#rather than what sam is getting more suspicious of which is that they are more powerful than he originally thought

[cult-of-the-eye]

To add to the Alice is secretly untrustworthy theories: her giving the computers and the voices names could be her downplaying their significance, like oh don't pay attention to what they're actually saying, it's just Chester talking his nonsense again

[winterarmyy]

My Person

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.

Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.

The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.

But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much,  especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.

And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.

It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.

"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.

"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.

Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."

Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.

Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.

Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.

This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.

"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"

Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"

"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.

Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.

Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"

Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.

His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.

"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.

You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.

Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.

Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.

If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.

Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."

She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.

"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.

"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.

"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.

Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."

"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.

"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."

Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."

She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.

As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.

Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her.  When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.

And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:

- write his journal entry

- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money

- grocery shopping and cooking

- watch the news

- and mostly just stay at home

Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.

What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.

Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.

She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.

Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.

It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.

Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.

The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.

Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.

Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.

Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.

It was true. But, it felt so wrong.

"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.

"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.

And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.

Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.

Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."

Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words,  "What. Am. I. To. You?"

It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."

He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"

Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.

"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.

The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"

"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."

"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"

Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."

"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."

Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.

"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.

His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.

His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"

He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,

"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.

His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."

And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀

[ghoastixx]

SPN Boys w/ angel wing tattoo gn! reader

Synopsis: The Supernatural boys reaction to finding out you have angel wings tattooed onto your back.

Warnings: Mention of possible innuendos

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Dean

When he sees them for the first time, he's suspicious. He's seen angels, knowing how tricky they can get.. Perhaps you were just another trick of Heaven to make him vulnerable. He doesn't like it

Once you both confirm that no, you are in fact not an angel, he chills out about it a bit.

Definitely asks you if you regret it now that you both know how big of dicks angels are.

Doesn't really ask about it. The most he would do is get drunk and ask why you got it but that's it. He really doesn't care much.

As much as he's indifferent about it, he'd eventually grow to adore it.

"Hey! Angel!" Castiel looks over, "No, not you. Y/N."

I personally think he would like to look at them. He would like it if you wore shirts with the back showing or no shirt at all.. He just wants to see them.

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Sam

Much like his brother, he's a little suspicious at first, would interrogate you.

"Y/N," "Yes Sam?" "What's that tattoo for?" "Which tattoo." "On your back." "Angel wings?" "Yes." "Just liked them." "Oh."

He would trust you, especially if you have other tattoos that don't have to do with hunting or the such.

Would ask you about them, constantly referring to them as "Your wings."

A long day of interrogation of a town? He's patting the spot next to him on the small motel bed saying, "C'mere, I'll rub your wings for 'ya."

Messy hunt? "Go clean your wings off, Y/N."

It's even funnier if Dean doesn't know about the tattoo. He's so confused as to why his brother keeps mentioning you having wings. Assumes it's sexual.

He just..adores them? In a way he feels as if you are an angel sent to keep him in line.

He'd rather have you than other angels anyways.

Would 100% call you angel out of it. Forget any other nickname he may of been trying out, you are now just angel.

"So, angel, get this.."

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Castiel

He doesn't understand at first. At all. He will ask you about it.

"Why are you pretending to be an angel?" "Excuse me?" "You have wings drawn on.." "Oh, my tattoo?"

Once you explain it to him, he calms down a bit, but he's still a bit confused. Why did you get it, why angel wings? Why the specific design? Why on your back? Did it hurt? Lots of questions.

He likes them. Why wouldn't he? It makes him feel closer to you in a way.

Dean will refer to you two as "the match made in heaven."

It's cheesy.

I think Castiel would like tracing over them with his finger, dedicating it to mind.

He likes having something in common with you, in a way. He thinks it's endearing.

"Y/N," "Yes, angel?" "Take your shirt off," "Oh-Cas-" "I would like to examine your tattoo."

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Gabriel

Oh this cocky bastard.

He's honored, for starters, or at least that's what he says.

"oh-Baby, what's that you got there?" "Gabriel, what are you talking about." "Those delicious wings you've been hiding from me."

He understands the concept of tattoos more than Castiel does, so he doesn't have too many questions.

He just thinks that they are hot, and honestly he is so valid for that.

"I mean- these are almost better than the real things!"

He likes to tease you about them, since he's in fact the inspo.

But, happy spouse is a happy house, he does constantly talk about how much he likes them. Constantly.

"C'mon sugar, let me see them again, please???" He loves to look at it, touch it, etc.

He gets sad when he remembers you don't actually have wings.

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Lucifer

I do not think he'd be a fan.

Sure, he stands you as a human, but.. a human pretending to be an angel?

"Darling, you realize you're not an angel, correct?" "Yes, Luci." "Just making sure."

Sure, he wouldn't say anything about it to drive you away, but he thinks you have a lot of nerve.

He doesn't like to think about it too much.

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Crowley

Bud does not really like them much due to what they represent but he really doesn't care.

He'd go so far as to just call you an angel to go along with it.

he's really indifferent about it :/

[theresattrpgforthat]

The one part of D&D that still hooks me every time is the thrill of character creation. Tweaking all those numbers, the min-ing, the max-ing, all to put together a vision of a character and the life they've led. Are there any solo games that scratch that itch?

THEME: Solo Character Depth

Hello there! So much of what I’m familiar with in regards to solo play has a pretty light character creation compared to games like D&D, because the game itself is where you get to piece together that character’s life. Big shoutout to the Lone Adventurer, a You-tuber who plays solo games and records his play sessions - you might find more games that interest you on his channel!

KUROI, by Candlenaut.

Kuroi is a cyberpunk setting which pays homage to the greatest giants of the Cyberpunk genre, of which the author has been a die-hard fan since the early 90s.

The game is played on a 6x6 inch grid and is a so-called micro wargame. You progress from level to level of a heavily guarded corporate building, trying to fulfill the objectives of your Heist. The game uses a unique Action roll system with two re-rolls (Yatzee style) that you must tactically manage in your turn by using these dice to buy various actions and enhance them. In the game, you can choose several ways to progress through each level, you can be stealthy or manipulate enemies or go all out with your entire arsenal.

This is a micro skirmish game, so much like D&D, your character is built with combat in mind. You play through levels, trying to get around or fight through various enemies. Your character has skills and actions, although rather than rolling for your stats, you distribute a range of numbers according to your strengths. The higher your skill points, the more resources you have, in the form of re-roll. You also have descriptive characteristics, which you can fill in as you like.You can also look at a play through of the game on the Lone Adventurer’s YouTube channel!

Anamnesis, by Sam Leigh.

You play as an individual who has woken up with memory loss. You do not remember who you are, where you are, or what you care about. As you draw tarot cards, you fill the blank spaces of your past and learn more about your present. There is no winning or losing in Anamnesis - the goal is to tell a story and discover the identity of the character you've created.

Anamnesis as a game is entirely about character creation. You use a deck of tarot cards to provide prompts: your character is someone who has to piece together pieces of their backstory slowly, as pieces of the world around them remind them of who they used to be. If you like slowly discovering a backstory using vivid imagery and symbolism, you might like Anamnesis.

Notorious, by Always Checkers Publishing.

Notorious is a sci-fi tabletop roleplaying game for one player. Play to tell stories of the Nomads; notorious bounty hunters who strike fear among the scum & villainy of the universe & follow the dubious code of the Nomad's Guild.

In the midst of an intergalactic war, you'll take on a lucrative contract from one of six factions. The job is simple: bring the target back, dead or alive—no disintegrations.

But your presence won’t go unnoticed. 

Your growing reputation also attracts a series of hostiles. Suspicious locals who simply don’t like you (& their friends might not either), rival Nomads or faction agents working against you.

Notorious feels pretty fleshed out, with races, origins, load out and personalities that all come into play when you create your character. You play through a hunt, with descriptions of your mark and the planets they may be hiding out on determined through random rolls. Part of your character is randomly rolled, but these pieces feel like an outline that you can fill in.

You can check out a play-through of this game on the Lone Adventurer’s channel. If you want to follow the story of a lone bounty hunter like Boba Fett or the Mandalorian, this might be the game for you.

Ironsworn, by Shawn Tomkin.

In the Ironsworn tabletop roleplaying game, you are a hero sworn to undertake perilous quests in the dark fantasy setting of the Ironlands.

Others live out their lives hardly venturing beyond the walls of their village or steading, but you are different. You will explore untracked wilds, fight desperate battles, forge bonds with isolated communities, and reveal the secrets of this harsh land. Are you ready to swear iron vows and see them fulfilled—no matter the cost?

I don’t think Ironsworn really leans into the min-maxing that you’re looking for, but it does have a wealth of character options, especially if you consider the Starforged and Sundered Isles expansions. Characters choose three Modules that can represent your skills, tools, or companions, all of which help flesh out who you were before you started adventuring. You develop the character as you play, expanding on their abilities and forging bonds with NPCs as you complete quests. Your character isn’t a blank slate before you start, but I think much of the fleshing out happens as you roll.

Ironsworn isn’t solely a solo game, but it’s definitely designed with solo players in mind. The base game is free, so you can try it out without having to pay anything before you have to make a decision to buy any of the supplements!

Colostle, by Nich Angell.

Colostle is a solo RPG rulebook that allows you to play a single player adventure campaign through the impossible and incredible world of the Colostle.

The Colostle is a castle so big that there are oceans, mountains and cities within its rooms! There is no 'outside' to the Colostle, everything is within. And stalking these Roomlands, are the Rooks, huge walking stone castle towers that attack anything they see, but hold the Rookstones, the only source of magic in this world.

Colostle uses character classes, similar to D&D, complete with stats attached to your class choice. However, the game uses a deck of cards that you draw to help determine what happens next when you fight and/or explore. You also choose a calling; a reason why your character is questing in this gigantic castle. Compared to many other solo games that I’m familiar with, this game is much more structured and similar to traditional fantasy games, so Colostle might be worth checking out.

You can watch a how-to-play video for Colostle here!

[waywardxwords]

Witches

Summary: While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~4.2k

Warnings: DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18; THIS CONTENT IS RATED M FOR MATURE Swearing, Supernatural-y things (witches), sex pollen trope, smut (p in v, f masturbation), fluff

A/N: This is my first time writing Dean smut and also my first time using the whole sex pollen trope. But this was fun, and I enjoyed writing it. If you’re feeling up to it, please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

There wasn’t anything you hated more in this supernatural world than witches. They were ruthless, conniving and downright batshit crazy. But alas, if you and your hunting buddies didn’t hunt them, then no one would. They would continue wreaking havoc on anyone they wanted, and you couldn’t have that.

