, calculating how best to approach this conversation. Sam was much better equipped to handle something like this, but you weren’t sure how much longer he’d be, and it pained you having to see her in such despair. You couldn’t just sit back and let her stew in whatever thoughts might be dragging her further down.

You slowly approach the still-silent Cora, electing to sit at her side just a few inches apart. Whether she wanted physical comfort, or just someone to be nearby, you weren’t sure. But you were close enough that, should she need you, she didn’t need to go far.

And for awhile, the two of you just…sit there. Words fail you, and try as hard as you might to find the right ones to say that might heal some of the hurt in Cora’s heart, nothing feels good enough. But eventually, you hear the girl sniffle. The first sign that her careful hold on her emotions was beginning to crack.

“Mom is a good Ranger. She’s out there saving lots of lives and making the galaxy less dangerous.” Cora’s wavering voice says, and you nearly want to cry yourself hearing just how hard it was for her not to shed those tears. Perhaps this was something she told herself each day as justification for her mother's constant absence. “I know she’ll make it up to me one day. She always does, eventually.”

You bite your lip. “Cora-“

“But…just once,” another sniffle breaks through, and then the first tear slides down her cheek, “I was hoping that…that it would all go right and we’d be a-able to see each other for a whole week. There’s s-so much I want to show her and talk to…to her about.”

More tears follow the first, and you lift your sleeve to wipe them from her face gently. But they keep coming, now that the floodgates had opened, and Cora openly wept as she sat beside you, her true feelings spilling over in bucketfuls. You did your best to keep up, but it only takes minutes for her to be shaking with the overwhelming sadness.

“I just want my mom…” She sobs, covering her eyes with her hands to try stopping the flow. “That’s all.”

A sharp cry has you reaching for her shoulders and pulling the girl in close, and your heart leaps when she forcefully wraps her arms around your middle and buries her tear-stained face in your shirt. What you wouldn’t give to drag Lillian here by the hair and force her to be here for her daughter…

With soothing ‘shushing’ noises, you gently rock her back and forth, one hand patting her back and the other holding her head close. You don’t know what to say to her, truly. Finding the words to tell Lillian how much you thought she failed her daughter constantly and consistently was easy. Finding the words to tell her child that she deserved so much more than what she was being given? That was much more difficult.

You sat there while Cora poured her heart out. Through the sobs, she mumbled muffled and incoherent sentences into your shirt. You’re not sure what half of them were, but if she just wanted to get it all out and vent, that was fine with you. Your shirt was damp with her tears, but that was alright too. Nothing would pull you away from offering whatever support you could while she worked her way through the many emotions.

Eventually, Cora’s sobbing began to ebb, the shaking becoming less pronounced. Her breathing evens to something less stuttered and shallow, and before too long you realize she’d managed to cry herself to sleep against your side. The poor thing…you continued the gentle rocking motion just in case, not wanting to wake her up.

A dull beeping noise caught your attention, and you look up towards the cockpit where it emanated from. Your communicator, you realized. That was probably Sam, wanting to let you know that he was done with whatever him and Jacob had needed to discuss. Part of you thinks to get up and answer, but the thought of jostling Cora awake was too much. You sat there, figuring that Sam would return to the ship to look for the two of you.

If you had to guess, it was about ten minutes before you heard the footsteps coming up the Razorleaf’s ramp. You didn’t move from your spot, listening as the airlock hissed open. Somehow, the noise didn’t wake the exhausted Cora, who barely moved from her place next to you.

Sam nearly walked past you sitting on the cot, but his peripheral vision caught your presence, and he stopped. He took in the sight of his daughter curled into your side, her posture clearly indicating that she’d been crying. You met his gaze with a stony, cold fury, one he understood wasn’t directed at him personally. That one, silent stare was all he needed to figure out what had occurred while he’d been away. 

The inquisitive expression he’d worn coming in vanished, jaw setting tightly. Clearly agitated, Sam stepped a few paces away, hand rubbing along his jaw in an effort to remain calm in the face of what Lillian had put his daughter through once again. He looked like he wanted to throw something. His breathing was more pronounced, though came through in slow, methodical inhale and exhales through his nose. Truthfully, you don’t think you’d ever seen Sam so angry.

In time, he finds himself again, stowing away the anger for the sake of his daughter. He could vent his feelings to Lillian later, when Cora wouldn’t hear it, but for now the important thing was making sure his daughter was alright. That was something you would never grow tired of seeing; Sam’s absolute dedication to his little girl, no matter what.

He moves to sit on her other side, and leans down to kiss the top of her head. It didn’t matter to him if she was still sleeping. You slowly move to shift Cora’s weight over to Sam, and somehow manage it without waking the sleeping pre-teen. She stirs, but her eyes never open.

Sam takes off his cowboy hat and sets it next to him, leaning back and holding Cora closer to him. He settles in to sit there for awhile, unsure how long she’ll be out for. Then, his eyes glance up to meet your own, holding them with a look so full of…something, that you can’t look away.

“Thank you. You were there for her when she needed it.” He says, his voice raspy and quiet so as not to wake Cora. And while you know he couldn’t have heard your conversation with Lillian before, it’s eerie how similar his words were. “I appreciate that beyond words.”

You give a little shrug, eyes drifting back down to the girl in his arms. “She needs her dad now.”

“And you, Y/N.” He says, drawing your attention back up to him. He offers the smallest of smiles. “She needs you too.”

Unsure of what to say, you simply sit back and make yourself comfortable, waiting for Cora to awaken. Your hand rubs along her back, hoping that the two of you would somehow be able to fix some of what Lillian had broken.

[anthroposeen]

tmagp 13 relisten notes!!

there are spoilers for episode 13 below the cut!

celia:

- admits to sam that she asked alice for advice and general information about him. this implies she has a pretty friendly relationship with alice (evidenced by alice buying her a mocha) and seems relatively unthreatened by her past with sam so far.

- "no one, im mysterious" -> evidence for her not being from this dimension, if no one can give a lot of information about her

- reveals jack is her baby! (not followed by a glitch)

- says the past couple years "since the move" (between dimensions?) were weird for her

- believes the incidents they work with are real, and im certain shes in the same boat as the audience rn, trying to categorize them with background knowledge that isnt accurate anymore

sam:

- easy to make blush, doesnt know how cute he is, is an overachiever, obsessive, a but repressed, nosy, kind of a recluse, and very easy to wind up

- gifted kid syndrome poster child; he seems to view being turned away by the magnus institute as the beginning of his rejection streak (not admitted to oxford, didnt get first, got fired from his legal firm). i think this will be a major point in his motivations and a fear of rejection and need for validation is going to drive him to receive the greatness he wants (and believes he has earned). i can already see a corruption arc brewing for him, poor thing

- did NOT tell celia about his experiences in the institute or what his "incident" was (referring to lena's interview where she asked him what the worst thing he's seen/experienced was). this isnt super sketchy considering its a first date, but is interesting since he was the one who wanted "all the baggage" out early

- he doesn't want to accept that the incidents are real, but i think he does believe in them. he brought the topic up to celia and has asked alice about it before too, so he may be aware that the incidents are real, but is unwilling to fully conceptualize what that means for himself and his world view

- says that alice doesnt love the idea of him seeing celia, which means he may have picked up on her feelings for him

gwen:

- feels guilty over instigating the mr.bonzo incident -> whats really interesting is that she doesnt threaten to quit or not be involved, she accepts that she gas another email to look through and another external to interact with, but it seems to upset her

- she asks lena why this (externals and mr bonzo murder) is happening, implying that she can stomach the work if its for a reason

lena:

- gives gwen the ABCs of genre-awareness:

- this dimension also has "opposing forces- most of them meaning to be harmful.

- these "forces" need to be "balanced" and controlled in order to maintain order in the world/system -> still working off of a smirke-esque theory that retaining balance will keep the world secure. i dont know if she means balance between forces of good and evil or forces in the supernatural sense

- says the OIAR is managing the bad guys, as in monitoring their actions and directing externals to "balance" things

alice:

- actually offended that sam doesnt want to share information with her and isnt having a good time knowing sam and celia are seeing each other

- tells sam "he cant prove anything" about the cases being real, but doesnt tell him hes wrong

- i would fling myself from a sky scraper for you, miss dyer, but please never say bussin or fire again

- "stop trying to make an impact" -> the more she tells sam to cut the x-files shit out, the more she stops protesting his suspicions. her scolding has gone from "nothing is going on, chill out" to "sure, theres a conspiracy, but we are paid to ignore it"

-

alice/sam's past:

- dated at uni, previously stated they were together for several years. it seems to have been a decent split since they stayed in contact afterward.

- sam was there for her when her parents died, but lost contact after

- she contacted him w the OIAR job details after he made an exceptionally pathetic vague post

incident:

- centered around gambling and self harm to achieve success- this draws ties to episode 2 (self harm) and episode 9 (luck). i expect this is more aligned with ep 9, as the self harm seems to be in the interest of changing his odds/luck, and the incident is primarily about gaining external success, not physical change. though, ep 2 could be a personal experience with ink5oul that is not representative with their "force"

- the narrator of this statement was quick to actively sacrifice his own well being to achieve better luck, which is a pretty stark contrast to other people who looked to harm other people in their own interest (violin guy and dice guy, i forgot their names sorry!!)

