#sam’s yelling down the hall like

[wetpuppets]

not my fav drawing but these three shoulda blazed it. lucy was a hippie she’d be cool about it. also paul and marko would gossip with her

[anakinsdove]

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it's been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he's still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn't there before.

C/W: nsfw, fluff, loser Sammy, riding, tit sucking, lose of virginity (sam’s) subby!sam

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 2,149

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” Your voice echoes in his mind… he swears time is passing slower that it’s meant to because god’s teasing him and also, he has never hate James as much as he does in this moment, he doesnt show signs of being sleepy and its already 12:00 AM, if he’s not asleep by 2:00 AM he’s gonna lose his fucking chance to be with you, it’s probably the only chance he’ll ever get… and he really really wants to be with you… ever since he heard Josh Dickens gave you a kiss in elementary school because fuck… that had to be him

When you kicked Matt because he pushed him, then Matt pulled your pigtails and made you cry so he brought you a muffin his mom baked as in sincere thank you for defending him… He’s been in love with you since forever, even when you went away, soon his morning woods were because of the sex dreams of you and not the models in his dirty magazines, You you You, you….

And when you knelt down in front of him and unbuckled his belt expertly he knew it was over for him, you were his and he’ll do whatever you wanted him to do, fuck he hated himself for cumming so soon, because that moment could’ve last longer, he hated himself because he wanted to go again but he was so sensitive… the way your teeth gently grazed his cock-

“Dude! Are you serious?” James yelled and his face goes pale, can James read his mind suddenly? “You’re hard” Sam panicked and covered himself with a pillow “Fuck off!” James rolls his eyes and goes back to his game… Sam can’t take this anymore, he stands up and goes to the bathroom, your room is right down the hall, it looks so tempting yet so scary at the same time.. before he can stop himself hes standing at your door where he can take a peak of you, he knows it’s not 2:00 AM yet, and he doesn’t want you to think he can’t follow basic instructions but… fuck…he imagines your voice calling for him, telling him you need him, to please you, to fuck you, to take you so fucking good, to tell him you need him right between your legs… he imagines your taste, your thighs suffocating him but he wouldn’t mind… he would’ve never mind.

He watches your toy with the cord of the phone as you talk about to someone on the phone, he wonders who it is… one of your friends? Your ex? The next boy you’re going to fuck after you ruin him tonight?… and again before he can stop it his hand is down his pants as he grips his hard on… painfully hard til he releases as shaky breath… now your voice sounds incomprehensible, he observes your chest rise and fall with every breathe you take, the way you’re laughing at someone’s voice and the way you kick your feet in such a girly way, he smiles…

He’s a pervert, he knows it but he doesn’t really mind right now, your pajamas shorts are so sexy to him, the fabric looks so delicate, fragile, like he could tear them apart and slide his cock right between your folds, all puffy and wet for him… he bangs his head against the wall and bites his lip hard to suppress a moan, his hand moves up and down at a fast peace, he knows he doesn’t have much time

He’s so close, so so close, just like the loser he is he’s always close and his hips chase his hand desperately, his brow furrowed as he breathes heavily against the wall

Then you make eye contact with him

His eyes squeezed shut when he came, he just ruined his only pair of boxers and his hand is sticky as fuck…. And he hears your step getting closer…

“Oh Sammy..” your voice is condescending as you eye him up cutely… when suddenly you close the door, leaving him outside like a dog in heat, Sam squeezes his eyes again in embarrassment as he runs to the bathroom to clean up himself.

1:39 AM

James seems to be about to go to sleep, that’s a good thing for sure, it finally looks like he’s about to get what he desperately needs, yet… he seems to be confused by your hot and awkward interaction, were you just teasing him? Or it meant something more? You looked at him like you finally realized he’s a loser who doesn’t deserve to fuck you… but maybe you didn’t, maybe you were just being cocky about finding him that position… with his fucking hand under his pants, any girl would’ve thrown him out, beat him up, but you didn’t… he knows he deserves it but you didn’t… he feels more and more head over heels as he thinks about all the possible out comes tonight has.

He’s outside your door again at 1:58 AM, waiting impatiently as the clock tickling mocks him, it certainly feels like it… he doesn’t know whether he should knock now or wait two more minutes… however you put his mind at ease when you suddenly open the door and pull him inside.

“Just in time” your breathless tone makes his toes curl

“Really-“ your lips press into his, this is something you could call a kiss, is intense, it’s everything both of you need it to be… his greedy hands grips your boobs like any stupid boy would do, you think he’s bold for doing this tho.

“Feeling confident aren’t you?” And well his confidence is definitely gone now at your mean words, spat like venom, he wants more of that… “You want me…. As much as I want you” his voice doesn’t so sure

“Ok and?” You kiss him again guiding him towards your bed, the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls down with you ok top of him, this time his hands rest on your waist, not daring to touch anywhere else just yet.

“…Sam…..” Oh fuck she’s regretting it “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this with me? I get it if you’d want to wait for the right girl” You’re the right gir! It’s fucking you! It always has been! “Positive” You grin at his words and just like you did a few hours ago you decide to go for his neck again… the hickeys you gave him are still there, he’s surprised James didn’t even notice… any one would’ve pieced it instantly… his breathe heaves “I’m gonna take off your shirt” he sits up so you can do whatever you want to him… “Sam…” “Huh?” “You can take my clothes off too…” he nods shakily as he exhales, everything feels like a very complex task right now… he takes the hem of your shirt thank top and lifts it off your body, he takes a moment to admire your skin, any marks, moles, scars, he wants to remember this moment, to keep it engraved in his mind, because this might be the last time.

“Do you know how to undo my bra?” His silence gives it away “It’s okay let me just-“ Your breast mesmerize him that’s for sure, he’s instantly attracted to them as his hands touch your soft skin, his thumbs grazing your nipples softly “You’re so fucking pretty” he breathes out “Yeah?” “So fucking perfect” his words are genuine… you know it, something shifts inside you like a switch that tells you Make it special and you will… “You’re so prettty Sam…” his brows furrowed and his mouth falls open as he sees your hands toying with his belt again… all over again.

You successfully remove his pants and realize his shirt is still on… “You wanna take that off?” Sam nods, you never take your gaze away from him, he’s pale, his skin looks very smooth regardless, his collarbones are prominent, he’s beautiful.. you can’t help it but touch his piercing in his chin.

“Does this hurt?” He chuckles… “No, not really” “Reaaaally? Or were you just really brave about it?” You tickle his ribs, his boyish giggle fills your ears and that sound will be forever engraved in your mind… this won’t be a random hookup, this is more than that, and even if that thought scares you you decide to push it to the back of your mind for now… wait he’s also wearing eyeliner it looks so good with his already smudge eyeshadow

“Okay… uh… do you want me to ride you?” YES YES YES yet he just nods impatiently, he wouldn’t want to miss the chance of you bouncing on his cock, breaking his legs as he sucks on your gorgeous tits, you already suck his soul out, so why not also break his legs.

You remove your panties and his boxers… Sam touches the bow on your panties to confirm you’re real and this is happening, his gaze follows your body from your pussy to you eyes “It’s okay… I don’t care if you don’t last long, I want you to enjoy this” you’re an angel sent from heaven

“Im-I’m gonna put it in” you hover over him and your nails graze his tip deliciously, he lays back on your pillows

And when you slide it in….

“Fuck!” His legs tremble and you whine, he’s big he’s so fucking big…. Why’s this loser so fucking big? Sam hisses as he lays back, throwing his head back Fuck fuck fuck why is she so fucking warm he breathes heavily as he squirms, his brows furrow prettily “it’s okay Sam…. It’s okay breathe baby” “You’re so fucking wet!” “Yes Sammy… so fucking wet, does it feel good?” He nodds, his eyes are still closed, his hands grip your thighs desperately… you think he might make himself bleed with how hard he’s biting his lip… you decide to put his hands to use and guide them to your tits.

Sam grips them instantly as you roll your head back, “I’m gonna start moving okay?” “I’m not gonna last..” you roll your eyes and start grinding against him, your clit rubs deliciously against his pubes… he sits up, his hands go straight to grip your ass guiding you up and down… fine… you start bouncing… bouncing on his cock like he always dreamed of, your fucking pussy is so tight.

Sam breathes heavily against your chest, you tits in full display to him, he can’t help himself, he just can’t, they’re bouncing right in front of his face as your hips ride him expertly, his lips latch to your nipple and he manhandles your other boob… you hate to admit it but that sight is doing more for you than you can explain… you cry out and your fingers travel down to your pussy as you rub you clit fastly and uncoordinated, you know he’s close and you want to cum with him

“Sam! S-Sam fuck fuck-“ he removes your hand and rubs your clit himself, his touch is too rough, almost painful yet heavenly, his eyes are scrunched tightly, his mouth falls open releasing your nipple, his moans are no longer muffled, they’re loud, they’re so fucking loud, his hands attempt to help you ride him faster and then you see it

He’s crying

It’s so intense it’s so fucking intense, the type of pleasure his hand could never provide him, no matter how much lube he uses… what he’s fucking- it’s just not… and he’s a mess, he’s sweating and his cheap eyeliner is running down his cheeks

“Yes Sammy.. c-cum for me.. I can feel you’re close- you’re fucking pulsating inside me!”

the pressure building in his belly snaps and it’s all fireworks and stars flashing behind his eyes… his belly twitches as he fills you up “Ah.. Ah! Yes!” You’re not far behind him… your orgasm is powerful, it’s gonna leave you shaking… sam spasms as you keep riding him just a little more.. his eyes open when you collapse on top of him.

“Oh my fucking god” Sam laughs and you wonder what’s so funny “W-what?” “People do this everyday?” He looks dreamy as he pushes your hair behind your ear “I guess…” you giggle “I thought you were trying to kill me…” he laughs “I was” “Yeah?” “Wanted to see how much you can take-“ he interrupts you with a kiss

“What was that for?” “Well we just made love” Sam’s says sarcastically “made love?” You laughs at his cute explanation “You just fucked the shit out of me…” “And your soul out of you..” “Yeah… that too” Sam smiles brightly “Are you okay?” You ask him he can only nod, he’s so happy.

“So… what if now…. I just cuddle the shit out of you?”

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

[cobaltperun]

Can I pls request a Tara X reader who is the daughter of Gale and Dewey born around 2001 so just a year older than Tara. They start dating after the events of Scream 5 and Sam is not happy after catching them having sex in Tara’s room

I really love you’re stuff and I hope you enjoy your break ☺️

She's my Girlfriend!

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader (Request)

Warning: slight smut at the very start.

Masterlist

Word count: 1.3k

She was falling apart for you, broken moans she struggled to keep relatively quiet, her hands grasping for anything to hold on to, from your shoulders, to your back, to the back of your head and neck. Her back arched, her breasts bouncing slightly as she rode your fingers. Your eyes met and you could tell she was close, her wet walls clenched around your fingers as she pulled you in for a kiss. Only to quickly pull back and moan louder than she should when your thumb found her clit.

“That’s it, Tara,” you gasped, lips latching onto her neck as she threw her head back.

“Y/N,” she moaned your name, and then the disaster struck, the doors opened abruptly and slammed into the wall, the shadow trembling with fury remained illuminated by the light from the hall.

“Damn it, Sam!” you yelled, quickly getting on top of Tara and pulling the covers to shield Tara from Sam’s gaze.

“Y/N,” Sam growled, her overprotective instincts taking over at the worst possible moment.

Tara hid her face in the crook of your neck as you struggled to get dressed under the covers, you were not fighting this battle half naked, Sam did not need extra advantages. At least you didn’t get to take your jeans off before she barged in like a maniac.

“Yes, that is my name,” you said as you almost nonchalantly moved off Tara and sat down next to her. You leaned over the bed and grabbed the shirt Tara was wearing and gave it to her, so she could at least wear that and not rely only on the covers to keep her body hidden. “Here, Tara,” you kind of hoped that ignoring Sam would let her calm down. Besides, Tara would definitely start panicking if you started panicking, even before you got together, she would be much calmer if you were calm. As she often told you, you made her feel safe and if you weren’t panicking, she felt like she didn’t need to panic either.

She still refused to look at Sam and hastily pulled the shirt on before hiding behind you. She was usually headstrong and would defy Sam in a heartbeat if she felt like she needed, but she just got caught on the verge of an orgasm, naked on your lap with your fingers knuckle-deep inside her pussy, she was a bit too embarrassed to try arguing back.

“How dare you?” Sam, however, was still seething.

So, ignoring wasn’t working, hell, with how red Sam looked it was likely making it even worse. “No! None of that,” you quickly got up and put your hand up.

“What do you mean no?! You were fucking my sister!” Sam exclaimed furiously.

“Sam… She’s my girlfriend,” you said very slowly. “Tara and I are together, girlfriends, in a relationship,” you put emphasis on every word.

Sam’s eyebrow twitched. “And?”

You could not believe what you were hearing. You threw your arms up and glared at her. “I am not going to explain to you that sex is usually a part of a relationship, also, you heard us, you knew what we were doing. Pervert,” you didn’t even pause, not even when you could picture volcanos erupting out of rage within Sam.

“Get out!” Sam yelled.

“Sam, no!” Tara protested.

You could feel vein popping on your forehead as you stepped forward, closer to Sam. “Now listen here, the only person that can tell me if I’m going to pleasure my girlfriend,” you whipped your arm back and pointed at Tara. “Is my girlfriend,” you didn’t even sneak in! You arrived with Chad and Mindy, and you made it clear to Sam, both you and Tara, by the way, that you’d be staying the night and furthermore, that you’d spend it in Tara’s room. What did she think you would do?! Play card games?! None of this would be happening if Sam allowed Tara to at least every now and then sleep at your apartment, but no, she did not want to risk it and sneaking out was getting more difficult.

At least she didn’t think you’d hurt Tara. She knew you’d never become a Ghostface.

“I do not need to know my sister is,” she paused, visibly shivering at the thought and you understood, well, at least that part. “You were being loud,” she eventually said.

“She moaned louder once!” you exclaimed. And even then, it wasn’t too loud. Sam must have gone to the bathroom or something, because there was no way she could have heard it from her room.

“Sorry for feeling good. Guess I can’t have that either,” Tara looked away with a pout and you saw a tiny hint of guilt and regret in Sam’s eyes. “And we’ve been together for almost half a year…” she added, you and Tara got together about four months after she was attacked and your dad got killed.

“I’m just going to go now,” Sam sighed, and you closed the doors behind her, you could tell she was still fairly pissed off, but there was no point in continuing the conversation.

You went back to bed and groaned, covering your face with your palms. "Damn, that was embarrassing!" you complained, your ability to stay composed and collected vanishing the moment Sam was out the doors.

"Tell me about it," Tara groaned, leaning against you in equal state of distress.

You just pulled Tara into a hug, which she gladly accepted. She was much more embarrassed than you, after all you got caught by Sam, not by your mom. Hell, your mom probably wouldn't even make a fuss about it, just tease you in the morning. Not that she'd ever get the chance to do so, since you had your own apartment because it was closer to university and you needed your independence.

“I’m horny, and frustrated, and not in the mood, and I feel robbed, all at the same time,” she whined, her frustration more than a little clear in her voice, and the way she hugged you. Her hold on you was tight, like it often was when she felt intense emotions and could cling to you to ground herself. It’s been like that when you were younger, when you got closer, and it’s been even more prominent since the attack, since Amber killed your dad. Back then Tara clung to you, begging for forgiveness. In your mind there was nothing to forgive, she didn’t stab him, she didn’t kill him, your dad was being the hero that he always was in your eyes.

