Bucky sat at his oak desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in deeply. Ever since that run in with that…with that slum kid Bucky hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of them. Their rosy cheeks and bright eyes kept perforating his thoughts, making it impossible to think about much else. He had business deals to think off, he had other gangs to think about, he had to worry about some prick in England talking shit about him, he didn’t have time to focus on that low life nobody. With a sigh Bucky tossed his cigar into an ash tray, running his hands down his scruffy face. It was nearly half an hour later when A quiet knock on his study door is what finally broke him
Out of his stupor.
"Yeah?“ Bucky’s voice was hoarse, much more than usual. The tall oak doors swung open to reveal Dot, Bucky’s saving grace, wearing nothing but a silk robe he had bought them for valentines day.
"Hello there dot,” Bucky smirks as Dot waltz in, swaying her hips as she made her way to Bucky’s heavy desk.
"Hiya Mr. Barnes,“ she smirks as she stops before him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair. "I’ve been missin’ ya today,” Bucky hums as he leans forward, almost touching his lips against hers.
“Have you now?” Dot nods, her lips parting in a sultry fashion as she does.
"You’re favorite girl is feeling a bit neglected,“
"Oh, we can’t have that,” Bucky smirks as he grabs Dot’s ass, bringing her down onto his lap. “Now can we?” Dot gasps at the contact, shifting a bit, rubbing herself against Bucky’s leg enticingly.
"Sit back and let Mr. Barnes take care of ya, eh?“
(Y/N) bit their lip as they eyed all the couples dancing, trying so desperately to keep their mind off of their run in a few days prior. They had just run into one of the most dangerous thugs in all of America, the man had everyone in his pocket, he could get away with murder and no one would bat an eye and yet (Y/N) ran into him and here they were, able to tell the tale.
With a shaky sigh (Y/N) reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, even though it wasn’t necessary. Honestly (Y/N) was trying their best to keep busy, even the most mundane tasks would help focus (Y/N)’s mind on things other than the dark haired, mysterious thug.
"Hey sweetcheeks,” a rather harsh, almost smoker like voice drawls in (Y/N)’s ear, sending shivers down their spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you here all alone, how bout you get up and dance with me.” His words were poised as a question but his tone hinted otherwise. (Y/N) gulps, steeling themself against the strange man.
“I’m sorry sir but I really don’t feel like-"
"It wasn’t a Question sweetheart,” he grips (Y/N)’s arm painfully tight, leaving them to whimper in pain. “Now get up or I’ll make you get up,” it was either go willingly or against their own will and (Y/N) most definitely wasn’t all too thrilled about the second idea. So with shaking legs and a trembling lip (Y/N) stood from their spot, following the sketchy looking man out to the dance floor. His strong hands settle on their waist as he yanks them close, their hips pushed flush against his.
“What’s your name kid?” (Y/N) trembles on the spot as they reluctantly dance with the man, praying that someone would notice how uncomfortable they were and come out a stop to it. But no one did, they all kept their gazes elsewhere, completely ignoring (Y/N) and the man. “I asked you a question kid,” The man growls dangerously, gripping (Y/N)’s hips enough to leave bruises.
“I-I’m (Y/N),” they stutter, fear getting the better of their voice. The man hums, a sick smile overtaking his features.
"Such a pretty name…you wanna know my name kid?“
"N-no,” (Y/N) manages a bit of sass, almost proud of themself for being able to have such attitude towards such a man. “Not really,”
“It’s Brock fucking Rumlow,” He leans in, biting down on their earlobe slightly, sending the poor kid shuddering in fear.
Brock Rumlow- one of the most notorious gangs in all of Brooklyn, perhaps in the entire state.
Two mobsters in the course of a week? It seemed nearly implausible and yet here (Y/N) was, still reeling from their run in with Bucky and now their contact with Brock.
“No sassy remarks anymore, eh?”
“Get off of me,” (Y/N) mutters, pushing at his chest weakly. Their lungs were still trying to recover from the harsh weather, leaving them feeling much weaker than the usually were.
“Aww, aren’t’chu you a cutie?” He purrs, his sickening smile never once leaving his lips. “I ought to wrap you up and take you home with me….” Brock growls as he licks his lips, his cold gaze running up and down (Y/N)’s form. “Oh sweetheart, the things I’d do to you,”
“I’m going to start screaming,” (Y/N) whispers, grunting against his hold. Their squirming comes to an abrupt stop when the feeling of something cool presses into their neck.
