Imagine demon!Dean beating a guy up to death because he touched you and he got jealous.
“She’s pretty.” you said softly, trying to hold back the hint of bitterness and pain in your voice. Or jealousy for that matter. You couldn’t blame her, who knew with how many women Dean had been with ever since he became a demon.
“And probably his type. But it shouldn’t bother you now, should it chipmunk?” Crowley raised an eyebrow as the both of you didn’t take your eyes off of the demon playing darts as the blonde waitress gave him another drink with a rather flirtysmile might you say.
“Not now, not ever.” Crowley finally turned to look at you “You are not his girlfriend, (Y/n). Never been, yet you are bothered so much by this. I wonder why.”
You scoffed, turning to glare at him “As if you don’t know. Dean is probably the most oblivious man in the world but you never were Crowley. Why would you use this stupid nickname on me if you didn’t?”
“Guilty.” he flashed you a smile, downing his drink “But he’s no longer the man that you remember, love.”
“Right, so that’s why you wanted me here?” you scoffed “And don’t you dare deny it to me Crowley. You didn’t even blink in surprise when you saw me. You’re letting yourself get caught and sooner or later Sam will come walking in as well.”
“I must admit- the only thing that did surprise me was the fact that moose didn’t come in right after you.” he shrugged “But probably- it’s time to finally put him on track-” he looked at Dean “And make him realize how little he is leaving for just how much.”
“Hell? Oh wow, yes Crowley that really is everyone’s dream kingdom.”
“It is one, nonetheless.” he winked at you and before you could say a thing he had vanished right in front of your eyes. You scoffed at him but didn’t have the chance to question him when you turned your head and your eyes locked with his green ones. And just like always they made your heart skip a beat. Because maybe you were always friends but your love for him was undying.
You held your breath as he set his glass down and raised an eyebrow at you. He said nothing to the rest of them men he was playing with and casually strode towards you “(Y/n)” his voice was as rough but a lot more cold “Fancy seeing you here.” and the smirk on his face made it all worse.
“Is it?” you asked in a low voice and his smile dropped.
“What do you want here?” he asked serious.
“Oh so Crowley didn’t tell you?” you scoffed a laugh “He knew I was on your tracks with Sam, he should be here very soon. I managed to get a lead and thought if I could convince you to come back without him having to hurt himself but… I don’t think there is a point in trying.”
“I told you to stay away.” he shrugged casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets “Not my fault you don’t listen.
“You told Sam to let you go, not me. And I thought there was a chance here but- I was wrong obviously. I’m curious how you didn’t see this coming, or even more that Crowley didn’t speak to you about his plans. Whatever those may be. What happened? Don’t you guys tell everything? Oh no, don’t Dean, secrets are bad, they ruin relationships. We know it better than anyone.” you went from sarcastic to completely serious.
He scoffed, putting on a smirk on his face and rolling his eyes “Don’t care what his game is, I am not his toy. I have my own plans and I’m glad that… he made it easier for me.” he looked
“What do you mean?” you frowned when you noticed the predatory smile on his face “Made it easier by letting me find you?”
“I’ll let you know soon, now follow me and let’s out of here. You’re drawing too much fucking attention with those shorts.” he took hold of your arm, dragging you up as he glared at a few men behind you that had been sneaking looks at you.
“Like hell.” you hissed, snatching your arm from his “Why does it even matter to you? Especially now, I am nothing to you. So what if they look? I am free, Dean, hell they can even touch as much as they want to.” you said angrily.
His eyes darkened as he looked “Let’s go. Now.” he said in a low almost growl but you weren’t having any of it.
“Why?” you scoffed a laugh “So that you can kill me now? Or so that she doesn’t see us talking?” you motioned with your head to the blonde that already had her eyes on you. You tried so hard not to show how much this was hurting you.
“She has nothing to do with this. Come on.” he tugged, holding your hand again.
“Right, of course she doesn’t.” you scoffed “With how many have you been exactly all these months?”
“You’d want to know, wouldn’t you?” a satisfied smirk was on his face.
You didn’t have the chance to speak though because another voice spoke up “Is everything alright?” it was a guy you had seen checking you out ever since you came in.
“Yes, everything’s fine actually. My friend here was just leaving.” you gave Dean a look “How about you buy me a drink and we can talk?” you gave him a smile that made his grin widen.
“Yes, of course sweet cheeks.” he wrapped an arm around your waist.
“You’re gonna lose that hand buddy.” Dean growled, and you both stopped before you could leave.
“Excuse me?” he raised an eyebrow “Did you just threaten me?”
“No, I was giving you a friendly warning.” Dean shrugged with a casual smile.
“Yeah, right.” he scoffed, arm tightening on your waist just to mock the demon and for a second you got scared when Dean’s smile completely fell.
“But you obviously don’t listen very well.” he scoffed and before you could realize it he had grabbed the man by the collarof his shirt and pinned him against a pillar.
“And now- you get to see what I mean when I say that you shouldn’t have done that.” and even if you expected it you jumped when he threw a powerful punch at the man. And the another, and another and another without letting him do a single move. You were almost scared for his life when you saw the mark on Dean’s arm burn that angry red as he kept hitting the guy, blood covering his fist and groans and moans of pain filling the bar along with hushed whispers from other customers.
“Fucking asshole, think you could ever have a piece of that?” he scoffed a laugh, punching more “In your dreams!” another punch “She’s too pure and perfect for a bloody jackass like you. You would never stand a fucking chance.” he growled, punching him more.
You could barely make out any of the things he said after that as the sounds were too much to handle. People shouting, some cheering and encouraging him to keep going. And then you heard her.