You kissed the top of her head. Hoping to reassure her and bring her some comfort, and it worked, as she snuggled closer to you and relaxed. You spent several minutes like that, for a moment you even thought Tara fell asleep. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she fell asleep in your arms.

You were wrong though, as she suddenly giggled and you looked down to see her trying to compose herself. “But still, for someone that just got caught in the middle of having sex, you sure were confident. That’s Gale Weathers’ daughter for you,” Tara teased, and you chuckled uneasily.

“Fake it till you make it?” you shrugged, after all, as far as you were concerned giving in to Sam’s anger would just give her more power. You did not need to know which measures would be necessary to get her to stop interfering if you gave in tonight.

“Mhm, guess I’ll start calling myself Tara Riley?” she was teasing you again! But you still choked on your own spit.

“Yeah, you do that,” you wheezed as she laughed.

[hurtspideyparker]

The team learns about Peter's stress baking fairly quickly after he moves into the tower.

"Why does this place smell like cookies?" Tony asks suspiciously, "Pepper put an end to homemade care packages after that Cap incident."

Steve protests from the dining table, "Hey, that fan seemed totally normal. Y'know in my generation you do not mess with baked goods, that's sacred."

Natasha pats his back comfortingly as she joins the conversation.

"They came from the kid. They're actually pretty good, here."

Nat hands a still-warm cookie to Tony, who bites it curiously.

"Damn, it melts in my mouth like buttery ambrosia and still has a perfect crunch around the edges. Is that a nutty aftertaste?"

"Yes!" Peter yells from the other room, a clatter sounding before his head pokes around the wall, oven mitts still attached to his hands.

"I brown the butter, it really deepens the flavour!"

"Good on you kid. What's the occasion?"

Peter stutters, "uhhhh, no occasion. I just like cookies!"

He disappears around the corner again, and Tony sends a confused glance towards his teammates.

Steve shrugs his shoulders, mouth still full of cookie, and Natasha sends him an arched brow. Tony isn't sure what that means, but feels intimidated enough to exit the room anyway.

* * *

The baking lasts the rest of the week, until Peter comes home yelling, "I aced my calculus midterm!!!" Running out of the elevator with a stapled set of papers in his hand.

"So no more baking?" Nat asks neutrally.

"Nope! Woohoo!"

Just like that the kid is gone, jumping down the hall towards his bedroom.

Tony looks at Nat quizzically.

"It was midterm week. He baked 3 dozen cookies, 2 types of muffins, and a cheesecake."

"So he stress bakes?"

"He stress bakes."

* * *

It becomes a "thing" in the tower.

Sam eats toast from freshly baked bread one morning while watching Bruce quiz Peter on his upcoming AP history test. Each slice is cut, toasted, and buttered to perfection by Peter while he explains sectionalism in the 20th century.

* * *

Bucky grates carrots while Peter mixes a bowl of dry ingredients furiously, the boy mumbling to himself non-stop.

"Has he gone insane?" Clint asks from the doorway.

"Spanish oral exam," Bucky replies.

"Ay caramba."

"Tal vez pueda sobornar a mi maestra con glaseado de queso crema..." Peter starts mumbling. (Maybe I can bribe my teacher with cream cheese frosting...)

Bucky and Clint share a concerned look.

Clint approaches the boy, "put down the spatula Pete, let's talk about this."

Peter looks up in alarm.

"In English! Just English!"

* * *

"What's up kid? It's spring break, what could you possibly be stressing about."

Today Tony walks into a full kitchen; Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper are occupying the space while Peter pours something creamy into a metal bowl.

"He's asking MJ out tonight, so he's making cookies and cream ice cream in case it goes wrong." Natasha crosses her arms when she replies to him, eyes focused on Peter's mixing.

"Does ice cream even count as stress baking? The very meaning of 'bake' is to put under heat. But I suppose it does feel wrong to call it cooking."

Peter looks up, his brown eyes large and sad like a baby cow, "I still baked the cookies from scratch."

"Yeah he's a real Nara Smith!" Wanda adds enthusiastically.

"Oookay... I'll pretend I know what that means. And since when do we have an ice cream maker?" Tony points to the fancy hardware out on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, I got that for him. We lacked a lot of the tools for basic baking recipes," Pepper informs him.

Tony ponders how ice cream machines count as a basic baking tool, and decides not to argue with three powerful women and their favourite lovesick teenager.

Peter picks up his bowl and moves it into the freezer, clearing away a couple frozen pizzas and a bag of peas.

"Should I even bother with the cones?" Peter asks with a pout.

"Pete she's gonna say yes! Also if you're wallowing in misery with a tub of ice cream we still want our cones so we can emotionally support you with a crunchy treat," Wanda says with a supportive smile.

The others nod along.

"You're right!" Peter agrees before turning around and grabbing an honest-to-god waffle cone maker, with the cone shaping kit to boot.

"Why..." Tony begins to protest, "y'know what, I don't care. Let me know how it goes kid."

The man is ignored as he moves through the kitchen to grab a banana, the women coaching Peter on his manners, flirting, and first date ideas as he exits the room.

* * *

Thor hums around the delicious treat.

"Mmm. You know young Peter, you could have a shop for your creations. Is there a Stark Industries for baked goods?" Thor asks the young lad, crumbs falling from his mouth as he chews the cookie bar.

"I didn't invent the blondie Thor. I was just trying to explain what it is, a cookie brownie! I did decorate them all by myself though," he says with a satisfied grin.

"Ah yes," Thor lifts up another blondie by the pretzel stick Peter put in the squares, attached with a bit of melted chocolate so they're shaped like Mjolnir, "now you are all worthy of the hammer. Ha! This is funny, I'm sure the others will find your talents equally amusing."

Peter picks up his own mini-Mjolnjr and waves it around, "it is I, son of Odin. Don't worry puny Midgardians, I will protect you with my mighty hammer and beautiful hair!"

Thor laughs thunderously at the impression, clapping.

Bruce walks into the room, enticed by the laughter.

"Ah! My friend, Peter has made edible Mjolnirs so you, too, may be worthy. It's delicious and hilarious. Imagine Banner wielding my hammer, ha! Ridiculous," Thor is all too amused by the situation.

Bruce gives Peter an offended look as Thor continues laughing with himself, the younger just shrugging. Bruce takes one of the treats anyways, pointedly not holding it by the pretzel stick.

"Y'know Pete, have you ever considered opening a bakery? You are quite talented. I think the Avengers alone would keep you in business," Bruce asks politely.

"Well I only like to bake when I'm stressed. That wouldn't be a very stable business model," Peter points out.

"True. Although running a business can be quite stressful, so maybe you'd have a continuous supply?"

"Hm. Efficient and unhealthy," Peter nods like it's the perfect plan.

"Wow you really are Stark's intern."

Thor bursts out into another bout of raucous laughter.

"Imagine Stark wielding my dessert hammer," Thor barely gets the words out, "Stark being worthy-AH HAHA."

Bruce and Peter share a look of wide-eyed alarm before joining in on the laughter.

They all share the moment before Bruce straightens up a bit to ask, "what are you even worried about anyways Peter?"

Peter wipes a tear from his eye, "I forgot to call Aunt May this morning like I always do and she only let me move here if I promised I wouldn't neglect her. So now I'm too scared to check my phone."

"I see," Bruce sympathizes.

"Yeah, baking is good for procrastinating. I pretend I'm being productive while also creating comfort food for after my breakdowns."

* * *

Tony steps into the dining room one afternoon to find Peter slicing apples while Steve sits across from him cutting intricate patterns into pie crust. There is an array of leaves and flowers set out on the flour-sprinkled table.

"So is the ornamentation necessary, or is Cap also developing a delicious self-soothing habit," Tony inquires.

"I was just talking to Peter about pie recipes from the 40s and he asked if I could help make his prettier," Steve smiles up at his companions, "it's actually a lot of fun, I can't say I've ever used food to make art before."

"He's a natural talent Mr. Stark!"

Tony agrees with the quirk of an eyebrow and cheeky sideways nod. He observes for a moment before asking something that's been bothering him recently.

"Pete, I gotta ask. Why baking? You inherited your Aunt's terrible cooking skills, and it's not like you're built for other domestic duties. Your room is a mess. What gives? How are you so... refined?"

Peter pauses his chopping to look up incredulously.

"It's science Mr. Stark. Baking is just chemistry! I'm great at chemistry," he says with a grin.

Tony thinks about it.

"Huh. I guess you're right. So, what has you stressed this time? Girl troubles? You get too good a grade in P.E. and Flash is suspicious? Decathlon competition?" Tony lists off some of his previous turmoils.

He hopes it's the decathalon again, those butter tarts were divine.

"Um. Can I finish my apple filling before I tell you? I'll lose motivation if you start yelling at me..." Peter says with a hopeful smile, strain lying underneath it.

Tony's eyes narrow.

"Okay so I maybe blew up your test tubes when trying to develop fire webs and Dum-E may have covered your entire lab in fire supression foam."

Tony's jaw clenches, "I'm gonna let you stew in fear for a bit longer because apple is my favourite - if this was pumpkin you'd already be squashed - but best believe I'm not done with you yet." Tony slowly takes a deep breath before pointing a finger at Peter. "Never change kid, never change."

Tony leaves, distinctly in the opposite direction of his lab, and Peter goes back to slicing apples, now with a genuine smile on his face.

[xoxoch3rry]

Murdering my girlfriend prank - Colby Brock

(NOT MY GIF)

NOT EDITED!!

Colby Brock x fem!reader

Warnings: Violence, Murder (fake obvi), fake blood, and curse words.

Summary: You and Colby decide to prank his roommates by making them think he murdered you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"Wassup guys, it's Colby Brock here, Welcome back to my channel. So today I'm going to be doing the murdering my girlfriend prank on my roommates." "So basically me and my girlfriend Y/N are going to be ''getting in a fight'' and I'm going to kill her" Colby laughed looking at me. "But the objective is not actually to kill me but just to make your roommates think that you killed me" I looked at the camera.

"Right so let's begin" he smirked at the camera. "Ok, so I just went and checked and everybody is currently downstairs right now." I smiled, walking back into Colby's room and watching him set up the camera. "Alright so I have this glass cup that I'm going to throw to make it sound like things are being thrown around, Y/N and I are going to scream and yell at each other, and then it's going to go quiet, and then we're going to put the fake blood on her" Colby look at the camera nervously.

"I think I'm gonna go downstairs, and I'm gonna cry while I'm down there, but I'm also gonna set up a camera, so yeah. Also, I'm doing an acting class right now so this is gonna be practice" I smile into the camera while walking down the hall and towards the steps. I start to focus on letting the tears fall down my face while I had the camera at my side. I walked into the kitchen and saw Devyn and Kat sitting on the counter talking to each other, with the rest of the surrounding boys all taking shots.

"Hey, Y/N you okay?" Devyn asked, making everyone look at me. "Yeah, I'm fine" I faked a smile while looking down at the ground. "Are you sure you're okay Y/N" Jake stared at me "mhm" I opened the fridge grabbed a bottle of water and walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway to set up the camera. I laughed while setting up the camera on the floor under a blanket. I stepped back to look to see if the camera was noticeable. It wasn't.

I ran back up the stairs to tell Colby that we can start. "Ok, we can start" I smiled at him as I opened his door. I hugged Colby tight while taking in a deep breath of air. "I love you and I want to make sure you win this prank war" I smiled looking up at him. He leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips, "I love you" was all he said as he pushed me back onto his bed and started yelling at me.

"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N" Colby yelled loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. "I'm sorry" I cried out "I didn't mean to ok, it was just a mistake" I cried letting the tears form in my eyes. "Keep going" I whispered to Colby as he looked like a wanted to stop seeing me about to cry. He nodded. Counting to yell, "YOU FUCKED ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS!"

"It was a mistake, ok". Please, Colby, please listen to me" He picked up the glass and threw it on the floor as I screamed out from the shock of the glass shattering all over the floor. I moved some of the glass out of the way and lay on the floor covering myself in fake blood "Colby stop Colby" I screamed at the top of my lungs "Somebody help me please" I cried out "SHUT THE FUCK UP" Colby yelled as he banged on the wall with his hands as I continued to scream then stop. I heard people running up the stairs, and down the hallway.

"Colby, open the door" Sam yelled out as he tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Y/N" Kat screamed out "Y/N please open the door." "COLBY, OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW MAN" Jake yelled out. I smiled at Colby as I put some of the blood that was on me onto his clothes and face. I closed my eyes as he got up and walked over to his door. He took a deep breath as he unlocked it and barely opened it to where they couldn't see inside the room. "What?" he asked looking at his roommates, "Is Y/N ok?" Kat and Devyn asked at the same time. Colby didn't answer as he looked to the side of him, "oh my god" Kat said looking at the blood on his clothes.

Jake and Sam's eyes follow where Kat was looking. Jake shoves the door open, making Colby stumble out of the way. "OH MY GOD" Kat screamed out, falling to her knees and crying. "Holy shit," Sam said, placing his hands on his face, "Colby, what did you do?" Sam asked, looking at Colby. "I don't know man, it just happened," He said, stumbling over my body and over to his couch, taking a seat. "I didn't mean for this to happen" Colby cried out, tears falling down his face.

"What the fuck happened?" Jake asked, walking over to me and kneeling to look at me. "We got into an um f-fight and I just got so mad a-and I wasn't thinking and i-i just, I didn't mean for this to happen" Colby cried. "We have to call 911" Devyn cried, hugging Kat. "NO, NO, we can't". "Why not Colby" Kat asked looking at him with tears in her eyes. "Because um... It's A PRANK" he laughed out, wiping his tears. I laughed turning to look at Jake as he just scoffed and got up "NOT COOL MAN, not cool" he looked at Colby as he ran to get the camera.

"Oh, my god, Y/N I thought Colby actually killed you" Kat and Devyn hugged me. "Aww you guys care about me" I hugged them back. "Man, I thought I was gonna have to help you cover up a murder." Sam laughed with Colby.

"Thank you guys so much for watching today's video, if you liked or want to see more videos like this make sure you like, comment, and subscribe". "Yeah, we got 'em" I yelled into the camera still covered in blood.

After the video was over, Colby hugged me so tight I could barely breathe, "Are you actually trying to kill me" I laughed looking up at him. He laughed leaning down to kiss me on the lips "I'm sorry for yelling at you" he said as he broke away from the kiss "It's okay, but you do have fantastic acting skills" I looked up at him "I learned from the best" I hugged him even tighter burning my face into his chest.

[wosoamazing]

Mum versus Ma

Summary: You go to the world cup camp with your Mum. Based off these requests – one & two.

Warnings: none I don’t think.

A/n: Sorry, this is short. I have been working heaps the past week, but I am still working away at your requests (the Leah x Child!Reader one, the Sam redemption one and I will start on the Barca x Arsenal game one soon) and some other fics. I’m starting Uni soon so will try and get into a more regular posting routine.

“Harper” “Y/N” you and harper exclaimed as you saw each other when you arrived at camp. You loved going to Matilda’s camp because it meant you got to spend time with Harper, you would always been seen together, whether it was playing together off to the side during the occasional training so Linda could take a break, or having tea parties with Linda in the common room while the girls trained, or even just running up and down the halls together, you did everything together. Everything the media team captured melted the hearts of Australia, but the one that everyone seemed to love was the video taken of you two skipping down the tunnel holding hands, as you giggle together.

____

You were on the bench sitting on Sam’s lap, she couldn’t play because she was injured, and offered to look after you. She practically begged Tony to let her, he knew Sam was upset about her injury and so hoped having you there would make it easier, so he said yes, secretly hoping it might help everyone.