So now you found yourself in the living room of a woman you had suspected spent her free time doing witchy things. You had no idea what you were looking for–bones, spell books, weird herbs or plants; the options were literally endless. 

All you knew: people in this town all connected to this woman were ending up in rather interesting predicaments and you were determined to find out why. 

“Don’t touch anything that looks suspicious,” Dean’s voice came through the other line as you used one hand to press your phone to your ear. “I really wish you would’ve waited for me. We should’ve gone in together.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no time for that,” you muttered as you searched. There were a bunch of old books, but none of them screamed hocus pocus to you. You fumbled with a tiny wooden trinket box that had intricate lines and details on the outside. As you lifted the lid, you saw it contained some kind of yellowish-green powder. “This is interesting…” your voice trailed off as you brought the box closer to investigate. With your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear, you lifted the box. 

“I’m serious, do not touch anything. You listenin’ to me?” You rolled your eyes at his voice. 

“I’m not touching anything, Dean. Cool it,” you mumbled as you examined the substance. Within a moment, your nose suddenly felt tingly and itchy. It started before you could stop it—sneeze. A cloud of the yellowish-green powder encircled your face and created a haze. Your eyes immediately felt watery. The phone fell from your ear as you hurried to place the box back down on the table and brushed your face with your hands. As you pulled your hands away, you saw dusty yellowish-green hues. You missed Dean calling your name through the phone, but he didn’t miss the words that fell from your lips in the background. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” You breathed as you plucked the phone from the hardwood floor and brought it back to your ear.

“What’s happening?” Dean’s voice was elevated and you heard the rev of the Impala’s engine in the background.

“Uh, Dean?” You watched the powder on the floor around you. “I accidentally touched it.”

“God dammit,” he groaned. “I’ll be right there.”

Dean had gotten to the witch’s house in minutes, which made you realize you probably should have waited for him and gone in together. But that didn’t matter anymore. You were waiting for symptoms to start–every little thing you felt made you wonder if it was caused by the mysterious substance. 

“Talk to me, Sammy,” Dean answered the phone roughly as he sped to get back to the motel. He said it was the safest place to be in case something happened. Sam was on his own hunt, about four hours away. “It’s like a yellow color,” he described, as Sam probably asked what it looked like. 

“Like pollen,” you murmured from the passenger seat. Suddenly, you felt warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was an odd feeling, almost like you had just consumed a warm cup of tea or hot soup. 

“Yeah, like pollen,” Dean repeated into the phone. The warmth wasn’t going away, it was only getting hotter. So hot, you felt the need to pull off your leather jacket even though the cool autumn air nipped at your skin. Dean did a double take from the road to you, and back again. “What are you doing?” He pulled the phone slightly away from his mouth. 

“I’m getting really hot, Dean,” you mumbled, worry crept through your words. You didn’t get worried often—or show it, at least—but these damn witches…all bets were off. 

“She says she’s getting hot,” Dean relayed over the phone before pulling it away and hitting the ‘Speaker’ button. 

“Uh, okay…so she sneezed into a box of pollen and now she feels hot?” Sam was typing as he spoke. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Dean confirmed as he turned into the parking lot of the motel. By now, your skin was on fire. The heat had spread from just the pit of your stomach to your chest, your arms, your face, and…other places you preferred not to mention. 

“I’m on fire,” you mumbled as tears stung your eyes. As soon as the car was in park, you had the front passenger door open and moved to be outside of the Impala. The cold air felt glorious on your skin, but the fear kept your feet moving. 

“She’s burning up, Sammy. You got anything? Anything at all?” The worry was present in Dean’s voice, as well, though you barely noticed over the waves of heat coursing through you. 

Once the two of you got into your shared motel room, you beelined for the bathroom. Your fingers wrapped around the edges of the porcelain sink and you closed your eyes. The coolness from the surface of the sink calmed your shakes, even if just for a moment. 

“A what pollen?” Dean asked into the phone, as if he couldn’t have heard Sam correctly. After a pause, he continued. “You gotta be kidding me.” He breathed, but didn’t hesitate to get his mind back in the game. “Okay, walk me through it.” 

Dean’s tone should have made you nervous, but all you could focus on was the way your heart nearly vibrated in your chest. There was a heat blazing so hot in your center, that you realized at that moment it had created a slickness in your underwear. Your nipples were so hard, they ached against the soft cotton fabric of your bra. 

You glanced up to look in the mirror for the first time. That’s when you noticed the heat had risen and created patches of redness up your chest and into your cheeks. Your breathing was labored, almost, and you realized it was as if you had just had…

“Okay, hear me out,” Dean grumbled as he tossed his cell phone onto his bed and ran his hand over his mouth as he tried to find the right words. “You’re not gonna like this…but it’s called sex pollen.” He cleared his voice before he said it. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Your chest rose and fell with each breath, you eyed him carefully but that made you feel even hotter. The warmth was overwhelming, so you fanned yourself with one of your hands. 

“I know, I know,” he held his hands up as if he were just the messenger. “It’s a spell. It makes you wanna get it on, Marvin Gaye style.” He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. You rolled your eyes and threw the hand towel at his face, missing slightly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” 

“Get it together,” you huffed. “So how do I break it?”

Dean gnawed at the inside of his lip, which was something you hadn’t seen him do before—or noticed, anyway. God, you couldn’t look away from his mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you thought you might crumble. Your fingers reached out quickly to grip the doorway of the bathroom. 

“From what Sam has read,” he paused as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “You gotta…do it.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Do it?” You repeated. “Can you be a grown-up for five seconds, please?” 

“Sex, darlin’,” he closed his eyes and said it hurriedly. “You gotta have sex.” 

All of the color drained from your face. Even though you knew that was what he meant, it was still a lot to take in (no pun intended). You closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to force your brain to work, but all of the blood seemed to be rerouted to other parts of your body. 

The feelings that ran over you made you realize you were feeling extreme sensations of being turned on. This went far above any other time you had felt this way—thinking about it almost made it worse. 

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. When you peeled back your eyelids, you were met with his green gaze. You had never seen his eyes so green before—and in the hue of the motel bedside lamps, you spotted speckles of gold and brown. You had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered over the word. “So what now? Just try to let it pass?”

Dean cleared his throat and broke away from your stare, his tongue darted out over his bottom lip again. God dammit, if he doesn’t put that tongue away… You tried not to squirm standing there in your jeans and a tank top. “Uh, actually, Sammy said if you don’t…take care of it,” he waved his hand in front of himself in a circular motion. “It uh, it can be fatal.” 

“I’m sorry, come again?” You blinked once, then twice. 

“Yeah, uh, you gotta take care of it,” he brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck again. You noticed the way his bicep flexed and tugged at the flannel that covered his arm. The heat in your parties made you think they may actually catch on fire. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you groaned and turned to move. The only thing that seemed to bring you any kind of relief was pacing. The friction your jeans caused between your legs was incredible. “What if…” you hesitated as you processed. “What if I try to ‘take care of it’ myself?” You used air quotes and looked back at him. 

He seemed to process for a second. “I mean, maybe? I don’t have any idea…” the tension in the room was so awkward. But the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to look at Dean and try to not jump his bones. 

“Okay, go to the bathroom…do not come out, you hear me?” You instructed firmly. Dean grabbed his phone and nodded. 

“I’ll text Sammy and see if he’s found anything else,” he mumbled and hurried to the bathroom before he closed the door. You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you saw him blush—and Dean Winchester never blushed. 

By the time you heard the door click closed, your fingers worked the button on your jeans. As soon as the clasp was freed, you shimmied them down your thighs and kicked them off to the side. You decided to leave your underwear and tank top on, fully aware of the man just on the other side of the bathroom door. 

As you dropped down on the bed and sat up against the headboard, your knees parted automatically. The heat that escaped between your legs was so intense that the cool air made you gasp. You closed your eyes as your hand snuck under the band of your black panties. The only thing you could see was Dean…his chiseled jaw, the way it tightened when he was mad, or frustrated or deep in thought; the rough stubble scattered across his lower face and chin; the way his eyes bore into you every time he looked your way. These weren’t new feelings, just feelings you had been able to avoid for so long. Now that the sex pollen had taken over, all bets were off. 

Your index finger circled your clit. You tried to be quiet, truly. This situation was awkward enough and you knew the doors in this motel were practically cardboard and didn’t contain the sound. But the moans still fell from your lips hastily. You couldn’t stop them once you started. You dipped your fingers down and couldn’t believe the wetness there; the feeling was overwhelming. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut once more, envisioning the god of a man on the other side of the door. And then it happened. “Ugh, Dean,” his name rolled off of your lips dripped in absolute bliss. 

“Uh, you okay in there, sweetheart?” Fuck. He had heard it. The blush rising even stronger in your cheeks literally burned your face. Tears you hadn’t realized had pooled in your eyes blurred your vision. 

“God dammit,” you groaned. No matter how hard you tried, you knew this wasn’t working. “I’m uh, I’m fine, Dean.” You hoped it would be enough to appease him. 

“Listen, uh, Sammy just wrote me back. He said it’s not gonna work…you, uh, taking care of it yourself,” he cleared his throat twice. Oh awesome, you thought to yourself. Both of the Winchesters know I’m trying to masturbate this spell away… You knew what that meant. Before your brain could process, you heard him again. “You decent? I’m comin’ in.” 

You practically squealed and clawed at the comforter to cover yourself. The door to the bathroom creaked open and Dean hesitantly peered around it. By the time he made it into the room, you were mostly covered but your right leg had slipped out under the comforter and Dean caught a glimpse of skin from your foot all the way up to where your underwear sat above your hip. 

Your eyes connected and you noticed his jaw tightened. But this time, it wasn’t because he was mad or frustrated…maybe in deep thought, but something felt different; something felt darker than that. 

“It’s not working,” you murmured, your chest still heaved with each heavy breath you took. Your fingers gripped the comforter so tightly at your chest, your knuckles were white. 

“I know, sweetheart,” his voice somehow sounded deeper than it had moments before. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, or maybe it was the sex pollen. But either way, it made your body tremble. 

You followed Dean’s gaze to your leg—he absolutely saw the tremble. 

“Listen, I don’t want to make this weird,” he rubbed a hand down his face again. The way his mouth dropped open made the heat rise even more. “But you can’t fix this by yourself.” You knew he was hesitating; hesitating to take it further. You wondered if it was because he didn’t want it, maybe he didn’t want you. 