“Dean, stop!” she screamed but he didn’t listen to her, as he kept punching with groans himself “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” she screamed but it didn’t seem to have a single effect on him at the moment.
“Would serve him fucking right.” Dean growled, grabbing his bloody face and making the guy look at you “Do you see that? Do you see her?” he said through gritted teeth “She’s great isn’t she? And you’d really want a piece of her tonight but that would be it. You had some gruesome thoughts for her after that though, didn’t you?” he turned his head to look at Dean “Didn’t you?” he roared and he gave him a weak nod.
“Just like I thought.” Dean smirked “For the first, I’d really just break your hand and maybe face. But for this-” he looked at him darkly and your breath got caught in your throat. If he killed him right there in front of so many people he’d draw all the wrong attention.
“Dean!” you screamed “No, no don’t!” you exclaimed and as surprising as it was for everyone, it caught his attention and he glanced at you over your shoulder. You looked at him with wide eyes, shaking your head in fear.
“Seems like your lucky day, bastard.” he growled “You’re very damn lucky that she can have this effect on me because trust me your death… it would have not been easy. And she would never give you a single glance because you know why?” he smirked in an almost sinister way “Oh you know why.” he laughed, pushing him to the side and he fell on the floor. He looked down at him for a second, smirking before with a roll of his eyes he turned around and looked at the rest of the customers.
He didn’t say a think, he only scoffed at them and walked towards you.
“D” you found yourself whispering as you stared at him with wide eyes “You would have-”
“I should have.” he growled “Hope you fucking understand I am not playing games here, (Y/n).” he grabbed your jaw with one hand and your heart leapt to your throat when he brought his face closer to yours, your lips only an inch away. You knew what he wanted to do but he stopped himself, looking from your lips up to your eyes. He smiled slightly, running his thumb over your lower lip.
“You are mine, and I’ll make sure everybody knows it from now on.” he said in a low rough voice and you frowned. You knew in what way he meant it, you were no fool with what he had almost done but it still confused you. You were always friends and on top of that even if he didn’t care at the moment as a demon… what really held him back from forcing a kiss out of you? IT felt as if for a moment you saw your own Dean flash through his eyes.
“Only. Mine.” he said in a husky voice in your ear and you felt shivers run down your spine when his teeth grazed over it “I’ll wait in the car.” he added and let go of you, almost leaving you to try to recover from the shock.
But you only had another one coming once he’d left and the waitress spoke to you “You are (Y/n)?”
“Why-” your voice was hoarse as you looked at her “You know me?” and the look on her face only said yes, making you realize there was only person that could have spoken about you to her.
hi, it’s me, back at it again w/ the (mostly) non-sexual intimacy
I would very much like to discuss soft baths and andreil today bc i had a fucking fantastic bubble bath and i think everyone should have more of them so buckle up my dudes
(also we’re operating in a little au in which college dorms have baths bc i do what the fuck i want)
it starts mostly just bc andrew likes to have baths, he likes to sit there for ages in the soapy water and let it relax his muscles after tough training for stupid sports and adds hot water when it gets cold and he is short enough that his whole body can be under water (lucky bastard)
he likes to hold his breath under water and enjoy how everything feels muffled and distant and separate and like nothing else matters for a minute so he usually has baths when he’s having a bad day, with a locked door and soft pyjamas and hot chocolate waiting for when he comes out
it also happens in part bc Allison likes two things a lot
1 - buying things for her friends
2 - lush bath bombs
so she combines this and decides that neil Needs some bath bombs bc we all know this boy is shit at self-care so allison is trying to get him to take actual care of himself bc she is an Excellent friend
one day she comes to visit armed with a bag of lovely smelling stuff, shoves it at neil and tells him to take a fucking bath
neil is sorta stunned (poor boy still isn’t great at accepting gifts but between andrew’s eden’s outfits and allison’s enthusiasm for gift-giving he’s been getting better) and he just sort of mumbles out a thank you and allison gives his cheek a soft pat
neil takes them all back to his dorm and lays them all out and smells them all and some are too strong but most of them are so nice and he actually likes the idea of them a lot and makes plans to take an actual bath this weekend for the first time in years
Note: this is my first GoT fanfic so I hope its good, I plan on making many more for different characters and if you have any character suggestions that should be done first let me know!
You were never really
innocent, like far from it. You never acted like a lady but you were forced
too, until you dishonored your father, he sent you to the Nights watch to be
their fuck toy or something along those lines. At least you got to go to the
wall, you could handle yourself very well, and your uncle was the Commander
there so you would be treated fairly well.
Summary: Bucky admires the girl of his
dreams, aka the Reader, during a party. Her only problem? The man holding her hand.
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: 2507
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex
(male receiving), love triangle, someone gets cheated on, a little bit of angst.
A/N: Here it is, my first attempt on
posting something of my own. This might be read by no one ever, but still, I’ve
had so much fun in the process and probably will do it again… Thank you so much @dretjie12 for being my beta and putting out with me. You have a special place in
English is not my first language, so you’ll
find grammar mistakes and nonsenses. Sorry! Feedback always welcomed!
Bucky enters the party making a beeline for the bar. It was one of Tony’s big shindigs at the Avenger’s Tower. He had lost count of how many he had attended since he joined the team and could barely remember the reason for it, if there ever had been one to start with.
It has been a slow process of readaptation after he came back from Wakanda, where T’chala’s scientists had finally found a treatment for the trigger words and other horrors Hydra had seen fit to grace his mind with. He still struggled with social events, preferring, instead, to hide in a nondescript corner sipping on whatever drink he took fancy to.