“Scream and I’ll slit your throat,” Brock sneers, his tone smug as he digs the point of his blade into their neck. (Y/N) whimpers softly, closing their eyes as something warm trickles down their neck, most likely leaving behind a trail of scarlet liquid.
“What do you want?” (Y/N) tries to sound stronger than they are but it was futile, Brock could see right through them.
“I just want a little fun dollface, take you back to my place, rough ya up a bit,” Brock purrs as he leans in once again, licking up the small rivulets of blood that had cascaded down (Y/N)’s neck. “Then I’m gonna send you back on your way and we’re gonna act like nothin’ happened, sound good?” (Y/N) whimpered, trying to shy away from Brock’s invading tongue to no avail, the blade kept them still, nipping at their skin in a way that had them wanting to puke. “Now, I’m gonna escort you out of here all nice and slow and you’re not gonna make a sound, got it? If you do,” Brock chuckles as she stashes his knife away. “I’m gonna make that much more painful for ya, sweetheart,”
Brock’s grips on (Y/N)’s arm was painfully tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises in their skin. He dragged them down the streets of Brooklyn, towards the nicer area of town, to where all the rich snobs lived. No one here would care that (Y/N) was being manhandled by Brock, hell, no one in the slums even cared as they watched the tall, burly man guide the smaller human being along. Tears burned at (Y/N)’s eyes but they refused to let them fall, they had to keep some shred of dignity with this man and letting him see them cry would be the last straw.
“No tears huh?” Brock chuckled as he turned a corner, harshly jerking (Y/N) along with him, resulting in a few pops from their elbow. “Most of the time people are sobbing by now, begging me not to hurt them but you-” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he makes his way towards one of the nicer streets. “You’re different, maybe I really should keep ya, you seem like a firecracker,”
“Burn in hell,” (Y/N) growls, as they struggle a bit, pulling backwards as Brock moved forwards. Why the suddenly had fight in them now only god knows but it was there, a kindling flame of hatred and fear and dammit (Y/N) was going to use it.
“I suggest you stop struggling sweetheart,” Brock growls as he yanks them forward, nearly tripping them in the process. “I’m not opposed to slaughtering you right here and leaving your body to the dogs,”
“Let go of me!” (Y/N) yells, struggling to get away. They twisted and flailed, clawed and kicked, anything to get this man off of them but Brock was strong and he held on tightly, causing much discomfort on (Y/N)’s part. “Get off of me!” (Y/N) screamed helplessly, hoping that anyone would come to their rescue. Little did they know that just up the street there stood a man dressed to the nines, a Brazilian imported cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Get off of me!’ a voice screamed down the street. Bucky looked up from his suit, a small smirk rising to his lips at their person’s frantic cry. Sounded like someone was going to get lucky tonight, maybe if he caught them in time he’d be able to join in too. Bucky chuckled as he huffed on his cigar, reveling in the high it gave him. His pristine shoes clicked down the street, creating a soft clacking against the somewhat nice pavement. It was the only other sound in the air other than the person’s screams and to be a bit morbid he was enjoying them. Call Bucky a sadist but god- that noise was like music to his ears.
“What the fuck did I tell you was gonna happen if you struggled, huh?” A voice growled as Bucky got closer. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion; that voice sounded so familiar, he could’ve sworn that he had only heard it a few days ago- Bucky comes to an abrupt stop before the source of noise, his eyes quickly taking in the rather shocking scene. It was the kid from a few days ago, the shabby, slum kid, struggling against the grasp of some tall, wide man…
“Brock Rumlow,” Bucky growls, a small smirk rising to his lips. “How strange to see you here,” Brock stops fighting the kid immediately, his entire body going rigid at Bucky’s voice.
“Barnes,” Brock smiles sickeningly, that same smile that had been twisting (Y/N)’s stomach for the last half an hour. “Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky smirks as he flicks his cigar to the ground, allowing it to burn out and die slowly.
“Who’s the kid?” Bucky gestures to (Y/N) with a simple quirk of his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“Just a lil’ something I picked up earlier,” Bucky looks at (Y/N), his harsh gaze raking over their trembling form. He regarded them with a look of prejudice, sneering down at them with an upturned nose. He hoped his look was enough to convince Brock that he had no care for this (Y/N) creature when in reality the look of fear on their face had stirred something deep within him.
“How much do you want for ‘em?” Bucky asks coolly, as though he wasn’t bargaining this persons life right before them.
“Sorry Barnes but you’re out of luck, this one’s a keeper,”
“I don’t think you understood me,” Bucky chuckles darkly as he reaches in his suit, retrieving a small albeit dangerous handgun. “How much do you want for ‘em?” He points the end of the barrel at Brock’s stomach, inconspicuous enough that if anyone walked by they wouldn’t think anything of it.