- zorro trader may be a reoccurring organization in relation to gambling

- the narrators options for his debt were to either pay it back or have a personal adjustment, once he completes the voicemail he is transferred to the adjustments apartment, which was not an option on the original call log and something he did not request

- he is promptly adjusted :)

- i think this could be related to the theme of keeping balance, since the incident narrator claims it isnt wrong to play with the loophole, and it ends with him getting what he owes, which is a nice connection to lena's explanation of the OIAR's purpose

glitches/lies:

- "im happy you're happy", alice (she is not happy that sam is with celia!!)

extra comments:

- i really didnt expect an explanation of the OIAR and its position in this so early, and im surprised lena was the one to reveal it. this exposes that shes pretty open with the staff she feels are on a need-to-know basis, and it also changes my expectations for how we'll come across a big reveal in this series, since information is being given in a more open way

- i think alice and celia definitely know something but in opposing ways- acting as foils to each other with sam (information seeker) in the middle. celia knows about how the fears work in the tma dimension, and alice knows why and what the OIAR are really doing- together, they solve the puzzle that sam is trying to piece together.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 30

MASTAPOST

huge thanks to brekitten again for betaing uwu

Despite Damian complaining of the smell, Danny personally thought his new outfit was very comfortable, at least compared to the alternatives. At some points their little nature walk along the road brought them close to the river they’d swum up to get to the locks. They could’ve easily jumped in if they wanted, but the presence of GiW boats in a narrow passage made it a very unappetising option.

They also didn’t know what his human form looked like, but they did know about siren human forms in general. Once they realised the canal itself was empty, they would very likely transition into hunting him on land. Then there would be problems.

Danny picked up the pace. Jogging was easy when you could ice over your overheating muscles from the inside, a technique that had fascinated and disgusted his friends. To their right, the remains of the canal shipyards, and to their left, a large hill covered in trees and foliage overlooked the water. Wind rustled through the leaves and blew through his clothes. Ah, to be clothed at last. What a luxury.

As they walked, the boys made idle commentary on the scenery, including sardonic comments at the presence of a golf club on the hill.

“I should hope they do not punt any balls into the water.”

“I dunno. Could be a fun challenge. Imagine doing a hole in one across the canal!”

The shade was nice too. Even the air felt cooler underneath the trees. As they rounded the corner of the mountain, their next issue made itself known.

A car drove past them, only to stop and slow down at a check point manned by, who else, the GiW. At some point Danny was seriously questioning the Panamanian government. If he were in charge, he would definitely not let the US government just run roughshod over his country’s infrastructure. That being said, it probably wasn’t the first time the government fucked things up in South America, as Sam’s many rants had led him to learning.

Danny ran his finger along Damian’s forearm, earning a hiss from the kid. He slathered the mucus over his ear, turning it into its siren form.

“Shush. Lemme listen.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Sorry ma’am. We’re with the US government. We’ll need to inspect your car for any siren contraband or smuggling. We’ll also have to test you for mind control.”

With that, another voice seemed to repeat the command in very apologetic Spanish. It seemed their translator was about as unhappy with the arrangement as the poor civilian.

“Tt. Amateurs.” Damian muttered.

Then came a very rapid series of what he believed was swearing from the driver, an older woman. Oh. He didn’t need his ears to notice the sandals smacking into the agents. Danny couldn’t help but laugh a little.

It wasn’t like the blockade would do anything! There was a whole-ass hill right beside him.

“How were these people ever a threat to us?” Damian muttered. He hissed at a stray branch jabbing into his ribs, batting it away.

“Probably all the money the government throws at them to buy weapons. From my parents.” Yeah it kinda said a lot that the only reason they were any issue at all were because of his parents.

Damian stiffened. If Danny weren’t holding him so close, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

Danny hiked into the forested hill. Great thing about clothes, Damian, is that they protect your very soft human skin from being sliced up by thorns and branches and other sharp shrubbery. “It’ll be fine. I’ve beaten these clowns a dozen times before.”

 “With allies, and a healthy body. And in the water. Be wary.”

Danny grinned. “But I still have my powers!”

“Tut. Be wary. Triumphant pride precipitates a dizzying fall.”

“Hah! How many dictionaries did you consume to be able to say that?”

“Five. And I do not consume books, I read them, unlike you and your sullen species.”

“I am literally human right now. And I read plenty of books.” Comic books, in fact. But that addendum didn’t stop the (invisible) smirk on his face. Comics books are literature too! Even if the canon keeps getting ruined every few years.

Damian began another retort, only for the forest to fill with alarm blares. The sounds overlapped and pounded in Danny’s ears. “What happened!?”

He was in human form, they couldn’t detect-  Wait. He slapped himself in the face. It was Damian. They’d detected Damian’s signature. Fuck.

“The forest covered up their smell. Dangit. The one time they weren’t wildly incompetent.”

His head snapped to the side, then he turned around. Nobody yet. Damian growled. “We need to get moving.”

“You can say that again.”

Danny wove through the branches amidst rising shouts, and alarms that continued to sound. He caught a glint on the side of a tree. One ice spear was all it took to take out a sensor. More still screamed.

“Behind you!”

Danny dove to the floor. A shot whizzed past his head. His body creased leaves and pressed the dirt.

“There’s the specimen! Take it down!”

Several more guns whined. Danny rolled to the side. He got up in seconds. The dirt exploded behind him. Three more shots fired into a tree, causing it to creak and groan.

Damian squeezed his arm. “Throw me,” he whispered.

Danny’s face went slack. “What?!”

“There are only two of them. They do not know my identity, and they have weapons.”

Yeah them having weapons was a very good reason not to throw you at the racist government agents, Damian! “You’re crazy.”

“The Atlanteans underestimated me similarly. Now hurry!”

Another two agents flanked them on the other side. Despite his reservations, Danny was forced to admit the kid had a point. “Fine, but be careful!”

Danny stepped back. He threw his arms over his shoulders, Damian’s waist held tightly. With all his strength, he hurled him like the screaming ball of fury and spite that he was. The boy flashed into visibility. The agents behind him screamed girlishly, a fact that he wished he could have recorded.

Instead he squared his shoulders at the two in front of him. It was G from earlier and another guy. Hello misplaced aggression. The goons cried out, preparing to fire on Damian. While the kid was still on top of their friends’ faces!? Well, friendly fire never stopped them. Danny flicked two beams. One froze the trigger on G’s gun solid, scoring half his hand as a bonus. The other got his friend’s gun muzzle. The agent pulled the trigger anyway, and was rewarded by scalding hot metal shards to the face for his troubles.

Danny’s eyes glowed steely black and blue. He fired off another salvo. His attacks bound their wrists and feet to the ground. At the same time, his nose tickled with a coppery odour. The screams of the men behind him reduced to pained sobbing.

“I am returning,” Damian declared. Danny had about half a second between that warning and the kid slamming onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck again. The extra weight almost knocked him off his feet.

“What the heck are you carrying?!”

The skin around his ears shivered. A gun charged right over his shoulder. Damian nailed a reinforcing agent in the shoulder. “A new acquisition. Now move!”

Only Damian. Only Damian.

So the stealthy approach wasn’t working out amazingly. By the time Danny had cleared the forest, and lost his pursuers, there were about a dozen men lying on the dirt in various states of pain. Danny jogged past the now-unmanned barrier, wondering if there was really any point to sneaking around.

Damian panted over his shoulder. They needed to stop for another water break. His friend wouldn’t last long without one. And he was feeling the fatigue of keeping his powers up already. He’d need another snack soon.

“We cannot afford another confrontation. It was lucky we had the advantage in terrain, and they squandered their numbers by walking in one by one. The next fight may not be as fortunate.”

It was an apt time to say that, seeing as their presence had definitely not gone unnoticed.

A large white truck barreled through the road, giving Danny an honest to god heart attack. He dashed behind an electric post without thinking. Luckily it hadn’t noticed him, but the road ahead reeked of further agents. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were checkpoints along every road and intersection from here to the beach.

“Like seriously. There’s no way Panamanian government could be happy with this. I’m not going crazy, right?”

“This will likely be an international incident, especially if my plan is to go through.”

Danny suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. “What plan?”

“It is simply the most logical way to proceed. As I said, we do not have the resources to fight many more battles. At some point, we will be encircled, and either be captured or severely injured.”

“So what’s your plan, then?”

Damian laughed. It was not the joyful, innocent laughter of a kid his size, but rather a cackle fitting a demon, or some sadist coming up with creative ways to inflict pain on his victims. Danny got very, very worried.

“Wrench!” Dad called out. Jazz pulled one out of the toolbox and handed it over.

“Nope, wrong tool. I need the, uhh the thingamajig.” Without a beat lost, Jazz passed some fiendish contraption meant for measuring hydroplasm levels, name still pending.

“Thanks Jazziepants.”

For a man who’d been insistent on keeping her in bed or out of any hard work, and whom had been specifically instructed to do so regardless, her father’s willpower was very weak when subjected to Jazz’s arguments. That was what led her to sitting in the engine room with her father, watching him put the hydroplasm back into working levels. She felt a little bad about making her dad spend so much time, but what guilt she felt would have been outweighed a thousand-fold by the pain of seeing her brother in their parents’ grasps.

Now she needed to know the direction of his heart.

“Dad, are you ok?”

He shrugged. “I’m ok as ever, Jazzie.”

“You’ve been worrying.”

Her father yanked out a faulty wire. “What kinda dad wouldn’t be? When I was a kid, my grandpa Fenton told me one day, I’d be the man of my own house. I’d protect my wife and my kids from those gosh darn delinquents of the deep. Of course, I ended up finding a lovely wife who’d protect me just as much as I her, but,” He swallowed.

“It’s ok. I’m here for you, Dad. Is it something to do with the interrogation?”

“Jazzie, look, I don’t want you to worry.”

“But it’s bothering you, right?”

Her dad’s boots arced inwards, like he’d clenched his toes. “Our only lead was Phantom. That’s the whole point of this trip. But we got him, and he wouldn’t spill. And I didn’t know what to do.”

“Were you hurt?”

“No. Nobody got hurt. But your mother… I’m sorry, it’s not something you should be hearing.”

Her father’s voice went uncharacteristically serious. No! She didn’t need protecting. She needed information.

“Dad, you and mom have been dreaming of capturing a siren for years.”

Her father’s body went still for a moment. He quietly screwed in a bolt. “I know. It was nothing like I’d ever expected.”

“In a good way?”

“I thought he was gonna fight. Or throw snark at us like the fish felon he is. It was what our research told us what would happen. But it didn’t.”

She said nothing, her silence prompting her father to continue.

“Jazzie, he… cried. And suddenly I realised that Phantom looked like a kid. Like Danny’s age.”

