OKAY BUT THE FACT THAT WHEN HE SAYS “I LOVE YOU” HE LOOKS AWAY AND HE’S ALMOST SMILING.
LIKE HE KNOWS WHO HE’S SPEAKING TO IN PARTICULAR BUT STILL DOESN’T WANT TO SAY IT DIRECTLY.
AND THEN HE LOOKS UP AND HE ADDS “ALL OF YOU” WHICH IS THE TRUTH, BUT IT’S ALSO NOT WHAT HE REALLY MEANT.
I’m going to stab myself and it will be less painful.
Summary: you have never been seen as beautiful, never been noticed, always picked last, in love and daily life, you pretend you’re fine with it, that you can live with it, until you start catching feelings for a certain super soldier, which he doesn’t return.it, until you start catching feelings for a certain super soldier, which he doesn’t return.
Pairings: Bucky X Reader (Unrequited Bucky), Steve x reader (Platonic), Natasha x reader (Platonic), Avengers x reader, Dean X reader, Cas x reader, Sam x reader TFW x Reader
Word Count: 1354
6 months ago
“Hey, B? Can we talk?” you ask, fidgeting nervously with the frayed sleeve of your battered sweatshirt. It was your favorite, a neon pink monstrosity with a Wookie riding a motorcycle on it, your sister had given to you before she’d left for New Zealand many years ago. What made her buy it, you had no idea. You weren’t particularly fond of pink, but anything with a Wookie on it was fine in your book. It needed to be thrown away, but you couldn’t bear to part with it.
“Yeah, doll,” Bucky replies, placing the book he was reading on the coffee table with a small thud and turning to face you, his gaze curious and slightly afraid, his brow furrowed with worry.
“We’ve been friends for years, Buck…” you trail off uncertainly, self-doubt crawling up your spine. Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another, you pull at the bottom of your hoodie trying to make yourself smaller. Your eyes dart from his to the floor, from the floor to the ceiling, finally settling on staring out the window. Shoving the self-doubt down, you muster all the confidence you can willing yourself to speak the words which reside in your heart. What’s the worst that could happen? Breathing deeply, you wrap your arms around your waist trying to hold yourself together.
“Doll?” Bucky questions worriedly. Rising from the couch, he moves toward you.
You hold up a single hand.
He stops immediately, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Sighing heavily, you let your hand fall. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, not at all. You’d practiced and everything damn it!
“Have you ever thought about more, y’know, for us?” you whisper, finally meeting his eyes which are curiously blank. The look makes your heart sink. God, you were such a fool. What were you thinking?
“Do ya mean like a… a relationship?” he asks, his voice flat.
You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, in too deep to pull out now. You had to see this through. Nodding once, you ignore the sharp intake of breath from Bucky.
“Ya feel that way about me, doll?” he asks gently, moving cautiously forward. Precise movements, like he’s approaching a scared animal.
You do your best not to flinch when he lays a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to try and catch your gaze. Again you nod, eyes trained firmly on the floor.
He sighs and retracts his hand, dragging it nervously through his hair. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I don’t…” he swallows nervously when your face drains of color, your ruby red lips becoming a sharp contrast against your pale skin. “I don’ feel that way about ya,” he whispers, his heart breaking as your tears start to fall. “Hey… hey look at me,” he says, but you refuse, staring at a point just past his shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Shadow, I just don’ wanna ruin that, ya know?” he says uncertainly.
You feel hot and cold, the embarrassment and rejection a living thing you worming its way beneath your skin. Shoving it down, all of it, every single emotion currently beating against your scarred heart, you raise your eyes to meet his and smile.
His brow furrows once more, and he opens his mouth to say something else, but you cut him off before he can.
“It’s fine, Bucky. It was stupid. I was stupid. See ya later,” you say calmly, turning on your heel and marching from the room.
“(Y/N)! Wait!” he calls after you.
Ignoring him, you instruct F.R.I.D.A.Y not to let anyone in your room for good measure, needing time to tape back together the pieces of your shattered heart.
You wish you could say you were handling things maturely, that you’d taken the rejection in stride, that you’d carried on with your friendship as if you hadn’t spilled your guts all over him then bolted out the room like a broken hearted teenager.You really wish you could, it wasn’t the first time you had been cast unceremoniously aside, but you weren’t going to think about him. Not again.
Instead, you had systematically distanced yourself from Bucky, stopped the Saturday movie nights, stopped going out to dinner, stopped joking around, until there was nothing left but distance. A seven-year friendship destroyed by your inability to accept and move on.
Bucky had tried, he really had, pursuing you with a single mindedness which scared you. He refused to give up. He needed you. Next to Steve you were the only one he connected with, but even he had his limits and five months in all contact stopped.
Crippling loneliness had set in, so lost were you in your self-imposed isolation you barely noticed the drop in temperature, or the faint rustling of wings, or the distinct sound of weapons being drawn.
“Shadow,” the gruff voice of your favorite angel washes over you, startling you back into reality.
Eyes snapping up, they widen comically as you take in the state of the living area.
Steve had his shield raised, ready to strike, Bucky was twirling a knife menacingly in his hand, Sam had his fists raised ready to unleash hell if Cas dared moved a muscle.
Cas’s smooth forehead pinched downward. Waving a hand, Bucky, Sam, and Steve fly backward into the couches. “I will not harm you,” he says evenly to the confused men as he turns to you, your face slack with surprise. “You were praying,” he says quietly.
A vivid red burns through your cheeks, your eyes instinctively dropping to the floor, trying to hide the burning embarrassment.
“You are hurting” he says worriedly as he yanks you upward, placing a cool hand on your forehead attempting to heal you.
You shrug him off, clicking your tongue with annoyance. “Stop it! I’m fine, Cas. Where are they?” you ask peering behind the couch, expecting a Winchester to jump out any second.
He frowns anxiously, attempting to drag you back toward him.
Shrugging off every attempt, getting pissier by the second, you finally bark, “Enough, Castiel! Where. Are. They?”
