all they want to do now is survive and sam barely wants that

Flowers for my sister

A/N: So when I was in Jr/Sr high they had fundraisers where for a dollar someone could buy you a rose & have it sent to on Valentine’s day. Throughout the day people would go into the classroom & pass out the flowers. They had notes on it with who it was from & whatever message they wanted. So I’m sitting here going “what fic should I write for Valentine’s day & this popped into my head.” Reader is Dean’s twin. The ending is kinda rushed but that’s because it’s bedtime but I wanted to post this on actual Valentine’s Day. Enjoy my loves.

Dean x Sister!Reader    Sam x Sister!Reader

Originally posted by queerevens

Originally posted by wincester-oops

You nearly collapsed as you set your lunch tray down at the same table that Dean was already sitting at. Dean quirked an eyebrow at you, “What’s up with you?” He questioned. You ignored him by pretending to be very interested in the disgusting lunch that was in front of you. “Aye,” Dean said while kicking your leg under the table.

“What?” You hissed at him.

“What’s going on? Why are you all, moody?” He asked.

“Nothing. Just drop it, okay?” You replied before taking a bite out of the lunch the school provided for you.

“It’s not nothing if you’re acting like a-” Dean began but was interrupted by Sam rushing over to the table.

“Y/N are you okay?” Sam asked, out of breath from running, “I heard what happened and ran ove-”

“I’m fine Sam. Just drop it. Both of you. Okay?” You told them.

“Sam. Spill. Now.” Dean demanded.

“Sam, you open your mouth and you’re gonna regret it.” You replied.

Sam looked between you and Dean; you were both his older siblings, both of you were his heroes, normally he did what you asked, but this time he couldn’t.

“It’s Valentine’s day right? So these guys-” Sam started.

“Seriously Sam. Drop. It.” You hissed at him.

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My Best Friend’s Brother

Summary: You’re not prepared when your best friend and roommate’s handsome as hell brother shows up on your doorstep, and you quickly realise the attraction isn’t one sided.

Words: 3.4k

Sam x Reader

Warnings: AU (no hunting), smut, reader gender unspecified

A/N: this was written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s Tropes Challenge - my trope was Best Friend’s Brother

“Uh, Dean?” you called over your shoulder into the apartment you shared with your best friend, never taking your eyes off of the man at the door.

He couldn’t be Dean’s little brother. Dean’s little brother was all limbs, a lanky, gangly kid; he had puppy-dog eyes and hand-me-down band tees.

The person in front of you, though… this tall, strong, gorgeous man, couldn’t be Sammy.

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Got It Bad

Characters/pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5150 (god I’m sorry, I just really like words)

Contains: Fluff, smut, angst, language

A/N: I wrote this for @melbelle45‘s Dirty Pop Challenge. My song prompt was U Got it Bad by Usher. I used some lines and ideas from the song and I went for the hardcore pining, hope you feel it. Assume the reader is familiar of the hunting life, and it’s sometime after S8. All my love to @impala-dreamer for her encouragement and time when I struggled with this one.

Feedback and constructive criticism are both welcomed and encouraged. xoxo

Originally posted by zest-wincest



The email sat in your inbox for a month before you noticed it; buried in the spam from mailing lists and unsolicited porn. Then, it sat there for another week before you could decide what to do with it - delete it, ignore it, reply. You had a decent enough reason for each option. Your stomach did flips every time you held the cursor over the email. You’d been ready to flip your life upside down and take the leap, but then he was gone, before you had a chance to be anything.

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The Happy Couple

Originally posted by canonspngifs

Request: You have no idea how happy I am you have requests open! I love your writing so much. Could I request one where dean and the reader have been dating awhile but recently they were arguing a lot more but then on a case they have to dress up and act like a happy couple and it makes dean remember everything he loves about the reader?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,600ish

Warnings: none

A/N: The angst is strong with this one…


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Two Rooms

Title: Two Rooms – Warmth Series Part Four

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader, Sam (mentioned)

Word Count: 2030

Warnings: Some kissing, implied future smut.

Summary: It’s the final part in the series, I don’t want to spoil anything!

Author’s Note: Wow, the final part! I can’t thank you guys enough for all the sweet things you’ve said about this series, I had a great time writing it, and I hope the final part is everything you were hoping it would be! And I’m sorry if the ending feels a little rushed, I was pressed for time this weekend. Enjoy, guys :)

Read the Previous Parts: Two Beds | Two Shirts | Two Keys

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*

     After eating another pathetic excuse for dinner with the boys and deciding where you were headed next - deeming it a pointless trip to have come so far and only do one hunt in the area - you gathered your things, the second motel key off the table, and limped out of the room to go find your own. Which was, as it turns out, even smaller and more frigid than the last one.

     The cold air hit you like a brick as you stumbled out of the motel room, using the wall for support and dragging your duffle bag behind you through the freshly fallen snow. Dean had, of course, tried to help you with your bag and get you safely to your new room, but you’d turned down his offer and opted to do it yourself, your newly stitched leg screaming in protest with every clumsy step. When you got to your lonely little room you collapsed on the bed with a groan.

     Ever since you had started hunting with the boys you’d always gotten your own room, every time without fail, and it never fazed you in the least. You enjoyed the quiet, gratefully took the seldom found privacy, and couldn’t imagine a worse fate than having to share an already cramped and more often than not dirty motel bathroom with two men. You were happy with the arrangement – or, as happy as a hunter could be when bouncing around from one dive to the next. But now? You just felt lonely.

     The room was too quiet. You found, to your surprise, that you didn’t mind giving up some of that privacy if you were giving it in favor of being near Dean. Even sharing the amenities was something easily avoidable if you managed to wake up before the Winchesters. You liked sharing a room with them – you liked sharing a room with Dean.

     And you missed him.

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Request: Quiet

Request: Could you write one with dean x reader and he gets the reader pregnant but she’s not quite 18 yet?

Word Count: 1,504

I suppose teenage pregnancy is a warning? If it’s going to bother you, maybe steer clear. Much love<3

You were just a week past your tenth birthday when you killed your first vampire. You’ll never forget the moment as long as you live – you weren’t supposed to follow your parents into the woods, nor were you supposed to have a weapon on you. But curiosity got the best of you, and you ended up traipsing through the undergrowth with all the stealth of an elephant.

It popped out on you – before you even had time to scream, you’d been tackled to the ground, and yet you still managed to keep hold of your knife. It was the only thing you knew – like an iron grip on its handle could keep you tethered to the Earth, protected from the razor-like fangs scraping at your throat. Your blood was nothing but adrenaline, and your thoughts were more like impulses – next thing you knew, the vampire was slumped on top of you and your father was dragging you to your feet, yelling but grinning with pride.

It’s not the moment that has imprinted on your memory so much as the fear – since that day, you vowed never to be so afraid again. Not when your parents died, not when you just barely slipped beyond the threshold of life and death, not even when Lucifer himself was stood over you. Nothing has managed to surpass that moment – until now.

“Y/N? Everything alright in there?” Dean’s voice comes from outside the pokey little bathroom, of which you’re perched on the edge of the bath that’s more like an enlarged sink.

“Fine! Just washing my face, give me a minute.” You reply, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice as you force yourself to stand on shaking legs, and shove the tiny white stick into your pocket, well-hidden from the eyes of either bother, however observant.

Dean seems to be appeased by that, much to your relief, and after a moment you hear his footsteps creaking back across the rickety floorboards. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and cling to the sink for balance, as you look at your grey-tinted face in the mirror, red-rimmed eyes laden with dark circles. You known something was up, and this was a last-ditch attempt to avoid calling for an angel.

Pregnant. It hadn’t been planned – that’s for sure. You and Dean… not a mistake. That’s not what it was, what it is. But he’s older, and you’re not even eighteen yet – despite having the maturity of an adult, thanks to the life you had growing up – and you just know that he’s going to completely freak when he finds out. If. When.

For the first time in a long time, you’re genuinely fearful of what the future holds.

***

It’s quiet in the motel room, the silence broken only by the breathing of the two brothers, slept in the beds beside you – you’d crept out of Dean’s hold just a few minutes ago, a short enough amount of time that the air is still chilled on your skin, despite the hoodie you’ve huddled yourself into.

This is the easiest, and the most painless – what Dean doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him. What the rest of the world doesn’t know won’t hurt him. You’ve survived on your own before, and you can do it again, as much as the thought tears your heart in two.

You carefully tuck your jeans into the bag, your hand ghosting over the lump of plastic in the pocket: the one that sealed your fate; that made this decision for you. After a moment of hesitation, you zip the bag up, and pull it onto your shoulder – only for Dean to shift and groan, prising one eye open and looking up at you in the darkness.

“Y/N?” He rasps, frowning – his eyes catch the reflection of the sodium orange glow outside and meet yours. You flinch, unable to hold his gaze.

“Go back to sleep, Dean. Nothing to worry about.” You try to reassure him – if you can get him to go back to sleep before he wakes fully and realises what’s going on, you still stand a chance of getting out of here without any problems.

He obviously thinks about it, then sits up a little more, “Is that your bag?”

“I was just-“

“Y/N, are you leaving?” He hisses, sparing a glance to his brother, who sleeps as soundly as ever, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You hiss, “Sleep, Dean, really.”

“You can’t lie to a liar, Y/N.” He’s up and out of the bed before you can think twice, looking you over – from your hoodie to your shoes, to the absence of everything you own from where it had been discarded around the room, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You try being authoritative, but he isn’t buying it, “I just needed some air.”

“With all your stuff?”

“Yes.” You don’t see any other way out of this, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Alright then, we’ll go together.” He says, reaching out and taking your hand in his. After a few moments, you have to concede and admit defeat, giving a small nod and following him into the cold night air. It raises goosebumps on your skin, but you don’t let it show, remaining by Dean’s side for a few moments.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks softly after a few moments, watching you closely, “You’ve barely spoken to me or Sam in a couple of days, you wouldn’t go out with us last night, and you’re acting like hunting is the last thing in the world you want to do.”

“It is.”

“Is it some kind of… identity crisis? You don’t want to hunt anymore? You’re young, Y/N, you can get out, there’s still time.” Immediately, he begins mentally running through possibilities, ways to keep you safe once you’re gone, “You know we’re with you, whatever you-“

“It’s not that.” You interrupt, rubbing your hands over your face impatiently, “It’s going to be you wanting rid of me soon, anyway. Stop acting like the saint in all of this.”

“You know I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You can tell he’s starting to get frustrated and anxious – you don’t blame him. You just wish you’d been able to get away before he’d managed to question it.

“You don’t need an idea. You just need to let me go.” You inform him, forcing yourself to turn and meet his eyes, “I’m fine, Dean. I will be. You just need to let me leave.”

“Not until I know what’s going on with you.”

“It’s none of your business.” Yes it is, yes it is, yes it is.

“I don’t care.” He reaches out, taking your hand in both of his, “Listen to me, Y/N. These last few months… they’ve been great. You’re great. And I know it’s less than conventional, but what is?”

“Stop talking.”

“Why?! You’re acting like something horrible is about to happen!” He insists, squeezing your hand, “Y/N, please, I’m begging you here. Stop freaking me out – whatever is it, we’ll muddle through together, just like always.”

“I’m pregnant.” No point sugarcoating it – might as well let him push you away and be done with it now. He pauses, frozen by your confession for a few moments.

“Don’t joke.”

“I’m not.” You deadpan, pulling your hand away from his and folding your arms over your chest, “See? I told you, you wouldn’t like it.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head, “Y/N… you… you didn’t tell me. This is my business, for crying out loud. I’ve ruined your life.”

“Here you go again! Ever the martyr! It’s nothing to do with you if I say it is.” You snap, “Look, you haven’t ruined anything that wasn’t ruined anyway.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Why? You did.” You step back from him, “Look, Dean, if you have an issue, I’ll go. I’ll stay with Bobby until I can figure out something safe, and then… I don’t know. But I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growls, stepping closer, “You’re my problem, Y/N. You’re my business. I want you to be my business.” He reaches out, offering his hands to you, “Listen. Really listen. I get that this isn’t… normal. By any standard. And if you want to go, I’m not going to stop you.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave you, or Sam.” You confess, the fear returning in a great wave, “I’m scared, Dean. It’s new and scary and big and I don’t want to do it on my own.”

“You don’t have to. You never have to.” He promises, watching as you place your hands in his so be can pull you closer and press an affectionate kiss to your brow, “We’ve been in this together. Right from day one, and until you say otherwise, alright? As much as it terrifies me, I love you, and this baby… it’s just another hurdle. A hurdle we can pass, because we’re together.”

Part two maybe?

AA!SteveTony - the one where the married dorks get on to becoming married dorks. Continued from this fic.
For @ishipallthings <33

Word Count: ~1500
Warnings: None, only fluff

Steve opened his eyes with a start in the room he claimed as his in the SHIELD facility that the Avengers were temporarily calling home. The room was little more than a barracks; it should have been familiar, but nothing had felt familiar in a while.  

Brows drawn in concentration, Steve focused on where he knew the speakers were located.  