“That young?” Jazz said with fake surprise. “Do you think he still could’ve done it?”

“I don’t know. But he must be involved, somehow. In any case, we’ll still have to pursue him.”

Jazz leaned in closer. Her father’s goggles were off, which gave her an unblocked view of his eyes. Just like her mother, they faltered with hidden speculation with doubt. The relief made her cry, almost. “There’s no guarantee, Dad,” she whispered.

Her father sat up from the creep. He stretched his arms out, and pulled her into an embrace. “I promise we’ll figure something out. Your brother’s got the might of the Fentons in him.”

‘Specimen Phantom is in disguise. Be on high alert. Nobody is above suspicion.’ Agent H hummed. That damned fish freak. Crawled its way out of the water the moment trouble hit. Now everyone was mobilising. Agent H shut off the radio, having heard enough.

Frankly, he’d had enough of this damned country and the heat. He’d been got by at least three mosquitoes already, and this brief respite in the truck was all he’d get until another six hours spent underneath the tropical sun, looking for a damn slippery siren.

He hoped Phantom would turn into fried fish before he did. Goddammit.

That was not to mention the freaking local police, who’d been harassing them all day about their tasks. Ignorant locals. How could they not notice the threat lurking right under their noses? Without the help of his organisation, the Canal would’ve been wrecked, then who’d have the final laugh? Definitely not Panama.

“Be on high alert, H.” Agent I said. “Specimen Phantom and its accomplice just took out squad A in the trees.”

H turned to her. “And why aren’t we assisting them?”

“Squad B’s taken care of it. We need to cut of the specimen’s escape, before it reaches the open ocean.”

H scoffed. “We have enough manpower, I. These sirens are smart enough to get around us. We need to hunt the specimen actively.”

“And you need to follow orders, Agent H. The local government’s only barely tolerating our presence as is. One wrong move and there will be hell to pay, do you understand?”

Agent H grumbled.

“Do you understand, Agent H?” Agent I ground out.

“Yes, ma’am. I-”

Agent H was unable to finish his sentence. He slammed the brakes. He and Agent I jerked forward in their seatbelts as the truck screeched to a halt in front of a gruesome sight. In the middle of the road, two wooden stakes were erected. Blood stained the road at the base of them. Strung up to the stakes were two familiar uniforms.

“Agent G! Agent F!” He cried out. Agent H tore off his seatbelt. He snatched his hydro gun and rushed out. His blood ran cold. How dare that- that- that monster!?

“Agent H! Get back here!” His superior ordered. He ignored her. He needed to-

Agent H was right in front of the wooden stakes when he realised his error. What looked like G’s soft brown skin and F’s paler tan from afar became patchy, holed. It was no human, but a kind of mocking imitation made from dried reeds and branches.

That meant- Shit.

Agent H had no time to react. Brilliant blue blasted him across the road. He struggled, cursed, tried to reach his communicator, but his efforts were for naught. The ice bound his wrists together like concrete. In the corner of his eye, he saw Agent I put up just a few more seconds of fight, before a barrage of hydro beams took her down too. That was their weapons!

Shame burned his skin hotter than the tropical sun. The dirty, evil sirens opened the door to the truck, invisibly. He could only watch helpless as a trapped rat as the truck kicked into full gear.

[gloomzi]

A Little Death

PAIRING sam riordan/emma meyer/gn!reader

WORD COUNT 743

SUMMARY (Y/N) comes back from class to find their partners, Emma and Sam, have started having fun without them.

WARNINGS sfw despite what the summary might sound like, reader is somewhat more dominant in the relationship, they/them pronouns for reader

NOTES this is my first fic on this blog + my first x reader in many many years, pls go easy on me 😭😭 i don't think this is my best work by any means but i wanted to write something gen v so here it is! title is from a the neighbourhood song btw :p that being said, hope yall enjoy!

Sam's hands rested gently on Emma's waist, fingers rubbing small circles over her hip bones as she kissed down his neck gently. Though he was mostly distracted by the sensation of her lips ghosting over his adam’s apple, he could just faintly hear the sound of (Y/N) entering the room, his eyes opening slowly to meet their gaze, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched them stand stock-still, bag slung over their shoulder. Emma had stopped briefly too, glancing over her shoulder to smirk at their partner before picking up where she left off, sucking a bruise right under Sam's jaw.

"Why do you guys always start having fun without me?" (Y/N) whined, walking over and forcing their way between them. Emma laughed, shoving their shoulder gently before allowing herself to be pushed out of the way, watching fondly as they pushed and pulled at Sam until he was sat in their lap. Though Sam was much taller than (Y/N), they were always eager to dote on him, this position becoming common between the two. From an outsider's perspective it probably looked silly, but Emma found it sweet and loved seeing the dynamic her partners had fallen into.

Sam huffed, crossing his arms, "We always start without you because you're always late,” He pouted.

Emma giggled, “Like seriously, do you just chat with everyone on your way back from class, or…?” (Y/N) rolled their eyes, ignoring Emma’s comment to squeeze Sam’s face lightly.

“Whiners, the both of you.” They muttered, kicking at Emma’s shin lightly.

Groaning, Emma moved closer to the pair, her legs propped up on either side of Sam’s, chest pressed into his back. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but she wanted to be close, so she’d deal with it for the moment. Wrapping her arms around Sam’s waist, she placed her head between his shoulders before loosening her grip so (Y/N) could maneuver him as they pleased. Using the hands that were already on his face, (Y/N) pulled him into a soft kiss, gentle and slow, his eyes fluttering shut as a hum of content slipped from his lips.

(Y/N) smiled slightly into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of the other boy's fingers sliding up the sides of their neck and settling behind their head. Sam nipped at their lower lip, smirking when he felt their fingers flex against his cheeks before trying to pull him in deeper. Emma watched them continue to kiss for a few more seconds before latching her own lips onto Sam's shoulder, biting lightly. The boy's breath hitched as he pulled away from (Y/N), a strand of spit following him back as he gripped Emma's thigh tightly in his left hand, his nails digging into her skin. His other hand held a handful of (Y/N)’s shirt, who watched the pair with half lidded eyes, their hands falling to Sam’s sides as Emma moved up his neck slowly, small bruise's starting to form a trail.

(Y/N) huffed a laugh, squeezing the boy’s waist lightly before smacking Emma’s knee, "First you start without me and now Sam gets all your attention," They pouted, though the lilt in their voice made it clear they didn’t actually mind.

Emma snickered, shaking her head, “Ohhh, poor baby! C’mere, I’ll give you all the attention you want,” She said, pulling away from Sam to lay beside the pair. After a moment of shuffling (Y/N) had been pulled into Emma’s lap, Sam’s face pressed into Emma’s collarbone, a barely noticeable smile on his face as he stared up at them. (Y/N)’s face had gone red, arms crossed tightly over their chest, still unused to the switch in position. Sure, they could appreciate being the one on the receiving end of the doting from time to time, but it wasn’t common, especially from Emma. Still, Emma cooed at their awkwardness, finding it cute as always, uncrossing their arms quickly and linking their hands together.

“Better?” Emma teased, swinging their hands with a grin. Sam chuckled besides them, muttering something about them being cute into Emma’s neck. 

“Just kiss me already!” (Y/N) whined, pulling their hands loose to slip into Emma’s hair, tugging lightly.

Sam giggled, rolling his head out of the way slightly, “God, you two are ridiculous.” He smiled, reaching behind (Y/N)’s head to push them together, “Just get it over with.”

[colossalcriminal]

Goodbye, Apple Pie - s.w

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and Y/N aren’t too thrilled when Dean stumbles back into their lives.

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing. kissing?? Takes place in season one.

“Do we really have to go?”

Despite pouting at his laziness, the corners of Y/N’s mouth tugged upward ever so slightly. “If you really don’t want to go we don't have to, baby.” 

He sighed humbly as she straddled his hips, hands flat on his chest. She had almost relieved the feeling of his back against the wall with little support. “You think you’ll be ready in ten?” His answer was expected. Even with the choice he was offered, Sam could never say no to her. Wherever his wife went, he went.

Their mattress was situated on the floor, a slightly uncomfortable situation. She did her best to make it look nice with patterned sheets, but the sight of their duvet touching the floor when the bed was neatly made did irk them both.

“I can be ready in fifteen.” She promised, pressing a chaste, grateful, kiss to his lips before departing back to the bathroom.

They had a bed frame once, with a nice headboard. It probably would’ve lasted them years if Sam's guilt hadn't gotten in the way, and if it wasn’t so easy to sell it for such a hefty number.

A nice sleeping area, most of his savings and skipping some classes to pick up extra shifts at work among other things were worth practically nothing when it came to his girl. 

His girl who deserved everything, his girl who should’ve gotten better than a Vegas wedding with only an Elvis impersonator in attendance, his girl who didn’t mind they were absolutely dirt poor.

But, she was also his girl who was tearing up in confusion and glee when he presented her with the prettiest wedding band that matches his.

Sure, a bed frame could’ve given him a few years of good sleep, but Sam knew it was worth it when he saw her face, and he prayed that this piece of jewellery would stick around until he could buy her a bigger one.

By the time they reached, the bar was crowded and the Halloween decorations had made it seem busier, as usual, they’d already been approached by multiple friends in silly costumes.

“I’m so proud of you, and your freakishly good LSAT score.”

He smiled at her. “Have you heard back?”

To him, it was already obvious from her reaction. The way her eyes flickered down to her drink, her grin now sheepish. “It’s your night.”

“So, you did hear back.” There was no escaping. Y/N rummaged through her purse, handing him the torn envelope. “Y/N Winchester,” He murmured the contents of the letter, the sound of their shared last name rolling off his tongue with a slight smirk. 

“Congratulations, it is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the Stanford School of Medicine, class of 2010. Holy shit, you’re going to Stanford Med School.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m going to Stanford Med School.”