“Fuck you Barnes,” Brock growls as he shoves (Y/N) towards the brunette. Bucky was quick to steady (Y/N), incidentally pulling them to his chest. “I’ll get them back,” Brock chuckles darkly as he saunters off, shaking his head as he does. “Just you wait and see,” Bucky keeps his ground as Brock saunters off, keeping (Y/N) against his chest protectively but as soon as the other mobster was out of sight Bucky broke, his facade crumbling to the ground.
“You alright kid?” Bucky asks as he inspects (Y/N), checking them for any wounds of any sort.
“Why do you care?” (Y/N) grumbles as the bat his prying hands away, being mindful not to expose their bleeding neck to him. Bucky immediately retracts his hands, as though (Y/N)’s words had burned him.
“Really?” Bucky chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just spared your fucking life kid and now you’re gonna give me sass? I could’ve let that bastard rape and kill ya but instead I saved ya and this is the thanks I get?” (Y/N) huffs as they brush their outfit off, as though trying to get rid of any remnant of Brock.
“I didn’t ask for help-” (Y/N)’s sentence cuts short when Bucky grips their chin, forcing them to look into his eyes.
“I own this town sweetheart, I own half the country, with a snap of my fingers I could have you beaten to a bloody pulp and left at my doorstep if I so desired,” (Y/N) glares up at Bucky indignantly, flaring their nostrils angrily. “So I suggest you stay on my good side, got it?” Bucky gave them a little cheeky grin as he stepped back, wiping some ‘dust’ off their chin before turning on his heels to saunter back home, his energy for the night gone. He knew (Y/N) was glaring at his back so he turned his head, giving them a little smirk as he pulled out a new cigar, placing it between his fingers as he spoke to them. “I’ll be seeing you real soon (Y/N),” And with that the mobster turned away, lighting his cigar as he walked back home, whistling a chirpy tune.
Dean was hurt during a hunt (minor injuries) and reader takes care of him as always.
“It hurts” Dean moved in his seat away from the girl’s hand,she looked at him annoyed, he always did the same, he always got away from her when she tried to stich him up and cure him.
“C’mon Dean you’ve had worse.You are such a baby sometimes, just come here,i’ll finish soon and you are free to go” He looked at her hand , it was just cotton with some sanitary alcohol on it, but it burned like hell, he always said the same and Y/N always tought he was exagerating,wich he was,
“But it” she didn’t let him finnish.
“But it burns like hell” she mocked his voice “Yup, what I was just saying, you are a baby.Now Dean,I will keep curing you, you can scream like a girl as much as you want but for God’s shake, don’t move!You won’t die,I promise you that” rolling his eyes he moved back to his place on the bed, letting Y/N do her work. When she approached him, he grabbed her waist pullig her closer and making her sit with the legs on each side of his body. Dean’s actions surprised her but it didn’t stop her from her work.
While she was concentrated on curing him, he was just staring at her, no words coming out of his mouth, he wasn’t even complaining, and that was new. After a few moments she finnished “And that was it, you are ready to go big guy” but he didn’t speak or moved, he just looked at her with a smile on his face. “what’s up with you?Why are you smiling at me?” she frowend her eyebrows, not knowing what was happening.
“What?I cant’t smile when I look at you?”he brought her body closer to his,the space between them barerly existent.
“You can smile at me,you just never do so”
“In that you are wrong” the confusion and curiosity growing on her expression “I always smile at you,but you never notice” now Y/N was smiling as well, not knowing what to say, until one question came to her mind.
“Why?” Dean’s hands started rubbing her back, making her feel safe, making her feel good.
“This is why” his face was now closer to hers, his eyes looking at her lips.Y/N just stood sill, waiting for him to do it, waiting to feel their lips together until it happend.Dean’s soft lips were on her, making the electricity run trough her body. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, palying with the hair at the back of his head.This was better that she ever imagined.They separeted because of the lack of air.
“Because I need you, Y/N.Because I want you in my life, not just to take care of me, when I’m back from a hunt, I want you to be the one to share my ups and downs with,I want you to be the one that I wake up to and fall asleep beside you” for the first time in her life she was speechless, the words just didn’t come out of her mouth.So she kissed him, she kissed him like her life depended on it.
“I’d really like to be in your life, to wake and sleep beside you Dean.”
Summary - Sam’s dislocated his shoulder and can’t wash his hair properly. Reader to the rescue! ;)
Word Count - 1,725
Warnings - Fluff. Literally the mushiest thing I’ve written so far I think?
