#sam is mentioned to love peanut butter like three times but we never see him eating it in canon... sad!

[sammygender]

fascinated to know at what point in sam's life he goes from happily subsisting off takeaway pizza (a la flagstaff) and cereal and mac n cheese with marshmellow fluff to exclusively eating Health Food which seems to just actually consist of salads. twelve year old sam likes peanut butter sandwiches enough that its what dean steals for him... i cant decide if thats more on the health food/disordered eating side or the kiddie random junk food crap side. i think possibly the latter but he retains attachment to peanut butter forever. some people would say the sudden food weirdness happens at stanford which, maybe? but thats boring to me its more interesting to think of it as happening at some point when sam's a teenager. pov you develop an eating disorder to #stick it to your dad.

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Fallout of the Century 🌑💔

Part 1. 🥜

Word-count: 4.5K

Warnings- This is very angsty, Mentions of cheating, falling apart, and overall depression. 

Masterlist

Summery: Your wold has practically fallen apart when you walk in on something you weren't supposed to see. Causing you and your soon to be husband Harry Holland to call of your engagement. Months pass and you are just trying to put the pieces back together. Will you ever be able to sort your life out?

My head came up from under the surface, breaking the water around me. I let out a gasp as I rubbed the water from my face. There was a banging at the bathroom door before it swung open with force. He swung the curtain open, exposing my naked body. He had seen me this way before, so the sight didn't even make him bat an eyelash. 

“Seriously peanut? I was out there for like three minutes calling you.” His tone was harsh and firm, this was not the first time this had happened. Ever since the break up I just wasn't the same anymore, and the only one who saw the bad was Harrison. 

“Sorry,” I muttered , slipping back below the surface of the water. Harrison’s hands reached in and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up.

“We are not doing this again peanut,” he groaned as he pulled me to my feet, soaking himself in the process. 

“Harrison, I'm fine,” I tried to convince him, but he knew otherwise. 

“I know tonight will be hard, and I know you'll want to bail, and I know that you will hate it, but I'll be right here, and so will Tuwaine. We have to try and put this behind us,” He pulled the towel around my shoulders and helped me out of the tub. He walked me to my bedroom and stood in the doorway until I had a pair of leggings and a hoodie on. “You sure you want to wear that one?” he asked. I looked down, noticing I had grabbed Harry's pink hoodie, because I was in such a haze. I felt tears rush to my eyes as I pulled it off and grabbed one of my own. We walked down to the living room and sat on the armchairs, waiting. My hair was still wet, and Harrison’s shirt was damp from helping me out of the bath, but I was sure no one would notice. Or care. 

First to arrive was Tuwaine, he walked over giving me a hug and kissing my forehead before finding his usual spot on the couch. Next it was Sam, then Tom, and then finally. Harry. 

He didn't look good, not like himself, he looked sad and hollow, but i tried to ignore it. Six months ago there would have been one more person with us, but six months ago seemed like a lifetime away.

Harry walked past me, without even so much as a glance, which was no different than I had expected. 

Harrison pulled out the board game and arranged it on the table in front of us. I looked up and caught Harry's glance, he instantly looked away. I sighed and went to get up but was stopped by Harrison’s voice. 

“OK, this is going to go differently tonight. No name calling. No snide comments. No outbursts. None. and if anyone does, their buy-in is instantly up for grabs and you forfeit.” Everyone shook their heads at the new rules Harrison had put in place. It sucked to think Harry and I were the reason for it, but that's the way life works sometimes. 

Our monthly monopoly games had become nothing more than awkward, so when Harrison had brought it up last week at dinner I was instantly ready to find anything else to do, But he insisted I be there. 

So here I am, sitting across from the love of my life, broken and damaged and completely regretting agreeing to this. 

“You're on my property Y/N, pay up.” Harry said coldly to me. I grabbed the five dollars I owed him and handed it over. I felt bad for our friends, the tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. No one knew what had happened between us, but they all knew it had to have been bad. 

“Where has Olivia been?” Tuwaine asked, not knowing where the girl had disappeared to. Truth be told no one knew, because I had told her if she ever showed her face or talked to any of them again I would do a lot worse to her than she did to me. I took a deep breath trying to keep my cool. 

“I'm sorry Harrison, I just can't do this tonight,” I told him as I got up and stormed out of the living room. All I could think about was that night, the memories flashing through my mind. 

“Harry baby, I'm home,” I yelled as I walked into our small apartment. I had been out of town on a business trip, but somehow made it home earlier than i expected. I had set my keys on the table and noticed a key chain that I recognized, but was not my fiance’s. I remember the tightening in my stomach as I walked down the hall and saw discarded clothing all the way to our bedroom. And when I opened the door, I was shocked to see the man I was set to marry in less than four months and my best friend laying naked and asleep in my bed.

There was a knock on my door and it opened slowly. I looked up expecting Hazza but instead saw the man I once would do anything for. “Can I come in?” He asked quietly. I nodded my head and scooted over on the bed giving him a spot to sit. 

“They make you come up?” I asked him. 

“No, they actually told me not to.” He said. “You still haven't told them?” He asked me softly.

“I have no reason to ruin the way everyone sees you, Harry,” I told him coldly. He nodded and I could see him chewing the inside of his cheek, a bad habit he had when he was stressed. “Stop doing that, you're going to put a hole in your cheek,” I told him. He laughed at that although it was a dry laugh. 

“You know you're not the only one hurting Y/N,” He said boldly. I wasn't one to freak out, hell i was the calmest person i knew, but he had a way of just getting under my skin.

“No you're right Harry, I'm not. You must be devastated that you cheated on my with my best friend, you must be crushed that you wasted five years of your life just to throw it away over some dumb slut who was always out for your dick, You must be wrecked, not having to explain to all your family and friends that your wedding is canceled, and not having anything to tell them because your too loving of a person to ruin your ex’s reputation,��� i took a deep breath trying to keep my cool, seemed to be a trend tonight. 

“Well, you didn't exactly make the five years easy Y/N. I'm sorry I slept with Olivia, yes. But I'm pretty sure our relationship ended way before that,” I looked at Harry dumbfounded, our relationship had been perfect, never once was there any problems, until the week leading up to the fall out. 

“Because I got a good job and was traveling more?” I demanded. He nodded his head and it took everything inside me not to punch him in the jaw. “Get out Harry,” I told him, annoyed with his presence in my room. “And take that stupid hoodie with you,”

He stood up standing at the edge of the bed and looked down at the pink hoodie, before looking back at me. I thought for a moment I saw the boy I had fallen In love with all those years ago shine through, but his face quickly contorted back to what he had become. "That one always looked better on you, keep it," he said as he walked out the door. 

I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to cry. 

I wanted to feel anything.

But I just felt numb. 

I walked around the apartment grabbing all the discarded clothes and Olivia's keys before walking back to my bedroom and throwing them on them sleeping in MY bed. “Forgot to clean up after yourselves” I shouted slamming the door closed. I heard rummaging around and Olivia shrieked. 

“Oh my god what did we do?” 

Harry came rushing out of our bedroom and found me standing in the kitchen. “Baby, i don't know what happened,” He was panicking. Maybe they had gotten drunk, maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, but no excuse would make up for it. 

“I'm going to Harrison's, I'll be here to get my stuff in a few days,” Was all I told him that night. I walked out the door, my head held high and kept my composure until Harrison opened his door. I collapsed in his arms, every emotion flooding my body, I couldn't speak, or move. 

I rolled out of bed and looked at my alarm clock. 2am. I was sure the boys would probably still be down there playing the game. I needed to go and get a glass of water, so I walked downstairs and to the kitchen. Just as I thought they were all still huddled around the coffee table, empty beer bottles all around them. 

“Peanut!” Tom exclaimed as soon as his eyes saw me, “I thought you went to bed,” He was drunk, and I was sure he wasn't the only one.

“Need water,” I told him, giving him a weak smile. 

“She sleeps with like five bottles next to the bed,” Harry laughed. I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen. I could hear some of the conversation from the kitchen but nothing sparked my interest until I heard Harry say. “Well if i would not have slept with Olivia then nothing would be fucked up, so its my fault anyway,” all the noise subsided. 

I stepped out of the kitchen with my water in hand and looked at Harry who was sitting with his face in his hands, and everyone else was staring at him, with their jaws on the floor. 

“Is that why you guys broke up?” Tom asked. He wasn't asking me, he needed to hear from his brother. I had kept all of the bad to myself, not wanting anyone to look at Harry like a monster. Cause i knew he wasn't one. 

Harry didn't move his hands from his face, “I fucked it all up,” He groaned. I felt a twinge of guilt rush over me and I went to go comfort him despite how much he had hurt me, but Sam stood up as soon as he saw me take a step, shaking his head. I nodded and scurried off to my room, soon after I heard my door open, and Harrison walked in, flipping my light switch on. “You didn't tell me.” He said.

“Didn't want you to see him differently,” I told him quietly.

“With Olivia?” He asked as he walked over to my bed. 

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “I'm not innocent in this though, so please don't feel sorry for me,” I told him. 

“How are you not innocent?” He asked me. 

I thought about whether or not I wanted to tell Harrison, would he think as low of me as Harry now did? “Before me and Harry got together. One night we were all out at a pub, and me and Tom snuck off and, had sex. The next day he told us he blacked out and didn't remember anything, so I never brought that night up. Me and Harry started dating like a month after that, but I kept that secret. Until I threw it in his face to hurt him.” I sighed. I didn't want to look at Harrison, I was scared he would look at me like a monster. 

“That was before you together though, it's not the same nut,” He said, surprising me. 

“Maybe not, but it was still shitty of me,” I told him.  He shrugged his shoulders and then we started to hear yelling downstairs. Harrison got up and left to go see what was going on.

About an hour passed and the yelling had stopped and so had any noise. I assumed everyone had gone to bed or left. My door opened quietly and then shut. There was a shuffling as someone climbed into bed next to me. I rolled over and before my eyes even made out who it was, the smell hit me. So familiar yet so distant. 

“Harry,” I whispered, looking at the ginger boy whose eyes were puffy and nose was red, surly from crying.

“I know,” He whispered. “I just, can I please, just tonight?” he asked. I wanted to be strong and tell him to get out of my room. I wanted to push him off my bed. I wanted to hate him. Truth be told, I missed him. Sleeping in his arms, his curly hair tickling my face as he snuggles into my neck, the sweet kisses he would litter my body with. 

“Just tonight,” I told him firmly. A smile spread across his lips and he pulled my body into his, holding me close, instantly falling back into a routine we both knew so well. 

“Hey miss,” A voice called from behind me. I turned to see Harry running after me. 

“Harry?” I asked recognizing him from a few nights we had bumped into each other at clubs and parties. 

“Oh you remembered?” He asked surprised. 

“I mean a face like that is pretty hard to forget,” I chuckled. 

“I was wondering if I could take you out? On a date?” He was nervous to ask me. 

“Yeah, id- Id like that a lot,” I told him, a smile spread across his face as we exchanged numbers.

I didn't know then how much I would love him. Also how much I would hate him. 

I opened my eyes and looked down to see the familiar arms still around me holding me tight. He was drunk last night so i hadn't been mad about him crashing in my bed, but i wasn't sure i wanted to lay here cuddling him. “Harry,” I said as I wriggled my body trying to get out of his firm grip. 

“Five more minutes,” He groaned. 

“Harry,” I said a bit more forcefully, making his arms loosen their grip so I could get up. “I have to get ready for work, and you should probably go,” I was practically whispering. 

“Peanut,” He started, but then shook his head. “You're right, I should go,” he pushed himself up and then stood up from the bed. He looked at me for a minute standing at the end of my bed with my arms crossed, I was sure I looked pathetic. He stepped forward, coming dangerously close to me. He reached out letting his fingers brush across my cheek. I felt the tears rush to my eyes, but held them back. “Will we ever be able to fix this?” He asked quietly. I bit my bottom lip, hard, trying to figure out how to respond. 

“Is there anything worth fixing anymore?” I asked him. Looking up and seeing the hurt in his eyes. 

“I think a life with you is worth fixing,” He muttered. “I'm sorry,” He said before he walked out of my room. 

 I threw myself onto my bed and groaned. My life honestly sucked. I got out of bed and got ready for work. I walked down to the kitchen to see Harrison drinking a cup of tea. “Hazza,” I smiled. 

“I don't like it,” he said softly. I turned to him as I poured my coffee. 

“Don't like what?” I asked. 

“Him trying to weasel his way in. you deserve more than him, and he knows it,” i was caught off guard by his sudden anger towards Harry. 

“Harrison, I-” I was quickly cut off as he stepped forward, grabbing my face and pushing his lips into mine. I was going to push him away, but I found myself kissing him back. He broke his lips away from mine and left the kitchen without so much as a word. Leaving me standing there, dumbfounded and confused. 

I grabbed my keys and left the house. Maybe work would be less confusing than my morning. 

“Try it,” Harry pushed the sushi in my face. 

“Harry, it has raw fish,” I complained, pushing it back. 

“Babe just take a tiny bite, you might just like it,” He told me. I rolled my eyes and took the smallest bite, chewing for a minute and then spitting it in the napkin. 

“Awful, just like I thought,” I told him.he laughed as he pushed the sushi to the side and leaned forward, kissing me. 

“I love you,” He whispered for the first time. 

“You do?” I asked. He nodded his head and kissed me once more. “I love you, Harry,” I told him. 

Work flew by, faster than I would have hoped. My day had come to an end and I was sitting in my car, debating on what to do, when my phone started to ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it's me,” id recognize that voice anywhere. 

“What do you want Olivia?” I asked. 

“Can we just talk? I miss you.” 

“I don't want to talk to you, and i don’t miss you,” i hung up the call without letting her respond. I just wanted to crawl into a whole and die. 

I drove home, and parked in my spot. I wasn't sure I wanted to go in. Harrison had kissed me this morning. Which in and of itself was weird, but add on top of that that I had spent the night with Harry. I threw my head back hitting the headrest, I let out a loud groan as I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I had dialed too many times to count. 

“Are you OK?” His voice was full of concern and worry, I hadn't called him in months. 

“I'm so lost, Harry,” I said quietly.

“Like you need me to come and find you? Or metaphorically?” He asked me, i could sense the smirk through the phone.

“Metaphorically, I guess.” I told him.

“I can come to you if you want,” He sounded hopeful and eager. 

“No.” I just wanted to talk to you,” I muttered. Why had I called him anyway? Did I enjoy torturing myself? “Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?” 

“The sushi date? Of course I do nut,” He said quietly. 

“I was sure that that was forever. That day, I knew it was you, and it always would be. Looking back, we were so happy. So why did you do it?” I had never given him a chance to explain what had happened that night, every time he would try I would storm off or yell. I think deep down I didn't want to know the truth, but if I was going to figure out what I was doing I needed to know all the facts. 

I heard him sigh through the other side of the phone. “I missed you, probably too much. She had come over for some reason, and I had been drinking, I don't even remember it. I just remember waking up, to you throwing clothes and shoes at us, and then seeing your face. I… I didn't know it was possible to physically feel your heart shatter, but that night I did. I felt my whole world slip out from under me,” He sounded sincere.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Tom. That wasn't a fair secret to keep, I should have told you as soon as I knew he was your brother,” I said. 

“It was none of my business, It happened before we even knew each other,” he said. 

“I love you Harry. I do. But i don’t what to do,” I whispered. 

“I love you, I'll keep fighting for you, for us. This can't be how we end, ours was the epic one, the love story for the ages,” he said.

“And it was the fallout of the century,” I whispered as I hung up. 

I walked into the house, not sure what to expect. Harrison was standing in the kitchen cooking something and Tuwaine was on the couch watching TV. “Smells good,” I told Harrison as I walked over to beside him. 

“It's your favorite,” He said, giving me a big smile. 

“What's the occasion?” I asked. He looked at me with a goofy grin and his crystal blue eyes.

“Just thought you could use a little pick me up,” He leaned over kissing my forehead, which was not out of the ordinary. 

“I definitely do need it,” I said as I went to the couch, throwing myself down next to Tuwaine. 

“Work?” He asked me. 

“It was fast, so not bad” I smiled at him. 

“And are you OK? I mean last night was kind of a lot for all of us,” He muttered. 

“I will be, in time. I just need to figure out what I need and want,” he looked over his shoulder to Harrison who was distracted with his cooking. 

“I don't know if you know this or not, but he's in love with you, and I know Harry still is too. Things are probably going to get really complicated,” He warned me.

“I don't even know what to do. Harry crushed me, like soul shattering pain, but I still love him. And Hazza, i mean i love him so much, but I've never considered him as anything other than a friend,” i told Tuwaine. 

“Well, you never had to consider Hazza as anything else, cause you had Harry, and now you don't. So you can make the choice for yourself. Maybe Harrison is who you were meant to be with, and Harry was just keeping you close until Harrison was ready,” he whispered, shrugging his shoulders. I laughed at that.

“Damn,” Harrison said from the kitchen. We both looked back to see him staring at us. 

“What?” I asked him.

“I missed the sound of your laugh,” He said, making my cheeks go red. Maybe Tuwaine was right.

We ate dinner and talked and laughed about our days, before turning in for the night. Tuwaine’s room was on the opposite side of the house than mine and Harrison’s, so Harrison walked me to my bedroom door. 

“I'm sorry about this morning, that may have been out of line,” he ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair. 

“You don't need to apologize to me,” I told him, grabbing his hand. “I just don't know if I'm ready to move on, or not,” I whispered. 

“Well, when you decide you are, you know where i'll be,” He leaned in, pushing his lips softly against mine before walking across the hall to his room. As if my life wasn't already confusing.

“Harry!” I groaned as we hiked up the tall hill. 

“Just a bit farther, baby, I promise the view will be worth it,” He told me. We reached the top of the hill just as the sun was setting over the horizon. It was a breathtaking view. I turned to Harry, or where he should have been, but he wasn't there. I turned around to see him down on one knee in front of me holding a little white box. 

“I know this is cheesy, but I'm a little cheesy. I've known for so long that you were my forever, my happily ever after. I can't imagine my life without you in it, and I don't want to. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He flipped the box open revealing a white band ring with a black and blue stone, something I had always said I wanted.

“Oh my god Harry, yes i'll marry you. A million times yes!” I exclaimed , pulling him to his feet and jumping into his arms. 

How did we go from that to now?

I was sitting on my bed, going through pictures when my phone vibrated. I looked down and it was a text from Harry. 

‘You think I could swing by for a minute?’ 

I knew I should tell him no, but I was curious as to what he wanted at this hour. 

‘Sure’ I texted him back. I heard the front door open almost as soon as the text was delivered, and then my door opened and he stepped into my room, shutting the door behind him. 

“You came before texting?” I asked him. 

“I forgot to, until I pulled in,” He sighed. “What are you doing?” He asked me. 

“Going through all these pictures. I want to frame a few, just don't know which ones,” I told him. He walked over grabbing one of the photos that I had in a pile, it was from when he proposed, a stranger had taken it for us. The picture itself was blurry but it was still my favorite. 

“That one was always my favorite,” He said, setting it back down. I nodded in agreement.

“So what brings you over?” I asked quietly. 

“Um, Olivia called me.” He said. My eyes shot up, my brows were furrowed and I could feel the anger rising inside of me. “She said you won't talk to her, and she just wants to apologize or something,” he sighed. “I didn't answer her, that's just what she said on my voicemail,” 

“Well i’m not going to call her, i don’t need her stupid apology,” I said blankly. “It sucks knowing my best friend came over to my house and took advantage of my intoxicated fiance. like I could maybe forgive you, in time. But I want to kill her, with every fiber of my being, I want to hurt her.” I took a deep breath, and looked at the pictures in my hands. 

“Yeah,” was all he said. 

“Maybe we should try dating,” I told him quietly. 

“Each other?” He asked me. 

“No, I mean other people. We should probably put ourselves back out there, and who knows maybe we will hate it and come back together. But it's been six months, we have to start moving on,” I sighed. 

He stood there looking at me, his eyes full of hurt and confusion, and I felt bad, but I knew that this was something we both needed. “Yeah we probably should do the dating thing, i'm not sure where I'd even look, but yeah,” He said. I rolled my eyes and laughed. 

“There is that girl at the coffee shop, she used to eye fuck you,” i told him. 

“The barista? Shelby?” I nodded, recalling how irritated I used to get when her eyes were all over him. “Maybe I'll ask for her number, or something,” He laughed. “And you?” 

“Hmm?”

“Where will you look?” he asked. 

“For dating? Oh I don't know.” I said, which was a blatant lie. 

“Okay, well I should go,” he smiled before leaving my room and then the house.

 I moved the pictures that were scattered across my bed to my dresser, and laid in my bed. I regretted telling Harry we should date other people, I think seeing him with someone would crush me even worse. I knew it was for the best though, we needed to give ourselves this, the chance to move on, to be happy, without each other. We had spent so long together that I had forgotten how to do the dating thing. 

“I found my dress,” I teased as I climbed onto Harry's lap. “It accentuates all the best parts of my body,” I leaned in letting my lips brush his earlobe before whispering “Your favorite parts,” 

He grabbed my ass squeezing it hard. 

“Can't wait to see you in it baby, I'm sure I'll be blown away,” he smiled sweetly. 

I leaned in to let our lips devour each other, until we needed more. 

And he never saw the dress, and he probably never would.

Part 2 🥜

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Prologue: History

Characters: OFC (Shane Benton), OMC (Elliott Thomas)

Summary: Shane Benton is a hard-working physical therapist and a loving girlfriend…but her boyfriend has a less than desirable way of showing it.

In case you’ve fallen behind or want to read more of my drabbles!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, angst, infidelity, domestic violence (moderate). Yeah, this may be a tad rough for some readers, but I tried to be mild, and mostly implicit. It was hard still, to see my fictional offspring go through this, even if she gives as good as she gets!

Author’s Note: Oh, y’all. When I needed a break from the sweet tenderness of Chapter 8, I came here and put Shane through some hell. (You can blame one of my friends I was talking about for this angst as they’re the one who put me into angsty headspace by cheating on my other friend! It’s been weighing on me! But I guess at least I’ve been able to use it!) I really hope you enjoy a bit of backstory on our heroine! I really liked writing her ferocity.

Also, I meant to have this posted yesterday, but because of some tragedy in one of my other fandoms (and the world, in general! Rest In Power, Chadwick Boseman!) and a bit of craziness in my personal life (my HS bestie wanted to hang out this weekend, so I spent a lot of time with her…also…I’ve been talking to a real live fella! OMG! And it’s entirely too soon to say that I like him, but like…I very much do…but he’s far away and recently single and things are complicated in just, several ways, so it just can’t happen at this point. But…like, we have been talking a ton recently, and…sigh. I have found it difficult to focus on the matters at hand. But, rest assured, I’m working on Chapter Nine, and it will be up just as soon as I find my rhythm!

Disclaimer: Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. (Well, this isn’t a super fun chapter, I guess!)

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! (Also, if you’ve asked and aren’t on the list...well...that would be because I forgot to add you and reminding me will not offend or upset me. I think I might have ADD, or something, and being reminded about things is kind of how I survive!) Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X

5 years ago-

Shane got home from work, exhausted. The new electronic documentation system they'd just implemented was kicking her ass. And Anita's, whom she constantly had to help with it, all the while hearing Anita bellow "When can I retire?!" which lost its charm on about the third day.

"Elliott, I'm home." She didn't smell anything cooking, despite the fact that she knew he was off all day today. Whatever. She was used to him doing virtually nothing but whatever hipster bullshit he got up to on Instagram and YouTube, trying to get off the ground as an influencer with a brand…spare her. Since when did that become a job? She didn’t mind to get takeout though, if only she knew he wasn’t cooking. Maybe she should have asked. "Honey, I could have picked something up if--" she was startled by him in the doorway to the hall, in only his anime boxers, looking like he was trying to not be surprised she was home. "What?"

"Nothing, just…excited to see you! How was your day?" Elliott asked, scratching the back of his neck, displacing his mid-length, slightly moppy light brown hair, already disheveled. That was his tell. Something was up. She knew it.

"What's going on? Are you hiding something from me?"

"Why would you ask me that? Don't you trust me, baby?!" he guilted. Knowing just the buttons to push for empathy. It wasn't gonna work today. The machine was all out of that selection and full of his bullshit currency.

"Now that you mention it, no. I sure as hell don't." she walked around to enter the hall and investigate the rest of the house. "Let me through." he wouldn't budge. He had the advantage of physical size, but she was still wearing her work uniform including sneakers…he was more than half naked. She stomped hard on his instep and smacked him in the ear as he doubled over. She felt marginally bad for that in the moment…at best he'd get mild tinnitus for a while. At worst, he could have permanent hearing damage. She'd check later for blood coming out of his ear and see if she should feel worse about it then.

She rounded the corner to their bedroom. The quilt her grandma had made her was carelessly crumpled with the top sheet and blanket at the foot board. She noticed a swatch of an orangey red lipstick on her pillow. The same shade smudged onto the full mouth of the panicking strawberry blonde frantically donning clothes in front of her antique mirror, and the same shade, she was guessing, that was smeared across certain places on Elliott’s body that were now covered by those boxers that she had always hated. You know what, Elliott, she thought to herself. Fuck Bleach, and fuck you!

"I'm sure you're a lovely person who's just been lied to by a very charming and manipulative man, but…you still only have ten seconds to get to my front door before I call the cops." Shane threatened the girl, who couldn't have been more than twenty-one…and he was thirty-three.

"She's my guest." Elliott defended.

"You're not even on the lease. Your credit was too bad." she said over her shoulder while still squared off with the girl. She turned back to her. "I'm trying to be calm here, sweetie. But do not make me tell you even one more time to get out of my…fucking…house." the girl picked up her shoes and a small messenger bag from the floor near where Shane stood, keeping as wide a berth as she could, and skittered out of the room in terror.

"How many times, Elliott?"

"Don't do this, Shane."

"No, I think this is something we should do. Count the times you’ve broken my trust. Kissed another girl, fooled around with one, fucked one…I mean…I've never caught you in our bed before, so this LOOKS like a first…I sure hope it is…because I don't recall you doing any laundry since you've lived here. And if I thought you let me sleep in the same sheets that you…I can't even look at you, you son of a bitch."

"It's not what you think, Shane." he said, calmly, as if he'd simply picked up the wrong consistency of peanut butter from the store. The wrong brand of milk. Not that he ever did the shopping.

"Bullshit. Bull. Shit. Elliott. I come home and find you like this, and there's a girl in OUR bedroom, and her lipstick is all over MY pillow, and your balls, no doubt. Not gonna make you prove it, because at this point, I don't give a shit anymore. I've lost count of how many times I've forgiven you, even times you didn't care enough to ask me to. Times you probably don't even know that I know about. But it's done. You're gonna pack up all your things. And you're gonna be gone by the time I get home from work tomorrow. And don't expect me to be late…because I will not be."

"You're acting crazy. You can't do this. Where will I go, Shane?"

"That's not my concern anymore. Find an apartment that accepts Likes and subscriptions and followers as rent and cherish it. But your free ride here is done. I'm not your mom, your maid, your cook, or…anything to you anymore, Elliott."

He was getting angry now. His nostrils flared and his breaths came more quickly.

"Is this because you're fucking another guy? Hmm?" he got in her space, but she was out of the bedroom and back into the hallway. She shouted back.

"Oh, NOW you're gonna try to deflect this onto me? When in holy hell would I have time to get with anyone but you, when we don't even have sex anymore?! It's been, what, two, three months?"

"You work with guys."

"You have no idea who I am. To think that I would do something like that. No idea at all. If I don't have time at home, I certainly don't have time for sex at work, and you can ask any of my coworkers, male OR female. That place is an unsexy, unholy shit show 90% of the time. And the other ten, it's just above bearable."

"Well, I'm still not going anywhere."

"You are. Like I said. You're not on the lease. And all I have to do is call the landlord and tell him you're here without my permission and he'll have the cops here." she had gotten a glass of water…although she needed something stronger, and was standing by the sink with it. Her mouth was getting dry. She couldn't take much more of this without breaking.

"You wouldn't really do that to me though. I'm the only man who can give you what you want." he grabbed her by the arm, hard.

"Let go of me, Elliott."

"Or what." he asked for it. She got the other instep, his groin, and threw water in his face. She grabbed her purse and bolted out the door.

She got quickly on the phone with Heather her closest friend who had recently been hired on as a secretary for her clinic.

"Yello." she said, cheerful.

"Two things: can I crash at your place tonight and what kind of phone do you have?" she asked.

"Yes and a Galaxy something, I dunno, but what the fresh hell are you talking about?"

"I'll explain when I get there. I’m on my way to CVS for some essentials. Do you need anything?"

"Sounds like we need wine and ice cream!"

"Already on the list." She thanked Heather and hung up, calling her landlord.

“This’s Sam.” She heard over the receiver.

“Sam, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a situation at the house.”

“What’s goin’ on?” He asked concerned. She’d never rented from anyone so kind. He’d become almost family. Like an uncle.

“Long story short, pest control. I’m kicking Elliott out and he has until the time I get home from work tomorrow. I told him you’d be there with the cops if he didn’t comply because he’s not on the lease. Is there any way you can help me and make that good?”

“He hurt ya, Shane?”

“Not, umm…not physically.” Although she had been rubbing the place on her arm where he’d grabbed her, certain there would be a bruise.