You were sporting your mini-Matilda kit, you had a temporary tattoo flag on each cheek, one was an Ireland flag, and the other was an Australia flag. You weren’t really enjoying the game, you didn’t really know who to go for, your Mum’s had never versed each other since you were born, that was until today. You didn’t really like it, they kept tackling each other, your Ma kept making Raso fall over, and Tony kept yelling that she deserved a yellow, no one was happy.

When your Ma hurt herself in the 35th minute, the teams huddled round their coaches as your Ma was getting treatment, you made grabby hands for your Mum, but she didn’t hold you like normal in team huddles, she just brushed the hair out of your face and kissed your forehead, before turning back to listen to Tony, you huffed and looked at Sam whose brows furrowed which made you laugh and you seemed to forget about being mad at your Mum.

During half time your Mum did hold you briefly before you got too squirmy, so she put you down and you ran around the locker room, no one minded though and some secretly hoped that it might mean you would sleep during the second half, considering how antsy and moody you were getting.

You did sleep briefly in the second half falling asleep promptly after Steph scored her penalty however you were woken up by fans yelling at the ref saying, “that’s a foul” “give her a yellow” and some fans booing. You saw that the ref was talking to your Ma, you quickly realised that the fans were booing her, you didn’t like that, she was just doing her job. A tear fell out of your eye, and you quickly buried your head back into Sam’s chest, who realised you were upset due to the ever growing wet patch forming on her chest, so she wrapped a spare puffer jacket around you pulling the hood up so it covered your head, and hugged you tightly, her comfort and your new found safety from the outside world caused you too drift off again.

When you woke back up, you cautiously peered out of your safety bubble and were meet with a warm smile from Sam, you then turned your head towards the field, where the Ireland and Australia players were too similar of a colour for your sleepy eyes. Most of the yellow Matilda’s jerseys had smears of green all over them, you know it’s from the grass which makes you feel icky again as it meant they had been tackled lots. There wasn’t really anything exciting happening, so you decided to go back to sleep.

You had started to wake up again when you felt two hands at your sides, before you were swiftly picked up and placed on the hip of your Mum, she kept the jumper wrapped around you but peered into the hood and she was meet with your little face smiling sleepily at her. “Want to see Ma?” you nodded eagerly.

“Where is my little Munchkin,” you Ma said before she pulled your head down, “there she is” she exclaimed causing you to let out a cute giggle. You get told to smile, while your Mum’s pose for a photo before you are put down, you make your way over to Harper and you both bear hug each other causing you both to fall to the ground before you are in fits of laughter.

“Toddlers are really just like mini drunk people” Mini chuckles.

“Definitely,” your Mum replies.

“She looks happy now, I’m glad” Sam says as she joined the three women, gaining a confused look from your Mums, “She was crying, that’s why she had the puffer around her, I didn’t want any fans or the media capturing it, I thought that would be unfair. I think its probably because it’s the first time she has watched you play against each other, and some of the fans were booing you McCabe.”

“Oh okay, we’ll have a talk with her later.” Your Ma says before kissing your Mum, causing you and Harper to simultaneous whine out “ewwww”.

[winchester-girl67]

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 902 

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

[imaginecolby]

silent sufferer || c.b.

summary: when you sustain an injury while exploring with the boys, you keep it a secret, as to not distract from the investigation. requested by anonymous.

“how are you doin’?” colby asked as he sat down with you. you’d joined him and sam on an investigation, and the three of you were taking a quick break after he and sam ran through the history of the place you were at. you smiled at him and nodded.

“i’m okay.” you said softly. this was your first investigation with the boys, and you were quite nervous. but you put on a brave face, because past all the nerves, were were actually excited. this was something you’ve gotten to watch sam and colby do numerous times, and you were happy that colby invited you along. 

“good.” colby said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “don’t be afraid to speak up if you’re uncomfortable or anything. we can stop at any point.” he said, kissing you again. you nodded, before sam turned his attention to the two of you. 

“alright, are we ready?” he asked, and you and colby nodded in unison. 

as the investigation began, the three of you made your way through the location, capturing a good amount of evidence throughout your first walkthrough. 

you’d become a little on edge, but colby was constantly reminding you that he was there for you, and that you could stop at anytime if you were too scared.

but you pushed through. you really were having a good time. capturing the evidence in real time was something you could never fully explain in words. it was something so crazy, and so intense, it was really life changing.

you’d wandered off on your own after a while, separating ever so slightly from the boys, as you explored the area. you walked carefully, as there were holes and debris all over the floor, that you didn’t want to trip over. you stood quietly by yourself, completely open and allowing spirits to speak or let themselves be known. 

you were having a solo moment, listening for anything that may be present or had a message to share. you were so deep into yourself, that when the boys yelled in reaction to their music box going off, you were genuinely scared. you jumped, tripping over something in the hallway. you caught your fall just before your chin met the floor, but you felt a twinge of pain in your ankle. you brushed it off as you caught back up with sam and colby, listening listened as they recapped for the camera, and stuck together the rest of the night.

as you continued walking around, you could tell that you really messed up your ankle when you fell. you could feel yourself limping, but you tried your hardest to hide it as to not take away from the investigation.

as the night finished up, you helped the boys pack up their equipment, and you began to head back to the hotel. once you returned and made your way up to your room, you hopped in the shower and looked down at your ankle. 

“holy shit.” you sighed. your ankle was bruised all around your ankle. it was definitely worse than you thought. after your shower, you limped down the hall to get some ice. once you filled your bucket, and turned to head back to your room, you saw colby coming out of the sam’s room. as soon as he laid eyes on you, you crumbled under gaze, and suddenly felt like the worse person in the world for hiding your injury from him.

“are you limping?” he asked as you met at your room door.

“yeah.” you said softly. you went into your room, and colby followed close behind. you sat on the bed and lifted up your foot, showing off your ankle.

“y/n, what the hell? why didn’t you say anything?” colby asked. he placed your foot in his lap, placing the ice on your ankle.

“im sorry, i didn’t want to distract from the investigation or anything.” you pouted. colby let out a loud sigh and just shook his head.

“you know that wouldn’t have been a problem. safety comes first for all of us, you included.” he said. you sat there silently, watching colby as he stacked some pillows at the end of the bed to elevate your foot. he replaced the ice around your ankle. “do you think it’s broken?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no. i can still put weight on it, and it’s not excruciatingly painful. i think it’s just this bruised because i fell.”

“you fell?” colby asked, almost in a scolding tone.

“i tripped. i don’t know what it was over, some debris or something. it was too dark and i couldn’t tell what it was.” you explained.

“y/n, you could've gotten seriously hurt.” he sighed.

“but i didn’t!” you joked. colby just stared at you, hurt in his eyes. you knew he worried about you, but you hated feeling like you’d disappointed him. “colby, really. im fine. its just some swelling. i already took some ibuprofen, and it’ll go down.” 

“i just hate feeling like i could've done something to prevent this.” he pouted.

“its okay. this was my own doing. you were working on your video, and i wandered off on my own. it doesn't matter how close we could've been watching each other, we risk getting hurt on every one of these trips.”

“i know, i know. and i know you don’t need me to, but i feel a responsibility to protect you. especially when im the one who invites you on these trips.”

“you don't have to feel bad. it’s not like you pushed me down the stairs or anything.” you laughed. colby huffed a laugh, staring down at your foot in his lap.

“you really fucked this up, didn’t you?” 

“so bad.’ you laughed again. “its actually kind of embarrassing.” you added. colby laughed again, and carefully moved your foot from his lap.

“can i get you anything else?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“im good. thank you, baby.” you said with a smile. he moved to the other side of the bed, climbing in to sit next to you. he draped his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into his side. you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you channel surfed for a while before finding something to watch. you stopped on a random movie, which you barely remember watching before you fell asleep. 

you slept pretty uncomfortably that night, since you were trying to keep your leg still and elevated on the stack of pillows. the next morning was a travel day, as you and the boys were heading back to las vegas. you and colby were moving around your room as he was helping you get ready and pack your things.

“hows your ankle?” he asked.

“i can see that the swelling has already gone down, thankfully. still sore as hell, though.” you said, sliding into your shoes. 

“i still can’t believe you kept this from me.” he said, helping you from the bed and walking with you down the hall.

“well, you know about it now, so, ..” you trailed off. colby just laughed and shook his head. you met sam down in the lobby and made your way to the airport. the flight back wasn’t as bad as you anticipated it was going to be, as you ended up having the row to yourself and could put your foot up on the seats next to you. you slept on and off throughout the flight, and once you finally made it home, colby was insistent on coming with you so he could continue to take care of you. you knew better than to fight him on it, so you and him made your way back to your apartment.

you plopped down on the couch, colby setting up the living room with various snacks and drinks, and making sure you were comfortable. thankfully, after one more day, the swelling and bruising around your ankle finally went down and you were able to walk normally without limping. 

“thank you for taking care of me.” you said with a smile, colby packing up to head back home since you were doing better.

“you don’t have to thank me. that’s what im here for.” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“but im still thankful.” you said, kissing him again. “i love you.”

“i love you.” he repeated, followed by another kiss. you stood at your front door, watching as colby left, waving as he drove down your street and out of sight towards his home.

he really was too good to you. but you appreciated him more than you could ever put into words.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude. 

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along. 

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face. 

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?” 

“Is it?” 

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. 

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates. 

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.” 

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. 

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before. 

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.” 

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed. 

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen. 

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a  response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.” 

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves. 

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.” 

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort. 

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm. 

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap. 

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

[dirtyvulture]

Aftermath

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: Natasha comes to apologize after she unknowingly hurt your feelings.

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Wrote something short(ish), inspired by several anons as a sequel to this ask.

“You want to come over to my place later?” Natasha whispers in your ear.

“No, not really.” You lean over the railing of the balcony, watching as your recruits tackle the muddy obstacle course in groups of five. “Fitz, Hunter, don’t leave your teammate behind like that!” you shout, noticing two bigger male recruits trying to continue on while their smaller female teammate struggles to scale the rock wall on her own. 

“Yes, Sergeant!” they yell back, meekly turning around and offering their hands to the female.

“Why not?” Natasha sounds shocked you would refuse an offer to be in bed with her. But you still haven’t forgotten her comments at the dinner party.

“I have to catch up on some stuff,” you lie.

Natasha frowns, but she doesn’t push the issue.

***********************************************************************

You’re eating a limp sandwich from the chow hall with some of your colleagues, completely tuned out of the conversation. Natasha walks by with her own tray, tempted to sit next to you, but remembering how distanced you felt from her. 

You notice her, but make no acknowledgement of her.

“Maximoff told me he wants to apply to be a sergeant,” Sam Wilson sitting next to you says. “He was asking what you studied to pass your test.”

“Well, if someone like me can pass, then he shouldn’t have to study at all,” you respond, just loud enough for Natasha to hear. 

Her face turns as red as her hair and she hurriedly turns and walks away.

***********************************************************************

You walk out of your bathroom with just a towel wrapped around your waist, water still dripping down your chest and back from your wet hair. You startle when you see Natasha sitting on your bed, completely forgetting that she had access to your room.

“Hi,” she says in a small voice.

“Why are you here?” you dismiss, walking past her to your closet.

“You’re mad at me,” she says.

“I’m not…mad…” you respond not very convincingly. You grab a clean shirt, turning back to face Natasha and notice that her eyes are trailing down your torso, over the muscles of your chest and stomach where your dog tags hang, and the V-line of your hips that narrow past the towel. “Um, Sergeant?” you ask.

“I’m not your sergeant right now,” Natasha says, and this is the first time you’ve heard her say that. She gets up and steps towards you, gently taking the shirt out of your hands. You stare at her, a little confused. Your relationship with her was complicated to say the least. There were no official boundaries or titles, yet you knew this woman was the only one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. But the nature of your job, especially with the power dynamic, made it almost impossible for you two to make any sort of public announcement.

“I just want to be your Nat right now.”

“My Nat?” you repeat, as if you didn’t hear her correctly. She nods, undoing the towel from your waist and letting it fall to the floor. You feel yourself harden under her gaze alone, a little embarrassed how quickly she turns you on. She takes your hand and leads you to your bed, lying down and guiding you on top of her. “Are you sure you don’t want to–” you start, but Natasha quiets you with a kiss, unbuttoning her jeans and kicking them off. 

“I want you right here,” she says, brushing her hands down your sides before grabbing the hem of her shirt and removing it. 

“I lied. I was a little mad at you,” you confess in a jumble as Natasha holds onto your hips and pulls you down so your cock rubs against her stomach. 

“You had every right to be.”

You look down and see your pre-cum shining along her abs, your cock throbbing harder at the idea of slipping inside of her and pumping her full of your cum. 

“Can I…” you start to pant, your fantasies getting the best of you.

“Of course.” 

For once, Natasha is not particularly dominant with you, lying back and letting you do what you want. Your hands circle her smaller waist, pinning her down to the bed as you line up your cock with her dripping center and slowly push in, moaning at the warmth that surrounds you. 

“F-Fuck, Sergeant,” you say, and Natasha corrects you with a click of her tongue. “I…I mean, Nat. You feel so fucking good.”

Your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they pump forward and backward, filling Natasha to the hilt and pulling out until you can see your tip gleaming with your combined fluids. 

“Keep going, Y/N. Just like that,” Natasha guides, pushing her head back into the pillows as you thrust into her. She holds onto your biceps, tracing the line of a scar on your left one from a knife fight back on one of your first assignments.

You grunt as you start to pick up the pace, slamming into harder and her body shakes as your thighs meet hers. It’s almost like sliding through wet silk; there’s no resistance and only a delicious warmth that makes your head spin. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Natasha moans and you feel her walls tighten around your cock, causing you to increase your strength to fill her deeply. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” you gasp, slowing just enough to wait for an answer.

“Cum inside of me,” she says, locking her ankles around your lower back so you couldn’t pull out even if you wanted to. 

You thrust in one final time, feeling yourself lose control and pumping your cum into her hard and fast. You feel light-headed as you lay down softly on her, putting your head on her chest and letting her stroke your hair until you fall asleep.  

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

AN: Safe to say they’re made up? 🤔

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Shaken Not Stirred

Summary: Reader attends an investigation with her boyfriend Sam and best friend Colby. Unfortuantely for her, it doesn't quite go as smoothly as she'd hoped it would.

TW/CW: Reader gets scratched by a ghost and scared a few times. Sam Golbach x Reader

Requested?: No

A/N: Writing a spoopy imagine while watching spoopy Sam & Colby videos all with the lights off aside from red lights to up the spoopiness is fantastic. Surprisingly, I'm less spooped than I would be just watching Sam & Colby vids with the lights on and not multitasking lmao.

Y/N's POV

As we stepped into the abandoned, slightly decrepit haunted prison. We had spoken briefly with a friend of our guide outside before starting this tour and she had warned me, “Girl you are braver than I am.” Upon tilting my head at her, she continued, “I won’t ever step foot in that place after hearing so many stories from other ladies. Stick close to your boys.” Apparently, the entities in this place enjoy messing with and scaring ladies the most.

Colby’s voice brings me out of my thoughts, “Dude, look at this place!” I scan my eyes around the immense entry hall. The cement walls impose a sense of dread. The stuffy sour smell of the place makes my stomach roil.

I instinctively inch closer to Sam who’s at my side. I can already tell the warning wasn’t falsely founded. Just being in here makes me feel extremely uneasy and very unwelcome. Dating a paranormal investigator means I’ve visited plenty of haunted locations but this one was much worse than any other.