“Help me fix this,” the tears blurred at your eyes again. “Dean, I’m begging you. Everything is on fire. My body literally feels like I’m going to combust.” You hated that your voice cracked, but you were truly starting to freak out. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t wanna do…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean nervously chuckled as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t want you to do something just because you have to…” his voice trailed off as his eyes studied you. Realization set in that Dean wasn’t able to hide his attraction or interest in that moment. His jeans had tightened quite a bit in his groin, revealing a bulge that made you practically pant.

“I need you, Dean. But I also want you,” you practically drooled at this point. “I want you so, so bad.”

Dean’s hands moved to unbutton the buttons to his flannel quickly—you scrambled out from underneath the comforter to where he stood at the end of the bed on your knees to help him with the rest. You gave up after the second button and pulled the two sides harshly apart, sending buttons flying to bounce onto the multicolored carpet below. 

“Christ,” he breathed as he moved to undo the metal button on his jeans. Instantly, his hands cupped your cheeks. He paused for only a moment. After one more look into your eyes to make sure this was okay, you met in the middle as your lips crashed against one another. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” the words rolled off of your lips like it was nothing—but it was so much more than nothing. It was something you hadn’t meant to say, but the sex pollen haze made your filter dissipate. Your lips pulled apart with a pop and your eyes found his. 

“God, me too,” he almost growled as he toppled you back onto the bed once more. Dean was on top of you, your legs parted automatically. He held himself up with one arm and kissed you in a way you had never been kissed before. 

“Dean, I need you to touch me. Please,” the need in your voice was mixed with begging at this point. “Everything is on fire.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” his words drawled together, intoxicated with lust. The hand that wasn’t supporting his body weight trailed down your side. He pulled back and sat on his knees, pulling you with him so you were sitting up. His fingers grasped the hem of your tank top and pulled it up and over your head in one swift motion. He reached behind you and masterfully unclasped your black bra. As soon as it fell away, the cool air from the room bit at your already hardened nipples, causing you to hiss out loud. 

Just as quickly as he pulled you up, he pushed you gently back to the bed on your back as he settled between your legs once more. 

“You’re so god damn beautiful,” he murmured as his lips connected with your neck. He planted hasty wet kisses from just below your ear lobe, down your collarbone to the top of your breasts. 

“Dean,” your hips writhed against him. You needed more. 

“I know, baby,” he breathed as his hand finally began to trace down your side, his fingertips left goosebumps on their way until they reached your hip bone. He pulled the material of your underwear until they slid off of your hips. He pulled until they were down near your feet where you could kick them off. 

His fingertips trailed to your center and circled your clit just as you had done moments before. His index finger slipped easily inside of you before he decided to add his middle finger to the mix. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, your head tilted backward so your neck was exposed. Dean took the opportunity happily, his lips sucked and kissed every inch of skin there as he pumped his fingers into you. “Dean, please.” You were doing a lot of begging, but you literally couldn’t help it. You felt like you would implode if he didn’t take you right then and there. 

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he murmured against the flesh of your neck.

“I don’t really have time for patience,” you groaned. Dean pulled back for a moment, almost as if he had forgotten this was initiated from the sex pollen to begin with. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed your naked body, his jaw tightened. He quickly pulled off his flannel, within seconds his fingers pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. Next up was his jeans, and then his boxers. 

Your body squirmed at the sight–he was stunning. Your eyes trailed down his biceps to his forearms–down his chest, to the delicious V and then…

Your breath got caught in the back of your throat, but before you could gasp for air, his lips were back on you again and you felt his hardness against your thigh. “I don’t have a condom…” he grumbled as his head dropped into the crook of your neck.

“Birth control, Dean,” you mumbled against his hair. His lips found yours again, moving against them as if his life depended on it–and, well, yours sort of did. He pulled back for a moment and found your eyes, as if he was asking if you were sure about this. You knew there was no going back at this point, so you raised your head to capture his lips in yours again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth gently, which elicited a moan from him.

And then in a second, you felt him enter you. It could have been the sex pollen, but you didn’t think so. The feeling was the most incredible sensation you had ever felt. The way your body fit against his was something you could have never imagined—even in the nights you had drifted off to sleep thinking about what this might feel like. 

He moved slowly at first; too slowly to appease the effects of the damn sex pollen. Your hips rose to meet his and you wrapped your legs around his waist, linking your feet behind him at your ankles. He obliged, and angled his body in a way that you could feel absolutely every inch of him inside of you. 

“God damn, you feel so good,” he groaned as he pressed his forehead to yours. You had never felt so close to someone in your entire life, and you prayed it wasn’t just another symptom of the pollen. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” you moaned as he reached down with the arm that wasn’t supporting his weight and pulled your leg behind your knee so it rested in the crook of his elbow. “Jesus, Dean.” You bit down on your lower lip so hard you thought you tasted blood for a second. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered in that moment. 

He rocked against you so hard, the headboard bounced off of the thin wall of the motel room—the picture that hung above you rattled. Nothing mattered. 

Dean brought his lips hastily to your ear and kissed just below it before he whispered, “I want you to touch yourself, sweetheart. Let yourself go.” You shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your earlobe and the words he whispered huskily. You could hardly take it. 

Your release had already started to build—which wasn’t too surprising, considering how turned on you were to begin with. You snaked your fingers down between your bodies, the feeling of his pelvis crashing against yours sent another wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

You began to circle your clit with your fingertip as he secured your leg in the crook of his arm, his bicep flexed tightly. The sensation was overwhelming and you found yourself practically babbling moans and words strung together. “Fuck, Dean. Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” that elicited another chuckle from his lips but didn’t disrupt his movements as he plummeted into you. It felt like he was breaking through your cervix at this point. 

“Let yourself go,” he could feel your muscles beginning to twitch around him. His words tossed you over the edge. “Take what you need, sweetheart.” 

That was it. You felt like your release was practically boiling as it shook you to your core. You saw flashes of color, and your ears were ringing. Dean moved through it for you as you rode the wave. You vaguely heard yourself yell out his name as everything crashed around you. 

“You okay? You want me to stop?” He almost winced as his hips urged him to move but he wanted to respect the fact that the spell you were under had most likely dissipated now. 

“Don’t stop,” you hurriedly told him as you rocked your hips against him once more. “Your turn.” You leaned up to connect your lips to a sweet spot on his neck, your tongue ran over his stubble and nipped gently which elicited a groan from the back of his throat. 

“God damn,” he growled as his pace quickened again. Your muscles still twitched from your orgasm, you thought it might roll into a second wave—which would have been a first for you. 

After a few more thrusts from Dean, he practically collapsed on your chest. Your fingertips found his back, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You dug your nails gently as you drew small smoothing circles upon his skin. After a moment, he rolled so he was on his back just beside you. 

“That was magical,” your words practically slurred together as the room was filled with heavy breathing from both you and Dean—your chests rose and fell with each breath. 

Dean’s eyes were sealed shut, but you saw the grin that pulled at his lips and he chuckled. 

“You sure that’s not the sex pollen talkin’?” He drawled, his words etched together as well—a combination of exhaustion and post-sex effects. 

You gently bit at your bottom lip and glanced at him from your side of the bed. His eyes were still shut lazily, a slick layer of sweat glistened in the dim light of the motel. Maybe it was still sex pollen remnants, maybe not—but something gave you a sense of courage you had never had before. You leaned over his body and inched towards his face. “Guess we’ll just have to let round two decide…”

His eyes shot open but his grin stretched wider so you could see his bright white smile. His gaze trailed from your eyes to your lips. Just before he leaned up to press his lips to yours, he said, “Guess we will, won’t we?” 

And for the first time in your entire life—you were thankful for witches.

---------

A/N: Eek! I always get nervous posting ~smut~, but here we are! I love hearing what you think, so please don't be afraid to comment! Even if it's something I could work on for next time. Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @lyarr24 @roseblue373 @nelachu2423 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197

[pagannatural]

1.16 Shadow

-This is going to be long-winded

-Sam snaps at Dean for talking about a woman rather than focusing on him the case. Like REALLY snaps.

-he gives Dean attitude again for flirting at the bar and looks hurt and tired

-Sam sees Meg and thinks That’s suspicious maybe this is a lead. Dean sees Sam talking to Meg and thinks Oh god oh no oh fuck shit shit he’s leaving me fuck it’s me or her oh jesus god no

-Sam is very focused on Meg during their initial conversation because she’s a lead. Dean misreads the fuck out of this and stares between them uneasily, clearing his throat, until Meg says Sam told her about him.

He’s psyched to hear this. He’s so happy Sam talked about him. Sam, however, is nervous about getting caught emotionally cheating on Dean by talking to Meg about their relationship issues when they were fighting.

-Dean starts in the second they leave the bar with “who the hell was she” which is exactly what a cheated-on wife would say. Dean is mad that Sam talked shit about him to someone else but mostly he’s scared that there’s “truth to what she was saying” and asks “am I keeping you against your will?” They’re both so desperate to be chosen by each other.

Sam reacts with genuine indignation and says “no, of course not.” He asks Dean to listen to what he’s saying and Dean finally does.

-Then of course Dean makes a series of dirty jokes about Sam being interested in her, at one point glancing openly at Sam’s dick which

like, I-

???

He pushes his jokes farther than he needs to because this thing with Meg really got to him. It’s different this episode than his usual teasing because there’s anger behind it. He’s fixating on Sam’s sex life and making himself a part of it as much as possible. If Dean is in Sam’s head about it it’s like he’s part of it too. There’s also an element of passive aggression, like Hey if I’m keeping you and you want to be with her go right ahead.

-This is his face at the end of their phone call later, when Sam says “bite me” and Dean says “No, bite her” which is all kinds of psychosexual and jealous and Sam hangs up on him.

He is not having a fun lighthearted time. He’s trying to act flippant about Meg but Sam really hurt his feelings.

-He shoots Sam this jealous look while teasing him yet again in a way neither of them enjoys

Dean you are the bad girl. You’re the sharpshooting fuck-the-police real-tough-cookie-with-the-whiskey-breath killer-and-a-thriller bad bitch in his life.

-They have their most intense fight yet this episode because Sam tells Dean that when this is over he will go back to school.

