As much as I absolutely love ‘Sam called shotgun’ I think it might be more likely that they squabbled over who would be sitting in the back and who would have to sit with their back exposed to someone they don’t trust.
And Bucky won.
So Sam just spent 2 hours with The Winter Soldier in his blind spot. No wonder he refuses to move his chair. I, too, would be a little sulky and annoyed.
Requested: Yes! Here’s a prequel to Therapy based on Khalid’s song Cold Blooded. You can findthe first part here!
Summary: It’s a week before the game and Harry finally decides to do something about the tension between him and YN. Be it for better or for worse, they don’t know.
Rating: R for language and vague smut
A/N: I’d love to write more of this series if anyone would like to read it! If you’d like to read anything else, feel free to slide into my ask box, requests are open!
He had fucking dreamt about you.
You had been in his dreams.
Usually, Harry’s dreams were a calm time for him to process the day’s events, or think about new short film ideas. But now even his subconscious was tainted with you.
He remembered his dream from the moment he woke up, sitting up immediately and rubbing his eyes harshly. You had been on top of him, in his dream. Your eyes had been tightly shut, your mouth hanging open and your head thrown back as your hips ground down into his.
It had felt so real, he remembered how your skin felt on his hands and how your mouth felt on his own. He had woken up and for the first few seconds had wondered why you weren’t there beside him like he’d expected after having his dream.
But now he was fully awake, thirty minuets before his alarm was set to go off. And he was alone, with nobody but himself to take care of the problem that the dream has created.
He was hard. Painfully so.
And so he found himself thinking about you in his bed and in the shower. He couldn’t get you out of his mind no matter what he did. He thought of you while getting dressed and almost failed to notice that he initially put his shirt on backwards. He burnt his finger on the toaster as he rushed out of the house towards his brother’s car, already filled with Tom and Sam.
Harry had missed Sam calling shotgun, of course, due to being lost in thought.
By the time he got out to the car after Tom blared the horn multiple times, he was forced to find a spot in the backseat.
At first, Tom and Sam bickered over what radio station to play, and for once Harry offered no input into the discussion.
Tom, being the oldest and priding himself on being a bit more mature, noticed Harry’s quiet mood.
“What crawled up your ass this morning?” He inquired, turning the radio down a few notches and raising an eyebrow at Harry from the front seat, making eye contact with the mirror that pointed back through the car.
There was genuine concern in Tom’s voice, but his phrasing kept his concern at the casual, older brother level that everyone was comfortable and familiar with.
“Nothin’, why don’t ya keep your eyes on the road?” Harry quipped quietly, pushing toast into his mouth to avoid having to talk about anything this early in the morning.
Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly but shifted on his seat to face the road as Harry suggested.
“I bet it’s YN, did she win that award you guys were going up against each other for? For photography club?” Sam suggested, turning in his seat to examine his twin, who remained solemn in the backseat, his legs stretching to either side of the space, his backpack next to him on the seat.
Harry shook his head quickly.
“No,” he spoke with toast still filling his mouth, crumbs flying.
“Oh, well what’d she do this time? You have that look,” Sam was trying to help, Harry knew he was, but he was beginning to feel obsessed with YN, and now the last thing he wanted to do was talk about her more.
“What look?” Harry questioned flatly, trying to change the subject even for a moment.
“The look you get when you’re thinking really deeply about something,” Sam explained cavalierly, turning back around in his seat with a knowing smile plastered on his face.
Harry tried to get the words out as quickly as possible and when they left his mouth they tripped over each other. “I-I don’t get a fuckin- what look are you even talking about? That doesn’t make any sense-”
“Relax,” Sam said with a laugh, Tom chuckled in the front seat and briefly turned around to view his defensive brother.
“Harry, chill, mate,”
Harry sighed and realized that he was literally on the edge of his seat. He sat back heavily and Tom turned fully around again to face the road without having to be prompted. Sam held back a knowing smile.
“I’s not a bad look, can just tell you’re thinking really hard, ’s'all,”
Harry nodded, ingesting the information.
“So, what’re you thinkin’ so hard about then?” Sam asked gently, his body contorted so he could see his twin fully.
Harry shrugged. “Just tired, thinking ‘bout midterms and m’ project for photography club,”
Sam nodded. “You’re in Morrison’s class aren’t ya this semester? His midterm kicks ass,” Sam spoke with an air of sympathy and Harry nodded, raising his eyebrows in acknowledgment. “Yeah, it does, ‘specially when you 'aven’t been paying attention for the last six weeks,” he added with a small laugh.
“Why haven’t- oh, isn’t YN in that class with ya?” The knowing smile had returned and Sam’s eyes twinkled, creases appearing near his eyes as his cheeks raised slightly.
Harry answered 'yes’ but quickly added. “But that’s not why I’m not paying attention, I don’t give a fuck about her, okay?” He tried to lie but even he knew from the moment the phrase left his mouth that it didn’t sound at all convincing.
Tom raised an eyebrow in the rear view mirror at Harry and Sam held back a laugh. They tried to keep it in but within seconds both of his brothers were laughing so hard Harry almost worried the car would swerve.
“'I don’t give a fuck about her’, yeah, that’s convincing, Harry, you should really be acting in these short films you make,” Tom giggled. Sam mocked him again and Harry just slumped in his seat, rolling his eyes once again this morning.
“I don’t,” he whined.
“Oh, but you so clearly do,” Tom countered with a laugh, his face flushed.
“Haven’t you guys been letting sexual tension build for like, five years now? She’s in your grade isn’t she?” Tom inquired lightly, still catching his breath from laughing.
