sam's back on top of his game

smartashes  asked:

36 or 16?

por qué no ambos?

#36: “I hate you”

#16: “Just shut up and kiss me”

You really don’t see why you and Bucky had to be assigned as a couple on this undercover mission. Natasha got to go shopping, while you and Bucky were stuck sitting outside a cafe waiting for your mark to show up. It sucks. You’d rather be kicking ass than holding hands.

What makes it even worse is that Bucky seems to be enjoying every second of your frustration. He will not stop smirking every time you sigh or roll your eyes or try to kick his ankle under the table, like this is all a really fun game to him. He’s holding your hand on top of the table, stroking his thumb across the back of yours and laughing when you try to squirm away from him. He’s a menace, and if he doesn’t watch it you’re going to kill him before this mission is even halfway done.

“Target has entered the mall,” Sam says through comms. “Heading your way, Natasha.”

You groan. Who knows how long you and Bucky will have to sit here with this charade until your target shows up. You’re supposed to be gathering intel - sometime today he’ll be meeting someone at this cafe, and you and Bucky are going to figure out why and what they’re meeting about. Until then, it’s happy couples, and it’s driving you mad.

“Y’know, we’d be a lot more convincing if you stopped glaring at me every five minutes,” Bucky says, grinning as you once again glance over to glare at him. You try to tug your hand away but he just holds on tighter, body shaking with the effort of containing his laughter.

“We’d be a lot more convincing if I actually liked you,” you snap. Bucky does laugh then, big and booming straight from his chest, his entire face lighting up. You stare at him, speechless for a second, before shaking yourself out of it. This mission is really getting to you.

“What can I get for you today?” a waitress asks as she comes up to your table. You look down to glare at the table, knowing if you tried to speak or make eye-contact you’d probably give away your cover in ten seconds flat. It’s impossible to contain your irritation when you’re around Bucky Barnes, even if it is for a mission.

“We’ll just get some coffees, please,” Bucky says, his grin practically audible. “Oh, and maybe one of those cake things you have on display.”

“Which one?” the waitress asks, “We’ve got-“

“Surprise me,” Bucky says. You resist the urge to gag.

When the waitress walks away with a giggle, you whip your head up to glare daggers at Bucky. He looks back at you with a smug grin on his face, eyes practically sparkling with how much fun he’s having pissing you off.

“Mind not flirting with anything that moves for five minutes while we’re under cover? I thought you wanted to be convincing,” you whisper-yell, digging your fingernails into the back of his hand to let him know you aren’t fucking around.

To your chagrin, Bucky grins wider and raises his eyebrows. “What, are you jealous?”

“For fucks sake,” you mutter, shifting away from him so you no longer have to look at his smug, stupid face anymore.

You scan the street while Bucky plays with your fingers and you try your best not to break his hand. The waitress returns with your coffees and a slice of orange and poppyseed cake, which Bucky thanks her profusely for. You ignore him this time, but that doesn’t roll well with Bucky at all.

He hooks his ankles around the legs of your chair and drags you towards him until you’re practically sat between his knees. You turn to give him a piece of your mind, mission cover be damned, but you find him simply smiling at you with the fork in his hand, a piece of cake stabbed on the end.

“You have got to be kidding,” you say, but Bucky just wiggles his eyebrows and moves the fork closer to your face.

“Open up, sweetheart,” he says. If looks could kill, he would be long dead.

“I hate you,” you say, but you open your mouth and allow Bucky to feed you the damn piece of cake. It tastes good, too, which is really just salt in the wound.

“Alright lovebirds, he’s heading your way,” Natasha says. “He bought a green sweater and put it on, to change his appearance I assume. I don’t think he knows we’re watching him, but he’s paranoid enough to think someone is.”

“Great, he’ll be looking for eavesdroppers,” you say. “He’ll never sit right next to us.”

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Bucky suddenly blurts. He blushes immediately afterwards while Natasha cackles into comms.

“He’s not wrong,” she says. You glare at Bucky for the both of them.

“No fucking way. You already force-fed me the goddamn cake, I am not letting you-“

“(Y/N), just think about it for a second,” Bucky says. “If we’re making people uncomfortable with PDA, no one will want to look at us. That means if he sits next to us, no one will be looking at him. We’ll do all the work for him, and he’ll never suspect us to be watching him when we’re otherwise occupied.”

“That’s the worst fucking logic I’ve ever heard in my life,” you say. Out of the corner of your eye you see the target approaching, wearing the green sweater Natasha warned you about and walking with an unidentified woman - whoever he’s meeting, you presume.

“It’s the best plan we’ve got,” Bucky says, grinning - he’s enjoying this way too much for your liking.

“It’s a stupid plan! It’s not going to work, we’ll probably just drive him away further and fuck up the whole entire mission-“

“(Y/N),” Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

You stop talking, from pure, indignant rage, and Bucky takes advantage of that moment to cup your jaw and kiss you. He pulls you into him by the hand and you fall against his chest, your other hand coming up to brace yourself on his shoulder with a muffled yelp. Bucky bites your lip and grins way too smug. No way is he winning this one.

You grip his shirt and pull him closer, pressing your bodies together as much as you can in a public place. He grunts against your mouth as your lips slot together practically perfectly, dropping your hand to slide his arm around your waist and hold you against him. His mouth is so hot and soft it should be illegal, and despite the mission and the voice in your head yelling at you that you don’t even like him, you can’t stop yourself from humming contentedly when he slides his tongue into your mouth. It feels like molten heaven, and you’r melting piece by piece.

“Uh, guys. It worked, they’re sitting right next to you. You can stop now,” Clint says, watching the whole thing from his snipers perch. Right. The mission. Your fucking job - shit.

You pull away abruptly, gasping for breath but Bucky keeps you close with a hand on the small of your back. His lips are swollen and wet, impossible to look away from even as they curl into a sinful smirk. He slides his hand under the back of your shirt and strokes your skin, soft despite the callouses. Whatever you were going to yell at him about getting carried away gets lost in the gentle movement of his hand.