He sighs and cocks his head to the side, finally relenting. “They are preparing to leave the Bunker. Dean wishes for you to come home,” he says quietly.
You groan loudly, earning raised eyebrows from Bucky who until this point had been staring at Cas like he was mildly concussed. “I’m not going back, Cas. You know I can’t. Not after…” Swallow thickly, you turn your back on the Angel.
He grunts, knowing the story. He’d been dead, albeit momentarily, but Sam had filled him in on the blanks. It wasn’t a pleasant tale. He could smell the anxiousness wafting off you.
“Lisa and Dean-” Cas begins only for you to hiss at him, eyes darting between him and Bucky.
“This is not the place for this discussion. Go back to Moose and Squirrel and inform them I do not need, nor do i want, their help. They need to stay the fuck away from me! In fact, I think all the men in my life need to back the fuck up. I do not need you!” you spit venomously, eyes trained firmly on Bucky who flinches at the acid in your tone. You look back to where Cas was standing not a second before, seeing nothing but air. Sighing heavily, stamping your foot petulantly, you drag your hand across your face.
Steve snorts, gaining your attention. “Best start explaining, (Y/N) .”
Hey, I’m kinda new on this asking requests thing, sorry if I’m doing it wrong. But, for the latest promt board you just put up, I was wondering if you could do promts 2, 86, and 91? Sorry again if I’m doing this wrong. It would be for a castiel x reader. It would mean lot if you could make a story out of it. I love your writing! Have an amazing day! @animewolf7
2: “Hey,hey calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
86: “Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”
91: “Tell me you need me.”
A/N: I hate angst with my smol angel bean. But this is for you so… enjoy! I legit cried when I was writing this.
warnings: language (as always) and angst
Cas was dying. Simple as that. But what you didn’t know, was why. You walked through the bunker to the library where Sam and Dean sat. You slammed your hands down on the table, causing them to jump.
“What the hell is wrong with Cas!”
They looked at each other.
“No, no, no.. Don’t look at each other to come up with an excuse! Look at me and tell me the damn truth,” you snarled.
Sam looked at you as Dean sighed and rested his head on the table.
“You know that he fell from heaven and the other angels were after him?”
You stalled in your stride as your eyes were pulled instinctively toward that familiar strong jawline and broad shoulders. Your hands and jaw clenched involuntarily and you did your best to take in a steadying breath, as though it would be a tonic for your nerves and your suddenly racing heart.
It didn’t take long for him to notice you. Perhaps he felt your eyes on him.
When he glanced over at you, your eyes connected and you did your best to remain unreadable. Your feet were rooted to the concrete, but he was instantly on his, his coffee left on the table, swirls of steam drifting lazily away on the breeze. You couldn’t help thinking that was a metaphor of how he had left you…
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as he approached. His expression was cloudy–whether by design or actuality you could be sure.
He stopped in front of you, his lips parting and mouthing wordlessly for a brief moment before he uttered, “Hey.”
The gravel and gruff quality in his voice was just as you remembered it, and it instantly brought a rush of feelings swelling upward, released from the box you had done your best to shove them into and padlock. Now it was like the lock had never been there… or maybe he just had the key.
You didn’t respond and only stared at him, your eyes flickering over his face.
“This is a surprise,” he said, rubbing a hand nervously over the back of his neck. There was something bubbling up in his chest that he was doing his best not to acknowledge.
“Mhm,” you responded.
“You here on a job?” he asked. He couldn’t keep his eyes on you. If he did, it might betray what was surging beneath the surface. He felt himself barely containing it.
“Yeah. Probably the same one you are,” you said. Your breathing was shallow and you clenched your teeth, trying to choke back all the things you wanted to say that were screaming in your head.
Dean nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets. Memories of you, your smile, that spark in your eyes, the smell of your shampoo on his pillow, the feel of you in his arms, all played in his mind’s eye. He was having a hard time staying steady, concentrating. The flashbacks were overwhelming. He wanted so badly to tell you; he had to do what he did to protect you. It had been the hardest thing he had ever done. He loved you. He still loved you. Knowing how he had broken your heart nearly destroyed him… and it broke his own too. A thousand thoughts rushed through his brain at once. Just let them tumble out, came a voice in his head. Just explain it all.
But how could he begin? How could you ever forgive him for what he’d done?
“Listen… I–” he began.
You let out a sigh that was half a scoff and interrupted him. “Don’t,” you said. There was a wry smile on your lips. “Just–don’t.” Your eyes turned away, fell to the ground with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
Dean struggled. A desire to connect with you seized him, to let his hands float to your waist, to pull you to him, to kiss you and put everything that had happened between you aside and wipe the slate clean, to somehow show you that you were everything he didn’t deserve…
“I’ve gotta go,” you said, and without another word you turned away, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you felt Dean’s hand close gently around yours.
You rolled over and grabbed the warm torso of your angel,
who lay naked beside you. There was nothing you loved more than waking up
beside him, knowing that he kept you safe through the night. You slid your hand
up his broad chest, taking in the sweet scent that always seems to radiate from
“Good morning,” you murmured as you leaned in and kissed his
Cas peered down at you with a sweet smile. “Good morning,
Y/N.” He gently lifted your chin up with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet.
His lips met yours before you could take another breath. The angel quickly
crawled over you, placing himself between your legs as his tongue dominated
“Mmm,” you moaned into his mouth as your fingers snaked over
his skin. You broke the kiss, chuckling as you stared up at Cas. “Someone’s in
a good mood this morning,” you toyed.
Summary – You’ve
been acting strangely for days, and Team Free Will decides it’s high time you
told them what was going on.
Word Count – 3,348
Warnings – Mentions
and of past child abuse
A/N – Anonymous request:
“Can I have a fic where Sam and Dean treat the reader like a younger sister,
with her living in the bunker with them cause her mom was killed while they
were hunting something? She always told them that her dad wasn’t in the
picture, but like 6 years later she starts acting weird and getting stressed
out over nothing. One of the bros finally finds out she’s being weird because
her dad just got out of jail on child abuse charges and is trying to get her to
live with him again. Thanks.”