“That’s all I need to know. I’ve got a buddy or two on the squad here in town. I’m sure they won’t mind to help me out. You need anything?”

She held back the tears until she could hang up. “I’m staying over at a friend’s tonight and headed into CVS now for a few things I didn’t take time to grab after I kneed him in the groin and ran out.” She had just pulled into the parking lot.

“Well I’m nearby if you need anything when you’re back home.”

“Thanks. I guess just watch for smoke from the place for now. I don’t know what he might do, honestly.”

Up Next: Prologue: Onset of Injury (Sy)

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.13]

Chapter:  Cassiopeia

Summary: Bucky and Y/n spill the beans to their friends about their not-date and, Ori asks her for a very special book.

Warnings:  Usual Astrophile fluff with a pinch of… angst? I don’t know. I don’t consider it angst.

A/N:   The bracelet mentioned is found on Pinterest. Link here.  Send me love because I’m needy, okay?? 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Bucky hasn’t woken up late after spending all night on the phone with a girl since he was in high school but here he is, rushing around because he slept through his alarm after staying up till three in the morning talking to Y/n. She’s good at doing that to him, making him forget everything but her and Ori. Every time he’s around her his brain goes foggy and it’s getting harder and harder to remember a time before her. Bucky grins to himself thinking about her sleepy voice early this morning as he cuts Ori’s peanut butter and jelly into a star.

“Y/n, we should probably hang up. You’re drifting off, babydoll.” 

“I d-don’t need sleep. I’m fine. Did I tell you that Cassiopeia is my favorite constellation?” her voice slurred from sleep that’s calling her, her eyes closed and barely able to hold her phone up. 

Bucky chuckled as he watched her breathing start to even out through the small screen on his phone, “Yeah, you did. Go to bed, Beck. I’ll call you after my shift.” 

“Pinky promise?” She whispered, eyes remained closed but she was smiling.

“Pinky promise, sweetheart.”  

Bucky’s never been what he would consider lucky. Yeah, he’s had a few wins over the years. Some big and some small. His most significant being his baby girl and he wouldn’t trade Ori for all the good fortune in the world but, he’s never been one of those guys that simply fell into the good stuff. He’s never stumbled into a new job because he was in the right place at the right time or happened to work with the love of his life. Bucky’s never been the guy that won the big-ticket raffle. He’s never had started with a straight flush in his hands on poker night. 

Then Y/n walked into his life with stardust sprinkled book pages, lemon pancakes and a heart that could start a raging fire if he let it. Something changed in his destiny the day he met her. It was a soft, simple sort of change. One you miss if you blink too many times. It wasn’t some big moment that led them here. She didn’t do anything that could be written in the lines of a song or played on screen for thousands to see. Their late-night talks would never be recited by others in sweetheart whispers, but he would take their story over any sonnet or ballad. 

It’s funny how it all happened. Bucky is the same man he was when they met, but there’s something about having her fingers weaved in his that makes him feel like he can be a better man; for her and Ori. It was a simple fall. So simple, he never noticed she was taking little pieces of him every time she said his name, every time she read to Ori or made his girl smile. It was just books and giggles and pancakes, and then, it wasn’t. In the blink of an eye, every laugh made him lighter, every phone call took another piece of his heart, and every touch changed the way he pictured his future. 

Bucky never planned to fall for her. He had no plans to fall in love and never thought luck would be on his side when he did, but his heart left his chest months ago without notice, and it’s been resting comfortably next to hers. 

And he never wants it back. 

Ori skips into the kitchen bringing Bucky back to the frenzied reality of his morning. His daydreams were much more beautiful to live in, but they are late, and if he doesn’t hurry along, he will never get to work. Ori climbs up onto her designated stool. Even she could tell they are late. Super, duper late as Y/n would say. Y/n doesn’t spend the mornings with them (with a birthday exception), but if she did, that’s what she would call their morning. 

She sends Bucky a quick ‘morning daddy,’ and grabs her fork, but her smile slowly fades as she looks down at her plate. This isn’t her usual breakfast. Ori knew something was off when she woke up this morning, but this? This is… this is… totally awful! 

“Eggs, daddy? They are bad luck!“    

Bucky groans and looks at the near-empty pancake container. He forgot about that, eggs always mean a bad day. His eyes travel to the clock above the stove, he just doesn’t have the time today. They are already an hour behind, and that meant he had to check Ori into the front office, making him even later for his shift. He walks over to his scowling daughter and presses a kiss to her forehead in an attempt to soothe the angry wrinkles set there.

"Comet, baby, they are just eggs. I need you to eat, yeah? I’m running really behind today, but I promise I’ll pick up stuff for pancakes after my shift." 

Ori sinks down in her seat and pushes the eggs around her plate. "Okay, but today is gonna be a bad day,” she grumbles sourly.

---------

What was it about working in an Elementary school front office that made people so grumpy and forgetful? Bucky has been in that front office over twenty times since Ori started Pre-K, and the lady at the front desk still acted like she didn’t remember him. He’s had to introduce himself to her every single time he comes into the front off. How many little girls are named Orion in that school that she can’t remember his name? 

Thanks to Ms.Forgetful, he was an extra twenty minutes late, and Steve gave him the look. Bucky hates that look. As if Steve has never been late before? Bucky recalls a time when he was strolling in late nearly every day with a dumb grin on his face and a smirking Sam following close behind. 

At least it turned out to be a slow day, and nothing was burning down. 

“Hey, so, uh,” Bucky stammers, propping his feet up on the chair in front of him and tosses his piece of bread onto his plate. “Can you guys keep Ori this Thursday? I’d ask Nat but thought you two could use the practice." 

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn’t take the bait the same way Sam would. 

"I don’t think watching my Five-year-old niece will be practice for when we adopt a baby boy, but you should know that you don’t have to ask. We love having Ori over." 

"Why we gotta watch her?” Sam asks, a sneer on his face as he nudged the brunette's boots with his own from across the table. 

“Sam…” Steve sighs heavily. 

“I’m just askin’ is all! You got a date or just need a night off?" 

Bucky’s gaze flicks back and forth between the two men, and he finally deflates with a massive sigh. He may as well confess and let them get it out of their systems now. It would be less embarrassing that way. 

"I asked Y/n to come over, and I’m cooking her dinner. It’s not a big deal so let’s not make it a big deal,” He adds the last bit as his eyes land on Sam. 

"No big deal?” Sam screeches as he flies out of his chair towards Bucky. “This is huge, man! It’s taken you long enough to ask her out on a date. You’ve been talking for what six months now?" 

"Three and a half,” Bucky is quick to correct. 

Sam’s grin widens because of course, Bucky knows precisely how long they have been talking. Sam wouldn’t doubt he has it down to the minute. “Yeah. Right. Three and a half months. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives waiting for you to get a damn clue, but you finally got your head on straight and told her how you feel!” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his chair making Sam’s grin fall, “Oh, for Christ–” Sam groans with a shake of his head. “You didn’t tell her how you feel did you?”

"There’s nothing to say. I don’t– we are still –” Bucky blows out a breath and sits up bolt straight. “It’s not a date, okay? I didn’t say the word date when I asked her to come over. She probably doesn’t even think it’s a date. We have done movie night plenty of times before and it's never been a date.”

"What did you say?” Steve prods before Sam has a chance to speak up. Bucky gives a slight shrug and meets his eye over the table, “I asked if she wanted to come over to watch a movie. I told her I could make dinner and that it would be just the two of us." 

"That’s a date!” Sam shouts excitedly.  

Steve dips his head to the side and smiles, “Sorry, Buck. I have to agree with my better half on this one. Sounds like you asked her on a date."  

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but their zone lit up a call, and there was no time to yell at his dumb friends, they had work to handle. Even if they didn’t, Bucky had no idea what he was going to say because hell if his heart wasn’t praying it was a date. 

------- 

"Hey, there, librarian.”

Y/n wrinkles her nose at the nickname as Natasha walks into her office. She hasn’t seen Natasha since Ori’s birthday party. A twinge of guilt creeps up her chest because Natasha no doubt knows Y/n and Tony broke up, and she didn’t hear it from Y/n. Not that she has to tell Natasha everything. Still made her feel guilty. She slowly sits up and peeks out the large window in her office to find a head of bouncing curls bobbing through the children’s section. 

Good. That would give the adults a minute to talk.

"I’m not a librarian. I own a bookstore. There is a difference." 

"Is there?” Natasha asks and leans against the edge of her desk, chuckling at the look of annoyance on her friend’s face and the serious tone in her voice when she replies, “Yes, I don’t have a degree in library sciences, and I don’t work in a library. I sell books– you’re teasing me, aren’t you?" 

"A little bit,” Nat confesses. “So, what’s new with you? Skip the Tony part. I heard that news from a chatty blonde and his husband.”  

"Um, well…” Y/n’s eyes dart back out to the main floor. She wants to make sure Ori is not within earshot when they speak about a certain new development. “I think Bucky asked me out on a date but now that I’ve had time to think about it I feel like it’s unlikely it’s actually a date.” 

Natasha snorts and crosses her arms over her chest, "It’s very likely it’s a date, but why do you say that?" 

"It’s a movie at his place, and he offered to cook, and Ori is spending the night at Steve’s. I don’t know. It’s probably just a friend thing. How many times have we done a movie night since we met and it was never anything more?" 

Natasha is quick to refute every flimsy reason she just put forth, "How many times did he cook you dinner on these movie nights and when has Ori not been at the house?" 

"Never,” Y/n squeaks. 

“It’s a date,” Natasha confirms with a smug grin as she hops up onto Y/n’s desk. She spots something interesting resting on the corner by the picture Ori drew for her. She leans over and grabs before Y/n can stash it away. It’s two bracelets, thin black leather cord with a small silver star in the middle attached to brown paper.

It’s one of those wishing bracelets. They have a special saying and usually made with a certain person in mind. Mother, sister, boyfriend or best friend. This sounds very much like something Y/n would pick out for a certain dark-haired, blue eyed single dad.   She reads the label and her grin widens.  

Pinky Promise. I promise to wear this, so I never forget how lucky I am to have you. Close your eyes and make a wish, tie this bracelet to your wrist. When the bracelet falls off the wish you made will come true. 

“Did Bucky give this to you?” 

Y/n leans back in her chair and shakes her head, quietly admitting where those actually came from, “Um, not exactly. I bought that. As a gift. For Bucky. I thought – Well, we say pinky promise to each other. Did you know that? Anyway, we do, and when I saw it, I thought of him. It’s kind of our thing, and well, it had a star. I doubt he’s going to wear it, but yeah, it’s for him.”

Natasha hands it back over to Y/n who clutches it to her chest. 

It’s cute, and Bucky would definitely wear it for you. It’s pretty clear he would do just about anything for you.” Y/n tightens her hand around the bracelets and ducks her head to hide her smile from Natasha, but the red-head caught it. 

She will let it go this once.

“Y/n?” Ori asks from the doorway, nervously tugging at her braids. “I can’t find a book I want.” 

Y/n chuckles and slowly stands up not before putting her trinkets back in their rightful place by Ori’s drawing. She holds her hand out to take the little girl’s and follows her out onto the main floor. 

“What are you looking for?” Y/n ponders aloud, trying to mask the confusion in her voice as Ori leads her away from the children’s books. 

"A book about love?" 

Y/n grins and drops to her knees in front of Ori pulling the little girl to a stop, "Why? Are you in love, my starlight?" 

Ori doesn’t smile like she usually would, she simply shakes her head and whispers,  "It’s for daddy. He needs help. He’s good at loving me, but I don’t think he knows how to say when he’s in love.” 

It felt like someone had reached into Y/n’s chest and ripped her heart out. Bucky is in love with someone else? She can’t breathe. He’s been dating someone this entire time, and she didn’t even know. She was right all along Thursday night isn’t a date and Natasha is wrong; for once in her life. 

But why did it have to be this she was wrong about?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Ori whispers watching her carefully. 

She focuses back on Ori and forces a smile the young girl would believe, “Yeah, starlight. I’m okay. Um, I’m not sure I have any books like that here, but I will keep an eye out and maybe order some, okay?” 

Ori nods and wraps her arms around her neck in a tight hug, “I hope so. We can’t wait forever, right?” 

Y/n swallows the lump in her throat and wraps her arms around Ori, giving her the biggest squeeze she can muster while her heart is breaking in her chest. 

“Right, starlight. We don’t wanna wait forever.” 

--------

The call wasn’t anything too serious. A car accident and only one of the drivers were hurt. There were small cuts, a few scrapes, and bruises, but everyone made it out okay. No jaws of life needed, and everyone is making it home to their loved ones tonight. All in all, it was a good call in Bucky’s book. It did push Bucky thirty minutes past the end of his shift though. Apparently being late is the theme of the day. Now he’s scrambling to get his gear put up, and get his bag together. He’s itching to see his bright-eyed comet, and he might have a call or two to make. 

"There a reason you’re trying to rush out of here?” Sam teases with a soft chuckle. “Got a pretty girl waiting for you or something.”

Bucky wants to be mad. He really does. He wants to tell Sam to fuck off because he doesn’t know what he is talking about. Things between him and Y/n aren’t like that, and he can shut his mouth, but Bucky can’t. He can’t bring himself to feel anything close to that thanks to the way his heart is beating, frantic and heavy. It’s about ready to crack his ribs with the way it’s thumping against his chest. All he can do is grin because, yeah, he’s got a pretty girl with a kind heart waiting for him to call and Bucky’s never wanted to see her face as badly as he does right now. 

His phone chimes. A message from Y/n, as if she knows he’s slowly fading away from the distress of not seeing her since last night; he misses her that much. 

But the message is not what he expects. 

[Beck]: Hey, I can’t make this Thursday. Something came up.  I’m really, really sorry. Maybe we can reschedule? 

Bucky’s heart slows as he reads the words over again. One more time just to make sure he’s reading it right. His world darkens; suddenly lemon seems too sour, the stars have dulled and those starry book pages are too tattered to read. He tosses his phone in his bag and slams his locker shut, silencing the soft murmurs stirring around him. 

 “Don’t worry about Thursday, Sam. Something came up.” 

Sam watches Bucky stalk to his car and looks back at Steve. He’s never seen that look on Bucky’s face before, absolute disappointment and it stung all of them.

 Bucky should have known better than to think– None of it mattered anyway. It wasn’t a date. It was a chance to see if she really felt something more, but if she realized she didn’t, it was better Thursday night didn’t happen. Besides, they are just friends and friends cancel sometimes. He isn’t mad at her. He could never be mad at her. Just… disappointed he wouldn’t get to spend the night with her. It’s no big deal though. Something could have come up. She doesn’t tell him everything. 

They are friends. Just… friends. 

After all, Bucky has never been one to just fall into the good stuff. 

Previous // Next 

[prettyboy-parker]

undefined

starker abo: homecoming

warnings: emotional and physical abuse (nothing explicit!), smut at the end, implied thorki, mentioned sambucky

words: 3.7k

“Jesus, he’s such a fuckin’ crybaby. I feel bad for Quentin.”

Everyone turns to look at the table across the cafeteria. Peter Parker, the world’s snootiest omega, is perched on top of the navy lunch table and bawling his eyes out. Loki, a lithe snarky omega, is patting under Peter’s eyes with tissues. His usual posse huddles around him, cooing at and petting him.

“I don’t. His performance in bed probably outweighs his attitude, if you catch my drift.” Sam snickers and Bucky punches him in the arm. The alpha lets out a whine and rubs at his shoulder. “Hey! What was that for?” He snaps at his boyfriend. Bucky just narrows his eyes. Tony finds himself looking at Peter again. He seems to have calmed down a little. His friends usher him out of the cafeteria, no doubt to help him fix his makeup. Tony could gag at how fucking prissy the omega is.

“You okay, Tony? You look a little pale.” Steve says, and Tony can’t believe he’s actually concerned.

“Jeez, Steve, I’m fine. Your motherly instincts take over?”

The table howls with laughter.

“Good one, Stark!” Thor booms and Steve rolls his eyes. Tony sends a wink at Steve, a group of girls heading towards their table emerging in the corner of his eye.

“Steven,” Peggy, the beta exchange student from England, pipes up. A few of her friends giggle behind her. “Would you come with me? I have to talk to you.”

Steve nods wordlessly, trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

“He’s smitten, I tell ya’.” Bucky slurs, tossing a crumpled napkin at Sam.

“Idiot. I’ve got to piss, see you in Calc.”

Sam groans and Rhodey shouts “TMI!” Tony passes a table of girls on his way out, and they all call his name. He shoots them a wink, opening the double doors to the hallway. It’s actually quiet in the hallway, aside from his combat boots thunking on the linoleum floors. He fishes through his leather jacket’s pocket, looking for his cigs, when-

“Watch where you’re fucking going!”

Tony stumbles back as he knocks into, well, none other than Peter Parker. He looks like he’s going to cry again as Loki lifts him off of the floor. The tan-skinned beta flips him a bird as they walk away.

Great.

✨👑✨

He can’t believe Quent would ever say that to him. For one, he’s not a slut. He’d never cheat on Quentin, he knows that, so why did he say it? Two, Quentin’s lucky no one was around to see Peter’s tears.

What he can’t get over is how Quentin touched him like that.

He’s heard of alphas hitting their omegas, but it’s always been an old wive’s tale, or whatever. He guesses that Quentin’s just stressed. He didn’t do so hot on his Pre-Calc test, so maybe he has some pent up anger.

Peter needs to send him some flowers.

By the time he gets back to his apartment, he’s already tried calling Quentin three times to apologize, but the alpha never picked up. He drops his Vera Bradley book bag on the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Peter! How was school?” Uncle Ben asks from where he’s seated at the kitchen island.

Peter breaks down into tears.

Uncle Ben takes him in his arms, holding him close. That’s the thing about his uncle, whenever he’s upset he just lets Peter cry it out, never asking for an explanation. Peter appreciates when his aunt gives him advice, he really does, but sometimes it’s nicer just to be held.

“I’ve got Halotop ice cream that’s calling your name.”

Peter giggles softly as Uncle Ben ruffles his hair.

Soon enough he’s cuddled under his silk sheets, a carton of peanut butter cup ice cream in his hands. In the midst of watching Cady and Janis mix together foot cream, his phone rings.  “Quentin 💕💕” lights up on the screen over a very flattering picture of his boyfriend.

“Hi,” Peter answers quietly.

“Hi honey, I just-um-wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“It’s okay Quent, I was a bitch too. I’m sorry.” Peter responds quietly, stabbing his ice cream with his spoon.

“You kind of were. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?”

“Bye, love you.”

“Bye.”

Peter hangs up the phone, feeling emptier than before.

✨👑✨

“Anthony, you are not wearing that.”

Tony smirks and adjusts the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t worry, dad. I know Peter. It’s all good.” He replies, running a hand through his hand. Howard clenches his jaw.

“Come on, boys. We don’t want to be late.” His mother calls, ushering the two to the car. Howard still looks pissed as he climbs into the driver's seat, Tony scrolling through Instagram as they drive to the Parker’s. A picture of Peter appears, the omega posing on the hood of a cherry red ‘65 Thunderbird. His long, milky legs are displayed by his tiny red running shorts. A sliver of his toned stomach is exposed by his cream Coca Cola crop top. His almond hair looks like it’s blowing in the wind. Red heart-shaped glasses frame his face perfectly. The caption reads “Taste the Feeling! ♥️♥️”.

A small part of Tony wants to taste him.

He ignores that part.

“Now you behave, Anthony. This deal is important, we’re paying Benjamin a lot of money for his program.” Howard reminds him.

“Yeah yeah,” Tony replies, rolling his eyes and itching for a smoke. They pull up to one of the apartment complexes in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Tony begrudgingly follows his parents, the elevator operator nervously pressing the buttons.  The elevator brings them directly to Peter’s penthouse because of course, the Parkers have a penthouse.

“Oh, hello!” A voice exclaims from the kitchen. He stands awkwardly until Mrs. Parker emerges from the other room. “Welcome, all of you!” She exclaims, giving his mom a hug.

“Oh, Anthony, I remember when you were just a baby. Your mother came to me for a dress for a gala, and she brought you along. You’ve grown into such a handsome alpha.”

Tony flushes, embarrassed. His mom laughs loudly and pinches his cheeks.

“Peter should be down soon, he always takes forever to get ready.” Mrs. Parker complains, pushing her glasses farther up her nose. “Benjamin is picking some whiskey from the cellar. Why don’t you come sit down?”

Mrs. Parker leads them to the living room, where the couches are covered with blankets and the fireplace roars. Tony sinks into the knitted blanket, sighing heavily.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry I’m late!”

Peter Parker is at the top of the steps, in a tight, glittery maroon dress, looking like an absolute vision.

“Come down, Pete.” His aunt calls with a smile. The omega’s heels click on the hardwood staircase as he comes downstairs. He’s prettier up close, a silver glittery barrette holding his curls out of his face. Gold glitter is swept over his cheeks and eyelids.

“Anthony,” He says, scrunching up his button nose. Tony winks at him. The only empty seat is next to the alpha, so Peter daintily sits down on the couch. He smells divine, like expensive floral perfume mixed with the sweet scent of omega.

“You can call me Tony, you know.” The alpha purrs under the voices of his parents and Mrs. Parker. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Dully noted.” He snaps back, but Tony just laughs.

Dinner goes on slowly and Tony keeps his mouth shut. Peter’s definitely checking him out (or maybe that’s just Tony’s ego.) During the meal of lamb and beef, Tony notices a bruise blooming under the hem of his dress.

The omega gives him a glare and adjusts his collar.

✨👑✨

“Did you hear? We’re being assigned partners this time.”

“Ugh, gag,” Peter grumbles, tapping his pink pen on his pink notebook.

“I know,” Loki responds, eyes glancing to the back of the room. “I hope I get paired up with Thor, though.”

Peter smiles and picks at his cuticle.

“He better ask you to homecoming. I’m blackmailing him if he doesn’t by Friday.” He says nonchalantly, eyeing the burly blonde in the back of the room. He’s laughing about something with Anthony.

“Peter. I’ll beat you to it, you know that.” Loki jokes. Peter nudges him in the shoulder of his dark green sweater. The class quiets down when Ms. Hill steps into the room.

“Good afternoon, everyone. As you may have heard from the other classes, we’re starting our quarter project.” She announces. “I’ll be assigning you into partners, and you’ll be researching the impact and achievements of a Chinese dynasty.”  

The glass groans, a few pairs of eyes flicking around nervously.

“Calm down. It’s senior year, you should all know each other by now. I’ve already have your partners, so listen up...”

Peter studies his French manicure as Ms. Hill calls out their names. He gives Loki a wink when the teacher pairs Thor with him for the Tang Dynasty. It’s getting to the end of the list, and Peter’s worried that Ms. Hill might have forgotten him, then-

“Tony and Peter. Song Dynasty.”

The omega dies a little inside.

“Alright, get to work! Rubrics are on my desk, get brainstorming!”

The class disperses into a flurry of noise and movement. Tony slowly stalks over to him like the douchebag he is.

“How about you get the rubric?” Peter suggests, but it’s more of an order than anything. Tony smirks and places his pencil on the desk next to Peter.

“Anything for you, princess.” He teases, causing the omega to flush a bright red. Peter doodles in his notebook until Tony gets back with two rubrics.

“Song Dynasty. I’m fuckin’ pumped.”

This actually makes Peter giggle a little bit.

“Calm down, Anthony.” He quips back, a small smile on his face.

It turns out the two work together pretty well.

Tony’s definitely not a slacker, and had avid ideas that Peter wrote down. They settled on a comedy-style presentation. (Which Peter would neverdo, but who can say no to Tony’s puppy dog eyes?)

When the bell rings, Tony walks him to his next class, like a...gentleman.

Who knew?

✨👑✨

“Good morning Midtown! I’m Peter Parker, your SGA President.”

Tony turns his attention to the T.V in the hallway. Peter sits at the newscaster desk, in a navy and white tennis polo, a matching headband pushing back his curls, and two big pearls adorning his ears. Tony could purr, but he pinches himself. There’s no way he can be falling for Peter Parker.

No way.

The entire hallway goes silent, in awe of their queen on the screen.

“A quick reminder-next week is spirit week! The days are posted on our Instagram and around the school. Don’t forget to buy your homecoming tickets. They’re being sold all week in the cafeteria. Thanks, and have a wonderful day!”

Everyone resumes their conversation.

Tony slams his locker shut.

✨👑✨

“Oh god, you are not making me ride that.”

Tony laughs loudly and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Peter stands with his arms crossed over his baby blue Chanel sweater. His pink lips are turned down into a frown, button nose scrunched like it always is.

“I am. Unless you want to walk?” Tony coos, handing his helmet to the omega. His honey eyes glance down at the black helmet, then back up to Tony.

“You’ll keep me safe?” Peter asks quietly, his bitchy facade dropping. Tony’s eyes widen.

“Oh, of course, Pete. I’d never let anything happen to you.” The alpha responds, genuine care in his voice.

“Well, then let’s go, slowpoke.” Peter huffs, placing the ill-fitting helmet on top of his curls. Tony chuckles and straddles the bike, waiting as Peter slowly wraps his arms around his torso, resting his cheek on his back.

“Hold on!” Tony calls as he starts the bike, causing the tiny omega to yelp. They leave school, weaving through the cars and students. Peter shouts directions to his house in Tony’s ear, the alpha smiling as the wind whips behind him. They eventually arrive at Peter’s apartment complex, parking his motorcycle in the garage for the occupants.

“That sucked,” Peter grumbles, but-Tony sniffs the air.

Peter’s turned on.

He’s about to crack a joke, but stops himself. Peter looks at the ground, embarrassed.

“Sorry. Didn’t bring my car.”

Peter tries to hide his smile.

The omega brings him up to his penthouse, heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“Do you want anything, Tony? I’ve got...quite a lot.” Peter asks, grabbing some wheat crackers and spread from the fridge. Tony shucks off his leather jacket, placing it over the back of the chair. He runs his hand over the cool marble counter.

“I’m good, but thank you.” He responds, pulling his notebook out of his bag. Peter shrugs, grabbing his book bag.

“Suit yourself. Let’s go upstairs, my aunt will be home soon.” He tells Tony, not sparing him a second glance before heading to the staircase. The alpha rushes behind him, narrowly avoiding an expensive looking vase. They turn right down the hallway, pictures of Peter at all stages of his life on the walls. One catches Tony’s eyes, a little baby Peter with a big blue bow on his head, smiling as he plays in a pile of leaves.

“Please don’t touch anything, Anthony.” Peter sniffs when they reach his room, pink exploding in Tony’s vision. His room is huge, perfectly cleaned and organized. There are pictures everywhere, Peter smiling with his friends. A king-sized canopy bed sits in the middle of the room, expensive silk pillows arranged with care. Peter plops himself on the ground, spreading out his papers.

”Your room is...nice.” Tony comments, sitting on the ground next to Peter. He's still overwhelmed by the omegan aroma filling the room.

”Thank you.” Peter says softly, clearly pleased.

”Should we get started? I had some ideas about how we should present the civil service exam.”

They get a big chunk of their work done but end up talking about everything butthe Song Dynasty. Peter’s actually really fucking smart, wanting to study biological engineering in college. He's down to earth and an absolute sweetheart when he's not surrounded by the student body.

And he's really fucking pretty.

”I know! Fury is such a hardass!” Peter exclaims through giggles, tears coming out of his big doe eyes. His curls are a mess, splayed underneath his head.

Tony isn’t thinking when he reaches over and thumbs away Peter’s happy tears.

The omega blinks in surprise, but-

sucks Tony’s thumb into his mouth.

Tony growls loudly, removing his thumb from Peter’s mouth with a pop, leaning down, and pressing his lips to the other’s. The omega is everything Tony thought he would be. Sweet like sugar, with the remnants of the crackers on his tongue. He hums happily as Tony picks him up, pulling the smaller into his lap.

“Tony-“

“I fucking like you, Parker.”

“Tony,” Peter whispers as the alpha lightly drags his fingers over his bare thighs. “Tony, I have a boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be your boyfriend, Peter.” Tony says, almost frantically. “He-He fucking hurts you.”

Peter flinches at his word choice.

“He doesn’t. It’s none of your business.” The omega breathes, avoiding Tony’s gaze.

“Peter, please tell someone. Or break up with him, I don’t care.” The alpha pleads, taking Peter’s hands in his. The omega rips them away.

“He loves me. Please drop it.”

Tony bites his tongue.

✨👑✨

“Loki, your bow is crooked.”

Loki rolls his eyes and spins around.

“Then fix it, Peter.”

Peter laughs and straightens the blue bow that holds his black, silky hair out of his face. It’s Class Colors Friday, the seniors getting their rightful color of blue. Harley takes a bite of his sandwich, looking over Peter’s shoulder.

“Uh, Pete? Quentin’s coming over here, and he looks mad.”

Peter turns around, seeing his boyfriend heading towards him with a scowl on his face. Peter pretends to light up, giving him a small wave. Before he can greet the alpha, he’s grabbing Peter by his cheerleading jacket.

“You fucking slut,” He growls, blue eyes narrowed. “You sleeping around with Stark now?”

Peter whimpers as his breathing picks up.

“Quent, you’re making a scene.” He whispers, tugging at the alpha’s sleeve gently. Quentin grins menacingly.

“Am I, now?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “That’s high praise coming from a drama queen like yourself. Have fun finding another homecoming date.”

