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madhare0512 · 1 year

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A Comprehensive List of SpideyFist Interactions (pt.4)

hello and welcome back to: reasons Spideyfist is canon. a series where i take you through each episode of The Ultimate Spiderman and show you why i believe that Peter Parker and Danny Rand are dating in canon, or at least that they are each other’s favorites. and also give you commentary on the show itself as i do

warnings for: episode spoilers, season spoilers, action/injury description, unsolicited commentary, probable cussing, violence, caps lock, bullying, mentions of pedophilia

this part features episodes 21 through 26 of season one

~~~

S1E21 I am Spider-Man:

- before i even opened this episode to watch, my brain assaulted me with the plot and i can tell you right now that it was fucked up in more ways than one. Danny’s not really in this episode, so this is probably gonna be headcanon and commentary only and i’m sorry for the commentary you’re about to receive.

- MJ calling creepy guys out on their bs like the queen she is

- also, the fucking Trapster is boarderline pedo

- okay, we all know how Peter feels about his secret identitiy. that’s always been clear through every iteration of Spiderman, Peter Park does NOT want people knowing he is Spiderman. so, what this is to say: when Peter removes his mask on stage and the camera pans to the reaction, there’s shock on MJ, Luke, Ava, and Sam’s faces. but Danny’s not shocked. Danny looks scared. this is gonna be apparent in later parts, but Danny knows how much Peter’s identity means to him, the entire team is fully aware. Danny’s scared for Peter, not shocked it’s him under the mask

- MJ wanting to change the public opinion is so valid

- Coulson is so self-centered in this episode it scares me

- how in the fuck is Spiderman wrong for the part of SPIDERMAN

- Peter’s bully being chosen to play him is ironic

- Sam’s blatant dismissal of Peter’s bullying, also the costume switch, is another reason i ship what i ship. Sam had no right to take Peter’s costume, that he put time and effort into making, and honestly, i don’t blame Peter for being angry about this

- JJJ really just has a grudge a Peter at this point

- the understudy list is so fucking wrong. also, it shows how much Coulson DOESN’T know Spiderman. Sam is on the list after Flash, Ava after him, Miles Morales next, then Peter. you wanna know who’s NOT on that list? either of the other two people specifically mentioned ealier in the season to be quite similar to Spiderman by Taskmaster. bull-fucking-SHIT

- honorable mentions of poly!team: Danny, Luke, Sam, and Ava show up to support Peter (or laugh at him, but they could’ve just watch a video for that)

- Peter does his job to the best of his ability, even against Flash

- Peter’s the fucking best at speeches

- Peter’s gonna look less like the real thing, which is something else that goes towards his secret identity

- in the team line up, Peter says Danny’s name first

- Danny’s the first one with an inkling that this fight may actually be real, doesn’t count towards SpideyFist, but it does show how observant and smart he is

- “is there some chance that’s the real Spiderman?” Danny knows exactly what Peter looks like when he fights and exactly how he acts as Spiderman, which counts because you have to be paying attention a LOT for that kind of memorization, he dismisses it, probably because of May distracting him, but it’ll bug him until he’s proven right

- headcanon: Danny always knows when Peter’s in a fight from here on out. he’s constantly got a line of his attention focussed on Peter in some way

- Coulson just pisses me off this episode

- the second-hand embarrassment was so real this episode, i had so much of it. i nearly turned the episode off like six times, kid you not

- of course Ava’s worried about sitting out an actual fight

- Flash being a good guy for all of five seconds

~~~

S1E22 The Iron Octopus:

- Danny’s also not in this episode, so it’s headcanon and commentary

- ah, second Deadpool mention

- happens all the fucking time, apparently, Peter

- huh, i don’t remember this episode well

- nope, nevermind, yes i do

- Peter doesn’t like guns, which likely comes from trauma relating to Ben

- Iron Man no longer has a head

- Tony destroys his own tech regularly, which is kinda funny when you look at it through the “he gets mad when his armor is broke” lense

- two rich guys, one his best friend’s father and the other his mentor. looks at my SpideyFist lists ...man, Peter just attracts rich guys, huh?

- among the things i don’t blame Doc Ock for are being so utterly pissed off at Norman.

- “might want to sit this one out, doc” Peter being so protective of Dr. Connors is adorable on all levels

- knowing what i know now about the team and how the SHIELD thing works for them specifically, i think it’s fucking weird how little Fury calls on them. they’re supposed to be training to be heroes, correct? how are they supposed to learn if they don’t get real-word experience. is it that they aren’t ready? but Peter is? idk maybe i read too much into this. also, what’s the team doing right now that they can’t go and help in this situation with Doc Ock is attacking the hellicarrier?

- WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL THEM ALREADY YOU FUCKING DUMBASS

- Peter’s done things to villains that would apparently see him strung up

- Osborn’s manipulation thing is disgusting

~~~

S1E23 Not a Toy:

- “i need back up! front up? side up?” Iron Fist appears out of the fog and yes this freaking counts

- “tell me you’re not freaking out and maybe i’ll calm down!” translation: Danny is the most zen and chill guy Peter knows, if he’s freaking out, then Peter knows this is something worth freaking out over

- the second Peter lands, he’s trying to find Danny

- Coulson, i’m pretty sure there are stronger people than Cap around

- Danny and Peter are standing next to each other after a battle again!

- Peter fighting until his last breath to get Cap for one more round just because he and the team are excited about it

- the absolute SHOCK on their faces when Steve puts his shield on the line to keep

- listne, Peter just wants JJJ to stop being so cruel to him and that’s a very valid goal

- Danny lasting more than two seconds in a fight against Captain America when he’s still a trainee and having not trained as long as Cap has. AND landing a solid hit on him

- something i think shows since the beginning is that Danny is always well prepared when fighting against Peter or his fighting style. we know from later episodes that they have a weekly sparing session, but we don’t know how far back it goes. given that it’s pretty far into season 1, i think it goes back far enough, like definiately mid-season 1 at least

- Danny, who’s been trained in a multitude of weapons, knowing EXACTLY how dangerous that shield can be

- i’m not saying Sam ratted Peter out, but i am saying he’s the one quickest to blame Peter for things.

- headcanon: this version of Captain America can look at someone and know exactly what they’re capable of and the potential they have

- “know the fight” is a piece of advice i try to live by these days

~~~

S1E24 Attack of the Beetle:

- Danny’s not in this episode, no notable interactions. and unfortunately, at this time, i don’t have the energy to provide more commentary, so headcanons you’ll get.