“Tony?” he rasped up at the ceiling, staring blindly into the dark. When there was no answer, he murmured wryly, “I’m losing sleep because of you.”

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Project Paperclip

I have watched Winter Soldier three times this week, and I was watching this scene when the idea of this fic occured to me. Of course, maybe the idea behind it is wrong. It is based on my own theory.

If you have any feedback, please let me know! I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS-IMPLICATION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

TIMELINE-2014

~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~

You pulled up to Steve’s old military camp in silence. Nat was baffled, you knew, by the possibility that such an advanced program, which had bested even her, had originated from such an unlikely place. Steve was wading through his memories of the camp, of a time before Captain America. A time when life was simple.

You were worried. There had to be a reason you were led here, and it couldn’t be good. You were overcome by this feeling that as bad as things were now, they were going to get much worse. You stayed silent, choosing not to worry the others more than necessary, and followed closely behind Steve, hand hovering above your gun, anxiously waiting for someone to jump out at you.

Nat wandered for a bit, searching out any signals that would assist in finding the source of the data that had nearly cost Fury his life. She called out that there was absolutely nothing. No heat signatures, no waves. She began to theorise about what could have happened. You didn’t understand much of what she said.

But Steve seemed to have noticed something, and strode towards a cold, angular, concrete building.

“Steve?” You asked, still following behind him.

“Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards from the barracks,” Steve began. “This building is in the wrong place.” With absolutely no effort, he used the rim of his shield to smash the padlock off of the door, and the three of you ventured inside.

Your mouth dropped open. There was a SHIELD insignia upon the wall, and office furniture, long forgotten, littered the dusty room.

“This is SHIELD,” Nat uttered.

“Maybe where it started,” Steve replied.

Entering a smaller room to the side, your eyes were drawn to three photographs that hung in broken frames on the wall. Howard, Peggy and Colonel Phillips smiled down at you.

“There’s Stark’s father,” Nat pointed out.

“Howard,” you elaborated with a fond smile.

“Who’s the girl?” Nat asked. Your eyes moved from Peggy’s beautiful face to Steve. His jaw clenched slightly, and instead of replying, he turned to investigate the room.

“Agent Peggy Carter,” you said gently. Nat nodded her understanding, but before she could say anything else, you heard Steve’s voice.

“If you’re already working in a secret office…” he said, pushing aside a heavy looking bookshelf, “why do you need to hide the elevator?”

The two of you walked to where Steve was standing and studied the elevator. The doors were quite old, and there was a keypad next to them. Nat pulled her device out of her pocket again, and held it up the keypad. It determined the passcode, and she pressed the numbers in sequence. The doors slid open. You glanced nervously at Steve, took a deep breath, and stepped into the elevator. It didn’t lurch, or give any indication of collapsing, so you relaxed, and the others got on with you. There was only one button. You pressed it.

When the doors opened again, you were staring into a dark space. It was cold, and seemed to be quite large. Stepping out of the elevator, the lights turned on. There must have been some sort of movement sensor.

At the opposite end of the room sat several large computer monitors, and behind that, an endless sea of databanks. You looked to Natasha, and saw her shaking her head.

“This can’t be the data-point, this technology is ancient…” she confirmed your thoughts, but as she moved closer, she noticed a USB port. Even you could tell how out of place it seemed. She placed the USB into the port, and then there was a cacophany of whirring, as the databanks began to roll, and the old computer flashed to life.

The words Initiate System? blinked on the screen. You and Steve were both well and truly out of your depth, so you deferred to Nat. This was one of her specialties after all.

“Y-E-S, spells yes,” Nat smiled as she typed. You could tell despite everything, she was genuinely enjoying having a puzzle to solve. Her level of intelligence was unrivaled by most. “Shall we play a game?” Nat laughed as she waited for the computer to process her input. “It’s from a movie that…”

“Yeah, we saw it,” Steve remarked dryly.

Before that conversation could progress any further, a familiar voice rang out, reverberating around the cavernous room. You recognised it immediately. It was just one of the voices that haunted you in your nightmares.

Rogers, Steven. Born, 1918. Barnes, (Y/N). Formerly (Y/L/N), (Y/N). Born, 1918. Married, 1939. Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born, 1984.

“It’s some kind of a recording,” Nat breathed, impressed by the technology, as a small camera focused on each of you, one at a time.

I am not a recording, Fräulein. I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am. The screen flashed an image, and your fear was confirmed. You were being addressed by Dr. Arnim Zola. The man who stole your husband from you. Your fists balled at your sides.

“Do you know this thing?” Nat asked, looking between the two of you. This time it was your turn to offer no answer, as you continued to stare at the face on the screen, now not a photograph but a digital face. The camera seemed to pause on you and observe you longer than the others. You hated that you couldn’t feel him. He was there, but he was just a machine. He had no emotions.

“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years,” Steve explained for Nat’s sake. He was confused, but you barely noticed.

First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972 I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.

“How did you get here?” Steve asked angrily.

Invited.

You began to feel sick.

“It was Operation Paperclip after World War II,” Nat elaborated. “SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic values.”

Sick.

Zola continued. They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own.

The camera observed as you swayed, light headed.

“HYDRA died with the Red Skull,” Steve spoke with conviction.

Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.

“Prove it.”

Accessing archive.

A flurry of images appeared on the screen. Zola told his story. But you couldn’t concentrate. It felt like you were underwater. Everything was fuzzy, voices were far away, and you couldn’t breathe.

Zola was the only member of Hydra that had been captured by the American military that didn’t immediately pop a cyanide capsule. He had entered custody without a fuss, and from what you had been told, he was mostly cooperative.

The intel about him being on the train had been so easy for you to procure. The train route so readily available. Steve had told you that there were Hydra agents on board that attacked Bucky and himself, but less than he thought there would have been.

Zola wanted to get captured. He wanted to be taken into custody, and prove his worth. He wanted SHIELD to need him. To rely on him. A parasite from within could do much more damage than someone on the outside ever could. He made sure Hydra would survive, undetectable until it was too late.

Bucky had died. He died trying to protect America. The world. He died. For this?

He died.

Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA’s new world order will arise. We won, Captain, Barnes. Your deaths amount to the same as your lives; a zero sum.

You walked up to the monitor that was displaying Zola’s face, and before anyone could reach out to stop you, you punched it with all your might. You showed no indication that your bleeding knuckles caused you any pain.

“(Y/N),” Steve said softly, walking up behind you.

As I was saying… Zola interrupted, face popping up on one of the smaller screens. What’s on this drive? Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm.

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” Nat asked, watching Steve pull you away from the monitor gingerly. She was enjoying the puzzle a lot less now.

The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.

The doors that you had entered the room from, the only doors that you were aware of, began to close. Steve turned from you, and threw his shield at them in order to avoid being trapped, but it was too late.

“Steve, we’ve got a bogey. ETA 30 seconds,” Nat said with carefully constructed calm.

“Who sent it?” Steve asked.

“SHIELD…”

Admit it, it’s better this way. We’re all three of us…out of time.

Steve looked around desperately, and found a grate in the floor. He let go of your hand, and pried the cover off. Nat jumped in. You were torn between finding protection and just accepting what was coming, when Steve pulled you in with him, covering the three of you with his shield.

There was a loud explosion, and the building began to collapse. You were buffeted by concrete and debri, and the resulting fire made it difficult to breath. In order to protect you and Nat, Steve was slightly exposed. You hoped desperately that his Super Soldier Serum would help him. You closed your eyes.

When you next opened them, you were in a car. You were dazed, but you knew that it wasn’t the one that you had driven to New Jersey in. Something was wrapped around your hand tightly, and your ribs ached. Your ears were ringing, but soon you were able to make out two voices. Steve and Nat. They were alive.

“We should go to Stark. He’s closer,” Steve argued.

“We can’t Steve, you know that,” Nat countered. “They’ll expect that. Hell, they might’ve already visited him looking for us. I don’t know if we have anywhere we can go!”

“Sam Wilson…” you piped up. Your throat was dry and sore. Smoke inhalation.

“(Y/N), thank God,” Steve sighed in relief. You felt him calm ever so slightly in knowing that you were awake. You felt the same from Nat.

“Sam Wilson?” She asked.

“We were talking to him a while ago, when you picked us up for the Lumerian Star mission,” you continued, sitting up and clicking your seat belt on. You winced when the belt brushed across your ribs.

“How will we find him?” Nat pondered.

“The old fashioned way,” Steve replied.

A long drive, and a flick through the Washington phone book later, you found him. Steve parked the car a block away, so it wouldn’t cause any problems, and you all walked, injured and exhausted, the rest of the way.

Just as you had hoped, he had taken you into his home without hesitation. “Not everyone,” he had said when Nat told him everyone you knew was trying to kill you.

Nat showered first, while you waited with Steve.

“(Y/N),” he hesitantly began. “What happened back there?”

You thought for a moment, before deciding against telling him about your realisation.

“I didn’t like what he was saying,” you lied. It would be better if he didn’t know. He already had too much to carry on his shoulders. He didn’t need to know.

“Are you sure that’s it? You don’t normally react that way… unless something really upsets you.”

“I’m sorry I lost control…”

“Don’t apologise. I was about two seconds away from doing the same. But brash reactions are not something you’re generally known for… you hurt your hand.”

“It’s fine Steve. I’ll clean it thoroughly in the shower, and bandage it afterwards. It’ll be fine.”

Nat walked back into the room from the bathroom, and sat on the bed next to you, drying her hair.

“You go (Y/N). I’ll go after you,” Steve offered.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, and you accepted his offer gratefully. You needed to be alone for a little while, to process everything that you had learned that day.

You cried in the shower. When you got out, you dried off, and wrapped your hand. The gash on your ribs would need attention too, but it was too difficult for you to manage alone.

You forced yourself to focus on something, anything, else. Luckily the awkward energy that you had felt surrounding Steve and Nat would provide a nice distraction for you. You had to force yourself to be OK, for Steve.

You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and rejoined Steve and Nat. Steve went to take his shower, and Nat went to find a drink in Sam’s kitchen. Alone again, you concentrated on Steve. And waited for him to come back into the room.

TAGLIST

@justareader @kissofvenom922 @writingruna @fandomsareforlosers
@dont-speak-just-read @annadier @anya-lv @w1nt3r-st0rm @raddadalecki @beccaanne814-blog @izzy-obwan @katbird787 @lorinicole @denisa-lata @tigerb103 @strategicscientificreserve @sebastian-bucky-stan @avengerofyourheart @the-silver-iris @shamvictoria11 @howdoesoneadult @blue1928 @sgtjamesbuchananbarnes107th @thisisthelilith @aussievinegar @iwillbeinmynest @tattoedpedsnurse @jrubalcaba @cookiedough1830 @stilldontknowhoiam @oh-soldier-my-soldier @missmotherhen @jasmins3 @buckysberrie @buckywiththegoodheart @bellenuit45 @chrixa @cornflax01 @elwenia @kenobi-and-barnes @gondorgirl01 @girlwith100names @justcallmesweets

Never Say Never (Part 4)

Pairing: Arthur (Mr.) Ketch x Reader
Word count: 1,771
Warnings: Cussing. Violence. Mentions of Blood.  Lots of blood.
Sequel: Part 4/? of  Never Say Never. This ended up becoming a mini-series.

Authors Note: I’m hoping I still kept Ketch in character with this chapter while also starting to develop his character in the direction I need him to go for this story.

Special thanks to @lucis-unicorn for being my beta, idea-bouncer, and support system.

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anonymous asked:

Disclaimer first - I'm not negative or angry + very pleased will all the lovely TFW we are getting and one thing I'm disappointed in - Is it just me or is Dean/Cas independent! relationship kinda gone-ish, 80% of all the emotional talks are always on TFW as a whole, never just Dean/Cas, even if Sam isnt there. Dean isn't ever refering to Cas in any emotional way singularly anymore (your OUR best, best friend WE've ever had, glad he cares about US, WE dont leave family behind etcetc) and cas too

Yeah, the big declarations have been all like that but having seen the whole “I love all of you” thing, I feel like they’ve been building up to actually have a family first, which is something I guess is way more important as a long term investment.

Something I’m always coming back to is that horrible isolation of Carver era. Well, I’m currently watching season 7 and at that part where they’ve now finally lost everything and it’s just Sam and Dean and not even the car. Like, Hallucifer and hunting and the Leviathan problem are literally the only constants they have from their old lives. Wow. :P

Carver era sort of puts a bit more of a fragile shell around them by giving Cas back, making Crowley a frenemy, and at least has some outside people like Charlie and Kevin even if they get killed off, but then also the wayward daughters characters who survive it, so there are at least some people to hold them accountable… During that time Cas is their only main constant family and even then terrible stuff is always happening to him and he’s always leaving, so he’s not really around except for little hints of what might be, and Cas picks up so much trauma from that too… 

I don’t know, looking at it from as outside a perspective as I can manage, I think with Mary back, and Cas MEANT to be a member of the family but needing serious integration into the family unit (12x03 with that little conversation showing Mary and Cas are struggling with the exact same thing) the show has to actually believably glue these people back together, and even Sam and Dean have huge splits that have barely been addressed (like Dean apologised for the ridiculous “sam hit a dog” grudge they started Carver era with in like, 11x11, I think? Which means they’d been actually on good terms for like maybe 12 episodes when Mary comes back :P) never mind Cas’s ocean of trauma and Mary being dropped among them out of the blue.