“There isn’t any sexual tension, dumbasses, we just don’t get along,” Harry said, his arms crossing.
“Oh, I don’t get along with plenty of people, but I don’t freak out when I hear their name,” Tom snickered, Sam continued to stare into the backseat.
“I didn’t freak out,” Harry mumbled defensively.
“Alrighty then,” Tom replied with a shrug, unconvinced.
Sam, however, continued to look at him and Harry felt like he was under a microscope under the caring eye of his brother.
“So, if I happen to run into YN at lunch today, should I say hello? Maybe invite her to dinner tonight?” Tom continued to tease, both hands on the wheel and eyes on the road, glancing back every so often to admire the product of his teasing, Harry’s clear annoyance.
“Shut up.” Harry groaned.
Tom and Sam continued to crack jokes and all Harry wanted them to do was leave the topic of YN well enough alone.
By the time they pulled into the school Harry never wanted to hear about YN again, but Tom and Sam refused to let it go.
Tom messed with his hair teasingly as they entered the building. Sam started composing a song about how Harry was going to do something about the hypothetical sexual tension he suffered from, tapping on lockers to the rhythm of the song and grinning to himself as Tom joined in for the chorus.
Before they could, Harry lashed out, his voice cutting through the air like a dart.
“Can you guys shut the fuck up already?”
Harry winced as his voice came out much sharper than he’d anticipated. His brothers immediately stopped, eyes widening. “Alrighty then,” Tom said, backing away a few inches from Harry with his hands raised in mock surrender. Sam stopped the shuffle he had done in time to his song and huffed, shoving his hands in his pocket, letting his shoulders roll forward a bit.
“Sorry, I just,” Harry didn’t know what to say.
“Why do you care? Isn’t YN like, cold blooded according to you?”
At the very moment the words left Tom’s mouth, YN appeared in front of them.
Walking out of a door, YN’s path intersected with that of the three eldest Holland boys, and before any of them could say anything, jaws dropping in surprise.
YN shoved past them.
She made sure her shoulders angrily knocked against Harry’s when he turned around to say something in protest, she continued to walk backwards, facing him as she moved away.
“Oh, hope you didn’t get frostbite there, Holland, with my cold bloodedness and all,” she rolled her eyes and pivoted to walk forward, shaking her head and trying to clear her mind of the incident. YN couldn’t even recall why they had this dumb feud thing going on in the first place.
If she was honest with herself, Harry was cute, and funny, and talented. He was driven and smart and she definitely felt something for him. She just wasn’t quite sure what she felt, something passionate, something that lay between overwhelming rage and deep friendship.
The two of them went through the day glaring at each other at every possibility. The tension between them had seemingly reached a breaking point, the two of them tip-toeing around each other while still making no effort to settle things down between them.
After school they both turned in their projects for the contest that they’d been preparing for weeks, photography may have been an extracurricular but that meant very little in regards to how much it matter to both YN and Harry.
“Hope you brought tissues for when my project wins, love,” Harry snipped at her on his way to the teacher’s desk to turn in his large paper covered in his hard work, rolled up like a scroll to protect it from any harm throughout the day.
“I hope you brought a change of heart for when you’re begging me to at least pretend like you were any kind of competition for me,” YN snapped back.
The two of them went about their day until the end of photography club, when everyone packed up their bags, waving goodbye to each other and making their way from the room at a leisurely pace.
Of course, YN and Harry were the only ones left in the room, both scrambling to get their things together so they could avoid seeing each other again for the day.
YN hiked her backpack up onto her shoulders and quickly made her way from the classroom, bidding the teacher at the desk a good afternoon before letting the door close behind her.
It didn’t have a chance to close, however, as Harry was hot on her heels.
“Hey- YN, stop,” Harry requested firmly, following her fast pace down the halls towards the front doors of the school.
“No, what do you want, Holland, make it quick,” YN spat back angrily, still sore from the comments she’d heard coming from his siblings that morning.
“Just, just stop for a fucking second, YN, god,” Harry was growing tired physically and mentally of the chase they always seemed to be participating in. He was tired of chasing and being chased and tired of having YN constantly running through his head.
“What do you want, Holland, just spit it out already, you’d think that if you could talk shit about me then you could at least say something to my face.”
YN whipped her body around in a tight pivot, so fast, that Harry crashed into her abrasively, the two of them knocking together like magnets that instantly rejected the other’s charge.
They separated quickly, Harry nearly panting at the quick speed he’d had to maintain to keep up with YN mixed with their sudden run-in.
“I-” suddenly, Harry went completely mute, unsure of what to say. YN looked at him expectantly.
“What, did my cold-blooded ice queen powers freeze up your vocal chords or something?”
She snarled, letting her eyes roll dramatically with a shake of her head before beginning to walk away again. Harry caught her arm in his hand and clutched on for dear life.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t put that phrase in his head on purpose of anything okay, I’m sorry,” Harry said, quietly at first but gaining volume when he thought of how ridiculous the whole situation was.
YN nodded, seeming a bit underwhelmed.
This only fueled the fire that burned in Harry’s chest whenever he thought of YN, without thinking he grasped her face in his hands and brought their faces together suddenly. Their lips pushed together with a force Harry could have never imagined.
He pushed her up against the wall, her backpack falling down her arms, allowing her back to become flush with the wall due to the pressure Harry’s body pushed on her.
Her hands found his tee-shirt and grasped onto the hem in closed fists, pulling his hips to meet her own. She rolled her hips, applying pressure and didn’t need to do much investigating to figure out how hard Harry was beneath the tight jeans he was wearing.
