i also have a special place in my heart for oblivious sam


***Special thanks to @marvel-ash for this beautiful graphic that I’m all heart eyes over! I’m in love with it! Thank you isn’t adequate!!! xoxo***

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and the reader meet in a bar just days before he’s set to go get Sam and look for their dad. While he didn’t mean to drag her into the life, and he tried with all his might to keep her out of it, fate has other plans. 

Word Count: 20k+ (I know, I know. @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit has officially dubbed me her Wordy Princess, a title I gladly accept. But really, I hope the word count does not deter you.)

Warnings: Major angst, smut (fingering, handjobs, unprotected and protected sex, etc.), language, minor canon divergence (i.e. Lisa doesn’t exist), but also the glory that is Dean through the seasons. I love this man, and this just intensified that for me.

A/N: This fic was for @lipstickandwhiskey ‘s AC/DC song challenge and the song I chose was Whiskey on the Rocks. Now, originally, this was going to be PWP, well, the closest I could get. But then, this fic had other ideas and here we are, 20k of plot. I would apologize, but well, this may or may not have quickly risen to my all time favorite fic, and I hope that y’all love it as much as I do. It’s also written in a style I’ve never written in: third person, present tense, and entirely from Dean’s POV. I happen to love it, I love the way it reads and flows, and I hope you do too. Enjoy! 

Tags: At the bottom. Happy to add anyone to my tags list (I currently have an Everything, Dean, Sam, and Benny list) as long as you’re following me. Cheers!

The first time, Dean picks her up in the bar, using a cheesy half-assed pick up line, only half expecting her to be open to his advances.

But she succumbs to his smug grin in record time, pulling him into the bathroom minutes later and locking the door behind them, whispering ‘fuck me’ into his ear as he kisses down the column of her neck. He sucks a dark mark right above her pulse point, and he is more than happy and ready to obey. It’s in the grimy bar bathroom, on top of the sink, just enough clothes shoved down and pulled aside to give access. It’s handsy and furious, all teeth and fingernails, scratching and biting, grunts and growls of ‘more’ and ‘harder’ and ‘yes, right there,’ both chasing their release as if it were the last thing on earth they’d ever do. They still manage to meet it together, unable to keep their moans quiet, her hands clutching at his shirt, his buried in her hair. 

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The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Grocery Store

Todd the demon is a he, now, if only because Granny Ethel insists upon using copious ‘Dear boy, keep trying and ‘Atta boy!’ critiques to varying degrees depending on how well his needlework, crochet, and knitting attempts progress.

Gender isn’t a concept the demon concerned himself with before. If Todd had been, say, a girl named Tonya, he supposes he’d be a she instead. If Todd had been gender-neutral and properly communicated with his grandmother, he supposes she would call him they or child, appropriately. Granny Ethel isn’t one to discriminate. Even when she properly wears her glasses and sees his obviously un-Todd-like appearance, only shaking her head and smiling with a good-natured “kids these days” on her lips. But he wouldn’t mind if Granny Ethel called him boy, girl, thing, or abomination, so long as she stayed happy.

Granny Ethel is a patient woman. Todd simply can’t understand why or how she’d become the black sheep of her family, especially after a full week of living with her hospitality. Through the constant baked goods and the modest but satisfying three-meals-a-day; the careful (oh-so-careful) dusting of trinkets and bookshelves with tiny cloths and feather dusters not fit for large claws, which he insists upon doing while she looks on in worry before brewing more coffee; the midday television re-run breaks spent sealing cash donations into envelopes and discussing human rights issues instead of watching old shows, he simply can’t think of her as anything but a paragon of her kind.

It’s a problem with them, he concludes. Not her.

It isn’t a decision he makes lightly.

Spending such a brief time with her, he’s already learned so much more about humans than he ever would have cared to know, beyond perceiving them as vessels or a means to an end. There is much suffering in the world—sometimes even more than that in Hell—but there is also kindness.

He’s known that, but he witnesses it first hand during their first trip outside of Granny Ethel’s home.

“Come, now, Todd, we have much shopping to do. I’m afraid my pantry isn’t stocked appropriately for the upcoming food donation drive and I can’t just skip it this month.”

Todd remembers addressing an envelope to the local food bank—most people would stop there, figuring their good deed was done.

“I also have to stock up on this week’s groceries. Feel free to buy whatever you want, dear. I can cook anything, you know! At least, I try. I suppose you’d like some snacks, too. But I am so glad you’re here; think of all the bags we can carry between the two of us!”

There is no car in Granny Ethel’s driveway, or a garage to store it. He wonders how they’re going to make it to the grocery store as he waits for her to lock the door behind them, as she hobbles down the two small concrete steps with her cane in hand.

It isn’t until she’s halfway down the sidewalk that he realizes they’re walking. In public.

An old crone in black and a demon at her side, wearing a handmade shawl so lovingly stitched with various, terrifying occult symbols.

He isn’t the only one who sees a problem with this—the neighbor’s dog, a small, bug-eyed thing, yaps indignantly at them from the front lawn as it bounces around the dewy grass at its owner’s feet, soon erupting in warning yowls and howls, before falling silent mid-yip when Todd locks eyes with it. The neighbor—Maurice, if he remembers Granny Ethel’s gossip correctly—stands frozen, watering can dangling limp from his hand as he overwaters the begonias at his feet, mouth hanging open in undignified disbelief.

“Good morning, Maurice!” Granny Ethel calls with unmitigated cheer, and a hint of pride. “Nice morning, isn’t it? Oh! Have you met my wonderful grandson Todd? He finally came to visit! We’re going shopping now. Will you watch my house?”

Maurice simply stares, dumb with shock.

Halfway down the block, another neighbor’s car brakes with a squeal before they make it out of the driveway and they stick their head out of the window to gape.

Shutters crack open. Curtains are shoved aside.

Before Todd knows it, they are the cul-de-sac’s center of attention.