- headcanon: Peter doesn’t believe he’s going to get good things (until, you know, the team and Danny), but he does believe he deserves them

- Peter things his aunt and Coulson shouldn’t go out because Coulson isn’t COOL oh my god

~~~

S1E25 Revealed:

- guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, i have a small confession. i’ve been waiting for this episode since i started this plot. this one and a few others are pretty big for Spideyfist. one of those episodes is Strange Days, this is the next one on the list. i apologize for nothing about what i’m about to do

- celebrating the small things

- Danny doesn’t pull Peter away from things. to my knowledge and so far to where i’m at in USM, Danny’s never called Peter in. Ava has, Sam has, and now Luke, but Danny hasn’t. which i’m counting because it means Danny doesn’t want to pull Peter away from his “me time” or his friends

- i feel awful for Harry in this moment. his best friend and his father have both abandoned him

- when Klaw is about to attack Peter while his back is turned, Danny comes barrelling in immediately to make sure Peter stays safe. and the thumbs up they give each other is adorable

- Peter and Danny are standing next to each other during a battle again. i should binge USM and take a shot of chocolate milk whenever this happens, just to see how long it takes me to get a sugar high

- “let’s take ‘em out!” aaaaaaaand Danny’s the first one to follow the order

- “try to maintain calm, friend.” right after you just went and punched the robot so hard it fucking exploded?

- gee, i fucking wonder where Spiderman is. y’all didn’t watch him, so the bad guy snatched him

- also, Sam and Luke look in one direction confused, but Danny looks AROUND in a panic

- headcanon: Danny may not be the first one out the door, but he’s right on Ava’s heels

- ah yes, the Goblin serum

- headcanon: Peter has lightning scars

- Danny is right there at the front, closest to the way this little bot is going. he talks about having patience like he needs to remind himself that he need to be patient, which counts as being very worried about Peter

- “eventually it’ll lead us to Spiderman.” not “to the person who has Spiderman”, not “to where we need to go” both of which would’ve been more in character with Danny not even two episodes ago. “it’ll lead us to Spiderman”

- Danny moves first to go after the robot. almost desperate, like he NEEDS to get to Peter

- you know, for all Doc Ock rants about being a great scientist, he sure doesn’t do well at the whole “creation i can control” thing

- who’s the first one to jump down into the fight to help Peter? Danny’s the first one to jump down into the fight to help Peter

- and Peter’s talking directly to Danny instead of the rest of the team again

- oh, look at that, Danny walks up to get a closer look at the new creature formed and who does he stand behind (protecting his back while also knowing he’s going to be protected)? Peter, it’s Peter. of COURSE it’s Peter

- hey remember when i said back in like part 2 that Danny only talks himself up twice? i was mistaken, it’s just the once. Danny’s saying they should’ve stayed and finished the fight. but why would he do that, this is a new creature, they don’t know it’s power set. well maybe it’s because Doc Ock stole his boyfriend and he’s a little touchy about that.

- also, Peter says “we’re drawing it out” and lemme just flashback to Damage Control when Luke and Danny’s plan was to draw the assailant out

- in the fucking fight. in the fucking Green Goblin fight, who gets hurt first? Luke. Luke, who’s been electricuted and is not getting up, who Danny and Ava where both worried about depsite having trained with and understanding his powerset. and who does Peter go to when injured? NOT LUKE. NOPE! no, no, no, Danny gets smacked into a wall and Peter goes to Danny instead

- “Iron Fist! Stay with me buddy!” other teammates getting hurt and knocked out around him

- AND PETER STAYS THERE WITH DANNY UNTIL GOBLIN TAKES A STEP TOWARDS HIS DIRECTION! TOWARDS PETER WHO’S RIGHT NEXT TO DANNY

- you wanna know something else? Peter’s all quips and wit until someone fucks with the team. like this is the first serious battle where we see the team get hurt to the point that they aren’t getting back up. Peter isn’t saying any quips, he’s not using those one-liners he’s so famous for. what does he say to Goblin when Goblin makes towards his fallen teammates? he says, “you sick freak.” this isn’t a game to him, and that’s not his best friend’s dad anymore, that’s the person who hurt his team. that’s not Norman Osborn, that’s the Green Goblin.

- he’s also not holding back. you see him giving EVERYTHING he can. “i should beat you into a paste!” like it’s something Peter can DO without trying. Peter’s fucking terrifying under the quips and the sarcasm and rookie-ness

- and STILL he extends help to Goblin. even after he beat Peter’s team up, even after causing pain and injury to the people Peter considers family, he still says, “let me help you”

- “sorry, Mr. Osborn, but my team? they’re like my family. and if i have to take you out to save them, then that’s what i’m gonna do” FUCK

- the fact that the team is literally carrying each other out is something awful and terrifing. i didn’t watch this episode when it first came out, and watching it now as an adult just sinks it in that we’re meant to view Goblin as an Ultimate Adversary

- Peter blames himself because of course he does

- Danny’s the only one facing away from Peter when the camera pans to the team when Peter says “everyone i care about”, i know i talked about how Danny doesn’t like letting people see him vulnerable or weak. he’s supposed to be a king, a leader, of course he doesn’t want someone to see him injured. this goes DOUBLE for Peter, Danny’s leader.

- Peter cuts the team coughcoughDannycoughcough out of his life to keep them safe but of course we know that won’t work. their leader sets an awful example

~~~

S1E26 The Rise of Goblin:

- Peter, babe, that’s not healthy, you gotta sleep

- Peter is shocked to see his team, despite knowing that his team would literally follow him to the end

- “what are you guys doing?” following their leader, dumbass

- do i think Spideyfist broke up this arc? no. but i do think their relationship was a little strained. they had to work it out.

- and despite not wanting his team in the middle of this, he lets them hold Goblin off while he gets Harry out of danger

- “it’s that serious?” no, Harry, it’s all a practical joke being played on you by Spiderman and his team to fuck with you

- Danny is the first one to try and convince Peter that he needs the team and Peter gives Danny his full attention

- Peter gets after Ava, Sam, and Luke for being at the fight, but not Danny who was also there. Peter literally doesn’t even LOOK at him during the fight except for when Danny’s talking directly to him

- “nobody. and i mean NOBODY hurts my friends.” and we’re back to Peter being all business

- hey guess what. Peter and Danny where walking next to each other after a fight again.