A/N - Let’s be honest, who hasn’t wanted to get their fingers in Sam’s hair? This was my way of dealing. Let me know what you think!
You couldn’t believe it. Who knew Sam could get so unbelievably grumpy?
Sam was currently groaning and griping about his current predicament, his discomfort made glaringly apparent.
It was a routine salt n burn. He scared the hell out of you when you finally torched the sucker, finding him slumped unconscious against the old oak that stood tall above the graveyard. He had a concussion along with a dislocated shoulder. You had to get Dean to help you pop his shoulder into place, and stayed up a few hours with Sam to make sure the concussion wasn’t severe. Luckily it wasn’t, but he was slightly confused for awhile.
Prompt by Anon: A liam dunbar x reader imagine based of the lyrics from “No light no light” by Florence and the machine???
Word Count: 1,481
Warning: I don’t know what kind of word/warning would be for cheating but yes this involves cheating.
Author’s Note: There is a lot of Liam cheating on the reader with Hayden imagines/fanfics. So for this prompt, I decided to switch things up a bit and in result, I hated writing this because, ugh, this broke my heart!!!!!! Don’t ever cheat!!!
hesitated before getting out of the car. Her fingers played with the keys in
the ignition as her eyes stared at the garage door in front of her. Nerves had
taken over her body and guilt weighted down on her shoulders. She bit her
bottom lip, trying to figure out the million things running through her mind,
and what she should say to her boyfriend, Liam. What she did tonight was by far
the stupidest decision she’d ever made, one she knew Liam would never forgive
her for, but she had to confess what happened before he found out some other
way. He deserved to know the truth and he deserved to hear it from her.
walked to his bedroom window, as he thought he smelled a familiar scent. It was
a bit off but something about it made him want to check out the window and see
what it was, or rather who. He looked down to see the love of his life, sitting
in her car in his driveway. A smile instantly formed on his face as he realized
his girlfriend came to surprise him. He immediately ran down the stairs, out
the front door, and towards the driveway. His stride slowed down the closer he
got to Y/N as he sensed her guilt, her nervousness, and sadness. That wasn’t
the only thing reeking from Y/N, her scent was too, and it was different. It
was her perfume mixed with sweat and another cologne, one that didn’t belong to
A/N: Request from @today-only-happens-once :
Hi hello. I have a one-shot/drabble request… could you do one where the reader has made a demon deal to save Sam, but the fic itself is a conversation/scene with Dean, where the pairing is actually Dean x reader, and the reader sacrificed herself a) because she loves Sam like a brother too and b) to stop Dean from making the sacrifice that she knew he would otherwise? I love your writing and would be so happy if you considered taking this one on. Totally up to you, though. Thanks bunches! ^u^
Hope this is alright! Just a small oneshot! :)
Dean x Reader, Sam
Warnings: crossroads deal, angst
Word Count: 600
“I did it
for you, Dean.” The growling of hell hounds was heard by everyone in the room,
especially by you. Tears welled in your eyes as you knew your time was up, but
you had no regret for what you did that had led to this moment.
You shouldn’t have done such a thing,” Dean yelled, throwing his hands up in
the air in panic as he watched Sam spread the goofer dust all over the room.
With each tick of the clock, Dean could feel his heart hammer against his chest
violently, scared out of his mind for you. He knew the pain, remembered it all
too well when he had made a similar deal to save Sam many years ago. He still
had nightmares sometimes of the ripping off flesh, the spilling of internal
organs and the torture that was hell itself. He remembered the heat and the
pure agony of his soul being shredded and darkened. He couldn’t bare the
thought of the same thing happening to you.
me, Dean. Look at me,” you demanded, grabbing his face between the palm of your
hands, committing to memory the jade green color of his eyes and the plumpness
of his perfect lips. “You need Sam. And I wasn’t going to let you be stupid
enough to sell your soul again, Dean. For once let someone help you - help
been in tears as soon as the Winchesters found out of the deal you made in
order to save Sam. He had died during a sloppy Wendigo hunt exactly 6 months
ago; completely your fault and you didn’t hesitate when reaching a crossroads
and made the deal in 5 minutes flat. The crossroads demon gave you one option
and one option only and you took it without a chance to second guess yourself. Sam
was devastated to find out that the woman he had looked up to as a loving older
sister and friend, would do something like that for him and Dean. Dean didn’t
take it well, but this time, there was no way of getting out of the deal no
matter how many demons he threatened.