-For context, this conversation comes right after Dean tries to call John and gets his voicemail yet again. It comes a few episodes after Sam told John that Dean was dying, also over voicemail, and he never called. Sam still needs to rebel against their dad, and Dean is proposing that they all three work together. Sam is in this when it’s just him and Dean but he’s been working hard to keep some distance from Dean so that he can leave when they’ve finished their mission.

Sam really can’t join Dean and John without smothering the side of himself that needs to belong and be respected. And he and Dean can’t really belong to each other with their dad around. The three of them hunting together doesn’t work and Sam knows that. Part of that is because Dean always follows John’s orders. And maybe part of that is Sam’s too-strong feelings for Dean.

-Sam says “there’s gotta be something you want for yourself” and Dean says “I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over.”

Just to rephrase this exchange is

Sam: what do you want for your life

Dean: I want you to stay

and they look like they’re in another rom com

Dean asks him why he thinks he wanted Sam with him in the first place. Sam doesn’t understand. He really thinks Dean just wanted his help to complete the mission of finding John and killing the demon.

Dean says yeah, “But it’s more than that, man.” And Sam looks at him sooo intensely. It seems like Dean is going to confess, and I wonder what Sam thought in this moment. The inclusion of John makes it seem less like they’re desperately in love, and is often the only thing making it seem like anything other than desperate yearning for each other.

Dean says he wants the three of them to be a family again. Sam says “We are a family, I’d do anything for you.” Dean reacts with this miserable look of hope only when Sam says “I’d do anything for you.” Anything?

“but things will never be the way they were before.” Sam says “when this is all over you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.”

This is Dean’s worst fear, and for the rest of the season at least he is operating on the belief that Sam wants to leave him.

-Sam saves himself, Dean, and John from the shadow demons. Dean and John help each other out of the building with Sam trailing close behind them. This is probably what Sam has felt like his whole life- like he’s trying to catch up to Dean and John, who are ahead of him, helping each other, and just out of reach.

Sam tells John “I’ve got to be a part of this fight,” begging not be left behind yet again.

-It’s revealed in this episode that Dean cares about his family, and especially Sam, more than he cares about anything else, and that Sam didn’t know that. This is the first time Dean’s actually said it. It changes things for Sam because he starts to see Dean more clearly. He’s still clinging for dear life to the possibility of going back to college. Even though he never really fit in and he needs Dean like water.

-Dean doesn’t get any resolution here, and he won’t for a while.

[bcacstuff]

Ok so my take is it's some kind of meeting, interview, getting to know you, whatever you wanna call it. His body language is screaming I'm here I'm listening like he does in interviews, the focused look down, his phone on the table suggests not a date at all he usually has it in his jeans pocket, she has a laptop or something in front of her which idk any date that brings that. This could've been right at the start, no drinks on the table. Still acquainting with each other.

She's not dressed as a young girl in LA on a first or second date, their legs are also not touching as another blogger is trying to suggest, he's actually clearly keeping his away from hers by crossing his legs, and just because that trash site posted she's identified but not public person means nothing. They clearly state they don't post all actual facts. It's whatever people send them. Could be someone said it to stir up more discussion. Honestly everything lately from him has felt like a scream for attention. For a bit of discussion about him. To make him seem a little more important than he is. Even the cinema post. Who on earth would randomly spot him if not organised by publicity??? This entire LA trip has felt like all PR. And maybe she's an interviewer who doesn't want to be put out there maybe they aren't gonna throw her under the bus but want people talking (when I say they I mean Sam's PR people)

You know Anon, I just sit here and most of the time shake my head over all the Anons in my inbox as well as all the 'suggestions' and 'maybes' in the comments.

People jumping to conclusions, people saying things they read somewhere else and make it sound like it is already a fact...

Seriously, where one sees he's smiling and having a good time with 'his date' the next one is claiming their legs are close together and people that do business or have an interview don't sit that close together... the other side sees nothing romantic and it must be business or an interview. And people get all worked up...

I just had my laughs last night, when the pic was posted by DM. Firstly because obviously no flight to catch after his TCA appearance as some blogger claimed she knew from her 'sources'... and I don't see that blogger addressing that in her next posts!

Secondly, all the ones claiming he was sitting behind Ashley in Washington at the rugby game. Do people fail to see how that SS cap was clearly photoshopped on the woman's head? 🤦‍♀️

And when I post he's still in LA, I get a shitload of Anons saying how would I know, well... because I use logic. Plain and simply logic. If I post things, I checked things, otherwise I wouldn't post it. But it seems some people are so terribly suspicious that they need evidence and proof for all, yet at the same time they seem to believe everything posted elsewhere without any shred of evidence.... even the weirdest narrative is taken for granted, rather than wait and see if there wil be more info, and if not so what, do we always need some explanation for everything? Or can we live with, we don't need to know every bloody detail? Oh and btw. he's still in LA today, so the ones claiming he's back in Glasgow... without any evidence and logic, sorry.... stop throwing things out there you would like to see, just see what really happens. You just get embarrassed all the time that when more details and facts surface.

Anyway, back to your summary of events. I agree, it looks like they just arrived, given there are no drinks on the table, just the 'fancy chips' they serve at that Beach restaurant at Shutters on the Beach.

No drinks (yet) on the table, or anything else for that matter, just his sunnies, his phone in front of him and in front of her something that looks like a tablet or laptop

So yes, I agree, if that is a laptop or tablet, that's not what you would bring a date. It gives me a bit the idea of the pics in NYC with the journo of Departures.

But then again, we do not know who the woman is. And there is no easy way to find out, as to me, she looks like millions of other blonde women. That said, the names now thrown out thus far, I don't think any of them match. And to the Anon thinking Ava as she was at the screening of Cinespia as well, please, the woman has tattoos all over her arms...

The pics are quite clear though, so it suggests someone close by took them, not even grainy or vague. Would they not have seen that a pic was taken? 🤷‍♀️

And as long as there are no other details known, I just keep all options open. I can lean more to one or another option, but I rather wait and see if there will be more known in the future. (just see how we found out about Lauren in NYC a year later!)

So that's what I do right now. If you want to do else, have a firm opinion about something, that's totally on you. What I do care for is that you don't come to me later on claiming I said this or that, or another blogger said this or that. I wont entertain that.

PS. I don't like to post the same things over and over again, when there is nothing new or more info about it. So don't expect countless posts about the woman, about who he was with at the screening on Saturday. If I find anything more, you always know I post it with the proof.

[itskattkm]

New York New Rules Pt. 3

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a long story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

My body began to vibrate, or rather my head when I leaned it against the window of the taxi. So let's start reflecting on the day as it went so far.

Missed therapy hour because my therapist was brutally murdered. Check.

Shit... it would take me months until I find a new one.

What happened next? I closed my eyes and played the pictures in my head through like a movie.

Been accused for murder? Check.

Have been exposed and embarrassed In front of your girl crush and her sister? Check.

Surprising meeting with Kirby? Check.

Pursued by paparazzis and "interviewed" by Gale weathers? Check.

Witness to Tara punching Gale Weathers? Check.

Was I slightly turned on by it? Double Check.

"Y/N you're good?" A soft voice brought me back. I opened my eyes and had to blink slightly because of the unexpected brightness around me. I nodded silently and looked for the eyes of the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. I put my hand on the passenger seat and pulled slightly forward, which is why Tara who sat between me and Sam pushed herself closer to Sam to give me the place I needed. "Hey you can let me out at Pompeii Pizza" he nodded to me but now Sam bent down in front "Y/N you can't go now you have to come with us" there was that shy me I knew so good. I probably would have done anything she said, but right now? Now I felt numb. Not present. And I didn't care.

No matter what happened yesterday. No matter what happened today. I just had to go home and hide in my room. It was one thing to become suspicious for several murders but to be exposed in front of almost complete strangers and to be claimed as a crazy woman with mental problems? And on top of that in front of your crush. That was too much for me.

Although Detective Bailey had exposed me to the two and they knew now more about me than I would have liked to let them know, I asked myself the question

Why do you want me to come with you?

"Why?" I asked confused

"Apart from the fact that you are a suspect, we have to talk to the others about it. Mindy wants us all to meet at the Blackmoore," she said and her eyes darkened. Although they didn't seem particularly inviting at the moment, I recognized something soothing in them.

"So you believe what Bailey said?" I asked and did not seem as strong as I had hoped. My voice was getting quieter and quieter. Maybe we didn't know each other so well, and I was just a friend of Mindy but did they really believe that I was behind it?

"Where were you during the bodega attack?" Said Tara cautions.

Confused, my gaze met hers. No, I wasn't confused. I was hurt. Her look was cold. Anger could be seen in her dark eyes, but the way she pulled her eyebrows together told me that there was something else, but what?

"Pompeii Pizza" said the driver and stopped.

Exhausted, I took a look and sighed. I shook my head when I opened the door of the taxi and got out.

"Y/N!"

I ignored it. Did Tara really think I was behind it? I didn't like the way she looked at me. As if I were a monster... the cars on the street were getting louder and louder for me. The measurements of people who were on the streets. Confused, I looked at the floor as I slowly went to the pizzeria.

And there they were at once. A few minutes before, I felt numb and now. Now there were too many feelings. I tried to arrange it in my head like a riddle. But I couldn't see anything. Too many letters. No words. I clenched my hands into fists to feel something I could describe. Then there was this sting. A continuous stitch. I had pressed my nails firmly into my palms so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Now I asked myself. What does that feel like?

After resensood.

Pressure a pressure that did not want to disappear.

And then the letters in my head came together and the word pain appeared before my eyes.

"Y/N wait!" I was grabbed by my shoulder and expected to be abruptly turned over. However, I was surprised and that of Sam. She sighed and slowly stood in front of me, so that I was forced to look at her. I was forced not to go any further.

"I was also a patient at Dr. Stone"

With widened eyes, I looked at her and a short smile escaped her lips when she agreed to my expression with a nodding head. "Believe me when I tell you that I can imagine how you feel. But you also have to understand-"

She looked over my shoulder to see Tara. However, I did not follow her gaze. As Tara had looked at me earlier... I never wanted to see these eyes again. That look in them. It made me feel so vulnerable and anxious. I already had it so hard to keep in touch with the people around me, but I tried to stand by. And with Tara, well it won't be difficult for me to ignore her in the near future.

At least that's what I thought

"After what we've been through, it's difficult for us with new people... and how fucked that sounds, but that's what Bailey said are very violent coincidences Y/N and if we should trust you... then you have to prove it to us"

Now I felt a different feeling.

Incomprehension

"Why should I do that?"