- camera pans over to Sam when he speaks and shows Sam and Danny instead of just Sam

- Peter says stop and Danny (and Luke) is right there to enforce Peter’s rules

- GUESS WHO’S RIGHT BEHIND PETER AS THEY’RE GEARING UP TO FIGHT AGAIN

- do i even need to say it at this point? becaue Fury may have been right behind Peter but Danny was a step behind Fury and that fucking MEANS SOMETHING

- the SECOND Gobling starts going after Danny, Peter is on his feet and MOVING to take the threat out

- “you wanna know who’s responsible for who i am? my mentors! my friends! my team!” aww, he gives credit to his team, that’s so cute

- Peter doesn’t quip when he’s pissed off at the villain he’s fighting. Goblin not only attacked him and Harry, Goblin attack Peter’s teammates. Goblin hurt Peter’s teammates and that’s a transgression Peter cannot forgive

- honestly, i’m just taking a shot every time Peter and Danny are standing behind or next to each other after, during, or before a battle

- there’s a metaphor here about mental health and how the Goblin is the angriest and darkest part of Norman. Goblin wanting to stay as he is, is kinda like a metaphor for a person who doesn’t want to get help, who wants to stay the way they are dealing with the symptoms and triggers that are part of their mental illness. it’s awful to see, in a way

- “i will find them. all of them!” and Peter’s up on his feet threatening both Goblin and Venom with bodily harm if a single one touches his family

- and this is forshadowing for the season 2 finale

- when Peter is presumed dead after the hellicarrier explodes, Ava, Sam, and Luke all call out for him, they’re worried about who’s gonna tell Aunt May. you know who doesn’t say a word? Danny. you know who doesn’t say a word when someone they love and car about had died? that person's significant other. Danny was speechless

- and when Peter comes back up on the beach, they all look happy and shocked, but Danny? Danny’s face is pure relief

- and WHO EMBRACES PETER FIRST? IT’S DANNY

- and Danny coming in with the comforting advice that makes Peter stop and LISTEN

- and here’s where we find out that the other four heroes actually live on the hellicarrier which once again brings me to the question, where the hell have they been the past season when the hellicarrier was under attack? you don’t see them anywhere else but school or training or mission