As our guide began the tour, I practically glued myself to Sam’s side making him look down at me. “You alright?” He questions, concern written plainly across his face.

I think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah just already feeling unwelcome.”

The guide breaks in, “Ladies typically do feel set apart from the gentlemen. As this was a male only prison, they don’t typically take kindly to female visitors.”

Sam looks even more worried now, “You can always sit this one out.”

I shake my head, “I’m alright for now but I’ll let you know if I need to step out.” Sam nods as our guide takes that as his cue to continue on. The first bit of our tour goes pretty quietly. Just as I am starting to loosen up and shake the uneasiness, I hear someone or something whisper yell very closely to my ear. Having stepped away from Sam, I race back to him and nearly leap into his arms.

“What?!” He questions, voice full of worry, “What happened?”

I look up at him and then around at our group, fear etched across my face, “Did you guys not hear that?” Everyone shakes their heads spurring me to explain, “I just heard something whisper super loud in my ear. Like, I don’t know how you guys didn’t hear it.”

Sam wraps his arms tighter around me, “Do you need a minute?”

I bury my face into his chest to take a few deep breaths before shaking my head, “No, I’m alright. Let’s keep going.” Carrying on with the tour, I keep my head on a swivel and my hand tightly clasped around Sam’s.

By the time we begin our investigations, I’ve loosened up again. Sam sets out the two flashlights after explaining for the video what they do. Colby also sets out a REM pod and shows the camera what it does. As everyone steps away from the devices, the REM pod starts going nuts. “Alright, I guess that’s a good sign that we should get started,” Sam states to the camera. The boys begin bouncing around questions and receiving responses but the REM pod just keeps screaming at us.

Finally, having had enough of the high pitch shrill, I gave up my courage and speak up, “I’m sorry to interrupt boys but whoever is beside our little red light over there could you please step away? It’s starting to hurt my ears.” The device goes silent immediately upon finishing my sentence. Sam, Colby, and I look at each other in shock before they continue on with questioning the flashlights. After only a couple questions and answers, I jump close to Sam. Something had just whispered again. I bury my face in Sam’s chest once more as he rubs my back.

“I heard that one,” Sam says more to Colby than me, “There was a whisper.”

Colby shakes his head, “I didn’t hear it but she sure did,” he says motioning to me. I back away from my shelter and motion for the boys to continue.

After a while and a couple of investigations, Sam and Colby decide it’s time to bring out the Estes Method. As Colby goes under, Sam leans over to whisper to me, “Do you want to sit this one out?” I shake my head but take his hand in mine. Sam begins asking questions and immediately receives answers. As the questions get more intense, I hold Sam’s hand even tighter trying not to show how terrified I am. I know that if Sam knows how scared I am he’ll cut it and we’ll leave.

“Is there anything specific you’d like us to know before we leave?” Sam asks. We receive, “Yeah,” from Colby just as something grabs the back of my neck. I leap from my seat and scream so loud that Colby yanks the headset and blindfold off looking around slightly panicked. Sam jumps up to collect me in his arms, checking me over as I try to calm my shaking and my eyes dart around trying to pinpoint the source of my fear.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Colby asks, standing from his chair.

Sam, whose inspection has brought him around behind me, waves Colby over out of the corner of my eye. Colby steps behind me as I feel Sam lower the back of my shirt slightly and lift my ponytail. “Holy shit,” Colby mumbles as I see a flash and hear a camera shutter.

I hide my face in my hands as Sam gently spins me around to face them. He places his hands on either side of my face, “I’m here. I’ve got you. You are safe,” he pauses taking a deep breath, “Do you want to see it?”

I nod shakily, knowing he’s referring to the picture of whatever is on my back. Colby shows me the screen of Sam’s phone. There is four long scratches from my hairline to between my shoulder blades, thankfully not drawing blood. Saying nothing I simply bury my face in Sam’s chest once again and his arms immediately wrap around me. “She’s shaking,” Colby notes.

“Yeah, we need to leave,” Sam states already moving toward the exit. Colby collects the gear before quickly catching up to us. About halfway to the car, Sam stops and lifts me into his arms. Once we reach the car, Sam opens the passenger door and gently sits me down in the seat. I clutch onto his shirt, not wanting him to pull away but he takes my hands in his, kissing them before placing them in my lap and squatting down in front of me.

Sam brushes my hair away from my face and that’s when I finally notice the same fear from my face copy and pasted onto his. His hands shake slightly as he kisses my forehead. Looking into my eyes once again, “I love you but the next time I see you so shaken just walking into a location, you’re sitting out or we’re leaving. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.” I nod my head and finally seeming content that I’ve calmed down he stands, “Pull your legs in, Darling.” I do as instructed before Sam closes the door and makes his way over to the driver side door as Colby slides into the backseat.

Colby leans forward and pats my head as Sam cranks the car and begins exiting the property. “You’re gonna be okay, Kid,” Colby affirms before he leans back to get comfortable for the ride home. Colby’s always been like a brother to me and no matter how well he hides it, I know he’s just as scared as Sam and I. Sam takes my hand in his as we make our way back to the hotel.

Masterlist

More Sam Golbach Imagines

[lesservillain]

—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week. 

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes. 

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate. 

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone. 

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you. 

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself. 

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face. 

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor. 

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief. 

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle. 

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly. 

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks. 

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again. 

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all. 

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest. 

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone. 

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner. 

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening. 

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening. 

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter. 

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself. 

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more. 

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents. 

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him. 

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light. 

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light. 

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries. 

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode. 

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most. 

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?” 

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.” 

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.” 

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence. 

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day. 

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress. 

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen. 

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever. 

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour. 

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup. 

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label. 

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later. 

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights. 

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day. 

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them. 

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

[bingwriterxo]

drunk

pairing: tara carpenter x freeman!reader

summary: in which you've turned to drinking as a coping mechanism

warnings: talks of stabbing, mentions of throwing up

word count: 1600+

scream 5 spoilers! read at your own risk!

Heavy and rushed knocks on the front door of the apartment drew Tara from sleep. She sat up in her bed with bated breath and turned on her beside lamp as she heard Sam flick her own light on in the bedroom next to hers. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps, her sister's voice as she called out, "Who is it?", muffled noise as whoever was standing out in the hall answered, and then the clinking of locks being undone and the squeak of the door opening. 

Tara waited for a few moments, released the breath she was holding, and wondered if she'd have to get out of bed next. Her question was answered when Sam yelled, "Tara! Can you come in here?"

She slipped out of bed quickly, feet soft against the wood floor, and padded out into the living room. She was greeted by the sight of Sam, who was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, and Mindy and Chad, who were looking at her with worried eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. 

"Tara!" The voice startled her as it came from none of the three people she was staring at, and she ventured farther into the room until she could see over the back of the couch. You were lying there, a wide grin on your face at the sight of the brunette and your arms wide open, like you were expecting her to just lay down right on top of you. "Hi, baby!" you greeted. 

She smiled. "Hi, Y/N."

"She's, like, really fucked up right now," Chad said, and Tara whipped her head up, staring at him with wide eyes. 

"What do you mean 'she's fucked up right now'?"

"He means," Mindy began, causing Tara's attention to fall on her instead, "that she showed up at my dorm like half an hour ago looking for you. She was blubbering like an idiot because she missed you but forgot how to get to your apartment." The girl shrugged. "I went to get Chad and we brought her over here."

"That's the fourth time this week, Tar," Sam interjected carefully, watching her younger sister. "She's been drinking a lot."

Tara glanced down at you, who was staring at her with big, dreamy eyes and clearly not listening to the conversation at hand, and sighed. "I know." She glanced at her friends and sister. "She's...she's still coping with...you know." The brunette didn't have to say the words for them all to understand what she meant: Woodsboro. 

Of them all, you had probably experienced the worst betrayal--Amber was your twin sister, and you had had no idea what she was planning until it happened. The raven-haired girl had stabbed you mercilessly with the idea of leaving no survivors behind, and you nearly died. 

Tara had experienced far too many times the nightmares that you would wake up from, in which your sister was hovering over you again, that same horrible smirk on her face as she dug the knife into you repeatedly. She'd tried to get you to talk about it, but you always refused and instead turned to partying as much as possible, which always resulted in this same ending--you, on her couch, plastered to the point of no return, and her taking care of you. 

Sam sighed. "I'll grab some Advil and water." She turned to Mindy and Chad. "You two can go now, if you want. Or stay." She shrugged. "Either way. Doesn't matter to me." She made her way to the kitchen, and the twins decided to follow her, leaving you and Tara alone in the living room.

"Oh, Y/N," Tara sighed as she rounded the couch. She kneeled beside you and placed her hands on your cheeks gently. You simply watched, leaning into her touch a bit. 

"Hi, pretty girl," you slurred, and, even after having been with you for the past three years, Tara could feel herself blush at the compliment. "Can we go cuddle?"

"Soon, my love." She rubbed her thumb against your skin and leaned closer. Your eyes flitted down to her lips, and she chuckled. "You can't keep doing this to yourself," she whispered. "It's not good for you."

You sucked in a breath. "Yeah."

Tara knew she wasn't going to get a real conversation out of you, not when you were that drunk, but she took that word as a sign that you at least knew that what you were doing wasn't right. She sighed and decided to table the conversation for the morning.

Sam returned then, with the twins in tow, and said, "I left two pills and a glass of water on your nightstand for her when she wakes up."

"Thanks, Sam," Tara said gratefully. She stood up and glanced at you before looking to Chad. "Could you...?"

He nodded and crossed the room, slipping one hand beneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees. He picked you up gingerly and carefully carried you to Tara's room, lying you down on her bed. 

"Be good, champ," he said to you, squeezing your shoulder lightly before telling Tara, "We'll come by tomorrow."

"Okay," the brunette said with a nod, and then he disappeared, shutting the door behind him. She could hear the twins and Sam talking softly in the living room, most likely about the situation at hand, but her attention was focused on you. 

"Can we cuddle now?" you asked.

"Soon," she repeated. "Let me get you out of those clothes." She was gentle as she helped you out of your jeans and top, and then just as gentle as she slipped you into a pair of her pajama shorts and an old soccer t-shirt of hers. "Doesn't that feel better?"

You only hummed in response, and she knew that the alcohol was starting to put you to sleep. She nodded to herself and then climbed into bed beside you, reaching over your body to shut off her lamp. Once the two of you were encased in darkness--save for the small night light Tara had glowing in the corner; she couldn't find it in herself to sleep in the complete dark anymore, and neither could you--she wrapped an arm around your waist and buried her face between your shoulder blades, legs intertwining with your own.

"I wish you'd stop doing this to yourself," she whispered to ears that weren't listening. She held you close and tried to ignore the tears that pricked at her eyes. 

* * *

When she woke up, you were no longer in bed with her, but she could hear you in the bathroom throwing up, and she ran a hand down her face. The noise only lasted for a moment before the flush of the toilet came, and then the sound of the faucet, and then you were standing in her doorway, your palm pressed to your forehead.

"I feel like shit," you mumbled. 

Tara chuckled softly. "Well, you were really drunk last night, so I'm not surprised."

You groaned as you sauntered toward her bed, throwing yourself down on the edge of it. She sat up, rubbing a slow hand down your spine as you sat there, praying for your head to stop pounding. 

"Could you hand me the stuff on your nightstand?" you asked, referring to the pills and water Sam had left there the night before. Tara nodded, shuffling a bit before returning to you, placing the items in your hands.

You took the pills quickly and gulped down the glass of water after them, sighing with relief as the liquid quenched your parched throat. 

Silence blanketed the two of you for a moment before Tara decided to speak up. "That was the fourth time this week that that's happened, Y/N," she said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

You clenched your eyes shut at the thought, releasing a shaky breath. "I know." You turned to her. "And I'm sorry that you keep having to take care of me."

She shook her head. "That's not what I care about. I'm more than happy to take care of you when you need it." She inhaled deeply. "But you can't keep doing this. It's not healthy."

You glanced down, staring at the bedsheets. "I know that, too, but...the only time I can't hear her is when I'm drinking." You swallowed. "Any time else, she's in my head. I don't...I don't know what else to do," you confessed quietly. Tara could see tears brim your eyes. "She won't go away."

"Is it just...that night?" she asked carefully. She didn't want to push, or that would cause you to end the conversation completely, and this was the most she had gotten out of you since the attack happened. 

"No," you said with a shake of your head. "No, sometimes it's just...memories, of growing up. I mean, with our parents gone all the time, we were basically the only family each other had. She...she wasn't great, obviously, but she was still my sister, and I just--" You were trembling, thoughts of Amber swirling around in your head and tears unable to be kept at bay. "I miss her, Tara."

"Y/N..." Tara wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you in, your face burrowing into her neck. She felt as your tears soaked her skin, and she held you tighter. "You're allowed to miss her. It's normal."

"But with everything she did, I feel like I shouldn't," you sobbed. "It's just...it's so much. And I--God, Tara, I just want things back to the way they were."

She ran her hands through your hair. "I know, baby. I know."

"How do I get it to stop? H--how do I stop feeling like this?"

Tara sighed. "It's gonna take time, sweetheart. And talking, too, you know. That'll help."

You pushed yourself further into her. "I'm sorry," you cried.

She shushed you. "What're you apologizing for? You don't have to apologize."

"I've been such a mess recently, and...and you've had to take care of me, and--"

"It's okay. It's okay." She tightened her grip. "You're okay. We'll just...we'll find you a better outlet, okay? That sound good?"

You nodded against her, your sobs quieting a bit. "Thank you. For being here. For sticking with me, after everything."

Tara pulled away just enough to place a kiss against your temple. "I'll always be here. I'm not going anywhere."

[dianawinchester03]

Senior Prom

Series Masterlist

Summary: Going to prom has always been an everlasting dream of y/n, and she’d be damned if her father didn’t let her go. Willing to do anything to get one last taste of a somewhat-normal high-school life.

(Y/N and Sam are 18 years old and Dean is 22 years old)

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

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Authors Note: Since ‘Senior Prom with Sammy’ won the poll I did. I decided to post it since I’m still yet to update Genesis. A lil sum sum to ease our minds lol. I hope everyone likes! I’ve had it in my drafts for a while, it’s been waiting to see the light of day so here you go❤️

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Lake Preston, South Dakota

•2001

“Please, Dad! It's just prom, what harm could it cause?!” Y/N exclaimed frustrated. “Y/N/N, it's not just 'prom'. It's a school event, full of teenagers who are more interested in hooking up than anything else.” F/N grunted, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Mr. L/N, we promise we won't do anything stupid. We just want to have a good time with our friends.” Sam pleaded. “I understand that, son. But your safety is my top priority. You two know the rules.” F/N shook his head and an idea popped into y/n mind.

“Let Dean chaperone then. Please dad, I’ve never asked you for anything. I know I yell and I’m not perfect but this is the last night we have. Since I came out of juvie, this is all I’ve been looking forward to. Please” Y/N tried to reason with him.

F/N took another drag on his cigarette, his expression softening slightly as he looked at Y/N. He could see the pleading desperation in her eyes, the genuine desire to experience something normal for once. He glanced over at Sam, who was standing beside Y/N, a hopeful expression mirrored on his face.

"No, end of discussion" he snapped, his voice stern. Sam’s head hung in defeat, “Yes sir” He sighed before strolling out of the room, moping while Y/N stood with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her father.