Taking a discreet balcony seat, he waits for the whisky he had ordered from the bartender. He searches the crowd, looking for the face he so longs to see.. Y/n
It had been like this from the moment he laid eyes on her. His gaze always searching, admiring her, his entire being longing for her presence. Bucky couldn’t understand why she had this effect on him, they had barely exchanged more than two words with her, shying away from her whenever she drew near.
But he was infatuated by Y/N, by how she had held his left hand when they were introduced, he was so entranced with her that he had held on longer than what was deemed socially acceptable, and yet she never let go before he did. The way her hair swung from side to side when she walked, how she was always looking straight into the eyes of whomever she was talking to, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, Oh her laugh! the most amazing sound Bucky had ever heard. And she was always laughing, with everyone…
Except with him. Why wouldn’t she speak to him? Fear… That was the only possible explanation in Bucky’s mind. Of course an angelical person like her would be frightened by him…The winter soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the Assassin…
With the whisky now in his hands, his lips touch the glass when he finally sees her..
There she was, across the room, laughing while Sam talked to her. For a moment Bucky wishes he could be the lucky bastard who was able to make her laugh like that. He takes a minute to admire the woman of his dreams. She had her hair curled falling on her shoulders and was wearing a long strappy black dress with a side slit that went high enough to make Bucky’s heart speed up. The deep V neckline wasn’t doing any good to his mental state either…
God, she’s perfect – Bucky momentarily worries that he had said that out loud, But he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in her. Well, maybe the only problem is the man holding her hands. Steve Rogers, Captain America, Bucky’s best and only friend in the world, the man who started a fucking Civil War to defend him.
She was his girl. That’s why, besides the fact that he probably scares the shit out of her, he would never get to touch Y/N, feel her skin on his. Why he avoids any kind of direct contact and is happy to venerate her from a distance. He couldn’t , by any means, give in to his feelings or even approach her. Wait, could it be the reason why she avoided him as well? No, it’s fear, for sure.
He’s dated girls, trying hard to get her out of his head. He had slept with women that would probably be taken as more beautiful or sexier than Y/N by any other person. Not for Bucky though… All he accomplished was to compare her with every single woman he’s been with, and wonder how it would feel if she was the one he was holding, kissing, making love to.
“Jesus, you’re so screwed” Drowned in his thoughts Bucky’d missed the readhead approaching, martini in her hand, sitting on a bench next to him with a smirk on her lips.
“What are you talking about, Romanoff?” He tries to play the ignorance card, knowing damn well that it would be pointless. The stunning spy was able to read his mind like no other, Steve included. Maybe it was their shared past, the one they never speak of, but lingers in the air. The ex-assassins simply understood each other.
“Please Barnes, you’re offending me” Natasha rolls her eyes and takes the drink to her mouth.
Bucky leans down his head with a humorless laugh “That obvious, huh?”
“To me, yes”. She spends a moment observing him, who had got back to watch the woman across the room hand in hand with his best friend. With a sigh, she kindly places her empty hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Just be careful, Bucky. Neither of you have been discreet lately” Bucky turns his head, looking with eyebrows knitted close together at Natasha, who was showing a rare sympathetic smile.
“What do you mean? In what way she’s not being discreet?”
The empathy on Natasha’s face was replaced by a familiar glare, before she stands up and turns her back leaving Bucky behind, mumbling words that his enhanced hearing caught as “Stupid Super Soldiers. No Serum in the brains, for sure”. But that didn’t answer his doubts…
He watches as Natasha joins the rest of the gang who was now sitting by a round table close to the dance floor. As usual, she takes the chair next to Clint Barton. Bucky moves his eyes to Steve, who is sitting across from the Widow, leaning in to say something. She responds by pointing to the Bar where Bucky stood. The Captain turns his head to his best friend, grinning and making a gesture calling him toward the gathered group.
Finding no way to decline the offer, Bucky nods and heads to the table that was also accommodating Sam, Wanda and Maria Hill. Getting close, he notices that the only left seat was the one next to Y/N, who had her back turned to him.
“Hey Buck, Join us, the food is amazing” Steve said with a mouthful pointing to his plate with the fork.
The fact that his fellow Super Soldier was the only one eating - an exorbitant amount of food- made him remember the skinny kid from Brooklyn that could barely finish a whole glass of milk. The memory brought a warm smile to Bucky’s face, which faded as soon as he spotted Y/N glancing nervously at the empty seat, avoiding his gaze..
“Uhmm, I don’t know pal, I’m not really that hungry” Bucky replies, attempting to refrain from the situation..
“Oh come on Buck, grace us with your presence, It’s not like you have somewhere else to go. Or do you already have a broad waiting?” Sam was now talking, emphasizing the word in an attempt to tease his 100 year old friend.
Missing Y/N taking a long sip from her own whisky, Bucky pretends to be amused by the conversation. He can’t find it in him to prolong the subject, so he pulls out a chair and takes his seat.
The group of friends goes back to chatting, no one seems to notice Bucky flinching when his right thigh brushes against Y/N’s left one under the table. Goosebumps sprung unbidden across his skin. He was now expecting her to pull away and move the chair, but instead, she was leaning on his touch and the sensation was overwhelming…
All the noise surrounding them fades away, replaced by the sound of his beating heart.
He rests his hand on his leg and by the corner of his eyes he sees Y/N doing the same thing. Feeling a rush of boldness, he moves it closer to hers until their pinkies link between their laps. He feels dizzy when she softly caresses his finger with hers and all of a sudden, like it was the most natural thing to do, they have all of their fingers tightly interlocked, holding hands, covered by the table cloth.