- honorable powerspideyfist mentions: Peter (teasingly) insults Ava and Sam, gives Luke and Danny compliments. this also applies to Spideyfist

~~~

and this seasons total Spideyfist count is: 169 interaction out of 26 episode.

thank you so much for reading! season 2 coming soon!

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sarah-dipitous · 1 year

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 38

Born Under a Bad Sign/Rise of the Cybermen

"Born Under a Bad Sign"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Someone died (maybe), but it was before the first five minutes, so...I guess I'm okay

So, Sam killed or majorly injured SOMEONE, but that's the mystery of this episode.

This guy extorting Dean for info about what happened wit Sam is kinda...I kinda love it.

God, watching Sam watch himself kill someone just breaks my heart. Look...I fully believe a demon hijacked Sam (especially given the recap), but omg Sam's insistence that he's terrible and a danger to all around him is...I wanna hug him. or punch him in the face, knock some sense into him. i'm not sure which

"Love" how he keeps insisting it WAS him just because it was is body being used to kill...like they've never seen anyone be possessed. And he doesn't remember anything that happened...SAMMY. You're literally just getting random flashes of memories.

Uuuuggggghhhh, Dean saying he'd rather die than have to kill Sam...um...what the fuck just happened. I'm still goin with demon possession, but didn't expect Sam to clock Dean in the face with the butt of the gun...

I don't like this...I know this isn't really Sam but it's still hard to watch. Might be what makes it extra hard to watch. Sam's gonna hate himself even more after finding out what "he" did and tried to do to Jo.

At least Jo knows it's not really him, but...it's not gonna make him hate himself any less.

Ah, Dean just had to get him in the splash zone with some holy water.

WHY IS JO ASKING IF SAM WAS POSSESSED?? LIKE, OBVIOUSLY HE'S POSSESSED. (guess it could have been a shapeshifter)

Oh...oh Bobby...Bobby's so fuckin smart

"You know when people want to describe the worst possible thing they say it's like Hell? Well, there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um, well it's like Hell" is an actual line from this episode. What was the writers room doing this ep???

And yet, just a few minutes later they come up with "If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you," causing endless tears

"Been On My Mind...": Not gonna count the demon possessing Sam assaulting Jo.

"Rise of the Cybermen"

I'm never excited about the first part of two parters, but...maybe the promise of the cybermen will be enough

I know it's mostly because it's a British show that most of the Earth stuff takes place there, but I do think it's funny how many times they have to fend off alien invasion. Like, whatcha scared of?

"The TARDIS is dead" "You can fix it..." girl, no. I mean, yes, because we're in season 2 of 15 (so far), but like...the TARDIS isn't a phone battery

Oh, Rose, the Doctor might be right but I couldn't blame you one bit for wanting to go see your alternate universe dad.

You can really tell this was from a bygone era by the fact that the guy filming wasn't just holding his phone, but oh was that a terrible scene to have to watch

Omg look at his smiiiile. Sorry he’s just precious

I'm sorry, Mickey, WHAT? Doing some fuckshit in an alternate universe is one thing when there's a time limit. Getting STUCK in an alternate universe is one thing. CHOOSING to stay and do whatever you want in an alternate universe because your on and off girlfriend has a new man is quite another...

The Cyrus Industries people are CARTOONISHLY evil but not in a fun way...

The cybermen are truly terrifying though...

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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loving-barnes · 2 years

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LET ME FIX THIS - BUCKY BARNES

(A/N): Sorry, I can’t handle sad stories, or angsty stories without a happy ending.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!female!reader

Warning: angst, enemies to lovers? , violence, attempt of sexual assault, fluff at the very end

Summary: Bucky got scared of his feeling, ruining everything and making Y/N leave. Will he be able to fix it?

Words: 7800+

FULL MASTERLIST

LET ME FIX THIS - BUCKY BARNES

“What the actual fuck?!”

Y/N came rushing into the living room, eyes filled with rage and fire. If looks could kill, half of the room would be dead. The team was sitting on a couch, watching some dull TV show, enjoying their time off. But with Y/N’s tsunami-like entrance, they all turned to her, scared for their lives.

“You alright?” Tony asked carefully.

Her eyes found his face, but instantly, they looked at the only person that brought her to this state. Barnes. He was sitting on the couch, body relaxed with a smug grin on his face, proud of what he had done. He knew damn well why she was angry and it only brought him joy.

“What the fuck, Barnes? How dare, how fucking dare you decide whether I am capable of going to Tokyo or not. I have been working on that mission for weeks - weeks you hear me - and Fury announces to me that YOU are the one who is taking over the mission and also banned me from going on it?! Excuse me?!”

Steve turned to his best friend, frowning. “Bucky, what?” Steve couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Why did you do that?”

“Exactly!” she shouted, pissed at that dull man who was getting on her nerves. “Why the fuck did you do that? I can’t believe he is the one going to Tokyo and will be leading the mission. You have some nerve kicking me out of my job.”

She had everything planned into the tiniest details; recruited several agents and Sam agreed to help her. Now, he was not in the living room, therefore he couldn’t stand up for her and help her kick his ass.

“I am more eligible than you,” he said sternly. “That plan you made, was a suicide mission and even though you are enhanced, you would fuck it up. The distraction you have created is a fucking joke-”

He was cut off by a flying glass that missed his head and smashed against the wall behind him. Bucky gasped, surprised she would use her power to hurt him. “What the fuck, Y/L/N!”

“I am so angry at you, you have no idea.” Her face was already red. “This was a low blow, Barnes.”

He was already on his feet. “Says the one that threw a glass at me. How ironic.”

Again, if looks could kill, he would be dead three times in a row, buried 20 feet underground. She was about to jump at his neck and beat the shit out of him when Steve jumped in front of her and held her shoulders. “Easy there, Y/N.”

“Let me go, Rogers,” she was shaking, her teeth grinding. “Let me go. I want to punch his fucking face. He’s been torturing me for the last six months. He fucking deserves his teeth punched out of his mouth.”

“Y/N, enough. We can solve this,” he tried to calm her down.

Her eyes darkened and her power pushed Steve away from her. He almost tripped down on the floor. She never used her powers on anyone until now. Her body was shaking and she couldn’t control it anymore. She was on the verge of destroying the whole room.

Bucky was making her life miserable. He always had to ruin something - a mission, a girl’s night or a potential date. He was there at the worst time possible, practically ruining her life. She was fed up with his antics, and it hurt a lot because… she had a soft spot for him in her heart. Why did she let that happen?

No matter how mean he would be towards her, or how many times he would ruin something, she would somehow forgive him, because she liked him. It hurt her more that he didn’t see her that way - hell, he despised her. It was a weird combination - having a crush on someone who made her life a living hell in the compound. And she was tired, hurt and this… this was unacceptable. He made her feel as if she was less than any other member of the team; incapable of leading a mission. As if he was saying, she wasn’t worth being an Avenger.

He kept treating her like shit for many months. And what's more, he kept breaking her heart almost every time there was a party. With all those girls, wrapped around his finger, of course, she didn’t matter to him at all.

Without any other word, she turned on her heel and stormed off the living room, her stomach squeezing in pain and her eyes filled with hot tears.