Granny Ethel doesn’t pay it any mind and continues obliviously on, waving to each face in turn as those faces pale, yet hers remains rosy.

“My, such a busy day today. I haven’t seen everyone out like this since the Fourth of July block party. Oh, if you’re still here during summer, Todd, we should definitely take part. Maybe we should start knitting an American flag for the occasion. What do you think?”

He can only nod.

They make it to the grocery store without incident—aside from the broken fire hydrant caused by a distracted driver and the one, single person who ran away screaming, and the handful that crossed themselves, and the one person bold enough to snap a picture with their phone before Todd grabbed it from their hands and threw it while Granny Ethel wasn’t looking, too distracted with how well the city’s roadside flowers were blooming—and Todd, ever the gentledemon, takes a small shopping cart from its line and trails behind Granny Ethel as she consults the list taken from her purse.

As expected, those within the store stop and stare. Even the calming elevator music jolts to a pause.

A young man in an employee vest, who looks high, shoots Todd the demon-horn hand sign and smiles before swaggering away to the frozen food aisle, and the manager meekly approaches them, skirting around a fresh fruit display.

“Ma’am, is there—is there something I can—do you need help?” he asks, sweating from his receding hairline to his neck as he tugs at his collar and straightens his frumpy tie.

“Oh! I’m so glad you asked. I didn’t see any sales circulars by the door—what kind of specials are on right now? Particularly on things like pizzas and cereals and whatever else young men like to eat.” Granny Ethel leans in close to the man, close enough to loudly whisper, “See, my grandson here is a quiet, shy boy despite his appearance, and I don’t think he’d ask me himself, but I bet he’d love to get some junk food to snack on between meals.”

The manager’s eyes widen, blood-shot, as he looks to Todd, who only smiles—which comes off as terrifying, he’s certain, with all the sharp teeth and red eyes involved.

“S-SURE! Junk food. Right. Um—uh, w-well, I think there’s a BOGO—buy one get one free—deal on the frozen pizzas. Uh…most cereals are marked down right now…th-there’s a sale on potato chips…hot dogs…” His voice trails off, too burdened with trembles and fear as he continues to hold Todd’s gaze. “And—you know, I’m sure some other employee can help you, ma’am. I’m not one anymore as of this moment. I QUIT.” That said, he yanks the flimsy plastic nametag from his shirt and runs for the door, followed by half of the shoppers who abandon their carts and drop their baskets, scattering groceries everywhere.

Granny Ethel watches him go, then sighs. “He must have been overworked and stressed. I almost walked out on a job a long time ago for the same reasons, but I needed it. You be careful of corporate America, Todd.”

He takes her words to heart, and he fully agrees.

Shoppers that remain in the grocery mart avoid them at all costs as they meander through the frozen food section, the bread aisle, the junk food corner—and Granny Ethel pays them no mind, filling the cart to the brim with refills of groceries she needs back at home and treats she thinks Todd needs more of in his life. He supposes he does, if she says he does. Far be it from him to contradict her adolescent-savvy wisdom.

Even so, the single shopping cart is far too small for all of the spoils—halfway through the shopping list, he finds them in need of another. It isn’t an issue. Many are left scattered, abandoned, around almost every corner. By the end of the list, both carts are full to the brim, and Granny Ethel is simply beaming.

The checkout lines are deserted—they have their pick. Although only one station is manned by a clerk, and it greatly narrows their choice.

As Todd wheels the two shopping carts to the register, he recognizes the young employee from before, who once again shoots him the demon-horn hand symbol.

“Love your poncho, dude,” Sam (as his nametag reads) comments with a bit of a tired drawl, and there are dark shadows under his eyes as expected from an overworked youth on minimum wage, but he is otherwise energetic, quickly scanning each of the items set on the conveyor belt, and smiling at demon and old woman in turn. “Did the little lady here knit that for you?”

“Crocheted!” Granny Ethel corrects with a grin, preening like a proud parakeet. “It does suit him, doesn’t it? Of course, I would never make something that didn’t suit my dear grandson. He must always be well-dressed.”

“You seem like a really supportive gramma. That’s cool. When I was in my super hardcore death metal phase, mine just dragged me to church every Sunday.” A digital beep accompanies nearly every word as he skillfully rings up each grocery down the line.

“Oh, I would never do that. Mainly because I no longer belong to a church. And also because Todd seems so averse to discussing Bible passages, so I never force him.”

At this, Todd gives a wry smile. He places the final handful of groceries onto the conveyor belt and sidles around Granny to the other side of the checkout, bagging the groceries that have already been scanned. It seems the official bag boy has fled in fright.

“I can imagine. Never one for religion, myself. Oh, and you’re eligible for the senior citizen’s discount, so let me just…” Sam pauses a moment to key in a code on the register and it dings. “Aaand, there. Your total comes out to $204.56. Stocking up for the winter already? It’s only March.”

“Oh, dear, no. Half of this is for the food drive!” Granny Ethel chuckles good-naturedly as she leans her cane against the counter and digs through her small pocketbook and produces a checkbook, then dives back in to search for her favorite pen.

Sam turns to Todd while awaiting payment. “By the way, dude, that costume is killer. I’ve never seen anything so realistic, with the added bonus that you scared the boss away! Totally made my day. My week, even.”

Todd gives a nod, happy to be of service, even if it isn’t a costume. He can’t exactly say it aloud. Perhaps one day he’ll learn how to speak English coherently, but for now nonverbal cues work just fine.

Finally, Granny Ethel finds her pink, plastic jewel-encrusted ballpoint pen and makes out a check to DeVille-Mart, even going so far as to take one of the heavier paper bags for herself, never one to make Todd carry all of the groceries himself. “You have a wonderful day, young man. Thank you.”

“Y’all have a great day, too, Ma’am.” Sam offers a toothy smile, and it seems sincere enough as he sees them off with a lazy wave “Hope to be seeing you shop here again.”