There’s been a real theme of teamwork this season in the big confrontation fights - 12x06, 12x07, 12x10 and 12x12 definitely all had teamwork fights taking down one big enemy together, and I may be forgetting some stuff but it’s more than enough for a pattern that they want to show the characters working together as a large and well-functioning unit - and within that, good dynamics, which they’re still working on especially for Mary, who (as we suspected she would) has only really SOLIDLY bonded with Cas because they’re both outsiders - Dean and Sam fight okay with her by their side but they need to work on interpersonal stuff (and I LOVED the shot this episode of Mary and Dean back to back with a wall between them).

To my eyes the TFW (and Mary) dynamic is clearly top priority and really important for the story they want to tell, and I’m loving the fragile way this family is being built and the exploration of the dynamics (now we’re getting later in the season I’ve seen people comment that Mary and Sam got a bad deal, but honestly for the first like 6 episodes of the season I was contemplating devoting my blog entirely to their drama and just forgetting Dean and Cas completely because I was so into what was going on there, and find it really weird people weren’t picking up on that because I thought all the subtext about Azazel coming between them was brilliant use of the characters and it just all suddenly paid off and I probably yelled louder about a Yellow Eyed demon showing up than I did about the whole “I love you” nonsense. :P There’s a part of my soul which is always going to be seasons 1-2 of Supernatural all on their own >.>)

But I think there’s still a ton of DeanCas this season, just underneath the main message they’re pushing, all the stuff like Dean and Cas just being prioritised when it comes to stuff like of course when the season starts Cas urgently gets back to Dean immediately and the story starts with them together. Of course Sam waits with Lily Sunder while Dean rushes off to help Cas. Of course Dean gets all weird and pissy about Cas working with Crowley and Sam like has nothing to do with this, at all. Of course when they get out of prison Dean is phoning Cas urgently to come get them, and sits in the back of the car with him. Of course he’s the one having the angry feud about caring too much vs being reckless after Cas invites his cosmic consequences. Of course when Cas is dying Dean is the one who rushes over to check on him and subtly all through that sequence is the one with the most focus on ALL the reaction shots, and the centre of the drama. 

And the little things like of course Dean phones Cas here, asks him to stay for breakfast there, is the one to hand him a beer and pat his shoulder, holds on just that much longer when he and Sam haul Cas to his feet (which I think is the perfect 1 tiny moment to demonstrate the whole thing of Dean just caring that little bit more even though Sam and Cas easily and happily could consider each other family at this point)

It’s like… Even when they’re not strictly telling us a story ABOUT Dean and Cas alone there’s just a little bit extra something going on between them, constantly, like, they just drift next to each other, or end up paying way more attention to each other? Like Dean at the diner in 12x12, Cas’s presence and the Mandy thing ends up this itch he has to scratch, he can’t stop bringing it up - weirdness between Dean and Cas derails the conversation repeatedly, and from both Cas and Mary’s POV we see Dean almost, like, fixated on Cas’s presence, while he’s all brotherly and annoying to Sam vying for attention complaining about the wifi, Dean just snores at him and goes back to I think just trying to get a rise out of Cas. 

I wouldn’t say any of this is really doing anything with them because the emotional arc right now is Family and creating a plausible version of Supernatural where it’s not two lonely angry brothers and sometimes people who help them and peripheral people they love but don’t, like… function in this way. Not in this whole promised dynamic of how that group exorcism went down in 12x06, or how Sam and Mary and Dean took on a Prince of Hell to save Cas (and even Crowley proved he has his own strange seat at this table there)… But they’re certainly keeping a sort of ongoing feeling there, that there’s just something extra about how Dean feels about Cas, and as usual, with 12x10 especially, the story about angels and romantic love is repeated and used between Dean and Cas, like, that’s all still there… I don’t know, every time something ridiculously small happens like Cas shows up and Dean rotates his entire body to face him on instinct, I’m like, yeah, we’re still existing in a story where Destiel is a presence

Undead Diaries (Part 1)

Pairing: BuckyxReader

Word Count: 2305

Summary: HYDRA have turned you into a monster and locked you away untouched. Raised by HYDRA against your will since you could remember and separated from a long lost sister who by now you have long forgotten. When the Avengers have rejoined they decide to take down every HYDRA base one step at a time. What happens when that base is yours?

Tag List: OPEN (Ask me if you wish to be added).

Originally posted by trololololololololooo

A:N) Look guys, I got my shit together and started a new series. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. Feedback or absolute anything is welcomed. Thank you for your patients guys.

Keep reading

Taken (Part 12)

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader
Summary: When Sam, the reader’s fiancee, is kidnapped with no explanation, the reader uses the help of Dean to find her lost love.  However, many unforeseen things happen on the journey to find Sam. How will Dean and the reader deal with developing feelings for one another?
Reader Gender: Female
Word Count: 2,263
Tags: canon-level gore/violence, situational angst, eventual Dean x Reader
A/N: Let me know what you think!!

TAKEN MASTERLIST

Excerpt:

“Can I join you?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Dean jumped slightly at your voice and glanced over at you, surprised.  When he realized who it was, he relaxed and nodded, remaining silent.  He returned his gaze back up to the heavens.

“Didn’t take you for a stargazer,” you murmured, settling next to him on the small bench.

“I’m not.”

Keep reading

Find a comfy position, grab a tea and get ready to binge-read the heck out of these wonderful fics! At the beginning of the month I asked followers and stucky lovers on tumblr to send in their favourite Stucky fanfictions which had been written and completed in 2015. I cannot thank everyone who submitted their favs enough! This is the most EPIC list on this blog and it is all because of you guys! But enough rambling from me. Happy readings! And I wish everyone the very best in the New Year! 

All fanfictions listed below are for the pairing Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes. There is no order to this list. Please read all tags and author notes before reading. 

our golden age by augustbird

Wherein Bucky is the crown prince and Steve still becomes a hero.

rated explicit . 147k

Schrödinger’s Romance by InTheMiddleOfNowhere

“It could be a relationship, it could not be. You can assume either until you see for sure the results.”

We all know those moments. Those moments when your family all gathers around you and asks “So, do you have a boyfriend yet?”. Bucky knows these moments all too well and, quite frankly, he’s sick to death of them. Unfortunately, being a 21 year old college student makes it harder for him to come up with excuses, and with Christmas coming up he needs to think of a way out fast. A chance encounter with a stranger through an old library textbook could just be the kind of miracle he needs to make it through the holidays with his last shreds of sanity intact.

rated mature . 196k

Melt Into, Melt Until by notoska

Steve looks up and holds his blown black eyes. “Tell me how you want to fuck me.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open a little and his eyes roll. “Slow,” he slurs, his body is rocking back and forth with Steve’s touch, “So slow. So slow that you beg.” Bucky lifts his head again. He pushes his forehead to Steve’s and his voice dips, “So slow you start fucking yourself on it. And deep—” Bucky moans, biting his lip, “So fucking deep. Spread you open so I can get deeper. Make you come so hard you beg for more before your cock’s gone soft.”

rated explicit . 79k

Is It Pretending If I Already Want You? by OhCaptainMyCaptain

Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they’re never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event"

Basic Steps to Getting Yourself In a Pickle With Both Your Family and The Guy You’ve Secretly Crushed On For Five Years (A Guide):

STEP 1: After being perpetually single and constantly making up excuses to your family, give in and lie about having a boyfriend.
STEP 2: Agree to bring said boyfriend to the family cottage for a week so he can be your date to your parents’ wedding anniversary party.
STEP 3: Panic.
STEP 4: Say ‘yes’ when your best friend and closet crush - who you’re convinced isn’t interested in you that way in the least - offers to be your pretend boyfriend.
STEP 5: Try your best not to fall in love with them during the trip.
STEP 6: Fail miserably.

rated explicit . 85k

It’s Just Temporary by perfect_plan

Bucky Barnes has no idea what he wants to do with his life and is stumbling from one temp job to the next. Hopefully he can keep his new job at Stark Industries for longer than a week…

rated mature . 52k

Thawed Out by auburnnothenna (auburn) and eretria

He’s not the Asset. He’s not the Winter Soldier. But neither is he Bucky Barnes. With the help of Steve, Sam and the Avengers, James takes the long, slow road to recovery. Nothing is as easy as either of them thought it would be.

rated explicit . 159k

Into That Good Night by Nonymos

Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world’s end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what’s left of mankind towards the exit.

But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

rated explicit . 73k

nothing goes over his head by fmo

In which Bucky gets knocked out briefly during a mission, wakes up fine, and then spends a day enduring strange hints, clandestine looks, and cryptic texts from his friends. Steve will never let him live this one down.

rated teen . 1k

4 Minute Window by Speranza

“Look, if they catch me,” Bucky muttered, “they’re either going to kill me or they’re going to put me in a box with a little window and—Steve, I can’t.”

rated explicit . 24k

if the bad times are coming let 'em come by suzukiblu

“I think I’m gonna have to hurt some people,” Steve Rogers says, voice tight with rage. The asset assumes that will be him, then laughs at himself for the thought.

He’s not people.

rated explicit . 9k

If Ye Be Worthy (the Stubborn as a Brick Wall Remix) by Taste_is_Sweet

Bucky didn’t even glance up from beating the trembling heavy bag to death. “You’re gonna tell me that being turned into the Red Room’s assassin and then Hydra’s fucking attack dog for seventy-whatever years wasn’t my fault and that Tony was talking crap and you can’t think of anyone more worthy to hold Mjölnir than me.”

“Well, you’re right,” Steve said, only barely surprised. “So why the hell are you still down here?”

The look Bucky threw him was too resigned for a glare. “Because we both know that’s bullshit.”

rated teen . 6k

What If I Told You by DeadWalker

Bucky tries to tell Steve something important. It takes a few tries before he gets it right.

rated teen . 8k

Sincerely, Your Pal by lettered

“[…] lesbians and gay men writing letters to their lovers and friends faced the special problem of wartime censorship. Military censors, of course, cut out all information that might aid the enemy, but this surveillance made it necessary for gay and lesbian correspondents to be careful not to expose their homosexuality. To get around this, gay men befriended sympathetic censors or tricked others by using campy phrases, signing a woman’s name (like Dixie or Daisy), or changing the gender of their friends. Sailors became WAVEs, boyfriends became WACs, Robert became Roberta. There must exist, hidden in closets and attics all over America, a huge literature of these World War II letters between lesbians and between gay men that would tell us even more about this important part of American history.” - Coming Out Under Fire: The History of Gay Men and Women In World War Two, by Allan Berube

rated mature . 65k

Your Lack Of An Answer Is Kind Of An Answer: Four Questions Natasha Asked Steve Rogers, And One Time Bucky Barnes Answered by Speranza

“All right, I have a question for you. Oh, but you don’t have to answer it. I feel like if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it, you know…”

rated mature . 4k

A Precarious, Fragile Thing by Taste_is_Sweet

“I didn’t know he did that,” Tony said. He knew Bucky liked tucking himself so far under Steve’s arm that it was like he was trying to climb into his armpit. But he’d always stayed upright, just kind of plastering himself against Steve’s side. This blanket thing was new.

“Seventy years of skin hunger,” Steve said. His voice was just as soft, but for a moment his eyes flickered hot with anger, bright as the candy-colored screen. “He was always tactile. Now, when things get…well, sometimes it helps. The contact.”

And it looked…nice, the two of them together like that: Comfortable. Familiar. Safe. Tony knew what a precarious, fragile thing it was, to feel safe in the middle of the night.

rated teen . 6k

Blood And Frost Bite by thegreennoodle

Steve took a few deep breaths. He wasn’t sure he could handle another minute with this monster. “And what about me? I’m an easy target, aren’t I? Why aren’t you killing me right now?”

The man frowned. He seemed confused as well. “I don’t want to.”

“Why did you bring me here if you won’t kill me?”

Another damn shrug. “Felt like it.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned. He had been taken to god-knew-where on the complete whim of a murderer. And he thought his life sucked before.

Steve’s life was normal enough. He had an average job and a crappy apartment. Boring, but he knew it could be worse. Unfortunately, it does become much worse for him when he encounters one of the most infamous serial killers in U.S. history and is swept up into his world. Steve must now do his best to survive and maintain his sanity, all the while trying to figure out what his captor really wants.

rated mature . 59k

I was wearing my blue coat by Maelipstick

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

rated explicit . 11k

home is the nicest word there is by sheisraging

Sometimes they’re just obnoxious to each other for the sake of being obnoxious. It must be some left over behavior from years of being in each other’s pockets. Playmates, schoolboys, roommates, army boys, lovers – there’s a lot of relationship in there. The others don’t even try to pretend they get it.

rated general . 5k

Take Me to Church by neversaydie

Steve Rogers is a struggling artist. It’s not as romantic as it sounds.