With that, Quentin pushes him back, and storms out of the cafeteria. Peter follows him, ignoring the shouts from his friends.

“Quentin, baby, wait!” The omega calls out once they get into the hallway, causing the alpha to spin around.

“Is it true? You made out with Stark?”

Peter’s bottom lip quivers as he stays silent. Quentin sighs exasperatedly, clenching his fists tightly.

“You deserve everything I did to you, Peter. And I hope you fucking know it.”

Peter doesn’t see his, well, ex-boyfriend, leave through his tears. He shuffles off to the omega restroom, trying to keep his mascara from running. He sifts through his purse for his little packet of tissues, dabbing at his eyes frantically. The door swings open, and Peter expects Loki and Harley, but the smell of smoke and musky alpha fills the room.

“Shit, Peter, I’m so fucking sorry,” Tony says quickly. Peter just whimpers and cuddles into the alpha’s torso.

“You were right,” He cries, breathing in deep breaths of Tony’s scent. The other boy strokes his curls, shushing him. “And now I don’t have a homecoming date, and all my friends do, and senior year is just going to suck.”

Tony sighs deeply from above him.

“I can go with you, if you want.”

Peter looks up into Tony’s deep brown eyes.

“Are you asking me out, Anthony?” He teases, poking the alpha’s cheek. His eyes widen in surprised.

“No! Not at all. I’m just saying, if you wanted to, I’d be willing to go with you.”

Peter laughs and kisses him.

✨👑✨

Tony’s so fucking nervous.

His hands shake as he grips the stupid plastic corsage box in one, ringing the doorbell with the other.

Mrs. Parker opens the door.

“Tony. Come on in. Peter will be down in a second.” She says with a glint in her eyes. Tony follows her into the apartment, perfectly clean, like always.

“Let me see,” Mrs. Parker smiles, leaning over to look at the corsage in the box. “He’ll love it.”

Speaking of him-

Peter Parker appears at the top of the steps.

Tony’s mouth parts subconsciously. Peter looks-Peter looks stunning. His dress is a cherry red that matches his lipstick, all lace and off the shoulder. He walks down slowly, smoothing the skirt of his dress.

“Peter, oh my god, you look beautiful.” Tony sputters as Peter gives him a peck on the cheek.

“And you look handsome,” The omega responds, thin fingers adjusting Tony’s tie. “You bought a corsage!”

Tony laughs, opening the box and picking up the white rose. He adjusts it on Peter’s wrist as the other boy pins a white boutonniere to Tony’s lapel.

“Perfect,” He coos, pressing another kiss to Tony’s jaw.

Mrs. Parker gives him a quick, threatening talk as Peter uses the bathroom. Peter fake swoons when Tony opens the passenger door to his Audi.

They’re the perfect pair.

They take pictures and dance and kiss and it’s everything Tony could ever dream of. Peter wins homecoming queen, as he should. He looks divine on stage, sparkling tiara on his curls and smiling wide.

“Alpha,” Peter whines, 30 minutes before the dance ends, making Tony’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, baby?” Tony responds, grinding his hips forward against Peter’s ass, a quiet ‘oof’ falling from his lips.

“Can-Can we go back to your place? If your parents aren’t home-“

“Fuck yes.”

The car is thick with the scent of arousal, the mixing of their pheromones making Tony crazy. They’re on top of each other once they make it inside.

“Tony, where’s your room?” Peter moans as Tony nibbles on his neck. The alpha doesn’t respond, instead lifts the smaller into his arms. Tony rushes upstairs, making sure he doesn’t drop Peter. They collapse onto the bed, Tony pressing his lips to Peter’s. He tastes delicious, as always, and Tony can’t help but moan. He pulls off of Peter, shucking off his suit jacket as Peter stands up.

“Alpha, can you help undo my dress?”

That phrase sends a jolt of arousal to Tony’s dick.

He obeys, thick fingers tugging the silver zipper down. Peter steps out of the dress, his freckled back on full display, as well as his delectable ass that’s barely covered by white panties. In awe, Tony runs his fingers over the pale stretch marks littering his flesh.

“Is that- are they too gross? Quentin always said t-they were ugly.”

Tony’s speechless.

“No, no, baby,” He coos, spinning Peter around so he can see his face. His doe eyes shine with oncoming tears. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that? You’re the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

Peter giggles shyly, flushed.

“Fuck Quentin. He’s a pussy, not a real alpha. He never deserved you. You’re perfect, my little omega.”

They make love.

There’s nothing else to call it-not fucking, not sex. Peter rides him for everything he’s worth, tiny cock leaking against his stomach as his thick thighs straddle Tony’s. The tiara stays on, his curls becoming damp with sweat. Tony doesn’t last long, he pops his knot too early, but he doesn’t mind, since Peter is right behind him.

“Tony?” The omega whispers after Tony slipped out of him and cleaned them up.

“Yeah?” The alpha responds, breath hitting the back of Peter’s neck.

“I fucking like you, Stark.”

Tony laughs, pulls Peter closer under the covers, and kisses him.

[waywardmoeyy]

Gotta Start Somewhere

Jack Kline x Reader

Word Count: 2,421

Warnings: mention of blood/injury, mention of needles and sutures, fluff.

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written something and I’m still getting back in the groove. But, here’s this.

Wayward Moeyy’s Master List

You gently scrubbed the dark wooden table in front of you, letting out a deep sigh. Finally, no one was in your home. It had been a revolving door over the last several months, with hunters coming and going as spooky things rolled into town.

One group of hunters who had all but moved into your place for nearly three months finally were on their way back home too. Not that you didn’t adore the Winchesters and their sassy angel friend, but you could only take so much of the craziness they left in their wake.

Although, their newest friend was very polite, even helpful when it came to small things around your little cabin safe-house. Jack. Yes, sweet Jack. Half-angel, Son of Satan, adorably handsome, and a master of getting even the toughest smears off of your windows.

The only reason you knew that was because the poor lad was always left behind when Dean, Sam, and Cas left to fight whatever bad guy was out there. So, naturally, you put him to work. Of course, when the other men returned, the place was a mess in a matter of minutes.

But now, the place was quiet and clean. Sam and Dean had left earlier that day on their way back to the bunker, while Cas and Jack checked out a small case in town.

You smiled as you threw the filthy rag into your small washing machine and sighed. Sure, you loved helping anyone who came though, most of them being your long-time friends. But, it was also nice to have absolutely nothing to take care of but yourself and your dog, Miko.

You jumped as someone knocked on the door, causing Miko to bark. Who the hell was that?You weren’t expecting anyone as far as you knew. The visitor knocked again. Hmm. You approached the door and softly rested your ear against the cool wood. All you could hear was shuffling, followed by a distressed hiss.

“Who is it?” you inquired firmly.

“Y/N? It’s Jack.” He hissed again, sounding painful. “May I come in?” It sounded like his voice, but why the hell was he alone? Cas should have been with him, at least according to Dean’s plan from this morning.

“If it isn’t Jack, I’m going to make you wish you weren’t on my doorstep. You hear me?” you threatened. Something was definitely off.

“It’s me,” Jack answered with a quiver. You sucked in a deep breath, then swung the door open. Jack’s soft, blue gaze stared back at you with a pained smile. He was holding his right hand against his shirt, which was spotted with blood. His lower lip was cut on the side, and there was a smear of blood on his cheek.

“Oh my god, Jack.” Your eyes widened as you quickly ushered him in. Your stomach sank at the amount of blood on his white shirt. “What the hell happened?” Jack released his hand and held it in front of him.

“Cas and I went to check out a possible werewolf.” He sat in one of the chairs at your newly cleaned table.

“And—Wait a second.” You peered out your window, then back at Jack. “Where’s Cas?”

“He went after the werewolf. I’m not bitten, just cut up.” Jack wiggled his fingers and winced. The top of his hand had a long, but mostly superficial gash. It would heal on its own with a few stitches.

“And he dropped you off on the way?” Your tone was a mixture of sarcastic and irritated. “And now you’re my problem?”

Jack lowered his head. “I wanted to go with Cas, but he said no. I’m not supposed to use what’s left of my grace to heal myself.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad. I’m just—I don’t understand why they treat you like you’re made of glass.” Jack swallowed as he watched you reach into a cabinet and retrieve your medical kit. “They leave you behind most of the time. And, when they do take you along with them, they return you after one scratch.” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s because I’m basically human now—”

“So are they! Sam and Dean are both completelyhuman, and so am I. That doesn’t mean anything. They’re just too lazy to train you properly.” You rolled your eyes again as you set up what you needed to mend Jack’s hand. “Don’t let them treat you like a toddler, Jack. You’re brilliant, and you are so eager to learn.” You pulled his hand over the small cloth you had laid over the table. You gently smoothed your fingers over his in an attempt to sooth him. “Listen, if they don’t want to help you become a well-trained hunter, then I will.” You glanced up at him while grabbing the bottle of rubbing alcohol. “This is going to hurt, love.”

Jack winced and gasped as you cleaned his wound. “You—ow—you’d do that?” You nodded.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re about as intellectually mature as I am, and probably half as stubborn. I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly.” You very gently dabbed the blood off his hand and face. “We can prove the brothers wrong.” You captured his gaze as you smoothed the rag over his cheek. He had gorgeous eyes, and the sweetest smile. Honestly, everything about him was almost calming. It was refreshing to have someone with such a happy energy around you compared to the rough and tumble hunters you were usually surrounded by.

Jack pursed his lips, then smiled. “Sam thinks it would be a good idea to train me better, but Dean seems to be more in charge.” Jack lowered his head a little more. “Cas exposes me to what he can, but I don’t really know what I’m doing. Reading about how to handle something is so much different than actually doing it.” You nodded. He was really smart, and he knew he had boundaries like everyone else. Dean, as aware and calculating as that infuriating man was, didn’t quite seem to see that.

“Well, my house if just a few hours drive from the bunker. How about we meet once a week for now, and I can teach you what you need to know. You can even stay the night if it gets too late. It’s not like I don’t have enough room.” You smiled as you readied the suture material. “Dean doesn’t have to agree. I’ll pick you up my damn self if he doesn’t like it.” Jack chuckled.

“You and Dean argue like family,” Jack noted. You chuckled lightly.

“We practically are. Almost the same person, actually. Accept, I’m far more reasonable.” You smiled. “Anyway, do we have a deal?” Jack smiled wider than you had ever seen and nodded. “Good. Now, try to hold still. I don’t have much to numb this. It’s going to hurt, but you only need four at the most.” You raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to close your eyes?” Jack shook his head.

“Sam and Dean don’t.”

“Yeah, but they’ve been doing this for years. There’s a learning curve, love.” You took Jack’s other hand and squeezed it. The warmth of his skin quickly transferred to yours, making you blush. You shook your head, momentarily thrown off by your reaction, before refocusing on what you were saying. “You don’t have to be tough right away.” Jack’s gaze locked on yours.

“Well, I need to start somewhere.” Jack offered you a hint of a smile, then nodded towards your medical equipment. “And I’m starting here.” You couldn’t help but laugh a little. He was so sweet, so caring. But now, you would see a strength inside Jack that you never noticed before. It wasn’t the same as Dean or Sam, or even Cas. It wasn’t driven by pride or purpose or the need to prove himself. It was driven by a need to protect himself and the ones around him.

Once Jack’s hand was mended and bandaged, you stood him up. He needed a new shirt, and something to eat. He didn’t seem to eat as much as you did, which was probably part of being half-angel, but he still ate somewhat regular meals.

You prepared a peanut butter sandwich and handed it to the battered Nephilim before hunting down a clean shirt for him. Jack took it happily and munched as he followed you in the hunt for a shirt that was close to his size. Luckily, plenty of hunters leave something behind, so you have a ‘take what you need’ closet in the hall.

“There,” you beamed as you handed Jack a plain, gray long-sleeved shirt. “That should fit just fine. I washed it last week. The hunter who left it behind was roughly your size.” Jack shoved the last part of his sandwich into his mouth, then lifted his stained shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor. You took a step back and turned, feeling your cheeks redden. What the hell was going on? He was just changing his shirt. And it was Jack, the sweet little Nephilim that the Winchesters were caring for. He was a friend.

You turned back just in time to see Jack straightening his sleeves. “Perfect,” he praised with a smile. You nodded, then led him to your small living room.

Once Jack was situated on the couch, he glanced up at you and smiled. You stared at each other for a moment. Then, you took a seat beside him, but didn’t say a word.

“Were you uncomfortable when I removed my shirt?” Jack asked bluntly. You snapped your gaze back up to Jack as your heart instantly started to race.

“Um, uncomfortable isn’t the right word.” You could feel your heart nearly leap out of your chest. Did he see how red your face got? You sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can explain it.” And that was the honest truth. Something about Jack was stirring you up, and you couldn’t tell if it was a new feeling, or if it had been silently brewing. Either way, it was now rearing its confusing head.

Jack nodded slowly. “I know my powers are weakened, but I can hear your heartbeat. It’s fast and really loud, louder thank normal.” The flush returned to your cheeks. This time, you were sure he could see it.

“I—uh—yeah.” Jack rested his hand on yours, lacing your fingers. He held them on the sofa between you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. My heart does the same thing when I’m with you. It started the moment we got here. You probably can’t feel it or hear it, but it does.” He lifted your hand up and rested the back of your hand against his chest. You smiled as you felt his heart pound rapidly against your skin.

“Jack—”

“I know I’ve only just met you. But, I feel safe with you. You make me smile. And, with each day that passed, I didn’t want to leave here. When I got hurt, I knew I needed to be here. And earlier, when you offered to help train me, I felt like jumping up in the air with happiness.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

“I can’t really see you doing that, but I get the point.” You turned away for a moment as everything started to sink in. Fifteen minutes ago, you thought of Jack as a sweet soul who needed some direction. But now, the truth was out.

And he felt the same way, whatever this feeling actually was.

Jack leaned towards you, smiling. “Would—um—would you mind if I kissed you?” Well, if your heart wasn’t pounding before, it definitely was now.

“I—uh—okay,” you breathed. Your glances battled each other for a moment, then Jack lean in towards you.

His warm lips grazed over yours, almost teasingly, sparking a fire deep in your chest. You could feel his lips curl into a smile before finally settling, strong and sure, unlike the Jack you thought you knew. His grip on your hand tightened as his lips parted ever so slightly, letting out a soft breath. You could feel the small cut on his bottom lip, but it didn’t seem to bother him at all as he slowly moved his lips with yours.

Jack slowly pulled back, smiling down at you. Well, that happened. Just a few minutes ago, you were stitching up his hand. And now, well, this. Everything felt like such a blur, but you could remember every moment. It was just, different. It wasn’t like anything you had ever felt before.

Jack cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “Is everything alright?” The look of concern on his face was almost priceless. You stood from the sofa and chuckled.

“Everything’s great.” Then, your whole tone changed. You grinned, offering your hand to Jack. “Ready for your lessons to begin?” Jack’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Well, I mean, okay.” Jack took your head and stood. “What’s my first lesson going to be?” he asked rather sweetly, almost as if he’s hoping for you to go easy on him.

“Today, we’re going to learn how to block a punch.” You grinned at him as you began pulling him towards the door to your back yard. You glanced back at Jack, who looked as stunned as ever.

“You—you’re going to punch me?” You laughed at the quiver in his voice.

“Not if you can block me,” you teased. But, Jack didn’t seem to get your humor. That was a lesson for another time.

Once you both were outside, Jack stared at you with pure fear. You took a few steps forward so you were only inches from him.

“Jack, I’m not actuallygoing to punch you. I’m going to move slowly, and let you get used to blocking techniques. Then, we’ll speed up as you improve.” Jack’s whole body relaxed, and he nodded. You took a half-step back, then stopped. “Oh, and a kiss for good luck.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips softly to his for a moment. Then, you took a few steps back.

Jack’s cheek bones flushed, but you could tell he was trying to maintain his composure. He lifted his arms in front of him, making you smile. Maybe this was going to be easier than you thought.

“Okay, Jack, let’s get started.”

Feedback is always appreciated and motivates my writing. If you would like to be added to a tag list, please send me an ask or message. Thanks!

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[clayfaced]

POSITIVE 20 QUESTIONS TAG GAME

ily @hopeisthewholepoint i was doing this a while ago and then the draft didn’t save so this is about 30 years late by now whopps. ily thanks for tagging me tho. ❤

1. Name 4 fictional characters who showcase your personality the best, with explanations if you want.

My girl Edrisa Tanaka from Prodigal Son bc we’re both socially awkward but at least she’s unapologetic about it. I want to say I have Sam Wilson’s humor and I too do what everyone else does just slower. Raymond Holt because I love fluffy bois and I’m down to fight anyone who says anything bad about my pets. Ben Wyatt because we’re both human disasters and I like making dumb stuff when I’m bored.  

2. Aesthetic

Playing pool terribly with friends, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, colorful rain jackets. Balloons, music playing from car radios, collecting movie ticket stubs. Painted nails, open windows, and fish stamps on postcards. The smell of fresh basil.

3. Favorite musical/play? (If you’ve never seen a musical or play, one you’d be interested in seeing?)

Come from Away. Hands down. Though I will say I saw recordings of the National Theater’s Frankensteins recently and both are very good but the Miller-as-the-creature version is especially good.

4. What is the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Okay this is a bit of an unfair question bc I die at any and all compliments. But one that I thought of today /a couple days ago/ a long time ago when i started writing this that made me happy again was when someone I'm in a club with let me borrow his camera to take pictures during a performance. I hadn't taken pictures in a while and I had so much fun and I don't really contribute to the club so I finally felt like I had purpose. It was hard to see how they came out on the camera but the next time I saw him he said they came out really well and someone else said that he's normally picky when it comes to photos but he liked mine so that made me feel even better and it was overall a very nice time. It wasn't even really the compliment (I mean, it still was but) it was also just the gesture to offer a camera when he heard I liked taking pictures. I didn't have my camera with me until after this and it really made me remember how much I liked it. Anyways he graduated and hasn't been in the club since last semester so I never see him but it made me v happy.

5. How many times have you been in love?

Miss me with that romantic love but I fall in love with friends and people and every little thing everyday.

6. Embarrassing story or fact about yourself that makes you laugh now?

Bold of you to assume I've recovered from anything embarrassing ever.

This is a bit of a cheat bc it was always funny but my middle school PE uniforms had words and definitions on the back of the shirts (no i don’t know why) and mine said “final: adj. last in place” or something like that and you know what? it was RIGHT.

7. Favorite Disney/Pixar movie?

Probably Up. Idk I don’t really have one.

8. Favorite flower or plant?

Probably triostar plants because they’re cute and pink.

9. What’s your favorite holiday?

Halloween 🎃! I love the idea that kids are going bonkers and getting candy and having a good time. And I love that it gives not-children people a chance to dress up and have fun and take themselves less seriously for a day.

EDIT: NO ONE TOLD ME I MISSED QUESTIONS 10-14. NO ONE LOOK AT THIS .LOOK AWAY. IM FIXING IT. HOW DID I MISS FIVE WHOLE ENTIRE QUESTIONS. SMH.

10. Name three things that made you laugh or smile this past week.

This meme dee just sent me a minute ago. I had a socially-distant dinner with a couple of my friends whomst I love a lot on Saturday and it was very nice to see their beautiful faces in person again and I love them a lot. Time isn’t real I don’t know what happened this week. I set up the Xbox again and I’ve played a little little bit of Assassins Creed (which Im very bad at) and Skyrim (which im only a little bad at) and that’s been fun. Bonus answer of dee, nina, and I have been watching 911: Lone Star together and it’s v v fun.

11. What song would you play to introduce yourself to someone?

That is way too hard of a question to definitively answer. My music taste varies so wildly and my favorite song is usually the one I've obsessively listened to the last. Using that logic: Bang! by AJR or Wake Me by Bleachers. Or Chris Martin’s cover of Shelter from the Storm by Bob Dylan. Yeah. The last one.

12. Name something that truly makes you feel peaceful even at your most stressed moments.

Being a passenger in a car with music playing though that doesn’t really happen when I’m stressed. I wouldn’t say peaceful because when I’m not good at that when I’m stressed and most of the time when I’m stressed I have too much stress inside of me so I would rather get it out than be peaceful. So I just put earbuds in and listen to music too loudly so I don’t have to hear anything around me and I can just sort of release all pent up energy with the music and calm down.

13. What do you, did you, or would you study at college?

I’m studying film! I’m technically undeclared but I’m hoping to declare soon. :-). Yes I’m going to be unemployed and leech off of dee for the rest of our lives thanks for asking.

14. This is kind of a weird one, but which outfit of yours makes you feel most like yourself?

Um. Definitely sneakers (by default my white ones because I only have one pair) because I like being able to Move. Same reason for my black pants bc they’re not restricting at all and comfy. And then probably my gray sweatshirt which dee will murder me for saying bc it means I have zero (0) colors in my outfit but it comfy. I like having colors but I feel more comfortable in more neutral colors.

15. What is a quote you live by?

Oof oof I don’t know. I think there are a lot of quotes I want to live by and then I forget about them so if I am living by a specific quote, it’s not consciously. I reblog a lot I like to my words tag or text tag, and this one:

 “‘Do you fall in love often?’ Yes often. With a view, with a book, with a dog, a cat, with numbers, with friends, with complete strangers, with nothing at all.” (Jeanette Winterson)

explains me very well. I don’t know that it’s something I live by because it’s just a state of my existence but it me.

16. Name the funniest playlist name you have.

I wish I had funnier playlist names. One of them is living room couch alone for a very specific mood when it's after 10 o'clock and everyone else is asleep and I'm in the living room alone on the couch and I'm not tired and time doesn't feel real. It's a good mood. I also have one called new york times which isn't funny I just like it.

17. Make a reference to an inside joke you have with someone you love with zero context.

“you know why we do this?" *snap with one hand* "because we can’t always get our arms free to do this” *dramatic arching snap with both hands* 

But that one’s not with dee ( @mrrmiracle ) so give me one sec to think of something else too. Ok here we go: 

"that Andrew Garfield movie"

18. What is a message you would give your younger self if given the chance?

Stop overthinking and start doing. You can’t sit at home sad your friends aren’t hanging out with you if you never ask them to hang out. Initiate things. Its not as scary as it seems. Also for the love of all things holy please form good habits now. Form all the good habits I have none and I’m tired.

19. Who is your favorite family member? (If you have no good blood family members, feel free to mention someone in your found family)

um my cats :// im just kidding it’s @mrrmiracle obviously.

20. What’s a secret dream of yours?

Um lol to not be alone. To be employed doing something I enjoy and make enough money to support myself. If I put lol will this sound less sad.

I’m tagging @mrrmiracle, @grayson-dick @valleydean and @daredeviil and if anyone else wants to do it just say i tagged you and i’ll edit it to include you 👀. i just get anxious tagging people bc i don’t want to annoy people and i never know who wants to be tagged or not.

[dreams-of-kalopsia]

Fictober Prompt 21

“Change is annoyingly difficult.”

Voltron fanfiction (Plance)

No warnings apply.

Read it on AO3.

____

Part 1 (Pidge): Timing

Part 2 (Lance): Intuition

Part 3 (Colleen): Grounded

Part 4 (Hunk): Change

Hunk senses something wrong the moment he lays eyes on his best friend. Lance is sitting alone at their usual table, elbow propped and sulking face resting heavily on his fist. His other hand pokes at his food with a spork.

“Stop that,” Hunk scolds as he takes the seat across, carefully placing his lasagna-laden tray on the table.

Lance stops. But only to give him a sullen glance.

He shakes his head in annoyance. That’s when he sees the half-finished tray of food beside his friend’s. Everything clicks in his mind.

Pidge was called away again.

“Who was it this time?” he asks without preamble.

Lance’s answer is a grumbled “MFE pilots.”

“Aww man, again?” Hunk groans. “We don’t see Pidge her first week of being grounded. She gets a little leeway, and Sam, Matt, and Slav drag her around with them for days. They finish whatever they were doing, and the MFE Division takes her away—with me, because apparently they’re big fans of Voltron’s tech team, but that’s beside the point—and now the MFE pilots want something from her again?” He throws his hands up. “What about us? We haven’t hung out for weeks!” He then points at Pidge’s tray. “Pidge didn’t even enjoy her food long enough to realize I made it, in celebration of our supposed hang out day!”

Another grumble. The weak reaction aggravates Hunk, and he crosses his arms.

“You didn’t notice either, did you.” A statement because his friend clearly hasn’t. “I’ll assume it’s due to Pidge bailing out on us and not my culinary skills.”

No response other than louder stabby noises and a sulkier Lance.

“Ugh. I miss her!” he gripes. “Don’t you?”

A flash of regret crosses Lance’s face.

It’s a stark contrast to the confused, embarrassed blushes he’s had for the past two months or so. Hunk can’t remember exactly when he began seeing the expression, but he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen it on his friend until around three weeks ago. At first, he thought it was because Allura’s been spending most of her time with Romelle and Coran in the hospital wing, waiting for the Altean pilot of that Komar-robeast to regain consciousness. He didn’t even connect anything when news of scary Mrs. Holt grounding the Green Paladin of Voltron first reached their ears. But after repeatedly watching Lance make that expression at every mention of Pidge, Hunk is now sure that it’s a Pidge issue his best friend is having.

And he thinks he has enough facts to put together to figure out what’s been happening with his friends.

Fact number one: Pidge likes Lance. She told Hunk herself.

Fact number two: She used Hunk’s cheesy, thoughtless pick-up line—a fact that will forever crack him up—on his best friend. Lance told him himself.

Fact number three: Lance also said that he’d tried asking Pidge about what she meant but ended up taking her to Varadero for sunset watching instead. How he managed to turn an impending serious talk into a day trip, Hunk will never know.

Fact number four: Pidge was grounded the day after and disappeared for a week.

Fact number five: She’s been spending less time with Hunk and Lance since her reappearance. Okay, no. For the benefit of the doubt, Hunk will allow that she’s become so busy she barely has time to hang out. That still implicates her because she doesn’t make time for them. She’s not the only busy Paladin on Earth, after all; if he and Lance can do it, she should’ve been able to do it, too. So the benefit of the doubt doesn’t work for her… well, benefit.

Sooo something happened in Varadero convincing Pidge that Lance rejected her, hence why she’s limiting her interactions with him without making it obvious that she is—which, contrary to what she believes, she’s being totally obvious about.

“I wasn’t rejected, Hunk. I just decided to give up on him,” Pidge said around a mouthful of peanut butter cookies he’d given as secret bribe, during one of their breaks from upgrading the MFE units last week.

Give up? On Lance? As if.

As if Hunk doesn’t catch the longing glances she’d send their friend when she thinks everyone’s too distracted to notice. As if she doesn’t stare after Lance with a regretful expression on her face the exact same way he sees Lance do.

Yeah.

He chomps grumpily on a heaping spork of lasagna.

As if.

Hunk hates that he’s the only one who notices stuff like this. He hates it. But what he hates more is his inability to leave ostensibly well enough alone once his gut tells him that something’s off. And what he hates most is his perceived, reluctant duty to be the voice of reason that points everything out to everyone else. Because that’s how he ends up standing right in the middle of things whether he likes it or not, how he unwittingly advertises himself as mediator when things turn out to be a full-blown conflict.

It’s exhausting sometimes. Getting to say ‘I told you so!’ loses its vindicating satisfaction when one gets to do it all the time. Still, bringing up an issue so the people involved can address and resolve it is an awkward task he’d willingly undertake if it means they’d all get along again.

But that’s the problem with the current thing he’s embroiled in. There’s no issue. No conflict, no falling-out, no friendship broken. Just Pidge dealing with rejection in the maturest manner Hunk has seen from her and Lance acting like he’s lost her even though she never left in the first place.

It’s like watching two people dance expertly around each other. Except one twirls in pirouettes of classical ballet, the other breaks it down with hip hop moves, and neither of them is aware of dancing at all. As a frustrated spectator on the sidelines, Hunk is honestly starting to worry that his motion sickness will return one of these days.

A resounding stabbing sound causes him to jerk his head up towards the source. He finds Lance staring out onto the hallway beyond the mess hall’s window, fingers frozen and tines of his spork impaling a slice of lasagna rather morbidly. Following his friend’s gaze leads Hunk’s eyes to Pidge, who’s talking animatedly with Nadia and James.

Oh boy. Great timing, Pidge.

She meets their gazes and sends them a genuine, apologetic look, but she doesn’t spare them a minute to give an actual apology. In three seconds, she’s walked past the windows, disappearing on them again. She makes it look so easy.

“Gotta admit, that one hurts a bit,” Hunk says with a wry smile. His best friend releases a miserable sigh at the same time. He turns back to Lance in surprise. “Chill, dude! It’s just one missed hang out day. No need to be that dejected.”

The stabby noises resume with increased force. He resumes eating his food.

“Look, you’re being dramatic. It’s not as bad as that time Eliza Moreno rejected you—no, no,” he corrects himself, “You didn’t really like her; you just liked flustering her. Okay, so not as bad as when Noelle Page dumped—”

“I dumped her.” Whoa, a response, albeit grumpy.

“Yeah?” Memories of that messy one-sided breakup resurface in his mind. “Yeah, right!” He slaps his forehead. “How could I forget! Remember how she waited crying outside our bunk room until you talked to her? Even our COs couldn’t take her away.”

Lance’s sulky frown deepens. “I don’t think anyone could forget.”