Todd isn’t so sure they’ll ever return once upper management hears about this visit, but it’s nice to know they are accepted by at least one individual.

“Now, Todd, let’s get to the food bank. We have such a long day ahead of us. But there’s a reward at the end of it—I bought ingredients specifically for chocolate turtle brownies!”

If the visit to the food bank is in any way similar to this excursion—and it will be, he decides, as yet another gawking driver’s car slow-collides with the corner vending machine when they pass through the automatic doors—they have a long day ahead of them, indeed.

Destiel fic recs

I had some time and thought I should give it a try. These are my real favorites, I left out WiPs and the ones I haven’t finished reading. (If you want some more ideas, then here is my bookmark page for spn on AO3)   I’m sure there’s gonna be a few everyone has read, but I couldn’t leave them out.

<10 k

Clueless by ChocolateKid  
Five times Sam stayed oblivious and one time he didn’t.

A Different Kind of Magic by K_K_TiBal  
Castiel is a witch that prides himself on his healing spells and Dean is that one customer that keeps coming into his shop with a different illness that needs curing. 

A Thousand Words by K_K_TiBal 
Street artist AU

 Jacob’s Ladder by imogenbynight  
In which Dean develops a crush on a radio DJ who doesn’t know the first thing about the music he’s playing.

Unlit, Unmarked and Forgotten (Roads) by awed_frog 
“Where am I even supposed to go? After everything we survived together, I watched the man I love die. There’s no normal after that.” 11x17 coda

10 - 50 k

Unlikely Hero by Chancy_Lurking  
When Castiel calls Dean, after almost of decade of radio silence, for help after his daughter is kidnapped, it’s supposed to be a professional favor. But Dean’s life is never that simple and when old feelings get involved and stir up old demons, well… Why wouldn’t there be a little dose of Hell to top it all off?

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers 
Canon Divergence

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Mysterious Hazelnut Pt. V

Summary: Coffee have always been key to lighten up your mood in cloudy days. Specially when its made by your favorite barista.

Author: @sleepywinchester prev. deanwincehster-af | Mobile Masterlist |

Pairings: Barista!Sam x Plus Size!Reader

Words: 1.5k+

Beta: @latinenglishfandomblog

Warnings: None. Unless you think Tequila is something to get warned about.

A/N: Today is February 6th and I’m already doing some Valentines ish chapters. Don’t mind me, I’m just being festive. Lol. | Feedback is always appreciated it! <3


Everyone had good days and bad days, it was something normal. In your case and for your sometimes extremely bad luck, things always came heightened. There weren’t good days, they were out of this world great days. But the bad days? They were the worst. Bad mornings like having some spilled coffee or forgetting your keys wasn’t your thing. No. Situations like this only backed up more your theory.

The universe must have single hand picked you to get the worst days. Sometimes you thought of going to see a psychic and getting into all the crystal meditation. Everything that helped your bad luck but yet again you ignored all those possibilities. You wouldn’t waste time in such things knowing that; it wasn’t bad luck, it must be bad karma. Out of all the days they could have picked to fire you, they picked today. Your twenty two birthday, not other day than February freaking fourth teen.

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Birthday Surprises

Request: anonymous: Hey! Could I request a Clint x Reader? Maybe where it’s his birthday and the reader surprises him with learning sign language? Thanks!!!

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Word count: 1.164

Warnings: very light making out

A/N: My first fic in 2017! Also please please send requests my inbox is emptyyy

Originally posted by steviepinkiepierogers

“And you’re sure, he won’t suspect something? I mean, I know that Clint can be really oblivious, but even he isn’t that stupid.” Natasha remarked and frowned. “No need to worry, I planned everything to the last detail.” You answered happily. “This night, when he sleeps, I’ll wake everyone up and tell them about the plan. He won’t hear a thing; he never wears his hearing aids to sleep.”

“And how will you hide this enormous cake? You know that he will find it eventually.” Your best friend scoffed and held up the giant, two-tier cake to support her argument. “I don’t think he will come to the kitchen today. He’s been sulking since this morning because he thinks I’m forgetting his birthday tomorrow.” you laughed, but at the same time felt also guilty.

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The Sword in the Stone

Anonymous said: Can you write an Adam one shot where the gang goes to an Arthurian festival and Adam pulls out Excalibur and gets to be “King” for a day and bosses around Sam and Dean (not too hard) and girls are coming into Adam so they don’t have to pay for anything (king perks) and puts down the reader but Adam makes her his queen?

A/N: Have I written a request featuring Charlie before? ‘Cause I don’t really think I have, so this would be my first time doing so. Anyhow, I had a lot of fun writing this, but it did turn out longer than I thought so I divided it in two, but fret not, as the other part is already written! I’ll post it later, and I hope you like it, dear anon!

Word count: 1,649

Pairing: Adam x Reader

Warnings: I think none.

Forever and Always (Part II)


“Remind me again, Dean, how exactly does this have to do with a case?” you asked from the backseat of the Impala, readjusting the heavy, medieval dress that you were wearing. “Because as Charlie mentioned over the phone that you might just be doing it for fun.”

Adam, who was seating by your side, snorted at your comment. You glanced at him, shooting him a grin before looking back at Dean.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, his fixated on the road as his brothers laughed and you smirked triumphantly.

Really, you wouldn’t have complained about going to an Arthurian festival, that is, if you hadn’t been coaxed by Charlie and your merry band of Winchesters into dressing up for the occasion. With the red, tight fabric that showed most of your cleavage to Adam, your crush, and the rest of the world, you had begun to regret ever agreeing to attend the festival.

But that wasn’t the main reason that made you want to opened the door of the Impala, jump out, and roll away from the whole situation. The main reason why you wanted to do that was the fact that the Winchesters decided to dress up as knights, and that included Adam, whose change of attire almost made you want to drool over him. The fake, metallic armory made his features look even sharper, his bright blue eyes and blonde hair standing out against the grey costume.

