Instill Inside Me—Fear
Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Language, bit o’ blood and gore, mentions of self harm, abuse. Demon Dean is a huge dick at this time.
Description: Dean breaks out of his restraints and torments you while Sam is away on a hunt. The two of you play a haunting game of hide and seek. Will he find you?
Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy.
Instills Inside Me-Hurt
Instills Inside Me- Lonliness
Instills Inside Me-Comfort
You had seen him, Dean, tied to a chair in the safe room below the bunker. You never dared going down there alone. Chalking it up to you being afraid to see what the older Winchester had become of himself.
You’d been studying in the commons area, with your several stacks of books surrounded you like a makeshift fort. Writing endlessly in the journals, making notes on the latest hunt you and Sam were working on.
There had been a den of vampires sighted in a nearby town couple miles outside Pasadena, California. Sam was on it with Castiel while you, sat here in the safety of the bunker, sending them research and conducting your own about a certain ball of demon joy a floor beneath you. Sam wanted as much information as possible on how to save Dean from the demon flowing through his veins. Yet, you didn’t know how much or if there was any.
There wasn’t.
The only thing about how to get Dean un-demoned was to pump him full of sanctified blood and hope for the best. You had written countless notes on the matter and were so in sync with your research that you were startled when you had seen that it was almost 10PM.
You yawned and stretched, pushing your books aside. You heaved a sigh-pushing in your chair as you headed for the kitchen to make you a cup of tea to help you sleep. You barely made it to the kitchen when the lights cut out. Everything then was enveloped in an antagonizing red glow.
Then the alarm began to blare throughout the bunker. It lasted a few seconds before that too was shut off by a loud crash, and your breath hitched. Either someone stupid was breaking in.
Or he had broken out.
You swallowed spit and forced yourself to move against the wall in an attempt to sneak off somewhere and hide. You wouldn’t be caught out in the open, surely not by Dean.
Especially not Dean, you corrected yourself. You managed to slip up the steps into the upstairs hallway when you heard Dean most likely kick through one of the downstairs doors.
You stifled a scream, pressing your back against the wall again keeping quiet while you found yourself slipping into a vacant room and under the bed.
“I know you’re here you little bitch, could practically hear your boots fucking shaking above me. Come out now and I promise I'll be gentle with you. Make it quick, y'know." He hollered.
You did not make a peep while you huddled beneath the bed of the many rooms on the second floor. The way you quickly learned how to limit your breathing made it easier for you to hide. Sam had even taught you in his free time how to sneak around without making a sound.
Of course, you knew that if Dean did find you--it would be much worse than what any monster you have hunted in the past. This was not the older Winchester you worked with just a couple months ago. Whatever was inhabiting his body now, the demon inside him, made his aggressive, made him lash out against the people who love him, and made him have this terrifyingly strong urge to kill anything and everything in his path.
Covering your mouth with your hands your eyes widened when his shadow went past the door.
"I'm not playing this game with you Y/N. When I find you and oh boy, I will. I'll carve out your fucking innards and hang your skull on my mantle." He growls, kicking through what sounded like Sam's bedroom a few doors down. You heard him grunt when he didn't find anything. His footsteps retreated to the room across from Sam's.
SLAM. SLAM.SLAM.
He was in. Another grunt and groan, he was off to the room next to the one you were in. You had to act fast as he broke his way through the door. You slipped out from your hiding spot as he was having trouble with the door in front of the one you were in.
This was not where you wanted to be. You could hear him cursing as you open the door ajar, wide enough to wear you could slip through. He slammed through the door and went inside as you took off down the hall.
"Where the fuck are you?" He screamed, throwing over the bed.
---A Few Hours Later---
You were inside a closet, tucked away where you knew he wouldn't find you. Or so you hoped. Hidden behind the water heater, you pulled out your phone, beginning to tap away at the screen to Sam.
S.O.S Dean's got out and he's looking for me.
You hit send and tucked the phone back into your back pocket. You leaned your head back against the wall and prayed. Oh, how you prayed that Sam would get home soon. You prayed to Castiel to hear you and appear out of thin air to save you. Dean, as much as you could hear from where you were had been pacing, throwing objects around and yelling.
"You think you're so fucking smart huh? You little bitch. Do you think that I wanna kill you? I've seen the shit that goes on in my head. I can watch and witness all those fucking memories of finding you a bloody heap on the floor. I have. I've seen them all. All the times I would stumble in a catch you slitting your fucking wrists like the weak little girl you are. I would have to clean you, set you straight, make sure you're all fixed up. What about me? When have you ever done that for me? You selfish little whore." Your hands covered your mouth as you stuffed down the urge to cry. You knew he didn't mean it. It was the demon that he was brought back as.