I hope you enjoy it, Nonnie! I switched it up just slightly…I hope
that’s ok! It certainly took a turn I
wasn’t expecting. Thank you for your
request! And special thanks to @nothin-after-79 for being my beta on this one!
It didn’t take much for the guys to realize something was
really bothering you. You’d lived with
them for six years, and they were your best friends. You all knew each other inside and out. So it was easy to see the almost immediate
change in your behavior and mannerisms.
When your smile disappeared almost overnight, they started paying closer
attention, waiting and hoping that you’d come to one of them to talk about what
was wrong. When a few days passed and you
still hadn’t spoken to anyone and you were still acting uncharacteristically
quiet and jumpy, Dean decided a family meeting was in order.
Summary: 5 years after the events of CACW, you are the live-in therapist for the newly reconciled Avengers, Steve’s Fiancé. The first words your soulmate speaks appears on your body, but only after your first conversation has taken place, making it impossible to know who your soulmate is, what will happen when Steve brings Bucky to live at the compound?
Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader
Warnings: ANGST. Depression, Violence, Smut, Mutant Reader (ALWAYS) powers include immortality, healing, and telekinesis. Currently, can’t think of anything else.
Summary: You are the sister of Charles Xavier, You are part of the Avengers and Dating Bucky Barnes, Unbeknownst to you Bucky is having an affair with Natasha, you catch them in the act and things go downhill from there. You are a Mutant with Similar powers to Jean, Only with Immortality thrown in.
Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Bucky X Natasha, Logan Howlett X Reader
Warnings: Angst, Violence, Cheating, Feelings of worthlessness, Depression.
Summary: You and Bucky Barnes have been friends for years, you are deeply, completely in love with the super soldier, but he sees you as nothing more than a little sister, what happens when Bucky starts to date in earnest?deeply, completely in love with the super soldier, but he sees you as nothing more than a little sister, what happens when Bucky starts to date in earnest?
Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of the night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence, And Smut
Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader, Platonic!Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader
Summary: After a rough mission Bucky comes home to you broken, he pulls away from you, stays out late, comes home drunk and smelling like alcohol and cheap perfume, you confront him about his behavior, Bucky reacts in a way you did not expect, and it destroys your relationship.
Summary: you have never been seen as beautiful, never been noticed, always picked last, in love and daily life, you pretend you’re fine with it, that you can live with it, until you start catching feelings for a certain super soldier, which he doesn’t return.it, until you start catching feelings for a certain super soldier, which he doesn’t return.
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Violence.
Pairings: Bucky X Reader (Unrequited Bucky), Steve x reader (Platonic), Natasha x reader (Platonic), Avengers x reader, Dean X reader, Cas x reader, Sam x reader TFW x Reader
Hunts where you had to deal with witches, were never a favorite of mine. Or any hunter’s really. But this one, had hit an all time low. Considering the witch, wasn’t even a witch. Instead, it was an angel, still pretending it was a trickster, Gabriel. An angel I’d thought was dead. Clearly not the case though, how? No idea. Because next thing I knew, me, Castiel, and my brothers Sam and Dean, were in a place I didn’t recognize.
It was night, we were on our knees. ropes tied around our hands, guns aimed at our heads, a bunch of people around us in the same situation. I didn’t know any of them, except for this one girl she looked oddly familiar, she was right next to me, she looked sick. Like she was about to puke, or die even. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t like it.
I’d just realized why she looked so familiar. “..Bella?” I whispered. She looked at me, but she looked confused. I don’t think she recognized me, before I could say any thing else, one of the people behind me, hit the back of my head, hard. I wanted to turn around and punch them. But, that wasn’t an option. “No talking. Negan’ll be out soon. So shut your mouth, okay you piece of sh*t?” Negan? who the heck was Negan? Was I supposed to know? Or even care? These people sure did. Pure horror in their faces. It made my stomach turn. Just then, the door to an RV I didn’t even notice was there opened up. A guy stepped out. One I definitely knew.
“Torn” || Stiles Stilinski x Reader || Chapter Three
I do not own any of the gifs or images used on my blog unless stated otherwise.
Chapters: ONE | TWO | THREE Warnings?: None, yay. Requests?: Probably, my brain can’t process my inbox sometimes, welp.
Genre: Drama/Romance/Angst Rated: PG-13
(Y/N): Your Name
(E/C): Eye Color
(H/C): Hair Color
Word Count: 1,923 Shipping: Stiles Stilinski x Reader
When the morning sunshine rose up with bright rays, it grazed the trees, creating a look of golden hour. Birds were chirping, quietly, the sky was a pleasing shade of blue. Everyone in Beacon Hills was slowly waking up from their slumber. Getting ready to hustle and rustle, including you.
Your eyes flutter open to a gentle, yet noticeable shaking. You slowly turned your head to the side, with eyes that weren’t ready to be exposed to the bright sunlight, to see the big smiles of the pack.
You smiled back, in surprise to see them in your room.
Each and every member was there, looking like their usual self.
Except for two…
You didn’t want to see the two anyways… you have your real friends with you, who wouldn’t back stab you.
“Guys? Why are you doing here? Or even here at all? You don’t usually come over.” You asked, sliding yourself from your fetus position to a placement where you could see their faces.
“Well, we couldn’t let you leave without our proper goodbye’s and your basket of goods from us, could we love?” Chuckled Isaac, lifting up the gift baskets that have your favorite chocolates, movies, and small little gifts peeking out from everywhere. “Also, one more thing. I bought you $200 worth of shirts from your favorite music artists, so now you owe me $100 ba-Ow! The hell?! Those shirts weren’t cheap, Lydia! You’re filthy rich.”
Issac snarled at Lydia while she did the same
You grinned at the sight in front of you. It makes your heart flutter about how much they cared for you and just overall love you. It saddens you that you wouldn’t be seeing them for awhile, but it’s the best for a hiatus from Beacon and it’s… Stiles.