Before they knew it, they were nipping at the other’s lips, and sucking on each other’s necks, both of them trying to keep in their moans and whimpers and praying that nobody would walk through the hallway and see them. YN’s legs now wrapped around Harry’s waist, her arms around his neck and her back still against the wall.
They stopped for a moment to catch their breath and before Harry could say anything, YN panted out:
“If I was really cold blooded, I’d leave you hanging,” she reached down between his legs and applied just enough pressure to make Harry’s stomach drop and his head fall to her shoulder. “Your car or mine, Holland?”
And that was how the two of them found themselves with nearly no clothing on, in the back of Harry’s car. Harry had never been more grateful for his car coming out of the shop than he was now. His parents had dropped it off midday so his brothers wouldn’t have to wait for him after photography club, and he couldn’t believe his luck. YN had been on her knees for him in the cramped backseat, working magic on him with her mouth, her tongue and her lips.
Now, his hands were roaming YN’s body with a fervor he’d never felt before, their hips rolling into each other’s with a speed he barely thought possible, YN’s moans synonymous with music in his mind.
They kissed and bit at each other, YN’s fingers leaving slight scratches on Harry’s back. She sank down on him and swiveled her hips around feverishly, bringing them to both finish quickly, with her legs quivering and her head thrown back, eyes shut, just like in his dream. This was the first time Harry had heard YN call him by his first name, it had never sounded so good in his ears before, he hoped he would never forget how his name sounded coming from her mouth in breathy moans.
As they pulled their clothes back on, Harry had never been more excited about the dull sting that his shirt brought to his back due to the new scratches he couldn’t wait to examine in the mirror when he got home.
“Well, I guess that was an adequate apology,” YN said with a smirk, pulling her clothes on with great speed.
They both knew this was an understatement, YN had come at least twice in the time they’d shared together, her legs still a bit wobbly as she walked from Harry’s car to her own, getting in it and driving away before she could question their actions with Harry in such close proximity.
What the two of them knew without doubt, though, was that there was no way things could go back to the way they were before.
I really want to (finally) start season 3 of Warehouse 13, but I’m also trying to catch up on the shows I missed while catsitting, and catch up on The Good Place now that I’ve binged, and also write fic… and also I really want to rewatch Sense8 because “Impossibility is a kiss away from reality” and “I will burn this building down before I let them touch that beautiful brain” and the proposal!! And my poly faves making a home together and picking out a giant poly bathtub and Daniela being so strong and good and willing to put up with too much shit for Lito’s career’s sake and Hernando having none of it. There is so much tv and not enough time
do you ever hear a song, or a few, and you would swear it was about your OTP? Now i’m not talking au’s in particular or it simply just reminding you of your OTP. i mean, those songs that you would actually swear were written specifically for your OTP because they’re just so precise without you having to interpret it a certain way and you kinda just sit there thinking to yourself,
“you are trash, i know you are, i know my kind when i hear it”
Sitting here thinking about the Bucky & Sam dynamic in CACW, especially taking into account the Sam Wilson we first meet in CA:TWS.
Sam’s a counselor. He works at the VA. Sam is capable of snap judgments about people, like understanding immediately that Steve Rogers is a friend who will put up with as much shit as he gives. Sam lives to banter with his buddies and Steve is his soulmate in that regard, among others.
Sam’s also very protective of Steve. As I watch how suspicious he is of Bucky in both films, it makes sense on every level. Sam knows how dangerous the Winter Soldier is, and he knows how unstable people with PTSD are. He doesn’t know which Bucky they’re dealing with.
And yet somehow in CACW, we go from suspicious, should-we-trust-him Sam to I’m-gonna-give-him-so-much-shit-all-day Sam. How did that happen? How did he make that transition? Was it the moment Bucky said, “Your mom’s name is Sarah?” Or was it when Bucky laughed a little as he actually trolled Steve a little, “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”
Or was it while they were trying to find a decent get-away car and had to settle on a VW Bug. I suspect it may have started with the newspaper jibe and then developed on the car hunt.
I suspect Sam called shotgun and laughed when Bucky immediately dove to protect Steve because he figured if Sam’s yelling, “SHOTGUN!”, it means they’re about to be attacked, because the whole “I got shotgun” game to claim the front seat by the driver in modern times didn’t come about until the 1960s. It’s not a slang phrase Bucky’s likely to have ever heard. So, cue Protect Steve Mode On and he’s atop Steve, bracing for the blast he’ll gladly take if it means Steve lives.
In the shocked silence of Nothing Happens, Sam would be doubled over laughing.
Steve would be confused, then explain to Bucky what “I got shotgun” meant, while spitting dust out of his mouth from where a metal hand against the back of his head pressed his face down protectively against the dirt.
Bucky would be… annoyed and embarrassed and giving his best attempt at a Winter Soldier glare at Sam, which really wouldn’t be all that effective because he’s, well, just Bucky right now. He’s mad, but not Empty-Eyed Brainwashed Assassin mad. And Sam sees it, sees the softness in Bucky’s eyes that he’s learned pretty quickly means that Bucky’s still Bucky. He puts two and two together and realizes that nothing short of HYDRA showing up to repeat whatever they did to trigger the Soldier is gonna make Bucky stop protecting Steve.
That’s good enough for him.
So he smirks and makes a grand gesture of holding the car door open for Bucky and then he starts laughing again when he watches Bucky try to shoehorn his big muscly self into that tiny back seat, probably catching his hair on the door and muttering ‘ouch’ and mumbling curses in at least four languages.