“Still think it was a stupid plan?” he whispers against your ear, so you mark doesn’t hear you from the next table over. They’re starting to discuss something in shady euphemisms that sounds a lot like a weapons deal to you, but you can barely focus.

You thunk your head against Bucky’s shoulder to catch you breath while he laughs, his chest rumbling against yours. You half-heartedly punch him on the shoulder and say, “I still hate you.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Bucky says, but he doesn’t let go and neither do you.

anonymous asked:

you and sam went to different high schools and never knew each other but still followed on another on social media. one week out of your summer you go to a drama retreat that is boys and girls. when he sees u he's shook but he's also like "ive gotta girl" but youre paired off in groups and youre in it together and he gets to know you blah blah him and his girl split and you talk him through it and soon youre dating bc NNJMSIm d-becca

okay so i can see this happening big time

for this one i had to kind of demonize the ex, so sorry in advance :-/ but this shit happens more often than you think.

just three months

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Characters: Little sister!Reader, young Dean, young Sam, Bobby

Warnings: fluff, mentions of John’s crappy parenting, fluff, Winchester’s as kids, did I mention fluff?

Word count: 1k

Description: Back when the Winchester’s were young, they spent a lot of time at Bobby’s. Being the eldest meant that Dean was in charge of looking after his little brother and sister when Bobby wasn’t around. When one brother is being stroppy, who else is a little sister to turn to to play with?

A/N: I was super excited to write this! I’ve always loved the idea of seeing what life was like for the boys when they were little. This was written for @dreamin-of-somewhere-else ’s 2000 followers challenge and my prompt for this fic was the song Renegades by X Ambassadors (one of my fave songs ever). I hope you like it xx Masterlist

Dean’s age: 11

Sam’s age: 7

Y/N’s age: 4


“I got you Sammy!” Y/N squeals, running for cover behind the wheel of an old car.

“No you didn’t! You missed!” Sam whines, stomping his small foot on the ground.

“Yes I did, now you have to be dead!”

“You didn’t hit me so I’m not being dead! You weren’t dead when I hit you!” He folds his arms and huffs.

“Just be dead for a bit Sammy. You know she’s not gonna shut up about it until you do.” Dean points out, not looking up from the very real gun he’s cleaning.

“But… Argh fine!” Sam groans but does as he’s told, heading back to his base in the scrap yard. Dean rolls his eyes as Sam drags his scuffed trainers on the stony ground.

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Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Word Count: About 2400

Warnings: Swearing, FLUFF, some kid being a dick- harassment

Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: The reader decides the three of them need a break and takes the boys to a baseball game after a hunt. But the reader is in for a surprise when what she thought was going to be only a fun night with her two favorite boys, turns out to be more than she expects. The man she has loved for years decides he’s gathered the courage to tell her how he feels about her.

A/N: For @bkwrm523 ‘s 30 prompts challenge, I had a lot of fun writing this and was secretly glad that the deadline was March because it takes me absolutely forever to get a fic out. Anyways, my prompt was “I need more excuses to eat cheese”, not gonna lie, this one was a little daunting because I had no idea what to do with it! (I did change it a bit to nacho cheese so I hope that’s okay) Hope you enjoy!

“I need more excuses to eat nacho cheese,” You turned to see Dean shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth. “This stuff is like liquid gold.” He said, bits of food falling from his cheeks onto his New York Mets shirt you had bought a few minutes ago. You laughed.

Dean seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the Mets game you had convinced them to attend so far. The boys definitely deserved a break, the werewolf pack the three of you had followed to the big Apple had proved to be difficult.  Truth was, you weren’t some huge fan of baseball, but upon remembering a few games spent in the summer sun of the past, you decided it would be fun. The smell of hotdogs and the roaring of the crowd was exciting as a kid, even if you didn’t know what was going on in the game, it was still time well spent with your family.

“Can you at least act like an adult?” Sam chuckled on your other side, shifting in his seat to get a better view of his brother who had currently brought his shirt up to his face, licking the cheese that had made it may down the Mets logo. “Dude what else do you want me to do? I am not wasting perfectly good cheese!”

You threw back your head as you laughed once again and Dean smacked the bill of your backward baseball cap causing it to fly into your lap. “Hey shut up! You’re the one who dropped her ice cream on her seat and then ate what was salvageable!”

“But I didn’t lick it off the chair! And an ice cream here is like five bucks, I would’ve eaten it even if it fell on the ground.”

Dean was the one laughing now and Sam muttered something next to you about how many people use these seats, about how many germs you had ingested.

It was currently the top of the third inning, still pretty early in the game, and you could tell the boys were already enjoying themselves. This was such as great idea. The best part of the game wasn’t just the atmosphere of excitement but the fact you got to see the boys smile and have fun. You were sick of their ‘all work, no play’ attitude.

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Captain & Corruptor

Summary: A night out with friends turns from playful to sinful when you decide to have a little more fun with a certain super soldier.  
Pairing: Steve x Reader
Word Count: 2997
Warnings: NSFW, explicit content, language, dirty talk, unprotected sex.
A/N: So I went from writing Steve as a stubborn little shit to pure filth in the matter of a weekend. Alrighty then!! Well, it’s Sinful Sunday and this is a thing that happened!

Originally posted by sheisraging

Sleazy bars were not hard to come by in New York City, and tonight, you and your friends found the perfect one. They might as well have named the damn place Debauchery. Dark, crowded, provocative music blaring through speakers; the air was stifling because of all the bodies grinding on the cramped dance floor. Definitely perfect.

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anonymous asked:

ficlet word: diner

It’s late and the diner is one of those little twenty-four seven places with stressed out waitresses and road weary truck drivers.

The sign in the front says to seat yourself and they’re glad for it. Dean picked one of the back booths in the back. He smirked to himself when he saw that there was a young couple sitting right in front of them. The kind of couple that looked rigid and uptight, the kind of couple that don’t look like they visit this kind of place often. The kind of couple that were very set in their ways.