Bucky’s mind was running in full speed, and was hard to catch his breath, but yet, for that moment, time seemed to have frozen and everything was slow motion. No… It was not fear… She was touching him, he had her soft hand in his calloused one. And it felt so right…
Bucky’s stupor was interrupted by a familiar voice in the far distance.
“Are you ok, Barnes? Your face is white as sheet” It was Natasha, of fucking course.
With the unwanted attention, Y/N quickly removes her hand and backs away her leg, making Bucky feel empty.
“Ahm, Yeah I..I guess I need another drink, I’ll be right back” Bucky leaves the table choosing to ignore Natasha’s suspicious look. To his relief the rest of their friends were apparently unfazed.
In need of a place to calm his restless state, he heads to the rooftop. Getting out of the elevator he feels the breeze of the night and, watching the city lights, the puzzled events of the last couple of minutes keep running over in his mind. She had touched him, he could still feel the burning where their skin met and he knows that she was as much affected by it as him… What the hell was happening?
The quietness provided by the place was interrupted by the elevator ding, his heart jumps when he sees the person coming out of it and, without giving it a second though, he takes two quick steps, closing the distance between Y/N and him, feverously pressing their lips together. She immediately kissed him back, one hand tangling in his chocolate locks, while the other snaked up his muscular chest.
Without breaking the kiss, Bucky pins her against the nearest wall. He’s so drunk in her taste that he doesn’t want to let her go…Not again. He tastes the whisky she’s been drinking mixed with her chapstick and something sweet, that he knew was her, and only her.
Both of her arms around his neck now, one hand still grabbing his hair in a grip. She gasps for air and Bucky attacks her collarbone with a trail of hot kisses, reaching the pulse point to lightly bite on it. She lets out a moan and tightens the hold on his locks.
“I need you… Please” She speaks with a breathless voice, reaching to palm the bulge in his pants. If Bucky had a tiny bit of control until then, it was completely lost now. The avenger captures her mouth once again, travelling his hand up her exposed leg through the dress slit, burying his fingers under her panties to find her already damp, the sensation pulls a loud groan from him.
He pushes the black lace material down to her knees and she works her legs to let it drop to the floor, stepping out of it. Bucky pulls the opening of Y/N’s long gown up to her waist while she quickly goes for his belt, releasing Bucky’s erection. Not being able to lose any more time he guides his pulsing cock to her wet entrance. It feels like a punch to a gut when he finally sheaths his length inside her, the air leaving him in a long, torturous exhale.
Bucky holds her left leg up, keeping it locked around his waist, and uses his metal hand to support himself on the wall, while she maintains a firm grip on his shoulders. He goes slow at first, allowing their bodies to get acquainted with each other. For what feels like the first time, they stare into each others eyes, and at the moment, Bucky feels a sense of calm, a sense of peace he had not known for a long time..
He watches her as she closes her eyes and parts her lips slightly, whimpering in pleasure. “Oh Bucky…” hearing his name on her mouth in such a sinful way made his heart melt and his cock twitch inside of her.
His thrusts grow faster and the two of them become a mess of heavy breaths and moans. Bodies glued together. The frenzy only increases when Bucky readjusts her leg on his waist and his flesh fingers meet Y/N’s clit. He circles the nub of nerves in fast, harsh circles, The slight change in the angle and the extra stimulation make her let out a scream of pure ecstasy, signaling her climax. Bucky feels her clenching around him and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer.
It startles him for a second when she pushes at his chest, forcing him to pull out of her pulsing heat. His mind goes blank when she sinks to her knees and envelops his throbbing cock with her hot mouth. Her soft lips around his cock and a few bobs were too much for him to handle. “I.. I’m … gonna…. ”, Bucky warns, only making Y/N clutch his hips still, not letting him pull away from her. He groans loudly and she takes everything he has to offer, not missing a drop.
Struggling to breath, Bucky helps her get on her feet and keeps her in a tight embrace, forehead leaned against hers, both in a blissful state. When breathing wasn’t so hard anymore, she was the first one to speak.
“I love Steve… I really do” Bucky sighs at the mention of his friend’s name.
“Yeah, I know, I love that punk too” he responds matter-of-factly in a sad smile.
“I don’t want to hurt him” she continues. “But you…” She whispers. “You’ve been on my mind ever since we’ve met, I’ve been going crazy” tears starts to form in her eyes.
Bucky’s ribcage was fighting against the strong beating of his heart. “Yeah, I know the feeling, Doll” he says in a low voice, brushing his thumb on her cheeks.
She tears herself from him and leans down to grab her panties on the floor allowing him to gather himself too. “This can’t … won’t happen again” She manages to make her words convincing, standing up in front of him again, holding the delicate material.
Bucky closes his eyes and nods. He had known this was coming, but it did nothing to ease the pain of hearing those words. Y/N grabs his chin, forcing him to look at her. They stare at each other for a long moment before she locks their lips together in a smooch. Bucky feels her shoving one hand inside of his pocket before she breaks the kiss to leave.
He keeps looking at the city lights when he hears the elevator going down. He knows that it would all come eventually, the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache. But at that moment, all he could do was feel on cloud nine, turning his lips up in a grin, while his fingers played absent-mindedly with the piece of black lace inside his pocket.
After he got the phone call, Dean couldn’t have driven back to the Kelly’s house fast enough.
Some part of him was sure that it was just some cruel, cosmic joke, that Cas couldn’t possibly actually be there, alive and waiting for him.
They’d watched him die, watched the grace flash out of his eyes, seen the wings emblazoned on the ground. Hell, they’d buried him.
Sure, they’d lost Cas before, but this seemed so final. Dean had spent three days in depression, drinking his sorrows, thinking about how he’d never again get the chance to hear Castiel’s voice, wake up to those blue eyes looking down on him.