What Steve really wants is a job as a session musician. He can play enough instruments that he could make a decent amount of money doing it, but in New York there are just too many talented musicians and not enough jobs to go around. So he takes jobs in hipster bars, hotel lobbies, at weddings and bar mitzvahs and office parties.

If he gets one more request for Let it Go, he swears he’ll find it within himself to punch a child.

He lives in a tiny, shitty apartment with Sam, who was his sort-of-boyfriend for a few weeks until he decided Steve’s very domestic relationship goals weren’t for him. They’re still pretty much best friends, luckily for Steve, because when the regular pianist at Sam’s dance company runs away to Canada he’s recommended his roommate and got him the job before Steve even knows about it.

Dancers. Steve’s going to have to spend his days with dancers. Great.

rated explicit . 124k 

Team-Building Exercises by owlet

Integration into adult human social dynamics requires attention and effort. Especially with this bunch of damaged bozos.

(A series of interconnected one-shots.)

rated teen . 22k

Half of the History (We Shall Never Know) by Speranza

This is a war story.

rated explicit . 36k

Shangri-La by nimmieamee

Steve gets money, still won’t move in with Bucky, and somehow totally misses that Queer Brooklyn is an option.

rated teen . 6k

Sharp Teeth and Bird Bones by Shaish and Stringlish

I’ll always find you.

rated explicit . 32k

hold me until we crumble by queenklu

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

rated NA . 22k

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain

They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.

And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

rated explicit . 100k

Apes Debemus Imitari (We Should Imitate the Bees) by buckysbees

Steve operates a fruit & veg stand at a farmer’s market. Bucky keeps bees and has started up a honey shop just opposite. They’re failing to get along. Steve gets along a lot better with the anonymous friend he’s been writing letters to. In fact, he’s rapidly falling for him.

rated general . 15k

Copy Of A… by Brenda

“This…” He hesitates, a breath between heartbeats, and waits in vain for the ache to subside. “I’ve done this before.”

rated mature . 1k

just say you do by biblionerd07

Steve just wanted a job. He wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to accept.

rated teen . 173k

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn’t have much to do when he’s not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it’s real or if he’s starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

rated mature . 26k

what would i try to say by Feather (lalaietha)

And maybe, maybe someday Bucky will have to tell Natalia exactly how fucking glad he is none of her attempts to set Steve up worked, and how it has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with how sex, sex that works, makes Steve’s walls drop like fucking water.

And how it’s hard to tell what’s worse, because if you know what you’re looking at you know how easy it would be to fuck him up and that makes him such an easy fucking target - but if you don’t, you might just do it by accident anyway.

rated mature . 1k 

Sing Me the Alphabet by thesardine

There wasn’t anything left to salvage. That’s what Fury believed. It would have been a kindness to put him down.

When SHIELD finally releases Bucky from custody, he is not the man anyone expects him to be. The ruthlessness of the Winter Soldier is gone, replaced with a child-like wariness as he struggles to communicate his warped understanding of who he is and what was done to him. But with Hydra scrambling to regroup, SHIELD takes dangerous measures to secure Zola’s algorithm to use against them, and Steve is dragged back into battle, forced to weigh what’s best for Bucky against what’s best for the fate of the free world.

Then Bucky is abducted.

Steve races to recover his friend before the man who was Bucky is gone forever. When the rescue stalls, he starts to crumble under the weight of everything he has lost and everything the war has taken from him.

Meanwhile, Bucky confronts a terrible piece of ex-SHIELD tech that was in development long before Project Insight, but in order to survive, he must decide who he is going to be: the vulnerable Bucky Barnes or the indomitable Winter Soldier? It turns out there might not be as big a difference as everyone seems to think.

rated teen . 78k

Cognitive Recalibration by stele3

The subject will need extensive re-programming.

rated teen . 7k

In the Stardust of a Song by gwyneth rhys (gwyneth)

The shudder courses through you again, there’s a vicious throb like that first touch of the ice on your skin. You don’t know this song. You don’t know any music at all.

rated mature . 9k

Make a Thing Go Right by hansbekhart

Sam meets Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes on a Thursday night, at a burlesque show, and how it happens is this:

It’s already late, later than he should be out on a weeknight, but the theme of the show was a super hero revue and there was no way he was gonna miss that. It’s loud in the venue, which is the back space of what probably used to be a warehouse right near the Gowanus Canal, and Sam’s already had a few. He’s up at the bar during the break, watching the act. He doesn’t hear someone say, “Behind!” so when he steps away from the bar, he smashes right into the guy who’d just done the Captain America routine up on stage, and knocks his drinks to the ground.

-
Or, I wanted to see more stories that captured the weirdness and complexity of being queer, in your late 20s, and trying to date in Brooklyn - which is my life - so I wrote one. Takes place in the MCU.

rated explicit . 100k

The Man On The Wall by CaseyStar

Bucky Barnes was a member of Ares 3.

Now he’s the lone man on Mars, with no communications, not enough food and no way to get home.

He’s a little fucked off about it.

rated teen . 182k

Hard to Say by betty days (sadrobots)

“What worked for me was a nice, solid punch in the face. I’m not sure that’ll do much for you, though. Looks like you’ve been through enough already,” Hawkeye said.

rated mature . 17k

Any Old Bed Of Nails by Clytaemnestra

“Bucky looks at him, through him; doesn’t meet his eyes. "I know you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says slowly, forcing words out through a throat that has just closed up. “You know me.”

Bucky nods jerkily, and produces a gun from somewhere. He offers it to Steve, handle first. “Asset reporting for debrief,” he says.

Steve doesn’t know what else to do. He takes it.“

A couple of weeks after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky surrenders to Steve. Then he starts the long road to recovery. Prepare for angst. Lots of angst.

rated mature . 26k

The Tower by sarahlucielle

Peggy Carter recruits Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes to fight against Baron Zemo, a man who desires the powers of the entity that has taken a liking to Steve Rogers. The Howling Commandos search Europe for artifacts with the mission to retrieve them before Zemo’s Secret Empire can, but the Baron is ruthless and patient, willing to play the long game.

As the world explodes into a war seeped in occult forces and lead by madmen, Bucky has to admit for his own peace of mind that he’s always loved Steve Rogers and would follow him into any kind of war, no matter how strange.

Horror AU set in World War II.

rated explicit . 76k

I’m Not Sick (But I’m Not Well) by loonietuna

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

rated mature . 29k

20th Century Limited by Speranza

"Where am I? Where is this?” and he was in Brooklyn, he was on a beach, the train was shaking around him. He was in the plane, ice splintering up onto the windshield. He was in a tank, tubes trailing from his face, from his groin. Christ, he was cold. There was still ice on his fingers. He was in the Grand Canyon. He was in Times Square. This couldn’t be Times Square. Where the hell was this? “Tell me! Where am I, who are you, where's—” —Bucky?

rated explicit . 52k

Poppies of the Field by kaasknot

“Thank you for purchasing a StarkTech Companion 'Bot! Please state your name for licensing.”

Wherein Bucky is a severely agoraphobic combat veteran, and Steve is the android he buys out of loneliness.

rated mature . 63k

This, You Protect by owlet

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

rated teen . 64k (see note below)

Upgrade: Advanced Happiness Skills by owlet

WARNING: Reference to past sexual assault (not explicit)

Barnes’s body does a new thing. Thanks for all the trouble, body.

rated mature . 15k

NOTE: the entire series “Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail” was also submitted which can be found HERE on AO3!

Leave Me On The Mountain by perfect_plan

Bucky is certain that he’s about to die, cold and lost in this mountain forest. But just as he thinks that the wolves have him, someone finds him and takes him in.

rated mature . 18k

and never be forsaken by hitlikehammers

Truth is, Bucky’s always been giving up something, sacrificing pieces of himself on the promise that the trade would keep Steve with him, keep Steve breathing, keep Steve here.

Steve’s just never noticed, never put it all together, until now.

rated teen . 4k

Kotik by Taste_is_Sweet

No one knows Steve Rogers is a witch until he nearly dies and accidentally creates a familiar to save himself. The familiar is part cat, part ghost, and shares Steve’s soul. His name is James Buchanan Barnes.

But little boys don’t have cat ears, claws, or tails, and they’re terrible at keeping secrets. To protect them, Sarah Rogers asks a witch to make Bucky seem human, and then enchant the boys to forget he’s not.

Steve and Bucky grow up inseparable, but they don’t talk about how they know when the other’s hurting, and Bucky never tells Steve about the urge to hunt he can barely control.

He’s terrified he’s a monster, and then the War comes and then Azzano, and Bucky finds out he’s right.

And then he falls, and Hydra finds him.

(“What are you?” Steve says.

“I don’t k-know.” James looks at his hand, the sharp, curving claws, then at Steve again. “D-do you know? You made me.”)

rated mature . 59k

Catfish by L1av

Catfish /ˈkatˌfiSH/ - A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they’re not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn’t expect is a guy using Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating site?

Not like it’s really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

rated explicit . 28k

Since I can’t remember when by euseevius

Steve Rogers is in love with James Barnes. Some people realize that sooner than others.

rated NA . 397

My Good Fellow by euseevius

”Would you marry me if I asked, Stevie?”

Or in which Steve and Bucky get married three times.

rated general . 1k

Scrap Metal by Scappodaqui an tinzelda

Steve and Bucky write each other during the war. With more than your usual inclusion of spam & jam sandwiches, chickens, radar-evasion devices, Dum Dum Dugan’s hat, and that dumb lunkhead who plays Captain America. Who’s that, Steve? Oh, just some guy I work with.

Title is a reference, in part, to this scene from The First Avenger–

Bucky: Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.
Steve: What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal…
Bucky: Yes!
Steve Rogers: …in my little red wagon.
Bucky: Why not?

rated mature . 31k

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you by Scappodaqui

Bucky sometimes caught himself thinking, about the war: is all of this happening because old men saw the raw life in young men and wanted to squelch it? It was the same thing he had thought in school. Running track. When he had worked in the crew building the World’s Fair Railroad. And especially when he got his draft letter: they want to crush us like a piece of tin on train tracks.

Begins at Kreischberg prison camp, continues after the rescue.

rated explicit . 40k

steve rogers: pr disaster by @idiopath-fic-smile

“Wait,” says Sam, “you had a publicist?”

“For my first five months at S.H.I.E.L.D,” says Steve. “Then she quit. Uh, decisively.”

rated general . 4k

Some days last longer than others by crooked and notallbees

Bucky moves onto Pastor Rogers’ farm on a Sunday.

“Can’t offer you much right now,” Rogers had said with a sad twist to his mouth, “but there’s an old cabin needs fixing up, you’re welcome to camp out there and do whatever you want with it.” He laughed. “Maybe you can even teach my boy to use a hammer.”

The pastor’s seventeen year old son Steve is the last thing Bucky expects. He’s got a smart mouth, a nose for trouble, and a habit of seducing members of the football team. Bucky didn’t think he was looking for anything, but Steve ’s got his own ideas about what Bucky needs.

rated explicit . 85k

through smoke, solid ground by magdaliny

You take the arm off four days later.

rated teen . 25k

QuickPic by biblionerd07

Steve loses his phone and doesn’t think too much about it…until someone puts his pictures and texts on the internet.

rated general . 5k

All Those Things You’ve Always Pined For by LavenderProse

Steve Rogers. I haven’t thought about him in…God, at least ten years. Probably longer.“
“Who is he?” Sharon asks, and perches on the corner of his desk, hands folded in her lap. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Bucky clears his throat, tosses the sticky note onto the desk. “Steve was…my college boyfriend. We almost got married.”

It’s been fifteen years since Bucky Barnes left Steve Rogers standing in a New York airport and never saw him again. Those fifteen years have brought him wealth and stability; everything his lower middle class Brooklyn upbringing had not provided. He is happy. He doesn’t want for anything.
He doesn’t need anything.
That’s about to change.

rated explicit . 92k

It’s possible that he wants you too by belovedmuerto

“Bucky kissed me this morning,” Steve says, not quite believing the words even as they’re coming out of his mouth.

“Wait,” Sam replies. “Back up.”

rated teen . 4k

Benefit by ibroketuesday

Saving Bucky was the easy part. The hard part is the garden parties they have to attend afterward.

rated mature . 11k

Milestones by andloawhatsit

Brooklyn 1918 to Brooklyn 2015: In which Steve questions his humanity, has a mid-twenties crisis (though he doesn’t call it that), makes friends, falls in love again, and slowly learns that he doesn’t need to live in the past to honour his memories.