And then Sam gets in and shoves his seat back until it rams into Bucky’s knees. And refuses to move it forward even though every bump in the road means a shot to both kidneys because super soldier knees are hard. He takes it, because until they know for sure who Bucky is nowadays, he’s the alpha dog in this new both-friends-with-Steve dynamic and he’s making sure Bucky knows it.
So he keeps up a tough facade when he’s not actively laughing at Bucky. But if Bucky had a nightmare in the middle of the night, or needed to talk to someone about everything he’s dealing with… Sam knows he’d drop the dudebro antics and turn counselor. In a heartbeat. Because Sam has a big heart and, damn, dude’s been through too much and he’ll help where he can.
But in the meantime, he ain’t givin’ up his front seat.
I mean, I could be wrong. But that’s what’s in my head right now.
“Two more beers, please!” you called out over the music when the bartender asked you if you wanted anything more to drink.
Dean was in the bathroom but you assumed he’d want another beer. You finished off your current beer as you watched Sam flirt with some gorgeous brunette across the bar. You gave him a quick thumbs up and a wink when you met eyes and he simply smiled and laughed and went back to flirting. You glanced over the crowd, finding Dean standing outside of the bathroom with some blonde tart blocking his way back to the bar. Being with Dean Winchester was great, but dealing with women practically falling at his goddamn feet every time you went out was infuriating. This was the last fucking straw. This little skinny blonde bitch who looked like she just got off her shift on the corner was not going to playfully touch your man’s arm anymore. Slamming your empty bottle onto the bar, you pointed at the bartender, “Hold those beers, yeah? I’ll be right back” and you stormed off towards Dean and the blonde parasite trying to attach herself to him.
If looks could kill, that poor girl wouldn’t have to deal with what was about to come next. Dean, seeing the look on your face as you walked up to them, immediately put his hands up in defense. “Baby, hey. I was trying to get back over to you. She kept talking and I didn’t want to be rude I just-“ and you cut him off before he could continue. “I know, Dean. I trust you” you said as you looked at him, then you wheeled around to the girl who was now standing behind you, clearly not getting the ‘fuck off’ hint. “Mind stepping off my man?” you smiled, waving her away in dismissal. “Your man? Honey he was here talking to me while you were sat all by yourself at the bar.” she smirked.
You didn’t even give her another chance to speak before your fist connected with her face. She gasped and immediately tried to retaliate, but you were a hunter. You’d fought vamps and wendigos and werewolves twice her size that were four times as fast. Your fist connected with her ribs this time, causing her to slump over. You must’ve blacked out with rage because before you realized it, Dean was tearing you off of the girl where she laid, bloodied and broken on the floor. Fortunately for you both she was still breathing and able to get up and run out of the bar, no murder charges for you tonight. By now, the entire bar was staring at you and Dean. You looked like you just walked out of a horror movie, eyes wide with rage and blood spattered all over your shirt, face, and hands. Once everyone in the bar turned back to mind their own business again, Dean took you and pushed you against the wall, planting hot kisses all over your neck. “Dean, what are you doing?” “God, Y/N. I’m so turned on. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” he growled into your neck, letting his hands run up your sides, his weight effectively pinning between his body and the wall.
Suddenly, Dean lifted you by your hips and slung you over his shoulder as you giggled. His heavy footsteps loud across the wooden floor of the bar as he yelled out to his brother, “Sammy, we’re leaving!” Sam quickly wrote down his number on a napkin and gave it to the brunette, kissing her on the cheek before jogging out the door after you and Dean. “I call shotgun” Sam said, quickening his pace to get to the passenger’s seat before you. You grumbled something incoherent in Sam’s direction, clearly disagreeing with his decision to take shotgun. “Listen, Y/N. I can see it in yours and Dean’s faces that you two are ready to pounce on one another. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit in the back seat while he tries to have sex with you while driving and crashes the car” he laughs, shutting the door to the impala.
The drive back to the bunker was only a few minutes, but with the glances you and Dean were shooting one another through the rearview mirror, it made it feel like hours.
Luckily for you, before you knew it, Sam was jogging inside to give you and Dean some privacy. Dean walked around to your side of the car and practically tore you out of the backseat, shutting the door and pushing you against it. The cold metal and glass of the door on your back making you gasp. Dean’s mouth was on yours in an instant, the beer still evident on his lips. He let his hands cup your face as he pushed his hips against yours. Your hands wandered all over his muscular chest and arms until one finally settled at the back of his neck, tugging his hair lightly, and the other was splayed across his shoulder blade, barely taking up any room on his broad back. One of his hands moved to your hip, squeezing roughly as he rolled his hips into yours again, causing you to moan into his mouth. You could kiss Dean forever. His kisses were all hands, lips, and tongue and he expertly slipped his tongue in your mouth and glided it across your lips in just the right way. His hands never settled in one place for too long, always making sure that no inch of you was unexplored. No kiss was ever the same with Dean Winchester. No matter how many times the two of you kissed, you could never find a pattern or a technique, it was just pure passion, lust, and love. When he kissed you, everything else melted away. Nothing else mattered, just you and Dean.