Thinking how he’d died without ever really knowing how Dean felt about him.
But then, the phone rang, and Dean, predictably, ignored it.
It rang three times before Dean bothered to pick up, grunting a tired, “Yeah, what?” into the receiver.
There was a brief pause before a deep, gravelly voice Dean never thought he’d hear again said, “Hello, Dean.”
Dean found Cas asleep on the sofa, curled up like a shrimp. Some generic reality show buzzed softly on the television set, illuminating the darkened room.
For a long moment, Dean just stared at him. Only his bare feet and shock of dark hair protruded from the thin blanket he was wrapped in, his soft snore permeating throughout the otherwise quiet room.
It couldn’t really be him. It just couldn’t.
Gently, Dean reached out and let his fingers brush his shoulder, so gently that Cas didn’t even stir. Beneath the blanket, the flesh was toned and warm, and distinctly human.
Dean tentatively touched him again, this time more firmly, letting his hand rest there a moment.
“Cas,” he whispered, shaking him gently. “Hey, Cas.”
Cas awakened with a soft, startled snort, sitting up and rubbing his eyes in a way that reminded Dean of a sleepy kitten.
Dean watched him in sheer awe, unable to believe this wasn’t a dream: this was, most definitely, Cas. His Cas.
He blinked at him, squinting dazedly. “…Dean?” he inquired, voice still slurred from sleep.
Dean swallowed wetly. “Yeah, it’s me, buddy.”
The blanket pooled around Cas’s waist, and only then did Dean register Cas wasn’t wearing anything except for his boxers.
Cas followed his eyes, then gathered the blankets up around him, abashedly. “Apologies,” he murmured. It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but he seemed to be blushing. “My clothes are in the wash. They have been…persistently dirty.”
Dean chuckled, but decided against telling Cas that a suit like that would be dry-clean only. “No worries, man. I’m just happy to see you.”
Well, that was the understatement of the twenty-first century. Dean realized belatedly his hands were on Castiel’s forearms, though whether they were trying to steady himself or Cas he really didn’t know. He made no effort to remove them.
“So, you’re uh. Sleeping,” Dean remarked, stupidly. “Does that mean you’re low on grace, or…?”
Cas shook his head. “No,” he said gravely. “I’m human. Completely, it would seem. My grace was extinguished when Lucifer stabbed me.”
Dean blinked. This couldn’t possibly be real, could it? Cas was human, and it seemed to be permanent. There’d be no more vanishing off to heaven, no more long, lonely nights wondering where he was. Cas would be soft and warm and tangible now, possibly forever.
It was a dream come true. Dean was about to say something along the lines of “that’s amazing,” when he realized belatedly Cas was crying, his chest heaving in quiet, painful sobs.
Dean scooted to sit beside him, never taking his hands off Castiel’s arms, afraid he’d disappear if he stopped touching him for one instant.
“Cas, buddy, what’s the matter?” he murmured, tipping his head to get a better view of his face. “You’re alive, man. We can finally go home.”
“But I’m a human again, Dean,” he whispered. “I’ll never be anything more than a burden to you now!”
Dean opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, instead just wrapping the shaking form up in his arms. God, it felt so good to be able to touch him again, to hold him again, soft and warm and alive.
“You could never be a burden, baby,” Dean murmured, not even questioning where the endearment came from. He breathed in the smell of his mussed-up hair, still slightly damp from the shower and smelling like shampoo. “You never were. And it’s not gonna be like last time, either: I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay? I promise.”
Cas stubbornly pushed him away, still sniffling slightly and refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t want you to have to take care of me, Dean. You owe me nothing.”
Undeterred, Dean scooted closer to him on the couch, putting a tentative hand on his knee. “Well, I want to,” he said with certainty. “And for the record, yeah, I do: I owe you a hell of a lot, Cas. You pulled me out of hell, saved me in every sense of the word. And I don’t think I can live without you anymore. Or at least, I sure as hell don’t wanna.”
Cas started to cry again, and Dean didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his bare shoulders, rubbing them gently, making soft, soothing sounds until the tears finally stopped.
Part of him was sad that he’d ever made Cas feel so useless, that he couldn’t convey the indescribable joy of just having him in his life. But another part, the larger part, couldn’t stop being happy that he was here again.
And that was all he needed.
That night, they lay in bed together, Dean gently, soothingly, stroking his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t stopped touching Cas since he’d gotten back, and he didn’t plan on it, either.
“Dean, I was thinking,” said Cas, thoughtfully. “I don’t believe hunting is a good career for me.”
Dean’s fingers momentarily stilled. “No?”
Cas shook his head. “I’ll continue to live in the bunker, of course, and I’d still join you on the occasional hunt, but I don’t believe I want it to be my primary career. I think I’d like to do something else.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Dean asked, more at ease now that Cas had confirmed he was going to keep living in the bunker.
Cas rolled to face him, looking slightly up at him through long eyelashes. “I think,” he said thoughtfully. “That I’d like to be a professor.”
“A professor?” Dean repeated, a little surprised by the assertion.
Cas nodded. “I have vast stores of knowledge from my long lifespan, and could easily relay enormous shares of it on history, theology, mythology, mathematics, physics, and/or combat strategies. I also retain fluency in over 150 human languages, and have a significantly higher than average IQ,” he added modestly. “I believe you and Sam would be able to forge me the appropriate credentials?”
Dean took a moment to process it: he thought of Cas coming home in a sweater vest and glasses, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, all nerdy-hot. He liked the image immensely.
“Yeah, baby,” Dean grinned. “I think we can.”
Cas smiled softly, internally relieved at the thought of being useful at something. At being more than just a burden to his human family.