Surprised, Sam looked at me and straightened up. She probably didn't expect this answer.

"Sam, I am not part of your group. I'm just a friend of Mindy's"

I looked at the pizzeria and looked into the eyes of my own reflection Why do I looked so sad?

"As much as I wish it would be different, but even for Mindy I am just an acquaintance from the courses we have in common. And we both know Mindy, she is also very careful when it comes to new people. After she told me about Ghostface because it was a short topic in our course and not because she told me as a friend, I knew, okay. This friendship is nothing more than an an acquaintance, so why should I care Sam?" My legs were moving. I lightly bumped Sam on her shoulder to go past her but she grabbed me tightly by my arm and moved us so that I had to meet her eyes and my back faced the pizzeria.

"Because you care," she said bright. Confused, I looked at her. Her look was gentler than before and there was this glow.

"You may feel alone. And maybe you are... but you care. No matter how bad you are feeling. How the people around you are doing... you are someone who can feel how others are doing. And as much as you sometimes have to struggle with the darkness... you still care. Even if it hurts"

Why did it feel like a description of herself?

Were we both more similar than knew? I mean, we both went to the same therapist, maybe there was something to it. But what was Sam's problem? Also aggression? Mindy had never told me in detail what happened to all of them back then. She just said that the stab movies are based on true events and the murders of last year? Well she and her friends were involved.

Of course, I had watched all the stab films afterwards, but I couldn't imagine what must have happened to them.

"Go home. Take your time. But I hope that you come to the Blackmoore and try to find an answer for all this, together with us. You don't want to be a suspect, do you? So why not find out who is really behind it?"

She gave me a slight smile and left. Even after the taxi drove away, I was still starring on the same spot. Where did I get in there?

Damn Samantha Carpenter...

These feelings which you and your sister leave me behind are too much for me.

[radiofreeilium]

Hm ok real speculation time, I know i said before that Sam's gonna die in the finale, and the ep didn't look good for him, but i think with the sheer amount of emphasis placed on alchemy and transmutation, he can't be simply dead. Now, that's not to say I think he'll be coming back in a major way - i personally do not think Sam is, or ever has been, the main character of tmagp. After all, that's the core of his entire character. Never the special one, never the one picked, never 'magnus material'. Besides, it's always been the rest of the cast that has had the knowledge and drive to actually do anything in the story - Sam has always been one (or twenty) steps behind everyone else. I think the most likely option is he will appear in a sort of micheal-esque way, as a truly warped archivist mix. I think we'll get to see a proper monster as a main character, rather than Jon's weak basically tame vampire monstrousness. Meanwhile, i expect season 2 to either focus on Alice, or Celia as a mainish character. A lot of other's seem to think alice is next up in line, which i mostly agree with, but also... doesn't it feel just a little too similar to tma? I'm not sure i'd love season 2 tmagp to just be a repeat of season 3 tma - a main character being suspicious of all their friends and steadily letting them down because of paranoia and grief. Regardless of the similarities, i do think i'd enjoy seeing Alice figure stuff out and go looking for Sam, but i think i'd enjoy getting to see Celia's side of things way more. Sure, her whole deal *could* be the end all be all big mystery of the story, but let's be real, we basically know here whole deal right now. There's some tidbits that are intriguing - when did she cross over from tma; where the fuck did jack come from and what's his deal - but in the grand scheme of things, here goals seem too short sighted to have here be like, the Elias of tmagp. So what i'd love to see is a pov more from Celia's angle where we can watch Alice's deteriorate and suspicion play out from the opposite side, and see how Celia copes with the things she's willing to do to save herself. Also of course i cannot wait to see Gwen girlbossing her way into absolute chaos. But also i do think that'll be fairly background like it was this season, i think season 3 will be the big Gwen season.

[minimarvelh]

It was Friday, so that meant only one thing: movie night!

They set up on the Avengers floor, Nat brought everyone popcorn while Clint and Sam fought for a spot in the middle. (like always)

Peter didn't care about the spot , he was going to lie down where Tony sat with his head on his lap as the man will gently stroke his hair. It was their routine and he fucking LOVE it.

Tony always chose a place in the corner - he didn't care if someone was looking at them, but he wanted some privacy, cherishing their moments of affection and didn't have desire to share them, especially not in front of everyone in the room. Was he jealous? He didn’t know but hey, everyone is a bit jealous and has attachment issues, right?

After a few minutes, they finally settled down and their show choice was unsurprisingly Doctor Who.(thanks to Gen Z teen Peter Parker, who is always looking edits on TikTok and sending them to Tony, who is considering his preferences)

While Clint and Nat were discussing something about the movie's collusions, Bruce and Tony were cogently discussing the reality of magical things in the show.

Peter really fought for his life and tried not to fall asleep, feeling that it was quite a strenuous task for his body. He was really tired after his last patrol(three robberies in row I’m sorry???), and besides, it was a Friday night. He really relish this night with the Avengers, but the school managed to get on his nerves in the last 5 days. And Tony's methodical, quiet voice lulled him, forcing to close his eyes.

Peter sighed heavily fighting the sleep Cupid when he felt the ringing vibration of his phone in his left pants pocket. Today, Ned has a family evening, vague remembered Peter, and he wholeheartedly promised his friend to be his life support and be online in case of some emergency. Unfortunately, Ned's parents divorced and the boy was naturally very anxious, so it was very hard for Ned to process all of that. Especially when his parents were fighting, which happened quite very often, especially when they were in the same room. Peter had seen it before and didn't want to see it again, sympathizing with a friend who goes through it more often than he should.

Peter very reluctantly took out his phone, squinting at the harsh light of the screen. On the screen of their chat with Ned, a bright link to the browser was highlighted. He cocked an eyebrow skeptically, for some unknown reason tapping on a link that should never have opened in his browser because it looked too suspicious and maybe it has viruses. But remembering that Ned was a fucking computer genius and wouldn't give his phone viruses…hopefully, maybe thing that Peter did or rather didn’t do, to speak exactly 3 days ago forgotting about their lego evening, was not left behind for Ned and he decided to take revenge with viruses)

"What are your chances of being Tony Stark's son?"

He snorted, immediately covering his mouth, from such a stupidly worded question. Like, the chance of anyone becoming Tony Stark's son is about 0.00001%. Genius loves and protects his personal space too much and even if we assume that one day he will have a kid (because in Peter's not modest opinion, Tony would be a great father), it will be his biological child, not an adopted one. That is, everyone's chances are approximately one to infinity. (although Peter always knew physics poorly and was more into chemistry, so an error in calculations is possible)

It was just an online fan quiz for probably those other geeks and fan nerds who were willing to kiss the ground Tony Stark walks on. (aka Peter)

But the site surprisingly showed interesting statistics with an insane number of views and if they were not just bots, it was really impressive. 101,678 people passed the quiz. Peter was ready to whistle if he was not afraid to get the unnecessary at this situation attention from the Avengers. He weighed all his options, cautiously peeking out from under the phone to see if any of the Avengers were paying attention to him. The observations were comforting: everyone was staring at the screen of TV with strong interest.

Peter just became curious: how well he really fits the role of Tony Stark's son, according to the creators of the test.

In fact, to be really honest, this question had a really long time make Peter worried: from the very moment he began to notice that his relationship with Tony was growing from blind adoration of an idol to adoration of him as a person, as his mentor, as one of the closest people in his life.

Ned knew this, saw Peter's distress and tried to reassure his friend, promising and even swearing to him with all his Lego sets that Tony also saw Peter as his son.

"Lol, he works with you until night doing stupid projects for our school, goes to parent-teacher conferences and builds Legos on the weekends, do you really think he treats every intern or avenger like that?"

"Maybe he just likes building Lego sets" Peter asks uncertainly, wringing his hands in alarmingly energetic way.

"Okay You didn’t give me another choice…I'll have to hack F.R.I.D.A.Y to find footage of Tony building Legos with Steve or Wanda.But I can tell you even without hacking: there won't be any. And I wonder why…"

Thinking about his actions for another second, Peter presses "start".

1. Imagine that you had the opportunity to choose your evening activity (who formulates the question like that?) What would you do with Tony Stark?

Peter noticed how Tony tightened his grip on his hair as if trying to pull him as close to him as possible. Probably something disturbing happened in the series, but he had a more serious question to think about.

Surprising himself, he took this question very earnest, mentally asking himself: "What could we do in the evening with Mr. Stark". There are a lot of answers: from a marathon of Scooby-Do to a hide and seek with dum-e.(don’t judge them, dum-e really deserves to play games too)

Therefore, Peter decided to focus on the answer options presented in the quiz itself.(very awful decision, really)

a) jointly come up with innovations for Stark Industries

b) talk about science

c) order dinner from a restaurant and eat

d) cook dinner yourself and watch the series together

Of all this, Peter was leaned more on the answers b c and d, which they usually combined. Coming up with innovations for Stark Industries was usually done between other engineers and Stark, who then shared ideas with Peter. Because Peter was more into chemistry and biology than physics, he sometimes didn't understand the innermost technologies and found it difficult to develop something genius between patrols and school. That's why Stark usually just brainstormed with Peter.

There was not one perfect answer, but remembering that in fact they always order food from restaurants... After thinking a little more, Peter tapped on this answer, feeling excitement mixed with anxiety.

And what if he does not fit the role of his son?

2. What present would you give Tony for his birthday?

• Phone • Suit • something for the house •

None of this was suitable answer at all: the only thing that came close was something for the house: the old man's penthouse used to be too dark, but now with the help of him and Pepper and the "something for the house" it was much more cozy, 10 blankets and 23 stuffed toys form Star Wars along with 13 vanilla candles obviously did the good job.

Phone..who came up with this test? Giving a phone to the number 1 phone manufacturer in the world?!? Tony has a billion suits. Peter personally preferred when Tony walked in his home clothes (he even a little bit hated suit- it was not the same hugs as in the hoodies - why can't we all go to the meetings or school in pajamas??)

Peter, remembering how Tony promised to buy him a Guinea pig for 4 months anniversary "returning in time after patrol" and wanted to choose some answer like pets but there was any so he stopped at "something for the house" because the question was “for Tony”.

3. "Would you try to pass this test if Tony were not a playboy genius but just an ordinary person?" Yes No

Peter honestly doesn't know…Of course Peter doesn't love Tony for his money, not at all…he loves him for the sense of safeness he constantly feels around him, for the hugs and long deep conversations, for the time they spend together and the warmth that Stark radiates.