Once Sam and Adam had stopped laughing, the car fell in to silence again, the only sounds being the strangely low-volume music that Dean had on and the motor. You tried to get comfortable in your dress for the last time before leaning against the door on your side of the car, resting your head against the cool glass of the window, arms folded over your chest.

It took about another hour of silence in the car before Dean started to slow down, finally parking in front of the lot which was being used for the festival.

“Wow,” you said, unable to contain yourself as you leaned over to the front of the car, blushing a bit as your shoulder bumped against Adam’s.

Apart for the small booth where people paid to enter, there were dozens of tents and medieval-like structures situated in the lot. The festival had gone over the whole weekend, but today, at its final day, it was in full swing, with tons of walking about and having plenty of fun.

“C’mon, you three, we’re just here to stare,” Dean said, bringing you, Adam, and Sam out of your awe-struck phase.

“Right,” Sam mumbled, pushing his door open and following his older brother out of the car.

You moved to do the same, but Adam placed his hand on top of your arm, smiling at your confused look.

“Wait a sec’,” he said, quickly getting out of the car and walking to the other side, ignoring the knowing looks that his half-brothers shared.

Meanwhile, your confusion was solved when Adam opened your door from the outside, extending his hand towards you and grinning cheekily.

“Milady,” Adam said cordially, bowing down a little bit. You could feel your cheeks heating up, but laughed and took his hand anyways.

“What a gentleman you are, kind sir,” you teased, gripping Adam’s arm after he pulled you up and closed the door of the impala for you.

“Why, thank you,” he replied, walking with you to join Sam and Dean at the entrance of the festival.

“God, you two are slower than a mule,” Dean complained, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Let them be, Dean, you know how much Adam slows down when he’s with (Y/N),” Sam said, him and Dean sending Adam a smirk.

“What?” you asked, confused by Sam’s comment, but Adam quickly interrupted before either of the brothers could answer your question.

“Let’s just go inside,” he said, dragging you with him to the admission booth, Dean and Sam walking behind and laughing quietly.

You held onto Adam’s arm as you walked inside, taking a map of the place and scanning the small dots and symbols on it,

“Okay, Charlie said she would meet us by the ‘Fountain of Luck,’ whatever that is, so I say we head there first and then have a look around,” you suggested, pointing out the little dot on your map marked as the “Fountain of Luck” to the three men looking at the map over your shoulder.

Everybody agreed quite easily, the only bump being the fact that Dean wanted to stop by the bakery first to see if they had any pies, although he stopped arguing after you promised that you would go there later.

“You know, these costumes aren’t too bad,” he said as you walked through the sea of people, mainly looking at the women with their tight dresses on.

“Speak for your self, Lancelot, you’re not the one who has their chest looked at by every man you walk by,” you grumbled, scowling at the dirty looks and whistles that some of the people were giving you. You didn’t really know if it was your imagination, but Adam seemed to get even closer to you at this.

“(Y/N)’s got a point, Dean,” Sam agreed, and you noticed how he, Dean, and Adam were now also looking threateningly at anybody that cat called at you.

Sam and Dean had always been like your protective older brothers, so you didn’t find it odd for them to do that. But you felt a bit down when you realized that Adam was probably doing that for the same reason; he most likely than not only saw you as a sister, if not then only as a friend.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally spotted the vibrant shade of red hair that could only belong to Charlie. Sure enough, the woman turned around after hearing you call her name.

“(Y/N)! You look amazing!” Charlie grinned as you hugged her, her usual, cheery self managing to distract your thoughts away from the man next to you for a moment.

“Please, my outfit’s nothing compared to yours,” you laughed, returning the woman’s hug. She had a dark-green dress with a golden seam, and you had to give her credit for looking as if she had just stepped out of a classical fairy tale book.

“Oh, but I’m sure the young Milligan has only had eyes for you today,” she whispered, but before you could say anything else, she moved to greet the other guys, knowing she had made you blush.

Charlie was the only person you had confessed to about having a crush on Adam, and even she was one of your closest friends, you also felt like clapping a hand over her mouth every time she mentioned the way you felt about him.

“So, do you guys want to take a look around? I’ve been here for the whole three days, so I don’t really need to see anything in special,” Charlie spoke happily and quickly, raising her eyebrows for the briefest second when you linked arms with Adam again.

“Well, since Dean was acting like a five-year old, I told him that we would go get some pie after finding you,” you said, looking away from Charlie and to the map you were holding in your hand. “You know, even though we ate before we left the Bunker less than two hours ago.”

“Hey, you don’t have to eat if you’re not hungry.”

“Or me and (Y/N) could go see other stuff while you guys go there,” Charlie offered innocently, but you knew why she wanted to get you alone.

“You know, I could come with you guys. I’m not that hungry either,” Adam said casually, smiling at you.

Unknowingly to either of you, Charlie and the Winchesters glanced at each other, communicating a plan silently. To them, it was the most obvious thing in the world that you and Adam liked each other, and they even thought that you’d been dating behind their backs for a while. That is, until they found out that neither of you had a clue about the other person’s feelings.

“You know what? I’m actually feeling pretty hungry now,” Charlie said, nudging Sam, who quickly nodded.

“Yeah, um, I think you two should go look around and we’ll catch up to you later,” he chimed in, pulling a smirking Dean with him and Charlie as they left.

“They can be such weirdos sometimes,” you smiled, shaking your head in amusement.

Adam chuckled, his eyes wandering to your face, full of happiness and wonder as you started to look around you again, completely oblivious to his look of adoration. He had always thought you were cute, beautiful in fact, but then again, he had been falling for you since the moment he’d met you, so he didn’t know any other way of looking at you.