"My head isn't the only I've been through. You think anyone around you loves you? Sam...Castiel...me? Bobby could give a less of a shit about you. Hell, they all wanted you gone after Charlie died. Yeah they blamed you. It should have been you. " You hitched a breath, holding yourself. Which was a stupid move as he probably knew where you were.
The wall you were leaning against successfully had aa hole punched through as you raced to get up and out the door, you tried to run but you tripped over a stack of books that was strewn across the floor.
Dean stomped towards you, grabbing your foot to slam you into the ground. You writhed around in his hold, managing to kick him the jaw. You got back up onto your feet, only for him to lunge at you.
Overturning the nearby table, you shoved it in his direction. The tears would not stop as you tried reasoning with the man in front of you.
"You don't meant that Dean. Look we can figure out some way to save you. Please don't hurt me." You plead, hands raised as he draws closer to you.
Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, when he comes closer and closer and closer to you. With your hands still raised, the sensation of his rough, gnarled, and calloused hands grasping onto yours, pulling you to him.
The fear you felt as your could not hear his own heart beating, you were face first in his chest, his mouth to your ear, as he whispered something so low, you could barely make it out.
"I'm sorry."
I'm just -
nothing would’ve been better than an episode where dean is being all sweet on cas and there’s a voice over of dean saying things like “cas is just this cute dorky lil guy” and it cuts to cas with angel powers flaring as he takes out 5 demons at once. “he’s so angelic in all the conventional and unconventional ways,” while cas is beating a werewolf bloody. “he always makes me laugh” and it cuts to cas as he’s glaring down a vampire. “he watches movies with me and wears a cowboy hat for me” flashes to cas as he’s tearing heaven apart. “he’s my best friend, and I think I love him… yeah, I love him,” and cas is casually throwing angel blades at monsters. and the end of the episode is dean and cas being domestic and dean’s like “I didn’t see you today, what were you up to?” and cas is like “nothing at all” even though he was out chasing monsters, but then he leans down and kisses dean and it’s soft and tender and gentle and dean smiles and is like “movie date night, sunshine?” and cas smiles so brightly it rivals the sun as he says, “anything for you, dean.”
(never forgotten)
Destiel dynamics in four pics
there should've been a scene where dean teaches cas how to shoot a gun with his body pressed into cas' back all ghost pottery scene style
there’s honestly so much underrated comedic value in that thiam elevator scene like they’re staring into each other’s eyes from roughly 4 inches apart going…
“I’m not dying for you”
“Well I’m not dying for you either!”
*record scratch, freeze frame*
Narrator voiceover: “They were, in fact, completely willing to die for each other.”
when destiel goes canon this thursday then you’ll all see
Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you
Request: "Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: none, just fluff
Note: hooooly shit guys, i've been gone for way too long. hope you enjoy <3
_____
The jingle of keys in the doorknob had you lifting your eyes from your book, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing softly. The quiet whispers of a jacket being taken off, laces being untied, keys being set on the small table beside the door travelled through the apartment, meeting your ears and bringing a smile to your face.
Soft footsteps padded against the hardwood floor, careful to avoid any creaky spots.
"I'm awake, Buck," you called out softly from the comfort of your bed, and you heard him pause his movements. And then continue, a bit quicker than before.
Brown hair and blue eyes popped around the the edge of the door frame, brows furrowed. "It's midnight. Why are you still awake?"
You shrugged, sitting up in bed and setting your book aside. "Dunno, really. Got caught up reading."
Bucky frowned, and stepped into the room, walking over to the bed. "You can't sleep?"
It was a casual question, but you sensed the undertone of worry laced through it, and smiled to yourself.
"Actually, I spent most of the evening redecorating, so I'll probably start snoring as soon as the lights are off."
Bucky's hands reached for yours, grabbing them and bringing them up to his lips as he stood in front of you. One, two, three kisses along your knuckles. One hand, then the other.
"Redecorating?" he murmured against your skin, and you nodded slyly. His eyes narrowed, partially in amusement, partially in curiosity.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hands back, settling yourself back into the fluffy down of your pillows and blankets. "How was work today?"
At your question, Bucky's jaw ticked.
"It was fine."
You studied him for a few seconds, and cocked your head. "Just fine?"
He let out a heavy sigh, then collapsed atop the comforter at the foot of the bed. On nights like this, when he came home later than usual, the tension in his shoulders a bit more prominent than usual, the bags under his eyes a bit heavier, he found it hard to form sentences adequate enough to explain how he felt or what he needed.
Ever since the government cleared him of all charges and his mandated therapy ended, Bucky had taken up a job at the DCSA.
Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.
On paper, James Buchanan Barnes was an ordinary, ex-military security guard working for the Department of Defense and the United States.
In reality, the executive branch of the federal government reached out to him themselves and offered him a job doing what they claimed he did best: making people disappear, and making it seem like an accident. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to be the very thing he tried so hard to run away from being, but soon enough, they had made it very clear he had limited options: accept the position, or get thrown in prison for all the charges they claimed to have dropped.