It was the perfect booth for the both of them.

The guy, some dude who’s probably going to go bald before forty eyed Dean as he looked him up and down and then turned his gaze towards Sam, the frown on his face deepening. He leaned over towards the girl and whispered something in her ear that caused her to frown too.

Dean slid into the booth first, settling himself against the wall and angling his body to where Sam could slid up right next to him. Sam shot him a quick look, glancing over at the couple with a question on his face but Dean only smiled and suddenly Sam seems to understand everything perfectly. Sam returned the smile.

Dean rested his arm along the back of the armrest as Sam climbed into the booth and along the seat until he settled himself right on top of Dean’s lap.

Dean let out a surprised sound, not expecting Sam to take it that far but frankly he’s not complaining. They’re facing the couple and suddenly the couple seemed all too interested in their meal that they previously seemed disinterested in, eating without saying a word.

Their server, a young woman who looked like she was still barely in college and stressed showed up a few moments later and handed them the menus. She looked at them for a second and started to say something about how patrons weren’t allowed to sit in the laps of other patrons unless they were children when she locked her jaw shut at the look that Dean sent her way. Instead she smiled, pulling out the little rectangle notepad, pen ready.

“So… what can I get y’all?” She asked, her voice dripping with a heavy southern accent.

“I’ll take a chocolate milkshake.” Sam said, handing the girl back the menu. “With whipped cream and a cherry please.” He added with his best innocent smile that he could muster.

She nodded, scribbling it down before turning to look at Dean. “Do you want one too, sir?”

Dean looked over the menu like he was actually considering getting something before he handed the menu back to her and shook his head. “Naw, we’ll take just the one.”

The girl looked between the two of them, her eyes wide before she cleared her throat, said that it would be out in a moment and then proceeded to turn on her heel back towards the kitchen. When Dean straightened his gaze back to in front of him he couldn’t keep from smiling when he saw that the couple was looking at them again.

They flushed bright red when they realized that they were being really fucking obvious at their staring and quickly turned back to their nearly finished meal. Sam is the one who actually laughs, a bubble of giddy laughter exploding through his chest.

He laced his arm around the back of Dean’s neck and rested his forehead against his, their noses barely touching. Dean had his hand resting just below Sam’s knee which he slowly started to move up, thumb rubbing small circles into his thigh.

“What’d you think they do if you fucked me on top of this table?” Sam purred against Dean’s neck and Dean nearly choked because fuck kid, you can’t just fucking say that without warning a man first .

Dean swallowed around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat and pushed away the thought of how Sam would look spread out along the table.

“Probably watch until we finished. They’ve never seen anything as hot as my baby with a dick in him.” Dean replied back, turning the dirty talk up to nearly a hundred. If Sam wanted to play this game, then they would play. “Couldn’t keep their hands off themselves.” He whispered as he leaned closer towards Sam, nearly pushing Sam back against the edge of the table, bending him in half. “When they hear the noises you make…” Sam closed his eyes as Dean continued. “Whimpering and moaning my name…” Dean’s lips hovered just above Sam’s. “They’d sit there and watch.” Dean laughed suddenly and Sam smiled up at him. “Then they’d call the cops.”

Their server returned with their milkshake topped with two straws and one cherry. Sam brought one of the straws to his lips.

“Mmm.” he hummed around the red plastic. “It’s really good, try some.” The woman looked over as Sam held the straw out for Dean. Dean didn’t break eye contact with Sam as he took a sip.

“Delicious.” Dean agreed, looking at Sam and licked his lips.

Sam set the glass down and glanced at the woman who was now making no point to hide her distaste. He picked the cherry off the top of the whipped cream and popped the entire thing into his mouth.

She turned toward the man and said something under her breath as she kicked his leg. He said something back and then turned to look at them.

Sam stared back at them as he laid his hand on Dean’s cheek, pulling him toward his lips. He kissed Dean hard, dipping his tongue into his mouth as Dean kissed back. They made a point to be as obnoxious about it as they could, moaning loudly, breathing heavy. Dean pushed his hands up through Sam’s hair and held tight. Sam bit onto Dean’s bottom lip and pulled as he leaned back, breaking the kiss; keeping his eyes on the couple the whole time.

Dean reached up and pulled the cherry stem from his mouth and grinned at the couple.

The woman made a disgusted noise as she abruptly stood up, throwing her napkin on the table. The man shoved his empty plate away from him and followed her to the register.

“Got the whole section to ourselves now,” Dean said with a smirk and took another sip.

Of Bullets and Big Buck Hunter

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~2300

Warnings: Language, as always, but this one is pretty tame. 

Written for @reigningqueenofwords Aim to Misbehave challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in this :) love me some Firefly. My prompt was  “Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

“The usual?” Katie asks, before you can even flop down onto your stool.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” you say. “How’s your momma doin’? Any better today?”

“Oh, you know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” you grimace. You’ve spent it working on a murder case, a fucking grisly one, which is not a normal thing for your tiny town, but Katie doesn’t need to know anything about that. She slides you a Jameson and ginger and you take a grateful sip.

Katie’s wiggling her eyebrows in a way that should maybe be meaningful, but mostly just looks like a seizure.

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Sleepy Speedy

Pietro Maximoff x Avenger!Reader

Summary: 5 times Pietro sleeps against you and 1 time you sleep against him. (Based off this post from @scribblecrumbs)
Genre: Romance/fluff
Rating: T
Warnings: Swearings
2,459 words

Notes: FINALLY HERE!!! My first Pietro one-shot! It took me ages with my writer’s block and it’s not my best but I was dying to post something so…here it goes! I apologize if Speedy sounds a bit ooc, tho. :( The end is shitty and all mistakes are mine since I didn’t proof read it. Warn me if you find anything! I’ll re-open the requests soon, prOMISE. MEANWHILE…ENJOY IT! <3

The first time it happens, you’re all on the way back home after a impromptu mission in the Asia. 