“You’re kidding me right?!” Y/N gritted her teeth, her heart aching after seeing the look of defeat on her best friends face. F/N dropped the stern look after Sam left the room, turning his daughter. He rolled his eyes, knowing his daughter was about to let one rip on him, but he had another plan in mind. “Don’t get snippy with me missy. Here” he stuck his cigarette between his lips, holding it in place before fishing his fraud credit card out of his wallet and handing it to his little girl.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as her father handed her the fake credit card. She looked at him with skeptical question. "Your credit card...?" she echoed, her voice trailing off. F/N chuckled, taking the cigarette from his lips and flicking some ash into the nearby ashtray.

"That's right. You'll need money for a dress, shoes, and whatever other girly crap you're gonna need. And buy a suit for Sasquatch too, but don’t tell him until after" he explained. Y/N squealed with excitement, she thought she would’ve had to sneak out and go. Her heart swelled with joy as she grappled her father into a firm hug.

F/N chuckled as Y/N tackled him into a tight hug. He patted her back affectionately, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you!” Y/N squealed. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too" he muttered gruffly, but the warmth in his voice showed he was secretly pleased with her reaction.

As F/N watched Y/N race out of the living room, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall, he couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew that he and John could be tough on the kids, but deep down, he wanted them to have the best in life, even if that meant breaking some rules.

As if on cue, John appeared in the doorway, his expression quizzical. "What was all that racket about?" he asked, his voice gruff. F/N took a drag on his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke before replying. "Y/N and Sam want to go to their prom. She begged and pleaded until I caved" he explained.

John's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "You let them go?" he asked, his voice tight with disapproval. “You don’t get snippy with me either, Winchester” F/N snapped, mimicking John’s expression, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray. “I didn’t like the idea either but you know how y/n/n is. She would’ve sneaked out and gone either way and Sam would’ve followed her. This way, we know they’re safe” F/N grunted.

John clearly didn’t agree, rolling his eyes at his best friend's habit to cave when it comes to his daughter. John ran a hand over his face, his expression tight with frustration. "I know she's tenacious, but you can’t just give in whenever she throws a fit" he protested.

"You think I don’t know that?" F/N snapped back, his voice rising with irritation. "But what was I supposed to do? She's never asked me for anything. Ever." John sighed heavily, clearly still not pleased with the situation. "They’ll need someone to keep an eye on them. Just in case."

“She suggested Dean chaperone. I gave her my card to buy clothes her and Sam, no doubt she’ll buy something for Dean too” F/N explained, a sly smile played on his face for a second, knowing his daughter is probably gonna give Dean hell to chaperone. The elder Winchester would cave to Y/N’s demands too, it made him chuckle a bit.

“They’re kids, John. They deserve a break” F/N sighed. John's expression softened a bit as F/N explained the situation. He knew all too well how persistent Y/N could be when she wanted something.

"She's gonna drive Dean up the wall if he agrees to chaperone," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "He’s gonna agree” F/N assured John with a snort. “They do deserve a break," John conceded reluctantly, "but they’re also hunters, and hunters need to be alert and vigilant at all times. A high school dance is a risky environment."

“The worst that’s gonna happen is someone spiking the punch bowl” F/N scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal. “And they’re not stupid enough to drink it” He added. John shot his best friend a skeptical look, clearly not convinced.

"You're underestimating the chaos that high school dances can bring" John listed off. "Not to mention the hormonal teenagers, the peer pressure, and the drama." F/N rolled his eyes, "You worry too much."

“Clearly not, because she literally just got out of juvie a couple of months ago for beating a girl's ass” John retorted. John’s blunt reminder about Y/N’s recent stint in juvie sent a pang of guilt through F/N’s chest. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know, that’s why I’m a little hesitant about this whole prom thing" he admitted. "She’s got a temper but Dean’s gonna be there. it’s gonna be fine” F/N assured him. “Famous last words” John muttered, causing F/N to roll his eyes as John sank into the couch across from him. “Besides the point, I think I’ve got a hunt.”

F/N perked up at John's words, the mention of a hunt immediately grabbing his attention. "What kind of hunt?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

____________________________________________

A couple of days later, Y/N and Dean stood in a clothing store, surrounded by racks of colorful outfits. Y/N had her fingers on her chin, studying the various dresses on display, while Dean leaned against a nearby wall, a disinterested expression plastered on his face.

"Dude, c’mon, just pick something already," he groaned. “If you complain one more time, I WILL make you wear a pink bow tie” She threatened with a firm finger. Dean shot Y/N a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow at her threat. "You wouldn't dare" he challenged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Try me, Winchester” She retorted, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ll even top it off with a pink bow on your head” She smirked, turning back to the rack. Y/N ruffled through the racks until her eye landed on a sweetheart black ruffled long dress with a slit going up to the mid right thigh.

‘This is it. This is the one’ She said in her head, smiling widely.

Y/N took it off the rack before turning to Dean, showing it to him. Dean's eyes widened as he looked at the dress Y/N held up. It was undeniably beautiful, but it was also... girly as hell. "You want to wear that?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“It’s hot, I’m gonna go try it on” She rolled her eyes before rushing over to the changing room. Dean stood there, watching Y/N disappear into the changing room with a mix of amusement and resignation. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Of course she's gonna choose something 'hot'. Why did I even bother agreeing to come with her?" he muttered to himself.

-

Soon after, Y/N emerged from the dressing room in the dress. Dean was now sitting in-front of the room on the couch, reading a magazine. Dean heard the curtains of the changing room being pulled open and looked up, expecting to see Y/N looking somewhat normal. But when he saw her, his jaw dropped.

The dress hugged her curves in all the right places, the sweetheart neckline revealing a subtle hint of cleavage. The black fabric accentuated her skin, and the ruffles gave the dress a subtle feminine touch.

"Whoa..." he muttered, his eyes widened in surprise. “Say it, I look hot” Y/N smirked triumphantly, placing her hands on her hips.

Dean cleared his throat, attempting to look unaffected by her appearance. “Meh, I’ve seen better” he shrugged, looking back down at his magazine.

A coat rack went flying at his head, the culprit with a glare shooting his way. Y/N stood with her arms crossed.

“Say it” she repeated, her voice firm.

“Fine, you look hot” Dean grumbled, looking back up at her.

Y/N’s face broke out into a victorious grin, knowing she had coaxed a compliment out of him.

“Jesus, if I knew just throwing a coat rack at you would get me a compliment, I would’ve done it years ago” She snorted, reaching to unzip the dress but was unsuccessful. “Help me outta this dress, we’ll go get my shoes after and then we’ll shop for yours and Sam’s clothes” She mumbled, reaching behind to unzip but failing.

Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling slightly at her comment. He put the magazine down and pushed himself off the couch.

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say" he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He walked over to Y/N and unzipped the dress with ease, his hands brushing against her exposed skin as he did so.

A blush rose to y/n face as her breath hitched, a simple touch from Dean had her heated already. But she quickly schooled the act and went back into the dressing room. Stripping out of her clothes, changing back into her usual wear and making her way back of Dean.

-

“Ready, charming?” She asked after paying for the dress. Dean chuckled at her sarcastic nickname for him, but nodded. "Sure, princess" he said with a mock bow. "Lead the way." Y/N threw her head back laughing at his mock bow, leading the way out of the store.

-

Now in the gentleman’s store, Y/N shoved the outfit into Dean's hands, a black bow tie and three piece suit. Pushing him into the dressing room to try it on. Dean walked into the changing room, holding the suit and bowtie in his hands. He took in a deep breath as he looked down at the bowtie, silently cursing himself for agreeing to go shopping with Y/N.

After a few moments, he re-emerged from the dressing room, looking less than pleased with what he was wearing. The suit fit him perfectly, hugging his toned frame in all the right places. But the bowtie around his neck looked ridiculously out of place.

Y/N laughed at the way the bow tie hung, getting up from her chair to help him fix it. “Jesus dude, I’ve shown you how to do this like a million times” She chuckled, fixing the bow tie.

"I know, I know" Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes as Y/N fussed over the bowtie. He watched her with feigned annoyance, but secretly he enjoyed a moment when she was so close to him. Feeling the heat of her body against his, the scent of her perfume.

"You know, you're enjoying this too much," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “You know I always had a thing for playing dress up” She said snidely before taking her hands off his tie. “Okay, now to Sammy’s outfit” She clapped excitedly

Dean chuckled at her comment, shaking his head. "Of course you do."

-

The pair headed to the next department, where they found a selection of suits for men. Y/N immediately started rifling through the racks with excitement, her eyes scanning for something Sam would like.

“Maybe we should get him something to match your three piece suit?” Y/N suggested, rubbing her chin as she thought deeply. "Matching outfits?" Dean grunted, looking down at his own suit. "What am I, a groomsman or something?"

He leaned against a nearby rack as he watched Y/N peruse the selection of suits. She was clearly in her element here, and he couldn’t help but smile at the look of concentration on her face, her brows furrowed in that way she did when focused.

“Shut up, I’m thinking” She muttered, before scanning the room before her eyes landed on a white three piece suit. It was similar to Deans, except the outter layer was white and the inner piece was black, with a white bowtie. Deans suit being a black outer layer, inner white layer and a black bow tie. It was the perfect match for her black dress and Deans black suit. Seeing as Sam was practically her prom date. It would make sense to match.

Dean followed her line of sight and saw the suit she had her eyes on. It was simple yet elegant, just like Y/N. He had to admit, the idea of him and Sam being matching in their suits was growing on him.

"Looks like you’ve found what you’re looking for" he teased, pushing himself off the rack and walking over to where she stood.

Y/N squealed again before rushing over to the store attendant. “Hi, I’d like to get that suit” She pointed to the suit. “In the largest size please” The store attendant nodded with a small smile. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll go fetch it for you.”

The attendant disappeared into the back room, leaving Y/N and Dean alone again. Dean glanced over at Y/N, amused at her excitement. "You're awfully chipper about all of this" he commented, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ve dreamed about prom for years and it’s finally happening. Of course I’m excited” Y/N gushed. “And I’m happy you fellas are coming with me” She added, nudging Dean a bit. Her eyes flickered over to the cash register counter, the store sold an array of corsages and boutonnières.

She strolled over, her eyes landing on a white corsage and a black boutonnière along with a white one. Dean chuckled at her answer, unable to resist the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Her excitement was contagious.

"Well, we wouldn’t want to miss out on your special night" he teased, watching as she made her way over to the counter. His eyes followed her to the corsages and boutonnières, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What do you think?” Y/N held up the two boutonnières and corsage. “One for you, one for Sammy and one for me” she smiled. “Since he doesn’t know still and we’re surprising him, I can ask him to prom with this” She waved the black boutonnière.

Dean looked at the two boutonnières and corsage in her hands, admiring the simplicity and elegance of the black and white combination. A warm feeling filled him as he realized the significance Y/N placed on this.

“It’s a good idea” he admitted, nodding. “Sam will probably get a kick out of the whole surprise thing. He’ll think it’s cute.”

-

Y/N hummed happily as they walked back into the house. She was carrying the small bag that contained the boutonnière and corsage while Dean was loaded up with the bags with her dress, shoes along with him and Sam’s outfits.

John and F/N had already left for their hunt, leaving a little note on the counter about their absence. Basically saying Dean was in charge and to make sure to be home by 11 on prom night, since the hunt would most likely go until after prom.

Bobby, John and F/N had a bit of a falling out. And by bit, I mean Bobby pointed a gun at them for disappearing without any notice for months after Y/N came out from juvie, leaving their kids by him worried they were dead. Bobby didn’t have an issue with the kids staying but the fact that their dads didn’t say a word for months, it riled him up just a tad.

So they’re staying at F/N’s Lake Preston’s house, a little over half hour drive from the school.

Dean stood there, looking comical with the number of bags in his hands. The suit bags were slung over his shoulders, each one weighing him down. The shoes, accessories, and other miscellaneous items for Y/N, Sam, and himself were balanced in his arms, making it difficult for him to see past the mountain of clothes.

"Why the hell did I agree to carry all this crap?" he grumbled, adjusting his grip on the bags awkwardly. “Because you can’t say no to me” Y/N grinned, taking the suit bags slung on his shoulder from him after resting down the flowers.

Dean rolled his eyes, secretly enjoying the little grin that spread across her face. He grunted as some of the weight left his arms, and he shot Y/N a mock glare.

"Yeah, something like that" he chuckled. Y/N reached into the small bag, picking up the black boutonnière she got Sam as Dean rested the rest bags on the living room couch, next to the suits. He followed behind her as she led the way to the staircase.

Y/N knocked on the door to the room Dean and Sam shared. “Sammy, you in there?”

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Sam. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and it looked as though he had just woken up from a nap.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here" Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Y/N and Dean with bleary eyes. "What's up?"

Y/N held up the black boutonnière with a wide smile, “Samuel William Winchester, would you do me the honor of going to prom with me?” She said dramatically, placing the back of her hand over her forehead like a southern belle.

Sam's eyes went wide at the fact that she convinced their dads to let them go and Dean stood with his arms crossed next to her, leaning on the door frame as he watched the whole theatric, snickering.

Sam was caught completely off guard by Y/N's proposition. He looked at her, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation, and glanced over at Dean, who was enjoying the whole thing way too much.

"Um, I—“ Sam stuttered, still trying to process the fact that Y/N had managed to get both their dads' permission to go to prom. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

“After you left, dad gave me his card and suggested I surprise you” She explained, handing him the boutonnière. “So is that a yes or so I have to get down on one knee?” She teased her best friend.

Sam chuckled, taking the boutonnière and inspecting it in his hands. It was simple yet elegant, just like her style. He looked down at Y/N and smiled, "You're insane" He snorted.

He shook his head in disbelief. "Of course it's a yes, you crackhead. Did you really think I'd say no to free food and a chance to get all dressed up?" Y/N squealed again, clapping her hands as she jumped up and down, making Dean stick his fingers in his ears while grimacing.

"Jesus Christ" Dean muttered as Y/N squealed, glaring at her with exaggerated annoyance while plugging his ears. "My eardrums are gonna explode if you keep doing that" He grumbled, pulling his fingers out of his ears.

Sam chuckled at his brother's reaction. He couldn't help but find it amusing how both Y/N and Dean had drastically different reactions to her excitement. “I will do it again if you keep complaining, asshat” She threatened.

____________________________________________

It was finally the day of the prom and the house had exploded with chaos. The sound of hairdryers, laughter, and the occasional argument filled the air as the two teenagers and Dean got ready for the night.

Y/N had taken over the bathroom, claiming it for herself while the boys got ready in their room. She had already put on a sleek black dress, which hugged her body at all the right places, making her look like a princess. She was now standing in front of the mirror, applying the final touches to her lipstick.

She smiled content at the way she looked, a slight pit was in her stomach, missing her dad for not being here to see her dressed up for prom.

Y/N took a deep breath as she stood there, taking in her reflection. She looked beautiful, confident, and happy. Despite the absence of her dad, she was filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness for the night ahead.

Just then, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey, any princesses in there?" Dean's voice sounded from the other side, a hint of playful mockery in his tone. “Just one” Y/N joked, opening the door.

Dean stood there, his eyes widened slightly as he saw her standing in front of him. The black dress she wore hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating all of her curves in the most sinful way. He had to admit, she looked breathtaking.

"Damn" he muttered, his eyes raking up and down her body. “Told you I look hot” She smiled widely, moving over to the sink to get his white boutonnière. Her gaze flickered over to his bow tie which was surprisingly fixed properly, “Sam helped you with it, didn��t he?” She snickered, gesturing to the bow tie while pinning the boutonnière to his pocket.