So, for all his hesitating and hatred, Bucky Barnes was the United States government's own personal hitman, killing anybody who posed a threat to the life of the president, his family, or anybody in the Senate.
At least they paid better than HYDRA, Bucky had once joked. You could see, in his eyes, how much it pained him to revert back to his old ways, once again not having a choice.
Bucky cleared his throat, and glanced at you, blinking away the shadows behind his eyes.
"It's fine, sweetheart. I promise. It could have been worse."
Your heart cracked in your chest and you frowned, burying your cheek even deeper into your pillow as you looked at him. "If you say so."
Bucky pursed his lips to the side, then looked toward the door connecting your bedroom to the bathroom. Without a word, he got up, walking towards the bathroom and simultaneously pulling his shirt over his head. You smiled to yourself as you watched him disappear behind the door, flicking the lights on and letting the soft, yellow glow flood the floor of your room. You listened to him shuffle about, letting out a soft sigh as he unbuckled his belt.
His movements paused.
Your smile grew.
"Y/N?" he called out.
"Yes, babe?"
The door creaked open all the way, and behind it stood Bucky, holding his toothbrush in one hand, with a confused look on his face.
"Why is there a pink bow on my toothbrush?"
It took all your strength not to burst into a fit of giggles immediately as you schooled your face into one of nonchalance, and said, "I told you. I redecorated."
Bucky's bewildered eyes flickered from you, to the toothbrush, then back to you. Then he turned to look at the bathroom. And you saw the exact moment in which he realized there were pink bows everywhere. Big, small, light pink, dark pink, neon pink, cotton, silk, linen. A variety of ribbons tied in bows around everything you could think of: toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo bottles, the soap dispenser, the toilet brush, the towel rack, your skincare bottles, his deodorant and cologne.
"Y/N," Bucky said calmly.
"Yes?" you replied, batting your eyelashes innocently.
"Can you please tell me, why, exactly, you decided on redecorating with pink bows everywhere?"
You hummed, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I just think they make pretty things look so much prettier. I may have gone a bit overboard, though."
"You think?"
You bit back a grin as you watched him shake his head, as if to snap him from his stupor of amusement, and bend over the sink to brush his teeth. You watched him brush his teeth, wash his face, change out of his jeans and into pajama pants. You tracked him as he turned the lights off and sighed, trudging over to the bed, exhaustion creeping into every one of his movements and pulling at him like gravity. You opened your arms wide, lifting the covers as you did so, and Bucky gladly crawled into them, nuzzling his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist and back.
You placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and let your arms come loosely around his neck. Bucky said nothing, content to lay in silence and listen to the beat of your heart as it lulled him to sleep.
After a few minutes of you silently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered his name. "Bucky?"
He hummed in answer against your chest.
"You know how I said pink bows make pretty things even prettier?"
You felt, rather than saw, his body pause at the question, and then his head was up and his blue eyes were staring into yours with a puzzled expression. "Yes... why? What's that have to do with anything?"
"Well..."
You paused. All of a sudden, you felt stupid. Bucky's furrowed brows and sleepy eyes urged you to continue.
"I have a pink ribbon under the pillow, actually, and I was... I wanted to..."
"What, honey?"
"Well, I was wondering if I could tie it around your arm."
Bucky paused, blinking up at you slowly, as if he hadn't heard you.
"My arm?"
You nodded.
"Why?"
You shrugged. "Because it's already beautiful, and I want to make it even more so."
He laid there quiet for a moment, and you were about to tell him to forget about it, but then he unwrapped his arms from around you, letting you drop flat onto your back, and shoved a hand beneath your head. Beneath your pillow.
He emerged with a baby pink ribbon in his fingers, the material pliable and soft in his grip, as he handed it to you.
"Go ahead," he said simply.
You gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"
He shrugged with one shoulder. "Why not? Did you think I'd say no?"
You fell quiet, then let out a sigh through your nose, turning over slightly to better reach his arm. His left arm.
You wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the vibranium cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm pink silk in your fingers. You looped it through, pulling it taut, then let go. You stared at it for a second, then glanced up at Bucky. Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to the exposed metal right above the bow.
Bucky let out a shuddering breath, then laid down again, this time face to face with you. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns against the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you closed your eyes against the feeling.
"I love you so much," he muttered quietly. "You know that, right?"
You nodded, eyes closed and a smile playing at your lips. "I know. I love you, too. Every part of you."
Bucky loosed a breath that sounded somewhat like a disbelieving breath, and you felt him lean in and press a kiss to your temple.
You fell asleep without even realizing, lulled into dreams by the steady thrum of his heartbeat and his hand stroking your hair.