A breathy laugh of relief had turned into one of excitement as Sam embraced her, holding her so close to him she lifted off the ground in his grip. “You’re so amazing, you know that?” He told her, settling her down, but she remained firmly in his grasp. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

<3

She could hardly sleep, anyway.

Unusual, she slept like a rock, especially after a night of drinking. Sam had indulged a little more than her, just this once, to celebrate their futures.

The thud had brought her to her feet, slipping on one of Sam’s t-shirts, gently padding along the cold floor. Y/N made sure he was asleep before exiting the bedroom to search for the intruder. 

It had gone quiet again. Perhaps she imagined it?

No, she had just gotten a peak at him.

It all happened so slowly as she approached the stranger from behind, standing on the tips of her toes to wrap her arm around his neck. He squirmed, his breathing constricted, she took her chance to pin the man to the floor. “Dean?”

She lifted her arm just a little, allowing him to speak. “What are you doing here?” He wheezed, regaining his breath.

“I live here. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N?” The light turned on, and Sam’s sleepiness had worn off quickly when he found his wife on the verge of murdering his estranged brother. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

The pair stood, the former moving toward him as he wrapped a protective arm around her. “I was looking for a beer.” The intruder raised his eyebrow slightly at the couple. “I didn’t know you guys were still together.”

“What are you really doing here?”

Dean pursed his lips at the woman, one he was sure he’d never see again after she ran away. It’d been five years since he last saw her, she was just seventeen, handling a gun like a Texas Ranger. “We gotta talk.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, crossing her arms instead. “The phone?”

“If I’d called, would you have picked up?” An awkward silence. “Listen, Y/N, good seeing you again, but we’ve got to discuss some family business.”

Sam interrupted, his arm not moving from its position around her. “She’s family, Dean.”

“What?”

“Your last name is literally on my driver’s license forever.” Y/N deadpanned.

“You’re married?”

“As of last year.”

“You got married at twenty-one? Are you stupid?”

The younger brother scoffed. “Actually, it’s the best decision I’ve made yet, so whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”

It took a second, but Dean nodded. “Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”

He didn’t seem too bothered by the news. “So, he's working overtime on a Miller-time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later.”

“Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days. We have to go.”

“Come on, you can’t just break in in, middle of the night, and expect us to hit the road.”

“No, I expected you to hit the road. I didn’t think you’d get hitched to a girl you you’ve been dating since you were sixteen. I need you to help me.”

Y/N groaned. “We get it, Dean, you’re upset we got married. Did you want an invite? Hunters go missing all the time, they’re always fine.”

Dean finally looked her in the eye, and she saw the worry that clouded his features. “Not for this long. Are you going to help me, or not?”

“We’re not. We swore we were done hunting, for good.”

<3

“How much to make you go away?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the cash in her hand. “I’ve only got twenty, but that should get you something.”

His eyebrows raised in slight surprise. “You’re living with twenty dollars in your pocket?”

“Money’s been tight, lately. I’m sure it’s more than what you have, though.”

Nodding in agreement, he got a glimpse of the shiny wedding band on her finger as she leaned against the car. “Whose idea was it? The wedding.”

“His. Vegas, we got blackout drunk after, too. You would’ve enjoyed it.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath. “He wanted you there, Dean, he just didn’t know how to ask.”

Her words didn’t bring much comfort. “Is there anyone else who can help you?”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she was insinuating. “Your dad’s not in good shape, last trip got him real bad.”

The features on her didn’t move, her expression was stony. “Where is he?”

“Somewhere in North Carolina, last I checked. Still upset you ran away, I am, too. It would be good to have you on this hunt, like old times.”

“I appreciate that you haven’t asked for much, in the last couple of years. Sam misses you, I know he does, but we’re so happy and safe, I need you to understand that.”

Dean looked down at her, features softening at her teary eyes. “Please, help me, Y/N. Just this once.”

She nodded, blinking. “We have to be back first thing Monday morning. Sam’s got a law school interview. His future is important to him and I, and if you’re a good brother, it’s important to you too.”

<3

“Are you sure you want to go?”

Sam pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his hands sliding down her upper arms as she packed several articles of clothing into a duffle bag. “It’s one trip, that’s it. Just to find dad.”

The girl paused her action. “Do you think he’ll be happy to see us?”

“We didn't run away, babe, we went to college.”

She turned to face him, her hands cradling his face. “One trip.”

“Hey, if anyone’s going to fall back into old habits, it’s you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a slight smile, giving in to his affections. “We’ll be back by Monday morning, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Sam leaned down, two fingers under her chin as he joined their lips.

“How long are you going to take?” Dean called, his voice growing suspiciously louder before the door to their bedroom swung open. “Shit, my bad.”

“Jesus, fuck, knock!” She parted from her husband to glare at her brother-in-law.

“You guys really sleep on the floor? And I thought I had it bad.” 

[apocalypseornaw]

Soulmate AU Series- Benny

Benny Lafitte x Reader

You and your soulmate have the same tattoo

@decadentstrangernacho I swear I didn't forget this!!!

An anchor of all things, marking your right wrist from the day you'd turned eighteen. Your soulmark, the one sure way you had of knowing who your soulmate was should you ever meet them. What a crock. If the myth was true and Zeus was the one responsible for splitting souls in half and forcing them to try to seek out their missing part you wouldn't given him the satisfaction of playing into the game.

You wore a leather cuff around your wrist, covering the mark. You knew for a fact someone could be happy without ever meeting their soulmate, hell you'd seen first hand the pain Sam had gone through when his mark faded after Jess, the pain Bobby had still been in from Karen's death and how insane John went after losing Mary.

Most hunters had taken to covering their marks, whether with cuffs like you and Dean or in some other way. Your life was destined bloody, brutal and short. Why drag some poor idiot down with you?

When Dean got blasted to purgatory you and Sam ended up splitting ways for a few months. He needed a break but you knew if you ever stopped hunting and gave yourself time to break you may not ever pull yourself back together.

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

Almost a year passed when one night while you were crashing in one of Bobby's many cabins you got a call from Sam saying you needed to meet him as soon as possible. You never would've dreamed Dean was waiting with him.

You and the boys quickly settled back into the routine the three of you had gotten used to over years of hunting together. It worked so why try to fix it?

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

One night after a particularly bloody hunt you were washing your hands in the sink of the hotel the three of you had picked while Dean waited for you to stitch his arm. You glanced up and realized he was standing in the doorway, holding your bandana to the wound but his eyes were glued to your bare wrist "Dean, you good?" You asked him as you dried your hands off. Sam had already put your shoulder back in place and cleaned up well enough to go after food so it was just the two of you.

He shook his head almost as if he had been in a trance "Yeah, I'm good sweetheart" you narrowed your eyes "Either you're lying or having more ptsd from purgatory. Which is it?" He shrugged "I'm exhausted and starving" you laughed at his words "See? Easy enough to tell me what's really wrong"

Dean didn't want you to know he was staring at your soulmark because for the last year he'd been staring at the matching one. Hell you still didn't know exactly how he'd gotten out of purgatory. He'd told Sam the entire story and even introduced him to Benny the weekend you'd gone to help Jody out but happened to leave out the part about Benny being your soulmate. How the hell should he approach the fact when he knew that your aunt had gotten killed by a nest and that was when Bobby had found you? Hell you'd hated the soulmark since it first appeared, even trying to get a tattoo over it.

He sat still while you put three stitches in his arm then cleaned the wound about the time Sam came walking back in the door. Sam wanted to tell you about Benny but would he if he knew?

You laid across the backseat of the impala laughing as Dean purposely sang along badly to the radio just to make Sam groan. You weren't sure where the three of you were headed because both of them were being dodgy about it but you didn't care. You trusted them fully and if they said there was a case, there was a case.

You'd almost dozed off when you heard Dean's voice and thought at first he was talking to Sam but then he said "Yeah, we'll meet ya there" who? Were the three of you backing another hunter? And what was bad enough to warrant four sets boots on the dirt?

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

About an hour later you felt the impala lurch to a stop and sat up to see where you were. It looked like you'd headed south, were you in Louisiana?

The impala was parked in front of a gumbo shack. You motioned towards it with your hand "What are we doing here Dean?" He glanced back at you and shrugged "Don't know about you but I'm getting hungry. Figured we'd stop for a bite"

You weren't sure what the two of them was up to but you noticed him and Sam exchange a loaded look. "Is something going on?" You asked and was met with two innocent shrugs that were anything but. You wanted to argue more but your stomach growled and Dean grinned victoriously.

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

You followed the two of them into the doors of the gumbo shack. Music played from an old jukebox but whatever was cooking smelled amazing. You spotted a pretty brunette woman at the register who greeted the three of you warmly and said to sit anywhere.

You picked a corner booth, giving the boys the wall and putting your back to the room. Any other time you'd insist on your back to the wall but with them you knew you were safe.

You felt a familiar prickling at the back of your neck but ignored it when the pretty brunette walked over. Her name tag said Elizabeth and you could see Dean's dimples he was grinning so hard. "What can I get for you three?" She asked, her accent telling you she was from around here. You glanced at the menu then back at her "It all looks good. Any recommendations?"

She smiled warmly "looking for a sandwich or something filling?" You cut your eyes at Dean "We've been on the road a while so I'd say something filling" she nodded "Then I'd say the gumbo. It's my favorite" "All we needed to know. Three gumbos" she wrote down on her order pad then looked at the boys "Drinks?" "Tea" all three of you echoed. She laughed "Love an easy table. Roy will bring it over if I'm busy"

You watched her walk off then glanced back at Dean "If you don't try to get her number I am" he laughed "You're always eager on the button to bust me aren't ya?" You shrugged with a grin.

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

While you waited on your food you glanced around the inside of the restaurant. There were a few other patrons but your eyes landed on the man at the grill. He was around Dean's height, maybe a couple inches shorter but damn was he broad. He turned as if he could feel his eyes on you and when his blue eyes locked onto yours you felt your face warm. He was really good looking but you hated getting caught checking someone out.