Dean's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink when she mentioned the bowtie. He looked down at the flower pinned to his tux and nodded, "Yeah, he did. Damn nerd insisted it was crooked" he grumbled.

He couldn't help but notice the way Y/N's dress dipped down, revealing a hint of cleavage. He forced his eyes to stay focused on her face, trying to keep his thoughts in check.

“I’m sure it was” She chuckled, still making sure to fix the bow tie. “You don’t look to bad yourself, handsome” She breathed out, taking in Dean’s attire she articulately picked out herself.

Dean smirked at her compliment, his ego swelling a bit at her words. He shifted on his feet, enjoying the way her eyes roamed over his body, taking in his appearance.

"Yeah, you've got taste" he quipped, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards in a cocky grin. "I do look pretty damn good, don't I? That's a rhetorical question by the way, cause the answer is obviously yes"

That earned him a smack to his arm, “Don’t ruin my compliment with sass, boy” Dean chuckled, the smirk still tugging on his lips as she smacked his arm. He raised his hands in surrender, feigning innocence. "Hey, hey I'm just stating facts, princess" he said, his voice oozing with confidence.

He took a step closer to her, his gaze roaming over her body once more. "But I do have to say, you look absolutely stunning" he added, his voice dropping an octave. “Thank you” Her cheeks flushed before clearing her throat. “Is Sammy ready?” She asked, walking past Dean and out of the bathroom.

Dean followed behind her, his eyes lingering on her figure for a moment before he answered her question. "Yeah, he's been ready for ages. I told him not to be late" he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice as they made their way to the living room.

As if on cue, Sam emerged from the stairs, dressed in his white suit and black boutonniere pinned on his lapel. He looked nervous, his eyes darting between Y/N and Dean. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re gonna throw up” Y/N asked him concerned.

Sam chuckled nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "It's nothing, I just... I haven't been to a school dance before, that's all" he admitted, looking down at his shoes.

Dean rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "You've hunted wendigos and ghosts but you're nervous about a bunch of teenagers in a gym? Get a grip, Sammy" he teased, unable to resist getting a dig in.

Y/N chuckled before taking her best friends hand into hers, “It’s gonna be fine man. If I’m being honest, so am I. But we’ve been through worse” She reassured him. “Besides, you look great! I’m sure that Cindy Wu gal you’ve been crushing on is gonna wanna dance with you” She teased while complimenting him.

Sam's cheeks turned pink at the mention of Cindy Wu. He had harbored a secret crush on her for ages, but he hadn't had the courage to talk to her. The thought of dancing with her, especially in this setting, made his heart race.

"Shut up" he muttered, shoving Y/N playfully in the shoulder. "And stop talking like you're in one of those teen movies" he added with a smirk.

“First of all, you fellas love those movies” She said snippy, “And second of all, if I were in a teen movie. I’d be the damn heart throb, now it’s picture time. Chop chop.” Sam laughed as Y/N spoke, clearly amused by her confident and sassy attitude.

Dean shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright" he said, holding up his palms in mock surrender. "We'll take the damn prom pictures."

He went over to the bookshelf in the living room and grabbed a small camera. He turned back to Y/N and Sam, gesturing for them to pose.

Sam and Y/N posed, Y/N wrapping her arm around Sam’s waist and Sam’s arm residing on her shoulder. "Smile for the camera" Dean said in a mock cheesy voice, pointing the camera at the two young adults.

Sam looked a bit awkward while Y/N flashed her brightest smile, sticking her tongue out slightly. Dean chuckled at their expressions, his finger hovering over the shutter release. "Ready?"

“Just take the damn picture!” Sam and Y/N exclaimed in unison. Dean chuckled to himself, finding their synchronized response hilarious. "Alright, alright" he said, still holding the camera. "On three, act cool"

He counted down in reverse, "3...2...1..."

He snapped the picture, capturing their goofy expressions perfectly. “Okay, now Sammy, hop on y/n/n back” Dean smirked.

Sam shot Dean a confused look, raising an eyebrow at his sibling's request. "What? Why do I have to hop on Y/N's back?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Y/N, on the other hand, looked excited at the prospect. "Oh, come on, Sam! It'll be fun!" she encouraged, already turning her back towards him, signaling for him to hop on.

Sam just shrugged shrugged and went along with it. He stood behind Y/N as she bent down slightly so he could hop onto her back.

"You better not drop me" he warned her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders for stability. “Listen dipshit, it’s not my fault your Sasquatch ass is heavy now just hop on”

Sam rolled his eyes at her remark, knowing she was just trying to annoy him. He let out a exaggerated sigh as if he was going through an ordeal. "Fine" he said, feigning annoyance as he hopped onto her back.

Y/N let out a slight grunt as she straightened up, adjusting herself to balance his weight. "You're like a baby gorilla" she joked, holding onto his legs to keep him from slipping. Dean was in hysterics at this, holding up the camera.

He couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at the sight of Y/N piggybacking Sam. The sheer size difference between them made it look so absurd, yet hilarious. He held up the camera, trying his best to keep it steady while laughing.

"Alright, say cheese" he managed to get out between laughs, composing himself slightly to take the picture.

Sam grumbled, his cheeks flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and slight annoyance. "I hope you're happy" he muttered, trying to keep his balance on Y/N's back.

Y/N simply ignored his complaints, flashing a cheesy smile at the camera. "Come on, this is fun!" she teased, bouncing slightly to rile him up even more.

Dean burst out laughing again, trying to capture the perfect shot. "This is priceless" he managed to say, shaking his head in amusement.

Y/N let a grumpy Sam down as Dean walked over and handed Sam the camera. Sam took the camera reluctantly, still looking a bit moody about the whole piggyback situation. He held it up and looked through the viewfinder.

"Okay, it's your turn now" he said, looking over at Dean. Dean raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "What, are you gonna give me a piggyback too?" he teased. “Fuck no, I’d like to keep my back in one piece” Y/N huffed, resting her hand on Deans chest to pose for the picture.

Dean chuckled, enjoying her touch on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. He leaned down slightly to be level with her.

"You look beautiful by the way" he murmured, his breath close to her ear. Y/N’s breath hitched again as Sam looked at the two with raised eyebrows and a sly smile on his face.

Silently praying that by the end of tonight, these two would finally just end it all and get together. “Take the picture, Sam” Y/N cleared her throat, swallowing hard.

Sam smirked, the sly smile on his face deepening. He could see the chemistry between the two, the fact that they were yet to act on it was starting to get annoying. "Okay, okay" he said, rolling his eyes slightly. He raised the camera up, looking through the viewfinder.

Dean pulled Y/N even closer, their bodies practically flush against each other. His eyes locked onto hers, a hint of longing and desire flashing through them.

Sam took the picture, capturing the tension palpable between the two. He lowered the camera, a knowing smile on his face. “Alright” Y/N chimed, pulling away from Dean. “Let’s go fellas, chop chop” She clapped her hands excitedly.

____________________________________________

Sioux Falls High, Sioux Falls, South Dakota

The air was alive with excitement. The school's gymnasium was transformed into a sea of glitzy decorations. Music thumped through the air as couples danced together, their laughter and chatter echoing throughout the room. The gym was all decked out for the occasion. There were silver and black balloons, a disco ball spinning above the dance floor, and a big banner that read "Class of 2001"

Dean, Sam, and Y/N entered the gymnasium, their eyes widening at the sight before them. Sam’s right arm was linked into Y/N’s left and Dean’s left arm was linked into Y/N’s right.

“Holy fuck” Y/N gasped. Sam's eyes were also wide, taking in the sights and sounds of the prom. "Whoa, the place looks great" he commented, his gaze flickering around the room.

Dean chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Just wait till the party really gets going" Dean snorted, his eyes immediately went to the snack table. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's comment, knowing that his mind was on food. "Can't even go five minutes without thinking about food" he muttered under his breath.

Y/N, on the other hand, was looking around for any familiar faces, her eyes scanning the room. “Let’s go get a drink while Dean goes and stuffs his face” Y/N suggested to Sam.

Sam chuckled in agreement. "Let's get out of here before he starts drooling" he joked.

With that, the two of them headed towards the refreshments table, leaving Dean alone to make a beeline for the snack table. Eyeing the food like a hawk before diving in.

Over at the punch table, Sam poured Y/N a drink, handing it to her before pouring his own. Y/N thanked Sam graciously, taking a sip of her drink along with Sam. Their eyes widened, coughing when the taste of vodka seeped into their taste buds and hit the back of their throats.

"Whoa, they went all out spiking these huh?" Y/N commented, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Sam nodded, his expression a mix of surprise and slight amusement. "Yeah, no kidding. This stuff is strong" he said, taking another smaller sip this time.

“Uh uh uh, it’s prom night” Y/N tilted Sam’s glass more so he would drink it all. “We’re enjoying ourselves, Dean’s the designated driver so we’re partying like there’s no tomorrow”

Sam looked slightly hesitant at first, not wanting to get too drunk too quickly. However, the thought of letting loose and having a good time swayed him.

"Alright, alright" he said, downing the rest of his drink. "But if I end up puking on someone, you're cleaning it up" he warned Y/N with a grin.

“You know damn well I’m puking on you too if you puke infront of me” She grimaced, shaking her head in disgust. “Plus, when I am gonna see you again to coax you into getting drunk with me....” She said a bit sadly. Sam had gotten his acceptance letter to Stanford but he had yet to tell John, F/N or Dean.

The secret has been tumultuous to keep from their family but they knew how they would react to Sam leaving.

Sam's smile faded a bit, a pang of guilt hitting him. He knew he needed to tell his family about his acceptance to Stanford, but he had been putting it off, afraid of the explosive reaction that would surely follow.

"Yeah, I know" he responded softly, his gaze meeting Y/N's. "I just... I'm not ready to tell them yet. Especially Dean, you know how defensive he gets"

“I know, Sammy” She smiled sadly. “But I’m proud of you” She added genuinely. Sam smiled weakly, his heart warming to hear that from his best friend. He always valued and respected her opinion, so when she pushed him to go to college after being skeptical about taking the leap, he dove head first in.

But that didn’t stop the guilt from lingering at the fact that he was gonna leave her and Dean to deal with their fathers wraths. She expressed that she had no desire to go to college but he knew that was bullshit, and now with her record. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t.

“Thanks, Y/N" he said, his voice soft.

-

Sam and Y/N stayed stationed at the punch bowl, four to five drinks in. The teens were getting pretty tipsy at this point.

Suddenly, the music changed to, ‘Quit Playing Games With My Heart’ by Backstreet Boys, prompting an excited scream from Y/N. "Oh my God, I love this song!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her heels. "Come on, let's dance!"

She grabbed Sam's hand, pulling him towards the dance floor without giving him a chance to protest. Sam let himself be dragged by Y/N, feeling the effects of the alcohol in his system. His head was slightly fuzzy, and he found himself not minding a bit of dancing.

“Even in my heartttt…I seeee….You’re not being true to meee” Y/N sung as she swayed to the song with Sam. As they reached the dance floor, Sam felt the infectious energy of the song and found himself swaying to the beat with her. Hearing Y/N sing along made him chuckle. "You have the singing skills of a dying cat," he teased.

Y/N flipped him off as she danced along with her best friend. Sam laughed, the middle finger in his direction not bothering him in the slightest. He was enjoying himself, dancing and laughing with Y/N. The alcohol had done its thing, he felt lighter, more carefree than usual.

As the song played on, Sam found his moves getting more exaggerated and carefree. He spun Y/N around suddenly, and they erupted into a fit of giggles.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here” A voice boomed behind Y/N, she spun around her eyes wide to see her ex boyfriend, Xander. They had broken up not too long after she came out of juvie. She knew once she graduated, she wouldn’t have been able to keep the relationship going.

Xander expressed his desire to become a police officer after witnessing the complete injustice Y/N faced with her charges. It warmed her heart incredibly but with the line of work her family was in, she didn’t want to put him in danger.

So she ended things, lying to Xander about getting into Stanford with Sam. Since Xander was gonna stay in Sioux Falls, a blind man could see that long distance wasn’t gonna work for either of them. He was heartbroken and so was she, but it was for the best and the two parted on good terms.

Y/N was caught off guard by Xander's sudden appearance. Her heartrate picked up as she turned to face him, memories of their short-lived relationship flooding back to her.

She remembered the good times they shared, his support in the aftermath of her time in juvie, but also how she had to lie to him about her future plans, saying she wrote a riveting essay to the college and got accepted despite her record. It had been for the best, but it still hurt.

She put on a smile, masking the turmoil she felt in the moment. "Hey, Xander" she greeted him with a small smile. Sam, sensing the tension between Y/N and Xander, stood quietly next to her. He knew Y/N had ended things with Xander, his mind going back to the night she bawled her eyes out in his arms after pulling the plug on the relationship.

He could sense the unease in Y/N's voice and knew this was a delicate moment. Xander's expression was a mix of surprise and nostalgia as he looked at Y/N. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing seeing her again. "You look good," he commented, a slight waver in his voice.

“Thank you, you look great” She greeted back with flushed cheeks. “Hey Alex” Sam greeted Alexander with the typical bro-fist-bump they always did when him and y/n were together. Xander returned the greetings with a slight nod at Sam and a smile at Y/N. "Hey man" he said to Sam.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the three of them stood together, the tension between Y/N and Xander still hanging in the air. Sam, being the perceptive one, could feel the tension. He tried to break the ice. "So, enjoying the prom?" he asked, looking between the two.

"Yeah, it's great" Xander replied, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her dress, feeling the intensity of Xander's gaze. A million thoughts were running through her mind. She didn't expect to see him here, especially after their breakup and her lies.

"We're just about to get another drink" Sam chimed in, sensing Y/N's discomfort. Y/N’s eyes flickered to a little distance behind him, a familiar face made an idea pop into her head, though she was already planning this long before. “Oh my god, is that Cindy Wu? Sammy, it’s Cindy” She nudged Sam behind her.

He recognized Cindy Wu, a girl he had had a low-key crush on for ages. His ears perked up as Y/N mentioned her name, and he looked around to see Cindy standing with a group of her friends a few feet away. “Xander, could you give us a second. I just wanna introduce Sam and Cindy” Y/N said politely to her ex boyfriend.

Xander looked slightly taken aback by the request, but he nodded. "Sure" he relented.

Sam shot Y/N a questioning glance, clearly puzzled by her actions. But before he could say anything, Y/N had grasped his wrist and was pulling him towards where Cindy stood.

“Cindy, hi!” Y/N greeted Cindy with a sweet smile. Cindy turned her head towards Y/N, her face lighting up in recognition. "Y/N! Hi!" she replied happily, returning the smile. Her eyes then went to Sam, who was trying to keep his cool demeanor, but failing miserably.

“Girl, you look gorgeous” She gushed at Cindy’s beautiful baby blue corset dress. Cindy blushed at the compliment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you! You look amazing yourself" she said, her eyes flickering over to Sam for a brief moment.

Sam was now blushing heavily, fiddling with the collar of his shirt nervously. “Thanks sweetie” She smiled widely, “I’m sure you know my friend, Sam” Y/N nudged Sam towards Cindy. Sam stumbled forward slightly, his eyes widening as Y/N pushed him towards Cindy. He took a deep breath, plastering on a shy smile.

"H-Hi, Cindy" he stuttered, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He mentally cursed himself for being so nerv. Cindy giggled slightly at Sam’s nervous behavior, the sight endearing to her. "Hey, Sam" she greeted in response, her voice soft.

Y/N stood back, watching the interaction between the two. This was exactly what she had planned. She knew Sam had a crush on Cindy, and she hoped that maybe this would be the night he finally made a move.