Y/N hid in her room, then headed to the bathroom where she took a hot, long shower where she could let her tears fall with the droplets of water. Why did he hate her so much? Was his mission to kick her out of the team?

These last two months were unbearable. When they first met, he seemed nice and friendly. He would be polite to her and made her feel welcome and accepted. She never would have thought he was an asshole. You know what they say - still, waters run deep. Maybe, there was one thing she could do to end the pain and avoid him once and for all.

When she came out of the shower, Natasha was sitting on her bed, patiently waiting for her.

“What?” Y/N hissed, moving around her to the dresser where she picked up clean clothes. “Are you here to give me a lesson, because I am not in the mood to listen to that.”

“I understand that you are pissed at Barnes,” she started. “He had no right to do that, however-”

“I shouldn’t attack him. Sorry, not sorry,” she said and hid in the bathroom where she changed into clean clothes. “He deserved that. He deserved to be punched in that… perfect face of his. Fucking mother fucker…”

“Oh Y/N,” she sighed. She stood up from the bed and when her friend came back to the room, she tightly hugged her. “You like him, don’t you?” she declared sadly.

“No, I don’t.”

She frowned. “Come on. If you don’t and really hate him as you present yourself, you would already punch his face and make him suffer a bit more. I know you pretty well.”

“Nat,” she pushed her body away. “I don’t like him. He treats me like shit like he would like to get rid of me. But, if he wants it so much, so be it. Give me a few days and I’ll be gone.”

The redhead raised her brows, unsure if she meant what she thought. “What are you saying?”

Y/N sat down on the bed, tired from the conversation. “I will ask for a transfer, not from one department to another but to a base in London.”

“No. We can solve this,” she pleaded. “I will talk to him and make him apologize to you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Nat. He would never mean it sincerely. I don’t want to hear that. Now, I want to be left alone. I am tired and would like to rest,” and she slammed the door, waiting for her to leave.

It was rude. She would never kick her friend out of her bedroom. And Natasha knew well not to push Y/N. This time, she was upset and wasn’t in the mood to talk or argue, or anything. When Natasha left without another word, she reached for her tablet where she typed the e-mail, asking for a transfer. The HQ in London sounded like a place she could picture herself living in.

The process would take some time, and an interview, where they would question her reasons, was necessary, but she was determined to do it. Being in love with a man that despised her was damaging. Without him and his nagging, she would be able to focus on her work and forget about him.

A knock on the door interrupted her. Annoyed by the intruder, she rolled her eyes. “What?” she growled.

“Y/N, open up,” said Sam urgently. “You cannot do this.”

She never sprinted from the bed to the door this fast. But she was pissed even more now. Steam was coming out of her ears. She had enough today. When she opened the door, Steve was standing there as well, eyes sad like a puppy.

“Y/N.”

“No,” she stopped them. “I don’t want to hear it. I am not changing my mind.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sam whined.

“Good night, boys,” and she slapped the door in front of their faces.

If those two came, others would too and she wasn’t in the mood to hear any more words. Quickly, she put on some jeans and a plain shirt, packed a few clothes into a backpack and left her room through the window. Some would say it was childish, but she didn’t give a fuck anymore. With her skills and powers, she managed to climb down the wall and sneak into the garage where she borrowed one of the motorbikes.

At that same time, someone knocked on the door of her room.

“Y/N, it’s me,” said Bucky with a lower, almost sad voice. “Please, open. I would like to apologize.”

Not a sound came out of her room.

“Come on, Y/N. I want to talk to you. Can I please come on?” he asked politely. Still, nothing.

Bucky opened the door, peeking in. Her bed was messy, some clothes were on the floor. He noticed the window open. She ran away. What had he done?

His heart broke. This time, he knew he crossed the line, but there was a reason why he did it. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, not even himself. Now, she’s gone.

Bucky came back to the kitchen, his face pale. “Uh,” his voice broke, not knowing how to announce it to the team.

“So?” Natasha waited, arms crossed over her breasts.

“She, uh, ran away.”

“What?!” they all gasped simultaneously.

“What do you mean ran away?” Sam asked. “See, this is why you should have told her the truth weeks ago, but no, you had to be a dick and make her feel miserable.”

“The truth?” Wanda joined in.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, isn’t it obvious? He likes the girl but treats her like shit.”

“I… don’t like Y/N,” he failed to lie.

Natasha sat down on a barstool, face hiding into her hands. “Oh my god, for a trained assassin, you suck at lying.”

“Are you in love?” Steve asked.

“No,” Bucky said. Again, no one was convinced.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Sam rolled his eyes.

Barnes groaned, leaning against the nearest wall. “What do you want me to say? That I like her and don’t want her to go to Tokyo because I am scared she would get hurt?!”

“Well, maybe, if you had talked to her, none of this would happen.”

Steve shook his head. “Do we have any idea where she could have gone?”

They were silently thinking, but no answer was coming to their minds. “She has no one in the city or around,” Wanda was the first one to speak. “I don’t even know if she has a family or any other friends outside us.”

“She doesn’t,” Nat said.

“We are her family,” Sam commented, still pissed.

“She left on her own,” Steve said. “I think we should wait until tomorrow morning and if she’s not back and doesn’t send a message, we will go look for her.”

“I just hope she will think twice and not ask for a transfer,” Natasha sighed.

“What?” Bucky’s voice hitched. “What transfer?”

“She wants to leave, because of you,” Sam growled at him and he huffed. “You were so mean to her that she is fed up with you. Buck, Y/N is so sick of you that she needs an outing. And this is a perfect opportunity for her.”

Tony came to the kitchen with a frown on his face. He had a hologram over his hand and he was checking documents. “I hate to break it to you but she already asked for a transfer.” He showed him the email she sent before she left.

Natasha already had her phone on the ear, calling her. Unfortunately, she had turned off her phone. “She’s not picking up. I might try to track what I can.”

“No,” Steve stopped her. “Let her be and we will wait until tomorrow morning. I suggest we all take a break, go to bed and think about what happened,” he stood up from a chair and went out of the kitchen. “Night, everyone.”

Natasha and Sam left without a word, followed by Tony and Wanda. Bucky stayed there alone. His mind was running wild, cursing himself for what he had done. This is what he wanted all along. He should be happy - but wasn’t.

Steve was right, he should wait until tomorrow morning and deal with it.

Meanwhile, Y/N was in a hotel room in the city, enjoying peace and quiet. She was hidden under the covers and watching TV, laughing at her favourite TV show Friends. It never failed to amuse her.

She had her phone turned off and hidden in the backpack. She had to pay for the room with cash, otherwise, someone from the team would already be banging on her door.

The transfer was an amazing idea. She could perfectly picture herself walking down the street in London, eating fish and chips, enjoying the sights and tea. She loved tea. Of course, it would take time to make new friends, but she survived before she joined the team. She could do it all over again.

When the Ross and Rachel kissing scene appeared, her laugh and smile disappeared from her face. The scene was adorable and all she wanted was for them to be together. She used to fantasize about her and Bucky, having their romantic kiss. But she knew that would never happen - not after today. With a deep breath, she tried to get rid of those thoughts and simply focused on the show.