“So not as bad as when Mila Chen—”

“She was over me by the time I became fighter class.”

“Oh. What about when Sophie Carson—”

“Turned out to like Madison Boyer?”

“…That didn’t bother you? You were courting her for some time, right?”

“To help make Maddie jealous and confess to her.”

“Ooh. An ally, I see.” Hunk raises his cup to his friend, impressed by this inside info.

Lance just scoffs.

“Okay, wait. I’m sure about this: Jenny Shaybon. The only Jenny who ever mattered to you. You had a really good thing going on for over a year before she left the Garrison to chase her dreams.”

“We parted as friends.”

“You did?” Hunk pouts, then sighs. “So I guess it’s not as bad as when Allura and Lo—” Lance strikes the table with his palms.

“Why are you going through my romantic history, Hunk?” he demands, still miserable but now also fed up. “Just tell me what your point is.”

“My point is that you don’t have to feel as bad about a missed get-together as a failed relationship.”

Though Hunk’s tone is placating throughout his explanation, his best friend shoots him an affronted look. “First of all, my relationship with Allura hasn’t failed; it’s actually just about to start. Secondly, I don’t feel as bad about this as you think.”

“So stop looking like you do.” The words seem to strike Lance like a direct, physical hit, and Hunk has this acute feeling that he just said the wrong thing at the worst possible time.

But why?

Before Hunk can begin to figure out what he said wrong, Lance gathers his and Pidge’s trays and quietly stands up.

“Uhh, where are you going?”

“I’m heading back to my room. Sorry, Hunk. Let’s hang out another day.” Lance walks out of the mess hall without another word, head bowed and shoulders slumped.

“…Wow. Left behind twice today,” Hunk grouses once he’s alone. “Leave me a third time, why don’t you. I feel the love.” He chews angrily while preparing for another bite. “What was that for, anyway? I just pointed out what I see.”

Why’s Lance so touchy when it comes to Pidge? She may (pretend to) have given up on her feelings for him, but it’s not like she’ll ever give up on their friendship. Besides, it’s not like he knows about how she feels. Oblivious when it matters, that guy. And yet he acts all broody as if he’s the one who got—

A sudden idea skews Hunk’s perspective and with it his spork of lasagna. The chunk falls with a small splat on the table. The metallic clatter of spork hitting food tray follows soon after.

The way Lance acts whenever Pidge is mentioned…

It’s as if he’s the one who got rejected.

“Hoooly crow,” Hunk mutters to himself, palms finding their way to his temples. “What?!”

He knows not when the change in his friend happened, only that it did. He also knows that it complicates everything. It adds unannounced contraflow lanes to a one-way expressway. It flips the script on itself after getting flipped once already. It turns a straight line into a triangle.

And this change…

“…is annoyingly

difficult

.”

____

Thanks for reading! Names of Lance’s non-canon exes credited to @artemisarya. You’ve been a huge help! ^u^

[atc74]

Huckleberry

Square(s) Filled: Western for @spngenrebingo, Love Confession for BTZ Bingo, Road Trip for @spnfluffbingo2019

Warnings: slight angst, Dean in a Stetson, tears, fluff

Summary: Y/N plans a trip and fakes a case to tell Dean how she really feels but it doesn’t exactly go the way she had planned. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2611

Written for: btzbingo, @spngenrebingo, @spnfluffbingo2019

Beta’d by: @alleiradayne, thank you love. 

A/N: This may have been a request or a suggestion at one time, or it could have been a conversation between me and @sis-tafics, I don’t really remember. Either way, I like how this turned out and I hope you do too!

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

“Hey Dean, I found us a case,” Y/N looked up as Dean walked into the kitchen, his dead man robe hanging open, revealing his boxers. He shuffled in his old man slippers across the cold concrete floor to the coffee pot.

“Great, I’ll let Sam know. Ready in thirty?” he asked, savoring the first sip of his coffee.

“It’s a milk run, thought maybe you and me could take this one on our own. Give Sam some alone time.” Y/N looked at Dean over the rim of her cup, waiting on his reply.

“Yeah, sounds good, Sweetheart,” he smiled and her heart flipped in her chest, lodging itself in her throat. She’d always been a sucker for his smile, but when they were alone like this and she knew it was just for her was a whole other story.

Thirty minutes later, she meet Dean in the garage as he was checking the weapons. She tossed her overstuffed bag in the back seat and joined him at Baby’s trunk.

“So we have pretty much everything we need for anything, except lamb’s blood. It’s not a djinn, is it?” He looked to her as he lowered the lid on the weapons cache.

“No. No djinn. Please no djinn ever again,” she shook her head clear of the memories of a hunt gone wrong a couple years ago. It was the turning moment in her life and her perspective of the elder Winchester. The djinn-induced dream revealed her deepest desire and while deep down she may have always known she was attracted to Dean, she never thought that a life with him could be possible. She pursed her lips together, blurting out her well practiced dialogue. “Ghost. Should be a simple salt and burn. Two, three days tops.”

They climbed in the car, doors shutting in unison. Dean turned the ignition and Baby rumbled to life, purring like a badass kitten. As he put her into drive, pulling out of the garage, Dean turned to Y/N. “Where to m’lady?”

Y/N was sure she blushed a couple different shades of pink. “You’re gonna love this, Dean... Tombstone, Arizona, good sir.”

“Tombstone? Are you shitting me right now? We have a case in Tombstone?” Dean was so excited, Baby lurched under the pressure of his booted foot when he turned his upper body to face Y/N.

“Easy cowboy!” she laughed. “It’s just a case.”

“It is not just a case. It’s a ghost in Tombstone! Ahhh! Maybe it’s Billy Claiborne! I bet it’s Billy Claiborne,” Dean smirked and turned his attention back to the road, flooring it to get to their destination. It was going to be a long drive.

And it was. With Dean so excited about a potential case in Tombstone, the mecca of all things Wild West, it was a struggle to keep him focused. The sooner they were checked into their room, the sooner her nerves would calm down. Or get worse. It was a crap shoot at this point.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her life. Sure, she hunted the worst of the worst. She’d been shot, stabbed, broken bones and has been stitched up more times than she can count. But telling her best friend she’s in love with him? It was a whole new ballgame.

Dean slowed as they entered the city limits, his eyes wide as he took in the sights of Tombstone, Arizona. After all the miles he had logged, after all the places he had been and things he had seen, it was somewhere Dean had only ever dreamed of visiting. He didn’t even care what the case was, he decided they were staying a few extra days so he could see and experience everything Tombstone had to offer. And with his favorite girl by his side.

“Hey, I called ahead and reserved us a room. I thought it was the least I could do, dragging you all the way here and all,” Y/N mentioned as he stopped at the crosswalk. “It’s just ahead, Wyatt’s Hotel and Coffee House. Two of your favorite things, Winchester. Wyatt Earp and coffee.” She giggled as she watched Dean, a wide smile breaking out across his handsome face.

“Don’t forget you and whiskey,” he winked and Y/N felt herself blush in the darkness of the Impala. “Let’s get checked in and start fresh in the morning, huh?”

After Dean parked, they got out of the car, bags slung over their shoulders and walked into the hotel. Y/N approached the desk, checking them in while Dean stood in the middle of the lobby, his mouth agape, taking in everything. The hotel was directly across the street from the O.K. Corral and there were faded photos all along the walls depicting the rich and outlawed history of the town. Y/N jingled a set of keys at Dean to get his attention and together they climbed the stairs to their room on the second floor of the hotel.

Dean took the keys from her and stared at the sign on the door announcing they were entering the Wyatt and Josephine Suite. “Seriously?!” His voice was higher than his usual baritone, accentuated by the excitement. “Wyatt and Josephine!” Dean unlocked the door and swung it wide. The room furnished with period pieces, right down to the steel frame bed and lace doilies. He didn’t even say a word about the single king size bed.

Y/N let him inspect every little piece of the room while she went to change in the surprisingly modern bathroom. She had done her research and while the website toted a ‘spacious modern bathroom’, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. She tried to keep her mind focused on taking off her clothes and putting on her pajamas, which to be honest, was just a pair of loose boy shorts and a old band tee she had stolen from Dean. She could hear the voices in her head telling her she was wrong. She shouldn’t do this. She’d lose her best friend. But for once her heart was louder and stronger than the voices in her head. She smiled to herself and stepped out of the bathroom to find Dean already in bed, reading what appeared to be all of the brochures the hotel had provided.

“Did you know the O.K. Corral is literally across the street? Man we gotta go there! And the Birdcage Theatre. This is awesome!” Dean hadn’t stopped smiling since they left the Bunker. Y/N hoped he doesn’t stop for the entire trip.

“I knew you’d be excited about this!” she told him, climbing into the opposite of the bed. “There is a coffee shop downstairs and a continental breakfast is included. What’d’ya say we get some shut eye, then start our day with coffee and pastries, maybe some bacon?”

“Sounds awesome,” Dean repeated, placing the brochures on the bedside table and flipped off the small lamp.

Y/N woke the next morning to an empty bed and room, Dean having disappeared. Christ, there better not really be a case here! She thought to herself as she attended to her morning business. She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped tight in a towel to find Dean sitting at the small table. Y/N wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Dean to find her in just a towel, or her seeing Dean in his best western get up, complete with light colored Stetson and boots.

Y/N took hold of herself mentally shaking the impure thoughts from her head. “Soooo, what’s with the gettup, cowboy? Or should I say Marshall?”

“Well, when in Rome…” Dean gestured to the room with a wink in her direction and she swore her knees were going to buckle if she looked at him one more second, or worse, she was going to rip the towel from her body and throw herself at him like a fool. She quickly grabbed her clothes and returned to the bathroom.

“Fuck!” she mumbled after she managed to close the door. She was going to have to fess up sooner rather than later, because in all her scheming, she forgot to pack her Fed suit. Throwing on a tank and her tightest jeans, she stepped back out in the room to see Dean holding out a hat similar to his own.

“I got you one, too, Sweetheart,” he dropped the hat on her head.

“That’s so sweet, Dean. Thank you,” she whispered, overcome with emotion at the small gesture.

“Of course, Sweetheart. I gotta take care of my best girl,” he smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Speaking of which, your suit is hanging in the closet. I’ll go get us a table while you finish getting dressed.”

Y/N watched him swagger, yes swagger, out of the room. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest that she was surprised he didn’t hear it. She took her suit from the hanger, shocked that she forgot it, but Dean remembered. He was always looking out for her, even when neither of them realized it.

She twisted her hair up in a low bun at the nape of her neck and brushed some mascara on her lashes. She never was much for makeup, but figured a light coat couldn’t hurt. She checked herself once more before grabbing her key and making her way downstairs to meet Dean. She dreaded having to tell him the truth, but hoped he wouldn't be mad. So what if there wasn’t a case? They were in Tombstone, Dean’s Disneyland, and she was going to make the most of it for him.

Dean had secured not only a table, but he already had it loaded with hot coffee, just the way she liked it, a pile of bacon, along with a plate of fruit, and a toasted english muffin, complete with peanut butter. He was halfway through a chocolate covered bear claw when she sat down. “You spoil me, you know that right?”

“Someone has to. If it wasn’t for me and Sammy, you’d spend your days hungry and naked,” he chuckled, mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like “not that I’d mind” but she brushed it off as a hallucination due to minor starvation.

“You’re right. You cook for me and wash my clothes. I’m a lucky girl. I’d hate to think what I’d be without you,” she nibbled on the english muffin, licking the peanut butter from her thumb.

“You’ll never have to worry about that, Sweetheart,” he vowed, quickly changing the subject. “Now, tell me about this case.” He rubbed his hands together, ready to hear all the gory details.

“Yeah, about that. I hear there have been some sightings at the Birdcage Theatre,” she mumbled.

“Birdcage Theatre it is!” Dean finished his coffee while she ate the last bite. “Come on, you can finish your coffee on the way over. It’s just a couple blocks.”

By the time they reached their destination, she couldn’t keep it from him anymore. “Dean there isn’t a case!”

“What do you mean there isn’t a case?” Dean turned and looked at her, the look on his face a cross between annoyed and offended. “You dragged me all the way here for nothing? I can’t believe you faked a case!” He turned on the heels of his boots and walking away.

Tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t even made half the confessions she had planned and he was already pissed at her. Great. Way to go Y/N, she thought, kicking a stray rock down the street and she walked back to their hotel. Just as she reached the hotel, she spotted Dean leaning against the wooden fence at the O.K. Corral. He looked deep in thought so she let him be and walked up to their room. She shed out of her suit, carefully placing it back on the hanger and in the garment bag. Y/N dropped to the bed and curled up into a ball, letting the tears fall for everything she had just lost.

She groggily blinked her eyes open, the sun shining too brightly through the lace curtains. Dean was sitting in a chair too small for his large frame, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. She walked over to where he sat, kneeling in front of him.

“Dean I am so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have faked a case, but I just wanted some time with you. I thought this would be the perfect spot to get away. Forget all the shit we’ve been through this year. You’re always taking care of me and I just wanted to do something nice for you for once. I’m sorry,” she sniffed, the tears coming back.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to get away? If you had led with that, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat!” Dean looked down at her, crying at his feet. “Why go to all the trouble?”

“Because of you, Dean. You do everything for me. You’re always looking out for me whether you realize it or not. You feed and clothe me. You and Sam took me in without question and gave me a home and a family,” she cried.

“Because that is what you do for someone you love, Y/N.”

“I’m so sor - wait. What did you say?” she blinked rapidly, thinking that it would somehow improve her hearing. She thought she heard Dean say he loved her.

“I have been such a chicken shit! Ever since that damn djinn hunt, I’ve been lying to myself, to you. I shoulda said something, but I was afraid I was going to lose you,” Dean confessed, sliding from the chair and dropping to his knees in front of her. “I love you. I think I have since you burst into our lives. I can’t imagine mine without you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It seemed so surreal, she laughed. She laughed until there were tears in her eyes for good reasons. “Oh my God, Dean. I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Those are the sweetest words you could ever say to me.”

“Care to enlighten me, Sweetheart?” Dean didn’t look amused.

“Yeah, yeah. I, um, I planned this trip a couple months ago. I brought you here on the false pretense of a case because I felt I needed an excuse and I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you how I really felt. I love you, Dean. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me in my stupid life and just needed you to know,” she smiled up at him.

“I’m so glad you planned this. I love you, Y/N,” Dean whispered, leaning in. He pressed his lips to hers softly, testing the waters. Y/N reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulled him closer. She returned his kiss with vigor, pulling back from him only to catch her breath.

Dean leaned his forehead on hers. “For smart people, we’re pretty stupid. I coulda been kissing, and doing other things to you, this whole time.”

“No time like the present,” she grinned, kissing his lips once more.

“Can we still go to all the places and see all the things? There isn’t anyone I would rather experience Tombstone with than you,” Dean professed.

“I’m your Huckleberry,” she whispered. The trip may not have started the way she planned, but it certainly was turning out better than she could have dreamed of.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl  @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @docharleythegeekqueen @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever

BTZ Crew: @katymacsupernatural @pinknerdpanda @hannahindie @chelsea072498

[sidehowriting]

Princesses and Secret Admirers

Masterlist in bio!

A/N: I was really hoping @loki-the-fox would do a Valentine’s Day Challenge because I had an idea going and look! It’s a Valentine’s Day Challenge! This is the 4th installment of the Princesses series (?) but can function as a stand alone. I’m not going to link the previous parts here because I get more traffic without links. But they can all be found in my masterlist.

Prompt: Who’s it from? Your secret admirer? 

Pairings: Dad!Thor x Daughter

Summary: Someone has a crush on Thor’s daughter

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Just cute fluff, over protective Thor and other Avengers 

Coming home was always Thor’s favorite part of missions. He missed his wife, his kids, his simple domestic life. Getting home early always a treat. And this time was no exception.

It was just past three-thirty in the afternoon when he got home, a full eight hours ahead of schedule. He crept in as quietly as he could, finding his family gathered in the kitchen.

A chorus of cheers and yelling greeted his ears as his family rushed towards him. He smiled broadly, easily encompassing his wife, son, and daughter into his arms. “I missed you all so much!” He said, giving each family member a kiss. “I’m so happy to be back!”

“I missed you too, Dad!” His daughter said, clinging to his middle.

“We’re so glad you’re back.” His wife placed a sweet kiss to his cheek as she spoke.

His tiny two-year-old son simply jumped up and down at his legs yelling, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

When he had his fill of their family hug, he released them. “I was just making some after school snacks,” his wife said. “I have some cut up apples with peanut butter if that’s alright. Or I can make you whatever you please. Sometime more filling.”

“This is fine, my queen.” He placed his hand on her waist and kissed her cheek again. “Stark fed us well.”

“I’ll slice up another one then,” she said, smiling. “Can you go through Lina’s backpack with her?”

“Of course!” Thor bellowed and joined his daughter at the kitchen table. The backpack in question was already sitting in the middle of the table. Lina was seated, pulling school books out of the pack. Thor sat down next to her. “What do we have?”

He took the stuff she handed him. “I have a worksheet to do for history. And I have two pages of math to do. Will you help me?” She looked up at him, pleadingly. He never did have the willpower to deny her. Her sweet blue eyes always melted his heart.

“Of course, my princess.” He started to sort the books while little Arik started to pull at his leg. Thor lifted his son up, placing him on his lap. “We’ll both help, right, little prince?” Smiling, Thor opened Lina’s folder, flipping through the papers to find her worksheet. “What’s this?” He pulled out a torn piece of paper, intricate creases showing that it was once folded in many ways. In the center of the paper was a note: I liked your hair ribbon. Pink is a good color.

His wife placed a plate of apples and peanut butter on the table next to them. Arik wasted no time in grabbing and apple and munching on it. “Oh, is that a note?” She asked, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “Who’s it from? Your secret admirer?”

“Yeah!” Lina said proudly, grabbing the letter from Thor. “Look at this one!”

Thor watched as Lina passed the note to her mother, utterly confused. “What? What secret admirer?”

“Olina’s been getting notes just about everyday this week. Someone in her class has a crush on her.”

“What?” Thor’s eyes were wide as disks, looking from his daughter to his wife. “No, absolutely not.”

Lina sighed, “It’s okay, Dad. Valentine’s Day is next week.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Panic was starting to settle in. No, no way. Olina was only seven. There was no way in the nine realms that she had a secret admirer. She was far too young for crushes.

“I hope they’re from Tommy,” Lina said, grabbing an apple and coating it in peanut butter. “He’s the cutest.”

Thor clutched his chest, feeling like he might pass out. “It’s okay,” came his wife’s soothing voice. She placed her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “No need to worry. It’s just a school yard crush.”

No matter what his wife said, Thor couldn’t get past that his daughter had a secret admirer. The thought was in the back of his mind as he helped Lina with her homework, helped make dinner, and helped get the kids to bed. He didn’t say anything until he and his wife were preparing for their own slumber.

“I don’t like this,” he said, brushing his golden hair. “She’s far too young.”

“She’s seven, Thor.” His wife sounded tired and borderline annoyed. “That may be young for an Asgardian, but for a human that’s a perfectly normal age to have a crush.”

“She’s half Asgardian!” He countered.

His wife started laughing. “She’s also half human. So far, her aging is on par with humans. If that changes then I will fully support your opinion that she’s too little. Until she slows down, she’s allowed to think some boy in her class is cute.”

Thor continued to grumble and complain about it. Not pleased with how fast his little girl was growing up. Wasn’t it just yesterday she was swaddled tightly, nothing but a tiny face poking out of a blanket as he rocked her to sleep? He did not like this one bit.

“Now,” his wife came to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. His large frame prevented her hands from meeting. “You’ve been away for eight days. I’ve missed you. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be with you.”

Putting the brush down, he smirked. He twisted around and easily lifted her off her feet. She squealed and giggled, grabbing onto his shoulders. He kissed her deeply yet quickly, just giving her a taste of what was to come. “Let me remind you, then.”

//

Thor volunteered to stay at home the next morning with Arik while his wife took Olina to school. He was formulating a plan on how to deal with this secret admirer and wanted his lovely wife out of the house to do so. Was it a bit sneaky? Sure, but he was just doing his duty as a father.

While Arik was content watching cartoons, Thor pulled out his phone and sent a group text:

Thor: We have a situation

Tony: Something wrong?

Clint: Is everything ok?

Steve: Is your family alright?

Bucky: I can be there in 20 minutes

Thor: Everyones fine. I just found out theres someone at school who was been sneaking Lina love notes.

Sam: Love notes??????

Tony: This is an emergency

Bucky: I’ll be there in 10

Steve: Whos the punk?

Thor: I dont know. Shes been coming home with secret notes everyday from someone. She doesnt know who its from

Tony: Give me the note. I’ll have the handwriting analyzed

Thor: That will take too long. I have another idea

//

Thor pushed open the door into the house after getting Lina from school. “Mom!” Lina yelled, “we’re back!”

“Remember what I said,” Thor whispered to her before her mother appeared. “Mummy doesn’t need to know.”

“Hello!” His wife walked in with a smile on her face. “How as school?”

“It was great! I got a hundred on the history worksheet Dad helped me with yesterday!” Lina said so proudly, making Thor feel great.

“That’s so wonderful!” Lina’s mother kissed the top of the little girl’s head. Something about her tone and behavior was off and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Why don’t you go wash up and play with Arik for a little bit before snack and homework?”

With no other prompting, Lina raced out of the room, leaving him alone with his wife. Instantly, her posture changed. Her eyes hardened and her hands went right to hips like they do when she scolds the children.

“So, do you want to tell me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his eyes skirting everywhere to avoid her harsh gaze. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Nope. No idea.” He swayed from foot to foot gently, trying to act natural.

“Really?” She whipped out her cell phone. “This is the text I got from Lina’s teacher. ‘I see Thor is back. He showed up to pick Lina up. He had the whole Avenger’s crew with him, all ready for battle. It seemed a bit odd but he had Lina’s pick up pass so we let her go. It was strange so I wanted to send you a text just to let you know.’”

He mentally cursed himself. He thought as long as he had the pass saying he was there to pick up Olina that everything would go smoothly.

“Not to mention,” his wife continued, her voice starting to rise. “The texts I was getting from some of the other parents. So, I’m going to ask again. Why were you, Anthony, Clinton, Steven, James, and Samuel all picking Olina up from school? All wearing your battle gear?”

She was addressing everyone by their full names. She was not happy.

“I can explain,” he started, trying to think of something that wouldn’t make his wife explode at him.

“If you’re about to tell me that you did that to try and intimidate whatever poor little boy that likes Lina you are sleeping on the couch for the next week.”

“Well-“

“Thor Odinson! I cannot believe you!” He was in deep trouble now. “She’s a child, Thor! It’s just a little crush! And then to get practically the whole team involved in this?”

“My darling,” he pleaded, rushing to her side. “The others…well they should know what’s going on in Olina’s life, right? They just wanted to help.”

“Uh, huh.” She walked away from him. “Is there a reason Natasha and Bruce weren’t there as well? Could it be because they’re the only rational ones out of the group? They would have told you just how stupid you were being?”

That was exactly why they were not part of his group chat, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. “My queen. My beautiful beautiful queen. I just wanted to-“

“What? Intimidate a child?” When she said it like that, it did sound rather extreme. “Thor...” Her voice finally dropped. She just sounded tired now.

“I’m sorry.” He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing her palm. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset, my queen.” He kissed her palm again and she started to relax and melt. “Truly.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “Just the thought of Olina growing up so quickly… I miss her being small.”

She responded by wrapping her own arms around his neck, kissing his cheek tenderly. “I know. I do too. I miss those days so much. But she’s growing up and we can’t stop that. She’s going to grow up and there’s going to be lots of boys and girls that have crushes on her. Same with Arik. That’s how life works.”

She had a point that he was reluctant to admit. Instead, he just rested his cheek against the top of her head. He loved his wife so much. He was so thankful to have her. She made him a better man, husband, father. “I don’t know what I would do without you, my queen,” he whispered to her. “You are right as always. I acted irrationally and I am sorry. But Lina did like being picked up by all of us. She was very happy and surprised.”

“Be that as it may, you still caused a scene. The whole lot of you did.” She pulled away to meet his eyes. “I know you all love her and are protective of her, but this is not the way to go about it. Promise me that if you’re concerned about something, you’ll come talk to me about it first before you assemble the Avengers?”

“I promise,” he said and kissed her. He enjoyed this soft, simple moment with her. Holding her hips and kissing her with all the love he could muster. What he wouldn’t do for her and his family.

She was the one to slowly pull away, her lips a bit rosy. She smiled, and gently traced her fingers around his cheek. “I love you. And you’re still sleeping on the couch.”

Tags: @lancsnerd @xxloki81xx @dsakita

[ravenwrites-fanfiction]

Sam x Pregnant!Reader: Mini Moose

Author: EdgarAllenPoes-Raven

Character: Sam

Word Count: 5493

Warnings: Smut, oral (reader receiving), pregnant reader, non-graphic birth

Brief Summary/Request Prompt/Original Imagine:  Being pregnant wasn’t by any means a walk in the park and being pregnant with a Winchester baby with their giant genetics was differently not easy. Especially if said baby’s father was one Sam Winchester. You’d affectionately given the baby the nickname of Mini Moose.

Being pregnant wasn’t by any means a walk in the park and being pregnant with a Winchester baby with their giant genetics was differently not easy. Especially if said baby’s father was one Sam Winchester. You’d affectionately given the baby the nickname of Mini Moose and that wasn’t just because of the size but also because your baby loved to kick.

The first three months passed by without a hitch it was only when you were creeping into your fourth month did things start to go pear shaped, every now and again, Sam would find you curled up in a blanket on the sofa watch reruns of your favorite show crying for no apparent reason. Your mood swings were terrible and mostly aimed at Sam but he took it all like a champ, then there were your cravings, god they were weird. The newest was pickles dipped in peanut butter but they changed often and it would leave you a ball of frustration trying to find out what the baby wanted. 

You were six months pregnant with a baby boy and was so ready to have this pregnancy over and done with. ‘’You are so grounded.’’ You groaned as the baby kicked right into your kidneys and Sam chuckled, ‘’Kidney?’’

‘’Yeah, seems like mini moose is destined to be a champion kick boxer.’’

Sam came up behind you and started to rub your lower back in soothing circles; his other hand splayed across your forever – in your opinion – swelling stomach. ‘’Maybe someone is just excited to see uncle Dean?’’

You smiled, ‘’Uncle Dean is going to be worst when it comes to spoiling our little mini moose, I’d say more so than his grandparents.’’

‘’Ohh I don’t know about that; Mom’s been planning a huge baby shower since we told her.’’ You lent back against Sam in an attempted to take most of the weight of your back; the back pain wasn’t anything new but it was slowly starting to become more often.

‘’You’re back hurting?’’ You could hear the concern in Sam’s voice, ‘’Yeah; think I’ve been stood up for too long.’’

‘’Come here.’’ He gently cradled your hand in his and guided you to the couch, first he sat down on the opposite end of the couch swing his legs up his opened his arms, inviting you to lie down against him. You happily accepted lying in between his legs with your back to his chest; you let out a sigh as the pressure on your back started to ease away.

‘’Better?’’

‘’Much, thank you.’’ Sam’s hand came down and smoothed over your stomach feeling for the kicks, ‘’He is moving a lot today.’’

‘’After keeping me awake most of the night you’d think he’d be tuckered out.’’

Sam hummed; ‘’I know but you’re handling it so well, love that you’re so strong.’’

You could have stayed lied like this with Sam all day it was one of the things that made the pregnancy a little easier. Being cradled in Sam’s arms as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, was perfect.

He ran his hands down your arms as he sat up a little bit, ‘’As much as I’d love to sit with you all day I’m afraid we did promise Dean we’d go and see him.’’

Letting out a groan, ‘’You’re gunna have to help me sit up.’’

Sam slipped out behind you before he helped you up into the sitting position, ‘’God I feel like a turtle on its shell.’’

‘’A cute turtle though.’’

You mocked glared, ‘’Better than being a huge ass moose.’’

‘’A handsome moose.’’

‘’Shut up and get in the car.’’

When it came to getting mother henned you didn’t know who was worse out of the Winchester family; but Dean came up high on the list. You remembered the day clearly when you and Sam announced that you were expecting, Mary straight out burst out into tears and you even caught John crying in the kitchen and promised not to tell a soul.

Dean on the other hand didn’t cry but slowly made his way over with a shocked look on his face, placing his hand ever so gently on your stomach. Asking; ‘’I’m going to be an uncle?’’ Over and over almost hysterically before he finally believed you, that’s when he broke out into a massive smile. He almost crushed you when he brought you in for a hug before he pulled away almost as if he’d been burnt panicking because he thought he’d hurt the baby. You still laugh about it to this day.  

‘’I’m hungry.’’

‘’You’re always hungry.’’

‘’I’ll have you know that I am carrying a baby inside of me.’’

Sam huffed a laugh taking one hand of the steering wheel to place a gentle pat on your stomach, ‘’So what does he want?’’

You sat back and through for a moment you defiantly wanted something cold and crunchy, ‘’Ice pops, the ones that are long and wrapped in plastic.’’

‘’Okay, ice pops it is.’’

Sam had long since stopped questioning your cravings it only took one question and you ended up flipping on him. He pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket and forever the gentlemen helped you out of the car and kept his arm wrapped around you as you both walked.

‘’So, any flavors you want?’’

‘’I’m not fussed, I just want ice pops.’’