“Dean” you moaned out when his mouth finally separated from yours when he moved to plant sweet kisses down your jaw. “Hmm?” he hummed, not moving from the spot under your ear that he was currently giving his attention to. “Inside. Please” you said, barely able to get the words out. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but Dean’s mouth and hands. “Okay, let’s go baby” he said, pulling back and looking lovingly into your eyes. Then the look in his eyes changed, from love to dark with lust. He scooped you up in his arms and bolted inside, kicking the door to the bunker shut with his foot. On the way to your room, he paused only to give you more kisses. He swung open the door to your room, not bothering to shut it before tossing you down on the bed. You smirked at Dean and began slowly removing your jeans and tank top, leaving you only in your black lingerie. Dean quickly stripped off his shirt and jeans, his eyes never leaving your figure. Once he was down to his navy blue boxers, he was on top of you. He was resting on one forearm, while his other hand went to your breast, kneading it through the thin, lacy fabric of your bra, all the while rolling his hips against yours. You wrapped your legs around him, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss and he groaned into your mouth as you gave a tight roll to your hips, grinding against him. With the added closeness, both of you were breathing heavy and the kisses were becoming more needy and hungry. “Panties. Off.” Dean commanded between kisses, almost making you cum with how rough his voice was.
You did as you were told and pulled your black panties down your thighs and kicked them off once they were low enough. Dean responded by unclasping your bra with one hand and quickly maneuvering it off of you with that same hand, all while still resting on one forearm, making sure his weight didn’t crush you. You pushed your hand past the waistband of Dean’s boxers and grasped his length, pumping up and down. “Fuck” he breathed out, letting his eyes roll back at the feeling of the newfound contact. With his free hand, he pushed his boxers down as far as he could before just kicking out of them and tossing them to the side haphazardly. He let his hand travel down your stomach, rubbing a few small circles on your clit before slipping two fingers into you. “Shit, Dean” you moaned as he kissed down the valley of your breasts, leaving kisses all the way over to your nipple, letting his tongue swirl around it before pulling it into his mouth. He let is fingers curl inside of you, hitting your sweet spot expertly, causing you to let out a series of moans that got louder the faster he went.
“Dean, baby. Please. I need you. I need all of you” you said, pulling his head up so his eyes could meet yours. He responded without words by pulling his fingers out of you and pushing them into your mouth. You sucked hard and swirled your tongue around his fingers and he groaned at the sight. He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you by running the tip of his length up and down your wet folds. He slipped into you with ease, you were soaking wet for him. “God baby, you’re so tight” Dean moaned out, his eyes rolling back in his head from the feeling of you around him; tight, hot, and wet. He began thrusting in and out of you, his pace gradual but quickening. The two of you were both so close to being thrown over the edge that neither of you could even talk dirty. It was just all hands, kisses, moans, and the occasional growl from Dean.
“Yes! Oh, yes!” you screamed as one particularly hard and deep thrust sent you hurdling over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you with such force that you felt like you might pass out. You raked your nails down Dean’s back as he continued to pump into you, his thrusts becoming erratic as he growled out and squeezed your hip so hard you were sure there was going to be bruises tomorrow. The pleasured waves of your orgasm were still rolling through you when Dean finished, spilling hot liquid into you.
“Damn, Y/N” Dean said, rolling off of you and flopping down beside you on his back, “I never think the sex can get any better and it always does, every time.” He pulled you to his chest and you nuzzled your face into his neck while you rubbed his chest, lightly tracing his anti-possession tattoo. “Ditto” is all you can manage to squeak out, causing you and Dean to erupt into laughter. You quickly succumb to sleep, with Dean’s steady heartbeat and breathing acting like a lullaby for you. You fell asleep with his big, warm arms around you every night. When the two of you were apart, neither of you slept. It just didn’t feel right without him in your bed, and he felt the same way when you weren’t in his bed.
The next day, you and Dean worked around one another flawlessly in the kitchen for breakfast and before you knew it, the two of you and Sam were in the library doing research.
“Ugh” you stretched, tired from sitting in the chair for hours, “I need a workout. I’m headed to the gym, okay boys?” “Actually, me too” Dean said, taking you and Sam by surprise. “Since when do you work out, Dean?” Sam said, chuckling. “Since my sexy ass girlfriend is gonna be getting all sweaty in barely any clothing” he smirked, jogging after you out of the room.
You got changed into yoga shorts and a sports bra, because the work out room in the bunker was always absurdly hot. Dean only wore sweatpants, slung low on his hips, and no shirt. You were doing burpees and getting plenty sweaty when he came into the gym. He eyed you up and down like a damn predator sizing up his prey. He moved over to where the weights were, laying down on the bench and grabbing a weight in each hand. He was pressing the weights up towards the ceiling, his muscles bulging at every movement. You were a few minutes into your run on the treadmill when you decided you just couldn’t take it anymore.
Dean was laying on the bench, resting between reps when you walked over and straddled him, sitting down directly on his crotch. His eyes snapped up to you in surprise and almost as quickly you leaned forward and cupped his face with your hands, kissing him with a need that you didn’t know you possessed. “God this is like a crazy fantasy of mine” he breathed out, pushing down on your hips as you ground down on him on the work out bench. “Me too” you smiled, letting your nails glide lightly over his chest and abs, eliciting a moan from him. “You should’ve come with a kinky warning label, babe” he laughed, sitting up so your chests were pressed together, his lips going to your neck. “You should’ve come with a rough and kinky warning” you laughed, letting your fingers run through Dean’s slightly sweaty hair. “Guess we’re just a perfect match then” he said, pushing you off him for a moment so he could slide your shorts off, letting a growl escape his mouth when he saw that you weren’t wearing any panties.
You stood and removed your shorts all of the way, smirking and sliding down his sweatpants and boxers in one smooth motion. You kneeled down between his thighs, running your hand up to meet his cock, already hard with precum leaking from the slit. You let your tongue slide up the underside of his shaft, licking up the salty precum when you got to the head. With your other hand, you cupped his balls while your mouth sunk down on him, your nose hitting the soft skin of his stomach. “God baby” he groaned out while you bobbed your head up and down along his length, feeling his abdomen flex under your touch as your ran your hand up his stomach and lightly raked your nails back down. “Y/N, stop. I want to cum inside you baby, and honestly if you go for even another minute I’m gonna burst” he laughed, pulling you to straddle him on the bench once again.