“I can’t –
I need you too, Y/N,” he finally cried, flinching at the sound of the hell
hounds that banged against the motel door. You oddly weren’t afraid. It
probably had a lot to do with the fact that you were doing this for the two men
that you loved more than life itself. “Don’t go, Y/N.” He begged, clutching
your hands. You took in the sight of the constellation of freckles that were scattered
across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, the way his scruff from not
shaving for a few days felt beneath your fingers.
to hug Sam tightly, knowing there wasn’t anything you could say that would make
this situation any easier.
it’s worth, if given a second chance, I would have still made the same choice,” you
told the two of them, swiftly kissing Dean one last time before making your way
towards the door.
his brother who was screaming for you to come back. Dean tried to get Sam to
let him go, he punched and kicked and clawed but his younger brother refused to
let him go. You broke the line of the dust with your boot and slowly opened the
door. In a matter of seconds, you no longer heard the way Dean choked out your
name with wretched sobs. It was quiet.
A/N: Another goofy Gabriel fluff. I hope you guys love this one!! Feedback is always appreciated and requests are open! I’ll by posting part 2 of Haunted Forest tomorrow for sure! The other will just be a surprise <3
You set the box of auburn hair dye on the counter of the bathroom sink. You had read the directions thoroughly before going to the bathroom. You put on your gloves, wearing a trash bag over your clothes so you wouldn’t stain them. You took the dye out, giving the mix a good shake. Soon you were massaging your hair with the dye, singing along to your music. You hummed and whistled the instrumental parts, swaying your hips.
You were so excited for the new look. Your hair was already a dark brown, so you were expecting this to go over well. It wasn’t like you to care about your appearance, but you were looking to get someone’s attention; Gabriel’s. He had been coming around a lot, especially with Castiel. You had a feeling that Castiel knew. You figured that you were either being obvious, or that he had just read your thoughts. He had those eyes that drew you in, as if he was trying to get your attention. They were the color of champagne; and you could feel yourself getting drunk, just by looking into them.
You had finished rubbing the dye into your hair, starting the timer. You continued to sing to your music as you disposed of your gloves and left over dye. You looked in the mirror smiling at the sight of your hair that was in a messy bun. Some of your hair loosely hung out of your messy bun.
You hadn’t even heard his wings, mostly because the volume of your music. “Hey sugar, whatcha up to,” Gabriel mused, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom.
You whipped your head in his direction, a few locks of hair hitting your face. You screamed knowing some of the dye had gotten into your eyes. The dye seared your eyes with pain, tears unfortunately puddling your eyes. The tears only made it burn more.
Gabriel rushed towards you in concern, “[Y/N], what the hell did you do?”
You looked at him, a bit angered by his words, “what do you mean, what did I do? You startled me, and I got hair dye in my eyes.”
“Well that’s not good,” Gabriel said a little smirk dancing on his lips.
“Is this funny to you?”
“Only a little,” Gabriel let out a small chuckle. “Look your timer is up, let me help you, okay?”
“Fine, but you owe me,” you said the edges of your lips forming into a smile.
Gabriel carefully took out the hair tie that was in your hair, releasing your long locks. He washed the dye out of your hair, making sure not to be too impatient. After the dye was out of your hair, he helped you flush your eyes with water. Gabriel grabbed a towel from the pantry, throwing it at your head. You had only cried a little bit as he washed out your hair from the pain in your eye. “I’m going to have to start calling you baby girl, because you can be such a baby at times,” the archangel teased, hopping onto the counter next to you.
You rolled your eyes, “usually people only use that as a term of endearment, not to tease someone.” You patted your hair with the towel. You put some color protection product in your hair; it also guaranteed to make your hair soft.
“I like your hair, but why did you feel the need to change it,” Gabe questioned tossing the bottle of hair product in the air and catching it.
“I just needed a new change, that’s all,” you lied, trying not to blush. This was the first time that you had been alone with Gabriel. Usually Gabriel tagged along with Castiel.
“You know I’m an angel right,” Gabriel looked in your direction, setting the bottle down.
Your cheeks were red, “yeah, I know that. You’re Castiel’s brother too, what about it?”
“I can hear your thoughts. I know what you’ve been thinking,” Gabriel whispered, a smirk appearing on his face. He hopped off the counter, standing behind you, his hands on the counter. “I just had to get the courage to tell you myself, that I felt the same way,” Gabriel whispered into your ear. His placed his hands on your waist, kissing your cheek. You dipped your head trying to hide how flustered you had become. Gabriel spun you around, grabbing your chin so you would look at him. “Looks like you’re in a hairy situation.”
You both couldn’t help the fit of laughter you threw yourselves into after that.