Her mind kept drifting back to the team and Bucky. I kept her occupied almost all night.

…

After a lovely breakfast in the hotel, she packed her belongings and went back to the HQ. Her stomach was making flips as she was nearing the compound. She knew they would question her and make a speech about her not leaving, but she was determined to do it.

Another idea popped into her head - moving from the team immediately. She still had some money and would be able to pay rent for a few months in the city. And even though she felt sad for leaving the team, the thought of Barnes made her blood boil. It was all his fault. Maybe his ego and masculinity couldn’t handle the fact that there were too many females in the team. She laughed.

Once she parked the motorcycle in the garage, Tony’s voice came roaring from the walls. “Welcome home. We missed you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and kept silent.

“Wow, you must be really pissed. Listen, I know you are mad and upset and would like to punch the Manchurian Candidate in his perfect teeth but, please, don’t leave us. We can solve this whole problem once and for all. Come, we are waiting for you in the living room.”

She didn’t listen. Instead, she went straight to her room, where she locked herself and started to pack the most important stuff she had - clothes, books, cosmetics and of course she put in a group picture with the team.

A tear escaped her eye as she kept staring at the photo. She loved them with her whole heart. But as she kept looking at the photo, she noticed she didn’t fit in. It was just her head messing with her, but she believed it. Everyone looked Godly, like a Greek sculpture and she was just an outsider.

She turned around the room and checked it one last time before she left it with a suitcase and a filled backpack. With all her belongings, she came slowly to the living room where the whole team was impatiently sitting. Tony was already drinking some whisky with Sam. The rest of them had coffee or tea.

Y/N didn’t make a sound. She just crossed her arms over her breasts and kept looking down at the floor. She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Y/N!” they started to say her name but she didn’t react.

“Why did you leave?”

“Why did you turn off your phone?”

“I’m so glad you are with-” Sam stopped talking when he noticed the suitcase behind her. “What is that?” he pointed at it. “Y/N, tell me this is a sick joke.”

“You are leaving?” Natasha’s eyes widened.

“No,” Steve shook his head. “You are not leaving. We will discuss everything, alright?”

She never said a word. She didn’t have the energy. And the one person that hurt her the most kept silent. They all tried, he didn’t. Her head raised up and she glared at them, one by one.

“Please, sit,” Wanda pointed at the spot next to her.

This time, it was her time to talk. She was thinking about leaving without a word, but she decided to tell them what was running on her mind and heart.

“I have been thinking,” she started slowly, still keeping the same posture. “About the whole situation that has been happening for months,” she sounded tired. “I don’t know what went wrong or when it all turned to shit, but everything that has been happening, made me question myself a lot. It got me thinking whether I belong here or not.”

“Of course you belong,” Steve sighed sadly.

“I came to the conclusion that,” she stopped for a moment, thinking about the picture she packed. She was different; she didn’t fit. “I don’t belong here.”

“Don’t say that,” Natasha stopped her. “Don’t you say something that is not true?”

“I don’t belong here, Natasha. I am not an Avenger or someone that looks like a model from magazines. I am not one of you and even though I have some abilities that could kill a person, I am too different. I don’t fit. Someone made it really clear over the past few months,” she said.

“Y/N,” Bucky sighed, his heart-shattering. He caused this.

She took a deep breath. It was hard to let out the words. “I love you. You a- were my family but now, I must move on.”

Wanda’s eyes filled with tears. “No,” she was broken.

“It will be best for everyone around to change the air and make it easier to breathe.”

They all started talking at the same time. No matter what they tried to tell her, she had already decided to move on and leave. As they kept talking, she turned on her heel, grabbed her belongings and walked away.

“Y/N! Please, don’t do this.”

“Don’t leave. You belong here, with us,” it was Sam. “We can all agree that Barnes is a dick!”

But she didn’t turn around. As she was walking, she took out her phone from the pocket and smashed it on the ground, additionally stepping on it. She didn’t want to be tracked. It was a sign she was serious.

No one tried to actually stop her. She hoped Sam would be the one to drag her back to the living room and talk her out of it but he didn’t.

It turned out she was right. She didn’t fit and they obviously thought the same.

…

It all happened over a month ago. It was becoming less painful as she focused on her new life.

Y/N was in the city, living in a small, furnished apartment. It was a nice place, she had to admit. Although, she felt lonely. Usually, she would have coffee with the girls or hang out with Sam. Now, she was alone. It would take some time for her to get used to it.

The next few days were long, but it got better. She met some people the other night at a bar down the street. It all happened spontaneously. First time in a long time, she wasn’t alone. It was a very amusing group of young people. They even invited her to play darts with them.

She was walking down the street, late in the evening with a hot tea in her hands as she kept checking the surroundings and mapping the city. She wasn’t afraid of walking alone. She was an Avenger - was. Her mind rather kept drifting to the new people she met.

She hadn’t heard from anyone from the team, nor did they try to find her. She was right, she didn’t belong and they didn’t care as they presented.

“Hey beautiful, wanna hang out?” a voice said behind her back.

“Come with us and let’s have some fun,” said another man.

Y/N rolled her eyes and kept walking, ignoring them. It was annoying that men thought it was alright to catcall women and follow them. Fortunately for her, they didn’t know who they would be dealing with.

“Hey, darling, wait for us,” they tried again.

A moment later, two men came to her side, smiling at her. One of them dared to put an arm around her shoulders. “We are talking to you, gorgeous. You don’t have a mouth?”

“Maybe she is an obedient little girl, not talking to strangers,” the other one laughed.

“What do you say, little one?”

Y/N was annoyed as never before; not even Barnes was this annoying. She stopped walking and gave the men a death glare, shaking off the arm around her. “You fuckers are on very thin ice,” she warned them. “This is your only warning.”

“Oh,” the first one almost moaned. “I love a challenge, sweetheart.” Before she knew what was happening, they took her to the alley next to a giant garbage bin and they forced her to the wall. A hand appeared pressed on her neck. “Not so tough now, huh?”

“We should teach you a lesson, pretty face.”

“Oh, you really think I am pretty?” She faked a smile and her eyes blinked a few times innocently. “Thanks, guys,” and she twisted his hand as Natasha showed her once during training, making him scream in pain. Something snapped in his wrist. With her power, she threw him on the opposite wall. As she was about to spin around and kick the other guy, he was already grabbed by the neck by a black and gold vibranium hand and thrown on the gold ground.

“Don’t touch her!” Bucky growled at him like a wolf. His eyes were dark and ready to kill him. His fist came in contact with the man’s face.

Y/N sighed. Of course, this would happen. “I don’t need your help, Barnes. I got it under control.”

“Sure you did,” he scoffed.

Her hands were in the air, already annoyed by his presence and stupid remark. “What the actual fuck, Barnes. You have the audacity to come here, pretend how you saved me from two fuckers and then underestimate me? What the fuck?”

His flesh hands grabbed her by her forearm and he dragged her out of the alley, heading to a black Audi that definitely belonged to Stark.

“Leave me alone,” she got away from his grip and used her power to push him away. “Don’t you ever touch me again!”