Sam’s heart was hammering inside his chest, nervousness and alcohol coursing through his veins. He tried to compose himself, to seem more confident than he was.

“You look very handsome Sam” Cindy gushed, blushing profusely. Sam's cheeks were now aflame, his whole face turning red. He wasn’t used to receiving compliments from girls, let alone from a girl he had a crush on.

He tried to think of something charming to say, something to keep the conversation going. But his mind was blanking, consumed by her beauty and her praise.

"T-thank you" he managed to stutter out, his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets. "Yeah, you look beautiful" Sam managed to stutter out, his cheeks redder than ever. “L-like a peacock” Sam slurred, gesturing to her blue dress and her perfectly styled hair.

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes and facepalmed internally. Oh God, these two are as hopeless as each other, she thought to herself.

Cindy let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing further at Sam's comment. She was charmed by his awkward attempts at flirting, finding it endearing.

"Thank you, Sam" she said with a nervous stutter, clearly unsure of what to say next. She fidgeted with her dress, glancing from Sam to Y/N and then back to Sam.

Y/N could feel the palpable awkwardness between the two. She knew they both liked each other, but neither one was making the first move. She wanted to shove them into each other and just make them kiss.

“Okay….well I’m gonna go…enjoy” Y/N snickered before excusing herself back to Xander. Sam watched as Y/N left, his heart rate increasing even further. Now he was left alone with Cindy, the girl of his dreams, and he had no idea what to do or say.

Cindy glanced at Y/N, watching her leave with a smile. Then she turned back to Sam, her eyes studying him for a moment. She was nervous too, but she didn’t want to show it.

“So, you having fun?” she asked casually, trying to start up a conversation.

-

“Oh my god, they’re like puppies” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she poured herself a drink. Xander laughed, sipping his punch, his eyes trained on the way she wobbled due to the alcohol in her system.

Dean stood by the snack table, idly munching on some chips as he watched the festivities unfolding around him. His eyes zeroed in across the gym in Y/N’s direction.

His gaze landed on Y/N and Xander, the two standing close together, an air of familiarity between them. He watched as Y/N poured herself a drink, her movements a tad sloppy, indicating she was tipsy.

His eyes darkened slightly as he took in the scene, a pang of jealousy stirring within him. He hadn't expected to see Y/N so buddy-buddy with her ex-boyfriend, and the sight didn't bode well with him.

Back at the punch table, “So, how are you?” Y/N asked Xander casually, sipping her vodka laced punch. Xander took a moment to respond, his eyes tracing over Y/N's face. He saw the slight flush on her cheeks thatindicated she was a bit drunk.

"I'm okay" he finally answered, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. "Better than okay, actually. But what about you? And honestly" he added, his gaze fixed on her.

“I’m getting by” She sighed with a nod. “It’s good to see you though” Xander’s expression softened at her words. “It’s good to see you too” he agreed, his tone sincere.

He glanced over her shoulder for a moment, noticing Sam and Cindy a few feet away dancing. He turned his attention back to Y/N, an amused smile on his lips. “Looks like your boy is finally making a move,” he teased, jerking his head in Sam’s direction, where Sam was awkwardly dancing with Cindy, their bodies a safe distance apart.

“Oh my god” Y/N laughed hysterically at the way they awkwardly moved, “He’s growing up” She joked, holding up her punch. Xander chuckled along with her, his eyes drifting back to Sam and Cindy. “It’s a sight isn’t it?” he commented, watching the two of them dance.

He took in Y/N's relaxed demeanor, the tension that usually coiled around her when they were in public had faded, replaced with a comfortable ease. He was happy to see her so at ease.

“Yeah…” Y/N smiled, turning back to Xander. “So…” She cleared her throat. “Have you heard back from the academy?” Xander's expression changed at the question, a hint of pride in his eyes. He had been working hard to get into the police academy.

"Yeah, I did actually" he responded, a small smile on his lips. "I got accepted last week"

“What?! Xander that’s amazing!” She hugged him, “I’m so happy to hear that, you’re gonna be the best cop in Sioux Falls” Xander hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. He had worked so hard to get into the academy, and it felt good to have someone genuinely proud of him. "Thanks, I'm really excited" he said, his voice filled with excitement.

The clearing of a throat behind Y/N startled them both, their gazes darted to the direction of the sound to see Dean. Dean stood a few feet away from the pair, his arms crossed over his chest, and a slightly brooding look etched on his face.

He took in the sight of Y/N and Xander together, his eyes flickering between the two of them. “How was the snack table?” Y/N chimed. Dean's gaze landed on Y/N, taking in her slightly tipsy state. He could tell that she had definitely had her fair share of punch.

He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool despite the jealousy that was building up within him. "It was fine" he grumbled, his eyes flickering briefly over to Xander before returning to Y/N.

Xander's ears pricked up at the unexpected appearance of Dean, sensing the tension in the air. His eyes darted between Y/N and Dean, silently taking in the dynamic between the two.

He narrowed his eyes a bit, tilting his head as the wheels turned in his head.

Wait a damn minute…. Xander thought to himself.

He was used to the cold demeanor of the older Winchester, but the look Dean was giving him now was particularly hostile. “Dean, how have you been?” Xander asked in a friendly tone, stretching his hand out to shake Dean’s.

Dean eyed Xander's outstretched hand for a moment, his expression cold and unwelcoming. But he relented, shaking Xander's hand firmly but not warmly. "Good" he grumbled in response, his reply short and curt.

How did I not see it before? Damn… Xander internally chided himself.

He chided himself for being so blind and in love with Y/N that he didn’t realize the reason Dean was so cold with him was because…well…he felt the same way he did about the same girl.

Y/N looked down at her punch and back up to Xander, her mind fuzzy. “Well, it was great to see you, Xander. Really. Congratulations, again…I’ll see you around” She chimed before reaching up to kiss his cheek. Taking Dean’s hand into hers and leading him away.

Xander smiled warmly, appreciative of Y/N's congratulations and her goodbye. He tried his best to ignore Dean's icy demeanor, knowing how protective the older Winchester brother was of Y/N.

As Y/N took Dean's hand and led him away, Xander couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. He had cared about Y/N deeply during their time together, and seeing her with Dean now was a constant reminder of what he had lost. But he didn't show it, just smiled and watched them walk away.

Now on the dancefloor, “What was that about?!” Y/N gritted her teeth at Dean as they made their way to the dance floor. Dean was slightly taken aback by Y/N's sudden shift in mood. He was used to her fiery nature, but her anger still caught him off guard.

"What was what about?" he asked, feigning innocence, even though he knew exactly what she was referring to. “You practically cockblocked me man” She groaned.

Dean's eyes widened, taken aback by her choice of words. Cockblocked? That was a new one. "I did no such thing" he protested, his tone defensive. "I just came over to say hello" He added weakly.

“You barely said a word” She snorted, shaking her head in amusement. “It was kinda awkward though.” She chuckled, swaying to the music. Dean couldn't deny that the interaction had been a tad awkward. Seeing Y/N cozy with her ex-boyfriend had spiked a pang of jealousy within him, and he hadn't exactly been subtle about it.

“Dance with me” Y/N suggested, as ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’ by *NSYNC started playing in the prom. Dean shot her a look, a mix of surprise and reluctance on his face. He was not a big fan of dancing, especially in public.

But the pleading look in Y/N's eyes was enough to break down any protest he had. He let out a long-suffering sigh and resigned himself to her request. "Alright, alright" he agreed reluctantly, taking her hand and stepping closer to her on the dance floor.

“Every little thing I dooo, never seems enough for youuuu. You don’t wanna losee it like againn. But I’m not like themm” Y/N swayed drunkenly, wrapping her arms around Deans shoulders, singing along to the song.

Dean allowed himself to be pulled along, his movements a bit stiff and awkward next to her fluid swaying. He chuckled at her drunken singing, finding her carefree attitude amusing despite his initial resistance.

“Baby when you fi-na-llyy, get to love some-bo-dyyy. Guess whatt? It’s gonna be me” Dean sang along with her.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sound of Dean singing. She didn't expect him to join in, but the surprise quickly gave way to a wide grin.

She tightened her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as they danced. She was tipsy and carefree, the alcohol making her less inhibited than usual.

"Aww, look at you, singing along like a pro, Winchester" she teased, laughter in her voice. “I thought you didn’t sing those, and I quote, ‘teeny poppy girly songs’” She snorted, quoting his words to her when she would listen to songs like this.

Dean gave her a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushing slightly. He had indeed made such a comment in the past, but seeing Y/N enjoying the song, he couldn’t help but join in.

"Hey, I make exceptions" he retorted, trying to maintain some level of coolness. "And I might have listened to a few of those ‘teeny poppy girly songs’ on my own time" he admitted reluctantly. “No shit” She snickered dancing with him.

Dean tried to hide his embarrassment, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. "Alright, alright, you’ve had your chuckle" he grumbled, trying to act grumpy but the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As the song continued, he found himself getting more into the rhythm, dancing with less restraint. The closeness between them, coupled with Y/N's carefree attitude, made it difficult to stay stoic.

Y/N's body was pressed up against Dean's, swaying to the music. She could feel the heat radiating off him, his hands on her waist sending a jolt through her.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes clouded with drunken affection. She was feeling brave, maybe even a little reckless, spurred on by the alcohol.

She leaned in closer to him, whispering so only he could hear, "You know, Winchester, you're not such a bad dancer after all" Dean felt a rush of heat at her words. Her closeness was intoxicating, and the huskiness in her voice made his heart race.

He tried to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but her compliment sent a thrill through him. "Gee, thanks" he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes for effect, but his tone lacked his customary edge. He held her closer, his hands tightening on her hips as they continued to move to the music.

"You’re not half bad yourself, considering you’re drunk off your ass" he added, a small smirk playing on his lips. Y/N chuckled at his response, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. "You love it when I'm drunk, admit it" she teased, her breath warm against his neck.

She pressed herself closer to him, her body molding against his as they danced. The alcohol in her system was making her clingy, her inhibitions lowered.

Dean was taken back by this, reminding himself that she’s just drunk and that’s why she’s acting like this. He cleared his throat before pulling away slightly to look at his watch, “It’s almost 12, we’ve gotta go” He said urgently.

Y/N's face fell at his words, a pout forming on her lips. "What? Why?" she whined, her hands still gripping onto Dean tightly.

The alcohol was making her stubborn and unwilling to part with him, the magic of the moment shattered by the harsh reality of time.

"Can’t we stay for a little longer?" she pleaded, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “This isn’t Cinderella” She groaned. “I’m sorry sweetheart. We promised our dads we’d be back home before 11. Let’s get Sammy and beat it” Dean denied.

Y/N's pout intensified at his refusal, but she knew he was right. They had made a promise to their dads, and breaking it would spell trouble.

"Okay, okay" she grumbled, her disappointment evident. She reluctantly untangled herself from him, her body immediately missing the warmth of his touch.

"But I'm calling shot gun on the way home" she declared firmly, her stubborn streak not completely squashed.

“Can we stop and get burgers? I’m craving a milkshake” She asked hopefully as Dean pulled her through the dancefloor to interrupt Sam in the middle of his make out session with Cindy Wu.

Dean nodded in agreement, his own stomach rumbling at the thought of greasy burgers and a thick milkshake. "Yeah, we can stop by that diner we like" he assured her, gently pulling her past the couples dancing around them.

When they reached Sam and Cindy, both of them were too engrossed in their own world to notice their presence. Dean cleared his throat loudly, finally getting their attention.

Sam jumped, clearly startled out of their moment. He quickly ran a hand through his messy hair in an attempt to smooth it out, a sheepish look on his face. His gaze darted from Y/N to Dean, anticipating their remarks.

Y/N giggled at the way Sam’s hair was disheveled and his lips were swollen. Dean smirked, unable to resist teasing his younger brother. "Looks like someone was having quite the dance party over here" he said, his tone filled with barely suppressed amusement.

Y/N added to the teasing, a wicked grin on her face. "I didn't know prom was a make out contest" she teased, poking fun at Sam's disheveled appearance. The drunken side of her mind was jealous because that should’ve been her and Dean.

But the logical side screamed at her for being an idiot and embarrassing herself, ‘He’s not into you, L/N. Stop being so desperate’ Her mind yelled at her.

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool despite being caught red handed. "Okay, okay, you’ve had your laughs" he muttered, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

Cindy, feeling left out of the conversation, spoke up, "Are you guys leaving already?"

“Yeah, Cinderella here is scared his car turns into a pumpkin at 12” Y/N scoffed, smacking Dean in his arm. Dean huffed indignantly at Y/N's jibe. "Hey, watch it" he warned, rubbing his arm where she had hit him. He shot her a scowl, but there was no heat behind it.

"We promised our dads we'd be back before 11" he reminded Y/N, his tone turning serious again. "We gotta keep our word." Y/N rolled her eyes, “But they’re not here!” She protested.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Doesn’t matter if they’re here or not" he retorted. "We made a promise, and we’re keeping it." He was growing increasingly annoyed by her stubbornness, even as endearing as he found it.

“Fine, let’s go. I’m sorry, Cindy” Sam turned to Cindy with a sad smile. Cindy smiled at Sam, a little disappointed that the night was coming to an end. "It's okay, Sam. I understand" she replied, although she clearly would've preferred otherwise.

Dean led Y/N and Sam towards the exit of the gym, his body tense with irritation from the situation. Dean buckled Sam and Y/N into the backseat, both teenagers giggly from the effects of the spiked punch.

Dean shook his head at the pair as he got into the driver's seat. They were a mess, their giggles and hiccups only adding to his growing headache. He knew it was going to be a long ride back.

"You two are impossible" he muttered to himself, adjusting the rearview mirror to glance at Y/N and Sam in the backseat. “Shut up and put on some music!” Y/N hollered enthusiastically as Sam cheered.

Dean rolled his eyes again, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Their carefree attitude was infectious, even in his grumpy state. They were like rowdy teenagers who hadn't grown up.

He turned on the radio, the sound of Bon Jovi's ‘Livin' on a Prayer’ filled the car. “Oh my god I love this song!” Y/N screamed as she and Sam sang along.

Dean groaned inwardly, but he couldn't stay annoyed for long. The two in the backseat were infectious, and their energy was slowly thawing his grumpiness.

"You both are so damn loud" he complained half-heartedly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a barely suppressed smile. “We’ll give it a shot!! Woaahhhh, we’re half way thereeee. WOAHHHHH LIVING IN A PRAYER!!” Sam and Y/N screamed the lyrics at the top of their lungs spitefully.

Dean chuckled against his will, the sound of their out-of-tune singing was oddly endearing. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, he found himself singing along under his breath, the words becoming a little more audible over time.

He shot a glance at Y/N in the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face at their antics. They were loud, obnoxious, and totally incapable of keeping to themselves, but he was strangely fond of them all the same.

Halfway through the song, a stir in Y/N’s stomach began erupting, holding her mouth. “God I think I’m gonna be sick” She groaned. Deans eyes snapped to her in the backseat. “If you barf on my upholstery I will toss your ass out” Dean warned her.

Y/N's face grew pale, a wave of nausea crashing into her. The earlier carefree joy now replaced by a queasy unease. Feeling the contents of her stomach churn, she clutched at her belly, her eyes growing wide.

"Oh crap, I think I need to throw up" she whimpered, her voice weak and raspy. The thought of throwing up in Dean's precious car was enough to add to her growing anxiety.