His fingers found your clit and rubbed circles as you positioned yourself over him, sliding down slowly. Once you were fully seated, you began grinding back and forth, getting a feel for the motion before beginning to bounce up and down on his cock. The feeling of him hitting your g-spot over and over caused you to throw your head back. Your hands were braced on his chest and his hands were wandering your body, one settling at your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers while the other rubbed quick circles at your clit, making you moan out his name.
“Dean, I’m so close” you breathed, and he groaned and nodded in agreement. Your walls clenched around his length as your orgasm hit you. The sensation of your wet heat clenching around Dean caused him to find his release as well. The both of you rode out your highs until you could barely move and you flopped down onto his chest while he was still inside you.
“You know, baby” you said, tracing lazy circles on Dean’s shoulder, “We’re both really sweaty. I think we need a shower.” Dean immediately perked up at your suggestion. “Oh, hell yeah. Shower time it is. Get your clothes on first though, sweetheart. Can’t have Sammy seeing you naked” he laughed, pulling his sweatpants on, not bothering to put on his boxers. After you were redressed in your shorts and sports bra, you bolted out of the room to yours and Dean’s bathroom. He grabbed his boxers off the floor and quickly followed after you.
You stripped your sweat-coated clothes off, stepping into the shower and letting the hot water wash over you, relaxing your muscles more than you thought possible. Soon enough, a pair of big, strong arms were wrapped around you from behind, with his chin resting on your shoulder. You hummed in approval at the contact and turned around in his arms. Dean grabbed the shampoo and squirted some into his hands, massaging some into his hair before he began massaging your scalp with it. “Mmm, Dean. That feels great” you said, leaning into his touch. He rubbed your head with the shampoo, kissing you lightly on the forehead. The two of you washed the shampoo out of your hair and you grabbed the conditioner and began rubbing it into your hair. Then Dean crouched down a little so you could massage the conditioner into his hair, moaning a little at the feeling of your fingers rubbing his head.
After washing out the conditioner, it was time for the body wash. By far your favorite part of dual showers with Dean. It meant you got to smooth your hands over every inch of him. You took it upon yourself to turn your washing session into a massage for him. It made you happy to see how he relaxed under your touch, he let down all of his defenses around you and just enjoyed your caresses, letting his eyes drift closed while you squeezed and massaged his shoulders and back. He returned the favor when it was his turn to take the body wash, massaging you lightly at first, and adding a bit more pressure where he felt like you had knots, like in your neck and between your shoulder blades.
You and Dean were clean and satisfied, so you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel for the each of you. You dried yourself off and walked into your bedroom with the towel wrapped around you. You slipped on one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin shirts, curling up in bed and inhaling the scent of Dean. No matter how much you wore his clothes or slept in his bed, it still always smelled like him. It was something you’d never get tired of, it was a scent you came to associate with comfort, and home. Dean was your home. Him and Sam were your everything, your family. Ever since the night you watched your friend Alyssa get ripped apart by a werewolf and Sam and Dean saved you. You rolled over to your nightstand, grabbing your picture of you and Alyssa that you had in a delicately carved wooden frame. You sighed as you ran your thumb across her face. Damn, you missed her. “Love you, Lyss” you said, letting a single tear run down your cheek before wiping it away with the back of your hand.
The opening of the bathroom door snapped you from your thoughts and you turned to see Dean, towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another towel, smiling at you. You put the picture back on your nightstand, matching Dean’s smile with one of your own. He slid into bed after putting on a pair of boxers, pulling you to his chest. “Talking to Lyss, baby?” he asked, stroking your hair with one hand and intertwining your fingers with his other hand. “Yeah, I miss her” you sniffed, snuggling into Dean’s chest. There was a brief silence before he spoke up.
“Want to go visit her grave tomorrow?” he asked, kissing your head lightly. “Yes please” you said, letting another tear slide down your face.
Dean swiped up the tear with his thumb before cradling you into his chest, letting you fall asleep wrapped tightly in the warm comfort that was his arms.
You and Steve had decided that Bucky and Sam needed a little bonding time together, so the four of you planned to go to the mall. It was nice to have a normal activity after all of the madness that went down with the Avengers. Unfortunately, at the last minute, Steve had to run off to Switzerland on an emergency mission. That left you, Sam, and Bucky.
“You guys ready?” You asked, throwing on sunglasses. It wasn’t very bright out, but you didn’t want to be harassed in public, so you dressed in normal civilian clothes to blend in. Bucky and Sam did the same. It seemed silly to drive a Quinjet to the mall, so you borrowed one of Tony’s old cars.
“I call shotgun!” Sam threw a glance at Bucky and ran to the passenger’s side door. You were driving, which left Bucky in the back.
“Can you move your seat up?” Bucky grumbled, his legs shifting uncomfortably.
“No.” Sam had a straight face, but you couldn’t help but laugh.
Being the only woman living in an underground fortress with
two men meant that there were some rules that needed to be followed so no one
went crazy. And one of those rules was that no one was to use your coffee
cup…ever. It wasn’t anything special. It was just a regular coffee cup but it
was yours and if someone touched it, there was going to be death.
You couldn’t say why you were so attached to this one coffee
cup other than the fact that you liked it better than any of the others. Call
you crazy but it seemed to keep your coffee hotter longer than any of the
But no matter the reason, no one, ever, drank from your
And both of the brothers knew that. And Dean seemed to like
to get under your skin.