The people started to turn around and watch this two scream at each other. Some of them didn’t pay attention to them, others even opened their phones and started to record them. That was a trend at this time - people being nosy and watching the drama unfold that had to be captured on a phone.

“You are coming with me. I am taking you home where you belong.”

“I am not going with you. Why should I? To listen to you complaining about me, making my life miserable? Because I feel like shit when I am at the HQ with you, under one roof. I cannot stand the fact you hate me so much and make my life a living hell, making me as if I am nothing!”

Bucky hated every word that came out of her mouth. He was the one that caused her pain with his actions and attitude, even when in reality he loved her and it scared the shit out of him. Nothing scared him more than the love he carried in his heart for the woman who hated his guts.

Before he could think twice, his hands were gripping her shoulders, staring into her beautiful yet angry eyes. “You have to come home, Y/N. The team misses you. I fucking miss you. You belong to the team, to the family. I fucked up, I know. I need you to come home.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” she questioned. “You miss me? I have no home. You made sure of that.”

She dared to look into his blue eyes. She noticed how sad and tired they were as if he didn’t sleep for days. Was he telling the truth? That was impossible. He hated her and this was a trick. As she kept looking into his eyes, she forgot to push him away again.

“I am not joking,” he sighed. “I know you will not believe, not trust me, but I am telling the truth.”

“The hell you are,” she rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Let me go and let me live my li-”

A shot was heard from the back, taking Y/N’s breath away. A yelp escaped her throat as she felt a painful sting hitting her right shoulder.

“Y/N!” Bucky screamed her name, quickly taking her into his arms and moving them around the car to take cover. She was hissing in pain, bleeding from her shoulder. When Bucky took out his gun from the holster hidden under his jacket, he tried to shoot the person who dared to harm Y/N. It was one of the guys that tried to assault her. He was armed.

The people were panicking, running around, trying to hide. Bucky aimed his gun towards the first man, shooting him in the leg. Then he took cover again as another shot was fired at him.

Y/N was hissing from all the pain, trying to overcome it by focusing on the panicked crowd of people and Bucky’s voice talking to her. His hand was pressed against her bleeding shoulder as he kept talking sweet nothings to her.

“I’m fine,” she gritted her teeth. “It stings. Fuck.”

“Please, focus on me,” he tried to turn her head towards him, her eyes catching his. “Do you live nearby? Or should I take you to the hospital?”

“I live one block away. It’s nothing, take me home.”

When Bucky looked up again, the other man was gone, leaving his friend on the ground, bleeding from his leg. At the same time, the police cars stopped by them, officers running towards Bucky and Y/N as well as the man.

“Mr Barnes,” the cop’s eyes widened. “Ms Y/L/N, we’re calling the ambulance.”

“No need,” she said. “It’s just a scratch.”

“The man on the ground shot first. His friend, who ran away, and he tried to take advantage of her,” he explained. “But they forgot they were dealing with an Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger.”

“Yes you are,” Bucky spat back.

The cop and Bucky helped Y/N stand up as they opened the back seat door and put her in. “We’ll be in touch, Mr Barnes. Take her to the hospital.”

When Bucky sat behind the wheel, she heard her growl in pain, gasping for air. “Fucking shit,” she took a deep breath. “Take me home, now. I will show you where.”

He knew not to question her or do as he thought was the best. Bucky took her home and she took him to the apartment she temporarily lived in. It was a small, yet cosy place - a place where he could imagine himself with her by his side, spending their lives together.

“First aid?” he asked.

“Bathroom, the lower cabinet under the sink,” she threw herself on the couch.

He did as told, bringing it back to the living room where she struggled with her bloody clothes. Without a word, he helped her rip off the shirt she wore, only to get to the wound that was still bleeding.

“I can see the bullet,” he whispered when he cleaned the wound. “It’s going to-”

Her fingers were already deep in the wound, taking the bullet out of the shoulder. Profanities were leaving her mouth.

“It’s going to need a few stitches, Y/N,” he commented when he checked the wound from back to front. “Please, let me take you to HQ where they will treat you.”

“And then what, you expect me to run back to you and relive everything again?” she frowned. “Why would I possibly do that?”

“Come on, Y/N, let me help you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she rolled her eyes, annoyed.

Bucky’s lower lip trembled. He had to tell her, even though he knew she wouldn’t believe her. But it was worth the try. “I- I love you, Y/N.”

Her eyes widened and the world stopped for a second for her to process the words. Of course, he wasn’t serious. “You don’t love me.”

“I swear, on my life, I fucking love you, Y/N. And I was terrified of those feelings.”

She shook her head. “Why are you doing this? To hurt me even more? What kind of sick joke is this? You don’t love me, James,” she raised her voice. “This isn’t love. This is you manipulating me to come back and be somewhere I don’t belong.”

“You do belong to the team,” his voice trembled. “And I do love you.”

“You don’t,” she shouted at him and her eyes filled with tears. “How could you love me when you broke me, Bucky? I loved you, I wanted nothing more than to be with you. And you treated me like trash as if I was no one, not worthy of being an Avenger. That’s not love.”

All this time, she loved him. His heart shattered. How could he not see?

“You have made me insecure and weak. You made me leave and now you are telling me you love me? How would you let someone you love suffer?”

His hands grabbed her face as his eyes got easily lost on hers. A tear escaped his eye as he was listening to her. “I will beat myself every day for treating you like shit because you don’t deserve that.”

She kept quiet. “How can I believe you?”

“You don’t,” he said. “But I will do everything to show you that I am not lying. I will do anything to gain your trust. Maybe I will not get your love and that is fine. After everything I have done to you, I don’t deserve it.”

Y/N bit her lower lip, shaking her head. “You wanna make amends? Fine. Patch my shoulder.”

Bucky got to work without any questions. He wanted to help her fix the wound. If only he could fix her heart and soul. Maybe after that, she would ask him to leave. He finished it in silence.

“There is a suitcase in my wardrobe,” she pointed at the small bedroom. “Take it out and put it on the bed.” Bucky’s eyes shone. Would she come back to the team? “I will go back until I have to settle for the transfer.”

At that moment, Bucky leaned away from her. “Yeah, about that, Tony got rid of your application and cancelled everything that was planned - his idea.”

“Alright, so, I’m going to kick his ass when I’m back at the HQ,” and for the first time in weeks, she laughed. The image popped into her head. It was funny.

Bucky smiled from ear to ear, amused by her sentence. “Well, I can help you with that, you know, as a part of making amends.” Without thinking, he took her face into his hands, staring deeply into her eyes. “I am so sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

It was hard to breathe. “Just take me home,” she said with tears in her eyes. “If I can still call it home and am welcomed there.

“Of course you are. We have been looking for you since you left. We thought that maybe, you would be back a day or two later but when you didn’t, it was our mission to find you and bring you back.”

“Just bring me my coat so I don’t go like this outside,” she pointed at her bloodied and torn clothes and a patched shoulder.

A genuine smile appeared on Bucky’s face. “As you wish. What about your belongings?”

She waved a hand, her energy low. “I will deal with that later.”

As requested, he went to her bedroom and found a long black coat. Then, he noticed a photo on a nightstand - the whole team during Tony’s party. He knew the night like the back of his hand because the only thing he could focus on was her in that seductive red dress. It made his heart warm.