The two of you were stood in the freezer aisle looking for the ice pops that you wanted; Sam was rubbing your lower back as the ache started blooming once more. ‘’I want those ones.’’  You pointed at a box of ‘Mr Freeze’ ice pops, and Sam reached up and grabbed a box.

‘’Grab another two more just to be sure.’’

Sam looked gob smacked for a moment the box already had twenty inside but he obediently grabbed another two boxes. You held one box close to you debating whenever or not to rip it open and start devouring them.

‘’I’m sure you can wait another five minutes.’’

‘’Oh, son you have no idea.’’ An unknown voice spoke up from behind you and you both turned around; there was an older woman wearing the regulation supermarket uniform, ‘’No craving can wait believe me I’ve got two kids. So, you can open the box sweetheart.’’

With that you ripped open the box picking out a cola flavored ice pop; the first bite felt like heaven the crunch was satisfying. The woman smiled, ‘’I best get back to work now but I must say that you two are the cutest and I hope everything goes well.’’  

You thanked her and the two of you went to paid for your items, even the cashier gave you an all-knowing look.

On the way to Dean’s apartment you had already eaten five ice pops which you were already starting to regret as the pressure that was on your bladder was ready to burst. You were shifting on the spot as you stood in the elevator, ‘’Can this thing go any slower?’’

Sam chuckled, ‘’I did tell you to slow down on the ice pops when we were in the car.’’

‘’I will hit you.’’  

When the elevator doors opened, you rushed out waddling your way to Dean’s door and without even bothering with knocking you opened the door and quickly made your way inside, completely walking passed Dean who was standing in surprise.

Sam was laughing at the confused face of his older brother, ‘’She really needed to use the bathroom.’’

Dean just smiled and brought his brother into a hug, slapping him on the back a few times; ‘’How are you Sammy?’’

He grinned wide and bright, ‘’I’m good, what about you?’’

‘’I’m great.’’

Sam had noticed that Dean’s mood had increased when the news broke that he was going to become an uncle; he’d cut down on his drinking and even started to eat a little healthier it came out of the blue but Sam never mentioned anything to his brother, not wanting to embarrass him.

When you came out of the bathroom Deans attention moved automatically to you; ‘’Well look at you.’’

‘’Shut up, Dean.’’ He wrapped his arms around you being careful of your stomach, ‘’Nah sweetheart, you’re glowing.’’ When he pulled away his hands went straight for your stomach, ‘’How is my nephew treating you?’’

‘’Like a punching bag.’’

Dean let out a chuckle before he crouched down so his face was level with your stomach hands still tenderly placed here; ‘’Kicking your mama isn’t very nice.’’ As if on cue the baby kicked out his feet pressing against Deans hands.

‘’You’re going to be a bad influence Dean Winchester.’’

‘’I haven’t done anything!’’ He looked offended and got back up standing tall, ‘’Every time you’re in the room he gets excited and likes to kick my kidneys!’’

Dean looked over at Sam with begging eyes but he was chuckling, ‘’Nope, can’t help it’s true.’’  

‘’I’m gonna be the cool uncle.’’

You playfully smacked Dean on the shoulder, ‘’Don’t you be giving him any idea’s Winchester.’’ The older brother let out a laugh and took you by the hand leading you over to the chair were the cushions had been plumped; they looked brand new, ‘’You spoiling me here Dean?’’

‘’Hey, you’re carrying my nephew and I want you to be comfortable.’’  

The cushions were very comfortable and molded to the shape of your back giving you the optimum comfort, you looked over at Sam and made grabby hands for the ice pops that he was holding onto. He handed them over with no protest and put the unopened boxes into Dean’s freezer.

Conversation was steady you chuckled at the banter that was being thrown between the brothers; absent mildly you rubbed at your belly; sat crossed legged on the car and swaying slightly from side to side, content with knowing that when the baby was born and he was growing up he had two strong role models. If you really sat and thought about it he would have more; he would be surrounded by a large and loving family.

Sam was watching you out of the corner of his eye a dimpled smile breaking out on his face; despite the ups and downs that you had with pregnancy, you were glowing and small moments like this is what made Sam fall in love with you even more. You had your fears that was a given but you were overcoming them as the days went on, you’d always been fiercely determined with anything that life threw at you.

He had no concerns when it came to raising his son; especially with you as a mother there was no doubt in his mind that his son would grow up into a well-adjusted adult, with you as his mother, a woman who was strong.

The ice pops where slowly disappearing as the conversation flowed included the many trips to the bathroom. This was one of the many different things you weren’t going to miss about pregnancy in the slightest. That and the constant battle of fighting back against stretchmarks as well as the weird cravings and the forever boxing match going on inside you.

‘’We best get going, it’s getting late.’’ Sam smoothed his hands over his legs before he stood up to help you out of the chair. Dean gave you both a hug but once more his hands lingered on your stomach, ‘’You take care you hear?’’

‘’Don’t worry Uncle Dean, we’ll be fine.’’

Dean smiled, ‘’Uncle Dean, still sounds so surreal.’’

‘’One day you’re going to want him to stop saying it.’’ You smiled back your hands covering his, his smile became impossibly wider before he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, ‘’Never.’’

~*~

Seven months.

Ah, the second trimester.

With this came another thing you didn’t like; swollen feet.

You groaned when Sam’s thumb pressed into the arch of your foot, ‘’God Sam.’’

‘’Good?’’

‘’Very.’’

His hands must have been blessed by the God’s or something; he was an expert when it came to a massage and even more so when it came to touching you intimately. Speaking of which there was something else to add to the list. An increased sex drive.

‘’Sam.’’

From the tone of your voice alone the pupils in his eyes widened, ‘’Yes?’’

‘’Please.’’

Sam is up on his feet and picking you up as the word leaves your lips; your too preoccupied mouthing at the side of his neck. You’d been warned that pregnancy could do this, but you weren’t expecting it to hit this hard.

Your placed down on the bed delicately; ‘’Come on Sam.’’

His eyes don’t leave yours as he kneels on the bed and pulls down your leggings and panties down swiftly. He doesn’t take your shirt off, but he does push it up to expose the swell of your belly. ‘’You look good like this.’’

Sam gives you a crooked smile as he leans down and presses his lips against yours for a slow kiss, you whisper his name again when he pulls away. He massages your legs open and pushes them up, so your knees are bent; feet pressing into the bed. His thumbs pressing swirls into your inner thigh, you whimper when you feel the air touch the wetness at the crux of your thighs.

He slides a pillow under your lower back to help with the pressure; arching you and presenting you to him. Sam slides his body down, adjusting his grip on your thighs to spread them; his breath is soft and warm against you making your hands clench the sheets. You can feel his hair on the inside of your thighs.

He places a kiss on the inside of one of your thighs and his long fingers parting your folds, ‘’So wet.’’

Sam buried himself between your thighs his tongue licked a broad stripes from the bottom to the top making sure to avoid your clit. Making you quiver, he gently weaved his tongue between your folds before he finally flicked his tongue over clit making you squeal.

He picked up the pace making sure to keep constant pressure of your clit making your writhe beneath him and Sam wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you in place and it seemed to increase the pleasure you were feeling.

‘’Sam, more.’’

He listened to your desperate plea and wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, hard.

‘’God!’’ You cried out, reaching for Sam’s head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugged until he gave a low groan that vibrated through you. That was all you needed as you through your head back letting out a silent scream, back arching as your orgasm crashed into you, gasping for air as Sam helped you ride out the waves of pleasure.

You don’t know how long you lay on the bed as you steadied your breathing. But when you opened your eyes you realized that Sam was laying next to you.

‘’Hey, you okay?’’

‘’Need to turn over,’’ Sam gently eased you onto your side and you can see that Sam is still hard his cock pressing hard again the fly of his jeans. Even with your increased sex drive with your belly it’s difficult to find a comfortable position.

You smile at him and reach for the button of his jeans, you undo it and reach inside; Sam turns on his back and spreads his legs wider. His cock his hard and heavy in your hand, Sam shivers when the cool air hits it.

Moving your hand in a fluid motion twisting your wrist when you reach the top; Sam groans hips thrusting to match your moments.

‘’God damn.’’

With one more twist Sam comes with a groan you work him through it until he relaxes into the pillow with a sigh. ‘’That was amazing.’’

You chuckle, ‘’Nap with me?’’

‘’Of course.’’

 ~*~

Eight months and three weeks.

Eight months and three freaking weeks.

You were so ready to give birth; baby was constantly restless keeping you awake at night; well that wasn’t a new thing but it had ended up getting a lot worst. Sam bless his heart was staying awake all night with you, spending most of his time rocking you gently when you were sat between his legs, your back to his chest.

This wasn’t even labour and it sucked; you could imagine how bad actual birthing out a human being would be.

Sam had now taken every precaution when it came to you; when he went to work, he sent you to Dean’s garage so he could baby sit you. That’s where you were on your way to now and voicing your opinion to Sam about it wasn’t doing anything.

Sam was turning into a typical helicopter parent, but Dean was even worse. He’d moved a reclining arm chair into his office for you, he’d brought the heavenly comfy pillows from his house and even had the fridge stocked with your favorite food and drink. He helped you out of the car wrapping an arm around your waist as you walked into the garage, greeting Garth and Benny as you walked.

‘’Hey there momma Winchester to be.’’

‘’Garth,’’ You hugged him as best as you could, ‘’How are you?’’

‘’Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’’

You smiled, ‘’I’m fine.’’

‘’You look ready to burst sugar,’’ Benny spoke wiping the oil from his hands with a rag, ‘’Any day now I’m bettin’.’’

‘’Counting down the days, talk to you later guys.’’

Dean’s mother hen senses were tingling as he came bursting out of his offices to usher you inside, ‘’Sit you look uncomfortable.’’

‘’I’m a week from my due date Dean, I’m in a constant state of uncomfortable.’’

Sam is chuckling at his brother’s antics before he kneels at the side of the chair, ‘’I have to go to work, I don’t wanna leave you.’’ You smile, ‘’I’ll be find my mother is watching me.’’

Dean makes an offended sound, ‘’Hey!’’

Sam stands and presses a kiss to your forehead, ‘’Call me if anything happens,’’ He puts a hand on your belly, ‘’You be good for your mama, you hear?’’

You pull him down by his tie to kiss him, ‘’Get to work.’’

‘’Yes ma’am.’’

~*~

Your sat as comfortable as you can get with a cup of tea trying to relax and Dean, well he’s busy playing tag with mini moose. He drums his fingers against your belly with a large goofy smile on his face that gets unbelievably larger when the baby presses back against his touches.

‘’You having fun?’’  

‘’He’s moving a lot today,’’ Dean mumbles as he watches your belly contort as the baby moves, ‘’Must be restless to join the world.’’

‘’It’s going to be any day now.’’

‘’Excited?’’

You nodded, ‘’That and terrified; I’m going to be pushing a tiny human out of me soon.’’

‘’You’ll do great, Sam is going to be with you every step of the way.’’

‘’No doubt I’m going to be throwing abuse at him.’’

Dean laughed, ‘’Well you are going to be giving birth to his child, he got the easy part of the process.’’

That part was true you remembered the night that you conceived, there had been plans for a child but not at that moment. Around that time, you and Sam had started experimenting in the bedroom; he tied your hands to the headboard and took you apart bit by bit; until you had overwhelmed tears rolling down your face from the pleasure.

Due to being in the throes of passion Sam had forgotten the condom but you were on the pill, so there was nothing to worry about, right?

Well, it looked as if your mini moose wanted to be born.

‘’Shouldn’t you be out their fixing cars?’’

‘’Yeah but you are my number one priority right now.’’

Dean forever the sweetheart whoever it is that bags his heart is going to be one lucky person. ‘’You’re going to be a great uncle.’’

‘’I’m going to be an awesome uncle,’’ He smiled cheekily, ‘’Anything you need?’’

‘’Pickle chips.’’

‘’Comin’ right up.’’

When Dean leaves it wasn’t surprising that Garth and Benny came to join you in Dean’s office of course he wasn’t going to leave you by yourself. Benny went to make you another cup of tea whilst Garth brought out Mr Fizzles. He had you to the point of tears laughing. Garth had always been good with children and with Mr Fizzles he was efficient in making gloomy kids smile.

You grunt when the baby kicks your ribs, ‘’You’ve had enough of my kidneys now huh? Gotta go for the ribs?’’ You rub at your belly hoping that the movement would soothe him.

‘’Isn’t that a good thing?’’ Garth speaks, ‘’Means he’s turned upside down into the birthing position?’’

‘’Oh, he’s moving alright.’’ If what Garth said was true, then it wouldn’t be long until it was time.

The smell of pickles was the first indication that Dean was back, and your stomach growled; Garth and Benny left to get back to work when Dean came through the door. ‘’I come baring gifts!’’

‘’Dean you are a wonderful human being.’’

‘’You’re making me blush here sweetheart.’’

The pickle chips didn’t last long when you got your hands on them and you probably looked like a starved animal the way you ate them but you didn’t care. When you were done you rub a hand over your stomach trying to elevate the pressure that was starting to build, no wonder with how fast you just ate.

When an hour passes, and the pressure starts turning into pain you start to worry slightly but push it to the side, you still have a whole week until your due and with all the baby books you’ve read you put the pain down to Braxton hicks.

It’s only when you feel a gush of warm water it’s when shit really hits the fan.

Nope not Braxton hicks.

You were going into labour.

‘’Dean!’’

He comes rushing in like a bat out of hell with grease smeared on his cheek, ‘’You good?’’

‘’My water just broke.’’

It takes a moment before it finally clicks and honestly it would be funny if you weren’t ready to double over in pain. ‘’Oh fuck!’’

‘’I’d get the cursing out of your system before your nephew is born.’’

‘’Shit, this is really happening? Fuck, fuck, fuck.’’ Dean reaches behind his desk and pulls out a backpack and slings it over one shoulder, ‘’Alright sweetheart, let’s get this show on the road.’’

He helps you up off the chair and when you stand up the pain shoots across your stomach and you groan. ‘’You good to walk?’’

‘’Yeah, let’s go.’’

When the two of you enter the main part of the building all eyes are on you, ‘’Benny you good to close the shop?’’

‘’Of course, brother.’’

‘’Great! Well guys the next time you see me I’m gonna be an uncle.’’

Simultaneous woops and cheers fill the floor along with courses of good lucks and you smile, your son is going to have such an amazing family around him. By the time you get to the Impala a sheen of sweat has started to build on your forehead.

As Dean slides into the car he chuckles to himself which causes you to raise an eyebrow, ‘’What?’’

‘’My baby’s gonna have a baby in her soon.’’

You roll your eyes but find yourself laughing – which is cut short when a contraction hit. You grip hold of Dean’s hand and squeeze, ‘’Sam. He needs to know.’’

‘’I’ll call him as soon as I get you to the hospital, I promise you,’’ Baby rumbles to life, ‘’Now let’s get going.’’

~*~

Sam is sat in a meeting none the wiser of what’s going on, he’s had an uneasy feeling since he left you with his brother. He just wants to get out of this meeting, so he can pick you up and go home. The meeting is dragging along slowly until Gabe burst through the door, scaring everyone half to death.

‘’Sorry everyone, I’m here for the moose daddy to be,’’ Gabe smiles, ‘’Just got a call from your brother, (First)’s water broke.’’

Now nothing scares Sam fucking Winchester he’s faced many different criminals in the courtroom and not an ounce of fear has ever got in the way, apart from right now. ''Fuck, fuck, fuck.'' In his haste to get out the room, he bangs his knee on the table followed by his toe on his chair; he somehow manages to put his jacket on inside out and then bolted from the room. He cursed blue streak at the elevator for being too slow, successfully scaring everyone around. When he finally got to his car he tumbled about with his pockets looking for his car keys his search left him empty handed.  ''God fucking dammit!''   ''You're going to have to watch that language of yours when the babies born.''

‘’Gabe?’’

The short man smirks, ‘’The one and only, you my friend are in no fit state to drive, come on I’ll give you a lift.’’

~*~

It’s been almost two hours since your waters broke, and Sam hasn’t shown up yet, Dean bless his heart is doing the best he can to keep you calm. ‘’Where’s Sam?’’

‘’He’s on his way sweetheart, he’ll be here.’’

Nothing much has changed you’re still in the preliminary stages of labour, contractions are spaced far from one another but when one hits it makes you feel like tearing your own hair out. Your ready for everything to be over.

When Sam finally does arrive, he rushes in looking worst for wear, his hair is disheveled and his shirt which was crisp and pressed only this morning is wrinkled and coming untucked.

‘’Hey, there was an accident and traffic came to a standstill,’’ You don’t care and reach out for him and he wastes no time crossing the room, ‘’How are you feeling?’’

‘’Better now you’re here.’’

You gasp when a contraction hits, hands scrambling to take a tight grip on your husband, when it subsides you relax back into the bed but don’t release the hold you have on Sam. Dean slips out of the room to meet Mary and John at the reception.

Sam sweeps back the hair that had fallen in front of your eyes. He looks at you with admiration sparkling through his hazel eyes, ‘’You’re beautiful.’’

‘’Shut your mouth,’’ You chuckle, ‘’You’re only saying that, so I don’t shout at you later.’’

‘’Maybe.’’

You both burst into giggles and Sam leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, ‘’You’re gonna do just fine, you’ve got this (First).’’

The moment between you is broken when your midwife comes in to check on you, turns out nothing much has changed. Your still in the initial stages but she tells you not to worry, labour is different for every woman. You could go into full labour in the next hour or it could take another nine it’s just a waiting game, and you don’t like waiting.

~*~

Twelve hours in and only eight centimeters dilated your ready to commit murder, from Dean being in and out of the room – until Sam banned him – and the midwife prodding and poking at you it was enough to drive you crazy. You grit your teeth together and let out a long groan when a contraction hit.  

You’re restless and the midwife suggests getting up and walking around a bit, apparently it helps with the labour and at this moment you don’t care if it’s a load of shit, you’ll do anything. With the help of Sam, you get up on your feet and waddle out of the hospital room. As soon as Dean and his parents see you, they are all up on their feet. Sam is agitated just as much as you are and snaps at his older brother.

‘’Boys,’’ John speaks, ‘’The both of you get to the canteen and eat.’’

‘’Dad –‘’

‘’Son, you need a break you’re getting antsy and it’s not helpin’ go get something to eat and drink with your mother, I’ll stay with (First).’’

Sam looks down at you and you smile at him stroking his arm, ‘’Go, I’ll be fine.’’

With a nod he places a loving kiss on your forehead and gives your hand a squeeze before he lets go and leaves. John holds out his arm and you slip yours into his, hand resting on his forearm.

‘’Let’s try and get this show on the road, shall we?’’

As you start walking you can feel the pressure in your lower abdomen and take it as a good sign, it’s a slow pace the two of you walk in but John doesn’t mind.

‘’I remember when Mary went into labour with Dean,’’ He speaks, ‘’I almost crashed twice on the way to the hospital and when we finally did I just threw my keys at some random person,’’ He chuckled, ‘’Poor guy near shit his pants.’’

You laugh, ‘’I can imagine.’’

‘’Mary had a long labour with Dean, almost sixteen hours and she screamed like a banshee; at me mostly. No wonder either, the boy was almost nine pounds.’’

You suck in a breath and cringe, ‘’Poor Mary,’’ He smiles, ‘’She said she wouldn’t have another baby but four years later she had Sam.’’

You hum, and John continues, ‘’I’ll be honest thought it was gonna be Dean gave us enough pregnancy scares when he was a teen to give me grey hairs.’’

You can’t help but laugh you’ve heard enough about Dean when he was younger, he was a wild child especially when he went to college. John takes a deep breath, ‘’Anyway, what I’m trying to say now is that it sucks now but in the end it’s gonna be all worth it, and you’re doing an amazing job. I don’t think Sam could have married a better woman.’’

You bump your hip into his, ‘’What happened to the ‘no chick flick moments’ rule?’’

John throw his head back and laughs before wrapping his arm around you to bring you close, ‘’Hey it’s the birth of my first grandchild, I think we can let this time slide.’’

‘’I won’t tell if you won’t.’’

‘’Got yourself a deal, honey.’’

The moment between the two of you is broken when a contraction a lot stronger than the others hits, you grasp hold of John and hang on for dear life. ‘’Get Sam,’’ You pant, ‘’I think it’s time.’’

~*~

After just over thirteen hours of labour your baby boy lets out his first cry as he enters the world. Sam who hasn’t let go of your hand through it all cries along with his son, who is placed into your waiting arms. You look up at Sam who is looking down at you in awe, ‘’You did it, I love you so much.’’

‘’Love you too.’’

For a short while your baby boy is taken to be cleaned up and weighed, the same goes for you. Sam left the room to tell his family and you chuckle when you hear Dean whoop loudly. It’s not long when your cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothes, your little boy latched snugly on your breast.

Sam can’t take his eyes away from his son stroking his finger lovingly across his face, ‘’I can’t believe it, we have a son.’’

‘’I know,’’ You coo when your son starts to get a little fussy, ‘’I think somebody is full.’’

‘’I think,’’ You look up at Sam, ‘’He wants his Daddy.’’

Sam cradles his son close to him when you carefully pass him to him, your little mini moose looks tiny in his father’s arms and it doesn’t take long before he finally settles. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see the very familiar blonde hair and green eyes of Dean hovering through the small glass panel of the door.

‘’Okay Dean you can come in.’’

The new uncle looks sheepish as he walks in, John and Mary followed closely behind him.

‘’Lookin’ good baby momma.’’

‘’Dean!’’

‘’What? It’s true,’’ He laughs, ‘’Now let me look at my nephew.’’

You watch as they all group together fawning over the precious bundle in your husband’s arms, Sam looks towards you unshed tears still in his eyes and breaks out into a beaming smile. You send one back in return.

After a long nine months filled with ups and downs, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Your son is going to grow up with a loving family, filled with strong positive role models. You relax and let the moment sweep over you.

You can’t wait to see what the future has in store.

[mantra4ia]

My Top/Bottom “10″ Moments of Avengers: Endgame [Spoilers Ahead]

In no particular rank…

The Good and the Legendary Moments (I had a hard time limiting it to 10, clearly there are more)

Cap’s “don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone” and Bucky’s reprise “How can I? You’e taking all the stupid with you…I’m gonna miss you.” He knows his friend well enough through all the years that he understands and accepts (and in that second, we do too) that Cap’s not coming back the fast way, that he’s chosen the slow path to the end of the line.

Sam inheriting the Shield from Rogers with Bucky’s blessing, “go to him.” Because Bucky knows that, even though they are the best of friends and fellow supersoldiers, Sam has kept an eye on Steve while Bucky was MIA, and that puts him in a reasonable position to inherit the mantle.

Post-snap “5 years later” we see Steve taking up Sam’s role as a group counselor, our first hint at the transition of roles later to come, capped off with Sam emerging from the portal with a timely “on your left.”

Hawkeye’s opening: the very real, personal, character driven moment in which Clint is with his family, and shortly thereafter the snap is dragged out of retirement kicking and screaming.

Tony’s and Stark’s intellectual interactions which began as animosity and conlcuded as a kind of mutual admiration “is this the one we win? / if I tell you, it won’t happen (almost apologetically because Strange knows what is about to happen and is letting it go forward anyway),” culminating with “I am Iron Man” and thunderous applause.

EVERYTHING having to do with Tony’s daughter Morgan. From her interaction with Jon Favreau aka Happy about cheeseburgers, to finding her dad’s suit mask, to Stark calculating time-travel while doing the dishes, then swearing, then swearing Morgan to secrecy, and most heartrendingly “I love you 3000.” Tony’s father-daughter relationship is one of those key character pieces that elevates this whole film from a Marvel capstone to a best picture.

Steve’s moment watching Peggy even though he never interacts with her, in 70s at the Pymm/Stark research facility. It’s the most poignant foreshadow of his destination to come. He doesn’t make that mistake twice.

Natasha’s character development. Five years later, even as she falls apart spinning her wheels about deep sea tectonic quakes, and she still cuts her peanut butter sandwich corner to corner as if daring “Nick” Fury to unsnap himself and say “no, let me show you how it’s done.” Two great insights into the depth of their familial relationship courtesy of the Captain Marvel film. Also a shout-out Steve’s subsequent offer to cook Nat dinner. Steve and Nat always carry great character moments, all the way back to CA:WS when she was setting him up on dates.

The small moments of battlefield humor that were just enough not to break the moment: Steve calling out to Parker “Hey Queens,” Peter engaging the Spidey suit kill mode and then him curled up in the fetal position, Wong’s deadpan “were you expecting more?” Jesus, just give Wong an entire act in the next Doctor Strange movie and I will be happy. I adore him. PS: what a pleasant surprise the way the Russos put Tilda Swinton in as Sorcerer Supreme opposite Banner. That was just the right character for the exposition on the perils of altered reality.

The overarching theme of premonitions as it deals with crossing through the quantum realm into the past, and the ensuing parallels from what we’ve already seen in the Marvel past. Specifically the ‘premonitions’ that past-Nebula had when future Nebula past through time and how they could access each others memories, which puts the interesting and poetic possibility that Tony’s dreams/visions this whole time (ex: Infinity War’s “[Pepper] we had a kid, it was so real”) were never a direct result of Thanos, but rather his travel through time. The Time Travel element also relates to parallels where Howard Stark meets “Howard Potts” and the potshots at his questionable beard. Tony meets Stark Sr. at the exact right moment when Maria is expecting and they relate to the perils and joys of fatherhood: “there’s no manual for this/ there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this kid / you did your best”, which sets up Howard’s video journal to Tony and Tony’s post-battle video journal to Morgan as even more powerful together, in the context of each other, then when we saw the original Iron Man films. Endgame brings new depth / meaning to those historic moments.

Honorable mention to Thor who, after the “I aimed for the head” reprise, developed a sense of crippling anxiety and notable weight gain within his depressive reclusiveness, and still managed to suit up and be a hero anyway. While I didn’t necessarily like the fact that Thor dealt with his PTSD through hardcore gaming, I like the direction that the Russo’s steered him after subsequently calling him an “Angel Pirate” in Infinity War. The message, by contrast, that you don’t have to look a certain way, or step into the role that everyone expects of you (King of Asgard), or even have your shit together to be heroic - you just have to step your foot out of the door and face the day - is damn brilliant.

Honorable mention #2: Rocket’s speech to Thor “you’re not the only person to have ever lost someone.” Great BroTP, with tha dash of crossover Whovian.

Honorable trifecta: Steve Rogers wielding the Mjolnir and FINALLY. FIN-A-LLY “Avengers: Assemble!” What great standing ovation moments.

OVERALL: What this film misses in building the tension (it cycles down before it revs up), it makes up for by setting up the small, poignant character moments that show off the emotional talent of these actors in a way that I’ve never seen with this impact before: Infinity War, Black Panther, and Civil War being the runners up.

The Disappointing:

The “Smart Hulk” / Ant Man “little man” gag didn’t work for me. The autographs, the tacos, the test time travel run. It got stale very quickly.

Speaking of Ant Man, by contrast to Tony and Morgan, Scott Lang’s reunion with his daughter after 5 years didn’t hit the emotional note it was meant to. It make sense how they use Lang as perspective of “what’s going on / fish out of water” to drive the aftermath of the snap home and to introduce quantum science. But out of all the characters, I was probably least invested in him.

The female-led gauntlet scrimmage in the final act across the battlefield felt like more of a “set piece” rather than really earned emotion by comparison to Infinity War’s female tag team (Okoye, Nat, and Wanda) against Proxima, where Nat defends Wanda and says “she’s not alone.”

I didn’t like the script choice of killing the complex, Infinity War version of Thanos so quickly (while it was unexpected and paid off big time for a hot second when Thor’s said “I aimed for the head”) and taking on Past-Thanos. For me, it undermined and underdeveloped the villain. I would have wanted a deeper understanding of “The Garden” and flashbacks to Titan or young Gamora, or even more interaction between him and his daughter present-Nebula, before the war-torn Thanos gets the 1-2 chop, but I understand the choice given time constraints of a three hour film.

Hawkeye’s ronin montage: his revenge against criminals in the post-snap era, “why are you here, why did you get to survive and my family didn’t?” could have had the ability to be powerful, especially considering that Natasha has been keeping tabs on him and didn’t intervene until critical mass. But instead, I feel like it was mishandled, too thematic, it takes your out of the moment like a set piece.I loved Natasha’s bond with Clint up to and after the ronin sequence, it took two characters that I was on the fence with and got me emotionally invested in them as a team, I just hated the montage itself.

No Vision? What?! Hardly even a mention in this film except for Wanda’s wrath when she is resurrected and brings that house down on Thanos, but even then Thanos essentially said “who the heck are you and what did I do to make you mad?” completely taking the steam out of Vision’s fall. Hopefully Phase 4 addresses / fixes that.

No Loki resurrection? At the very least, no past-Loki dialogue?! Come on. I thought for a second, when Loki escaped STRIKE custody in the alternate timeline with the tessaract, that maybe the team had created a and untrimmed time branch (I still think they did, because if Rogers returned the Stone to 1970, it doesn’t fix the later botched attempt to steal it, so maybe there’s a branch reality where Loki is alive with witty trickster lines and I’ll cling to it). Then I was fooled again when Mjolnir went flying through the air I thought perhaps that Loki Odinson had returned and was worthy to wield it through his selfless sacrifice (I was only momentarily disappointed / awed to see it was Cap instead). Again, Phase 4, give me some help here!