Sensing he was retreating back into his self-deprecating thoughts, Dean brushed a gentle thumb over his cheekbone. “Hey,” he said, tipping Castiel’s chin up to face him, meeting his eyes fully. “We’re gonna have a great life together, you hear? Not normal, I tried that and I think it’s safe to say it ain’t either of our cup of tea, but it will be a great one. I wanna marry you, Cas: I wanna propose, with a ring and everything, and then have a classic hunter wedding. Then I wanna take you on a long-ass honeymoon, somewhere warm and sunny, where we can do it on the beach, and maybe someday, we’ll even have kids. I wanna have it all with you, Cas. And then, someday, we’ll both kick it, and God-willing, we’ll spend eternity together in heaven, doin’ it like bunny rabbits.”
Cas’s eyes grew wider with each passing second, expression unreadable. Three days ago, he wouldn’t have even considered spilling his heart like this. But that was more than enough time to get a taste of what a missed opportunity would feel like, of the hollowness of losing Cas without him knowing how Dean felt.
Dean was never going to let that happen again, consequences be damned.
After a moment of silence, Dean smirked – trying to hide how vulnerable the confession had left him – and added, “That is, if a gorgeous babe like you is okay with spending eternity with my sorry ass.”
Cas blinked, then nodded mutely, expression vaguely stunned.
“Yes,” he said finally, voice barely a whisper. “Oh, God, yes.”
The next morning, Dean woke up next to Cas for the very first time.
Up close, in the daylight, he could see the delicate stubble of his jaw, full lips chapped and slack with sleep. He could see the dark fan of his eyelashes, the little lines between his eyebrows where they drew together when he was confused.
Dean couldn’t stop staring. Which, under most circumstances, might be considered the slightest bit creepy, but he figured turnabout was only fair play. And besides, if a man couldn’t watch his back-from-the-dead boyfriend sleep – or fiance, rather – what was the world coming to?
Warmth bloomed in Dean’s chest. He wasn’t sure how this had happened, or why. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this to Sam, and he didn’t care.
All he knew was that Dean Winchester was one lucky bastard, and wanted to wake up next to this for the rest of his life, snoring and all.
After a while, Castiel blinked open his eyes, blue and beautiful as a pool in summer. He smiled softly, and Dean hoped he was thinking something close to the same thing.
Request: Hey Sweets. Damn today is horrible :/ Would you mind doing
an imagine with Bucky where you had a one-night-stand after a rough Mission but
you both have Feelings for each other which you dont talk about. So after the
sex he just leaves, leaving you heart broken. Over the next days you avoid him
then and Natasha finally tells him he is an ass (cause she knows what’s going
on). Then he realized how stupid he was and buys you flowers and all and apologizes,
then you talk about your Feelings ? :)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2122
Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, fluff
A/N: i teared up while writing this. okay i changed it up a little bit. i think it is my best work. thank you for the request. i hope i dont disappoint. leave a request or just come and talk. taglist is open ( i added protective Tony because who doesnt love it)
Heartbroken. That’s how he left you. Heartbroken, alone, and
Today’s mission was a tough one. Everyone was left battered
and bruised. Steve had a bullet wound to the shoulder and Natasha broke her
arm. You had a sprained wrist and cuts all over your body (being thrown through
a window will do that to you.)
You and Bucky had an unspoken bond. You could fight together
like a well-oiled machine, and he felt terrible that he couldn’t stop that from
happening to you. All he wanted was to protect you; to keep you from harm, even
though he had caused the worst pain you had ever felt.
Imagine being Jensen's younger sister and falling in love with Jeffrey when you visit him on set.
“How long?” came your brother’s rough voice as you looked down at your feet.
“Wh-what?” you whispered as he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand down his face.
“How long have you been fuc-” he cut himself off, shaking his head “How long have you been seeing him, (Y/n)?” you expected him to be mad, after all he had walked on his baby sister having sex with a man when you were supposedly single for a long time. And it wasn’t the lies about your personal life that angered him, more like hurt him because you’d always tell him everything, or because he had decided to surprise you by coming to see you first after getting done with the shooting for this season of the show and had to face this. None of that, you assumed, angered him more than the fact that he knew said man. It was his once co-star, friend and much older man, Jeffrey.
“I just-” youfidgeted with your fingers “Not long, not as long as I’ve been trying to fight this that is.”
“Then for how long have you felt for him this way?” he said through gritted teeth and you looked at him hurt.
The dimly lit room was alive with people. Men spread out in the smoky bar surrounded by scantily clad woman all practically throwing themselves at the men. They all wanted their attention. Only Miseok sat alone with no one’s attention on him as he silently watched the scene before him while nursing his glass of whiskey. He blended in yet stood out. It’s how he liked it.
The number of secrets the room held was endless, and thanks to Minseok’s ladies he knew them all. It was amazing how a couple of drinks and a naked woman could make a man sing like a canary. Over the years he had gathered dirt of every businessman in the city to hold over their heads for the day he needed a favor. It was the source of his power, and exactly what made him dangerous.
A hand ran across the back of his shoulders but he didn’t react. It was only when one of the more popular woman, Daisy, plopped into his lap. While most men would be overjoyed with attention from her, Minseok’s mind was elsewhere. “Minseok,” she purred into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned forward to expose more cleavage in hopes of gaining his full attention.
guys i never wanna ask much of you but pls give me some feedback bc i am super nervous about this fic idk why pls
warning: this will make u sad :( bc sad and scared Dan Howell
Summary: “Straight Guy Worries He’s Being Homophobic To Gay Roommate, Realizes He’s Fallen In Love With Him.”
“You want to what?”