“This looks interesting,” you said, bringing Adam out of his thoughts. You could feel Adam’s breath against your neck as he leaned closer, checking out the small print you were pointing at.

“‘The Sword in the Stone,’” he read, his lips almost brushing your skin. You could feel your heart beating wildly, the small hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “What is it?”

“A contest, apparently,” you answered, trying to focus on your words, “to see who can pull Excalibur out of a stone, I guess, you know, like the story. There were some posters about it back at the entrance that said it started at three.”

“You want to try to pull a sword out of a stone with that dress?”

“Not me, genius,” you scoffed, a hint of a smile on your face, getting ready just in case Adam argued to your next words. “You, dummy!”

Life As We Know It

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: Bucky x reader where the reader works at a bar and bucky defends her when she is being harassed by some customers? And they start a secret friendship that *develops*?
Genre: Romance/fluff
Rating: T
Warnings: Swearings
4,505 words

Notes: AND I’M BACK. Finally. I’m so sorry for the lack of updates and the HUGE delay on writing the requests but I’ve been really mad with my writing lately, so… Hopefully I’ll get along with all of them now! Thank you so much for the request nonnie and I’m really really sorry about the wait! It’s not my best but I hope you like it anyway. <3 Enjoy!

Bucky makes a habit out of it without even meaning to. 

He’s been back in New York for months now, living in a small but cozy apartment that Steve insisted in buying so they could be home, in the good old Brooklyn neighborhood they originally grew up. 

Life is as good as it can be for someone like him – someone volatile and dangerous and untrustworthy. But he’s got a secure roof over his head and food and his best-friend back so all he can do is assume this is good enough. 

(Even though Steve confuses and annoys him sometimes.)

(But then again, something tells him that these feelings are familiar, specially towards the scrawny blond kid he occasionally dreams about.)

The only life Bucky knew was receiving orders, kill without questioning, have ‘medical’ attention, then get frozen. He doesn’t remember his previous life – just tiny glimpses of it – so this is all new to him. 

It’s strange to think like that and Bucky often feels stupid for it because he used to be smart, he knows that, but now he finds himself in the middle of simple and mundane things and it’s like he’s discovering the entire world. 

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HELLO HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVE EVE. THE FLUFF I AM SCREAMING this was supposed to be short as always i got carried away the fluff my god i’m just so happy. I think you guys will really like this one!!!!

Warnings: Fluff, language

Every inch of the tower was decked to the nines. It had been for almost a month. As soon as it was socially acceptable to decorate for Christmas, it was done. Everyone happily chipped in, taking on some special job. 

Tony invited Rhodey to help him put up the Christmas lights on the outside of the tower. They were perfect for the job because their suits allowed them to fly around and clip bright white lights on the highest floors of the tower. It was probably bright enough to be seen from space. 

Natasha had taken over the fireplace and the windows, hanging all the stockings with care and surrounding them with garland, and setting a candle on every windowsill. Showing off her ninja skills, she had climbed on the hearth to hang a huge wreath in the middle of the wall. 

Sam baked cookies every weekend. He went through batches and batches of dough and frosting to keep the hungry Avengers satisfied all week. The delicious smell of vanilla and chocolate chip always roamed the halls on Saturdays and Sundays during December. 

You, Steve, and Bucky tackled the tree. Tony insisted on a twenty footer, so it took the three of you all day. Decorating the tree was always your favorite part, and apparently Steve’s too because he begged to help. It even brought a smile to Bucky’s face when you and Steve dragged him into helping. 

Steve wound yards and yards of white lights around the tree while you tackled the tinsel. Eventually Bucky lifted you up on his shoulders so you could reach the top half of the tree. While you were up there, Bucky handed you the star and you had the honor of topping off the pine. 

Almost everyone had collected ornaments throughout the years and they all had their place on the tree. Steve and Bucky however did not, so you took them to Macy’s and had them pick out a couple. They thanked you with wide smiles when they hung them on the tree. 

Everyone had their job and the place was perfectly decorated. But you didn’t know that Bucky had taken on a secret job. One he had been doing for weeks, and the whole team had caught on except you.

You and Bucky had grown close in your months in the tower. But you had no idea how much your quiet conversations, sparring practice, and warm hugs meant to him. He always looked forward to eating lunch with you in the kitchen, joining you in the gym, and watching late night movies with you on the couch. 

He was always so quiet, you would have never guessed how much he treasured your every smile, laugh, and kind word. 

You also would have never guessed that the sprigs of mistletoe around every corner were for you. He had strategically placed them in spots he knew he would find you in throughout the day. 

There was one above the cabinet you hid your favorite candy in. One above your favorite spot on the couch. One above your seat at the table. One on the door of your room. One above the water fountain in the gym. He had thought about taking that one down, he didn’t want to kiss you when he was covered in sweat.

The team has caught on about a week ago, and every time you neared a sprig they rooted for Bucky to plant one on your unsuspecting lips. However, every time he mustered up the courage to kiss you, you would walk away, completely oblivious. 

After almost a month of chasing you with the little plants, he promised himself he would finally kiss you on Christmas Eve. He didn’t want to ruin the holiday if something went wrong, but you loved Christmas, and maybe if he did it right, it would make the day even more special.

On Christmas Eve night, everyone was huddled around the television watching White Christmas. He knew the old movie was one of your favorites, so he insisted that was what the team watched that night.

He sat down next to you in your favorite seat on the couch and snuck a peek at the mistletoe above you. Right when he was about to lean in, you jumped up and padded over to the kitchen in the fuzzy socks he bought you when you brought him and Steve to Macy’s. 

He leaned into the back of the couch in defeat until Steve swatted his hand at him, silently telling him to go after you. Bucky rolled his eyes and jogged after you as the opening credits rolled. You were fishing your secret bag of candy out of the cabinet below another sprig of the little green plant. His heart was racing. He should do it now before you moved again. 

Too late. 