The fact that Black Widow got no proper funeral sendoff, concluding Natasha’s long history of under-use throughout the entire Infinity Saga. Don’t get me wrong: I understand her soul stone sacrifice, and in a way I understand the people who say, “don’t take that away from her, it’s powerful.” It is. She comes from a manipulative, violent background that made her who she is and good at what she does. Throughout her history, she never had family, which she admits: “Red Skull knew my father’s name, that’s more than I ever did.” So it makes the choice more poignant that she built a family around herself and did whatever it took to keep them safe and united. That said, I wasn’t (until this film) necessarily invested in Black Widow like I am the other Avengers characters, but she’s had some great moments with Clint (I still want to see the Budapest mission, and the Iran extraction that Bucky compromised) and Rogers (Endgame: I’ve been telling everyone to move on, but not us. Winter Soldier: their getaway from Hydra-infested SHIELD) and Fury. Which is why I HATE that her only tribute was a bunch of men standing around lamenting over her (while simultaneously being oblivious to the Nebula swap, seemingly incapable of intelligent script development by McFeely and Markus around those two female characters). It would have at least been fitting if they had more regrets “why didn’t we know her better, we were supposed to be her family”, “why didn’t we appreciate her while we could” or her name added to an altered  “fallen” monument. There was no payoff to her chemistry with Bruce, and no final closure with un-dusted Fury to pay his respects, which would have been a small but vastly fitting gesture. WHAT A WASTE. 

Captain Marvel’s use in the film as essentially a ballistic, ship-destroying missile and her anticlimactic Thanos battle. Why use her at all in this film if it’s going to be as a plot device? She could have had potential opposite Thor, and I’ll argue that she should have been Banner’s tag-team person to bring him out of new-Asgard exile. But the Russos and writing team missed that opportunity as well. Danvers’ appearance felt hollow.

The pacing / cycle down of tension post-opening sequence was off-putting to me. I was revved up to level 10 ready to go to 11, but had to dial back down by half (ex: even though I love the montage of Tony and Nebula playing table football, it crawls by comparison to the expectations set right after Infinity War). The tonal shifts between the three acts of Endgame made me feel like I was watching two good films as opposed to the one great, legendary film I was expecting. Perhaps I came in to Endgame too pumped and needed to be more in the moment, because this displaced feeling was very strong on initial viewing, but faded the second time I saw the film.

Honorable mentions: Parts of the alternate reality “time travel” sequence really bothered me: ie the battle of New York (from A1). Hulk smash didn’t work for me, though Hulk “take the stairs” and Stark’s minor cardiac dysrhythmia corrected by Thor’s hammer were funny. Also Cap’s “I found Loki” was priceless. So I guess you have to absorb the disagreeable montages of time alterations to enjoy the good, like Banner and the Sorcerer Supreme, Howard and “Howard.”

Honorable mention #2: This movie did a hell of a job at all the couple / BroTP splitting, WTH! Steve and Sharon never stood a chance, Wanda and Vision, Banner and Natasha, Steve and Bucky, Steve and Sam, Thor and Loki, Gamora and Quill. Dammit, I hope Phase 4 at least patches up a few holes in these ships before sending in the speculated new ensemble of comics characters.

In SUMMARY: as my dislikes wane with time and my likes grow in retrospect with each saga part I rewatch, and each time I revisit A4 in theaters, I think that Avengers: Endgame, while not quite my favorite installment, will stick with me forever. What a decade! And my next great joy will be 10…15…20 years from now, when I get to meet a kid, let’s call her Morgan, who’s never seen an MCU film before and vicariously relive that first joy watching it with them. To the end of the line.

I can’t wait. 

[vennilavee]

fresh eyes

Pairing: sam wilson x poc reader

Summary: You’re a pharmacist in one of the busiest pharmacies in Brooklyn. When some of the Avengers start picking up their medications from your pharmacy, you know life is about to get infinitely more interesting.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of anxiety/PTSD

Word Count: 2497

A/N: Pharmacists never get any love! ANYWHERE- in books, in television, in fanfiction or anything lmao (maybe I’m biased). and also sam never gets any love so here we are.  I’m nervous for this cause I’ve never written Sam before, please let me know your thoughts! Enjoy!

12 hour shifts at the retail pharmacy were a walk in the park to you now, almost ten years after you had graduated from school. You remember when you were a fresh graduate and you remember how your feet and calves would ache from standing on your feet all day. You remember how you would always be hungry and you would end your shift with a pounding headache.

But now, you were a pro. You opted for comfortable shoes rather than stylish flats, you brought in enough food to last you the day, and you always kept cases of water and plenty of snacks in the pharmacy for you and your technicians. 

Most of your patients were well-mannered and kind. You had come to get to know many of them over the years. They knew you by name and whenever they came to pick up their prescriptions, they would give you a quick update on their lives and ask you about yours. They were almost like your family, in a way. You felt the ache when people sometimes moved away and stopped coming to your pharmacy. But of course, there were people who gave you an attitude when their medications weren’t ready or when you couldn’t get hold of the doctor for more refills for their medications. 

You gave attitude right back, though. In the beginning, you were afraid to. But then you realized that this was your house, that people shouldn’t talk to other people the way that they sometimes spoke to you. With their profanities and raised voices. So you gave the attitude right back, and you quickly became known as the pharmacist who would take no shit from anyone. You had thought that corporate would come down on you hard for being firm and feisty, but it was quite the opposite. 

You were the only one who had lasted this long in this particular pharmacy, and it was a title you wore proudly. This job made you get a thick skin and taught you things about empathy that you thought you already knew. 

Your staff was a godsend- always helpful, ready to take charge when necessary. They were like your family, too. You even hung out sometimes outside of work, when your schedules matched up.

Your pharmacy was busy almost all the time and Mondays were often the worst. Phones would be ringing off of the hook, people would be coming in and out. But you thrived in well-organized chaos. Because that’s what it was- despite all the noise, you were calm and level headed.

You think nothing of it while you verify prescriptions for Steven Grant Rogers. That was a common name, right? And then you verify prescriptions that a psychiatrist has called in for James Buchanan Barnes and Sam Wilson and you know this is not a coincidence. Your technician squeals in excitement- “do you think the Avengers will come here to pick up their meds?!” You scoff, because there’s no way that the Earth’s mightiest soldiers are going to pick up their medications at your pharmacy. Surely Tony Stark has his own personal pharmacy in that obnoxious tower that sat in Manhattan?

You are curious, though, at the medications that they’re taking. Some part of you is glad that they are treating their PTSD and anxiety appropriately, when you see the prescriptions for paroxetine, sertraline, and fluoxetine. You’re benignly proud of them for getting the help they needed. Your heart clenches at the thought of all the things they’ve gone through over and over and over again. 

You sincerely hope they stop by.

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes walk into the pharmacy and they’re both pleasantly surprised when nobody recognizes them. Or if they do recognize them, nobody says anything. They’re greeted with eager smiles and starstruck eyes, that they return.

Bucky picks up a pack of peanut M&Ms and Reese’s peanut butter cups before following Sam to the back of the store, to the pharmacy. There’s a line of three or four people, waiting to be called upon. The pharmacy must be short staffed today, because he sees you running back and forth from the computer inside the pharmacy to the bins behind the counter and helping patients as quickly and efficiently as you can. 

Sam watches you curiously when he sees your smile fall and your lips set into an annoyed line. 

“Can I speak to the pharmacist, please?” The woman in front of them asks you, ignoring your white coat that has pharmacist emblazoned in black print.

“I am the pharmacist,” You say, not bothering to keep the bite out of your voice.

“Oh, but you’re so young,” The woman says quickly, “I was expecting someone... else.”

You want to say, “were you expecting someone that didn’t have brown skin?” But you refrain and physically bite the inside of your cheek. The woman asks you about refills on a medication that she wants to pick up, and you tell her that you were unable to fill the medication because the doctor had not sent over the prescription.

And then she raises her voice at you, her eyebrows furrowing in irritation. You sigh and take it, allowing her to use you to get her frustrations out. Because it was your fault that her doctor didn’t send over her medications, right? 

Sam watches you grow almost bored at the interaction. You even play with the ends of your curly hair and push up your glasses, and he can tell you’re raring to roar back at her for raising her voice at you.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to stop you right there. I can contact your doctor for you about the script, but I can’t fill something that I don’t physically have,” You say calmly, but Bucky and Sam can hear the venom on the tip of your tongue, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t raise your voice like that in my pharmacy.”

The woman sputters at you, as if you would dare to challenge her. She walks away, but not before timidly thanking you for contacting her doctor for her. You stop yourself from rolling your eyes as she walks away. 

“Hey, how can I help you today?” You turn the charm back on and give the two men in front of you a wide smile. As if you hadn’t been thinking of twenty different ways you could feign sickness and close the pharmacy early for the day not even ten seconds ago.

You feel your stomach drop to your feet when you realize that Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson are standing in front of you, with grins on their faces. You’re certain you look like a fish out of water, with your wide eyes and mouth opening and closing without any words coming out.

“What happened to the woman who told that lady off not even five minutes ago?” Bucky smirks at you while glancing at Sam.

“Yeah, cat got your tongue?” Sam teases. 

“Well,” You manage to say, “It’s not everyday I’m in the presence of greatness.”

You ask them to verify their birthdates before retrieving their prescriptions and try to keep your hands from shaking as you ring them up. You’re certain you’re drooling every time your eyes meet Sam’s eyes. He even winks at you when he notices your staring and you don’t bother to look away. Sam doesn’t miss you push back a stray curl behind your ear, or the way your lips curl up into a smile, or the way your eyes light up at him. 

Bucky stares at the interaction between the two of you and feels like he’s watching a moment that maybe he shouldn’t be watching.

“That was the most flirting I’ve ever seen between two people who hardly exchanged fifteen words,” Bucky informs Sam once they leave and are in his car. 

Sam pushes his shoulder and tells him to shut the fuck up before he shoves him out of the car and Bucky rolls his eyes.

Sam and Bucky start to become regulars at your pharmacy after that. You wonder why they venture all the way from Manhattan to Brooklyn, when there are dozens of pharmacies around the Avengers tower. You realize that they don’t all live at the Tower when you verify their prescriptions- Steve and Bucky live together in Brooklyn and Sam lives not too far from them.

You try not to feel too much like a stalker, but hey, it’s your job right? To make sure that your patients lived where they said they lived?

You’ve even met Steve. He was just as polite as you thought he would be, with a slight flair for sarcasm. You’re surprised by how quickly these three boys have wormed their way into your life in such a short amount of time. Despite your quick 5 minute interactions, you look forward to the next time you’ll be able to see them.

Your technicians are equally as starstruck as you were when you first met them when you told them to ring them up on a particularly busy day.

Bucky noticed Sam’s pouting that day. He wouldn’t shut up about how pretty he thought you looked, with your curly, black hair tied up and strands of it falling into your face, with your white coat and your quiet confidence. He wouldn’t shut up about how he wanted to talk to you, just to even say Hi.

“You just want to make eyes at her,” Bucky says in a sing-song voice later that day, “And you wanna love on her- you wanna take her out on dates, take her home, you wanna-”

“Dude, are you serious? Are you fuckin’ eight years old?” Sam rolls his eyes at Bucky and punches his shoulder, “Tin man thinks he’s got jokes, huh?”

“I’ve got more than just jokes, pal-”

Sam lets him punch his shoulder back and he thinks to himself well, he’s not wrong.

Robberies in pharmacies, especially in the city were pretty common. It had never happened to you, so you hadn’t really thought about what you’d do in the event of one. You had heard from friends and colleagues that people would come in and demand all the cash and all the oxycodone/hydrocodone/Adderall/Vyvanse/anything that could be sold on streets for a profit basically. 

You should have probably prepared for this, you think mildly, as the man in front of you at the counter demands for all the cash while waving a handgun in your face. He is demanding for all the oxycodone, Adderall, Fentanyl, and Vyvanse in your safe. You barely even register the thundering in your ears or the shaking of your hands. 

You had stupidly told your technician to go home early for the night, since it was a Friday night and Fridays weren’t usually that busy. You couldn’t even give a silent signal to let your technician know to call 911. You wished you had gotten that emergency button installed beneath the counter that would automatically dial 911 for you, rather than having to use your phone. Another stupid move on your part.

Your hands are up in surrender, ready to comply. But then you think, who the hell does this guy think he is?

Another stupid move.

“What could you possibly need all that for?” You can’t stop your voice or your lips from moving. You’re terrified and yet it seemed that you didn’t know how to act. He looks momentarily surprised at you. You’re glad that nobody else is in the pharmacy- it’s just you and the front employees who you’re not sure know what’s going on.

You could scream, you think. You could scream and you’d probably be shot in the face. You could try dialing 911 but then you’d still probably be shot in the face.

So the obvious solution is to be a sarcastic little shit. Until you got shot in the face.

“Are you stupid? You stupid fuckin’ bitch-” 

“Alright, relax. There’s no need for names,” You say, gulping. Maybe you should stop being reckless and just acquiesce to his demands. You make your way over to the safe where all the pain medications, Adderall, and Vyvanse are stored.

Sam can smell the tension and he knows something is wrong when the store is eerily quiet. Goosebumps raise on his flesh unwillingly as he makes his way to the back, where he knows he’ll see your smiling face and your dimples.

He’s come alone this time and he came near closing time because he wanted to talk to you. Maybe even charm his way into getting your number. He doesn’t actually need anything, although he told Steve that he would pick up some Claritin since his allergies were picking up despite his super soldier serum. Old habits never really died, he supposed.

A frown his on his lips when he sees this man waving a gun in front of your face. And you’re mouthing off at him, as if his threats don’t scare you. As if you’re made of steel. But Sam sees your hands shaking and your eyes darting around for someway to get help. Your eyes meet his and you struggle to hide your surprise, but you manage to do it anyway.

Tension begins to leave your body when you realize that of course, Sam is here to save the day. His warm, brown eyes make you want to trust him, and you do. You did, almost instantly the first day you met him. You can’t thank his impeccable timing enough and you watch Sam disarm the guy from behind him. He didn’t even see it coming and within seconds, Sam has the handgun in his own hands and the man is on the floor.

All Sam wants to do is beat him to a pulp for threatening you, for waving a fuckin’ gun in your face. But he watches you, standing there warily. You lock up the pharmacy and dial 911 to let them know what has just happened.

You make your way to Sam and don’t realize that you’re shivering. The man is staring at the pair of you with such contempt in his face. It’s weird to you, that you’re staring the man who threatened to shoot you in the face right in the eyes, but here you were. 

When the cops arrive at the pharmacy to collect the stranger, you’re left alone with Sam.

“Hey,” You murmur to Sam, “Thanks. For being a hero and shit.”

“Can this hero have your number?” He waggles his eyebrows and you can’t help the grin that breaks out on your face.

“I suppose my knight in shining armor can have my number,” You agree and press a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Walk me to my car?” You ask, leaving his embrace to gather your coat and purse.

This time, he’s the one who’s a little starstruck when you grasp his arm as he walks you to your car.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imperfect Little Demon

(x)

Summary: Dean is a demon and Sam and the reader have been attempting to cure him for two months to no avail. Dean’s getting out more often though and it’s only a matter of time before he finds a way out of the bunker for good. Can the reader and Sam figure out a cure or are they stuck with Dean as a demon forever?

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader (featuring plenty of Sam)

Word Count: 9,300ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, mild injury, threats of violence, kinda drugging, self-depreciation, mention of suicidal thoughts to alleviate pain, mentions of canonical torture

A/N: There are parts of this fic that are somewhat dark so heed the warnings (most of these are not described in great detail though)...

A/N #2: I missed writing Demon Dean and wanted to put a different spin on it with this...

“Dean,” you growled, his green cocky eyes on his brother, smiling at him while Sam held a blade to his throat. “What did you do?”

“Sammy and me were just playing a little real life whack-a-Sammy, weren’t we,” he said, shaking his head, eyes still locked on a panting Sam. “You don’t have the guts. Put that thing away Sammy before you hurt yourself.”

“Sam,” you said, ripping the blade out of his hands, holding it to Dean’s throat who shrugged as he glared at you. “Go relax. I’ll take him back to his room.”

“Oh, sounds kinky,” said Dean, your hand on his shirt collar turning him around, shutting his playfulness off. “Y/N, back off.”

“Watch yourself Dean,” you said, pressing the tip of the blade ever so gently against his pulse point, Dean’s breathing changing for a moment. “Good boy.”

“Stop it,” he growled, letting you walk him back to the dungeon, staying perfectly rigid as you went.

“Behave. Last time I nearly nicked your pretty neck when you started thrashing around. We both know how scared you got when that happened,” you said. 

“I was not scared you pathetic little-”

“I said watch yourself,” you said, changing the angle on the blade, letting the sharp point give the lightest cut to his skin.

“Okay, okay!” he said, an angry whimper grumbling through his teeth. “Don’t mess around with that thing. You might actually kill your precious Dean.”

“I was going to cook you a steak dinner tonight too before you went and escaped your room,” you said, walking Dean back into the dungeon, pushing him over the devil’s trap and stealing the lore book he’d managed to sneak in back. For someone who had always hated research, he sure was damn good at finding new ways out of a devils trap. Dean grumbled and sat down on his mattress, crossing his arms at you. 

“Can I please have steak for dinner?” he asked, forcing a smile on his face.

“Considering you tried to kill your baby brother...no,” you said. “You were being good too ya know.”

“What can I say, I get a little antsy sitting in here staring at the same four walls all day long,” he said, twitching his bottom lip.

“Yes, you’re so obviously being treated poorly, Mr. Demon,” you said, throwing your arms around. “It’s not like you have a bed and laptop and tv and books and booze and snacks and even a freaking bathroom Sam put in. We could leave you tied up in a hard ass chair all day with nothing so consider yourself lucky.”

“Aw, I hurt her feelings?” said Dean, giving you a mean smile. “Always was such a tough little thing except when she was around Dean. What’d you tell him? He made you feel safe with a big and strong guy around to take care of you?”

“Hey, genius,” you said, crossing your arms at him. “Maybe if you help us figure out why the blood cure didn’t work and how to get you human again, maybe you can go back to those hugs and kisses you liked so much?”

“Oh sweetie, the only thing I want your mouth wrapped around on me is my-”

“Watch the mouth or you can have peanut butter sandwiches for the next week,” you said.

“Oh, what awful torture!” he said, rolling his eyes. “I give it two days before you’re back in here with another book to try another cure that won’t work and I’ll get out again and I’ll hunt you two down again and it’ll be a whole thing again and-”

“Bunker’s warded babe,” you said, cocking your head with a smile, his face falling. “Good luck finding it. Until then, you can stay as strong as a pissed off three year old.”

“Still strong enough to take care of you and Sam,” said Dean with a shrug. “Better get going on that cure sweetheart. One of theses days, I’m getting out and I’m certainly not getting tossed back in here.”

“I’ll bring you dinner in an hour, demon boy.”

The next day felt odd. Sam had to run out for supplies, only home long enough to drop them off before Jody was calling, asking for backup on a case. You sent Sam off, knowing he needed a break from his brother, knowing you needed to have your nurture time with him.

You rarely did it when Sam was home but Dean had never mentioned it to him and you were fairly sure Sam wasn’t aware you did it at all. It wasn’t a secret but in a way it was. Dean wasn’t surprised when you walked in through the open door to the hall way around lunchtime, dragging a chair and then another in. You slid his roast beef sandwich over, chewing on your own as you took a seat. Dean quietly stood up from his bed and adjusted the tv so you could see, moving his big bean bag chair over close to you but that barrier keeping him from actually reaching out and touching.

You were midway through a comedy, both of you laughing when you caught him looking at you, something sweetly dangerous staring back.

“I can be good,” he said, glancing up innocently. “I can act like this outside of this room too.”

“Don’t do that,” you said. “Our relationship is on hold until you’re a human again, Dean. You know I can’t let you out. You’ll hurt me or use me to get to Sam and then get rid of us both.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind leaving me to finish watching on my own,” he said, his jaw going hard. “Please.”

You sighed, taking the plates and chairs away, Dean nodding a thank you for giving him some privacy. You knew his head had to be a whole lot of messed up and it hurt to see him fight not only you but himself at times. It was probably just a faint echo in the back of his head but you knew from the way he looked at you sometimes, how he let himself get caught sometimes...your Dean was somewhere buried deep down in there and he wanted the fuck out.

After doing a couple chores you passed by Dean’s room, catching him passed out in his bed, the tv going while he caught a nap. You figured you were due for one yourself and some nice and fresh sheets were the perfect thing to crawl into. In twenty minutes the dryer would be going off anyways and Sam would come home to a clean house for once.

“Oh no,” you said before you even opened your eyes. Your arms were behind your back, not that that was cause for concern. The fact you couldn’t move them or that you were laying on something cold and hard screamed your afternoon plans had gone horribly wrong.

“Now...I have to say, Y/N. For as careful as you are, you done messed up sweetheart,” said Dean, his hand patting your cheek making you groan. “Up and at ‘em.”

His hands on your shoulders tugged you into a sitting position, your eyes blinking open to find you were in the library, leaned up against one of the columns. Dean was sat in a chair across from you, twiddling the demon blade in his hands, laughing to himself.

“See...whenever you come in there and just hang out, I know Sam’s not home which makes this...well it makes it really fucking easy is what it does,” he said, chuckling when you tested the ropes on your wrists, finding them way too tight and already cutting into your skin. “The other part...you made me bleed. Not nice, Y/N. Not nice at all. It was barely a paper cut but...it was all I needed. I found a neat little spell in the grimoire. Get out of a devil’s trap free card but...and here’s the kicker...they don’t work on me anymore. Doesn’t that just sound really shitty for you?”

“Is this the part where you kill me? Or torture me? Or...bore me to death? I’ve had the enjoyment of being stuck with Lucifer. Trust me, you’re like dealing with an oversized kitten right now, bucko,” you said, doing a pretty damn good job of sounding indifferent to the whole situtaiton if you thought so yourself.

“Where is the warding that’s keeping me from leaving?” he asked, finally pointing the knife at you.

“Sorry, don’t have a clue,” you said with a shrug and a smile.

“You actually don’t, do you,” said Dean with a laugh, you face flickering. “Alright, I’ll hand it to you, that’s a little bit smart.”

“Well if you want to untie me I’m sure Sam would love to tell you when he gets home. In fact, I’ll go over to Jody’s and ask him and then I’ll be sure to come right back and tell you, okay?” you said, Dean pursing his lips, your own pouting.

“Or,” he said kneeling down, grabbing your hair until you whimpered. “We call him and if he doesn’t give me the answer, I’ll use every trick in the book I learned in hell on you. I wonder what’ll happen up here if I do it? I bet you wouldn’t even last until the fun stuff...or I’ll just use the grimoire and that little book of the damned and keep you going until-”

“Stop it,” you whined, Dean’s face faltering for a second. 

“If he tells me what I want to know, I promise I won’t hurt you,” said Dean, his grip still too tight but his voice softer. “The more scared you sound, the easier this’ll go.”

You didn’t say anything, Dean relaxing his hold until he was running a hand over your head, shushing you while the phone rang. The second you heard Sam’s voice on the other end, Dean’s hand clamped over your mouth, his finger tapping it onto speaker.

“Y/N? What’s-”

“Hiya Sammy,” said Dean, giving the phone a smile. “Y/N’s a little tied up at the moment but we sure were curious where you put that warding.”

“Dean, don’t-”

“Y/N, say hi to Sammy and I mean only hi. Understand?” he said. You nodded your head, his hand sliding over to cup your cheek. 

“Hi, Sam,” you said, the hand immediately back, a large huff of air spurting out of your nostrils, Dean ignoring you.

“She’s alive and as pretty and perky as ever. If you want to keep her that way, tell me where the warding is and I mean now, Sam,” said Dean. Sam was quiet on the other end, Dean staring at you. “Looks like he’s hanging you out to dry, sweetheart...I guess we’re finding out if your-”

“Garage, behind the red toolbox on the floor, near the garbage cans,” said Sam with a sigh. “It’s on the wall. Let her-”

“Thank you,” said Dean, ending the call, pulling his hand from your mouth to snap the phone in half. “Let’s hope he was telling the truth, huh?”

About five minutes later your butt was cold from the cement floor, Dean nodding to himself when he pushed opened the garage door and stepped outside, the warding holding him gone.

“Freedom, that’s nice,” said Dean, taking a deep breath, gaze going back to you. “It’s not fun being locked up, is it.”

“Are you gonna kill me?” you asked, Dean shaking his head. “Torture me?”

“I think I want an insurance policy right now until I can figure out where to lay low,” said Dean, your head dropping. “If you’re good, maybe I won’t need to keep you stuck in a chair either.”

“Just let me know when I wake up from this nightmare,” you said, Dean hauling you to your feet, putting you in the back of Baby and taking off without looking back.

Six Months Later

“Ouch,” grumbled Dean, your eyes blinking open to see him on the other side of the dungeon, his eyes furious. “What did you do!”

“I’m locked in here with you in case you hadn’t noticed!” you said, staring at your wrists in front of you, the leather bracelet that you’d worn for so long now gone.

“What did you-”

“She didn’t. I did,” said Sam, pulling open the doors, giving you a hard stare. “You’ll feel like your old self soon and Dean...you’ll feel like your old self pretty soon too I hope. The two of you are going to sober back up into your normal selves the next few hours and then I’m putting you both to bed.”

Sam gave you a little nod before he left, closing up after himself, your wrist covered in a nasty looking scar, your other hand squeezing over it. 

“Y/N, you got to figure out a way to get us out of here,” said Dean, your eyes spotting the chain around his ankle. “Come on sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to,” you said, cocking your head at him. “You’re...I thought...you...I’m going back to sleep.”

“Y/N. Don’t...Y/N...dammit Y/N!”

You woke up alone in an empty bedroom, Sam giving you a big hug when he came by a few minutes later. Your body had it’s will power back, Sam already saying he’d destroyed that thing Dean stuck on you months and months ago. Dean had quickly given up on you seeing things his way, preferring a bit of spell work to keep you what you could remember as being in a happy but fuzzy state. It wasn’t like you didn’t have disagreements during that time but you always quickly caved to him and figured you weren’t looking at things from the right perspective. You never remembered him hurting you or being afraid but there were times when you really just wanted to take him home to Sam and couldn’t.

“Sammy,” you said, his hand rubbing up and down your arm. “How’d you find us?”

“Took a bit of tracking down but I finally figured out he got his hands on that bracelet and that if I tracked it, I could find you both. You must be feeling a lot better, huh?” he asked, your head nodding. “We’ll talk more after you get some sleep.”

“Is Dean okay?” you asked, Sam’s pause making your stomach drop. “You didn’t...”

“The cure I have...it’s...think of Dean being at a center point on a line. One way is good, the other bad. The cure is going to...push him a little down the good, so less demon...but then snap him back bad so more demon. He’ll have to go back and forth until he gets all the way good again and he’s human,” said Sam.

“That...what?” you asked, scratching your head.

“He’s on the good right now so that’s a positive,” said Sam, rubbing the back of his head. “He just...needs to live in the dungeon a little while longer is all. It’s going to work. It’ll just take time and we both need to be very careful about him getting loose again.”

“Sam, how positive are you that this cure will work? Devils traps are no good against him anymore,” you said. Sam didn’t say anything but his eyes flickered down, slowly coming up with a pained expression. 

“It...might work...but probably not...I had to get you back somewhere safe again. I saw you guys on some gas station footage and you were sticking to him like glue. I knew he did something to you and had to get you home,” said Sam. “I’ve been more focused on making sure I didn’t miss you in a morgue than looking for cures.”

“I’m okay, Sammy. Not sure he actually has it in him to do that despite what he says. As far as locking him up again, that’ll have to be okay,” you said, nodding your head. “We’ll just have to ward the bunker and his room and that hall. That’ll help keep him put, right?”

“Warding plus the cuffs will-”

“No cuffs,” you said, Sam sighing. “No. Cuffs. It’ll scare him.”

“Your undying desire to treat him normally is sweet Y/N but he’s gotten out too many times and he’s going to be extra pissed off so I’m sorry but he needs to wear them for now. He can still run around his room and crap, just for our own protection, we need it,” said Sam.

“Fine. I’ll get him to do it,” you said, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress. “It’s less likely he wants to kill me right now anyways.”

“Please be careful,” said Sam. He pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket and handed them over. You slowly walked down to the dungeon area, seeing all of the warding painted on the walls there, more so in the hall just outside Dean’s room. Dean was laying on the floor, Sam seeming to have left the dungeon set up for Dean in your absence. 

“Well if you wanted to get dirty, all you had to do was say so, sweetheart,” said Dean, turning his head with a smile, resting his hands on his chest. He spotted the cuffs in your hands, shaking his head. “Not really in the mood for that though. Maybe later.”

“Dean, put them on,” you said. He shrugged his shoulders, wearing that big grin the whole damn time. He looked behind you at Sam, flashing his black eyes, Sam inhaling sharply.

“Why so scared, pup? Big brother won’t bite...” said Dean, snarling his lip up for a moment. 

“Put the cuffs on, Dean,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and sat up, holding out his arms. You tossed them at him, Dean sighing, snapping one on with a wince, the other with a growl. He panted hard a few times, shaking his head out at the sudden energy loss. “We’ll figure it out Dean.”