The moment didn't go unnoticed by Dean who whistled low "Sweetheart are you claiming everyone in here today?" Refusing to let him see you blush you rolled your eyes "Why not?" He laughed and poor Sam looked just done with you both.

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

You were emailing Garth when you felt a shiver go up your back and looked up to see the man who'd been cooking was sitting bowls down in front of Dean and Sam. You met his eyes and he gave you a warm smile "Enjoy darling"

He extended his right hand to place a bowl in front of you but his sleeve was rolled up to his elbow exposing his wrist and the anchor marking. You froze staring at his wrist as the prickle ran across your back again.

You looked from the man to Dean, realization sitting in that this was your soulmate and he was a vampire. He gave the slightest shake of his head and you felt like you'd been dipped in ice water. He knew, both things. You felt tears spring to your eyes and looked at Sam but he looked just as guilty. "Guessing you still haven't told her?" The man asked and you started to shake your head. The two people you trusted had lied to you and apparently whatever God was responsible for soulmates had a sick sense of humor.

You stood up, shoving past the vampire and headed for the door. You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Why did you think springing all this on her was a good idea Dean?” Sam and Benny both had been under the impression he'd told you everything but it turned out he hadn't told you anything.

Dean shrugged “She couldn't attack him in a restaurant Sammy! I mean we know her thing with vamps, was there any good way of her reacting here?” Benny shook his head, feeling oddly protective of you even after only meeting you once “She shouldn't have found out like that” he snapped.

Dean cut his eyes at him, raising an eyebrow but Sam laughed lightly “He's met her now, it's his instincts to protect her” Dean nodded slowly “Soulmate shit is weird” then added “Sam track her phone we gotta find her”

Ok maybe storming off on foot in a town you didn't know with no money and only a handgun was a bad idea but how could they hide this from you?

You unsnapped the cuff as you walked, staring at the anchor. Why a vampire? And how had Sam and Dean met him and why hadn't they taken care of him before ever having the chance to find out he was your soulmate?

You shook your head and snapped it back. You needed to call them but you were still pissed.

—-------------------

You weren't sure how long or how far you walked before you heard the familiar rumble of the impala's engine pulling up next to you.

You stopped walking and heard Dean's voice “Sweetheart, I'm sorry. Please just get in and I'll tell you the entire story” you spun to face the car and realized it was only him “Where's Sam?” “With Benny. Now please get in”

You were hurt yeah but deep down you knew you could trust Dean with your entire life. You could give him the chance to explain even if it had better be the mount Everest of explanations.

About an hour later you and Dean were pulling up to a small cabin. When he parked you hesitated, picking at the cuff on your wrist “All I'm promising is to introduce myself. I trust you enough to trust him” he nodded “All I ask”

You climbed out the car behind Dean and followed him to the porch before realizing Sam and Benny were sitting on it watching the two of you. They stood as you got closer.

Dean looked from you to Benny before formally introducing the two of you. You took a deep breath before extending your hand. The moment Benny shook it there was a feeling like electricity that hit your mark. He must have felt it too. “Darling I didn't know Dean hadn't told you about me. I wouldn't have agreed to ambush you with this. I don't expect anything from you I just wanted to meet you once Dean told me about you, after he saw my mark or well after he saw my mark and fully trusted me”

—--------------

Like you'd noticed before he was good looking, broad with bright blue eyes and a crooked smile that made your heart flip and that accent was a killer. You almost forgot about him being a vampire, almost. “I didn't mean to react like that but me and vampires don't have a good track record” he nodded “Sam filled me in on your aunt”

You reached for his right hand and he gladly gave it to you, watching as you lightly traced the anchor on his skin “I have no clue why a hunter and a vampire were chosen for each other” he shrugged “When I was human and even after I was turned I figured I didn't have a soulmate because there was no mark but then this showed up”

You looked up at him “When?” When he told you how long the mark had been there you laughed “That was when I turned eighteen. So your soulmark showed up while you were in purgatory?” He nodded “Didn't figure I'd ever have a chance of meeting you until Dean landed there”

You realized you still had his hand so you dropped it gently before offering him a smile “Guess you're not that bad. You helped Dean, you don't feed off humans and you're not ugly” he laughed at that “And you're downright beautiful”

You shook your head “Easy Lafitte on the sweet talk” “Yes ma'am” he teased and you shook your head “I can offer you my friendship, if anything more comes we'll cross that bridge when we get to it but for now we can get to know each other” he smiled “I'd like nothing more”

[samcscreams]

Inspired by the absolutely talented @dreamersbcll

————————————————————————

It had not been an easy week for one Sam Carpenter. Hell it hasn’t been an easy life for her either but that’s beside the point. Because here she is standing in front of her baby sister mouth hanging open, words completely evading her mind as she realizes she’s been caught.

Caught red handed.

No not caught with drugs.

Nor alcohol.

Not even a boy or a girl.

No, Samantha Carpenter has been caught doing the one thing she vowed to never do in front of her precious baby sister.

She was caught talking to her father.

As you see the week started off normal, Sam, on her way to work stopped by CVS to pick up her prescription. Only to be greeted with the worst possible news other than another ghost face attack.

“Sorry there’s a shortage this month. We won’t be able to fill your prescription until next week at the earliest.” The pharmacist told Sam

Sam just stood there

“Ma’am? Did you hear me?” The pharmacist asked

“Ya um sorry so there’s no way I could get anything? Maybe a different drug for the same thing?” Sam asked timidly. Her hands were starting to shake at the implication of not having her prescription for over a week.

“That would require a new prescription sent in by your doctor” the pharmacist said matter of factly

“Right.” Sam stood there awkwardly feeling like she should have known that and that her desperation was starting to become detectable.

The pharmacist looked over Sams shoulder and yelled “next” causing Sam to jump and hurry out of the building.

Getting back in her car Sam let out a deep breath realizing she hadn’t breathed since the pharmacist told her the news. She gripped the steering wheel to steady herself as she caught her breath.

Only her breath wouldn’t catch.

Great a panic attack just what she needed. Her vision blurred as her breathing continued out of control. With shaky hands she tried to grab her phone.

Tara. She needed Tara’s voice. It was the one thing guaranteed to bring Sam back. But her hands were so shaky she couldn’t put in her password.

“Fuck”

She exhaled as tears pricked the back of her eyes. If god was real he had answered her prayers. Her phone was ringing and Tara’s beautiful name was flashing across the screen. She hit answer and before she could even say anything.

“Have you seen my English book? I know I was reading it on the couch last night but now it’s not here. Did you move it?” Tara says in one big breath

Hearing Tara instantly brought a wave of relaxation over Sam.

“I put it on your desk in your room. Didn’t want you to forget it.” Sam said sounding almost normal

“Are you okay?” Tara asked knowing something seemed off

“Oh ya just running late for work again” Sam felt guilty it wasn’t a lie per-say but it wasn’t the truth.

“Why are you late again? You left on time. Wait I found it.” Tara told her sister

“Great you should try and keep better track of your books they’re ridiculously expensive” Sam rebuttal choosing to ignore the first part of Tara’s questioning

“Well maybe next time you shouldn’t move my books. I have a very intricate organization method and your honestly messing it up”

Sam chuckled at her sister’s comment

“Okay okay I’ll leave your stuff alone. But I would reconsider that maybe the middle of the floor is a poor place for a book.”

“Ya ya ya get to work.”

“Okay fine. Love you baby girl”

“Love you too. Bye”

And just like that Sam was as good as new. Well for the most part. Sam raced off to work hoping the day would get better. It was only Monday morning and Her stomach turned at the thought of the rest of the week.

Tuesday was normal until Sam was about to head home and her car wouldn’t start. Causing her to use the subway. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. She mentally prepared herself for the stares and interactions she might face riding the subway. Luckily for Sam she made it home with only a few insults thrown her way. But as she was throwing herself onto her bed she couldn’t help but to think this was tuning into a week from hell.

Wednesday it all started to crumble. As Sam was riding the subway to work that morning she was accompanied by her father. In every window and reflection he was there lurking in the dark. It was like he could smell her fear, using it to latch on to her like a shadow. Maybe if she wasn’t caught in a staring contest with him in the window Sam might have seen the three high school boys readying themselves to dump whatever drinks they had on her. Her boss didn’t appreciate her new and improved work uniform. She was sent home with a warning. She just hoped tomorrow would be better. She had the day off and could really use it.

Thursday. It was only Thursday? She thought to herself as she woke up. It was 5 in the morning and time for her daily run. She normally would run later in the day when the sun was more out. But sleep was evading her and running seemed like a sweet escape she couldn’t refuse.

He was getting louder.

She needed every distraction she could today. Unfortunately, Tara had her long lecture today so Sam would be home most of the day alone. She couldn’t tell if she was happy about that or not. Half of her liked the idea that she would be alone. She wouldn’t have to fear anyone seeing her in this state of mind. But the other half craves to be seen, to be taken care of as she slowly descends into her unmediated mind.

“You’re a fighter Sam not a runner. When are you gonna except that” Billy’s voice was low and sharp in Sams mind. She new better than to look at her reflection as she got ready.

Sam left a note on the table for Tara before she left.

Couldn’t sleep. Went for a run. Have a good lecture. Love you

Running was good. Running felt safe. Sam could play her music as loud as she needed and push herself until her body no longer felt real. It was a runners high and she was addicted. Before she knew it she was back at their apartment building out of breath and in dire need of a shower.

Sam left her music on for as long as she could. It didn’t fix the problem but it definitely made it more manageable. After her shower she was about to make something to eat when her speaker died.

“No no no no not now” she said rushing to try and find a charger or her headphones. Both items seemingly fell into a void and disappeared.

“Can’t tune me out now. Can ya Sam”

Sam rolled her eyes. Great now she’s interacting. She can’t do this. She knows she can’t.

“Really Sam you’re gonna just ignore me.”Sam used to be good at it. It wasn’t until she started to understand herself more that tuning him out got harder.

“You know that never works.” He knows just way to say to get under her skin.