After you took a good, long, hot shower, you needed your
daily cup of Joe. There hadn’t been a case for a while now and you were nearly
climbing the walls. Dean spent most of his time in the library with his feet
propped up on the table watching whatever the hell he watched on his computer.
Sam had his head almost always stuck in some book trying to catalog the endless
information that was in the Bunker and there always seemed like whenever he was
done with one book another one showed up. You found yourself training. You
trained all the time because you felt better knowing that you were prepared for
anything to jump out at you.
There were more times than not that one of the brothers
happened across you scooting along the floors of the Bunker with your gun in
your hand pretending to shoot at some monster that was coming after you. There
were too many times that you were knocked to the ground and the monster stood
You walked into the kitchen and started looking for your
coffee cup. It wasn’t in the cupboard like you thought it was. You stood with the
doors opened and looked around the kitchen. You spotted the sink and walked
over to it to see if by chance you left it in there. No dice. By this point you
were getting annoyed and all you wanted was your coffee cup and coffee. You
looked a little while longer but still your coffee cup was nowhere to be found.
Frustrated you marched into the library to as Dean if he had
seen it. You thought that he would have his laptop open watching whatever it
was but instead he had research spread out all around him and in his hand, you
saw a coffee cup. Your coffee cup.
You marched right up to Dean and snatched the cup right out
of his hand. He snapped his head up and looked at you.
“Hey, I wasn’t finished with that,” Dean said with a whine
looking at the cup.
“What have I told you about drinking out of my coffee cup?” You snarled. You glanced
down at the cup to see that it still had coffee in it and it was still warm.
You took a sip.
Dean looked at the cup again and there was a smile on his
“I’m sorry; I didn’t realize that I took your coffee cup. They look all alike,
“Sure…jackass. Next time, make sure that you’re taking the
right cup, okay.”
He smirked at you. “Sure.”
You took another sip of coffee and then gestured to the
paper that was laid out around him. “What’s all of this?”
“Um… I think that I found us a case.”
You smiled at him, the anger and annoyance that you felt because
he took your cup, on purpose, was suddenly gone. It was about time that he
found a damn case. “Good, I was about ready to kill you. Tell, Sam, that I call
You set the cup back down on the table and started off
toward your room to get packed.
“So, I guess this makes up for me taking your cup?” Dean
called after you.
“Never, Winchester. You’re going to pay for that.”
|| ‘’Cas’’ Dean bellows his name in his usual husky tone as he puts the keys into the ignition and starts the engine. Sam had already called shotgun, so it looked like you’d be riding in the back. Great.
The Impala was already overloaded with a ton of hunting gear that needed to be taken back to the bunker, So you just stand still with a confused look upon your face as to where you’d actually be sitting. ‘’Damn Cas!’’ You flinch back slightly startled as he appears next to you. His angelic Innocence melting your heart. ‘’Sorry Y/N. I didn’t intend to scare you’’.
He turns to look at you. And for a split moment everything comes to a halt. You stare deeply into his eyes. His oceanic hues captivating every inch of you. As if he was swallowing you into an angelic Abyss.
Dean begins to snap his fingers aimlessly to snap you from your mini-daydream. ‘’Um-Yeah.’’ You clear your throat, slightly embarrassed at the fact Cas was now seated in the car among all the crap.
‘’Just a question guys’’ You ask in amusement. ‘’Where exactly do I sit?’’
Sam perks up and points towards Cas, who looks just as confused as you do.
‘’You get the grand seat of Cas’ lap.’’ Sam remarks mockingly before looking to Dean for a high-five.
‘’Right….’’ Climbing over all the gear, You awkwardly place yourself on top of Cas’ lap. As soon as your legs touch his own you notice his radiating warmth.
Dean turns back to the both of you before pulling out onto the high-way. ‘’How about a little Metallica?’’ Dean grins boyishly and flicks on the tape.
You didn’t mind Dean’s choice in Music, It just was a little too much for you when you’d got about an hour of shut eye the night before.
About 10 mins into the journey, You can’t help but notice Cas’ hot breath hit the nape of your neck. It was odd, but you enjoyed it anyway.
‘’You smell good’’. Cas exclaims out of no-where. ‘’Oh Err…Thanks.’’ You stutter back the words, becoming slightly nervous that he would notice your cheeks starting to turn a rosy color.
Sam turns round in his seat to give you and Cas a friendly wink. Which just made everything 10X more awkward.
‘’We’re nearly there Y/N’’ Dean chimed from the front seat. ‘’About 20 mins left then we can all stretch our legs’’
‘’Thank-God’’ Sam replies as he shuffles in the seat.
You draw in a breath to calm yourself just as Dean swerves away from an animal in the road. All the gear piles on top of you, finally realizing you were clung into Cas’ arms. It felt safe. And you never wanted to leave.
Anonymous: Could you please write something where the reader and Dean are in a relationship but Dean gets jealous when the reader is spending loads of time talking to someone who runs one of their favorite blogs and then somehow the reader finds out the person they’ve been talking to is Charlie (like they were already close friends with Charlie just didn’t know it was her blog) so they try to make Dean more jealous ’til he finally says he loves the reader?[..]
Yeah! That sounds adorable!
One more scroll! That’s what you kept thinking for the past hour. You were on research duty using Sam’s laptop, but Tumblr was the biggest distraction in the world, I mean blogging is much more amusing than looking up information on the demon tablet right? One of your favorite bloggers has been taking up most of your time, messaging back and forth like texting. The last couple messages were funny, so you giggled a bit and Dean looked up.