He pressed "yes" without the slightest conscience.

The next 10 minutes were spent in serious concentration, pondering over the questions of this stupid test, which for some reason he took too important.

Confidently clicking "yes" on the last, 25th question, the screen crackled and gave him the answer.

"Thank you for passing our quiz, but unfortunately you would not be able to become Tony Stark’s son", Peter accidentally said this out loud in a very tragic voice without noticing it.

“You know you don't have to pass tests to be my son", the man’s serious voice made Peter almost shudder. God, did he really say that out loud? Please bury him somewhere for the rest of his life , he is not ready to face Nat, Cling, Steve and obviously Tony after a moment of shame.

A snoring was heard from the other end of the sofa, and turning his eyes to the direction of the snoring, Peter saw the sleeping Sam, Nat, Steve and…well, everyone. He couldn't even tell who snorted, they were cuddling in such tightness (but he'd bet on Clint) . Turning his eyes above, Tony looked at him warmly and at the same time seriously, wanting this kid to understand it.

"You know this kiddo? " Peter smiled happily, blushing a little.

"Yes, dad ."

[utilitycaster]

Sort of related to the post about people coming in for shipping but something that’s struck me, as actual play fandom has spread, is that there is a certain lack of genre awareness currently - not just surrounding Critical Role, to be honest; it’s a frustration for me for the conversation surrounding Dimension 20 and Worlds Beyond Number for a while as well.

Take fate, for example. The idea of fate, whether it’s as specific as an ancient prophecy, or as broad as the general concept of destiny, is absolutely at the core of so many classic fantasy series that to be vehemently opposed to it within Critical Role is to display profound ignorance of the genre of fantasy. It’s akin to showing up to a sporting event and getting mad that people are running around in athletic gear; it’s like going to an Italian restaurant in the US and screaming in the face of the waiter when they give you bread and olive oil. There is not, per se, a required reading list. You do not need to read nor watch all of Lord of the Rings let alone consider it a formative work; Sam Riegel and Aabria Iyengar sure haven’t. But if you are not familiar with the genre at all, at the very least you do need to come with a certain awareness that you are not familiar with the genre and be open to its conventions. And to be clear: it’s valid to hate the theme of things being fated. But again, that’s like hating they serve bread and olive oil at the Italian restaurant; you should probably simply not go to Italian restaurants.

Another example that is my personal source of irritation is the obsession with radiation as a factor in Burrow’s End. Setting aside my original irritation at just good old-fashioned lack of reading comprehension with the conflation of the poison and the Blue/the Light, the idea that the intelligence was induced by radiation is really…not genre aware. Like, I recognize I’m coming at this with rather more knowledge than average (from a scientific rather than genre-aware perspective no less) but to get back to genre, I take no issue with, say, radiation in comic books. I know the premise of Spider-Man or of Doctor Manhattan’s origins is absolutely ridiculous; but that’s the genre. Radiation in comic books exists to be an easy origin story so we can get to the point of “here’s a guy with powers”. However, in a show that derives its narrative language from Watership Down and Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh, the idea that the magic and the lightning and the source of intelligence are radiation makes little sense. Another example is the weird response to Skip in Starstruck; the idea of an alien brain parasite like that is so genre-typical to space opera it feels like, again, someone going to an Italian restaurant, pointing at the bread, and saying “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? HOW DARE YOU!”

I think my particular frustration with both of the above (and when I talk about Worlds Beyond Number) is that those people ignorant of genre and not letting it wash over them a la Sam will often fall back to the real world (although, unfortunately, not when it comes to radiation) when trying to make sense of the narrative without the signposts, language, and tropes of the genres to which they belong. To understand the subversions or deconstructions that are likely to occur in, for example, the upcoming exploration of the Citadel in Worlds Beyond Number, you need to be open to the idea that it is a complicated place and not simply The Evil Empire That Suvi Will Definitely Leave; if you’re utterly suspicious of everyone and refuse to try to understand why this is a place people enjoy let alone will die for, you can’t actually experience the story. We are going into the Citadel arc; these wizards will be humanized, and if you have closed off your mind to them already you have set yourself up to be miserable. I do think it’s great that actual play has found an increasingly large audience, but the medium of actual play also carries a certain lexicon and ignorance of it will skew one’s interpretations. My personal bugbear here is of course interpreting bog-standard tanking strategies as either romantic or self-sacrificial in intent, but in general, any resistance to the mere concept of gaining power, the existence of concrete deities, combat, and the placement of plot above romance in D&D are all signs of this ignorance. And again: ignorance is fine! But with all of the above there also often comes this entitlement to a story that is familiar, in blatant disregard for those parameters of genre and medium, and I have to wonder, again, why people mad that a fantasy story is leaning heavily on fantasy story norms, or why D&D has combat, are still showing up to the fantasy D&D story. To return to the Italian restaurant, which is getting a lot of terrible patrons in this metaphor, it feels like a lot of people are showing up to this restaurant because they heard it was good, but then becoming furious it won’t serve them peanut butter and jelly. People who are not familiar should still be welcome, but that lack of familiarity needs to be accompanied by an openness and desire to learn, rather than the entitlement that is so often present.

[samlacy]

Let me go, I’m starving

my first SPN as well as Ship fanfiction on here

I hope you like it :)) And Im sorry for the long ass hiatus…

Happy new years??

PLUS check out my ao3 Samlacy, I post on there!!

Summary:

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Sam gathers his words,

“Cas, please, just this once.”

————

The book slammed down on the floor by a strong force, hitting the wood, hard enough to make a noise that notified the whole apartment (if there was anyone), Sam was seriously pissed off.

Cas looked up from his palms to Sam sitting on the hotel chair, his laptop on the desk and some book on the floor.

His hands were gripping his hair, giving the impression he could pull out his long hair-strands right out of his head.

Which was not a pleasure to Cas, since he loved Sam’s silky, straight and long for a man hair.

Cas hopped off the Hotel bed and walked up to the book on the floor. He picks it up and puts it, gently, back on the desk, still keeping his hand on it while his eyes focused on the stressed individual.

Sam noticed the book with the hand on it and looked up to, expectedly, see Castiel.

Not that it was a bad thing that he was here the whole time he was tearing himself up about this case, but the fact that he had such a harsh expression on his face that it didn’t quite fit in either the angry or disappointed category.

“I’m sorry”, slipped out of Sam’s mouth, with no control. Why was he sorry? He didn’t hurt the Angel in any kind of way, did he?

“You’re good”, Castiel whisper-says as he took the hand off the book and instead pulled the other chair back to sit right across Sam.

The silence filled and Sam decided to just keep working and try to find at least something, anything on the Web. Although

Cas eyes were piercing through his head and he felt it.

The angel once again had a worry or suspicion on Sam, and he was oh-so-curious to know what it is now.

Its almost like Castiel always is suspicious of him!

But this time, Sam felt the mood shift a little as soon as Cas sighed and leaned back into his seat.

Sam’s heart was beating in his chest, just like it always did when him and Cas were somehow alone or he had an interaction with the angel.

He doesn’t know if it was a demon instinct or that he had a big fat “teenage” crush on the so called angel.

Sam will rather go with option one.

Or neither, if possible.

Its not like Sam wants to feel this way, especially when Cas is his brothers best friend (and maybe almost boyfriend). He honestly doesn’t know, but he does notice the tension between those two.

The way Dean gets soft to Cas, like he never was to Sam, it is quite the scene.

He can honestly just hope for those feelings to disappear completely one day, its not like Cas would love him anyway.

“How long are you gonna keep this up, Samuel?” Cas breathes out, hinting a bit of exhaustion in his voice, looking straight at Sam.

Sam’s eyes widen immediately as his shallow yet uncoordinated breathing followed up. He tried calming down, tried making it less obvious that he could go crazy any minute.

With as much calmness he can get to in the moment, he asks shakily, “What do you mean, keep up what?”

Slam.

Castiel slammed the laptop shut and was stood. Sams eyes were even more widened than before and had a hint of blush on his face, maybe also some reaction down there.

The Angel had a stern yet soft expression on his face as if he was genuinely sick, fed up of whatever Sam was doing.

The silence couldn’t be even more noisy after the slam, as it was exposing Sam’s shaky, caught off guard breathing.

Their eye contact was long and deep, as if Castiel could burn right through them any moment.

Ironically.

As it took long enough for Castiel to realize that this length of the pause was getting awkward and intense, he coughed and backed off, by standing straight in front of Sam.

He fixed his coat up a little before speaking, “You know. The avoiding of me, an angel, in your presence or maybe the lack of attention, even words, to me. Why is that?”

If Sam wasn’t nervous enough before, he might’ve hit the limit right now. His hands starting shaking as no words left his mouth, as if he froze in place.

What could he possibly reply to that?

Castiel got out of the way of the desk and walked to Sam’s side to cup the man by his cheek and turn his head to face him, the hand moving down to hold his chin up.

Sam’s lips turned dry and eyes were fixated on Castiel’s, blue like the Atlantic, eyes.

“I..”, Sam manages to get out, however didn’t help his case.

“Hm, tell me, Sam. What is up with the ignorance?”

Sam’s cheek heated up like crazy. His heart was basically already out of his chest beating like crazy. He managed to lick his lips and gulp down.

“Nothing, it’s nothing”, he breathed out trying to get out of Castiel’s grip, before he felt the tight squeeze and couldn’t move a bit.

Castiel sighed as he slightly loosen the grip, as to not hurt the man.

“You know that’s not true, Sammy”, the nickname made Sam’s head spin, do stuff to him.

‘Please, keep calling me that’ is what he wants to say, but how could he? It would only ruin everything that he tried so hard to build up between them.

Every single answer would ruin their friendship, relationship.

Why now, why exactly at the time he doesn’t know what to do?

“Do you like me, Samuel?”

Silence.

Dead silence.

No, no, no, no, no. Don’t call me that. Please, please, please! Please just everything, but not that.

How is he supposed to answer that? Was it even really a choice at the moment to answer or not.

Im your Sammy, so please call me that, please.

Cas let go of Sam’s face as he turned his head to the side and proceeds to walk out the room while mumbling a ‘whatever. It was a stupid question.’

“Yes”, was all he had to hear for Cas to turn back and freeze at where he stood before, in front of the (to the side turned) sitting boy.

“What?”

breathe.