You were already walking over to your seat at the table. Luckily, that was another spot he had hung a mistletoe. You stood there cutting the bag of candy open with a pair of scissors. Bucky couldn’t help but stare at the way your perfect hair fell around your face and shone in the light coming from the tree. 


You looked up at him and he got too lost in your eyes. 

“I, um, uh…”

Your eyes shot toward the movie. It had started. You grabbed his hand and whispered to him, “Come on, Buck, we don’t wanna miss the beginning.”

You dragged him toward the couch, but before you got there, your fuzzy socks slipped on the wooden floor. You caught yourself, but at the expense of your candy. The bag went flying and candy was strewn all over the floor. “Shit!” you whispered. 

Bucky could only chuckle at you. You were so damn cute. He helped you pick up your candy and put it back in the bag. His hand touched yours and the spark he felt gave him the courage he needed. 

Right there on the floor he pulled you into him and pressed his lips to yours. He felt your shock but he hung on. Maybe you would like this once you weren’t so surprised.  

His wish came true. You dropped your bag of candy on the floor and lifted yourself up on your knees, your lips never leaving his. Your fingers gently ran through his hair and settled on the nape of his neck as your other hand felt his heart fluttering under in chest.

He pulled you flush to him, his hands holding tight to your waist. His other hand raised to push your hair behind your ear and to cup your jaw. His lips were soft and warm, pushing and pulling with yours in a perfect manner. His scent was intoxicating and his body was strong and safe. 

He didn’t know, but this was your Christmas wish too.

His large hand left your waist and you felt his shoulder lift. In question, you pulled your lips away from his and followed his arm up into the air and noticed what he was holding. 

“Mistletoe.” He declared.  

Everywhere,” Sam said from his spot on the couch.

You looked up and finally saw the ceiling littered with sprigs. Above your secret cabinet, your chair at the table, your spot on the couch. You laughed with astonishment.

“Hey lovebirds, you’re missing the movie,” Tony called. 

Bucky helped you pick up your candy and led you over to the couch. You sat in his arms, snuggling up to him as close as possible. You looked over to him to see he was already eyeing you. You leaned in and kissed his lips once again. 

“Mistletoe.” You said, grinning from ear to ear. 



@usannika @whatsbetterthanfantasy @dontstopwiththelyin @the-renaissance @anitavalija @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @annieluc @hip5t3r-m3rmaaidd-biitchhh @aenna-4 @babiedeer @blueswallow5 @heismyhunter @waikimikey @mizzzpink @kennadance14 @decemberftw @feelmyroarrrr

Mistletoe | Dean Winchester & Reader.

Word Count // 2.9k
Warnings // language.
Reader Gender // female.
Pairings // reader & dean.

Summary // dean, needing a clever way to make y/n fall for him, tries to impress her by decorating the bunker. of course, he has a few tricks up his sleeve.
“Sammy,” Dean called, running through the hallway. He’d hung a wreath on literally every door in the place, put holly-patterened placemats on the table, bought friggin’ Santa coasters and festive beer koozies, and picked out a stupid tree. He even wrapped the tree in garlands, lights, and tinsel and hung all the ornaments on it himself. Usually, he’s not exactly a Christmasy kind of person, but Y/N was. She’d left on a solo hunt a couple of days prior and he’d decided to decorate the bunker for her. Of course, he was only missing one thing: the mistletoe.

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Stars And Strawberry Ice-Cream Part 1

Summary: Sam asks you for advice because he is planning a date for a girl. A little heartbroken ‘cause you always had a crush on the younger Winchester you agree to help him. But little do you know that the special girl he is asking out is closer to you then you would’ve imagined

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester (very briefly)

Warnings: none this is pure fluff but part two will be smut

Words: 1868

A/N: This idea started out as a Dean x Reader but I think it suits Sam way better to do something like that, don’t worry though Dean will be returning soon. This is also the first part of a two part thing, the second part will mostly be smut and coming to you next week. If you have any requests feel free to feed my inbox other than that enjoy :)

It was an actually nice day at the bunker, something very rare. The last hunt had gone perfectly, like a good studied play, everyone knew where to be and what to do. Now the three of you were calming down, the adrenaline rush wearing off after a long drive back home and a night of sleep. But the glow of satisfaction from a well done job still lingered on all of you.

Dean was up earlier than usual, making pancakes for Sam and you. Waking up to the heavenly smell and following it to the kitchen you caught Dean singing to “Simple Man”, a sight that was just hilarious. Sam joined you only a few minutes later; he looked like he was starving which he probably was after a long jog.

After that you spend some time with the boys, chatting about everything and nothing. When Dean declared he’d be working on the impala all day, you decided that that was your queue to go to the library. There were a few things you wanted to read and catch up on so that would be your plan for the day off. Sam however acted a little weird, saying that he would prepare something but not going into detail.

A few hours had passed since you had sat down in the library; you somehow had ended up reading “The Wizard Of Oz” instead of focusing on “Ancient spells, their side effects, dangers and how to distinguish them between black and white magic”. You couldn’t say that it had been a bad decision to lie down the almost one hundred years old tome.

Just as you reached a particular interesting part of the book, Sam’s voice brought you back to reality. “Here!” you called, quickly finishing the paragraph so you wouldn’t be distracted by the book when he wanted to talk to you.

“The wizard of Oz?” Sam crooked his eyebrows, “What about the ‘important’ research you wanted to do?” he teased.

You closed the book and laid it down on the table, turning in your chair so that you were fully facing Sam. For just a split second you forgot what you were talking about, just how he was standing there was so distracting. With a coffee mug in one hand and a plain black t-shirt, showing of his muscles and broad shoulder even more than usual. He looked down at you, a strand of hair falling towards his face and in front of his eyes. “Hey, (Y/N)! You still with me?” Sam’s fingers snapped in front of your eyes, ripping your from your daydream.