The quinjet is lit by only a few dim lights as the silence filled the space, the whole team way too tired to think about keeping small talk. 

Nobody thought that the mission would have that much of action when Maria called out, warning for an unknown imminent threat in a small town somewhere in Asia. 

But arriving there, you got welcomed by an army of local rebels adding up a few drug dealers. 

So yeah, you can’t blame the team for their beat up looks right now. Not when you’re feeling beaten up yourself. 

Steve, Bucky and Natasha are sitting  side by side, the two super soldiers looking remotely okay as they whisper to each other occasionally with Nat’s legs loosely thrown over their thighs, her split lip swollen and slightly covered in dried blood. 

Vision, the only only who isn’t affected at all, is sitting a little more ahead and next to Sam, who’s piloting the quinjet after Natasha scolded him saying he'd have to be a real pilot at least once. 

Wanda is right beside you, her head resting against the jet’s wall as she let out short sighs, probably resting her tired mind from her powers. 

And then there’s Pietro. 

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greek-freak101  asked:

Okay but seriously I saw something like this a while back "I have abs dude, when I take my shift off men get threatened and girls turned on." And just imagine Nadine saying that to Sam, leading to them having a show off of muscles and abs. Chloe's the judge.

“I have better abs than you. When I take my shirt off, men feel threatened and girls get turned on.” Nadine boasted confidently to the older Drake brother.

The evening started out with a couple packs of beers between Chloe, Nadine, and Sam, laughing and telling stories of grandeur and life experiences and then turned into a cocky competition with an “anything you can do, I can do better” foundation. Chloe merely sat there with her elbow on the table and her cheek resting on her palm as she watched the other two challenge each other as per usual.

“Is that right? Alright, Ross, then let’s have a little friendly contest.” Sam suggested.

Chloe huffed and mumbled under her breath. “With you two, nothing’s ever friendly.”

“Just as they do in those egregious bodybuilding competitions, you and I will remove our shirts and see who has the best abs.”

“Who’s going to be the judge, then?” Nadine asked, cocking her brow?

Chloe almost immediately raised her hand at lightning speed, lips pursing in a silent ooh. Nadine chuckled and shook her head. “Alright. So, then what will the payoff be? What does the winner get and what happens to the loser?”

“I think I should be the one to come up with that,” Chloe answered. “but, I won’t announce the prize and punishment until after I’ve finished judging.”

“Well, that doesn’t hardly seem fair.” Nadine said.

“Yeah, who knows what kind of wicked stuff that brain of yours will come up with.” Sam concurred, crossing his arms.

“Oh C'mon you two, where’s your sense of fun? This just makes the whole competition even more interesting. Plus, it should make you feel more inclined to try and win.” Chloe purred with a wink at Nadine. The woman chuckled and shook her head before taking a swig of her beer and standing up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Well, lucky for me I won’t have to try since my opponent is a wrinkly old dinosaur.”

Sam placed a hand on his heart, feigning offense. “Madam, there is nothing wrinkly about me, except for a certain part which I am not at liberty to address.”

“Oh yeah? So do those wrinkles on your forehead take debit or credit?” Chloe teased, earning a hearty chuckle from Nadine which made Chloe smile greatly.

“Har har. Let’s get this party started.” Sam muttered as he peeled back his button up shirt and then removed his tank top. Nadine followed suit, removing her tank top as well to reveal a black sports bra underneath. Chloe’s eyes leisurely roamed over Nadine’s torso, taking in every inch of her. She was so well toned and built with a very well defined four-pack. Chloe hadn’t even realized she was staring until Sam pulled her out of her trance.

“Hey, judge? You know there’s another contender right here, right?”

“Hm? Oh, right. Ok you two, go stand next to each other and start showing off.” Chloe ordered. Nadine went over and stood next to Sam and they both started flexing their muscles. Chloe glanced at Sam’s body once before instantly turning her attention back to Nadine. She watched as her muscles undulated underneath her beautiful brown skin. She flexed and stretched, moving her arms and manipulating her body to show off the rippling muscles she trained and formed over many years. Chloe was completely mesmerized and she could practically feel her mouth water. How she wanted to run her hands over that magnificent body and feel those muscles move beneath her.

Sam noticed that Chloe wasn’t looking at him at all and he cleared his throat gruffly. Chloe snapped out of her trance once again. “Hm? Oh! Is it judgment time?”

“I dunno, Chloe. Seems like you only had your eyes on Nadine the whole time.” Sam griped, his arms crossed.

“I looked at you too, mate. Well, I glanced, but I definitely looked.” Chloe admitted with a guilty chuckle. Sam rolled his eyes.


“So, who’s the winner, eh?” Nadine asked, placing her hands on her hips. The very sight made Chloe’s palms begin to sweat. She looked back and forth between Sam and Nadine, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes as if she was really weighing their performances against each other.

“Well, it was a tough choice and it really tore me apart to have to choose between such fine mates such as yourselves, but… I’m afraid Nadine takes this one.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed?” Sam muttered in a very unsurprised, monotone voice.

“Pays to be young and unwrinkled.” Nadine declared with a proud toss of her curly locks. Sam sighed and put his clothes back on.

“Yeah, yeah. You only won cause the game was rigged. You’re a dirty, crooked judge, Frazer.”

Chloe had already gone back to gazing at Nadine who was also putting her tank top back on. “Hmm… crooked? Maybe… dirty? Definitely…”

This is Not Your Fairy Tale

Your name: submit What is this?

Warnings: Sex, Language and Violence.

The Crazy Horse Road House may not be the most romantic rendezvous, but it works for you and Sam. That’s the only thing that matters.

Between your schedule and Sam crisscrossing the country to fight the big bad, it’s amazing you’ve made any semblance of a relationship last. It takes a lot of work and patience to be the woman waiting on Sam Winchester. Most of the time it’s nothing more than missed dinners, broken plans and crawling into bed alone.

It’s not exactly ideal, but it’s your reality and it’s really damn lonely.