This is a soulmates AU, written for bisexualstevenrogers to explore what this kind of universe would look like in the day-to-day—that is, the idea of soulmates against our actual world and histories—as well as what it might mean for someone like Steve or Bucky, who have had their bodies altered and subjected to someone else’s control. For them, I think, the idea of soulmates and soulmate tattoos—which direct you without your permission—can really highlight how much they struggle for their individuality and personal freedom (and to sort themselves out in the 21st-century).

rated teen . 54k

Friday I’m in Love by betty days (sadrobots)

barefootbucky: heyyy! sorry it took me so long to reply. hope you got the last few postcards i sent. ok so i’m in istanbul now and there’s a dirt cheap direct flight to dc. thinkin about stopping by for a bit. mind if i crash with you? the road is great and all but i think i need some time to recoup.

rated explicit . 8k

Nietzsche is Dead by mambo

“God is dead.” —Nietzsche
“Nietzsche is dead.” —God
“Doesn’t matter if God is dead, or Nietzsche, or both.” —Sam Wilson

rated teen . 10k

Under Paper Skies by InterruptingDinosaur

All Bucky wants is to get back to New York in time for his meeting, but his luck runs out when a blizzard traps him in D.C. It gets even worse when the guy looking like Bucky’s every dirty fantasy come to life catches him giggling at the erotic thrillers in the romance section of the airport bookstore.

So much for making a good first impression.

rated mature . 18k

Project Phoenix by TheAvalonian

“They told me you were enemies,” the girl said blankly. “They told me I had been forged in hatred.”

Neither Bucky nor Steve said anything for a long time. The girl stayed with her hand pressed to the glass, waiting. This time, the question was there, even if she hadn’t asked it outright.

Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Steve’s and pushing down on the handle. “Well, they lied,” he said gruffly, and strode out the door without looking back.

Post-TWS, Steve and Bucky’s lives are just starting to resemble some kind of normal when a young Hydra agent shows up in the lobby of the Avengers’ Tower, claiming to be their daughter.

rated teen . 73k

Past Lives by earthseraph

Steven Grant Rogers: Male, 32 years old, former Army Captain, present day art professor at NYU.

James Grant: Male, 33 years old, mysterious writer of a book that sounds a lot like Steve and Bucky’s life, told from Bucky’s point of view.

But Bucky’s dead. He died in action during the Iraq war- didn’t he?

(Or: The one where Bucky’s supposed to be dead, Steve’s supposed to have moved on, but there’s a book and two very amused friends.)

rated mature . 46k

Too Long We Have Tarried by kototyph

Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

rated explicit . 19k

Click Here to Read Full Article by thecommodore_squid

“You’re losing public favor at a dramatic rate.”

“Oh.”

Fury glared. “Fortunately, I am smart enough for the both of us and have created a narrow pathway of recovery. This option has a little bit of opportunity-cost, but I’m eighty-three percent sure that it’ll be worth it and it’ll work in the long run.” Nick paused, then amended, “Eighty-two percent.”

AKA
A Fake Dating AU in which Steve and Bucky are famous.

rated mature . 33k

Hell On Wheels by LastAmericanMermaid

Bucky Barnes is an honorably discharged soldier who was captured by enemies while on a covert op and still struggles with PTSD–

His roommate is Natasha, lead jammer for the Brooklyn Bombshells, a WFTDA roller derby team with national ranking owned by obnoxious billionaire Tony Stark.

Natasha’s derby team’s new coach is Steve Rogers, ex-army and ex-NHL, total nerd and complete life-ruining babe.

Somewhere in all the team rivalry, and the wipeouts, and the uphill climb of recovery, two dudes on skates figure out that they want to kiss each other.

rated mature . 37k

The Fifties by Speranza

"Because everything’s all right, isn’t it?” Bucky said. “Everything’s great. I’m so happy; I never thought I could be this happy. You’re happy, too, aren’t you, Peg?”

rated explicit . 28k

The Needle and the Killing Done by spitandvinegar

The asset wears blue jeans, a t-shirt, a denim jacket. The asset wears one glove. The asset walks around the city. It feels as if it remembers something. It doesn’t know what it remembers. Perhaps it remembers everything.

After two days the insects crawling over the asset’s body become intolerable. The asset uses its metal arm to attempt to remove the insects from the meat arm. The results are not satisfactory.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” says a pile of refuse.

rated mature . 7k

Snickerdoodles Are the Way to Steve’s Heart by HMSLusitania

Steve can’t help but be a little annoyed when Natasha signs him up for a cooking class - a couple’s cooking class. At least, he’s annoyed until he meets the instructor, who might just be the most attractive man Steve has ever laid eyes on.

Featuring chef!Bucky, bitterly single Steve, and their meddling friends.

rated teen . 15k

My Arms Were Made To Hold You by portraitofemmy and rainbow_marbles

Tired of being kept awake at night by a screaming baby, Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands. Mostly he wants a good night’s sleep, but what he gets is beautiful baby boy with big blue eyes, a lonely father trying to move on from tragedy, and a chance at a family he never expected to have.

rated explicit . 55k

Acting Their Age by @ipoiledi

Prompt: Oh god I live for Steve and Bucky acting like the 20somthing they are together, loving junk food, and doing stupid things (like the time they made a sex tape and mistakenly shared it with all the avengers… and by mistakenly I mean totally on purpose because Bucky’s probably a bit of an exhibitionist too, like “LOOK, LOOK AT MY BABYDOLL, ISN’T HE GORGEOUS? AND HE’S ALL MINE, NO YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM HAHAHA”)

rated NA . ~1-2k

Steve Rogers’ Dad Face and Other Common Hazards by AggressiveWhenStartled

Today, Peter was honest-to-god going to see Captain America himself up close, in person, and not from a rooftop or tiny crevice like a creepy stalker fanboy.

Even better, he was going to watch Steve Rogers make history by soldiering his beleaguered way through the most intensely awkward and honestly ridiculous press conference in the history of ever– jaw thrust out and spine ramrod straight. Trying hard to be polite and respectful in the face of adversity.

While a bunch of assholes with cameras and microphones shouted at him about Iron Man’s adolescent dick.

rated teen . 4k

Note: The entire series called “Workplace Hazards” was also submitted and can be found HERE on AO3.

Between Their Names by Sproings

What would a background check have turned up about Steven Grant Rogers?

Hopefully not the fact that Bucky could still remember the guy’s middle name. But certainly the fact that Steve and Bucky (and Jesus how their names still flowed together in his head) had spent three years living on the same street, going to the same school.

And now they were strangers.

AKA The one where Steve teaches a knitting class, and Bucky hides in a tree, and there’s a cat named Peepers

rated mature . 20k

Off The Record by Brenda

“This is a serious coup, James. Steve Rogers has never sat down with a member of the press and given an interview. Ever. Do you know how rare that is for the fourth-string star on a cable reality show, much less the biggest movie star in the world?”

rated explicit . 9k

Series: Reciprocity by osprey_archer

A series of fics that started in 2014 but ended in 2015. Starts with the fic Self-Abuse: 

“You want me to give you a handjob,” said Steve, because he was having trouble processing this. “You can’t take care of it yourself?”

“No.” Bucky sounded annoyed. “Self-abuse makes you go blind and grow hair on your palms.”

Of course one of the few things Bucky remembered from the thirties were anti-masturbation pamphlets.

rated teen - explicit . 162k

Thaw by I_Dont_KnowWhatImDoing

Even below the layers of armor and muscle, Steve feels the bite of the cold. It’s not quite as intense or racking as it used to be back when his body was thin and offered little to protect him from the elements, but it’s present and pulling and unpleasant. It’s high on his list of immediate concerns, though not for himself. The numbness brings him back to the last time he was in Russia, 70 years earlier. But that was back when Bucky had been watching his back, alert and dependable, not glued to his front and immobile as he is now.

He’s finally found the ghost he’s been chasing. The question now is how does he bring him home?

rated explicit . 10k

Venus in Vibranium by betty days (sadrobots)

“To be a Lead’s Support is a substantial responsibility,“ Natasha says. "You must be Agent Rogers’ personal assistant, bodyguard, chef, maid, best friend, boyfriend, and whatever else he wishes you to be.”

rated explicit . 58k

The Sun & The Star by greenbergsays

There is a way these things are done; this is not it.

Or the one where Steve belongs to the Winter Soldier.

rated teen . 2k

Slide To Answer by relenafanel

"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

rated teen . 6k


Originally posted by drunkbroadway

That’s it! It’s been a great year of amazing fics and I can’t wait until we are all overwhelmed with the feels and inspired to make even more Stucky fic in the coming new year and the release of Civil War. Huge kudos to the dedicated writers, many listed, and the thousands that aren’t - your fics have helped make 2015 a really good year. 

Happy New Years!

MASTERPOST of all Stucky recs and rec lists!


ps - if you submitted a fic and couldn’t find it on the list, I only listed those that were written in 2015 and that were completely finished. So all WIPs will need to wait until next years list! 

Just In Time

Pairing: Sam x Reader
Words: 1322
Requested by Anonymous:  Can you do a one shot (SPN) where the reader is kidnapped by demons for information on the boys, and she’s tortured to the brink of death; Sam and Dean save her literally one minute before a demon was about to kill her, and it ends with a Sam love confession? Thank you! 😘 

Warning: Torture, near death

A/N: If you want tagged in anything, just let me know. :)



           One freaking normal day. That’s all you asked for. Was that too much? Apparently it was. Because instead of shopping and just being a normal person, you were now tied to a chair with a demon standing in front of you. Unfortunately, this was more normal for you than what you had planned for your day.

           “What do you want?” you asked the demon, rolling your eyes as he stood in front of you, just staring at you.

           “I think you know exactly what I want,” he said.

           “Fancy a chat?” you asked.

           “Where are the Winchester’s?” he asked, ignoring your attempt at snarky banter, “Start talking.”

           “Okay, well, Dean’s at this place between really wanting some pie and really wanting a cheeseburger. And Sam’s probably nose deep in a book,” you answered, shrugging your shoulders as much as you could.

           You felt the punch and held back the cry that threatened to escape, “I’m not here for games!”

           “But games are so fun,” you countered, opening and closing your mouth to try and judge if there was much damage.

           “You’ll hate this one, Little Girl. You either tell me what I want to know or you’ll never see the light of day again.”

           You knew he wasn’t joking. You knew you could die at his hand. You knew you probably would die.

Keep reading

Little fall of rain

(A/N): I’ve only ever seen Les Miserables one time and I don’t remember much of it so I am so sorry If I botched this request!

Request: If you’re up for some angst, could you write a Bucky Barnes x Reader based off of Little Fall of Rain from Les Miserables? Thank you!

Warnings: death

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor


Originally posted by buckybass

   (I’d also like to add that Bucky and the reader are a thing in this, rather than the whole Epinone and Marius where one of them loves the other and the other does not)

    Everyone knew what the expense was going to be when they started this was, they knew Thanos was far more powerful than any of them, they knew that people were going to die, but they had never thought that it’d be one of their own…

   Blood gushed from the wound in the back of (Y/N)’s head, a piece of rubble had hit them, go figure they’d die by the hands of a building rather than one of the stones or Thanos himself. Their body was already going limp as a puddle of blood formed below their body, their hair stuck to their head, their eyes were slowly but surely glazing over, and of course Bucky was cradling their limp body, sobbing against them. 

  “Oh my god (Y/N),” He whispers, his arms shaking just the tiniest bit. “There’s so much, there’s so much blood,” 

   “It’s okay Bucky,” (Y/N) whispers, reaching up with a weak and unsteady hand to cup his cheek. His tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he held them, wishing- begging- paying- to any entity out there that (Y/N) would survive this. “I don’t even feel it anymore,” Bucky sobs harder, his entire chest constricting as he does. 

   “Please, there has to be something I can do,” His voice is no louder than a whisper as he shakes, his tears cascading down his cheeks and onto (Y/N)’s blood stained suit. 

   “Hold me,” (Y/N) whispers, smiling up at Bucky sadly, their eyes glazed over with their own tears. “Please just hold me,” Bucky nods, biting back another heart breaking sob at (Y/N)’s words. 

   “I’ll hold you,” Bucky states, as if trying to convince himself of his words. (Y/N) smiles once again, their lips barely twitching upwards. 

   “Do you know-” (Y/N) pauses, their eyes closing for only a moment. Bucky’s heart began to race even more, his throat constricting as (Y/N) went even more limp in his arms, practically putty now. “Do you know how much I love you?” 

   “If you love me,” Bucky whispers, sniffling loudly, “Please don’t leave me, God- I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” (Y/N) lets their head loll to the side, resting against Bucky’s chest as more blood oozed into their hair. 

   “I can’t- I can’t stay Bucky, we both know that,” Bucky bites his lip, his chest clenching in pain. 

   “Stay with me for just a little longer then…please?” 

  “I-I’ll try to hold on,” (Y/N) whispers, their voice suddenly losing its conviction. “I don’t know how long I can though,” By now Steve had noticed Bucky’s disappearance and he had gone searching for his best friend, stumbling upon the scene unfolding. His own chest constricted at the sight- at the blood, at the way Bucky’s body shook with the effort of keeping it together. He’d already lost so much- he couldn’t lose (Y/N), he just couldn’t. “I’m so sorry Buck,” they whisper, their eyes slipping closed once again. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t settle down, buy that house you wanted,” Bucky’s tears return full swing, his heart aching even more than before. They had been planning a future for months, they had been eyeing a cute house down in Washington for a while, they’d talked about a nice summer wedding, they’d even discussed children and now none of that was ever going to happen. “I’m sorry for all of this,” 

   “Don’t be sorry,” Bucky whispers, his voice shaking just a bit. “You have no reason to be-” Bucky stops when (Y/N)’s eyes don’t open, their chest stops rising and falling against his own, their lips suddenly part as they release their last breath. “(Y/N)?” Bucky asks, hoping for an answer but he already knew he wasn’t going to be receiving one back. “(Y/N)?” His voice cracks now, his sobs pushing upwards into his throat. When (Y/N) doesn’t respond Bucky loses it, his entire form shaking as he cries, sobs, screams in pain and loss. A small group has gathered by now; Steve, Sam, Nat, some of the other players in Thanos’ game but Bucky couldn’t be bothered right now, not when his precious (Y/N) had just died in his arms. Steve sighs shakily, his own tears gathering in his eyes as he takes a step towards Bucky and (Y/N), placing a gentle hand on his friends shoulder. 