“Yes, I do. I like you”, Sam felt a hole in his stomach, scared shitless of the possibilities of Cas’ reaction right after he finishes talking, “Hell, I like you so much that I always start shaking, gasping for air and stutter like a teenage girl saying ‘hi‘ to her hallway crush for the first time.”

Corny, but worth it.

Yet again a silence that got broken off by a calm soft voice.

Not the good kind, but maybe curiosity.

“Are you not ashamed of how dean might react to this intimacy of ours? Your feelings towards me might really damage the relationship between you and your brother”, Cas talks in his yet always wise voice.

“It’s damaged enough, what do you want me to do? I just love you, I can’t control it”, Sam gasps out, tears threatening to fall as shame fulfills that pit in his stomach.

But yet, for fucked up reasons, his cock was hard in his jeans, with no shame.

Which seems like Castiel noticed it and had zero shame as well to ask.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Sam gathers his words, looking up at him with teared up eyes and a shaking bottom lip,

“Cas, please, just this once.”

And he complied.

No other words exchanged as Cas took Sam by his wrist and dragged him to the bed, gently pushing him down so he lays flat down.

Sam was ashamed enough to move anyway. So he just watched Castiel unzip his jeans to reach to the hardened cock with underwear covering it.

Cas pulled Sam’s jeans off for him and let it drop onto the floor as he positioned himself on the bed, between his legs.

His hands rid up Sam’s shirt, slowly lifting it up until above his chest, which his fingers caressed over his nipples.

Sam never knew he would be this sensitive to Castiel’s touch as whimpers left his mouth with no control.

Cas was gentle with his expressions, yet his fingers were pinching and abusing his nipples.

He decides to lean down and wrap his lips around Sam‘s left nipple, his right hand on Sam‘s right nipple.

His tongue licked over the nipple, wetting it while looking up at Sam. The sight was immaculate enough to almost make Sam come in his underwear right there.

Fuck, Cas was a complete tease.

“Please, Cas, please, please, please—“,

Sam groans when Cas bites down and then let’s go to suck on them, as a way to sooth them.

Now tears of pleasure instead of shame were spilling from Sam’s eyes as he slowly put his hands on Castiel’s shoulders, gently gripping onto them for support.

The shirt was creasing under Sam‘s touch before Cas decided to let go of boy‘s body whole, only forcing the shirt off of him.

Now Sam was completely naked (apart from the boxers) in front of Cas while Cas just took of his upper body clothes, only unzipping his jeans and letting his lower part stay clothed.

Sam was desperate to see the Angel clothes free, as he slowly caressed his hands down to the cock of the man.

But before he could imagine anything further, Cas slid his hands in Sam‘s underwear, cupping his ass cheeks before he leans down to kiss the man.

Sam wraps his arms and legs around Cas as he melts into the oddly gentle kiss, mouth wet all over.

Cas gives the boy‘s ass a squeeze before one finger was teasing his hole. Sam gasped silently as it was sudden of Cas pushing in a whole finger, his walls hugging tightly on the dry finger.

It was burning, it did not feel good at all.

But Sam couldn’t get the words out as he really didn’t want to miss this chance.

His only chance of ever having this with Cas before he watches him run to his brother, Dean, and possibly even get together.

It’s not fair! He loved Cas first, he always loved Cas more, but why did the angel have to go and like Dean? Someone who denies his sexuality with all his strength just to go to some bar and drink his brains out.

Cas broke the kiss as he slowly went down Sam‘s neck leaving a peck before sitting straight, so he can pull Sam‘s underwear off and finger him normally. Quickly demanding Sam to suck a little on his fingers, taking them back immediately after.

The cold breeze hit Sam‘s cock and hole as he shivered. He sat his ass back down as he lifted it before to let Cas take his underwear down.

His legs were spread wide, his hands sneaking to his thighs, holding them open.

Cas had a small glitter in his eyes as he leaned down to nip at Sam‘s inner thigh, his index finger teasing his way into his hole.

Sam whimpered, his chest rising before dropping again when Cas‘ lips left his thigh alone and instead kissed his lower abdomen.

That one finger turned into two and then directly to three as he thrusted in and out. Sam‘s hands gripped for the sheets as he huffed fast.

Cas was still struggling with understanding some humans cant go as fast or have the stamina an angel does. But Sam is slowly trying to learn to last longer, so its a good challenge.

“Cas, please I need you in me. please—“, Sam gasped when he felt the fullness leave and get replaced with emptyness.

Cas still had the calm, straight face he always had around anyone, except dean of course. Always dean.

It broke Sam, he doesnt know why, but the angel just seeing him like any other person broke him. It really did.

Sometimes he might’ve caught himself wishing he was Dean.

Cas pulls his underwear under his balls, as he strokes his desperate hardening cock.

“Im going to enter now”, Cas warns as he slowly pushes in with a groan, stretching out Sam.

Sam’s vision went blurry, he felt the Angel already move before he could realize it any further.

Castiels hands were on his hips, holding tightly as he pounded into Sam with full force, showing no mercy, hitting the man’s prostate every time.

He begged for his release, by each thrust groans and whimpers slipping from each other as Sam’s cock slapped his own stomach.

It really didn’t take long before Sam was begging again, “Im gonna come, please Cas.”

And by that Cas wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock and started pumping to which Sam shot out, leaving out a scream.

He was shaking from the orgasm as Cas let go of his cock and pull out of the boy.

When Sam was feeling more conscious after the orgasm, he was confused as to why the Angel didn’t come yet.

He watched as Cas zipped his jeans up and threw his shirt on, neatly and not missing any buttons on his shirt.

“Why didn’t you come?” Sam took the courage to ask as he covered himself with the blanket.

Cas was done with the tie as he slowly turned to Sam, having an as confused expression as Sam.

“I did this purely for your pleasure, Sam. I was helping you out, and if we are done now, I’m going to have to leave and look for Dean”, Castiel calmly responded as he turned to the mirror, making sure his hair was in place, “Oh, and did you see my coat by any chance?”

Sam felt his world shudder into even more pieces than before. Anger and Sadness all in once taking over him.

Why couldn’t at least Castiel lie to him, tell him he loved him or just come for the shake of this!

“Just seriously go Castiel! I had it with you, just go and look for your Dean”, Sam spat as he threw the man’s coat at him. He stood up from the bed, his knees weak, but enough strength to pull his underwear on and try to fetch on some joggers and a shirt.

Cas was trying to keep up to the situation as he held Sam by his wrist, trying to get out some kind of information off the boy. Why was he throwing a tantrum?

Sam harshly waved the hand off of him as he turned to Cas with tears spilling down, a pained expression on the man’s face.

Did Cas do this to him?

“Just go, please. We are done for today”, Sam gasped as he watched the Angel take his arm back and disappear into thin air.

Sam broke into pieces as he just stood there and sobbed his eyes out to some feelingless Angel who would forget about this by the next minute.

Who didn’t even care if he had sex with Sam, he just did all those soft kisses and gentle touches to feed Sam’s pure delusions.

[teh-kittykat]

Ficlet - Blink

I don't think this is floating around Tumblr anymore, but I found it in my stuff when I was moving computers. It's ten years old, but what the hell, I'ma repost it.

It started with a gif and a note about how there was a lack of stuff about Sam and Rinzler getting along, and, well...

Blink

The first time it happened, Sam was pretty sure his life was over.

The transition was subtle—one moment Tron was following him while he laid out some plan or another for the Grid, making little polite I’m-listening noises that somehow still managed to sound sarcastic, and the next there was a thready rumble behind him, and Tron’s epic bitchface was replaced with Rinzler’s featureless helmet. And okay, maybe Sam freaked just a little, words cutting off mid-syllable as he froze.

Rinzler just tilted his head—and it was Rinzler, circuits glowing vibrant orange—and then tilted the helmet around like he was looking for something. The really bizarre thing was that after a moment he just stopped, flinching back and hunching, tensed, until he had somehow managed to make himself shorter than Sam.

All right. So maybe instead of doing anything intelligent Sam just stood there and gaped for a good few minutes. Rinzler still didn’t go for his disks—and it was disks, since for whatever reason he’d had to sync in two of the damn things when they dragged Tron’s ass out of the Sea. If anything, the program seemed to shrink on himself further, helmet locked on in what Sam had to assume was a stare. Just when Sam was about to open his mouth to actually try and say something, Rinzler’s circuits winked out and re-lit blue-white, and then Tron was asking why Sam looked like he’d seen a data-ghost.

The second time it happened, things were a little more tense.

Gridbugs were a fact of life in a system under construction, Sam found out, and apparently even using legacy hardware for the Grid’s new physical home wasn’t going to change that fact anytime soon. It was pretty fun learning he could just blast through the damn things like something out of an anime—and so what if he grew up staying up way too late to watch bad dubs on Cartoon Network?—and it felt pretty good to stand back-to-back with Tron while they fought the nest of them. Only… when Sam turned around to check on Tron, it was Rinzler at his back instead, tearing through bugs with an acrobatic eagerness that was actually pretty amazing to watch if you weren’t the target of it. Rinzler didn’t blink out, either, when the bugs were done for, but rather he did the same flinch-and-hunch as before. It reminded Sam of catching Roy’s niece playing with his old action figures once.

“Hey… good job back there,” Sam said, feeling like an idiot because this was just inviting undivided killbot attention, but instead of the obvious attack, Rinzler actually stood up a little straighter and nodded, his rumble going deeper for a moment before Tron was back and asking for a status update.

It went like that, as Sam did the painstaking work of trying to heal what his dad and Clu had managed to break. Every once in a while Tron would just blink away and Rinzler would appear to fight bugs or peer suspiciously at Sam’s work or sometimes just to hang from the ceiling. The last even started to stop being freaky after Rinzler did it and scared the shit out of Shaddox.

Sam never said he was mature.

He tried to bring it up with Tron. The monitor had apologized profusely and practically shoved his disks in Sam’s hands and demanded to be bug-checked right there, something haunted and worried in his eyes. No amount of reassurance that it was okay, that Rinzler wasn’t hurting anyone, stopped the insistence until Sam actually did check the relevant code with Tron as a worried audience.

The funny thing? There was nothing out of the ordinary there.

No convenient color-coded section that said hey, here’s Rinzler. No remnants of Clu’s control coding, which felt like a personal victory because cleaning up the mess of agonizing restrictions had been a bitch and a half and it was probably a miracle Tron still talked to him with as much trial-and-error as it took. Not even a check from the outside, with Alan’s archival copy of Tron’s code to look from, showed any real deviation from his core command set aside from the evolution and customization that, as an AI project, Tron should have after twenty goddamn years.