Once a month, if life is hectic and you two haven’t really gotten a chance to spend any time together, you meet here. The Crazy Horse.  You spend the weekend drinking cheap beer, going to second run movies and fucking in the dirty motel across the street. Sometimes he comes alone, other times he brings his brother and you pretend that it doesn’t bother you.

Everything about Sam is a compromise, so you take what you can get.

So tonight, here you sit, three beers in, waiting. Sam’s late, big surprise.

“Hey,” a greasy, middle-aged guy parks himself on the barstool next to you. He has no shame as he gives you a good once over, eyeing you from head to toe. “Damn sweetheart, you look like you could use some company.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You flash him a tight smile and sip your beer.

“I don’t know about that. You look a little lonely over here all by yourself.” He makes himself comfortable, signaling to the bartender for another drink. “I’m Luke, what’s your name?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You don’t have worry about me. I’m waiting for someone.”

“You sure about that?” He moves in a little closer. “My buddies and I have been watching you for a while. Sure looks like you’re flying solo.” He nods to a small table.  You follow his stare and several of the men begin to snicker and whistle.

“As flattering as all this is, I’m really not interested in anything other than my drink.” You shift in your seat, turning toward him and leaning away at the same time. You make sure to look him in the eyes, you don’t want him getting the wrong idea, you’re not a woman who’s easily messed with. This is not the first time you’ve been hit on in bar, but it never gets less uncomfortable.

“Hey now, no reason to get your panties in a punch.” He’s really not taking the hint. “Just let me buy you a beer. I we’d get along just fine once you loosen up a little.”

“Listen, I’m not going to ask you again, please leave me alone.” You cringe as he licks his lips, amused by your reaction.

“Let’s just think about this for a minute, it’s perfect sweetheart,” His hand is suddenly on your leg, his stubby fingers digging into your thigh. You suck in a sudden breath, jumping at his touch. “You’re alone, I’m alone. We could have a little fun.”

“She’s not alone.” Sam’s voice behind you is unmistakable, accompanied by his big hands on your shoulders. “Take your hands off her before I do it for you.”

Luke’s hand recoils, suddenly jumping up from his seat. He smiles shyly and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s cool man, we were just talking.”

“Well, you’re done now.” Sam moves between you and Luke, as he shuffles back his table where his friends are in hysterics.

“You picked a hell of a night to be late.” You spin around to face him.

“I can see that. You have quite the fan club.” Sam looks down you with his jaw set, not at all amused. He ticks his head, as if he’s trying to shake off how pissed he is. He throws Luke, and the table of admirers, a hostile stare.

“Sam, It’s fine” You stand up as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you to him. He kisses you hard, definitely more forceful than the usual hello kiss. You squeak into this mouth when he grabs a handful of your ass, giving it a quick squeeze as he pulls away.

Sam’s marking his territory. You let him.

“You wanna leave?” He offers, still holding you against his body.  You can feel his heart racing in his chest, he really didn’t like that guy touching you. His reaction, while a bit over the top, is really turning you on.  

“No, don’t let that guy ruin our night. Come on,” you grab his hand and coax him back toward the bar.


It takes a few beers, a game of darts and a story about Dean shopping for the perfect mozzarella cheese, but Sam simmers downs and start to enjoy himself. You talk and drink until well after midnight. You tell him everything. The little details, that would bore anyone else, make Sam’s eyes light up. He enjoys hearing about your boring little life.

Sam’s coming back from the bathroom, when one of Luke’s friend bumps into him. Sam keep his cool, but the guy mumbles something. You know what’s about to happen, already moving toward them.

“What did you say?” Sam raises his eyebrows, his shoulders rolling back.

“Baby, just ignore him. Please, let’s just go.” You’re between Sam and another man, with two hands on Sam’s chest. The other guy is just as big as Sam.

The situation has escalated in record time.

The man eyes you up, then down, making the point that Sam can’t stop him from looking at you any way he likes.  He turns to Sam and grins, “I bet I could make her squeal like a pig.”

“Shut your mouth.” Sam spits as his fist connects with the man’s face in a single, fluid motion. One quick punch and the asshole is holding his nose as blood streams down his shirt.

Next thing you know, he’s running full bore at Sam.

Your dive bar date night has officially turned into an all out brawl.



A couple hours  later you’re in a dirty motel bathroom. The gash in Sam’s side looks horrific but he’s insisting that he doesn’t need a hospital.

“Can you thread the needle for me?” he implores, wincing as he gingerly pats the open wound with an alcohol soaked cloth.

“Sure,” you gulp and look away, your stomach feeling uneasy. “Are you sure we shouldn’t have someone look at it? He cut with a broken beer bottle for Christ’s sake.”

“It’s not too deep.” Sam gives you a strained grin that’s intended to dismiss your concerns. “I’ve done it before, Y/N. I’m gonna be fine.”

“Okay,” you don’t fight him. You thread the needle with fishing line and hand it to him along with a bottle of whiskey. He takes a swig, then gets down to the business of stitching himself up.

You can’t watch. You turn the TV and force yourself to watch a rerun of Forensic Files.

By the time Sam’s crawls into bed it’s almost sunrise. There’s a lot you intended to say to him, but instead you wrap your arms around him as he lays his head on your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, it wasn’t your fault, but you feel like somehow it was. “We should have left.”

“Don’t be. He was asking for it.” Sam breathes, “I’d do it again.”

When you wake up it’s early afternoon and Sam is gone. There’s a note on his pillow.

Dean called, had to leave. Didn’t want to wake you.

I’m sorry I ruined our night. I’ll make it up to you. Call me.

I love you.


Two weeks later , Sam hi-jacks you on a Sunday afternoon. He holds your hand while he drives, thumb rubbing the back your knuckles and watching how you smile at the afternoon light. He sneaks glances at you, noticing, for the first time in a long time  the pink in your cheeks, delicate color on pallid skin.

He finds a old revival theater, in a town so out of the way he’d never be able to find again if his life depended on it. The tickets are cheap, but the popcorn is stale and the only thing playing is a animated kids movie he’s never heard of.