   “Buck, we’ve gotta go-” 

   “I’m not leaving them-” Bucky nearly growls, his throat straining in pain. “I’m not gonna leave them here all alone and-” 

   “Bucky, we have to, if we don’t leave now then we’re all gonna die too-” 

   “Then let me,” Bucky hisses, clutching (Y/N) even more. God, they were still bleeding. 

   “Bucky-” Nat stoops beside him, giving him a sad smile. “(Y/N) would want you to go on, you know they would,” And Nat wasn’t lying, Bucky knew that (Y/N) would want him to leave, want him to live on. Bucky nods and sniffs, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion and defeat. 

   “C’mon,” Steve murmurs, offering Bucky his hand. “Let’s go Buck,” Bucky looks at (Y/N) one more time, their sopping hair, their closed eyes, they way their skin had been flecked with blood. Softly, Bucky leans down, gently pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s. 

   “Goodbye Doll,” 

14. Valentine // Nurseydex

« {Part 14 of my Valentine’s collection.}

a/n: damn, i just barely missed valientine’s day… so close. oh well. this is the last piece in the series, so thanks for sticking with it for this long! enjoy a cute sick fic for Nursey’s birthday :)

When Nursey opened the door, Dex’s first thought was that he looked awful.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Dex asked. Nursey was still wearing his sweatpants and an off-white sleeveless work-out shirt, which wasn’t altogether unattractive. However, the bags under his eyes were so dark that they almost looked like bruises, and his hair was matted on one side, and his nose was red. He did not look like the kind of guy who was going to be ready to go out on a date in ten minutes.

“I think I’m sick,” Nursey said. His voice was low and raspy.

“No shit,” Dex said. “I’m guessing this means we’re not going out tonight?”

“Sorry,” said Nursey. “I know it’s Valentine’s day, but—”

“And your birthday,” Dex cut in. “It’s Valentine’s day, and your birthday.”

“Yeah…” Nursey said, shoulders slumping. He somehow managed to seem even more dejected, despite already looking like death. “We can meet up tomorrow, if you want.”

“If you’re this sick right now, you’re probably not going to be better tomorrow,” Dex said. “Why don’t we just spend the night in? Is your roommate here?”

“Oh, no. Sam left a few hours ago. He said he had a midterm and didn’t want me getting him sick,” Nursey said, rubbing absently at his temple. “You really don’t want to come in here right now, it’s like, really nasty. A den of pestilence. Tissues everywhere….”

“Oh, please,” Dex said. He shouldered past his boyfriend and stepped into the dorm room.

Keep reading

Huntress-Part 15: Ramsey

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E15 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen 


The boom of the Bunker door followed by the footsteps on the stairs down made you lose your train of thought. Despite your headphones in, you still managed to hear the echo in the halls of the building. You took an earbud out and looked up from your laptop.
The moment your Dad and Uncle walked in the room the smell hit you. You grimaced.

“Hey, kid.” Uncle Dean greeted, heading for the chair opposite you.
“If you sit down I might actually kill you.” You warned, your eyes flickering between the chair and his confused face.
“I’m sorry?” 
“You reek of…I don’t even wanna know. It’s minging, so take a shower and then you can sit down.” You ordered. 

Dad chuckled, “Hello to you too.”
Thankfully, he was at least dressed in what appeared to be clean clothes and had very few traces of monster on him. Whereas Uncle Dean was plastered in blood, flesh and other substances you weren’t going to jump at the chance to find out what they were.

Uncle Dean, still unsure of what to say, gave you a funny look. You smirked, looking back over to your Dad who’d just gotten a notification on his phone. “Found another case.” He declared.
“That was fast.” Uncle Dean huffed. ‘Too fast’ You thought to yourself, but said nothing.

“Yeah I got a series of alga-rhythms to go through a filter of newspapers and-” He stopped, noticing Uncle Dean’s blank face before sighing “The computer told me.”

“Man, monsters and porn. Is there anything they can’t do?”
“I’m sure they’d have how to wash yourself on there. Try wikihow.” You sassed, still very aware of the stench.
“Y/N’s right, you’ve got pieces of ghouls and wraiths stuck on you…I think there’s some siren in your hair.” Dad’s face scrunched up in disgust when Uncle Dean flicked it away from himself.
“I’ve got babywipes in the car-”
You shared a look with your Dad. 

“-I’ll go take a shower.” 

You watched as he ambled down the stairs, finally cleaning himself up. When you looked over at your Dad you can’t help but laugh.
“You know, I think he’s kinda scared of you?” Dad chuckled.
“Hopefully.” You giggled.
“You coming on the Hunt?” He asked, perching on the table.
You glance at the floor for a second “Yeah…why not.”


“So,” Uncle Dean began explaining before him or his brother had properly gotten back into the Impala. “The survivor seems to think she was attacked by an invisible wolf.” 
“Like uh…” You racked your brain “A hellhound?”
“Exactly.” 
“We think so.” Dad butted in, making sure nothing was set in stone.

“So the guy made the deal right?” You asked. You locked your phone and slid it into your pocket, turning your attention fully on the front seats.
“Yep.”
“So why did it attack the girl?” 
“We don’t know…”

You sat back and thought through the information,, mapping out the ideas in your head. “So,” You began, grabbing their attentions “your plan to retrieve any useful information from her is to lie to her?” You tilted your head, hoping the fact that you’d outlined the plan made it seem as bad as it was. Uncle Dean nodded slowly, his face unconvinced.
“It’s better for her, it’ll help her sleep at night.” Dad protested.
You shrugged “No offence…but it wouldn’t for me. People want closure.” 
Thank you! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him!” Uncle Dean agreed, his head turning slightly to face you, but his eyes remaining on the road.
“We’re trying this. End of.” Dad huffed.
“Well…Good luck.” You shook your head with disbelief, watching as you pulled up outside the survivor- Gwen’s place.

By far the worst part about not being able to convincingly disguise yourself as a FBI agent was the waiting around. You were patient, so the actual process itself was bearable, it was the not knowing everything. Every single time your Dad would briefly run through what happened and you’d know full well it wasn’t the half of it.
You threw your head back, staring up at the ceiling of the car. It wasn’t very interesting, but it was a change from the steering wheel. That was when your phone buzzed, saving you from your thoughts. 
You glanced down, watching it move slightly as it vibrated on the empty seat beside you. “MICK”
You sighed. What could he possibly want?

“Yeah?” You mumbled, holding it up to your ear.
“It was good to see you.” He began, making you cringe from his small-talk attempt.
“Mick,” You broke him from his words before he started ranting more nonsense “What do you want?”

“Your Dad,” He began, pausing to see if that had gotten your attention. Annoyingly- it had. “Was asking about your Mum…and Max.”
“…okay?” You decided to bite.
“He seemed to have it in his head that the British Men Of Letters killed em for no good reason.” 
You stayed silent.
“Something tells me you haven’t told your Dad the full story.”
Still, you said nothing.
“Are you trying to make us look bad?” If anything, Mick sounded more offended than angry.
“I’m trying,” You paused “I’m trying to not make Mum look bad…or Max.”
“You won’t.” His voice went surprisingly softer. “Becky went rogue.” 
You twitched a little at the use of “Becky”. 
“I know.” You snapped.
“And Max…well you know that too.” He sighed, perhaps empathising for once.

“Yeah I do. So what’s your point?” You were losing the will to live with how vague people were being.
“If the possibility of working with us again, as part of the American Hunters became more than just a possibility..would you be willing?”

You paused…would you?

You wouldn’t outright say no. But you also wouldn’t be keen on saying yes…What would your Dad think if you suddenly wanted to work with them…what about Uncle Dean? You saw how they reacted to Mary’s alliance with them and that didn’t exactly go swimmingly…

“Y/N…you still there, love?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Yeah I’m here…”
“Well? Would you be up for it?”
“I don’t know…it depends on Dad…and Uncle Dean…I can’t just keep switching sides that’s not fair on anyone.”
“Well, speaking of your Dad-” Mick sounded like he had a lot to say,but you barely had time to take in his words when you noticed your Dad and Uncle exiting the house.
“Gotta go.” You quickly spoke into the microphone before hanging up. Whatever he had to say could wait, there was no way you were getting into another awkward conversation.

They opened the doors to Baby, looking defeated. “How did it go?” You asked, double checking that you’d hung up.
“How do you think?” Uncle Dean raised an eyebrow,
“At least we tried, it could have gone worse.” Your Dad was trying his best to find a silver lining, which was sweet in it’s own strange way.
“So uh…” You looked out of the window, noticing Gwen, the girl who’s survived, by the window of the house “now what?”

If someone had a plan of what to do it wasn’t needed as a cry for help erupted. Sharing a look of worry, the three of you sprang into action. You grabbed your handgun and sprinted after Dad and Uncle Dean.
Gwen’s screams of fright grew louder as you turned the corner, aiming your guns up. You and Uncle Dean took aim and fired in the direction of the growling. A yelp sounded, followed by the nearest window smashing. It must have legged it.

Everyone sat down, it wasn’t awkward necessarily…just a little strange. “Okay…what the hell is going on.” Gwen asked. She had every right to.
You looked between your Dad and Uncle, who spoke up “That was a hell hound.”
“A what?”
“It’s a giant dog hound thing from hell.” 
“I’m um…” She ran a hand through her hair “Guessing you guys aren’t cops.” You could tell she was aiming that one at you.
“No…”Dad shook his head “My name’s Sam, that’s my brother Dean and this is my daughter Y/N. We hunt monsters.”
“So wy did you tell me Marcus got killed by a bear?” Gwen interrogated.
“His idea.” You and Uncle Dean say at the same time, making you smile a little. “’Supposed to make you feel better.”

Dad rolled his eyes, he clearly still thought he was right. Then he adjusted his position to face Gwen, “Hellhounds will only come after people if they’ve sold their soul…have you-?”
“No!”
“Would Marcus have?” You asked, trying to cover all the possibilities. 
“No! Never…”
“Are there any other reasons?” You asked, turning to look at your Dad. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes in thought. 
Gwen wasn’t lying as far as you could tell so you were lost for ideas. “Well we all know one person we could ask.” Uncle Dean said reluctantly.
You realised where he was going with this- Crowley. The King Of Hell.
Marvelous.

He took out his phone and held it to his ear: “Yeah yeah look I get that you’re still upset….It was Gavin’s call…we’ve got a situation…hellhounds! Crowley, one of your mutts is going after people who haven’t made a deal…”
You watched them go back and forth, trying your best to fill in the gaps as you only heard Uncle Dean’s half of the conversation.

The King of Hell himself appeared, both him and your Uncle still with their phones in their hands. He hung up, taking in his surroundings briefly. “You miss me?”

“Not really.” You mumbled, making him frown.

After explaining your case he leant his head back before sighing. “This isn’t a Hellhound this is the Hellhound.”
“Which means?” Dad pressed, leaning forward in his chair.
“After God said let there be light he also made other creatures…inluding Hellhounds. They were too vicious however, so he planned to have them all put down. Until our favourite fallen Angel rescued one. A pregnant bitch names Ramsey.”
“And you can’t control her.” You deducted, noticing his face become slightly more stressed as he went.
“No one can, Mouse. Only Lucifer.” 
You raised an eyebrow at the nickname. Gwen looked shocked “As in the Lucifer?”
“Yeah, but he’s locked in a cage.” Uncle Dean explained briefly, no doubt creating more questions. “Oh…” She tilted her head “Good.”
“So,” Uncle Dean nodded “Why’s this Ramsey after Gwen?”

“You tell me.”

Everyone turned to look at Gwen who sunk in her chair, trying her best to think back with such pressure. “Uhm…Well…I did uh, hit it with an axe when it attacked us.”
You smirked a little, liking the idea of a Hellhound being hit round the face with an axe. 

“Well then. We kill Ramsey or she eats her.” Crowley nodded to Gwen “Fun.”

You shared a look with your Dad, both thinking the same thing no doubt. “We?”
“I have a reputation to keep, Moose. It’s no good people thinking I’m not in control. Besides, that bitches head on my wall would look rather fetching.” 


“Well Hellhounds are invisible…” Uncle Dean began to explain while he took out the correct equipment from the boot “Unless you wear a pair of these” he held up a pair of glasses “made with holy fire. Or unless you’ve sold your soul and one is coming after you.”