“Awww guys, you didn’t have to. You’re making me so flustered. Ugh! Come give me a hug!” You smiled brightly, widening your arms for each and every one of them to attack you in one big group hug.
“I’m going to miss you all, so much. What am I going to do without you?” You said, fighting the tears that were trying to escape from your (E/C) eyes.
But you couldn’t.
The tears slowly dripped down your cheeks as your best friends continue to embrace you, and whisper sweet little things. You loved them, you loved them so much and you couldn’t hold back the emotions you had. They are part of your family, and you wouldn’t replace them with anyone else.
“We love you loads (Y/N), remember that when you’re away from us.”
“Keep safe. We don’t want to lose you in any way.”
“So, you better be squeaky clean when you return, you hear me.”
“You know she won’t be, Kira. You know her better-”
“Shut up Liam! Just keep a lookout (N/N), I love you.”
“We all do.”
You smiled into their chests, blushing from their love. You cherished them so much, it was undeniable.
No one can replace them.
“Ahem- I don’t want to ruin this beautiful moment but (Y/N), sweetheart, they’re almost here, you should get ready.” Said your mother. With the sudden entrance, it made you jump in the spot in surprise before chuckling away an “Okay”.
As you got yourself refreshed and a new set of clothes, the pack and the rest of your family were waiting down in the kitchen, chowing down on some of your mother’s delicious breakfast.
You quickly brushed your luscious (H/C) hair out, using your hand and grabbed the bags full of belongings that you packed the night before and headed downstairs.
When you arrived downstairs, the aroma of your mother’s breakfast makes you drool in hunger. As your mother saw you step foot in the kitchen, she instantly provided you a breakfast that consisted of her homemade hash browns, an omelet, 3 small sausages and 2 slices of toast. Ohmygod!!! Damn, it looked amazing!!! You immediately seized the plate from her hand and started to devour every single thing.
You can never stop a savage from eating, especially you.
After moments of bonding and consuming home cooked food for the last time before you go on your hiatus, a very familiar black 1967 Chevy Impala appeared in front of your home, with 3 familiar faces. The tall, jacked build of one of them, with the addition of classic Led Zeppelin songs blasting out, made you recognize them even more.
They have finally arrived.
Your Winchesters, and angel.
When your parents eventually acknowledged that the 3 men have arrived. They hurriedly wiped everything up, to help you out before you leave them, temporarily as Liam, Isaac, and Scott all assisted you and clutched your bags from your grip and dragged it out the door along with you by their side.
As you stepped out of your home, the handsome profile of Dean Winchester stepped out his precious car. When you looked up from the floor while walking towards the impala, you met the stunning green eyes that you have grown to recognize instantly, with no second thought at all.
“Dean.” You stated with wide eyes, surprised and just overall, speechless to see him after years of separation. Chills ran through your body as you jogged over to him to embrace each other, with big smiles. “Hello, little fire witchling.”
The nickname, fire witchling was given to you by him and his brother, Sam because you were a hybrid of a witch, a Fire Witch to be exact and a dragon. Your whole entire family on your mother’s side have generations and generations of witches and wizards within them, while your father has generations and generations of a dragon bloodline. Since you’re the offspring of both supernatural beings, you have a cross of supernatural abilities of a dragon and a witch.
Making you the fire witchling, according to the two brothers.
It was your little thing.
“Ahem! We’re here too (Y/N), don’t tell me you forgotten us alrea-”
Soon realizing that you were hugging Dean a little too long, you released yourself from the embrace and attacked the moose and angel with an overflowing hug.
“Oh shut up Sammy, how can I forget you or Castiel? I missed both of you, like crazy.”
“Ha, I missed you too, you little fire witchling.” Chuckled Sam, hugging your frame tighter as you tighten your grip of his big build of a moose.
“I missed you, child. We all did.” Looking up at the sound of Castiel, you could recognize his puppy-like face, with his lovely blue eyes. He smiled his toothy grin and you returned the same toothy smile.
“It’s great to see all of you, it really is. I want to show you guys something.” You beamed vividly, grabbing the hands of Sam and Castiel as Dean followed, towards the pack, who were watching silently with your parents as you had a hug fest with the guys, with small friendly grins to walk over to you. “This is the pack or the bestest friends ever.”
The eyes of both the pack and the guys met, while they presented each other with smiles and small talk. While your parents hugged the fellow men who they both have come to love and appreciate too. They are basically members of the (L/N) family.
“It’s really nice to meet you all. It really is, but unfortunately, we should get going now.” Sam said, checking the black watch on his wrist.
“Sad to say, but he’s right. It’s about time for Team Free Will to hit the road.” Admitted Dean as he downed a bottle of Corona given by your father.
“It’s been nice meeting you too, you better be treating our (Y/N) well while she’s away.” said Scott, with the face of kindness and protection while hugging your shoulders.
“Always, you do the same too, you hear me? Or it won’t be pretty.” Dean warned whilst Sam nudged him in the side, harshly, giving him the stink eye.
“Always. We promise.” Turning to your friends with a large smile on your face, you quickly grabbed their hands and brought all of them to a group hug. Oh boy… this is going to difficult.
You feel small tear drops rolling down your cheeks as you stood there with your friends hugging you out. The emotion within the embrace was utterly sincere and made you want to stay like that forever. Soon realizing that they were shedding some tears too, you tightened the hug even more.
“Good.” Dean nodded his head, knowing the love and trust held inside the group is true and pure. He trusted their words and was satisfied to have his witchling find friends with a connection of passion.
You smiled against the chest of Derek as all of you continued to hug each other, knowing that they have gained the trust of Dean. That means “less” over protective Dean.
After seconds have passed, you released yourself from the hug and told them, “It’s time for me to go now.” They nodded, understanding that it is the time for you to leave for days, eventually months.
As you walked to your parents, Derek clutched all your suitcases of belongings towards Dean’s impala while you struck your parents with hugs and kisses and they did the same.
“I’ll miss you both, hope everything goes well while I’m gone.”