Honestly, armchair psychology was a bit out of Sam’s area, and he really doubted that he could drag Tron to a therapist to figure out why Rinzler kept manifesting at odd moments.

When the transition came this time, Sam had sprawled across Tron’s lap because the program was repairing damage and insisting he was fine with a big crack in his torso. Sam glanced up from the reports he was skimming to see Rinzler—thankfully whole—peering down at him.

“Hey, Rinzler. Stay still a bit longer. Your alter ego did a number on you. Big-ass worm. You shoulda seen it,” Sam said, absently patting Rinzler’s knee as he went back to the datapad. For a while they just sat together in silence, Sam’s attention drifting back into the intricacies of power flows and information routing. Warm hands settled on Sam’s back, and a few moments later he heard an unearthly humming. It took a moment to realize it was Rinzler, whose utter contentment was flowing through the circuit-contact along Sam’s back.

Sam smiled to himself and scrolled the report. This was something he could live with.

[takenbypeter]

From Pretend To Real

Scott Lang x reader (first Scott Lang fic woohoo!!”

Words: 1099

FLUFF BINGO

Scott’s not the jealous type. He’s not. In fact he thinks it’s a waste of time to be jealous. So why did he find himself on a Sunday night sitting on the avengers compound couch trying to block the image of you, (in that sparkling black dress that did your figure oh so well), hooked around Sam’s arm out of his head the whole night.

Honestly he wasn’t jealous, but rather more annoyed, is what he tried to convince himself. Just the timing from the get go was all wrong. This morning he was finally going to do it. He was finally going to confess to you that he may have…slight romantic feelings towards you. He wasn’t worried because honestly he had a feeling you felt the same way. I mean you two flirted constantly, at least he thought it was flirting. He was pretty sure it was flirting…great now he’s questioning himself. Either way, he was going to do it, but right as he was going to get the words out, here comes Bucky Barnes letting you both know that you were needed pronto.

The debrief was about going undercover as a couple to a fancy dinner party and gaining some intel.

It’s supposed to be a simple mission; get in, mingle, get info, then get out. The mission isn’t what’s bothering him, it’s the fact that you were partnered with someone else. You were partnered with Sam.

Sam’s a great guy, everyone loves Sam, but, when they first explained you were going on this mission, Scott automatically assumed that he’d be your partner, considering you two were usually paired together. But this time you weren’t.

Okay so maybe he was a tiny bit jealous. But can you blame him?

It only made it worse that he wasn’t there to see the night unfold and all he could do was have his mind run wild, imagining all sorts of things. He knows you can handle yourself but it’s just thoughts that’s killing him.

The night goes by.

Slowly.

It isn’t until midnight that he hears both of your voices back in the compound. He can hear you two chuckling as you enter the living area.

“Sounds like you two had a blast,” he points out, tone genuine.

“Honestly, yeah I surprisingly had a pretty fun night,” you shot a look towards Sam which didn’t go unnoticed by Scott. “Mission was successful but I’ll give you the details soon. Right now I need to get as far away from this uncomfortable dress as possible.”

“I’ll be waiting here,” he shouts after you, eyes not wanting to leave your frame even after you’ve turned the corner, out of sight.

The only thing that tore his eyes was the sound of a dish clanging against the counter followed by the word “S$&#!” Coming from the kitchen area.

He knew better than to bother the avenger he once battled with but curiosity got the better of him. Following the sound he popped into the kitchen, acting normal of course, or at least that’s what he convinced himself. In actuality he was very much acting suspiciously.

Grabbing a cup and pouring himself some juice he leaned against the counter and crossed his arm over his chest taking a sip from the cup before pointing in the direction of the doorway. “So tonight sounded fun…”

“Don’t even try tiny.”

Sam knew exactly what he was here for and he wasn’t going to give him any info.

“Right, of course not,” Scott said, clearing his throat and pushing his body off from the counter. Grabbing another cup and filling it up he returned back to his spot on the couch where he waited, taking the occasional sip here and there until you would eventually come out, in a typical t-shirt and sweatpants.

Easily spotting the drink you thank him and sit in the spot beside him, taking a sip from the cup.

“So tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Oh come on. Before going you were dreading the fancy-schmancy dinner vibe, what happened?”

“Nothing really, it was just a lot more fun than I expected.”

“Oh yeah, how?”

You shrugged your shoulders but he just jutted his head towards you, motioning for you to answer the question.

“Okay yes, I was dreading it and getting the intel was easy…”

Scott shifted in his spot crossing his legs on the couch showing you he was listening. “It was honestly boring and I wanted to leave like right away but Sam thought it would be cool to stick around and actually try enjoy the party. I’ve never been to a fancy party like that. The food was absolutely delicious, the building was gorgeous and I actually danced.”

Scott’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, not even pretending to hold back his surprise. “No.”

“Yes…”

You went on about how surprised you were with how fun the party was and the good time you had. With each statement, Scott was adding another layer to the image in his head, imagining the scene unfold as he just continued to wish he was there with you.

Without realizing it, his face fell into a dazed appearance and for a little bit it seemed like you lost him.

“Sorry I’m probably boring you with all this.” you apologized, scratching your cheek and taking one more sip from your drink.

Scott seemed surprised before blinking his wide eyes and clicking his tongue. “No, not at all!”

He closes his lips and takes a tiny breath of air for confidence. “Not going to lie though I really wish it was me who was partnered up with you tonight.”

You grinned at his words before leaning closer to him in a hushed voice, “is it bad that I wished the same?”

Your grin only widened as he leaned closer, the distance from your face shortening. Despite the quickening of his own pulse he still breathed out, “new question, is it bad that I have feelings for you?”

You hid your surprise well, opting to melt on the inside having finally confirmed that he shared the same feelings for you. Despite what your insides felt you maintained your unfazed expression before you continued this twenty question game you two seemed to be doing, “is it bad that I want to kiss you?”

Which is when he responds, “is it bad that I want to kiss you?”

Okay you were officially done with this playful back and forth, opting to just go for it and smoothly leaned close pressing your lips into his, which he easily follows.

[bubble-popping]

yoooo ur stockholm syndrome au sounds so interesting!!!!

referring to the tags: lol yeah it is a little ooc for techno i suppose

i hope you don't mind me asking some more questions

what does the trophy room look like? does techno make dream use the revive book, or is he just content in the knowledge that he has it? does philza think anything techno is doing is sus?

I don't mind answering questions at all! I love talking about my au's and it makes me so happy to see others interested in them as well :')

Answers will be under the cut again for anyone uncomfortable with the concept :)

The trophy room at the start would be rather bare bones but with everything a person needs to survive. Over time, as c!Dream gets more used to the environment, he'll ask for more things to be put in, everything from simple decorations to entire new room additions. C!Techno thinks he's a rather high maintenance trophy, but he supposes if it keeps Dream compliant then it's not a big deal. Plus, he thinks it's adorable how Dream smiles just at the sight of some more pillows for his bed.

The only people Techno would ever let Dream use the book on would be himself or Phil, and he doesn't plan on either of them dying any time soon, so he's mostly content on knowing he has that power more than anything else. He tries not to mention it too much in front of Dream, among other things like the Syndicate which he keeps very much in the dark on what he's doing, so as to make him think this is all only for Dream's safety.

Phil is naturally included in the Syndicate, he too is not privy to the situation, at least for a while. Eventually, he grows suspicious about Techno's frequent trips that last for days, and he confronts Techno about it. Being the only other person he cares about, Techno can't bring himself to keep him in the dark any longer. The only thing Phil's really worried about is the trouble it might bring with people still actively looking for Dream, but Techno reassures him that it won't interfere with the Syndicate's plans.

Speaking of, it should be known Sam and Quackity aren't the only ones looking for Dream. A certain mercenary is quite concerned about his employer's whereabouts and they're much harder to simply wave away :)

[thelazyhermits]

I was wondering if you would do a one shot of twisted wonderland for a potion mishap, where Yuu turns into a child. The reason I asked this because in your version of Yuu she was robbed of a childhood. I would like to see Yuu enjoy being a kids and the Twisted Wonderland cast act as older brothers or dads in some cases (that means you Trey and Crewel.)

Since my Yuu is the same as the Reader Insert I first created for my BNHA fics, I have received this type of request many times in the past since I've written fics where I've deaged others but I never did it with her, and because of her lack of a proper childhood, she's the one who could benefit from getting turned into a child more than anyone.

The reason I've never written such a fic is because I am not confident about writing from a child's POV since kids can be kinda hard for me to write especially if I'm actually getting into their heads which I would have to do cause I prefer to write from 2nd person POV.

Another problem is that meeting a child Yuu would raise a lot of worrisome questions to anyone who sees her cause her unfortunate upbringing would be pretty obvious just from interacting with her since she'd be wary of all aduts, skittish, really quiet, and would just overall not act like anyone would expect a normal kid to act.

It would honestly be a really awkward situation since Yuu wouldn't trust anyone and she'd just wanna hide away rather than deal with anyone since, to her, there's always the risk that someone will hurt her, which would obviously be very heartbreaking for a lot of people.

Since I'd rather not have Yuu have to deal with the aftermath of that, I'm very reluctant to write that kinda fic since I really don't want everyone to find out about her past.

In order to avoid that, Yuu would have to be younger than she was before she ended up in Japan's underworld so 3 years old or younger and I'm really not confident about writing from that young a POV lol

That's why the only way I could see myself writing a deaged Yuu fic is if Yuu was only physically a kid aka her mental state remains unchanged since that would make it so that she can avoid raising a lot of unwanted questions.

Or I'd make it so that her mental state is that of a child but at the same time she's still aware of her circumstances and who everyone is so she can avoid doing or saying suspicious things so like she tries to act normal but will suddenly be overcome with the urge to do something a kid would do like wanting to go play and run around.

The latter could be doable for me, so I would consider possibly writing a fic like that one day, although I can't make any promises.

Regardless of what kinda deaged state she ends up in, plenty of the TWST boys would wanna dote on her, and that would definitely be the case for all the adults, Crewel and Sam especially lol

Trey would absolutely be the #1 big bro contender cause of his experience and cause he knows she didn't have much of a childhood due to her being similar to Riddle in his eyes, so he would spoil her as much as possible haha

I agree that Yuu deserves a chance to be a kid, and I'm sure it'd be a lot of fun to write her getting spoiled, so I will keep this idea in mind ^^