You tell him you can’t believe he’s never seen this movie and you’re definitely staying. It’s a exquisite, rundown theater, you can smell mold and new paint as you sit in ratted seats. You think it’s fantastic. He’s there with you, arm slung over her shoulders as the lights dim and your eyes tear up at the opening credits of An American Tail.

And even though I know how very far apart we are

It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star…

Afterwards, Sam fucks you in the parking lot, you ride him in the backseat, squirming and moving your hips while he bucks up into you. Your teeth chatter over his lips, kisses hard and meant only for him. He fists the pale yellow material of you dress where it’s bunched at your hips, rough hands cupping ass while you ache with lust. Your back curves sharply, harsh gasps when his dick finds your sweet spot and all you can do is say his name. You dig fingers, clawing into his shoulder, cock buried deep, while quivering muscles tug at him. You jerk when he comes quickly with a muffled shout, mouth still pressed into your breast.

In the end it’s not the fairy tale weekend you dream of, it’s just a small moment, something private that’s only yours. There are very few romantic dinners, certainly no opera tickets or moonlit walks - no, instead you get a cheap film, a flask of whiskey and a quick fuck. 

And in this life, not the ideal, not the fairy tale, but in this real existence…it’s perfect.


Major Lasers

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 826

A/N: #4 with Bucky requested by an anon for my 300 follower AU Celebration! Based on the prompt “you’re the last two standing on opposite teams in a game of laser tag” 

You’re heart was hammering in your chest. You were the last one standing. The last Avenger out of a team of six that had been mercilessly cut down in battle. The gun was starting to feel heavy in your hands. Your knees were cramping from being crouched so long. You blinked against the sweat dripping in your eyes, trying to focus your hearing past the 80s hair metal that blared through the speakers. It was just you and the Winter Soldier. Sure, he had 70 years of experience, but you’d be damned if you let someone take away your laser tag championship title.

“Give it up, Y/N,” Bucky called from somewhere in the course. You thought it came from your right, but everything was so dark and the fog machine made it even more difficult to see. “I was the best sniper in my unit.”

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Language! (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

A/N: Sorry for the lack of creativity in the title but it was the prompt that kind of inspired this fic so it seemed fitting. Requested by @little-broken-fire-cracker. I hope you like it! 💙 Also this is my first Bucky fic so I hope it’s okay

Key: Y/N - Your name, Y/N/N - Your nickname

Warnings: Some swearing and the reader throws up

Summary: The Avengers attend the monthly game night but things take a turn for the unexpected when Thor introduces his Asguardian liquor.

Being an Avenger was tough. From the early morning work-outs right up until the late night parties. Regardless, you wouldn’t change a things as you were right where you wanted to be. You had next to no family, those you once had you left behind to live a life where watching your back had to become second nature to you.

The Avengers are your crazy family now and you all looked out for one another. After the ‘small’ Civil War amongst the team was resolved you decided to move into the Avengers Compound with Tony, Rhodey, Steve, Sam, Vision, Thor (when he wasn’t in Asguard or with Jane) and your two best friends Natasha and Wanda. Of course not forgetting the one and only James Buchanan Barnes. God that man would be the death of you.

It all started when Bucky came to live at the Compound with the rest of you after having any remnants of Hydra erased from his mind. As soon as you caught sight of him one morning wearing just a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, you were done for. Nat, Wanda and even Steve knew that you had a little crush on the super soldier but there was no way you were going to admit the truth anytime soon. Or so you thought.

Little did you know that Bucky felt exactly the same way that you did. He had to physically control himself when you came sauntering into the gym day after day wearing booty shorts and a sports bra covering your physique that left little to the imagination. It didn’t really help that he was your sparring partner either.

So here you were on this seemingly uneventful afternoon dodging punch after punch that Bucky threw at you, desperately trying to pin him in any way you could to claim the title as victor. He managed to graze your stomach with his right hand but couldn’t land a single punch.

“Is that all you’ve got Barnes?” You taunted out of breath and your energy fading.

“You haven’t seen anything yet darlin’, let me show you what I’ve got.”

You both locked eyes for a moment until you noticed Bucky leaning towards you stealing subtle glances at your lips. You were only inches apart when Sam sauntered into the gym belting out a Marvin Gaye classic at the top of his lungs. You jumped back instantly and made as much space between you and Bucky as possible.

Bucky inwardly groaned at Sam’s extremely bad timing and vowed to himself that he would tell you how he felt about you soon. As luck would have it, tonight happened to be the Avengers monthly game night.

You quickly bolted from the gym because of the sexual tension that lingered between yourself and a certain Winter Soldier. You didn’t want Sam picking up the tension either as he was the biggest gossip you knew.

The remainder of your afternoon consisted of lounging on your comfy bed wandering what would have happened if it wasn’t for Sam and his major cock-blocking. Glancing at the clock you realised that it was almost time for the game night to commence. Changing into a low-key black dress and applying some make-up you made up your mind. You would tell Bucky how you felt.

Walking towards the elevator you could feel your nerves creeping up on you. If you were going to survive this night then you needed a drink. Before you could press the button to go to the ground floor someone joined you in the confined space.

“Hey Y/N, looking gorgeous as always” Sam quipped. You let out a small chuckle.

“Hey Sammy” you shot back knowing how much he hated the nickname you gave him. He simply gave you a smirk and proceeded to talk to you.

“You know Thor is here right? He’s brought some Asguardian liquor too.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows and nudged you jokingly. He knew how drunk you got when you drank it.

“That’s great Sam” you responded in a monotone voice.

“Oh come on Y/N/N, I challenge you to shots.” You laughed and shook your head. Before he could try and convince you otherwise the ding alerted the both of you that you had reached your location. The nervousness had you on edge.

Walking with Sam towards the living area you caught sight of Bucky wearing black jeans and the red Henley that you loved on him. He obviously sensed you staring as he looked over at you and gave his signature smile. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight; looking away quickly you turned to Sam. “I accept your challenge.”