Dan chomped down on his crisps and held a finger up. His friend stared back at him and waited a bit impatiently for him to swallow.
“Move out.” Dan chewed another chip. “And get a roommate.” Dan said after swallowing.
Caspar was quiet before bursting into laughter which surprised Dan.
“You’re scared of people, buddy.”
Dan stuck the finger up as he ate the rest of his chips. He thought about what Caspar said and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t scared of people…. he didn’t like people he didn’t know or feel comfortable with.
Didn’t that damn Pineapple Boy know the difference?
The bright sun streams through a small crack in the curtains early in the morning, unceremoniously waking you up. You roll over in bed in an attempt to hide from the rude awakening but it is no use. Once you have been woken up, there’s no going back to sleep.
You open your eyes and find yourself face-to-face with your laptop, which kept you up until well past four in the morning. At the time, binge watching your favorite show on Netflix had felt like a wonderful idea. Now, due to the exhaustion that clings desperately to your bones, you realize that staying up so late probably wasn’t such a great plan after all.
Forever (2) - I know, baby girl. I know. (FP Jones & Jughead Jones-Riverdale)
Request: Hi! Could you please do a part 2 or forever where FP has been framed and put in jail and it’s jughead’s first day at south side high (and this is when he is sorta living in FP’s trailer) and reader helps calms his nerves with school and maybe even Betty?
Thank you for the request, i hope i did it justice :)
2 months have passed since Jughead found out about FP’s and Y/N’s relationship and everything has been going great. FP started working for Fred Andrews again, Y/N has been getting along with Jughead wonderful and they all were happy.
“So Jughead, i heard that your high school has some sort of a dance happening tonight. Are you and Betty going?” Y/N asked standing up from the table and starting to clean up after they just finished dinner.
“Yeah, It’s not like I have much of a choice.” He said sarcastically. Everyone knew that a school dance was not really in his style.
“You’re so much like your father.” Y/N laughed.
“Yeah right!” They both said at the same time.
“Mhm, of course not.” She shook her head at them. “Not at all.”
“Are you two going as well?” The boy asked, not sure if he would be rather them saying yes or no.
“Nah.” Y/N said, knowing that FP wouldn’t enjoy it.
“Lucky you.” Jughead said to his father making him smirk.
“That I am.” He nodded looking at the woman he loved.
Soon they heard a knock.
“Expecting someone?” FP asked looking at the girl sitting next to him on the couch while Jughead was sitting at the desk writing his novel.
“That must be Betty, she’s picking me up.” The boy said not even looking up from his laptop.
“I’ll get it.” Y/N stood up and walked to the door. “Betty, hey! Come in, Jughead is at the table.” She said letting the teenage blonde inside.
“Thank you Miss-”
“Call me Y/N, please. No need for formalities.” The woman smiled before closing the door behind her.
“Ready?” Betty asked walking over to Jughead who was in no hurry to get ready for the dance.
“Yeah.” He sighed before standing up.
“You,” FP said pointing at his son, “Be a gentleman.”
“He always is, Mr. Jones.” Betty said with a smile, she still seemed nervous around FP.
“Betty, Take some pictures, I wanna see how cute you two looked.” Y/N smiled before hugging Jughead. “Have fun.”
“Yes Mi-, Y/N.” Betty smiled before the duo walked out.
“They are kinda cute together.” Y/N smiled before sitting down next to FP again.
“You think everyone and everything is cute.” He laughed warping an arm around her shoulder, letting her cuddle in to his side.
“Well mostly everything and everyone is cute. World is a beautiful place, Mr. Jones.” She said making him chuckle.
“You and I are from different worlds then, baby girl.”
A couple of hours have passed and the couple has just finished dinner and went to lie down in their bed.
“Juggie was right.” He said, “I’m unbelievably lucky.”
“You are.” She nodded, drawing small circles on his chest with her finger as she lied beside him, his arm around her. “You managed to fix your relationship with your son, you got a job, working with your best friend, you stopped drinking …” She talked, smiling about how much he has changed.
“That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head.
“What did you mean then?” She asked looking up at him.
“You. I’m unbelievably lucky to have you by my side. And none of those things would of happened without you.”
“FP…” She was speechless, she loved him, with all of her heart and nothing could change that.
“I know, baby girl. I know.” FP pulled her up in to a kiss. She didn’t need to say anything. He saw it in her eyes. He knew she loved him and would stay by his side no matter what.
She climbed on top of him, each of her legs on ether side of his lap, not breaking the kiss as he ran his hands up her thighs, lifting up the flannel she was wearing before deciding to just rip it open.
“I’m one lucky bastard.” He said to himself as he saw her in wearing matching set of black lace panties and bra.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.” She whispered leaning down to kiss his neck while her hand made its way in to his boxers, gently grabbing his already hard member.
“Baby-” He was cut of by the front door opening in in matter of seconds there were cops standing all around them.
“What the fuck?” Y/N screamed, jumping off of him, pulling one of his flannels she was wearing closer to her body, trying to cover herself up.
“Mr. Jones, you’re under arrest for the murder of Jason Blossom. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in the court of law.” The sheriff said as two of the cops walked towards the duo on the bed.
“What? He didn’t kill anyone!” Y/N said panic in her voice.
“Ma'am, we’ll have to ask you to get out the way.’‘ The female officer said, grabbing her hand and keeping her in place.
’'Hey, hey! I’m going. Don’t touch her!” FP almost growled at the officers before standing up and pulling on a pair of jeans and a flannel. “It’s gonna be okay, baby girl.” He said as they cuffed him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” The girl said trough the tears before collapsing on the floor, feeling helpless.