“I’ve been hearing that for a long time Sammy. Might be time to realize this is permanent,” said Dean.

“I’m going to research,” said Sam, turning and walking out. Dean stood up and walked just a few feet away from you, cocking his head.

“How about you be a good girl and let me out of these, sweetheart?” asked Dean, holding up his arms. “I know you weren’t on board with this.”

“You forced me to go with you. You deserve it,” you said. Dean dropped his arms, laughing to himself.

“You were being stubborn. Admit it, you like me like this,” said Dean, biting his bottom lip. “You’re very own demon on your side.”

“I’ll bring you some food in a little while,” you said. Dean scoffed and you unfortunately turned around, saw the dangerous green eyes staring back. 

“I said to let me out of these cuffs,” said Dean, stepping over the old devil’s trap, backing you down the corridor.

“I’ll be back,” you said, quickly getting into the hall and locking the door tight behind you. 

“Y/N, please,” you heard Dean mumble through the door. “You know me.”

“I’ll be back soon, Dean.”

Nearly two months had passed and Sam’s rubber band cure was a bust. Dean was agitated that he was stuck with the cuffs on most of the time but he was behaving. So much so, Sam thought it might be okay to leave him on his own while the two of you went off on a lead.

“Sam, I don’t feel comfortable leaving him here locked up by himself,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. He closed his laptop, running his hands over his face with a groan. “One of us needs to stay.”

“Last time he was home alone with you, he-”

“He won’t get out. I won’t go near him, I promise,” you said, Sam sighing, holding up his hands.

“Fine. But I swear, if I find out you even went near that side of the bunker...” warned Sam, your head nodding. “I know it’s hard Y/N but it’s not him. We’ll get him back.”

“Let’s hope fifty seventh time is the charm,” you said, Sam chuckling. 

A few hours later Sam was on his way towards Washington, the bunker warm and not at all sinister feeling for the fact you had a demon hiding away there. You kept your word to Sam that you weren’t going near Dean, letting him fend for himself on a few sandwiches and other things you made up and gave him before Sam left.

You took a long hot shower that evening, wracking your brain for some new angle you hadn’t thought of yet. Nothing came apart from a growl in your stomach. You wrapped up your hair in a towel and threw another one around yourself, padding down the hall into the kitchen.

“I was dying for grilled cheese,” said Dean, standing in the kitchen, munching on a slice wearing a big smile. Your stomach was falling and hit rock bottom when you saw the demon blade was on the counter behind him. “You were pretty distracted in that shower. You didn’t even hear me hide all your little weapons.”

“How...” you asked, Dean shrugging.

“Well, it’s only a wood door. A few good hits with a chair did it in,” said Dean, taking a big bite, moaning to himself. “I’m gonna make you one, this is delicious.”

“The warding,” you said, Dean shaking his head.

“There was an old bottle of cleaner shoved on one of the shelves in the back. Few wipes cleaned it away. The cuffs were from a bobby pin of yours. I picked it off you two days ago,” said Dean. He took out two slices of bread, buttering one side, layering a few different kinds of cheese before sticking the other side on, tossing it in the hot pan. “You didn’t eat yet did you?”

“No,” you said, tucking your towel in tight, Dean glancing back over his shoulder at you.

“Worried about something back there,” he said, your eyes scanning the room, Dean frowning at you. “You didn’t believe me when we were on the road I see.”

“Believe what,” you said, Dean humming, plopping a sandwich down on a plate for you. He carried it over with a smile, handing it to you.

“I want to have a life with you. Sam too. You’re my family,” said Dean, your hands resting under the plate. Dean backed away, gave you some much needed space, even if he looked hurt in doing so. 

“You...no, I don’t feel one bit sorry for you. You took me and basically drugged me and-”

“Yes. I am a demon sweetheart. My patience runs a little short these days. I apologize for that. Now I think I’ve been locked up enough and been good enough lately to show that I do feel bad about that. I just...you really don’t understand how much that blood cure hurts. You two keep trying it over and over and I was afraid it would happen again so I apologize for acting out,” he said, holding up his hands.

“You can shove your apology up your ass,” you said. “Get the hell back in your room, stay there, and maybe I won’t tell Sam about-”

“Mmm, alright, I understand our relationship will take some mending,” said Dean, crossing his arms. You thought about smacking him with the plate in your hands but his shot out first and grabbed it, setting it down on the counter beside him. “I guess you aren’t hungry then.”

“Why won’t the blood cure work? Why?” you growled, Dean taking a deep breath. He shot a hand out, gently resting over your neck, not squeezing, no pressure at all actually, but enough to make you go still.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s been almost a year, Y/N. It’s time you and Sam stopped and got with the program. This is the Dean you get now and I’m getting damn tired of being treated like some thing by you two. I’m a demon. Well guess what, you’ve screwed up a whole crap load too and I don’t see why everyone else gets special treatment over me. I was your boyfriend, your best friend, that random stranger you saved on the easiest hunt in the world because my stupid jacket got caught on a stupid hook and I should have been a goner. Why do you not give a crap about me anymore?”

“Is this your way of apologizing?” you asked, glancing down at the hand on your throat.

“Actually, it is,” said Dean, pausing a few seconds, your body waiting for those long fingers to squeeze.

It didn’t come, his hand sliding around to the spot between your shoulder blades, shoving you hard behind him. You stumbled to the floor, nearly losing your towel on the way. You lifted your head to see another man in the room, Dean throwing a punch at him, your eyes wide.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted as you reached your hand up to the counter, grabbing the blade above you. You tossed it over to him, Dean continuing the motion and shoving it through the man’s gut, sparks lighting him up before he collapsed. “Sorry for the bit of theatrics. I really needed you to not back up straight into his arms was all.”

“How did a demon...how...” you said, Dean shaking his head.

“Okay, I might have accidentally taken down a bit too much of the warding I suppose. You hit it back on and I’ll clear the rest of this place just in case,” said Dean, holding out a hand to you. You saw him sigh and fumble with his shirt, ripping off the flannel and tossing it to you. “Cover yourself up with that for now.”

You got up on your own, buttoning the shirt up tight, thankful for the length as you left your towel behind, Dean clearing hallways until you could get back in the electrical room. After a minute, the warding was back up, Dean moving around the bunker with efficiency, the rest of the place empty.

“Sorry, I didn’t...I didn’t mean to turn off the whole damn thing off,” said Dean, looking over at you with careful eyes. “You okay?”

“Was that a set up just now? To get me to believe you?” you asked.

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours. Why’d you stop giving a crap about me?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” you said. “I’ve been trying to turn you-”

“You can’t stand what I am now. Awesome,” said Dean, nodding his head. “No, it also wasn’t a setup. But I know you think so highly of me so it’s not that much of a surprise.”

“If our roles were reversed, would you believe me?” you asked. Dean bit his bottom lip, shaking his head.

“Tell me what I need to do to get your trust back. I’ll do it. I swear. I’m...Y/N I think I might be stuck like this for good. I don’t want you and Sam to hate me forever. I want us to be normal again. Maybe I won’t be able to interview witnesses or hunt the same way I did but I can do other stuff now. I can protect you and Sam better. We can make this work. Please give me a chance and if I screw up, lock me up. Please? One little chance?” he asked.

“Go to your room. I need to clean up that demon in there and think about this.”

“Y/N, I grabbed some beers and takeout on the way home,” said Sam, walking down the stairs a few days later. “Washington was another big ole waste of time. I’m at my wits end and...”

“Hi Sam,” said Dean, sitting at the library table, reading a book. You were already out of your chair, Sam barely setting the food down before his gun was in his hands. 

“Sammy, it’s okay, we’re...trying something new and it’s working so far,” you said, nodding over at Dean. “He just wants to be treated normal and it’s a lot easier for him to act like his old self when we do.”

“He’s a demon,” said Sam.

“You were addicted to demon blood. How many times did I get you clean? How many times did I help?” said Dean.

“Y/N, it’s a trick and you know it,” said Sam, gun still raised. 

“We came to a little arrangement,” you said, Dean tugging at his shirt collar, showing his anti-possession tattoo. “If he kills, or hurts, anyone with this mark, the one we all have, whatever he does to them...”

“You used that mimicry spell on it,” said Sam, dropping his gun. “That thing killed a god last time we saw it.”

“Strong enough to kill a god, strong enough to kill little old me,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “I’m on a tight leash. I get it. Just don’t strangle me with it.”

“You so much as accidentally bump into her in the hall, you look at her the wrong way-”

“Sam,” you said, pushing him away from Dean. “Dean’s been out for nearly two days now and it’s the best two days we’ve had in a year. This...this might be a good way of doing things.”

“Tight leash,” said Sam, glaring at Dean. “Let’s eat, demon boy. I’m starving.”

It’d been nearly two weeks of your mimicry spell on Dean and he was doing remarkably well. He was brash and couldn’t help from being a little menacing looking at times but he was helping with chores and organizing your research with you and Sam to make sure you weren’t wasting your time on anything old.

“Y/N,” you heard Dean say, knocking on your door one night. He normally went to bed before you and Sam as a demon so hearing him up this late was strange. You pulled open your door and he was grimacing, clutching his stomach. “Sorry to bother you but I don’t feel right.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding, his body already stepping inside and sitting on your bed. He was pale and covered in sweat. You put a hand on his forehead and he was absolutely burning up, his face and neck hot to the touch. 

“I promise, I didn’t hurt Sam, I didn’t,” he said, shaking a little as he wrapped his arms around himself.

“I know. You’re okay,” you said, laying him down on the bed. “Sam! Something’s wrong with Dean!”

You heard Sam patter down the hall, wearing a grumpy expression that softened quickly when he saw Dean curled up in a ball. Sam sat down on the bed, Dean groaning now, his nails digging into his flesh.

“Hurts,” Dean whined, his face scrunched up. Sam carefully put a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing up and down it, Dean nearly sobbing from the sounds of it.

“Did you eat something funny? Or...did you have a sore throat and you didn’t tell anyone or...does it feel like some demon flu? Do demons even get sick?” you asked Sam, his shoulders shrugging.

“Hell,” mumbled Dean, letting out a sharp grunt. “Make it stop. I’ll do whatever you two want just stop, please.”

“Dean, we’re not doing this to you,” said Sam, trying to shush his older brother. “What the fuck is going on with him?”

“I said stop!” shouted Dean, Sam’s body flying back agains the wall, your own getting pushed out into the hall, Dean howling on the bed as he felt the impact from you both. 

“Alright,” said Sam, standing up, clenching up his fist and popping Dean in the face. He went limp on the bed, Sam’s chest heaving as he glanced over at you. “He wanted it to stop he said.”

“We need to figure out what’s wrong. Now.”

“Hey, Dean,” you said, running your hand through his hair as he woke up a few hours later, giving him a soft smile. He looked nervous, blinking his black eyes away before squeezing them shut, trying to hide from you. “You’re okay now. You’re not in hell.”

“What?” he said, lifting his head up, looking at Sam who was sitting at your desk.

“My rubber band cure...it’s actually been working this whole time,” said Sam softly. “It’s just not that apparent to us because it’s happening to your soul. Tonight...you got snapped pretty hard to that dark edge, made you feel like you did when you were in hell, when you were being...hurt. Hopefully when you snap back this time, you’ll go full on human again.”

“If it doesn’t, I have to feel like I’m back in hell again?” he asked, glancing back and forth between you two. You turned back to Sam, frowning when you caught Dean’s face. You ran your hand over his head again, Dean shuddering into it.

“We’re going to stay right here with you,” you said, smiling at him. 

“I thought I was a no good evil demon,” said Dean, closing his eyes.

“Well even if you are, neither one of us can stand to see you like this,” said Sam, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ll stick with you, get you through this.”

“I don’t think I can do that again,” said Dean. “It’s gonna get worse.”

“We’ll be right here.”

Four days later Dean was helping wash the dishes when he doubled over, looking up like he wished you’d put him out of his misery.

“Sam! It happened again!” you called, hooking one arm under Dean, Sam coming in and helping you get him back to your room and in a bed, just in time for him to start thrashing.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this!” he shouted. “It’s like...it’s that last day, the day I broke and it hurts so bad. Please, you got to stop it.”

“Dean, you can get through it,” you said, Dean shouting, the muscles in his entire body so tense you saw just about every vein bulge out. He shook his head, eyes landing on the demon blade over on your desk. “No. You can get through it.”

“I couldn’t then,” he said. “Neither of you want me and I have a bad feeling this isn’t going to make me human. It’s making me stuck like this and you’ll go back to hurting me and...I can’t breathe...”

“I think he’s starting to have a panic attack,” said Sam, Dean sitting upright and shoving him away. He locked eyes with you, your body already moving to get the blade as far away from him as possible. You were out the door with it, Sam tackling Dean, Dean following you out of the room with a big bruise on his cheek.

“Y/N, just let me do this,” said Dean, backing you up in a dead end hall, reaching for the knife. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to. I won’t make you do that.”

“I won’t let you do this,” you said, kicking at the air vent on the ground, leaning down and chucking the blade in, Dean scrambling on top of you to get at it. “I am still right here with you, Dean.”

“It’s gonna break me,” he mumbled, slumping down, holding his body tight, Sam rounding the corner. “I’m a demon and you can’t fix it.”

“Okay, Dean,” said Sam, hositing him to his feet. “Back in bed. We got you.”

Dean shook and shivered and shouted for what felt like days in that bed, still asking for you to put an end to him but his energy to try another move on his own completely gone. Sam made you take a break after the third day, take a minute to forget about what was going on. It almost worked too until you heard him shouting for you.

“What? What’s wrong with him?” you asked, Dean sitting upright in bed, staring at his lap.

“It didn’t work this time either,” said Dean quietly, Sam sighing.

“Maybe it has to go one more time?” said Sam, Dean raising his head. He still looked in pain and honestly, like he was afraid of his brother. 

“Leave me alone. Both of you,” he said, laying back on the bed, tossing his covers over his head. Sam held up his hands, following you out to the kitchen.

“Why the hell is he acting like a...like a...I swear he’s like a toddler almost,” said Sam, your head shaking. 

“His head as a normal adult is screwed up. This...going through all the pain of hell again, being a demon and trying to go against that nature to be good, this cure that’s bending him back and forth in the blink of an eye...what if he’s right? What if it doesn’t make him human? What if it makes him a demon for good? We’ll have hurt him for no reason and he’s pretty close to terrified in there right now,” you said. “Which is ridiculous considering he’s a demon.”

“Y/N,” said Sam, rubbing his eyes. “I never had it in me to do what he’s asking. Why do you think every time he got out, he went after me? He knew I couldn’t do it. You can get that real cold look in your eye which makes it so hard to know what’s going on up there but I know deep down you wouldn’t do that to him either. We’ve got an emotionally unstable demon on our hands and no fucking clue what to do.”

“What if we turn off the mimicry spell,” you said, Sam cocking his head. “I don’t know how to convince him that we still care. Even if he’s stuck, we’re still here for him, right?”

“Of course we are,” said Sam, giving you a smile. “We’ll turn it off and give him a little while to get his head on straight. Or as straight as it can get.”

“Maybe he’ll even crack a smile,” you said, stepping out into the hall, catching Dean lingering by the doorway, looking away quickly. “Dean.”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” said Dean, glancing down as Sam cleared his throat.

“Feeling any better?” asked Sam. Dean hummed, refusing to look at either one of you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“You want to take a shower? Get in some new clothes while I put some fresh sheets on that bed?” you asked. 

“Why are you two doing that,” said Dean, slowly running his hand through his hair, like the simple task took up too much energy. “You don’t know what the cure is doing to me. I might try to kill one of you next time.”

“No offense tough guy but I think we can take you,” you said, Dean letting out a short laugh. “Do you need help in the shower?”

“I can do it myself,” he said, pushing off the wall, wobbling a little on his first step. You ducked under his arm and supported his side, Dean sighing. “I could use some help.”

“Alright demon boy,” you said, taking a short step forward, Dean following after. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

A week later Dean was panting in bed, a brief break in this next round of pain. He wasn’t freaking out this time though. Whatever small amount of trust he had in you and Sam to get him past this, he was clinging to it for dear life. 

“You’re okay baby,” you said, wiping the sweat off his forehead, Dean glancing up with a smirk. 

“I haven’t heard that in a while,” he said, coughing, reaching for his water. You helped him sit up and guide it to his lips, Dean sucking it down greedily. “This one feels different. I think we’ll know one way or the other after this.”

“I don’t want you to be scared about what happens if you’re a demon. Sam and I...we’ll take care of you,” you said. Dean nodded, turning his head away. “Starting back up?”

“Yeah. Might want to put your headphones back in. This one’s gonna...” said Dean, your music blasting in your headphones again as he gripped the bedsheets tight.

You slipped off your headphones in the middle of the night, resting your head on the bed and leaning over in your chair. Dean seemed like he was either having a long break or on his way over this thing. You could only hope for his sake it was over soon.

A large hand was rubbing up and down your back, softly going over your head at times, lightly stirring you awake. It was different than Sam’s touch but you weren’t the least bit frightened by this one.

“Hi Dean,” you said, blinking your eyes open, green ones staring back. 

“Hi,” he said, moving the hair out of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. 

“It didn’t work, did it,” you said, Dean smiling. 

“No, it didn’t,” he said, still running his hand gently over you. “It did something though. Something just feels different in me now. I want...I want you and Sam to try the blood cure one last time.”

“Dean, you need a break from feeling like absolute shit,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“This time I’m asking you to help me. I know it if doesn’t work, it’s not the end of the world. One last time, that’s all I’m asking,” said Dean, your face burying into the mattress. “I want to try one more time for you.”

“One more time.”

“Well...that was unexpected,” said Dean shaking his head as you took the restraints off his arms after giving him his last injection.

“We could write our very own lore book on you,” you said, Sam getting the ones off his legs, Dean still shaking his head. “Tell us again, Dean.”

“I don’t...I don’t feel like a demon anymore. I feel normal and...pretty damn fantastic actually,” said Dean, stretching out his arms. “But...I can still do this.”

One of the restraints that had been on Dean’s arm was floating just off the ground, doing flips and curls like a ribbon before it fell down.

“Your soul is perfectly pure and not an ounce of demon in sight. You kept the hardware for some reason though,” said Sam, scartching his head. Dean glanced back and forth between you, staying seated even when you both stood up. 

“So I’m not human,” said Dean. “Not really.”

“Yeah, you are,” you said, leaning down in front of him. “You just got a little devil side in you too. We always knew that though.”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” he said, swatting your hand away when you tried to hold his. “I’m still incredibly dangerous.”

“Led Zepplin is an awful band and their music deserves it’s own special place in hell,” you said with a smile, Dean pouting at you. “And your car sucks.”

“That is untrue and you know it,” said Dean, squinting at you.

“Now, Mr. Big Bad Demon, if you really were a demon, what would have done just now?” you asked. Dean pursed his lips. “Exactly.”

“But-”

“Dude,” said Sam, grabbing one of his hands, pulling him to his feet. “I guarentee Y/N during her special time of the month is far more demon than you are.”

“What was that Samuel,” you said, glaring up at him.

“Told you,” said Sam, Dean still not moving when Sam tried to get him to follow. “Dean, come on. We even made you a birthday cake for the one you missed last year. Please?”

“You made a birthday cake for a demon?” said Dean, rubbing the back of his head, his cheeks blushing for the first time in ages.

“We told you before. We don’t care what you are. We’re going to stick by you,” you said. 

“Maybe we’ll tease you about the demon thing every once in a while but even if you were full on demon, we’d still be doing this,” said Sam, ruffling Dean’s hair.

“Thank you. Both of you.”

You were just about asleep when a knock came at your door. You hopped out of bed, worried something had happened to Dean. Instead he was standing sheepishly at your door, rubbing his eyes.

“Are you okay? Do you have a fever? Your stomach hurt?” you asked, running your hands over his face, Dean chuckling at you.

“No, none of that,” he said, pushing your hands down. “I...I had a nightmare.”

“Oh,” you said, pulling him inside, patting the bed. He climbed on top of it, crossing his legs as you got back under the covers. “This is really old school for us. Pre-dating us actually.”

“I don’t think we’re dating anymore. I remember being told we weren’t a thing until I was human again and since I guess I’m not quite there all the way, I have to earn that back,” said Dean, rubbing his neck, looking anywhere but you.

“Would you be nice to yourself for two seconds, Dean?” you said. “Speaking of which, would you look me in the eye when we talk? You still act like you’re scared of me.”

“I don’t want...sorry,” said Dean. “Multiply my baggage from a year ago by a thousand and that’s where I’m at now.”

“Good thing I never cared about the baggage then, huh?” you said, flipping back the covers on the other side, patting it again, Dean hesitantly shifting his body to slide under them. You ran your hand over his head, Dean’s eyes fluttering shut. “What was your nightmare about?”

“It’s going to sound silly,” he said, leaning back against the pillows, turning his head towards yours.

“There’s nothing silly about a nightmare. You can tell me anything,” you said, Dean humming.

“I was a demon. A full on big scary demon and you were scared of me,” said Dean, your smile faltering. “Are you?”

“No,” you said, pulling him closer to lean on you. “I just get scared of you acting the way you did during the cure again.”

“And risk that ass kicking from you? No thanks,” said Dean, forcing his eyes open. “I will never do that or say something like that ever again. I don’t feel like that anymore.”

“I’m just glad that third time hurt less,” you said.

“Worst one actually,” said Dean, your head cocking. “I didn’t want you or Sammy to look at me like that again. I knew I was going to be alright, no matter what happened so even though it hurt the most, it was easier in a way.”

“We aren’t scared of you, Dean,” you said, smiling at him, his green eyes crinkling up when his smile reached them. “I missed that look on you.”

“I missed you,” he said, his smile slipping as he went to sit up. You shifted your arm around his shoulders trying to pull him back down. “It’s okay. I feel better now, sweetheart.”

“You always stay,” you said. “That’s the rule.”

“You really want me still?” he asked. “After everything I said and did?”

“I miss you waking me up with your snoring and tangling our legs up and your bear hugs in the morning. I just want to wake up with you by my side again, baby,” you said, kissing his forehead, pausing before you moved to kiss his lips.

“Stop,” he hissed, turning his head away, taking a deep breath. “You just...you did something to me just now. I don’t know what but...”

“Does something hurt?” you asked, Dean’s head shaking, his head rubbing it. 

“Look at me,” he said, blinking his eyes. “Are they black?”

“No,” you said. Dean spun around, grabbing your phone off your night stand and putting it on the bed, staring at it.

“It won’t move,” he said, scrunching up his face. “I can’t...the demon stuff, it isn’t working.”

“All because I kissed you?” you asked. Dean shrugged, the two of you hoping out of bed, heading into the library. 

You were flipping through pages and pages, Dean running off after a minute to come back with two cups of coffee, the two of you getting down to research. It was a few hours later, deep in the middle of the night when Dean burst out laughing.

“You have got to be shitting me,” said Dean, looking at you with a look of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re okay. Oh, we are so much more than okay.”

“What’d you find?” you asked, climbing into the seat beside him, Dean still laughing.

“It was a fear curse. On you,” said Dean, your face scrunching up as he showed you the text. “’The thing you love most will become what you fear most. Only loving the thing you fear wholly will remove the curse.’ Y/N, you kissing me...you love me still. No wonder the blood cure never worked or the other one...I wasn’t really a demon. The more I trusted you, the more you trusted me...the more you were falling for me again and the more I got better. I’m human. I’m me again.”

“My biggest fear was not being there for you,” you said. “Letting your demons win out.”

“I guess my inner demons decided on being a demon. Good thing I wasn’t a bug. You’d have squashed me,” said Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Oh thank god,” you said, giving him a big sloppy kiss. “I mean we we’re okay before but-”

“Kind of obvious you would have loved even a broken me at this point, Y/N,” said Dean, picking you up, heading off for Sam’s room. 

“Told you I’d never give up on you,” you said.

“I know,” said Dean spinning you around. “I love you, love you, love you. I don’t have to worry about hurting you or Sam now. Thank you so much for that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” you said, Dean humming as he kicked at Sam’s door.

“Sammy! Guess what!” shouted Dean. Sam ripped open the door, a gun in both your faces, Dean hitting the deck with you as Sam jumped.

“Geez, don’t sneak up on me like that!” said Sam, lowering the gun. “What? He turning into something else now?”

“Your big brother’s all human again. Turns out it was a curse on me,” you said. “I’m guessing it must have been from that witch hunt in Tulsa way back.”

“Still a little devil,” said Sam, tucking his gun in his pants, giving you and Dean a big hug. “Now do you feel better, Dean? No bull this time.”

“Yes,” said Dean with a smile. “A thousand times better. Whatever you two want, it’s yours.”

“We got what we wanted,” said Sam, squeezing you both too tight but Sam too happy to care at the moment. “And Y/N sort of wanted to go see a chick flick this weekend.”

“Sure,” said Dean, laughing against you. “If you want to take your rascal of a boyfriend out that is.”

“When’s the last time you were outside, Dean?” you asked. He shrugged, Sam quickly grabbing a couple extra coats from his room, the three of you heading back to the library and outside into the cool night air. You were already shivering two steps out the door but Dean took a deep breath, smiling to himself.

“I want to go camping soon,” said Dean, glancing back at the two of you. “And go eat at that new steakhouse that you two said I would love. And buy a big bag of gummy bears and just chow down until I get a stomach ache. A hunt, I want to go on a hunt in a couple weeks too, get my footing again.”

“We can do all of that, Dean,” said Sam. “Promise.”

“We should get back inside. She’s shaking like a leaf,” said Dean, wrapping his arms around you. “Great idea sweetheart. I needed this.”

“I need a blanket,” you teased, Dean getting the two of you back in bed within five minutes flat. He fell asleep easily, for possibly the first time in a year but your mind was in overdrive. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, nudging you with his head. “Go to sleep. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I thought you were sleeping,” you said.

“It’s not your fault,” he grumbled, popping open an eye. “Now cuddle your ex-demon please. He’s had a very long day, long year, and I’m very likely going to have more nightmares or cry at some point tonight so the closer you are, the less I have to move to hide away in you.”

“I kind of like this emotional honesty thing, a nice little change of pace,” you said, scooting close enough where he could pull you flush against his chest.

“My head feels like I just got off a very, very long rollercoaster,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t have it in me right now to act like the tough guy.”

“I’m still with you,” you said, kissing him, earning a smile that put your worries at rest. “No matter what version of you I have.”

“Always with you too sweetheart.”

@baconlover001 @emilymorgan1994 @jensenackesl @captainemwinchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @xfanqirlinq @anokhi07 @akshi8278 @fandom--shipper @xxwinchester-22xx

@zeusmyster @atc74 @aingealcethlenn @pillow223 @alilianamendez @dancingalone21 @smoothdogsgirl @docharleythegeekqueen @blushingdean @ayeeitsemry @jaelami @roxyspearing @kickasscas67 @gallifreyansass @untitled39887 @charliebradbury1104 @quiddy-writes @arryn-nyxx @poukothenerd @feelmyroarrrr @mrsbatesmotel53 @idalinette @evyiione @jayankles @samisimportant @maddieburcham1 @demonic-meatball @hey-um-misha @flufy07 @its-not-a-tulpa @whit85-blog @mrswhozeewhatsis @extreme-supernatural-lover @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @spn-ficfanatic

[tatooedlaura-blog]

The Madness of Punch

the series read as follows:

Superman … Monday … Cheezy Pouffs … Bacon … Stumbling … Trail Mix …  Punch … Friday … Preparation … Uncle Mudler … Normal … Backseat … Mudler-sense … The FBI … Unthinkable … Patience … Elephant Jokes … Cooking … Rickety Tables … Mr. Skimmer … Bert and Ernie … Midnight Confessions … The Moon … Bright Sunshine … Graying Skies … Darkened Night … Possibilities … A Thing with You … Humming and Thrumming ... Warped Cosmology

@today-in-fic

____________

MRI taken, fish fed, email answered, thumbs twiddled, Mulder phoned, brain picked by aforementioned phone call, groceries shopped for and mother retrieved, they headed to the appointment.

An hour later, they settled in the car, quiet for a moment before Maggie spoke ... 

amusement lacing every word that followed, “so, basically, you have polyps in your sinuses and vigorous sex will break the blood vessels in your nasal cavity?”

This was possibly worse than when she innocently asked her mother, after hearing Bill talking to one of his friends, what 69’ing was, “I should have left you in the car.”

“Oh, no, dear. Then I would have nothing to share at the card party Thursday.”

“Don’t make me make you walk home.”

Maggie moved her hand to Scully’s arm, squeezing it tightly, “honey, believe me when I say I am overjoyed to hear that the worse things you have are fatty growths and too much sex.” Moving on, she clicked her seatbelt, “now, do you think we have time for milkshakes before you need to leave for the airport?”

Key in ignition, dignity thrown out the window, Scully grinned the grin of someone with fatty growths and too much sex, “plenty of time.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder collapsed into guffawing giggles that left him gasping for air, “oh … good … God … shit, I can’t breathe … I would have given almost anything to have seen that.”

She shoved his feet over to make room so she could sit on the already creaking bed, “it was an experience but who really cares as long as that’s what it is. I’ll get the polyps taken care of when we get back and we’ll just have to have less vessel-breaking sex in the future.”