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That Damned Tattoo- DeanxReader

I wrote another one shot. I seriously love doing these. Gimme prompts guys! I have quite a few that I’ve already written for my own amusement that I’m trying to polish up to post.This is one of my favorites, because who doesn’t love a jealous Dean?


Special Guest Appearance by the Ghostfacers!


-heavy passionate kissing

-seriously long


Dean placed his hand on your lower back and kissed the curve of your neck and trailed up to your mouth. Your fingers ran up his muscles and dug into him. He leaned you back onto the bed, releasing his lips from yours to pull your shirt up and over your head. He lingered his touch against your bare skin in awe. Again, he placed his mouth against your neck to breathe you in then continued gracing his lips against you.

“Dean…” you moaned.


”Dean!” His eyes shot open as he woke up from falling asleep on the couch of the motel room. Standing above him, you plopped the manila folder full of the information you and Sam collected while he was in dreamland onto his chest then walked across the room to the bathroom. You had been working with the boys for years. They both became your best friends. The three of you could talk and joke around with each other for hours on end. At the same time, you and Sam were closer than you and Dean since both of you enjoyed lore and research. It was probably also because there was a sexual tension between you and Dean that made both of you a bit uncomfortable. Both of you felt it, but assumed the other didn’t. Sam caught on but never said anything to either of you. He almost enjoyed watching it play out. Secretly, he wished you’d just kiss already. You stepped out of Dean’s line of sight to use the mirror to take your hair down from the messy bun it was up in.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean sat up and moved uncomfortably as to hide the erection his dream caused him.

“Convenient store across the street for beer,” you called to him still pulling out bobby pins. “We think we found out what’s tying our spirit friend here and where to find it, but we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” You stepped back into Dean’s sight. Your hair fell curled, framing your face. He had to catch his breath at the sight of you. Again, he moved in attempt to hide the bulge forming in his jeans. You were completely oblivious to his struggle.

“We aren’t the only ones here looking for Ben Tibbet. Those damn Ghostfacer kids are here, Ed and… ah fuck, what’s his name? Harry? Plus the girl and the kid with the camera. Anyway, Sam and I saw them when we were leaving the library.”

While you spoke, Dean was able to distract himself from you by looking at the contents of the folder you gave him. You thought about how gorgeous his face was when his eyes concentrated. “Son of a bitch. You would think they would stop after that kid Corbett died.” He studied one of the papers then looked up at you. “A pocket watch? We’re looking for a pocket watch?”

“Yep.” You started to smile at him and his heart skipped. Just then, Sam entered with a 6 pack of beer.

“Did you tell him about our company?” Sam chuckled. He was pissed they were there too, but knowing how it would crawl under Dean’s skin was still comical to him.

“Yeah, I heard.” Dean said already annoyed at the thought of them. “Why don’t we talk about the case? A pocket watch. Where is the damn thing?” Dean was a little snappier than he intended to be with his brother. Sure he was annoyed with the amateurs exploiting the things you fought so hard to keep concealed, but he was also annoyed that Sam cut his time alone with you short and in truth you were too. It wasn’t his fault though and you both knew that. Sam sensed his brother’s urgency and attributed it to wanting to get the job done as quickly as possible.

“Ok well get this.” He pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards, resting his arms on the back. “We know that Ben Tibbet was cremated, so it’s not his bones, but, he has a memorial site in the old house’s backyard. It was built by his son, Gregory. A bench, a tree, some flowers and bushes… And, a cement podium with his dad’s watch encased in it.”

“So smash the podium, melt the watch, and we’re done.” Dean leaned back on the couch. “Sounds easy enough. We just got to avoid those fucking Hollywood wannabes.”

You sat on the other end of the couch opposite of Dean. He straightened up a little. You noticed but brushed it off. “Not that simple. Guess whose staying in the Tibbet Place.”

“Damnit, you’ve got to be kidding.”

Sam sighed. “I mean Dean it makes it harder, but not impossible. We just wait until they leave and go in, take the watch and take care of it.”

You yawned and stretched, your shirt pulling up a little to reveal a sliver of your stomach and the top half of the anti-possession tattoo that rested on your hipbone. Dean’s eyes trailed across your exposed skin. You relaxed then jumped up unaware of Dean’s eyes. “I’m gonna get a shower.” You patted his leg and ruffled Sam’s hair as you walked passed each of them. Once you were out of earshot in the bathroom, Sam looked at his brother.

“You’re drooling.”

“I… what?” Dean shook his head a bit and met Sam’s glance. The taller Winchester was smiling mockingly. “Was not.”

Sam let out a slight laugh. “Ha, sure.”

“Ok, so what’s the plan?” You and the boys were in the Impala parked outside the Tibbet Place. Through the windows, you could see the sorry excuse for hunters’ set up.

Sam started to answer when the girl, Maggie, pointed a camera towards the car and called out to the group. “Shit.” Dean got out of the car and Ed and Harry started their way across the drive, Spruce not far behind to record the encounter of course. You and Sam followed suit.

“Oh the Winchesters. What a pleasant surprise. Not.” Harry was trying to be intimidating which of course didn’t work. All three of the Ghostfacers then noticed you.

“If you want to talk about pleasant…” Spruce winked from behind his camera. You rolled your eyes.

Ed stood in front of you, mouth agape. “Hello,” he did a slight bow. “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance once again Y/N.” He held out his hand and you took it to shake only to be greeted by surprise when his lips met your skin. Dean got red with anger and jealousy. The last time you met them, Ed was completely infatuated with you. He shamelessly and awkwardly flirted with you every chance he got. It bothered you but at the same time it was nice to get some sincere affection instead of just being hit on by drunks at bars. Plus, the only time Dean ever seemed protective over you outside of a job was when you were being hit on.

“Alright, alright.” He moved between you and Ed which made him let go of you. “You need to pack up your crew and get the hell out of dodge.”