“Us too sweetheart. I know the hazards Dean and Sam go through every day but I know you can control your powers and use them to their full extent so please keep safe, please!”
“I’ll try mother, I promise.”
“Good, now you wouldn’t want to leave the trio waiting for you, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course not. I better get going then. Remember, I love you both. Farewell for now. Goodbye!!!” You waved them goodbye with a little smile while trotting to the black impala.
Inching closer and closer towards the car, you feel your heart pounding faster and faster, feeling a small moment of guilt for leaving your family and the pack behind for months and months until you are ready to take your life in Beacon full on.
But it’s got to happen for your own sake.
“I’m ready to go now.” You said with a pursed grin, bobbing your head a little, indicating you’re ready to briefly push everything to a small corner of your soul.
Dean nodded his head and took out his keys to open all the doors, “Okay, get in sweetheart.”
You opened the door to the old car and placed yourself in the backseat with Castiel as Sam called shotgun. Dean entered the driver’s seat after he closed the trunk with a loud bang. He started up the engine, fixed the rear view mirror, and turned around to face you with a small smile.
“How are you feeling kiddo?”
Overwhelmed would be the word to describe how you feel at the moment, with all these emotions flowing in at once. You were leaving your family behind, and it was hard for you, especially leaving your best friends. Even though you weren’t leaving them forever, it created a heavy weight on your poor little heart. But you gotta grow some bigger balls and suck it up. Gotta get ready for the life of dealing supernatural creatures 24/7.
“I feel great.”
It was true, very true, even if you’re feeling overwhelmed. Today is the day where you will drive away from this drama filled place and move on to adventure.
It was the time.
And you’re ready as you’ll ever be.
He smiled, “Good.”
You smiled back.
“Let's hit the road boys.”
A/N: Finally chapter three! after so long, here it is! I honestly think my writing in this series is cringy and shit, but since you like it a lot, I’m going to continue it with the best writing I can come up with. Chapter four is coming out in a few weeks, so wait for me, my love. Enjoy babes <3 xx
Summary: Bucky drops a bomb, We get a little peek at the past
Pairings: Dean x reader. Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Smut with a plot? how does one describe this? NSFWish pic
Word Count: 1340
Dean roughly kicks the door closed behind him, crowding you into a wall, blood, and bits of werewolf coating you both. He fumbles with the buttons of his stone washed jeans, freeing himself from the confines of his underwear.
You yank your own pants down, and he grabs you by the back of the thighs, lifting, slamming your back into the wall. No words are spoken as he enters you. There’s no need. You know what he wants, what he needs from you.
He growls as he sets a bruising pace, your bodies in sync with each other. He claims your lips in a bruising kiss, and you gasp into his mouth as he hits that perfect spot inside you. The dingy motel bathroom echoing with the sounds of skin hitting skin, he moans low in his throat, nipping at yours, an action that’s uncharacteristically affectionate.
You throw your head back as he fucks into you roughly. All words were stolen from you as he plays your body expertly, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust, with every soft touch. “Dean,” you moan.
His hips falter at your words, a garbled “Fuck,” leaving his lips as he shifts places, moving you on the counter. slowing his pace and cupping your face in his hands, he kisses you softly, lovingly. He pulls away, yanking your shirt over your head, cups your breasts reverently. His green eyes dark and hooded, clouded with emotion that isn’t just lust. “(Y/N),” he whispers, eyes meeting yours as he pushes your thighs wider, his hands grabbing at every piece of flesh he can, his plush lips leaving marks and bruises as he kisses a path up against your neck. He enters you swiftly, sheathing himself deeply inside you, filling you so well, the feeling so euphoric you’d give anything to keep him here with you, to take you over and over until you’re writhing whimpering mess underneath him, on top of him, however, he wants you.
“Please!” you beg and he pulls you closer, grinding into you deeply, barely pulling out, his hips swiveling as he hits your spot perfectly, pubic bone grinding onto your clit, creating a sensation so mind numbing you can only whimper.
He knows your body, your soul, intimately, all your secrets, you were his completely and he knew it. In these moments he knew how much he meant to you.
The way your hands would clutch at him tightly, the way you would call his name like a prayer, the way your eyes would follow him during a hunt, always having his back, patching him up more times he could count. You were his rock, his anchor, he would tell you things he couldn’t tell Sam. You knew exactly what he needed before he did, never denying him, opening yourself to him whenever the nightmares came.
He claims your lips once more as you come, pouring every ounce of feeling he has into the kiss, groaning as your spasmodic clenching triggers his own release. He swallows your moans eagerly, running his fingers through your hair, an action which both soothed him and you. Coaxing you back to him, worshipping your lips, you were his, only his. These stolen moments, heated quickies in seedy bars and grungy motel rooms, stolen kisses, and loaded looks were what he lived for. It was the only thing that kept him from the brink of madness. He closes his eyes and savors the taste of your lips, just a little longer, just a bit more.
He pulls away from your lips, and you sigh in disappointment. He chuckles at the look on your face, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles at you masking the guilt he feels. “Sam will be back soon,” he says as he tugs at the ends of your hair.
You purr at the feeling. Sighing softly, you cast your eyes downward. “Will you ever tell him?” you ask hopefully.
His heart drops into his stomach as he wraps your hair around his hand, pulling backward, forcing you to look at him. “Why do you need him to know?” he asks defensively, his face pinched into a frown.
“I’m tired of sneaking around, De. I just want a little normal.”
He sighs, kissing you passionately, stealing the protests from your lips. “I know,” he says as he pulls away from you. “I don’t want to share you, sweetheart. It’s just…” he trails off, his eyes begging you to understand.
You shove down the rejection, the rising repulsion you feel at yourself. Instead, you smile lovingly at him. “I understand.”
He smiles beautifully at you, melting your heart once again. With a wink he’s pulling out of you, turning his back on you, grabbing some toilet paper as he pulls up his pants. He didn’t want to see the heartbreak on your face. He didn’t want to see what his selfishness was doing to you. He hands it to you, gracing you with a last wink as he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone.
“Hey,” you call out, stopping Bucky in his tracks.