After quickly greeting your teammates you rushed over to the bar with Sam needing some much needed liquid courage. “C'mon then birdman, lets see if you can hold your booze.”

Thor was pouring shot after shot for you and Sam and after each one you felt a little more drowsy. After about 13 shots Sam gave up as the burning sensation was making him feel sick. You however thought that having a few more was a great idea. You were wrong.

You stood up to join everyone else in what was a very intense game of monopoly but you lost your balance. Luckily Thor was there to catch you before you face planted the floor.

Bucky was watching you throughout the course of your shots challenge with Sam growing more worried about how drunk you were getting. When he saw you nearly fall he got up to help you.

Thor offloaded you onto Bucky and your mind was far too clouded to register who was holding you. “How are you feeling doll?” Bucky asked with concern laced in his husky voice.

“I feel so fucking sick” you sobbed. Apparently you were a bit louder than you thought as you heard Tony yell “Language Y/N/N!”

You practically fainted in Buckys arms, only able to form a few incoherent mumbles. He sat you down on a bar stool and held your face in his hands. Without warning you felt a surge of sickness run through you.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Bucky immediately guided you to the bathroom and as soon as you saw the toilet, you puked. Bucky held your hair back for you while you proceeded to regurgitate the alcohol.

After a good 30 minutes in the bathroom with Bucky holding your hair back and just holding you in his arms between you being sick your mind started to clear. When it did you felt sick all over again. Panic rushed through you when you realised Bucky had just seen you throw up, multiple times.

“Oh God.” You cursed out loud. Bucky was rubbing soothing circles on your lower back when you turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry you had to see any of that, God I feel like such an idiot. I only drank so much because I was going to tell you how much I liked you and I got nervous and then you smiled and oh God, I’m just gonna stop talking now.”

When Bucky hadn’t said anything for short time you looked up to see him grinning. “What are you so happy about Barnes?” You quizzed, feeling slightly anxious about his answer.

“You’re cute when you get flustered doll but at least now I know you feel the same way I do. What do you say? Dinner tomorrow night?” Well that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. Now it was your turn to smile.

“Sounds perfect.” You both smiled lazily at each other feeling like two love crazed teenagers.

After a few moments Bucky spoke up. “C'mon baby girl, let me walk you back to your room.”

A testimony of love

Sam is twelve and looks at his brother with nothing short of hero worship. Dean’s tall and handsome; every teenage-girl’s dream. Light on his feet in a way that Sam will never be, his own legs, too long and lanky that won’t allow him to be anything but clumsy. Hands that he’s watched take apart and reassemble a gun in mere seconds, his movements quick and efficient.  Cocky grin and give-em-hell attitude that demands everyone’s attention; he’s everything that Sam wishes he could be.

Sam is fourteen and still looks at his brother like he hangs the moon. Dean’s now officially an adult and filled out in ways Sam’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be noticing. Broad shoulders that make all his favorites shirts too tight so that they cling to the muscles of his back. Eyes so clover-green that when their attention is on him he wishes he could stop time and live in that moment forever. Those same hands carding through his hair in the middle of the night after a bad nightmare, climbing into his bed and pulling him close even though their father says they’re too old for it now.

Sam is sixteen and has finally come to terms with the fact that he’s in love with his brother and he doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge or himself half the time. Dean’s seemingly more beautiful everyday, so much so, that sometimes it hurts to look at him. To always have him so close and yet never close enough. That voice like liquid heat that pools inside Sam’s belly every time his brother whispers in his ear or calls him ‘Sammy’.

Sam is eighteen and afraid to reveal the sick truth of his heart, how he aches for things that he should never, ever want. So tangled up inside and he fears Dean will discover his secret, wonders how he’s gotten away with it for this long. It’s enough to keep him awake at night, staring at his brother’s sleeping figure and wondering what it would be like to kiss those soft, pink lips, to taste the inside of his mouth… It’s no surprise he ends up leaving for California, needing to put as much space between them as possible before this hunger ruins the only good thing he has.

Sam is twenty two when his brother breaks into his apartment and wrestles him to the ground. Solid weight of muscle on top of him, breath hot and heavy as it washes across his face in the dark room and it all comes rushing back. Everything he tried so desperately to bury, bubbling forth with a new and ravenous desire. “Dad’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days” and just like that he’s back in the game, in the passenger seat at Dean’s side; still strung out on that hundred watt smile but he’s desperate to make this work.

Sam’s twenty three when he starts having psychic visions and he’s scared even if he’ll never admit it. His brother never leaves his side though, promises that nothing bad will ever happen to him as long as he’s around and he doesn’t know what the hell he did to deserve Dean but it’s what fuels his faith and gives him reason to keep fighting.

Before he knows it he’s twenty six  and jumping into the cage with the devil. Saving the world and what he hopes is Dean’s chance at a normal life. A life with someone who can make him truly happy and fill all those spaces in his heart in a way that Sam knows he’s never meant to.

He’s twenty nine  and in an abandoned church, got the king of hell tied to a chair, and ready to, once again, sacrifice himself so he can shut the gates of hell but Dean won’t let him, begs him to stop. “There’s nothing, past or present, that I would put in front of you” and Sam has to bite back the tears that threaten to break free and he can’t help but feel unworthy of his brother’s unwavering devotion.

Then he’s thirty one  and ready to damn the whole world to rid his brother of the mark of Cain that’s branded onto his skin, slowly poisoning and changing his brother into something he doesn’t recognize but he won’t stop till he has him back. He’s fought way to hard to keep him just to lose him like this.

He turns 32 and the darkness is released onto the world and they’re caught in a war between God and his sister but it’s not the first time that heaven rains down it’s issues on them. Caught once again in the middle of an epic battle that verges on ripping the world apart and it’s just another day in the life of the Winchester’s.