“What’s so funny babe?” he asked sitting up. The bunker library was silent so the sound of your giggle snapped him out of research.
“Nothing” you said, switching tabs from tumblr to a search engine. Dean looked over your computer screen, “Are you on that stupid blog again?” he asked exhaling. Dean was more than annoyed that I was spending all my time talking to the blogger, but she’s hilarious! Charlie, who was seating at the other head of the table also on her laptop looked at Dean, “Blogging is not boring, it’s a lifestyle” and began typing again. Dean just scoffed and rolled his eyes and began reading again.
Typing your next message “my boyfriend hates Tumblr ughhh” to your mystery blogger, you then actually opened up google.
“No seriously, are you even researching?” Dean asked. “Yeah, yeah” you responded as you began typing.
“Hey Y/N” you heard Charlie, “Come here, this friend of mine on Tumblr sounds just like you” she said. You walked over, and looked at her screen before looking at her.
“What?” she asked, “What?!”
“Nothing, that’s just funny” you said and chuckled. Quickly you sat back down and opened up tumblr again this time typing “Charlie! It’s me!” and sent it. Right away Charlie looked up eyes wide mouthing “Oh my god!” and you both began laughing. Dean looked at the both of you, and loudly asked “What. Is. So. Funny?” before trying to look at your computer which you turned.
Charlie sent you a message, “let’s make him jealous. Laugh harder” and that’s what you did.
“Whatever” he said getting up and rolling up his sleeves, “I’m grabbing something to eat. You want?” he said, his hands on the back of the chair as he leant forward. Both you and Charlie nodded, eyes still glued to the screen - on purpose of course.
“I think it’s working” you messaged Charlie who smiled as she looked up at you. She messaged back “I am hungry though, let’s go out to dinner. Bring your phone and get the app” she messaged and shut her laptop.
“Dean!” you yelled towards the kitchen “Let’s go out for dinner!”, which got his attention. You heard his strong footsteps make their way towards the library.
“Burgers and fries sounds good?” he asked. “Perfect!” you said walking up to kiss his cheek. He smiled and went to go fetch Sam.
“That’s so weird!” you told Charlie once he was out of earshot, “You’re my tumblr best friend?” you said, laughing at the same time.
“Best friends there and here” she said, putting on her sweatshirt. “Oh, use your tumblr app while you there, keep messaging me. Let’s see what Dean will do” she said, earning a devious smirk from you.
Sam finally got into the library, and you were all off. Sam called shotgun and you and Charlie slid in the back. You propped your knees up on Dean’s seat after ruffling his hair a bit. Immediately Dean turned on his AC/DC album, and you learned to love it, so as you opened up Tumblr, you sang along quietly to ‘Thunderstruck’, even the guitar riffs and solos.
“Turn here!” Charlie announced pointing to the diner on the left. A small flashing light read “BEST BURGERS IN TOWN”, and you’d be the judge of that you thought. As Dean pulled the Impala up on the rocky gravel you could see couples and families sitting outside in the warmth of the summer night.
Dean opened the car door for you, which was weird because he usually didn’t, he even held your hand all the way to the restaurant, tight.
Once you were all seated, Dean on your left and Charlie slid in after Sam, a waitress walked over saying “What’ll y’all be eatin’ tonight?”
“We’ll all take a burger, and fries for the table” you said, letting Sam eat something other than his salad, although he did give you a weird look but you knew he wanted that burger.
Simultaneously both you and Charlie took out your phones and began messaging back and forth. Sam looked over Charlie’s phone, and she turned it away from him without even looking up. Sam just shrugged and looked at Dean who rapped his fingers on the table in annoyance when he said “Will you at least get off the phone in the restaurant?” when he grabbed the phone from your hands and placed it on Sam’s edge of the table.
“Hey! Give it!” you said, reaching for the phone, but the moose just held it up until you stopped trying. Charlie just laughed with Sam, and the burgers came. Dean was first to take a huge bite from his burger, no talk. You threw a fry at Sam who managed to catch it with his teeth, which made you and Charlie laugh - but allowed you to grab your phone. Right away you unlocked it and leaned back in your chair, burger in one hand and phone in the other as you laughed at some random post on Charlie’s blog, “You’re hilarious little blogger” you said, mouth full, looking at your phone.
Dean slammed down his burger and pulled your arm out of the booth. You threw your phone to Sam while looking confused letting Dean drag you.
“What?” you asked once he pulled you far enough from people.
“Who’s on that phone? Someone better?” he asked, a sadness in his eyes.
“Oh god, no Dean!” you said, when he cut you off with a kiss. Happy but confused you pulled away “Dean?” you asked, hands on his arms.
“I love you, alright?” he said, and your eyes went wide, “I’m sorry I’ve been mean, oh god Y/N, that bloggers been taking all your time until I went crazy” he said, kissing you again. This time when he pulled away you laughed, “Dean! I love you too!” you said cupping his cheeks, “but, uh, that was Charlie.” you said. He looked more than confused, tilting his head, “What?” he asked.
“I mean, the blogger? That was Charlie” which led to him marching over to the table. “Charlie!” he yelled, which both Charlie and Sam began laughing at, Sam obviously was filled in on the situation. You just kissed Dean which calmed him down as you began to sit back down. You finally finished off your burger, and everyone ordered dessert.
“That cake was so good!” Charlie said, sliding into the backseat. Sam agreed and sat down, although you and Dean were a bit busy making out by the hood of the car, earning looks of disgust from Charlie and Sam.