“What makes you think we’re going to do that?” Harry chimed in. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t know, because last time you put yourself in a situation like this you got someone killed.” Sam’s height alone was enough to make him much more intimidating than the Ghostfacers.

“We’re doing this in honor of Corbett. He would have wanted it.” As Harry retorted, Spruce angled his camera at your chest to capture the cleavage peaking the top of your shirt. You pushed the camera away.

“Turn that fucking thing off before I shove it up your ass.” Both Winchester laughed, Dean more to hide his disgust of them.

Unfortunately, the only way to get to the watch to gank the spirit was to play along with the Ghostfacers until one of you could get away without being noticed. Tibbet showed up a few times, trying to off someone but with the salt guns and iron rods, you and Dean were able to ward him off while Sam got the watch. Ed continuously flirted with you and professed his love. It was decided that playing along was the best strategy, causing your gruff hunting partner to grow increasingly enraged.

“Has anybody ever told you that you are the most beautiful creature to walk earth?” Dean rolled his eyes. You politely smiled. “No I mean it. Look at you.”

“Thank you Ed. That is very sweet.” You were getting annoyed too but didn’t want to ruin the plan. Sam would be back any minute.

“Come on.” Dean led the group to the door to the hallway. He held it open as the group walked through. First was Harry, then Maggie and Spruce. You followed him and Ed was close behind. As you walked through the door, Ed placed his hand on your hip, a fingertip touching your tattoo. You jumped at the feeling and before you could react, Dean had Ed pinned against the wall. His forearm was against Ed’s neck. “You keep your hands off her. You hear me? I will fucking rip your throat out with my bare hands.”

“Dean.” He ignored you.

“I said do you hear me?” He pushed his arm against him harder. You put your hand on Dean’s back, your touch causing him to drop his pressure on Ed.

“Yeah…I- I hear you…” Ed stammered out the door. Sam squeezed in passed him.

“What happened?”

Dean’s demeanor was still stiff and angry. “Nothing. You get it?”

Sam looked at you and you shrugged, slightly turned on, but confused. “Uh, yeah I got it. Let’s go burn the damn thing.”

Dean sparked a fire in the fireplace. Sam tossed the watch in and the three of you watched it disintegrate into the flames. You and the boys left the Ghostfacers, no objection to them.

In the car, Dean was silent. Sam kept turning around as if to ask you what his deal was but honestly, you had no answer. You would mouth ‘I don’t know’ and he’d glance back at his brother with concern. You got to the motel and Dean bee-lined to the room without a word still. Sam stopped short of the door. “I’m going to pick up some food. See if you can’t figure out what’s wrong with Grumpy.”

“Alright, I’ll try.”  You gave him a quick hug and opened the door. Dean was downing a fresh beer. “Dean what the hell was that back there with Ed?” He didn’t answer, just continued to drink the beer until there was none left. “Dean.” He opened another and took a swig. “Dean, hello? Answer me.”

He looked down and the bottle in his hands. “Couldn’t do it.” His gaze never met yours.

“Couldn’t do what Dean? What the hell is up with you?”

He was quiet for a long time but then looked up and locked eyes with you as he spat his words out with a hint of anger and hardened face. “Douchebags buying you drinks is one thing. Even flirting with you or talking about taking you home. Fine, I can deal with it because at the end of the day, I know where you’re gonna end up and who you’re gonna be leaving with.  But Ed…” He trailed off. You stood there in the shock of the moment. “When I saw his hand on you, on that damned tattoo, I broke. We’ve been working together for how long? How many times have I thought about MY hand grazing it? And this wannabe punk comes in and has the balls to put his hands on you right in front of me? Look, I’m sorry.” He started to turn away then turned back to again. “Actually no. I’m not sorry. I don’t regret it and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I’m done standing by and watching other sorry excuses for men trying to bed you. They don’t really care about you. Not like I do!”

You were at a loss for words. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you spoke the only word you could muster up. “Dean…”

He put his beer down and started advancing towards you slowly. His words softened to a more loving and gentle tone. “Y/N… I can’t do it anymore because as far as I’m concerned, you belong with me. I’m the one protecting you. I’m the one holding you up when you’re too drunk to walk. I’m the one making sure you’re as happy and as safe as possible in this life. I’m the one who can’t take my eyes off of you when you walk into a room.” At this point, he was right in front of you and placing his rough hands on your arms. “Y/N, I’m the one who loves you.” You looked into his emerald eyes as they looked into yours and down to your lips. Without a thought, he kissed you hard and passionately. Your lips danced together. Dean put his hand on the small of your back and pulled you against him just like he had in his dream earlier that day. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through the light brown hairs on the back of his neck. After a couple minutes of the fiery suppressed passion, you pulled away from his mouth but still held on to the closeness of the hug. You put your foreheads together and both of you matched grins.

“Dean, I love you too.” You kissed again, quicker this time as Sam walked in. Dean kept you close, not allowing you to escape his embrace simply because his kid brother had entered. You looked slightly embarrassed until Sam put the fast food bag on the table and started a slow clap.

“It’s about damn time!” He grinned wildly. “I was starting to think I’d have to tell you both myself.”

Both you and Dean looked at him and spoke at the same time. “Shut up!”

Who to Choose?


Request: Can you do one where Castiel and dean are both fighting for your attention and trying to impress you, and cas acts really cute and confused.

Request: Hello! Today is my birthday! (Thank gosh golly for it landing on a Monday!) Anyway. If its not too much to ask, could you do a DeanXReaderXCas and it’s the readers birthday and Dean and Cas “fight” (not actually a fight, mind you) at who gets to give her the present they got for her first. I just think that’s be super cute. Okay, thanks bye!

Request: I was wondering if you could write one about the reader (a female hunter) that can’t choose between Dean or Castiel and has both of their affections. She can end up with either Dean or Castiel or maybe she ends up alone?

A/N: There’s a bit of a selection at the end…

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