This sent him right back into laughter the likes of which finally had her putting her hand over his mouth, trying to get him to shut up given it was after 11pm local time and they were going to get thrown out of the dump that was ‘MeadowLodge Suits: Drive up, sleep in, get out’ if they didn’t quiet down. Yawning while she waited for him to calm, “by the way, I like that you didn’t even attempt to get two rooms, then lie about sharing.”

“Skinner isn’t an idiot. He’ll keep it quiet though and Dennis down in billing has been asking about us for years so he’ll shut up as well. Why waste money when we don’t have to?”

“Then why didn’t we stay at a better hotel with all this money we’re going to save?”

Mulder looked around the aesthetically unappealing mustard yellow décor, “what? You don’t like this?”

Moving to pull on pajamas, “just once, you’re going to let me book the hotel.” Once dressed, Mulder watching intently the whole 30 second process, she returned to the bed, “give me the five minute rundown, please.”

&&&&&&&&&

Case done by the following Monday afternoon, Skinner shipped them to Wyoming, mosquitoes the size of Scully eating her alive while they tramped the outskirts of Yellowstone, looking for a bank robber attempting to hide in the woods. At least this time, Mulder didn’t mention a nice trip to the forest.

As an aside, they traveled over the Old Faithful and shared a pizza in view of the geyser, Mulder, for what it was worth, snapping a picture of the top of the spout so he could show people how tall it was. Scully looked at him until he cracked, “what? I want to see just how many people give me that look before they either laugh me into oblivion or gently correct me in what they hope is the nicest voice possible.”

“You’re special, Mulder, you know that?”

Ringing his arm around her neck, he smiled as he kissed her temple, “just ‘cause I’ve got you.”

&&&&&&&&&

And suddenly it was the end of July, Skinner finally letting them home after varying degrees of cases and assholes and scary type fellows. Walking into Mulder’s apartment, he dropped their bags to the ground and turned to her, “it’s Thursday, Scully.”

“It is Thursday.”

“You know what Thursday is.”

“The day after Wednesday, last I checked.”

He could give her the Look like nobody’s business and she loved it, “I need some Punch.”

Shaking her head, she moved towards the bathroom, “call Mom and see when the festivities are happening.”

And he did and it was good.

In less than an hour, after a quick shower together and some general fooling around, which they had chosen not to do while on cases, they pulled up to Maggie’s, Mulder rushing up the walk and inside, leaving Scully behind to lock the car and be amused.

She found him breathing deeply the scent of homemade cooking and motherly love, grinning like the proverbial idiot. Maggie was already walking slowly towards the pair, boots gone, braces on, crutches present. Mulder hugged her the moment he could, Scully following soon after, “how are the ankles?”

Looking at her daughter, “it feels strange and I’m nervous without the boots but the end is in sight and that’s something.”

All moving into the kitchen, the ladies greeted them as if returning from a three-month long expedition, Betty going as far as declaring how much they’ve grown since they last saw them. Scully hugged her, “Mulder needs punch.”

With a grin, “we already have two glasses ready and places for you at the table.”

Mulder studied the seating arrangement, “why are we not next to each other?”

Janet, piping in as she shuffled Roswell cards courtesy of Mulder’s kitschy souvenir binge on vacation, “because, from what I recall, the punch makes her floppy and we need someone who can handle their liquor to catch her.” Pointing the deck at him, “that, my friend, is not you.”

He really couldn’t argue.

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully was asleep on the table by 9:18pm, head resting comfortably on the wood surface, the game happening around her, Lillian tucking her hair out of the way whenever it drifted across the playing area.

Mulder, on the other hand, somehow managed to hold total punch annihilation at bay even though total inebriation still occurred, his plan of one gulp of water for every two sips of punch failing miserably. His tongue was blue as midnight, which he continually shared roughly every 5 minutes and Betty, beside him, had to keep gently nudging his cards closer to his chest so the entire table, at least, couldn’t see them. When that round had finished, she turned to him, “Fox, would you like some more pie?”

With an enthusiastic nod, he moved to get it himself but Maggie held his arm while Betty retrieved the dessert. Thanking everyone at the table for their part in pie presentation, he took his first bite, waving his fork in Maggie’s direction, “she makes the best pies.”

Maggie caught the fork before it went in her eye, returning it and the attached hand to the table, “Janet made this one.”

“Then Janet makes the best pies, too.” Another bite later, “Scully doesn’t like pie. I don’t understand. I mean, she keeps trying pies but she just doesn’t like them. I’ve tried her with apple pie and cherry pie and peach pie and pumpkin pie and chocolate pie and I mean, my God, the amount of pie I’ve wasted on that woman is astounding. Peanut butter pie and blueberry pie and every time, she just takes a bite and looks like she’s gonna die and then slides it over to me to finish.” Turning towards Maggie again with the fork, “what did you do to her as a child? Did you force feed her rhubard pie or mincemeat or something? How could you raise a kid who doesn’t like pie?” Maggie tried to answer, defend her dessert choices for the past 34 years but never got past taking in a breath before he plowed ahead, re-addressing the table, Scully’s prone head and the air in general, “I love pie. Any kind of pie. My sister Sam used to make pretend pie and she always knew I’d eat it ‘cause she called it pie. She’d serve it up in her tea set, make me sit in that damn little chair and scoop up forkfuls of fake pie. At least she’d serve fake ice tea with it so that was something. She would line up her stuffed animals and dolls and just go down the line, feeding everybody pretend pie and pretend cookies and fake cake … once she made a pretend pot roast for us but then took it away ‘cause she said she’d accidently burned it and it tasted funny.” Taking a deeper swig of his Punch, “she stopped having her tea parties about a year before she disappeared but even on that last day, that afternoon, before we had the fight about the TV and before she floated in the air, she made a real pie for me … she made it with Oreos she’d smashed up and pressed into a pie pan and put frosting on as filling. She cut it and served it and brought me a glass of ice tea and told me she’d make me real pies from now on because she was going to be a chef and learn how to make all the pies for real so she’d always have something I’d like to eat.”

The table, right down the line, Maggie, Janet, Lillian, Betty, Ellie and Ruth, all had to fight various stages of sighs and sympathy, all wanting to hug Mulder tightly, all wanting to make the life of their Fox better.

He didn’t notice any of it, fork feeding himself another mouthful, “I think she would have been a good cook. She loved reading cookbooks. She’d get up on a stool when our mother was gone and study the buttons and dials on the stove, look inside the oven, make me come explain to her how the gas to the burners worked. She is irritating as hell sometimes but for a little sister, she’s not too bad.”

No one corrected his present tense usage for his long-gone sibling but Ellie quietly scooted his cup away as he continued, “I think that when Scully and I have a kid, I’ll buy her a tea set and explain the stove to her, feed her all kinds of pretend pie and see if maybe she wants to be a chef.” Aiming for the third time at an astonished Maggie, “you’ll have to teach her how to make meatloaf and pie and lasagna but,” swinging the fork around to Betty, “you will not be teaching her how to make the Punch. You will make the Punch and I will drink the Punch but even when she gets to be 40 or 80 years old, she will never be old enough to see the Punch.”

Looking around at the women, he grinned a blue-tooth smile, “why are we not playing? Did I win?” Glancing from the fork in his hand to the near empty plate in front of him, “I like pie.”

Twenty minutes later and after another piece of pie, sans diatribe, Mulder gave into annihilation, entire body dropping slowly against Betty, his last words being, “I should get Scully home to bed.”

Betty, supporting his dead weight admirably, gestured for assistance and soon, FoxNDana were both snoring peacefully on the table. Maggie took them both in, her glance sliding between, then to her cohorts, “how should we get them somewhere to sleep for the night?”

Studying the situation, Ellie suggested they start with Mulder. It took all of them to get him up, move him, pull down the sheets on the adjacent bedroom, lay him down, set an hopefully unnecessary wastebasket by the side of the mattress, be amused by his arm searching for Scully.

Returning to the kitchen, they expected to move Scully next but instead, found her sitting up in her chair, tears evident on her cheeks, the saddest look on her face they’d ever seen. Maggie held still on her crutches, “Dana?”

Scully sniffed hard, swiping her cheeks but not answering until Maggie asked when she’d woken up, if everything was okay, to which she finally responded, “I woke up when you asked him if he wanted pie.”

The ladies had a concrete-enough, vague notion of Scully’s personal life, complete with abduction, infertility and gunshot scars to collectively and quietly gather bags and shoes, calling hushed goodbyes while Scully sat there, guilt-laden at having chased away her mother’s friends with her insanity. Once the front door shut and Maggie returned to her, Scully waited for the inevitable, ‘what’s wrong’ but instead received a gently hand to her back and a quiet, “did you know he wanted to have a daughter with you?”

[spnroundrobin]

Masterpost: Round Three - Ship Round

Prompt: Newly human Cas has been staying at the bunker and helping the boys with research while they are away on hunts but has been feeling lonely being in the bunker by himself. During one of the lulls between hunts, he broaches the subject of getting a pet. Dean isn’t very excited about the idea. (established Destiel)

(Remember: This is the ship round so ship to your heart’s content. We’d like to keep this Teen rated so no sexual acts on screen. Innuendo is allowed. Sam is in the bunker so he can be included but side characters will have to be over the phone or on Skype.)

Schedule and Posting Instructions

(As submissions are made, they will be posted here by the mods.)

#1 @deadlykittenkay - Submission: 1

Cas was sitting at the table with books spread out before him and Dean’s laptop. He had decided to take a break from his research on how to get Mary back from the other universe. He always enjoyed watching videos online the featured little kitties and puppies playing. Sometimes Sam would try to find one that he hadn’t seen yet and send it to his phone while he and Dean were hunting.

Cas muted the current video of a cat pretending to be the famous Pokemon character when he thought he heard the bunker door open. After several beats of silence, Cas let out a heavy sigh. The bunker was such a lonely place without another living presence there, whether it be the Winchesters or Jody and Claire. Cas needed a companion, especially if Dean continued to be the over protective boyfriend, insisting that Cas stay behind on the bigger jobs.

#2 @zolaliz - Submission: 1

Of course, Dean would never agree to a pet.

“Who’ll feed it when we’re away, knee deep in some world-ending shitfest? No one. And then it’ll stink up the bunker.”

Cas scowled, recalling the conversation. As much as he hated to admit, Dean did have a point.

He mentally ruled out cats and dogs, glancing longingly at the muted laptop screen. Most mammals would need the same amount of care. Cas had learned over the past few weeks that humans were included in that category of high-maintenance, as he struggled with remembering to eat and sleep. This only added fuel to Dean’s runner-up argument against getting Cas a companion.

“You gotta start taking care of yourself before you go off trying to take care of something else, Cas,” Dean would say, in that highly hypocritical way of his (though Cas highly doubted that was intentional). But Cas reasoned he could work around that argument once he found a way to make Dean’s first one void.

He clicked open a new tab, and tapped “pets that don’t need to eat” into the search bar. Unsurprisingly, it heeded no helpful results.

“Maybe I’ll try to refine the search,” he mumbled, and bounced his fingers over the keys again.

#3 @ravenscat-tumbler - Submission: 1

Cas spent hours trying to find the perfect pet that would be low maintenance but that would still keep him company. He finally decides on a hamster. He knew that it would be easy to care for and not very costly. The little guy would also keep him company when Dean and Sam were away for cases.

The only thing now was to convince Dean to let him get one. He knew that Sam would be open to the idea and he also knew that Sam would help him convince Dean. So, he just had to bring up the idea with Sam first.

Perfect, now all he had to do was wait for the brothers to come home, hopefully safe and in one piece. He sits back and stretches on his chair. He does some more research and finds some useful things to help the brothers speed up their hunt. He picks up the phone and before he can dial he gets an incoming call from Dean.

He answers with a smile.“Hello, baby. I was just about to call you.” Cas answers.

#4 @blue-reveries - Submission: 1

“I just wanted to let you know that Sam and me are on our way back,” Dean said. Castiel could hear the rumble of the Impala in the background as Dean paused. “You sound like you’re in a good mood, any particular reason why?”

Cas scowled; was he really that transparent? He was going to have to seriously up his game if his plan to bring Dean around on the pet front but he knew it was going to have to be extra devious. His eyes widened and he smiled as an idea occurred to him.

“Nothing really but I was going to ask if you were going to be home tonight?” Cas replied smoothly, standing up to wander into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and started taking inventory.

Dean hummed in the affirmative. “Yep, we’re only about an hour out now. I was going to ask if what you wanted for dinner, we’ll stop somewhere on our way in.”

Smiling, Cas pulled his chosen items from the fridge. “Actually, since you’re almost home, I was thinking I could make something,” he said, grinning to himself. “I need something to do anyway and you guys are probably sick of take out.”

“That sounds really freaking good,” Dean sighed happily. “We’ll see you in a bit, babe.” This was followed by a quieter, “love you.”

“Love you too,” Cas said, smiling and shaking his head. All this time and Dean was still shy about saying that when Sam was nearby. It didn’t bother him since he knew it was just a fear of brotherly teasing, not that Dean was ashamed of them. “See you soon.”

After Dean hung up, Cas sat his phone down and looked at the pile of ingredients in front of him before glancing at the clock. He calculated carefully and smiled as he started peeling potatoes.

An hour was plenty of time.

Almost exactly an hour later as Cas was putting the finishing touches on the food, a familiar metallic clang echoed through the bunker and signaled the boys return. He worked quickly to clean up and wash his hands, hurrying out to the main area to see Dean and Sam’ booted feet clomping down the staircase.

“Oh my god, what smells so good?” Dean groaned as he walked over to drop his bag on the map table. He smiled brightly and pulled Cas into a tight hug, giving him a quick peck on the lips at the same time.

Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. “Hey, Cas,” he said as he walked by to place his armful of books on the table. “I’m gonna go clean up before I eat. Don’t let Dean eat it all. He’s been whining for the last half hour about how hungry he is.”

Stepping back from Dean but not dropping his hand, he chuckled. “Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll make sure to save you some.”

“Speaking of food,” Dean interjected not so smoothly as Sam disappeared down the hall to his room. He draped himself over Cas’ back and wrapped his arms around his waist. “What are we having?”

“I may have made homemade bacon cheeseburgers and fresh cut french fries,” Cas said innocently; happy that Dean couldn’t see the smug smirk on his face.

Dean squeezed him into a quick hug and kissed him on the cheek. “Mmmm…my favorite…”

Exactly, Cas thought, internally preening as everything fell into place as he planned as he and Dean trooped to the kitchen. And just wait until you see the peanut butter pie.

#1 @Deadlykittykay Submission: 2

As expected, Dean showed his appreciation for the burgers with gusto. He would moan appreciatively with each bite, his cheeks filling like that of a chipmunk, or better yet, much like the hamsters videos Cas had seen on YouTube. Castiel couldn’t help but smile at Dean fondly every time he did this. Even Sam was enjoying his meal, despite his brother’s unseemly manners.

Cas had missed the brother’s terribly and watching them bicker and interact with each other, even throwing stray fries at one another, filled Cas’ chest with warmth. Between this, the feel of Dean’s knee knee against his own, and listening to Sam retell the story of the latest hunt, Cas nearly forgot about his mission behind tonight’s dinner.

“So,” Sam started, pushing his plate away and smiling at Cas. “What were you up to while we were gone?”

Cas just shrugged, glancing at Dean before redirecting his attention to Sam. “The usual. I’m still trying to find some lore about alternate universes. It’s a bit trickier than I had imagined.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean nudged his knee with his own, giving him a found smile. “Don’t tell me you were a nerd the whole time.”

Cas rolled his eyes and reached for the brother’s empty plates. “No, Dean. I did more than research. I watched Netflix and YouTube videos. Pie?” he asked quickly, internally kicking himself when Dean groaned at the mention of the videos

#2 Submission: 2

Skipped

#3 @ravenscat-tumbler - Submission: 2

“Pie?” Dean’s face lights up at the mention of pie. “You made pie too? God, you’re perfect.” He says and then immediately blushes.

Sam snorts into his cup as he tires and fails miserably to hide his laugh. Dean glares at him and rubs the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I’ll go get that pie now.” Cas says.

Dean nods not meeting anyone’s eye.

“I’m gonna go put these plates in the kitchen.” Sam says, grabbing the dishes off the table and heading after Cas.

“Hello, Sam. Do you have a minute?” Cas asks as Sam walks into the kitchen.

“Yeah man, what’s up?” He asks, putting the dishes in the sink and leaning back against the counter. He looks at Cas and waits patiently.

Cas takes a breath, “I would like to get a hamster.” He says in one go.

“A hamster?” Sam tilts his head.

“A hamster.” Cas repeats again. “I need someone to keep me company when you two leave to go on long hunts.”

“Uhm, Ohhkay. So what’s the big issue?” Sam says, scratching the back of his head.

“And I need your help to convince Dean.”

Sam groans, “Dammit, that’s gonna be hard but alright, I’ll help you.”

Cas smiles warmly at Sam.

#4 @blue-reveries - Submission: 2

A quick and rough plan was quickly established and it all started with an extra large slice of peanut butter pie and Netflix.

“Wow, that was so freaking good,” Dean groaned, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach before letting out a contented belch that had Sam scrunching his nose. Cas picked stood up and collected their plates. Dean tugged him down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, a sure sign that he was in an extra happy mood. That would make the next stage of the plan easier.

Sam pushed back from the table and stood up. “I think I’m going to get into some sweats and watch some Netflix, you guys in?”

Dean replied in the affirmative and, while Cas quickly washed up the dishes, he and Sam went to change since Cas was already comfortably dressed. Fifteen minutes later, Cas and Dean were on the sofa in the room that had become the unofficial den after they’d picked up a couch at a second hand store. Sam was booting up Netflix from his armchair.

They settled on a light comedy show since Sam and Dean weren’t really interested in anything heavy after being out on a hunt. Cas curled up next to Dean and rested his head on his shoulder but he wasn’t really watching the show. He was waiting for his opportunity.

Three episodes in he enacted phase two.

Over the course of the next episode, Cas slowly and carefully situated himself so that his head was pillowed in Dean’s lap, one hand resting on his knees. According to plan, Dean began absentmindedly running his fingers through Cas’ hair while he continued to watch and Cas pretended to fall asleep.

“You know, I kinda feel bad for him,” Cas heard Sam say after about twenty minutes of ‘sleeping’. “Cas seems like he’s been sort of lonely while we’re gone.”

Dean grunted. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, he just mentioned how nice it was to have people moving around in the bunker again,” Sam said, his voice appropriately casual. Dean continued to toy with Cas’ hair, a sign that he was still relaxed. “I have to admit, it does get boring here when you’re by yourself.”

“I mean, we could probably take him on a few extra hunts,” Dean said though he sounded extremely reluctant, “but it’s really been working out for us to have someone here at home base.”

Cas heard Sam shifting in his seat. “Oh, yeah, I agree,” Sam replied before letting the conversation pause for a little bit. Cas had to work really hard to keep his body relaxed. “I don’t think it would hurt to have a pet around here though.”

The hand in Cas’ hair froze.

Dean sighed heavily and Cas’ stomach twisted in anticipation. “Sam,” he said heavily, his hand starting to move again, “you know my stance on pets, man. Cats hate people and dogs are just too high maintenance for a bunch of dudes who routinely get stuck on the road for weeks at a time. It’s not like we can call up the neighbors and ask them to pet sit.”

Cas felt his stomach start to sink. Dean wasn’t going to go for it; having Sam talk to Dean first wasn’t going to help his case. He had just decided to ‘wake up’ and forget the whole thing when Sam spoke up.

“But what if it wasn’t a cat or a dog?”

#1 @deadlykittenkay - Submission: 3

“Then what, Sammy?” Dean asked his voice sounding much more tired than Cas had ever heard come from the hunter. “A fish? So that way we can come home to it bloated and floating upside down? Think of how he reacted when you accidentally killed the bee last year. How do you think he’s going to react to a fish dying. Not just any fish but his fish.”

Sam sighed and leaned forward, bracing his forearms onto his thighs. “Not a fish, Dean.”

“Well I’d rather go to Hell again than have a snake or glorified spider in the bunker.”

“What about a hamster?” Sam tried.

Dean wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I don’t know, Sammy. They’re rodents.”

Sam’s eyes connected with Cas’ from across the room. Cas opened his mouth to say something but closed it when he saw the flick of Sam’s hand, motioning for him not to say anything.

“Dean,” Sam said softly, a tone that Dean knew as the one Sam uses when he pulls his lawyer card on someone. “You love Cas, right?”

#2 @zolaliz - Submission: 3

Skip

#3 @ravenscat-tumbler - Submission: 3

“Of course I do!” Dean says a little too loudly. He bites his lip and looks down at Castiel, who stirs in protest.

Castiel keeps calm and tries not to open his eyes.

“Of course I do.” Dean says again, a little quieter this time.

“Then don’t you want him to be happy?” Sam asks.

“I do,” Dean says, looking down and carding his hand through Cas’ hair. “but I don’t see how a stupid hamster is going to do that.” He grumbles out.

“It will Dean, trust me. It will.” Sam says. “It gets pretty lonely here when you are alone.”

Dean sighs softly, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know.” Sam says smugly.

Castiel opens his eyes and looks in Sam’s.

Sam smirks down at him and Castiel mouths ‘Thank you’ at him.

#4 @blue-reveries - Submission: 3

When he’d “woken up” from his nap, Dean hadn’t said anything at first much to Cas’ disappointment. Maybe Dean had taken the time to think and decided that he’d changed his mind. It actually hadn’t been until they were getting ready for bed that Dean had haltingly admitted that he had been wrong and that it wouldn’t be a horrible idea for Cas to have a pet.

“So I guess, if you wanted, we could go to the pet store tomorrow and you know, look for some sort of critter…but only one.”

Cas tried extremely hard to receive Dean’s acquiescence towards getting a pet with grace and dignity and felt he succeeded…barely. Instead of jumping up and cheering at finally achieving his goal, he beamed and leaned in to kiss Dean silly before moving on to other ways to show his gratitude.

It would be well into the later part of the morning before they left their room for breakfast the next day.

After breakfast, which definitely seemed to take longer than normal to Cas, they left the bunker to head into town. Cas had the directions to the pet store pulled up on his phone; he’d spent days upon days while he’d been on his own researching the best places to find pets and had bookmarked marked them.

“Turn up here,” he said, pointing to the last turn that should take them to Pet-topia. Excitement had him practically vibrating in his seat as Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot and maneuvered into one of the store’s parking spaces.

Dean looked vaguely grumpy as they got out of the car but Cas suspected that he was just trying to pretend to be upset that he’d caved to save face or other such nonsense. He trailed behind Cas as they entered the store.

There was a bored looking teenager standing at the register when they entered who sighed heavily and didn’t straighten from his slouched position over his phone when he asked in a flat voice, “welcome to Pet-topia, is there anything I can help you with today?”

“No, thank you,” Cas said, noting the teenager went happily back to his phone.

Keeping his and Dean’s discussion in mind, he forced himself to pass the rabbits and other larger animals despite the fact of how much he wished they were an option and walked on until they found themselves in front of the hamster display.

Looking down into the massive cage, he saw oodles of small balls of fluff; some of them scurrying around on the wood shaving covered cage floor or on the wheels while other’s nibbled at the food and water or laid sedately in their chosen spots. Cas looked down at the hamsters, his heart sinking ever so slightly.

How was he supposed to pick just one?

#1 @deadlyangelkay - Submission: 4

Dean could tell from the slightly panicked look in Castiel’s eyes and the frown etching it’s ways at the corner of his mouth, that he was over whelmed. Hell, Dean wasn’t even the one picking the damn rodent and he felt over whelmed.

Dean’s heart broke when he heard Cas mutter that he should just get a fish. He hated hearing the defeated tone in his love’s voice and was determined to make this easier.

Dean draped his arm around Castiel’s shoulder, pulling him closer and placing a kiss to his temple.

“How about this?” Dean suggested. “You spend some time with these little guys, see which one grabs your attention and I’ll go look at the cages and crap for his new home.”

Castiel gave Dean a small smile and nodded. “That is agreeable.”

“Awesome. Text me when you’ve found the one.” He gives Castiel another kiss, to the forehead this time and smiles at him before heading off to cages.

Dean had no idea that there were so many options for a hamster to call home. As if picking the perfect one was hard, Dean could only imagine how Castiel would feel about selecting a cage. Dean selected a colorful plastic monstrosity that had a Ferris wheel looking thing attached to it.

Of course, Dean turned down the wrong aisle and was accosted by the site of adorable balls of fluff. He would never admit it, but he had a soft spot for rabbits. The little balls of fluff with floppy ears and twitchy noses made Dean give pause every time. And this time was no different than any other time. Especially when one of the dwarf rabbits happened to be interested in his movements. Dean would be a bold face liar if he said that the damned ball of fluff hadn’t already set it’s hooks into him. And how could it not? It’s black fur contrasting with the bright blue eyes. Dean was so captivated by it that he hadn’t even noticed he had company.

“I thought you said no rabbits,” Castiel’s voice was soft and teasing.

#writer 2 drop

#3 @ravenscat-tumbler - Submission: 4

“I did not say that…” Dean starts, “And I’m not saying that now either.” He finishes. Castiel just smirks at him, eyes glinting.“Don’t give me that look.” He says, turning back to looks at the dwarf rabbit. “We can get the rabbit if you want to Dean.” Castiel says. He stands slightly behind Dean and places his hand on his lower back, looking at the rabbit with him. “He is a cute little fella, isn’t he?” Dean ask. “That he is.” “Alright, let’s get em.” Dean says, making up his mind. Castiel smiles warmly at Dean and then goes to talk to the person at the counter.The lady helps them pick out the necessary items they need to take the rabbit home. They leave the place with loads of bags and a lot less money than they came with. They come home and Sam is instantly taken to the little guy.“Hey, his features look like Cas’.” Sam says with the bunny on his lap. He scratches behind his ear and the rabbit wiggles his nose in content. Castiel smiles mischievously looking towards Dean, who had adverted his gaze and was pretending to read the bag of the food.“Is that why you wanted to get him, Dean?” “What?” Dean asks, looking up and pretending to hear them for the first time. “Did you want to get the rabbit because it had similar features to me?” “What? No! Don’t be ridiculous.” Dean says. “Anyways… what do we name the little guy?” He asks changing the topic.

#4 @blue-reveries - Submission: 4

The debate on what to name their, and Cas maintained that this pet belonged to all of them now after seeing Sam and Dean’s faces, rabbit raged on for the rest of the day until a decision was made just after dinner.

And so the rabbit was dubbed Bruce in honor of the Hulk and so that he had a “manly” name.

(Though Cas suspected Dean only agreed to the name so he could go around saying “Hello..my name is Bruce…” in an entirely inaccurate Australian accent despite his previous insistence that Finding Nemo had been boring.)

Originally when they’d been hammering out the details on where the hamster they’d been planning to get would reside, Dean had been adamant that “the critter” would be staying in the room next door to his and Cas’ room. He’d argued that he didn’t need a rodent in his living space. So Cas was surprised when Dean picked up the rabbit cage they’d purchased and carried it past the room they’d prepared only to enter their bedroom.

As much as Cas wanted to ask why their new pet was suddenly allowed to be in their room, he refrained. Today had been a big day for Dean what with agreeing to not only having a pet but changing that pet to a slightly bigger animal so he didn’t want to risk pushing his buttons too much. He cuddled Bruce to his chest as he watched Dean clear off a space on the one dresser for the rabbit cage; the little ball of fluff burrowing into the fabric of his t-shirt. Running his fingers through Bruce’s hair was extremely soothing and this pleased Cas.

Bruce wouldn’t be a substitute for actual human interaction but he’d definitely be a comfort and a fitting companion for when Sam and Dean needed to leave for extended hunts.

“There,” Dean said, stepping back to brush his hands off.  He stood there, examining his handiwork for a bit before turning to face Cas. “Bruce’s place is all set.” Dean reached out and scooped Bruce out of his hands, cooing at him. “Here you are, big guy. A home just for you.”

It took every ounce of control that Cas had cultivated over millenias of existence to not burst out laughing at his self-proclaimed “macho” boyfriend turning into a puddle of goo in the presence of a small bunny.

#1 @deadlyangelkay - Submission: 5

A few weeks had passed since they had brought home both Bruce and Peanut. The brothers hadn’t found a case and it gave time for all three to bond with the animals. Cas’ favorite part was watching the rabbit and hamster interact and Dean’s reaction to it. At first Dean was hesitant, having his precious Bruce and the rodent near each other. But once Sam pointed out that essentially the two were brothers, Dean begrudgingly relented.

Now, it’s as if Dean looks forward to their play time. Castiel smiles fondly at Dean as he laughs at the way Bruce and Peanut play. More like the way that would climb over Bruce and Bruce would twitch his nose at the hamster. The best part about watching “their boys” – as Dean has started to call them – was the Dean would periodically lean against Cas. Happy, content, and peaceful.

Before Castiel knew it, it was time for the Winchesters to go off to another hunt. Dean gave Cas the familiar speech about how it was just a simple salt and burn and they would be back before he could miss them. And as always Cas would roll his eyes because after all this time, when has anything been easy for the Winchesters? A quick kiss goodbye and a promise to call when they got to the motel, Castiel was once again left in the large quiet bunker.

He scooped up Bruce into his arms, the little guy nuzzling into his shirt as he carried Bruce to the bedroom. “You know, there’s an excellent documentary on Netflix that you might like,” Castiel says softly, happy to no longer be alone.