Sam is 33  and it’s just him and his brother in a dusty library of an old bunker that they now call home talking about how they can’t believe that they’ve made it this far. They’ve both died more times than they care to count, fate, it seems, hell-bent on breaking them apart but not for long, because they somehow always find their way back to each other.

They’re sharing a drink, allowing the amber liquid to warm it’s way through their systems  when Dean leans close and places a gentle but all- encompassing kiss to his trembling lips, whispers all the things Sam’s so desperately wanted  but never thought he would ever hear. And It’s in that moment that he realizes that Dean has been carrying the same twisted up love in his heart, it’s roots planted just as deep.

“There’s a hushed "Love you Sammy,” that leaves his brother’s lips and it’s so quiet he barely hears it.  It’s him who leans in this time and kisses his brother with a hunger that has  Dean opening his mouth, and eagerly inviting him in.
He pulls away after a minute and rests his forehead against Dean’s and whispers just as softly,…

“Love you too Dee.”

Winners and Losers

An addition for my Kink List, #12 Sex Games with Sabriel for @heavens-archangel.

Summary: Sam is too sore for their usual fun, so Gabriel proposes a game.

warnings: handjobs, competition, past anal sex referenced and future anal sex planned

word count: ~800

A fluttering of wings was all the warning that Sam got before he was wrenched from almost-sleep. He’d gone to bed thinking that Gabriel was busy, that he would have a night to catch up on the sleep he’d been losing ever since starting this relationship-thing with the angel, but apparently he’d been wrong.

Gabriel maneuvered Sam so that he was laying on his stomach, Gabriel draped on top of him.  The angel began peppering kisses along his neck and shoulders as he rutted against Sam’s plump cheeks, groaning in anticipation.

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The Boy in the Bar ~ smut

Author: completedylantrash

Characters: reader x Dylan O’Brien


Word Count: 1969

Synopsis: You meet Dylan in a bar

A/N: Okay, this is inspired by this picture I saw on Instagram posted by @hollandsobrien and I almost lost my mind and this is what came out of it. It’s kinda short but I had to. I’m sorry.  LOOK AT THAT FACE! 

Cigarette smoke and bourbon. That’s all I could smell in this shit hole of a bar. I’m not complaining though. I’ve spent most of my nights in this place for the past month or so, drowning my sorrows because let’s face it…life fucking sucks.

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Avenging Angel: Part 33

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 1766

Warnings: Slight Dom!Sam dirty talk

A/N: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba remember a few weeks ago when I was writing about Sam and dirty talk? Well, this was it. I figure it’s only fair that I post this today, after that gif you tagged me in this morning ;)

Avenging Angel Series Masterlist

“No.” Your father’s firm voice rang through the house. Curious, you put down your dolls and crept towards the stairs.

“Kemuny, this could be the one—“

“The one that could kill her! Victoria, we are done doing this. This discussion is closed.” As you peered around the corner, you saw your daddy standing up straight and resolute. He was never this serious. Whatever was going on between mommy and daddy must be very important. “We made our decision. I don’t care what that ass of a shifter says. We’re done. It’s for her safety. Our daughter’s safety.”

Mommy frowned. “But after everything we’ve done, this could—“

“Exactly. After everything we’ve done. She’s our daughter, not a petri dish.”


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anonymous asked:

Help me out here. What is the fuss about Sam and his whereabouts? And why do people think that DSC is in Scotland? And WTF is going on? Are we going to last long this hiatus?

No fuss as far as I am concerned!

Apparently Cait spent the long weekend after the wrap party on a safari tour of a game preserve in SA. Sam was MIA during that time as well. It doesn’t take a brilliant mathematician to add THAT up! Now he seems to be back in Scotland for a short while, probably to pack a few things before Wimbledon and/or the start of rehearsal for his new movie project which will shoot in European locations this summer.

As for the whereabouts of other persons of interest; on Sunday one such person was in Pittsburgh PA USA and was taking pics from the top of Mt. Washington, a high place which overlooks that city- this person seems to have a thing about high places. Whatever. And and on Tuesday this same person was “napping”, in a robe, on a couch, completely camera ready in digital quality studio makeup and dressed hair. Presumably working. This person is an actress, and that’s what actresses look like when they are working. And a good long way from anywhere in Europe.

So not much going on, really. A couple on a long weekend holiday. A person at work in a city. Just people getting on with life as far as I can see. As to how long we will last during this hiatus? Who knows. I guess that all depends on how many anti blogs you choose to read- or believe.
I thought I'd go back to designing Keyblades as I adore Kingdom Hearts.

Name: Septic Champion

Owner: Jacksepticeye

High Attack
Medium Magic
Low Defence
Ability: MP hastega. Magic reload speed is significantly increased

Jack’s Keyblade is a reflection of himself. The fire colours on the hilt represent his energy and enthusiasm. The rain guard has Sans on as it’s one of his favourite games (and I can’t draw the Shadow of the colossus logo that small) The shamrock key chain and the flag colours down the main part blade are there because of his pride of being an Irishman. Jack’s Keyblade wouldn’t be complete without Septiceye Sam who tops off the design.

Name: Glitched Soul

Owner: Antisepticeye

High Attack
Medium Defence
Low Magic
Ability: Combo Boost. Greater damage dealt the longer combo attacks are.

Anti’s ability to glitch is shown in the Keyblade in both the main and end parts with the glitches clustering to form an intimidating edge. The glitches on the main part are surrounded by a void of black to represent the darkness he came from. The hilt of the Keyblade are in two shades of red to reflect the blood that is always present when he appears. The hilt is pointed to reflect how dangerous he can be. The knife keychain is there as he has been seen holding knives in videos.

Avenging Angel: Part 2

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 1539

Warnings: None

Part 1 of Avenging Angel

“Good night, honey bear,” your father whispered, kissing your forehead as you snuggled deeper under your covers. “Sleep tight.”

He turned to leave your room and you sat up in panic. “Daddy?”

“Yes, bear?” He took a few steps back into your room.

“Daddy, you won’t leave me, right? I don’t want you and mommy to leave me.”

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