His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his sides.
You frown, thoroughly annoyed at his distance over the last few days.
He barely looked at you, barely spoke to you.
You had no idea what you had done wrong, how you had messed up this time, but you were done wondering. Jogging toward him, you come to a stop behind him tapping him on the shoulder. “What’s up with you?” you ask angrily.
His shoulders sag as he turns toward you.
You stifle a gasp at his appearance.
Heavy bags frame his eyes, his skin pale, eyes red rimmed, lips chapped from biting them.
“Bucky?” you breathe, “What’s going on?” you ask worriedly. Stepping closer to him, you entwine your fingers with his metal ones and he seems to sigh with relief.
Relishing your touch, his eyes closed, the frown smoothing off his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, causing confusion to sweep through you, and you opt to remain silent, to let him speak. “I need you…” he says, the inner turmoil plain on his face, “I don’t know if it’s friendship anymore. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I… don’t know!” he says ripping his hand from yours.
Your eyes go wide, hope and fear mingling into a hot ball in your stomach.
“Why?!” he yells, pulling himself to his full height, looming over you. “Why did you have to tell me you loved me? Ya have me in knots, Shadow! I can’t think, I can’t sleep. All I think about is you, and I don’t want to!” he says as he throws his hand into the air.
“Calm down,” you reply quietly, not daring to move in case you set him off. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, B. You’re gonna need to explain.”
He huffs, chuckling dryly, shaking his head. “That’s the thing, (Y/N), I don’t know. You’re a part of me. The only woman I’ve trusted in a long time. My friend,” he replies in a voice devoid of all emotion, “Now I can’t stop thinking about ya. How Ya feel in my arms, how your smile lights up a room, and I don’t know if this is friendship anymore. I don’t want it to be more. I just want ta be your friend!”
You suck in a breath, not daring to hope, not daring to feel, to let yourself dream of a future with him. Reigning in your emotions, you wrap your arms around him, ignoring the way he tenses under your touch. “It’s okay, Bucky. We don’t have to be more. We can be just this. I promise,” you whisper as the tension leaves him.
He tentatively wraps his arms around you, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you.”
Your heart sinks. You’ve done the right thing your conscience screams, but you can’t help but feel you let your one and only chance with him die.
Tags: Under the cut. Strikethrough means tags aren’t working. If you aren’t tagged, it’s because of the smut.
”Mother,” Crowley said sternly, slamming the heavy door behind him.
”Yes, Fergus?” Rowena replied, sipping at her tea, ruby red lips delicately pursed against porcelain.
Crowley straightened his tie and paced towards Rowena. “You seem to have forgotten some rather important details about our arrangement,” he said.
”Oh? And what details are those, darling?” The teacup made a sharp clink as it settled back on the saucer.
”Namely, that WE HAVE NO ARRANGEMENT!” Crowley screamed, his face suddenly boiling red.
Rowena pretended to look shocked. “Whatever is the matter? Am I not allowed to take certain steps to further your rule? I was only making certain that the prisoner complies!” she shouted back, standing to face her son.
Hell, he didn’t know how he didn’t realize immediately.
Cas is standing a few feet away from him, watching him calmly, but it’s not Cas. That is not Cas’s calm, that is not his awkward head tilt, that is not his slowly-spreading rueful smile.
Dean feels a cold chill down his spine.
How the fuck does one not notice that their best friend is possessed by the freaking Devil?
“I was wondering how long it would take you,” Cas- no, Lucifer - says, like this had been a game to him, a cat stalking a mouse until the mouse noticed. Lucifer sighed. “I think I expected it to take longer, though I suppose…” He flexes his hand, staring at it critically, then touches his face at his temple. “It would have become obvious eventually.”
Dean remember’s Nick, Lucifer’s first vessel, and has a sudden, vivid mental image of those same burns appearing on Cas’s face as Lucifer burns him out.
“Cas, you can fight this,” he says. His heart is pounding, instincts screaming at him to run, find a weapon, even though he knows they don’t have anything in the Bunker capable of taking Lucifer out. Nothing that would even slow him down, if Dean’s being honest.
But he can’t abandon Cas.
Lucifer gives him a pitying look.
“He can’t hear you, Dean,” Lucifer tells him softly. Lucifer steps closer and Dean bristles, but holds his ground. If Lucifer wanted him dead, he’d be dead already.
Lucifer studies him for a moment, and Dean aches because the stare is at once just like and nothing like Cas at all. It feels more invasive, feels wrong, because even though the face is the same the emotion behind it is a world apart,
“Little Castiel isn’t listening,” Lucifer says. “He’s curled up deep inside this vessel, waiting for me to burn him out of existence. He’s not listening and he’s not fighting.”
“Bullshit,” Dean hisses, glaring at the Devil wearing his friend’s body for all he’s worth. He tries again. “Cas, come on man, we’ve taken bigger fish-”
“It’s not that he knows he can’t win,” Lucifer says. “Though he can’t. He doesn’t want to.”
Dean feels his blood run cold. He remembers, as if through a fog, a small motel room and a quiet ‘I’m afraid I might kill myself’.
“You’re lying,” he says, but his voice is small and weak. Lucifer gives him another pitying smile.
“You know I’m not. He’s given me free rein to do whatever I like with his body, as long as I don’t harm a hair on either your or your brother’s heads.” Lucifer shrugs. “Not a bad trade. For me, at least.”
“He wouldn’t,” Dean says. He doesn’t believe himself, not with proof that yes, Cas would standing right in front of him.
“He did,” Lucifer says. He tilts his head thoughtfully, and the movement is so painfully reminiscent of Cas that Dean’s heart clenches. “And honestly… I’m surprised you don’t understand why.”
“Why he said yes?” Dean asks. He has an inkling it might have something to do with the Darkness, with Cas trying for a Mothra vs. Godzilla type showdown because the Winchesters don’t have the firepower or the know-how to do it.
Stupid, stupid son-of-a-bitch.