Sam starts pacing around her room. Covering her ears as if that would somehow make it stop.

“Is this really any way to treat your father. You need me Sam. Without me you’d be dead. Tara would be dead”

“With out you she would be alive. Truly alive and normal. She wouldn’t have to watch her back every day. Her connection to you. To me. Is what puts her in danger” Sam snapped back. She was yelling at this point her anger was getting the better of her.

He was everywhere. In every picture frame and mirror. In every corner. It was all just too much. She tried to think back to the last time she was off her meds for this long.

The Baileys her breath caught at the thought.

“Let it out Sam it’s inevitable” Billy cooed in her ear

“I’m not like you. I will never be like you. I kill to protect. I was protecting us. I was protecting Tara. Don’t you twist it any other way Billy” Sam was seething she didn’t realize that she was fully looking at Billy in a mirror. She didn’t know when she let go and looked at him.

“Sam?”

Tara. Sam heard Tara. Clear as day. She turned toward her bed room door and sure enough her baby sister was standing right in front of her. How long has she been there? What did she hear? Fuck fuck fuck. Sam was starting to spiral. She needed to say something. Anything would be better than the silence that was pulling them apart.

“I can explain” “my class got canceled”

Both girls said over each other.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“What?”

“It’s okay. I’ve heard you before.” Taras staring at the floor.

“What do you mean? Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked searching her sisters face for any type of answer it might give.

“I don’t want to push you to talk. It just seemed wrong to ask”

Sam slowly walked towards her sister. Half expecting her to step away as she got closer. Tara only stood there.

“Are you scared of me?” Sam barely got the words out. Her voice was so hushed Tara almost didn’t hear her say it.

“Are you kidding me? Of course not. Why would you ever ask that!” Tara snapped out of whatever was holding her back. She was now holding her big sister her protector around the waist and looking up into her eyes.

“I’ve been a lot of things at you But scared has never been one of them. You hear me Sammy. Never.”

Sam couldn’t say anything. She just relaxed into her sister.

“Why is it so bad? Are your meds not working?” Tara asked hesitantly

Sam took a second to respond. Her sister seemed to know exactly what was going on. A million questions danced in Sam’s mind but that was all for a later date.

“There’s a shortage in the area”

“Wait here” Tara took off to her bedroom and came back with a prescription bottle.

“Here. Are these them?” Tara asked handing the bottle to Sam

“But how?” Sam looked back at Tara who was beaming with pride

“Do you remember a few months back you said your doctor sent your prescription to the wrong place and they had to refill it at the new one. Well I went and picked up the meds from the other CVS across town. I thought maybe I could have them for emergencies just like how you have my spare inhaler for emergencies.” Tara was proud of herself. She wanted to be able to protect her big sister just like her big sister protects her.

“You are more than anything i deserve my love” Sam said as she placed a kiss atop Tara’s head.

Sam walked to the kitchen and popped two of her pills.

“So what shall we do with the rest of our free day?”

[clydethesnake]

Ocean Eyes

Prince!Bucky Barnes x Pirate!Reader

warnings: cursing, violence (they're pirates), angst, fluff

word count: 5.7k

synopsis: After narrowly escaping the royal guards who were looking for him after sneaking out, Prince James takes refuge unknowingly in the ship of one of the most notorious groups of pirates out there. Now, he not only has to navigate his way through life being captured on a pirate ship, but he also has to deal with the fact that the captain is one of the most attractive women he's met.

a/n: i love pirate aus so much and thought that there is not nearly enough where you are the pirate, so here. this took me forever and im so proud of it so i hope you like <33

The village was bustling with people as Prince James walked out of the warm tavern. The sun was high, making James sweat under the black cloak he was wearing in an attempt to conceal his identity. There were royal guards patrolling, looking for the Prince who left the castle unannounced, so a panic was in the air as they were trying to find the boy.

James saw them, silver chestplated men, swords in sheaths as they frantically asked people about him, while they marched their boots and the hooves of the horses around the fishing village. It was sure to cause an uproar if the people had caught wind of the news of the Prince’s disappearance. He was one of the only fully liked royals since the disease that was making its rounds through the village years ago. Of course, the village had recovered, but the people who lost family and friends had not forgiven the king for his lack of help during the awful times. James was lucky, he was only 14 by then, unable to do anything but watch the anguish come from his people.

Suddenly, the Prince caught the eye of a guard, one he disliked at that. Out of panic, James started running towards the docks desperately, stumbling over poor merchants barrels of food and tables of intricate jewels. Shouting out apologies left and right, his boot clad feet were pushing him onto a large ship, not noticing the cynical eyes of the skull on the flag flying high next to the unnaturally clean sails. He hid behind some crates which fully concealed his body while he watched the guard who just saw him frantically shout some things to the others and take off in the direction he went.

His plan was simple; wait until the guards left to look outside of the village, then leave the ship and make his way back to the castle. Easy right? That's what he told himself before multiple voices started shouting various things in slurred speech that he couldn’t quite make out from his loud heartbeat and bangs from the main deck, before the guards started getting smaller, turning into ants in the distance.

The boy was in panic; breathing becoming accelerated and palms sweating excessively as he did when he was nervous. This is beyond nervous. It was supposed to be an easy day; sneak out of the castle without accidentally notifying the guards, have a drink at the tavern he regularly visits, wander around the village and pick out a necklace or two for his mother’s birthday. And now he was on a moving ship, the village he calls home a mere blur in the distance.

His elongated visit on the ship was only going to get worse as two men approached him. The Prince’s vision went black as the younger of the two hit him over the head, successfully knocking the man out. The older took off the cloak and picked James up by the back of his shirt, hauling him over to the group of people on the other side of the deck.

“We have a stowaway on board, where do you want him, captain?” Sam asked you, Prince still in hand.

“Tie him to the mast.” Your voice came out uncaring as you waved your hand dismissively in the man’s direction, looking over at the horizon. “We’re set for Gamswell.” Gamswell was a nasty place. It was full of cheap prostitutes and drunken pirates. However, your crew insisted on visiting, wanting to experience the thrills and adventures of Gamswell. Having been there a multitude of times, you were hesitant, but saw the excitement on your men’s faces and decided to allow it.

Swinging over the railings you land a few metres away from the mast as the man wakes up. He has a small cut on his right cheek -you assume from the hit from Sam- and is wearing a basic white tunic and trousers. His shoes look expensive, a large contrast to the generally basic and cheap outfit. 

You raise your eyebrow looking at the expensive looking rings adorning his dirty hands, and a single gold chain with a charm laying on his slightly exposed chest. “This guy don’t look poor.” You told Sam, who was still next to you, admiring the expensive jewels covering different parts of his body.

Before the conversation can carry on, the man starts to groan before his eyes shoot open. “Who are you?” He sounds nervous as he figures out what’s happened. 

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at the man before carding your fingers through his short hair and yanking his head up to meet his eyes. “Who are you? What are you doing on my ship!?” You stare into his eyes.

“I’m sorry! I was running away from some guards and ended up here. I promise I didn’t mean to invade.” You look into his steel blue eyes with suspicion, “My name’s James Barnes.” He told you, honesty seeping through his voice. He definitely didn’t want to anger you anymore than you already seemed. You let go of his head and stepped back next to Sam. 

You looked back at the man next to you and shrugged, while he gave you a big, malicious smirk and walked off to take the wheel from Peter.

“Listen, just drop me off at the next port and I’ll be out of your hair.” The man on the mast looked up to meet your eyes once your first mate had walked away.

“And what makes you think I’d listen to you? You sneak aboard my ship and you’re asking to be let free? Boy, you don’t know pirates at all.” You shook your head in mock disappointment before moving closer to him once again, face now serious, “what about you would make me want to let you free so early on? I could use an extra helping hand.” You grinned maniacally before stepping back once again, “Welcome aboard The Serpent’s Revenge, James Barnes.”

You almost felt bad for the man, but this is what happens to stowaways on your ship, they get tied to the mast and damned to the icy depths of the sea after accidentally coming loose during a particularly rough storm. It has happened a multitude of times, each time bringing an uncomfortable weight on your shoulders but it had to happen. Men like these were unfortunate creatures, they get their egos chipped away by you after challenging you to a duel, or attempting a one person mutiny against you as a pathetic try in stealing your pride and joy, The Serpent’s Revenge. However, they never stayed long throughout their attempts at driving a sword through your heart, or escaping the mast, which usually resulted in a shot between the eyes from Clint, who was usually found scouting in the crow’s nest day and night.

It had been days since the stray prince made his way onto your ship. It had been days since he was first tied to the mast. There was a sort of sympathy you felt for the poor boy, something you’ve never felt for stowaways before. Deciding to listen to the angel on your shoulder rather than the devil, you decided to let him down during a storm, which you had sailed right into on your quest to Gamswell.

The rain beat heavily down on polished wood and thunder clapped around you as you were searching for your first mate, who you saw ordering men around, surrounded by people grabbing buckets and throwing water back overboard. “Sam! Take him down to the brig!!” You shout to the man, who dropped the bucket he was holding and ran over to the passed out prince. 

Everything after that was a bit blurry. You were still at the wheel, guiding your crew through the rough waters and loud shouts of overthrown men. After a night of battling the large, desecrating waves you were able to rest, your crew being happy to allow you to retreat to your quarters early morn.

James was still tied up, though he was now in one of the cells that were below deck. Every once-in-a-while, someone would bring down some scraps, a small bottle of rum and whatever else you didn’t need to keep him alive, but just enough for him to not be any real trouble.

You felt sympathy for the boy, knowing what it's like to be kept in a cell, tied up while people's normal lives continued on around you, completely ignoring you. However, you knew what you had to do, and kept him suffering in the iron bars a while longer, though you did decide to throw him out at Gamswell, which, arguably, is worse than being locked in a damp cell.

There was only a couple times that you actually visited the cell, to give the man some food, and to make sure he hadn’t escaped or died or anything. He did get some visitors after a ship had attacked you, a futile attempt at taking down the most notorious group of pirates. However, the visit was short lived once your crew chopped the men down one by one, not before they took a glance at you, however, a well known pirate for leaving no survivors, and the for the fact that you were a woman, of course.