“Dad?!” Jughead entered the trailer looking around for his dad. He heard that he was arrested but couldn’t believe it. He was sure it was all a lie and that he was just sleeping in at home.
“Dad!” He tried again walking in to his dad’s bedroom only to find Y/N on the floor. “Y/N?” He ran to her and shook her.
“Jughead?” The girl opened her eyes, realizing she must of fallen asleep while crying after they have arrested FP.
“Juggie…” She took a deep breath trying to think about what she will say. “Cops came last night, they arrested him for murder of Jason Blossom.” She said, taking the boys hand in hers.
“No-” The boy’s voice broke.
“I’m sorry Juggie.” She got on her knees and hugged the boy in front of her. “He will get out.” She said as the boy started crying in to her shoulder. “He’s not guilty. They can’t punish him for something he didn’t do.” She rubbed his back as he just held on to her like a little boy would hold on to her mommy after being scared by thunder. “I’m right here, Juggie. We’ll get trough this. Together. Okay?” She pulled away, cupping the boy’s face in her soft hands, trying to hide the fact that she herself was shaking. “I’m here. You have me. Okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded trying to stop crying.
“Go get yourself a glass of water from the kitchen and I’ll get ready and we’ll go to the police station and see what the situation is. Alright?” The girl said standing up from the ground.
“Yeah.” Jughead nodded and walked to the kitchen.
“Ready?” Y/N asked walking out of the bathroom now full face of make up, making it impossible to tell she spent the whole night crying.
“Yeah.” He said looking up at the girl who was now wearing a simple black t shirt and light blue skinny jeans paired off with some black combat boots.
“Let’s go then.” She said walking out of the trailer and to her car, with Jughead right behind her.
“We’re here to see FP Jones.” Y/N said calmly when they walked in to the police station.
“You can’t see him right now.” The old man sitting behind the desk said in a bored tone.
“Why the hel-” Jughead started but Y/N cut him off by squeezing his shoulder and saying. “May we ask why?”
“He’s being interrogated.”
“Can we see him after?”
After sitting in the waiting room of the police station for two hours Jughead finally looked up and saw his father walk out of one of the interrogation rooms. “Dad!” He stood up and tried to walk over to him but was stopped by one of the cops pushing him back.
“FP…” Y/N whispered, it physically hurt her to see him like this. It took everything she had not to cry.
“You can see him now.” The police officer from before said. “But only one at the time.”
“You go Juggie, I’ll wait.” The girl said.
“Thank you.” Jughead hugged her before walking in to the room where FP was lead to.
“He confessed.” Jughead said, when he came out and walked back to Y/N. “He did it.” His face was a mixture of anger, confusion, sadness and god knows what else.
“What?” Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“He’s who everyone thought he was, a murderer.”
“Betty is picking me up. I have to go.’' The boy walked out before she could say anything else.
’'You can go in now.” The officer said to her and she nodded before walking in the direction from where Jughead just came.
“FP!” She let out a cry when she saw the man she loved behind prison bars.
“Baby girl.” He quickly stood up and walked to the bars, reaching out to grab her hand.
“What’s going on, FP?” She asked, overwhelmed with everything.
“I had to confess, princess. I’m sorry.” He said, his eyes full of sadness.
“But you didn’t do it!” She said, trying to convince herself.
“I had to. I’m so sorry.” He said reaching up to cup her face, whipping away the tear that escaped her eye.
“You didn’t do it!”
“I love you.” He said, knowing nothing else he could say would mean anything. “Take care of Juggie.”
“No! You’re not doing this!” She shook her head, her voice quiet. “You’re not saying goodbye. You’ll get out. We’ll be together.”
“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He said again before pulling her close and kissing her, the prison bars bleary allowing their lips to touch.
“I love you too, no matter what.” She said quietly just as one of the officers walked in.
“Ma'am, the visit hours are over.”
“Yeah.” She pressed one more kiss to FP’s lips before walking out.
A couple of days have passed and Jughead moved in with Y/N in FP’s trailer. She had became a mixture of a mother figure and a friend to him.
“Y/N? Can I get some advice?” Jughead walked up to her one while she was cooking them something to eat.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Mine and Betty’s 3 month anniversary is coming out and she is making every monthly anniversary kinda a big deal.” He started to explain.
“I can’t decide if that's cute or weird.” She chuckled giving him her full attention.
“It’s both. Anyway I was thinking of getting her a present but i don’t know what to get her.”
“Okay, what kind of present are you thinking?”
“I have no idea.”
“How about some roses and chocolates and you can write her a love letter kind of thing to make it a bit less basic?” She suggested.
“That sounds a good idea. Thanks!”
“Imma be a bit late tonight, I have somethings to take care of at work. Be safe.” Y/N called out before grabbing her keys and walking out.
“Sure.” Jughead said from the couch, looking down at his notebook with Betty sitting on the opposite end of the couch reading something.
“Hey, i’m hom-” Y/N cut herself off the second she entered the trailer only to find Betty in her bra on the kitchen counter and Jughead standing in between her legs, groping and kissing her. “For fucks sake! We make food there!!” She said hardly holding back a laugh.
“Y/N!? Fuck, I thought you’ll be working late.” Jughead said jumping away from Betty who quickly pulled her shirt back over her head.
“It is late, Forsythe!” She said using his actual name.
“I’m sorry.” Betty started to apologize but Y/N just lifted her hand, stopping her.
“Hey it’s fine. God knows you’re not the first couple doing that there. Just clean up after yourself.” The older girl laughed before walking towards her and FP’s room.
“Wait does that mean you and- Eww.” Jughead gagged jumping away from the counter.
“Clean up after yourself, Jones!” She said laughing, leaving the two blushing teenagers behind her.