“Me and Crowley are gonna go see if we can catch up to this thing. You stay with Sam and you’ll be safe.”
“Okay.” Gwen nodded and got in to the shotgun seat.
“You staying, kiddo?” Uncle Dean asked.
“Yeah why not.” You shrugged, aware you didn’t have any glasses. But hey, what could possibly go wrong, right?

“Take care of her.” 
“Of course, Dean. Look, even if Ramsey manages to-”
“You’re talking about the car aren’t you?” You broke the conversation.
“Of course you are.” Dad shook his head.
“Just imagine she’s uh, a beautiful woman.”
“Oh God.”
“A beautiful, beautiful woman.”
“Stop.”


“Shut up.” Uncle Dean was beginning to lose his temper at Crowley, who repeated what he said in a deep American accent: “Shut up.”
“I mean it.”
“I mean it.”

“Oi!” You scare the pair of them into silence “Shut it.”

“Yes, Mother.” Crowley joked.
“Do I look like a Scottish redhead to you?” You snapped, making him smirk slightly.
“Who knew you’d be hunting with us, huh Crowley?” Uncle Dean asked, enjoying how superior he felt.
“I’m maintaining my reputation.”
“You even saved Cas.” Uncle Dean pointed out.
“Only to stop the three of you moping about like old school girls.”

“Maybe we’ve rubbed off on you.” 

“Or perhaps I’ve rubbed off on you.”

“Hold on, this way.” Uncle Dean gestured for you to follow.

You held a torch up, becoming aware of your blade in your back pocket. Just in case you needed it. You follow on, watching the torch light expose the sawdust as it floated about innocently. The beam followed a trail of tracks and dried blood until falling upon a body. The corpse was a few days old, he had rivers of dried blood branching into streams as they traced his bones. His skin and clothes were ripped to shreds where the claws and teeth had attacked him.
You grimaced “So she dragged him back to her…” You tried to think of the right word “den?”
“Looks like it. But she’s not here now.”
“Maybe she’s gone for more…food? Do Hellhounds even eat…” You trailed off, glancing around as though it would help you decide what to do next.


Staring down in horror at his car, Uncle Dean threw his hands up in the air with frustration “This is why you don’t drive!”
You rolled your eyes.
“So…it’s over?” Gwen seemed uncertain. She’d been through a lot.
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. To everyone’s surprise and to Crowley’s disgust she hugged him tightly. You stifled a laugh at his face, watching him try not to squirm in her arms.

“Must be going.” Crowley cleared his throat when she let go.

“Crowley, wait a second!” Dad put his hand up, stopping Crowley in his tracks.
“Thank you.”


You follow your family down the steps of the Bunker, your backpack feeling more heavier now than it wasn’t before. Still, you didn’t say anything. Dean picked up his buzzing phone “Cas, what’s up?”
“I’ve got a lead on Kelly. She’s with Daegon, Prince Of Hell.”
“What do we know about him?”
“Actually it’s a her. And not much…only rumours and whispers.”
“Okay well let us know if you find anything.”
“Of course.”

You slid your backpack off your shoulders and put it on the floor, stretching slightly and sighing. Dad’s phone then went.
“Your computer talking to you again?” Uncle Dean chuckled. Smiling a little at the comment, you were more concerned about Dad’s expression.
“No it’s uh…Mick Davis.”
Immediately you looked up. Why would he be calling your Dad? Was it the same reason he called you? Was he just feeding lies to the pair of you?

“Listen, Dean…Y/N…I don’t have some computer programme feeding me cases. Every job for the last 2 weeks have all come from the British Men Of Letters.”

You didn’t know what to say. Is that why Mick had called you? Was he planning on telling you about this? Does this mean your Dad would be okay with everyone working together…would you be okay with that?

“Dean, I know you hate them and Y/N I know you’ve got a past with them-”

“No, Sammy. We hate them.”

“They’re saving people!”

“They killed your daughter!” Uncle Dean shouted, reminding you more than your Dad.

“Well…Mick said they had a very good reason…Y/N I knpw you find it hard to talk about but-”
“They did have a good reason. It just wasn’t their place to do it. So stop talking about it.” You warned, glaring at the pair of them. You didn’t care what they thought, you were too angry having to constantly be reminded about your sister, let alone your Mum.

“I shouldn’t have lied…I’m sorry.” Dad calmed down, his voice back to a more softer tone.
“Okay.” Uncle Dean nodded.
“Okay?” Dad echoed.
“Do I like it? No. Do I trust them? Hell no. But we work with people we don’t trust all the time. So I’ll bite, but the second something feels off. We bail.”
“Of course.” Dad nods.

Two heads turn to face you, both expecting you to provide some sort of input no doubt. You didn’t know how to feel. You were obviously upset that your own Father had lied to you…but hadn’t you lied to him? You weren’t sure whether or not to mention those voice mails…

You shrugged “Your call. I feel like Mary already knows more about them than I ever did so I’m not as useful as you probably think I am. Just well trained. They don’t tell you anything and yet they manage to teach you everything.”

“So you’re okay with this?” Your Dad asked, his eyebrows knitted together between his worried eyes.

“I guess I have to be.”
“Are you, though?” He pressed.

Dad’s phone went again, he reached into his pocket and looked down at the screen. “It’s Mick.”

Uncle Dean composed himself. He nodded slowly, still trying to come to terms with how his brother had been lying to him “Well?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing at you for a second “Aren’t you going to pick it up?”


Part 16: Wayward Daughters

Masterlist

I do not own these gifs

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Tbh this series is getting less and less likes with every post so I might just round it off to an end at some point if that’s what you guys want.

Keep reading

Hang in There

Sam Winchester x Reader

2400 Words

Summary: During a hunt the Reader makes a mistake, getting Sam hurt. When a frustrated Dean confronts her, she runs, leaving behind a hunting life. Weeks later, a familiar face shows up, reminding her of the life she left behind.

This is written for @impalaimagining and her Sam Winchester Birthday Challenge. My prompt was #25   I’m sorry I haven’t hung up the ‘hang in there’ kitty poster yet. Thanks for letting me join, and I hope you like my story!!

Warnings: Little angst, little fluff, Dean not being the nicest. 

“Damn it Y/N!” Dean yelled as he slammed the door to the Impala, making you all wince. He had to be pissed if he treated his precious car that bad. Knowing what he had to say to you would be nothing but negative and hurtful, you pulled your bag out of the car, rushing from the garage and into your room, leaving him to haul his hurt brother out of the Impala. Feeling guilty for not staying and helping, for making sure Sam would be alright. But you couldn’t handle Dean’s contempt for you, his barely contained fury at the fact that you had accidentally gotten his brother hurt.

You hadn’t meant to get Sam hurt. The hunt had been harder than any of you had expected, and the three of you were stretched beyond thin. The three of you had spread out throughout the house, looking for the werewolves. You had taken the basement, getting overtaken too easily. With at least six werewolves you had thought you would be their prey when Sam had shown up, taking two down before the standoff had happened. With your neck in their werewolves claws, Sam had made the decision to spare your life for his, a fact that would haunt you for a long time. As they rounded on him, you had been thrown off to the side, your head banging against the wall. From there you had watched as they sliced their claws across Sam, never biting him, but doing enough damage that he was bleeding heavily from multiple spots.

Keep reading

Pranks

Pairings: Tony x f!Reader

Request: Can you make a readerxtony, they are dating and they prank people? :D


Thor has created a chatroom.

Thor has invited Clint, Sam, Pietro.

Thor: Confess now, pranksters! Which one of you – I can’t even bare to speak of the villainous act!

Thor: We are brethren! I did not expect this from any of you. How could you do this to me? Monsters!

Sam: … Chill.

Pietro: As much as I would love to take credit for whatever happened, I can’t.

Thor: That leaves you, Barton!

Clint: Wait, you can’t just assume I did whatever it is!

Clint: Which is what, by the way?

Thor: You know full well what! You will pay for this.

Pietro: R.I.P in peace, old man.

Clint: It’s R.I.P or just rest in peace!

Pietro: I said that?

Sam: Oh my god.

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Familiar Taste of Poison

Summary: it had been five years, Cain never expected to see you again alive or dead but here you stood. will he be able to resist his urges of will it all be too much for the father of murder?

Pairing: Cain X Reader

Warnings: Angst! Dub/Con! Smut! Fluff!

Exclaimer: Dubious consent! Do not read if triggering! Based on “Familiar taste of poison” by Halestorm! Requested by @mikki-hear

Now you had gotten yourself into a fair few situations that would render most people dead, and this time was no exception. You decided to take on a nest of vampires, it seemed like easy work. It was small and you caught them off guard…or so you thought. The main nest was less than two towns over, once they had heard that their minor nest had been destroyed they made it their mission to track you down and kill you how you killed them…death by fire.

You had, had two close brushes with them now, each time leaving you more injured and more vulnerable. It was time to ask for help again. So here you were standing in front of Sam and Dean Winchester, accompanied by their pet angel Castiel.

“The only thing I can think of is to send you away (y/n).” You nodded; you didn’t smile even though in your mind nothing sounded better than a break from the hunter’s life, even if it was just for a weekend.

“So, we’ll send you to Cain, he’ll be able to take care of you while we deal with your problem.” You were quickly pulled violently from your own thoughts at the mention of the name Cain. Your eyes grew wide as your stared at the Winchester men in disbelief.

“Actually it doesn’t matter; I’ll deal with it myself.” The last thing you wanted to do was spend an extended weekend with the former knight to hell. Dean and Sam looked at each other before looking to you.

“(Y/n) you came to us for help, we offer you somewhere safe to wait it out & you say ‘it doesn’t matter’?” You fidgeted on the spot. The boys didn’t know your past with the former knight of hell, & you hoped to god that you would never have to face your past or that man ever again.

“Fine…but I don’t want him anywhere near me.” Sam and dean looked at each other and shrugged, not even thinking for a second that the reason you were against staying with the former knight of hell was because the two of you had already met, and left on rather terse terms.

Cain was sat in his living room, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair harshly at the mention of your name. After all these years he had thought you had left the country or even worse died. He didn’t believe that you would stay, and yet you were so close he could already smell that deep dusty rose scented perfume you used to wear around him.

He growled, his nails ripping through the arms of the chair causing the filling to fall out onto the hardwood floor. He stood up violently, Dean and Sam Winchester had told him to be there in an hour, barely half an hour had past and he was already too eager to he what had become of the woman who had been able to escape him.

Before a human blink of an eye, he was stood in the men of letter bunker, his long grey hair pulled back into a bun, as he wore a plain white cotton shirt & dark blue jeans. Sam and Dean stood up at the former knight of Hell’s arrival, as soon as they recognised it was Cain, both of them visibly relaxed.

“(Y/N) is in the library I’ll go and get her.” Cain watched the tallest of the Winchester brothers, Sam walk away towards the woman he so eagerly awaited. As soon as Sam removed himself from the room, Cain’s attention was suddenly brought back to the eldest Winchester.

“I don’t know what (Y/N)’s got against you, but pretty much she wants you to stay away from her, I think it might be the whole Knight of hell thing, so…yeah, don’t get on her bad side.” Cain pursed his lips in a tight line trying to hide the bared teeth he wished to show. He knew the reason why she didn’t want him near her. Cain gave a stiff nod as he began to hear approaching footsteps and hushed voices.

“Sam can’t I just stay here?” your worried voice automatically caught Cain attention as you rounded the corner into the war room. You took in a sharp breath as you saw him. The former knight of hell, from what you could see the only thing that had changed about him was his hair; instead of being cut short it was long. Suddenly images of your fingers running through his long grey hair filled your head, you bit your lip from suddenly moaning, as your mind filled with images of the life you once held with the demon before you.

“(Y/N), Cain’s agreed to protect you while we dispose of the vamps, he has also agreed to stay away from you.” Both you and Cain looked at Dean with wide eyes as he said this. Cain had agreed to protect you, but staying away from you, that was an impossible task. He could already feel himself leaning towards you, there was an animalistic magnetism between the two of you that neither of your could deny, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked from Dean to Cain to see his jaw set on edge as he pulled his piercing steel like gaze away from the eldest Winchester, Cain had obviously not agreed to stay away from you, and with that, your heart hammered in your chest in fear and anticipation. Cain slowly turned his head and looked across the room at you, and you froze. This was the first time in over five years you had looked into this man’s eyes, you could see that something had changed, there was a darkness there that had been absent for years previously. It made your heart suddenly stutter, you had hoped there would be a shred of the man you had left behind in those eyes, but you saw nothing of him.

“Thank you, Dean and Sam, just call me and I’ll be back out there.” Both of the boys nodded with a small smile on their lips. Cain watched as Sam kept a hand on the small of your back as he held you over to him. Cain tried to take the gesture lightly but felt the red hot burn of jealousy in his gut. Cain gave a taut nodded to Sam Winchester and then to Dean Winchester before placing a hand on your shoulder.

You froze, debating whether you should pull away and run. Could you survive a weekend alone with him? And what would you be after it? Before you could even give the boys a panicked look, the world shifted around you. You lurched forward, landing on the cold hardwood floor on your hand and knees. You hadn’t had much experience in teleportation making your stomach knotted violently, as you desperately tried to breathe.