Superstitious bastards.

The monotonous drip of leaking seawater was all that entered James’ ears, along with the drunken singing of your men and harsh footsteps above him. His blue eyes were disorientated as they looked around, not staying in one place for long before studying another part of the worn down wood that made up the ceiling. He lay in the corner of his cell, feeling the cool metal of the cell behind him, taking in deep breaths of salty air that was seeping through the small cracks in the walls. 

Wasn’t he feasting on large, hearty meals and sipping on the best wine only weeks ago? 

It felt like months.

There hadn’t been anyone down to visit him in a couple of days, seemingly forgetting about his body, soon to be rotting in the cold cell by himself. 

During his wallowing in self-pity, his ringing ears didn’t pick up on the heavy footsteps coming down to greet him. His ocean eyes looked up, seeing your familiar dusty brown boots and long leather jacket.

You roll your eyes and shake your head in mock offence, “Don’t seem too surprised to see me.” 

James’ eyebrows furrow, “I’m not exactly pleased. You did lock me in here.” He says before sitting up to get a better view of you, blood rushing back to his head making him feel dizzy for a minute.

“Yeah, sorry about that, love.” You laugh mockingly, before chucking a small flask into the cell as well as handing him a bowl of small scraps of leftover fish and potatoes that they still had from when James first appeared on their ship after stopping. It was probably the most food he’d had in the last few days, which James was happy for.

“What happened to me eating fish bones?” James questioned curiously, looking up to meet your eyes.

You tilt your head condescendingly, “What? Would you rather go back to that?” The brunette backs down instantly, taking the small metal bowl from your hand and sitting back in the corner of the cell and digging in, watching your retreating figure walking casually up the stairs.

Much to his surprise, you come back down only minutes later, a key in your right hand. “Thought you would’ve finished by now.” You snorted in amusement, a clinking noise followed by a loud creak being heard as you opened the door to the cell. You both start walking up the first flight of stairs to the hammocks where one or two men were wiping the floors.

James looked surprised, “Why are you letting me go?” He asks incredulously. 

“Because, we have reached our destination.” You continue to walk up the stairs as he watches you from behind.

He follows you up the stairs with a confused expression, though you could not see it.

“Usually, I would keep stowaways on board until their bodies slip from under the ropes from the mast during a storm and get thrown overboard from not being able to hold themselves up, or keep ‘em in the brig till they rot.” James pulls a face as you continue, “I decided to have mercy on you and drop you off at the next pirate port, though I must warn you, it isn’t the loveliest of places.” You explain to the boy, who is now not looking the happiest and throw him a dopey smile as you reach the wheel.

The moon was high in the sky as you reached Gamswell, the air chillier than expected. You could feel the excitement radiate throughout the ship, though you and James were not feeling the same way. Sam’s face lit up as he took a look at the bustling town reaching the end of the bay at the docks, where you had just arrived. “Thank you so much, Captain.” He shook your arm slightly with excitement before climbing onto the wooden docks taking him into the heart of the village. 

James was standing beside you, watching the relaxed expression on your face slowly dissipate as you docked. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like it here. Maybe he could convince you otherwise, to drop him at a different port. Or maybe he could join your crew? It wasn’t something he ever considered, but surely it would be better than whatever was waiting for him in this vile village.

The water was twinkling like the stars currently in the sky off the side of the docks as you and James slowly followed off the ship. James now knew what you meant by ‘it is not the loveliest of places’, there were prostitutes with their chests out, singing drunken sea shanties with wasted sailors and pirates looking for a good time. Fights were breaking out all over the place, people shooting and stabbing each other over the smallest of issues. It’ll definitely linger.

“Charming little village, ain’t it?” You smiled at the man, who was silently freaking out at the thought of being left here with nothing but a name.

James pinched his nose together to avoid the smell as much as possible as you made your way to a small tavern, which was not too occupied. There were a few people engaged in heated arguments, looking like they’re on the verge of a fight and drunken pirates singing lively songs with women on their arms. It gave a warm feeling, though it was far from James’ preferred place to be. You escorted him to a small table close to the corner, further away from the sudden fist fights and immediately left to get drinks. 

“You aren’t actually going to leave me here, are you?” He gives you a small look as you return with two mugs of mead in an attempt at making you feel bad.

“I’m sorry, love, but there’s not much I can do about that. Unless you are willing to become a part of the crew.” You shrug, taking a big sip out of the mug and smiling at a pirate who winked at you from the bar.

There was a few seconds of silence before he spoke again, “What if I am?” 

You turn around to meet his eyes, finding them completely serious, “If you are, then I suppose we could find you a spot amongst the crew.” Now, normally you wouldn’t offer that kind of hospitality, but you had a soft spot for the man. You don’t know what’s come over you, what happened to no remorse for stowaways? Either way, you couldn’t resist those bright blue eyes, seemingly having found their shine outside of the cell he had been locked in.

“Thank you so much! I-” 

He got cut off by another voice, “Hey! Don’t that look like the missin’ prince?” The voice was gravelly as a dirty finger pointed towards the man sitting in front of you, along with several other voices that agreed with him.

Your eyebrows furrowed as James spoke up, quickly dismissing the dirty man, “No! I’m not.” It was almost suspicious the pace that he did, but you decided to ignore it and return your focus back on the brunette.

“I sure hope you’re not, fuck the royals.” You curse, taking a big swig from your mug of mead.

“Y-yeah, don’t worry. I’m far from a prince.” James mimics you nervously, also drinking.

The night went on with drinking and more drinking, you both becoming progressively more drunk. You were both dancing, arm in arm, to a sea shanty that was being bellowed significantly louder than it was when people were more sober. You were being tossed around, twirling around with different men, only taking a break for a sip from the canteen of rum strapped to your belt. It was well through the night before you both decided to leave and find a room to sleep.

The streets were still lively, though not as much as it was before you entered the tavern. The dirt roads were illuminated by the golden candlelight of the occasional lamps scattered around on buildings. 

You stopped before a large building, from the outside, it looked old, cozy and rather welcoming. Large stacked stones and hardwood pillars make up the outer structure, a golden glow coming from the lamps resting over the glass acting as windows. From the outside, you can see that it’s not that busy, knowing that it is now a lot later than you intended to be, but you could still hear the hustling and bustling of hardworking people on the inside. You both enter, feeling the warmth contrasting the slightly chilly air outside. 

You immediately recognise the man at the front desk, having met him years ago when he joined your crew.

“Y/N! What a lovely sight!” The french man greets you with a warm smile. He almost doesn’t belong here, such a sweet person in such a nasty place, but looks can deceive. Éric Garreau was an ex-pirate, he was a ruthless member of your crew, until one day he decided that he wanted to settle down, having had enough of the unpredictable life of a pirate. Of course you were sad when such a valued crew member and friend decided to abandon ship on your second stop in Gamswell, but you were happy when he came to you to tell you his true feelings instead of trying to hide it. Now he was married with a child on the way and a successful business, and you couldn’t be happier for him.

“Éric!” You opened your arms wide, allowing the large man to engulf you in a hug.

“I see you’ve come here with a man again, a single room I’m guessing?” He tried to joke and you laughed, but James beside you furrowed his eyebrows.

“Unfortunately not tonight, Éric. How about two rooms?” You try to play it off, not letting James see your flaming cheeks at the insinuation. Éric gets the hint and goes behind the counter to grab your two keys. 

“Oh! You must join us for breakfast, Elise has asked about you recently.” He smiled genuinely, passing you and James each a silver key.

“I’d love to.” You nod your head politely; something James had never seen you be before, it almost makes him respect you a little more.

“And your friend is more than welcome to come too.” Éric continues with his teasing, getting a kick out of making his friend blush and attempting to hide it.

“Thanks Éric…” You roll your eyes jokingly at the man before heading towards the creaky stairs in the corner, dimly illuminated with two candles meticulously placed on the bannister. You and James part ways not long after, him creaking open the door next to yours, playfully saluting. 

It wasn’t long after your head hit the lumpy pillow that you fell fast asleep.

Despite your words to Éric last night, it was agreed to set sail early morn with your new crew member, and unfortunately wouldn’t be able to catch up with Elise and Éric. As much as you wanted to, your loyalty and heart lies with the Serpent’s Revenge and devoted crew. You couldn’t even imagine the uproar it will cause when you announce that the previous stowaway is now joining the crew initially, but it will be sure to end in a joyous night of rambunctious laughter and booze.

The sun was high over the horizon by the time you set sail, merchants just setting up their stalls by the docks and deserted taverns reopening slowly. You could smell the sea, the comforting smell settling deep in your bones as you looked over the wheel. All was peaceful. 

It was like that for days. The crew bustled around the deck; James even helped out here and there. 

“Sure you know what you’re doin’?” You question the brunette, watching him hold the wheel and turn it cautiously. “It’s not that delicate, you don’t have to hold it like china!” You scold as he strengthens his weak grip on the wheel and becomes more confident, “That’s it!” You smile at him, something you’ve found yourself doing a lot more around him recently. Maybe he’ll be more useful than I thought.

“A-Am I?” He asks in mild shock, smiling back eagerly. 

The moment was interrupted as Clint shouts down from the crow’s nest, “Uhh, Captain. We’ve got an issue!” He slides down the rope, “Royal Navy.” He says simply, but you can sense the fear in his voice.

“It’s not a problem, we’ve taken them before!” You shout, trying to reassure your crew.

“Yeah, Captain, at the cost of many men.” Sam looks towards you dubiously, eyebrows furrowed as your men agree. 

You scowl, “Raise the jolly roger.” Is your final order before your crew disperse, raising your flag and preparing for the battle. You turn back to James, who has a worried look on his face, “You got a problem?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’ve really fought the navy before?” He seems shocked.