“Pull over dude!” Sam yelled at his older brother. Dean acted quickly, pulling the car off the road swiftly. As soon as the car was at a complete stop, Y/N threw open the car door and stumbled out, her body hunching over as she vomited beside the road, into the drainage.

Sam grimaced at the sound of her retching, his own nausea kicking in. Dean, on the other hand, got out and began patting her back. Holding her hair up for her as she let the remnants of the vodka out of her stomach.

Sam grimaced before stumbling out behind them, barfing up his own stomach contents next to Y/N. The sight of Sam's projectile vomiting was the icing on the cake for Dean, he couldn't contain his reaction as he doubled over in laughter.

"Oh, you two are unbelievable" he managed to say in-between chuckles. He leaned against the car, shaking his head at the absolute state the two were in. “Can it and hold my hair!” Y/N whined.

Dean bit back his laughter and nodded, moving to stand behind Y/N again. He gingerly gathered her hair in one hand, holding it away from her face as she continued to heave.

Stood between both Sam and Y/N, he rubbed his little brothers back soothingly as he let out more wretched vomits. "I'll hold your hair, but I'm not shutting up" he said, his tone teasing. "This is what you get for gulping down spiked punch like it's water."

-

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N's stomach seemed to have expelled all the alcohol. She leaned against the car, her face pale and clammy, looking thoroughly wrecked.

Sam wasn’t fairing much better. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against the tire, his head lolling to the side.

Dean was still standing near Y/N, his hand still holding her hair, his other rubbing her back soothingly.

Y/N got up after emptying her stomach, wiping her mouth as she sat next to Sam on the gravelly road, her dress dampening. Dean reached into his glove compartment, pulling out a pack of cigarettes he had in case y/n ever ran out and a spare lighter.

He took one out, sticking it between his lips, lighting it. Inhaling a plume of smoke before handing Y/N the stick which she accepted graciously.

As Y/N took the cigarette from Dean, her fingers brushed against his. The contact sent a jolt through her, reminding her of the night's earlier flirty behaviour. But her current state of nausea quickly squashed any such thoughts.

She took a long, deep drag on the cigarette, hoping the nicotine would settle her churning stomach and quell the pounding in her head. “You’re a lifesaver” She muttered gratefully, leaning her head back onto Sam's shoulder.

Dean smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners amused. “Don’t get used to it” he joked as he made his way around the car to the trunk, opening it and pulling out a bag he had with toiletries. Finding out the mouthwash after unzipping the little clear baggie.

“I am never drinking again” Y/N groaned, her head dropping on Sam’s shoulder. Dean chuckled at her claim, knowing full well that the both of them would be drinking again come next weekend. "Yeah, that's what you said last time" he teased, walking over to them with the bottle of mouthwash in his hand.

Sam, who was slowly coming to his senses, echoed Y/N's sentiment, his eyes closed in discomfort. "Agreed, I'm never touching alcohol again" Sam groaned, his voice hoarse.

Y/N snatched the bottle of mouthwash from Dean, gathering some into her mouth before handing it to Sam who accepted the bottle, taking a large swig of the liquid and swishing it around his mouth before spitting it out onto the road along with Y/N simultaneously.

The burning sensation of the alcohol made their eyes water.

Dean watched this with amusement, shaking his head. "You both really are a sight for sore eyes," he joked, leaning against the car. "A couple of prom royals, reduced to puking in the drain next to my car."

He couldn't help but find the humor in their situation, even if they were both miserable messes at that moment. Y/N rolled her eyes, outstretching her hand for Dean to help her up.

Dean chuckled at her eye-roll, but he complied none the less. He reached out and grasped her hand, gently pulling her to her feet, taking one last drag from her cigarette before she flicked the burnt out bud to the side, in the drainage.

He then moved to help Sam up, who was still looking a little green around the gills. With both of them on their feet, Dean couldn't help but grimace at how disheveled they both looked.

“We still getting those burgers?” She asked hopefully as they helped Sam up. Dean shook his head at her one-tracked stomach. Despite their current mess, she still had food on the brain. "Yeah, we're still getting the burgers" he confirmed, guiding both Sam and Y/N back to the Impala.

"But you're both washing up in that gas station over there first" he added, pointing towards a small gas station a few feet away. Sam and Y/N looked down at their mess of outfits, then at each other before shrugging.

He had a point. They looked like crap.

____________________________________________

The diner was fairly empty given the late hour, which suited them just fine. Dean led Y/N and Sam to a booth at the back, sitting opposite them as they settled in.

The waitress approached their table, a tired smile on her face as she handed out menus. She took their orders, making a few notes before heading towards the kitchen.

Sam and Y/N looked absolutely terrible. Y/N’s hair was sticking up in all directions, the once perfect curls now tousled and knotted. Her lipstick was smudged, eyeliner and mascara stained her cheeks, and her prom dress was stained from the previous events. She looked like a zombie prom queen without the crown.

Sam was in a similar state, his usually neat hair sticking up in messy peaks, and his shirt rumpled from his stint with the ground. His tie was hung around his neck, the bow limp and loose. Remnants of Cindy Wu’s lipstick smeered on his neck and his shirt collar.

-

They both practically inhaled their food, their appetites returning with a vengeance. It seemed puking up the spiked punch had reignited their hunger.

Dean watched them with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Even though they looked a mess, they still managed to wolf down their burgers with gusto.

“Jesus Christ, I could make love to this burger” Y/N moaned, dipping some fries into ketchup before biting into it, her eyes fluttering close with pleasure.

Dean almost sputtered on his drink, his eyes widening at her comment. He wasn’t expecting her to say that, and the image her words conjured up sent his mind reeling.

“Jesus, L/N” he muttered, trying to play it off as he busied himself with his own food. Though he couldn’t deny the way his stomach churned at her words, a certain heat pooling in his stomach.

“Damn straight, and this milkshake” Sam agreed, sipping his milkshake. His expression mimicked Y/N’s reaction to her food.

Dean snorted at their enthusiasm, shaking his head at the duo. They were acting as if they hadn’t eaten in days instead of a few hours ago.

“Slow down, you’re going to give yourselves stomach aches” he warned, though there was no conviction in his tone. He couldn’t help but find their gluttony endearing.

“Shut up” Sam and Y/N snapped in unison before going back to their food.

Dean raised his hands in surrender, deciding not to make any further objections. It was clear that when it came to food, there was no stopping them.

He continued to eat his own meal, watching as they ate with relish. Their disheveled state and messy faces made the scene even more amusing.

“So, how was Cindy’s tongue down your throat?” Y/N teased her best friend, nudging his side with her elbow. Sam choked on his milkshake, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his time with Cindy. He swallowed, clearing his throat before shooting an embarrassed glance at Y/N. He had nearly forgotten about that in his food-induced bliss.

“Uh, it was... nice” he mumbled, trying to play it cool. Though the evidence from Cindy's lipstick on his collar said otherwise. Dean and Y/N bursted out laughing.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, the sight of Sam, trying to act nonchalant, while his collar was smeared with lipstick was just too comical.

Y/N joined in with a fit of giggles, her own food momentarily forgotten. She leaned back in the booth, wiping a tear from her eye as she snorted with laughter.

“Despite the vomiting and the hangover I am dreading in the morning. I had fun tonight fellas” Dean smiled at her words, glad that she could find the silver lining despite the night’s events. “Yeah, me too,” he replied, taking a swig of his soda. “Even though I had to deal with two puking teenagers in my car” he added, shooting a teasing glance at Y/N and Sam.

“And don’t even get me started on the gas station bathroom” he continued, exaggerating his complaints in jest. “I swear it’s like the two of you tried to throw up everywhere but in the goddamn toilet”

This earned Dean a fry tossed at his head by Y/N.

Dean dodged the flying fry, narrowly avoiding it striking him in the forehead. He laughed even louder at the failed attempt, throwing his head back at Y/N's antics.

“Now you’ve done it” he warned in a mock-threatening tone. He reached for a fry from his plate, aiming it at Y/N and flicking it towards her. Y/N quickly swatted it away with her hand, only for it to hit Sam in his head.

Sam grunted in surprise, a piece of the fry landing in his hair. He looked up at Y/N with faux outrage, his eyes narrowing jokingly.

“Seriously?” He asked, plucking the fry from his head. He then lobbed it back at her, a laugh escaping his lips. Y/N laughed loudly as Sam just shrugged and ate the fry.

Dean watched the exchange with amusement, his own food long forgotten. Sam and Y/N were like siblings, constantly teasing and taunting one another without malice. It was refreshing to see them being carefree teenagers for a change.

He couldn’t help but smile at their infectious laughter, the sound bouncing off the diner walls.

👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓

Authors Note: Hi again, I hope everyone liked this one. I’ve had this tucked away for too long, I’m just so happy to let it be seen now.

Tell you what you think! Comments, reblogs and opinions are greatly appreciated❤️

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia

Thanks again,

Xoxo

[buckyalpine]

Spicy Brownies

18+ 

High Bucky x reader 

Remember Spicy Plants ? Here’s spicy brownies. Welcome to another crack fic. 

Imagine the first time Bucky tries edibles. He knew they would hit differently than smoking but he didn’t think much would happen so he had another. Then another. He was a super solider so he’d be fine. So he had one more. 

He was fine.

He was totally and completely fine. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N Y/N Y/N!!”

“Oh my GOD!”

You and Steve sat in the living room, giving each other panicked looks hearing Bucky yelling from your shared bedroom. You both sprinted to the elevator and ran down the hall, bursting through the door, unsure of what was going on. 

“What is it Buck- oh my god” 

“What the hell...” Steve blinked, slowly backing away while you cocked your head to the side, observing a very naked Bucky looking at the mirror. 

“He nakeyyyy” Bucky whispered, staring at himself in the mirror wide eyed, cupping his own cheeks in utter shock. “Y/n, there's a naked man in our room” 

“uh huh” You snorted, carefully walking over to him while he looked back at the mirror again, nearly yelping. 

“HE NAKEY” This time he grabbed your face instead, staring into your soul, hoping you understood the utter severity of the situation. 

“Yes bub, it would appear so” You tried to bite back a laugh while he looked around the room, dragging you towards the door. 

“Hide” He tugged your wrist, ready to run out of the room. 

“Jesus Buck” Steve ran a hand over his face, before grabbing him so he wouldn’t end up sauntering around the living room in his birthday suit. “Oh fuck” Steve shoved Bucky back into the room when he heard the elevator ding, but it had already opened before he could wrestle his friend back into some shorts. 

“What’s going on” Tony came through the elevator doors with Sam and Peter in tow, worried about the commotion they’d heard from down in the lab. “We heard screaming-OH” The three of them paused, seeing Bucky staring back at them with a dazed look on his face. 

“Good God” Steve managed to drag Bucky inside while he shrieked.

“HE’S GONNA EAT ME” Bucky clung onto the edge of the doorway, while you were in tears in the corridor, absolutely no help at all while Steve managed to stick Bucky back into his briefs. 

“Can one of you explain why terminator has his gun and bullets out?” Tony had an amused look on his face while you wheezed, hearing further commotion from inside your room. 

“Bucky put down the soap”

“STEVE THERE’S RAINBOWS IN THE BUBBLES LOOK”

“Bucky put down y/n’s blanket”

“But it smells soooo gooooood”

“Bucky, put down y/n’s bag”

“OH MORE SPICY BROWNIES!”

“BUCKY NO”

“BUCKY YES”

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES”

“I think he had the brownies I got from the market. One of those brownies. Looks like he had more than one” 

Bucky wasn’t willing to wear anything else other than his briefs, his body running warmer than usual and the effects of his spicy snack lasting longer than anticipated. You sat with him in the living room, unable to take your eyes off your adorable goofball of a boyfriend. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the large golden lab Nat had been babysitting, the large dog brushing by his leg as he happily went around for pets. 

“Peter” Bucky grabbed Peter’s face, the hairs on his neck standing up when he felt a paw pat him. “The horse is here” 

Peter nearly choked on his water, watching Bucky pet the pup’s head, not making eye contact with him, while still looking off into the distance. 

“Mr. Barnes, you watch family guy?” 

Buck had already moved on, getting up and making his way over to the kitchen, ripping open a box of pop tarts, stuffing one in his mouth. 

“I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts” Bucky hummed to himself, swinging his hips side to side, snickering as he felt his coconuts sway side to side with him. 

“Is he...is he talking about his...” 

“For the love of God, don’t ask” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl​    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @perdidosbucky-yyo  @clqrosmgc

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Marina; Tucker is having a normal one. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

So yeah, definitely coffee, Tucker decides. Sam'll catch up, again. Which–also again, right now they're probably the ones who need to catch up to her, considering. Her and the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, specifically. Tucker always misses the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick when it’s not on deck, but he seriously misses it when it’s not on deck in situations like these. 

“So yeah, fyi, while we’re doing the running thing we gotta find my backup, she’s somewhere in the hall out there being a badass,” Tucker informs his hopeful weekend plans, pointing towards the door. “And possibly also our other friend, who she and I were looking for when we found you. So like, it’s very interesting, actually, that they were keeping you where they would’ve kept him, all things considered.” 

Very interesting. And probably concerning? Like, considering? 

. . . also possibly hot, though, Tucker realizes. Like, he’s very into situations like Sam going full anti-creep stick on the GIW and Jazz yelling down murderous ghosts and literally everything Val has ever done in her entire life, so if he’s more bisexual than previously assumed and this dude is, like, some kind of terrifying badass ecto-experiment with weird ghost powers or whatever, statistically speaking, Tucker is probably gonna be into that. And like, given the batshit sedative doses Tucker pulled and how quick the guy woke up and also the whole, like, literal flying thing, “weird ghost powers” seems pretty likely at this point. 

Well, forewarned is forearmed, he guesses. At least if Allegedly-Alive Amor is secretly some kind of dangerous anti-ghost weapon, Tucker’s gonna get to enjoy the experience of watching him get beat down by Danny. Like, as soon as they find Danny, he means. And also–

. . . actually, is it weirder that Tucker kinda wants to see this guy get a little messed up, now that he’s thinking about it? Like just in a minimally violent but definitively rumpled kind of way, maybe, or like, maybe kinda flushed and sweaty and out of breath and–

They should find Ecto-Babe some pants, Tucker decides privately, patting the guy’s chest in an attempt to distract himself and doing the actual exact literal opposite of distracting himself. 

Yeah, pants would be a good idea right now. 

Pants, fortunately–unfortunately, Tucker means–do not actually happen, because what actually happens is the guy takes off and zips out into the hall with Tucker all bridal style/princess carry in his wet, naked arms, and Tucker really needs to have a moment about that but definitely does not have the time to. Another reason to rip the security footage later, though, he figures as he types furiously at his PDA, making sure all his programs are still running in the GIW’s systems and showing the agents all the fake ghosts a Fenton could shake an anti-creep stick at. 

Probably he doesn’t actually need to check that, though, since they don’t make it through thirty yards of this surprisingly comfy high-speed flying experience before they’re coasting quick and easy over the heads of a hallway full of yelling and screaming agents who’re shooting each other more than any of the ghosts said agents think they’re seeing. 

That’s really unfortunate for them, gee. Tucker will have to send ‘em a “get well never, you xenophobic assholes” card. Maybe a fruit basket. One with nothing but cantaloupe in it, because the GIW deserves nothing but cantaloupe. Old cantaloupe, even. Like just old enough they’ll feel like they have to eat it before it spoils outright, but also the texture’ll be weird and–

“Uh, should we be worried about all that back there?” New Ecto-Boo asks, looking skeptically back at the GIW agents they’ve already passed–and also looking really fucking hot, still.