“Thanks…for …the warning.” You panted out as your (Y/H/C) hair created a curtain around your face. You heard the floor boards creek around you till Cain’s brown oxford covered feet where the only thing you could see before you. You slowly moved back to sit on your feet to stare up at the imposing figure before you.

“Like Dean Winchester said…I…unwillingly at best, agreed to leave you alone. If you need me I will be in the garden or log shed. There is food and drink in the fridge if you find yourself hungry.” Cain tried to sound as passive as possible as he looked down at you. He had seen you in that very position so many times, for many other reasons, and most of that reason included you lacking clothing. He desperately tried to shake those memories from his mind as he looked away from you.

Before you could utter a thank you, or even a noise of acknowledgement he turned on his heel and straight out of the door into the lush green garden surrounding the cabin. You let out a long breath as you slowly stood up on shaky legs. Cain had surprised you in being so passive, after the way you left thing you were surprised how calm he was.

Five years ago…

“I can’t live thinking what if, Cain!” you stood there as Cain threw a china teapot across the room, it landed against the wall behind you sprinkling the hardwood floor with a fine powder at the force of the impact. You stood there unflinching as he stalked towards me, his hands running through his hair gripping it by the root as he stared at you.

“We were meant to be (Y/N), we found each other and now you want to throw that all away, on what!? Just in case that I’m not the one for you?! Just in case that this animalistic and natural draw to each other means nothing at all?!” his tall muscle bound figure loomed over you, his eyes glazed over in rage as he looked down at you.

All these years you had never seen him like this, He had understood your reluctance, to be with him to being with, he was a knight of hell, the first demon and you were a hunter, and yet he waited for you. Soon you realised that you could not deny the draw you had to the father of murder. But you couldn’t help the feeling that you belonged to a man, a normal mortal man.

“What if that is all this is Cain!? What if it’s just lust!? I have never heard you say I love you back, and I deserve that! Or at least hear it once!” Cain took a step back, he could remember every time you had said, that you loved him, he could remember when you screamed it in the throes of ecstasy, or when you quietly murmured it before falling asleep from exhaustion.

“leave.” That all you heard him say, as he continued to take steps away from you. You looked at him with wide eyes, you expected him to finally say it to say those three all-important words, but no instead he was turning his back on you, on the relationship he was so viciously fighting for.

“Fine.” You wanted your voice to sound stronger, but instead, it came out defeated and lacklustre. You grabbed your army duffle bag, as Cain kept his hunched back to you. You felt a sob choke you but you kept it down, you would rather suffocate that let him see you broken.

You pushed out of the wood cabin door letting it slam against the cabin wall, as your leather boots crunched against the gravel path leading towards the edge of Cain’s property where you bike had sat beneath a cover for the past few months. You breathed in and out through your nose making sure that Cain wouldn’t hear your painful sobbing as you threw away the bike cover and straddled the worn leather seat.

You started the engine with no problem, as you stood there staring at the house that had become your home for the past few years, only to see it as some empty and broken piece of yourself and the knight of hell you thought loved you.

Present day…

The axe hammered down of each log of wood effortlessly slicing it in two. He needed something to take his frustration, his rage out on. As he heard your quiet footsteps move throughout the cabin, he heard the door to your old room slowly open, as you walked inside. He watched from outside through your bedroom window as you walked around the room.

You wanted to say nothing had changed but the bed sheets were crumpled and ruffled in fits of rough sleep. You gingerly sat down on the edge of your old bed; the bed sheet smelled like him, they smelled like damp earth and morning dew. He didn’t smell like sulphur, he smelled like the world before man slowly began to destroy it.

You looked at your bedside table and saw a picture of the two of you, a Polaroid you took one day. It had a warm red tint to it as you took if from the porch as you and Cain watched the sun set. Your lips were pressed against his cheek and his chiselled lips held a pleasant smile you had missed all these years. When the picture was taken, you would have said there was nothing but love in his eyes, but now you knew that wasn’t true. It was an illusion, a way to make you stay. You sighed and placed the photo frame down.

You slowly lied back on the bed, your (Y/H/C) hair fanning out around you. The smell of Cain and your conditioner filled your senses. You let out a small moan, you couldn’t help it that smell brought back so many memories for you. You couldn’t help arching against the bed as you closed your eyes.

Cain forced his eyes closed and sighed out heavily. He could hear you, he could hear the quiet moans you made as you rutted against your old bed sheets he had occupied for years, he couldn’t bring himself to wash them, but as the years went by the smell of you faded and was replaced purely by him.

Cain slammed the axe into the ground before running his hands through his hair. Cain growled as he heard you pant and arch against the bed covered. Before he could even think of his actions he was inside the room looming over you, he watched silently as you lay there you flannel shirt dragged up your body.

Cain couldn’t help his own actions as he heard your heavy panting beneath him. He lunged forward pinned your arching body to the body, pressing yourself tightly against him. Your eyes shot open in shock as you looked up to see Cain, all storm grey eyes and barred teeth as his large rough hand wrapped around your wrists.

“Get off me, Cain.” You spoke through clenched teeth as you felt his muscular broad-shouldered body press into yours. You tried to sound convincing, you needed to stay strong; you couldn’t end up back here for the rest of your life. You couldn’t lie here with him at peace with the idea that a Knight of hell was the man you were made for.

Cain just looked down at you. His eyes searched yours to see nothing but resistance. He knew you still felt something for him, even though he was the one who let you go so easily. He moved his face closer to yours only making your push your own head deeper into the bed till your neck was straining. You turned your face away; your breathing was laboured as you began to panic.

It had been so long since he had been this close to you. He smelled like the earth, old and tainted, there was something refreshing and dark. Your body practically hummed in pleasure at being this close to him, you pressed your legs together hoping to hide your betraying arousal from the knight of hell as he pinned you. You choked on your breaths sobbing almost as your closed your eyes.

Cain watched as you became torn between what your mind wanted and your body needed. He could smell your thick heady arousal, as your body almost begged him to take you even though his watched your panic stricken feature scream stop. He could have been a gentleman and back away, but that last time he didn’t that he lost you for five whole years, and he wasn’t about to let that happen again.

You let out a broken sob as you felt Cain’s lips skim across the barred side of your neck. His teeth grazing the taut skin that lay there. You screwed your eye closed hoping to bloke out the torturous feeling of his tongue travelling across the marks he had just made on your skin. Cain happily sighed against your soft skin as he lapped at it. Your skin tasted of sweat and something uniquely you, Cain skimmed his teeth over the taut tendon pressed against the skin of your neck making you arch and sob again, Cain felt your tug at his restraining hands, only making him move both of your small wrists into one large hand.

“Cain.” You gasped his name in a feeble attempt for him to listen to you as his now free hand slowly slide down the side of your neck making your shiver, and it travelled across your chest. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh of your breast that ay beneath your bra. You gasped and sobbed and Cain continued to feel you. You gasped as if you were begging for oxygen, your nails scraped across Cain’s worn fingers as he held you helpless.

Cain Slowly moved his hand to the centre of your chest, his fingers pulled at your flannel scattering buttons across the room you gasped as the cold air hit your body only for that coldness to be replaced my Cain’s hot breath as he grasped the centre of your T-shirt bra and brutal pulled ripping the fabric from your body.

“Cain wait.” You begged the demon before you as his warm rough hand ghosted across your breasts causing the nipples to peak in arousal. Cain’s hand flexed around your wrists, his mind fantasised about your running your hands through his hair pulling at it as he slowly pleasured you, but he knew you would push him away any chance you got.

“Cain.” Your voice became more demanding as he pressed his cheek against your chest and sighed heavily. This wasn’t just because he wanted you, you could feel it. You felt his painful heart beat against your stomach and his hard erection pressed against your thigh. Cain didn’t look up at you, he just slowly moved his cheek off your chest and with a strong stroke of his tongue made you whimper like all those years ago.

His tongue and teeth worked in tandem to tease, and soothe your nipples as he mercilessly played your body like a fiddle, pulling high pitched whines and exasperated gasps from your mouth. You pulled against his restraining hands, you wanted to touch him to show him you wanted it but he was adamant. His supernatural strength kept you pinned to the bed as he moved a knee between your legs pushing the apart. His fingers found the copper button holding together the jeans and quickly pulled it through the button loop allowing enough slack for him to pull the fabric down your legs.

“Cain please, let me touch you.” Cain heard you beg to touch him, you finally looked up at you and saw the thin tear tracks from eth corner of your eyes, the swollen lips, the wide pupil threatening to consume your whole gaze, he watched as you licked your bottom lip before dragging your teeth across. You knew how to play him like a finely tuned instrument. He knew this could all be a well-manufactured plan to make him let you go.

“I can’t (Y/N).” Cain’s voice was strained and broken as his grip increased on your wrists. You stomach tightened as you looked down at the knight of hell as his fingers hooked the edge of your lace panties and quickly tugged them down your legs. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to feel you, after all, these years, he had only just realised how much he needed you.

Cain couldn’t bring himself to look up at you keeping his broken features hidden behind a curtain of grey hair as his hand tore at his own clothing leaving them in tattered rags on the floor before lining himself up with you. How he wished to have you willingly, how he wished that he could have you any other way but this. He took in a deep breath and spoke just as he thrust, sheathing himself in you completely.

“I love you (Y/N).” You screamed as he stretched you. You arched as your body shook, Cain was the only man could make you feel like this, make you feel so complete, no matter how many times you tried there was no other man like Cain. Cain’s spine arched upwards he leant over your body, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he slowly withdrew himself from you, to sharply thrust back into you. You moaned and sobbed as he hit that wonderful spot deep within your body no other man could reach. You buried your face in Cain long grey hair as he violently thrust into you as if this was the last time he would ever feel you like this.

Cain grunted and moaned against the skin of your neck, his teeth biting and tongue soothing as your teeth raked across his shoulder. Cain arched into you at the beautiful pain making him loose his grip on your wrists. Cain felt your move your hands and before he could restrain you again, he felt your wrap your arms around his neck, as you pushed your hands into his long grey hair, tugging it as your nails dug into his scalp.

Cain’s now free hand cupped your cheek as he finally looked at you with his steel grey eyes. His thrusts became less rushed and violent, the slowed but were no less powerful as he hit your G-spot with determined accuracy. He gasped and moaned and his other hand travelled across your body making you shiver with its gentle touches.

You arched up pressing yourself against the father of murder; Cain’s lips worshipped your skin, as he felt you grow tighter around him. He knew you were close he could hear the ecstasy-driven prayers flow from your lips, the begging for release, the pleas and the blasphemy, like a pray just for him. Cain slowly brought his lips to yours. His lip only just brushing yours, he needed you to kiss him; he needed to know what you needed him just as much as he needed you.

Your grasp tightened on Cian long grey hair as you pulled his lips down yours. He moaned against your lips as his tongue teased your bottom lip begging entrance with you gladly granted him. You moaned at the taste of him, it was clean and all too natural. You angled your lips against him deepening the kiss as Cain thrusts became erratic. You painfully pressed your lips to his, you both chased your orgasms, hoping to finish together rather than further apart.

Cain pressed his forehead against your and looked down into your ecstasy glazed (Y/E/C) eyes as he continued to violently thrust into you. Cain ghosted his chapped lips over yours before speaking those words he neglected for so long.

“I love you (Y/N).” you could see all the sincerity in the world as you looked up into his eyes, Cain wasn’t a man to mince words, or waste them, meaning that he knew what he was saying and why he was saying it. You pulled his face down into the crook of your neck and raised your hips from the bed allowing Cain to fuck you more deeply pushing you to the very edge, to where you were holding on my a single finger nail.

“I love you too Cain.” Your voice was a whimper, as you tightened painfully around him pulling you both over the edge into ecstasy. Cain continued to thrust into you as you slowly pulled your nails from his scalp and your teeth from his shoulder. You felt a few unshed tears fall from the corners of your eyes as you lay there beneath the former Knight of hell. His hands smoothed over your curves and hair trying to comfort you in some way, as you both lay there, your fingers drew patterns lazily across his back and shoulders and Cain sighed heavily against your neck.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N).” Cain couldn’t help feeling guilty for his initial actions, he knew you needed him as well, but he couldn’t help thinking there was definitely more of an organic way for you to show your feeling for him again besides pinning you to your own bed till you unwillingly admitted them. But he also felt guilt for all those years ago, for not saying those words, for not saying them so many times.

“I know Cain.” Cain slowly lifted his head from the curve of your neck and looked down at you. He leant down and placed a gentle kiss on your swollen lips. Cain slowly moved rolling onto his back and pulling you along with him to allow you to rest on his broad chest.

You both gave a heavy sigh as the only thing that hung between you was a comfortable silence. You felt like this could easily turn into an extended vacation, as you pressed your lips to Cain’s chest causing him to hum appreciatively before pulling you tighter against him allowing him to wrap both of his long across around you as he shifted onto his side. He smiled against his warm chest as you closed your eyes.

“I love you Cain.”

“I love you, too (Y/N).”

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