“Why he isn’t fighting,” Lucifer says. “Why he won’t fight. Why he’s buried himself so deep in the subconscious that he can’t hear or see anything.” Lucifer frowns thoughtfully. “Even Nick fought, and he was a broken, broken man when I found him and whispered into his ear.”
Lucifer looks at Dean then, almost impressed, and Dean feels sick to his stomach.
“You managed to break an angel, Dean Winchester. Without even trying, you’ve managed to make life as my vessel an attractive option, because at least he feels useful now.” Lucifer smiles, sick, sadistic, and Dean thinks he’s going to throw up.
“You’re lying,” he says again, because he couldn’t, this is Lucifer twisting things and Dean knows Cas must be in there, screaming for Dean to hear him and not lose faith-
“I don’t lie,” Lucifer says. “Deep down, Castiel knows he deserves this. He thinks that being burned out of existence is a just punishment for his crimes because he knows that he can never atone for them as long as he lives, even if he lives forever.”
Dean’s voice is caught in his throat. There’s too much truth here, the things Lucifer is saying too reminiscent of things Cas himself has said.
“Abandoned by his family of choice, hunted by his family of blood, trying to do what’s right over and over again only to fall into the same traps over and over again… he tries so hard, doesn’t he? Little Cassie,” Lucifer says. “He chooses you first, over and over and over again, through torture and civil war, and to you… he doesn’t even rate.”
Dean feels the denial heavy on his tongue, weighing it down, but he can’t speak. His chest feels like lead.
“He’s so in love with you, and to you, he’s a hammer. A tool, one that gets thrown away when it’s no longer useful.”
Dean’s senses go blank. He hears a roaring in his ears, his eyes lose focus, and all that plays in his head is that latest revelation.
‘He’s so in love with you.’
“You’re lying,” he whispers. Cas couldn’t-
Please no. Not like this.
“Cas-” Dean croaks, but Lucifer interrupts him with a sad shake of his head and a tutting noise.
“You can’t try to talk him out of this, Dean. He knows his worth to you, and it isn’t much. Isn’t anything, really.”
Dean wants to argue. He wants to scream that it’s not true, that Cas means as much to him as Sammy, as the Impala, but his traitorous mind keeps pulling up memory after memory of times he didn’t choose Cas, even when he should have.
“So now, if you’ll excuse me…”
Lucifer turns. Dean’s heart goes into overdrive, because he can’t let Lucifer leave, not wearing that body, not until he’s gotten through to Cas somehow.
“Cas!” he shouts, and Lucifer turns back.
His expression is impassive for a moment, considering. Then his expression melts. Lucifer is suddenly sad and tired and old, so weary and broken-down, and Dean realizes with a chill that it’s not Lucifer standing there in that moment.
“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas says. Dean tries to speak but he can’t, because he realizes with a sickening jolt that the expression Cas is wearing isn’t unfamiliar.
Dean’s seen it before, he just never noticed. He’s seen it a lot and never said anything.
Imagine Dean, Sam, and Cas cheering you up after your grandfather passed away.
You had hardly left your room for the past two weeks. Ever since your grandfather died, you hadn’t seen the point in being around people. You refused to go on hunts with the boys because going without pops just didn’t seem right. When they would come knocking on your door, you would feign sleep or turn up the music you were listening to. You tuned out the world around you. It was the only way you knew how to cope.
You laid in bed listening to your music when there came a knock on your door. “Y/N?” Sam asked timidly. Your response was to turn up your music to drown him out. Next thing you knew, someone was pounding on your door.
“What the hell?” You mumbled to yourself before saying, “Go away Sam!”
“Y/N, it’s time for you to join us back in the real world. No more skulking around on your own. We can help you!” Dean said from the other side of the door. Great, you thought. Now they were ganging up on you.
You furrowed your brow as you tossed the book you were reading across the room. You swung your legs over the side of your bed and swiftly crossed the room, furious. You flung open the door. You were prepared to yell at Dean and give him a piece of your mind, but the sight you were greeted with shocked the words from your mouth.
Your eyes moved slowly from Sam to Dean then finally to Cas whom you hadn’t realized was even at the bunker today. Cas was dressed like Dean. He had on one of his plaid shirts and his brown leather jacket. His face was set in a permanent pout as he flipped through a copy of busty Asian ladies.
Dean had on a wig with long brown hair and was wearing one of Sam’s jackets. It looked to be at least two sizes too big. He towered over both Sam and Cas. He had Sam’s laptop open in one hand with a doofus look on his face like he was concentrating.
Finally your eyes fell on Sam who was on his knees looking up at you, so as to appear smaller than the other two. He had on Cas’ trench coat and a short haired wig. He was holding Cas’ angel blade and looked like he was very confused.
“Hey sweetheart,” Cas said trying to imitate Dean’s deep rumbling voice.
“Y/N,” Sam attempted Cas’ gravelly voice with a nod at you.
You suppressed a giggle, but Dean sent you into a fit of laughter.
“Y/N, I realize you want your space,” Dean said in a soft Sam like voice. “You need to let us help you. We care about you, especially Dean even though he has a hard time with words sometimes,” he said as he motioned toward Cas who scoffed at “Sam” Dean’s explanation.
For the first time since your grandfather passed away, you had a smile that stretched from ear to ear. You threw your head back in a genuine laugh, something you hadn’t done in weeks. You threw your arms around all three men, pulling them in close to you.
“Thanks, guys,” you said with a chuckle, a tiny confused tear slipping from your eye. You were mixed with happiness and sadness all at once. You hadn’t let anyone try to help you, and you hadn’t realized how isolated you had allowed yourself to become.
“Did it work?” Cas asked, breaking character.
Dean let out a soft chuckle, “I think it worked Cas.” Dean pulled away and grabbed your face in both of his large calloused hands, gazing into your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at him with the wig on as your eyes darted up to it.
He noticed you gawking at it and pulled it off with a laugh. “Welcome back, princess,” he said as he kissed you tenderly. “We’ve missed that beautiful laugh.”