“You don’t just come across other pirates on the seas, James. We’re ‘criminals’, wanted people.” As much as you hate to admit it, you were named criminals for wanting to be free. For wanting a life on the sea. “Good luck.” Were your last words, hearing your crew shout louder as the ship comes closer, firing cannons towards the delicate wood. 

You saw the officers in their blue navy uniforms, delicate buttons and powdered wigs and scoffed. Why should they and the royal family get all of these expensive jewels and money to show off how rich they are when your family suffered for food each day? Why should they get to live in their country estates and grand palaces while they watch their people suffer with disease and poverty? It’s pathetic. For years you suffered, watched your family become ridden with disease when you were only a child before you fled. There was nothing left for you there. From then on, a hatred for the royals grew and grew as the memories repeated in the dead of night. Your crew have all come from similar backgrounds; poverty and disease. Maybe it’s why the bond is so strong. Why you’ve been able to become one of the most feared pirates to sail the seas. And you’re proud of that title.

This crew was the only family you had left.

And you’d be damned to lose them to some entitled snobs.

You had been fighting for hours. 

Your arms ached, ears rang and head pounded. 

You hadn’t seen James for hours, you only wished he hadn’t been killed. It was only then you saw him; injured on the deck. He was hiding behind a crate, in a similar position to how he was found, and he was holding his stomach where blood was soaking into his white shirt. Your heart pounded at the sight, quickly lowering your pistol into the holster on your hip and running to him, sure to avoid any officers.

His wound was deep, likely from a dagger, you assessed as you came towards him. He looked up, eyes squinting slightly as if he couldn’t quite recognise who you were. “Y-Y/n?” He asked weakly. 

“I’m right here, don’t worry.” You applied pressure to his wound, moving his hands out of the way. Luckily you were still out of sight behind a barrel, but you’re sure it won’t be long before you’re found. “I’ve got you, everything’s going to be fine.” You reassure, but it seems more like you’re trying to reassure yourself.

The surroundings were loud; swords clashed in the backgrounds, men shouted and screamed in pain. But it was just the two of you. 

It was then you were brought back to reality as you felt cold metal against your neck. Quickly, you took in a sharp inhale as you watched James’ eyes flutter closed. 

“Quick! I found the Prince and he’s injured!” A gravelly voice shouts from behind you, the one with the dagger to your neck. He leans closer to your ear, his hot breath hitting the side of your face and you cringe in disgust. “What were you doing with the missing Prince, wench?” He hisses meanly in your ear, but you can only focus on one thing.

Missing Prince.

Your mind raced. How could you have let this happen? You let this rich bastard onto your ship. You should’ve realised who it was, you should have realised that night at the bar. The man said he looked like the missing prince. Anger coursed through your veins at the thought of letting royalty onto your ship, something you swore would never happen. 

Then why do you not hate him? A small voice whispers in the back of your mind. 

But you refused to listen as you were dragged up by the man, his soot covered hand leaving a handprint on the back of your neck. You watched the Prince get taken away, being carried as carefully as possible by two sailors. 

Your nostrils flared and you curled your hands into balls as the man behind you grabbed them and shoved them roughly into iron handcuffs. “I suggest you keep quiet.” And for once, you complied. Normally, you’d talk his ear off to annoy him, but you just wanted to figure out why. 

Why would he want to be a part of your crew if he was royalty? He could have anything he wanted, so why would he want to join your crew. He seemed genuine enough, but you should’ve known better.

You were pushed roughly over the gangplank onto the navy’s ship. You couldn’t face your crew, ashamed at the fact you’d allowed royalty onto the ship when everyone had a hatred for them. The officers all sneered at you, faces twisting up in disgust as you were shoved down the stairs and into a cell. The door was left ajar as you were forced into the cell, before being shut roughly and locked with a key the man placed in his pocket. “No escape attempts, alright wench? Or we’ll have a problem.”

You only scoffed, not giving the disgusting man a reaction before sighing deeply and sliding down the wooden wall, facing the cell door. 

How the tables have turned.

It must’ve been weeks before you docked. 

The cell door was yanked open, making you flinch ever so slightly at the grating noise. A gloved hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you up harshly. You were dragged through the ship, walking past your crew who had also been captured, the few cells almost overflowing with people. 

Your dusty boots padded against the wooden floor of the ship as you walked up the stairs. James was nowhere to be found, most likely having already been escorted off the ship. 

The sun was bright, beating down on your face almost in punishment as you walked to the cell, where you would await your death. 

It hardly seemed fair; being punished for wanting to be free.

Alas, you were handed between guards roughly, each of them dragging you through the stone walls of the fort. You knew where you were headed, where the rest of the captured pirates are shoved together in a singular dusty cell as they wait to be called for the gallows. 

You never thought you’d end up here. It was always your assumption that you would live out your life on the high seas, drinking booze with your family and singing sea shanties at the top of your lungs until you passed out on the deck. That was freedom. Not whatever these poor peasants live, and you're sure they would agree. 

But everyone’s high streak must come to an end eventually. 

Everything passed as a blur from then on. Teasing wolf whistles and jokes came from the other side of the cell, but the energy to stop them wasn’t there. You were taken first. Dragged back out through the walls of the fort and into a courtyard. The small stones and hot dust burn your feet as you’re pushed through the crowd. You looked up, bleary eyes looking for his face. Those ocean eyes.

You spotted them, eyes widening as you saw him there. He was back in noble clothes; a long, decorative coat despite the scorching weather, beige knee breeches and a notable frown on his face.

He mouthed something to you.

I’m sorry.

It was all you could make out before you were shoved up the oak stairs, feet slipping slightly due to your weakening body. 

You stood there on the platform, seeing the scowles from the nobles and peasants alike; one similarity you could find between the two classes.

The drums began, loud and menacing, echoing throughout the village, sending shivers through your spine. A loud voice came from behind you, beginning to read the list of your crimes.

“Y/N L/N, accused of piracy and treason against the crown, you are sentenced to hang from the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your soul.” Your ears rang and head ached with the cheering that followed. 

It wasn’t long after your hanging was announced that it happened.

A shot came from a top corner of the fort, hitting the executioner directly in the head. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he hit the ground beside you. It wasn’t long before the shouting started. The crowd was bustling as people made their way through, pushing the spectators to the ground to get through the crowd. 

You whipped your head around to where you had seen James. He had a large smile on his face before he rose from his seat, climbing down the large step to push through the crowd towards you. 

Sam appeared first, “What? You didn’t think we’d let you die, did you Cap?” He smirked and winked, reaching his hand out to you before realising what he did, “Oops, sorry.” He quickly ran up the steps, stealing the key off the executioner before unlocking your hands and passing you your pistol. 

You smiled at the feeling of it back in your hands, “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” You jokingly kiss the barrel, causing Sam to roll his eyes before the Prince reaches the bottom of the platform. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry!” He shouted over the commotion. 

You rolled your eyes at him, “We’ve no time for that! We have to get out of here.” You looked around at the rest of your crew fighting the guards, the rest of the guests having fled the fort quickly.

He just nodded before taking out a concealed pistol from his breeches. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “You know how to use that?” You asked, walking down the stairs to stand next to him. 

“I’m sure it can’t be too hard!” He smiled dubiously, raising the pistol and firing the shot directly into the wall. “Uhh…” He turned the gun in his hands a few times, inspecting it, “I think it’s broken.” 

Once again, you only roll your eyes before seeing the many more officers come into the fort through the archways, armed with muskets and bayonets, “Shit!” 

You look towards Sam just as he strikes down another guard and he only smiles reassuringly, “Don’t worry, cap. We got it. Go get your ship.” He points his gun towards the archway out of the fort.

You grab James’ hand and run. He grips your hand back and squeezes, a small gesture of comfort and reassurance, but also a sorry. You smile at his kindness even in stressful times as you come up to the wall. 

He takes off his heavy jacket, leaving it in a heavy heap on the ground and him in just a waistcoat and white shirt. He looks towards you and smiles before stepping up onto the ledge and you do the same. 

The water is deceivingly cold as your body hits it. Despite it being a warm day, the water is freezing. You surface, moving the hair out of your face as you meet James’ eyes opposite you. 

“You know, I always thought your eyes looked like the ocean.” You smirk at him. 

“Oh yeah?” He comes closer towards you, cupping your face in his hands, warming your cheeks slightly before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Yeah…” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, slotting your lips over his. He kisses back eagerly, smiling against you before pulling away. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” He chuckles, his face going slightly pink. 

“Have you now?” You go to tease him, but loud shouting comes from beside you both. 

“Are you guys gonna get on or what?” Sam shouts down at the two of you before throwing down a rope. 

You grab his hand, “Are you sure? You can’t go back after this.” 

He only smiles, “I’m sure.”

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

hey, i’m the same person from the sugar daddy blaine ask. and unfortunately, it’s none of those and i didn’t see it in your tags either.

idk if this is gonna help at all but i remember a few scenes. like one where blaine has a car pick up kurt to bring him to a restaurant. even kurt gets to the restaurant, he realizes that it’s more expensive than any restaurant he’s even imagined eating at. blaine kinda has a talk with him, saying stuff like “what did you think this was going to be, kurt? i’m going to spoil you and if you think that’s going to make you uncomfortable, then we probably shouldn’t continue this further.”

i SWEAR i read it, but im starting to feel like i hallucinated it bc i can’t find it anywhere!! and i remember so many specific details that i feel like i couldn’t have possibly have made it up.

so i really hope someone finds it and maybe this detail will help a bit

I searched and searched our wealthy!Blaine tag, and came up empty. The closest I got to your premise is this one, but Sam is friends with rich Blaine:

For Richer, For Poorer by @bananacabana

For Blaine, dating has never been easy. Time after time, he ends up with sleazy guys who are only interested in one thing: his impressive bank account. When he meets Kurt, however, Blaine decides to ‘play it poor’, with the hopes that someone might actually like him rather than how much money he earns.

I don't recall any such fic where Sam and Kurt are roomies and suggests a sugar daddy dating app. Readers - if you think you know this story, please share! Thanks. ~Lynne