You knew getting back out on hunts would be a challenge without pops, but with Dean by your side, you knew you could heal. Add Sam and Cas and you realized how lucky you were.
You looked at Sam and Cas and kissed each of them on the cheek. Sam pulled you into a hug in return, and Cas just blushed.
Dean grabbed your hand and hesitantly pulled you from the door way. “We’ve got more where this came from,” he said gesturing at the three of them as he pulled you down the hall.
You padded after him barefoot with a smile. It would take time, but these guys were determined to help you heal, and you are finally in a place to let them help.
@weird-lazy-girl I hope this story helps with your road to healing. I really enjoyed this request. Personal
Concepts are always easiest to write form, especially when the writer can connect to the subject matter. Thank you!
Dean didn’t necessarily know what he was doing to his girlfriend; he thought they were as happy as ever, but as time passed, he noticed that she seemed… different.
After he came back from the life with Lisa and Ben, his lover had seemed to distance herself from him. The little things that she did had suddenly disappeared from his life as though it didn’t exist. The way she laughed at him when he sang off-key in the car, the small smirks and looks she sent him when Sam tripped or fell, and the way she would run her fingers through his hair when they watched old movies together all vanished.
Summary: You lose control of your power, and Bucky shows up at your door in the middle of the night.
Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Dean x Reader
Warnings: Angst, the tiniest amount of fluff
Word Count: 877 (Oh, this is super short)
Striding into the gym, the tears pooling in your eyes threatening to spill and obscure your vision, your ragged breath coming out in short harsh pants causing you to clench your fists at your sides. You were desperately ignoring the little voice in your head screaming at you, berating you, hurling profanities, begging you to go back to Bucky and throw yourself at his mercy.
Holding on by a thread, you search frantically for Wanda or Vision. Finding no one to distract you from the horror happening inside your head you finally let out a sob. Crumpling into a heap on the gym floor, you cry out your pain. The anguish of the last few years pour out of you as you curl yourself into the fetal position, ignoring the shattering of glass when the usual iron clad control you have on your powers slips. The walls begin to vibrate, chunks of floor hovering in the air as you begin to wail. Rising to your knees you stretch your arms to either side of you and push. The walls implode outward, bits of debris whipping past your face as you destroy everything around you; gym mats disintegrate, mirrors shatter, equipment bends and groans as it’s morphed into twisted hunks of metal.
Slowly you come back to yourself, the crushing emotion you felt moments ago lifting with the destruction you caused. You drop your hands to your sides, panting heavily as you regain control of yourself. Squeezing your eyes shut you let yourself sag, giving yourself a moment before you raise your arms once again, taking a deep breath before you pull, quirking your fingers toward yourself. Time reverses like a video tape being rewound. You permit yourself to smile as the usual euphoria fills your soul, soothing the wounds on your scarred heart.
Opening your eyes, you scrutinize your handy work. Not a thing out of place. The gym was pristine. Sitting back on your haunches you wipe your eyes, suck in a breath and stand, smoothing the creases from your clothes. You stride out of the gym, head held high, ignoring the twinge in your heart as Bucky’s face swims in your mind once more.
You groan as you turn toward the clock on your nightstand. It blinks accusingly, informing you that it was, in fact, 2 am, and whoever was at your door needed a serious talking to, or beating, whichever came first. Tiredly throwing back the covers of your bed, you stand unsteadily, lugging yourself to the door and opening it as quietly as you could only to come face to face with Bucky.
His eyes were red rimmed, tear streaks down his face. His usual immaculately kept hair in complete disarray.
Your heart flutters painfully, fingers itching to smooth the tresses from his face. “Bucky?” you ask worriedly. When he merely grunts in response panic grips your heart as you yank him into your bedroom. You usher him gently to the bed as he stares vacantly at you. You hesitated briefly before you drape yourself over him, crooning softly as you run your fingers through his hair, uttering words of reassurance.
His body relaxes slowly beneath you, his breathing evening out. He wraps his arms around you and buries his head in your hair as he begins to cry, his body shaking violently.
You know better than to ask, it wouldn’t make sense anyway judging from the garbled words leaving his mouth.
He rolls you onto your side, arms tightening. “Don’t leave,” he says between sobs. “Please, please don’t leave!” he cries and in that moment you know, you know how badly you had hurt him, how deeply you had scarred him if his current state was anything to go by.
You had shattered what little security he felt he had. Swallowing down the revulsion at yourself, you whisper softly, placing a kiss to the top of his head, “I’m right here, B. I’m not leaving.” You tip his chin upward, forcing him to look at you.
His eyes seem bluer, hope shining fiercely in them. “Promise me,” he whispers, his grip tightening on your hips, he draws you closer to his chest, whispering “Promise me,” over and over in a sick mantra that gives you goosebumps.
You swallow thickly before nodding. “I promise,” you finally reply, and he sags with relief or exhaustion you don’t know, but he goes quiet.
Plastering himself against you, legs entwining with yours, the heat radiating off him brings a sense of calm and security. His strong arms and steadily beating heart lulling you into a false sense of home you could only wish were real.
You can’t find the will to keep distancing yourself from him, to keep hurting him, so you cave, relaxing into his embrace as he sighs happily drifting off into sleep. “Oh, Bucky,” you whisper. “What have I done to you?” You smooth the crease of his brow with your fingertips, placing a loving kiss on the skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say sadly, dropping your hand to his arm, running it up the cool metal, coming to a stop just before the scarring. You sigh, closing your eyes and letting sleep overtake you, not daring to wonder what morning will bring.
Words: 4682 Cas x Reader Warnings: graphic imagery, grief, some language Requested by anonymous A/N: Please don’t hate me… *sets tissue box out* I’m just going to leave this here for no particular reason whatsoever…
You sighed to yourself as you awoke gently, taking in a deep breath and smiling as you felt his arms around you and the warmth of his skin against yours.
You stirred a little, turning over so you could blink blearily at him. Cas had his arms draped around you and your legs were tangled together just like the sheets. You smiled and he mirrored it, his eyes and face lighting up as he looked at you.