The ride to the HQ was long and silent. Y/N rather kept her head turned to the window, watching nature when they left the city. The silence was better than bickering. She was waiting for the plot twist, but it didn’t come. Occasionally, she could see Bucky’s reflection in the window. His head would turn to her from time to time, checking her out.

When they parked in front of the main building, Steve, Natasha and Sam were already outside, awaiting her arrival. They were all smiles and cheers until they found the wound on her shoulder. The bandage was already covered in blood. The wound needed stitches.

“What the fuck happened?” Sam panicked.

Natasha quickly grabbed her by the left arm, helping her get inside as fast as possible. “It’s his fault,” she said.

“What?!” Sam and Steve turned to Bucky, ready to scream at him.

“She’s joking. She got shot by a predator,” he put his hands in the air in defeat.

“Nat, take her to the med bay, you, my friend, will give us an update upstairs,” Steve gave orders.

For now, Y/N and Bucky’s roads split. Y/N was glad she didn’t have to look at his face because those sad, puppy eyes were killing her. Her mind kept drifting to him and therefore she didn’t listen to a word Natasha said to her.

“Give me the coat,” she heard after a while. The warm material slipped off her shoulders and was taken away. Hands were working over her wound, taking off the bloody bandages.

“Y/N?” Natasha said her name. “Are you alright?”

She wasn’t. She blinked a few times. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I am tired.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” Bruce said from behind her. “Nothing life-threatening but you might feel tired.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, that would be it.”

“How did Barnes find you,” Natasha asked.

“I have no idea. Suddenly, he was there and we were squabbling in the middle of the street. It was very entertaining considering the fact that people kept recording us,” she rolled her eyes. “And he didn’t shoot me. Two assholes thought they would be able to rape me but miscalculated. Unfortunately, one of them had a gun and while we were in the middle of a verbal fight, I got shot from the back.”

“Uh, Y/N? Why don’t you lie down on your left side? You are losing colour,” Bruce pointed at her face.

“Yeah,” she nodded, doing as was told. “I really need a nap.”

Before he could hear Natasha’s words and Bruce comments, she fell asleep on the med bed while they treated her shoulder.

…

She woke up a few hours later, still being in the med bay, resting on a bed. Wanda was sitting by her side, waiting for her to wake up. “Hey,” she whispered, smiling at her.

“Wanda, what are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you. You have been sleeping for some hours. How are you feeling?”

Y/N sat up, hissing in pain coming from the fixed shoulder. “I am well. Bit of pain here and there but it will get better.”

Something was running through Wanda’s mind as if she wanted to ask something. It took her some time, but she did. “How’s it between you and Bucky?”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “Please, that’s a whole chapter. He thinks that confessing love to me will make me forget everything. Such a liar.”

“Uh,” Wanda sighed, taking Y/N’s hand into hers. “He’s not lying.”

“What?”

“Bucky is not lying. He really is in love with you,” she whispered.

“No,” Y/N gasped. “No, he isn’t,” she still couldn’t believe it. “No. He just said it to…”

Wanda shook her head. “You should have seen him. He wasn’t sleeping, he was looking for you the whole time. He found you by the city live cameras and footage of you in a bar, hanging with some people.”

“He really loves me?” and Wanda simply nodded. “I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. I don’t know how to feel.”

“Give it time,” she suggested. “I know it’s not easy after what happened.”

There was a knock on the door and Sam entered without waiting. He was smiling like a child, happy to see Y/N back in the HQ. “Wassup baby?” he grinned, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Took a long nap so I can’t complain.”

“Well, you look way better than Barnes. He’s literally on the verge of a breakdown,” he laughed.

Y/N shook her head. “Sam, that is not funny. You should take care of him and not laugh at him.”

“Well, he deserves to suffer,” he said. “He hurt you, Y/N. He should feel bad for his actions. We almost lost you because of his actions. So, no, I don’t feel bad for him.”

“Did you know he’s in love with me?” Y/N changed the topic, waiting for his reaction. “He told me when he patched me up in my apartment.”

“First, he did a terrible job,” he said, which almost resulted in Y/N throwing a pillow at him. “And two, I didn’t. Well, I knew he liked you, I didn’t know he was in love with you.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Wanda spoke.

She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Sam reached for her hand. “Y/N, do you love him? Because Natasha told us, and by us, I mean everyone except Barnes, that you actually like him.”

She was getting tired again. “I did- I do- I don’t know,” she shook her head and leaned back. “I’m hurt, I have mixed feelings and I have no idea what I’m going to do. If I could, I would run away all over again.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Sam threatened her with a raised finger.

“It takes time,” said Wanda. “Just let time do its magic and you’ll see. If you are meant to be together, you will find your way to each other.”

Y/N grinned, rolling her eyes at the cheesy words. “Guys, I need you to do something for me. Take my keys, I will give you an address and please, bring back all my clothes to HQ.”

“So, you’ll stay?” Wanda smiled.

“Yeah, I’m staying. But I’m still kicking Tony’s ass for deleting my transfer request.”

. . .

In the evening, Bruce let her leave the med bay but ordered her to bed rest and no training for two weeks. Natasha and Wanda brought her belongings back to the HQ and left them in her room. Sam had to help Steve and Fury with a mission report.

The team treated her like royalty. Tony made sure she had food in her room hot and ready to eat. Steve stole a quick hug before he had to do some work. Clint and his wife sent you a nice text. The only person that didn’t see her in the med bay or hadn’t talked to her was Bucky. Maybe he finally took a nap or took care of himself since she came back to the team.

She missed her bed, her room and bathroom. The food Tony ordered for her smelled nice. It was a healthy meal with a lot of vegetables and meat. She sat at the desk where the plate was, ready to dig in when a knock interrupted her.

“Come in.”

She was expecting Natasha, Wanda or even Vision to come to visit her. But she certainly wasn’t expecting Bucky.

“Hey,” he barely whispered.

“Hi,” she said back.

“How are you feeling?” he closed the door behind him.

“Not bad,” she looked at her patched shoulder. “Still taking some pain killers but it’s good. What about you? I’ve heard you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

He shook his head. “So they told you,” he chuckled.

“Yes, they did. And you need to take care of yourself.”

“I- I don’t feel like I deserve any type of self-care,” he admitted. His words made her heartbreak.

Y/N stood up from the desk, approached him only to take his hand and made him sit behind the desk. “Eat, now.”

He shook his head. “This is your food. I can’t-”

“Shut up and eat, Barnes.”

With a simple laugh, he nodded, taking a fork into his hand and taking a bite of the meat. “I feel bad for eating your meal.”

“And Imma kick your ass if you don’t finish the plate,” she said sternly, sitting down on the bed, eyes never leaving his figure. “Just because something happened, doesn’t mean you will stop eating and sleeping.”

“Y/N, I just-”

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” she stopped him again. “Anything can be fixed. It needs time; time for me to heal and get back to this life as an Avenger.”

He nodded. They kept silent until he finished the whole plate. Y/N was on her tablet, reading some news articles. “Y/N,” he said carefully. “What I said back there, in your apartment, was all true. It still is true.”

If the situation was different, if the last few months never happened, she would jump on him, expressing the same feelings. Now, she was perplexed. The only reaction she was capable of was a simple nod.

“And I totally understand that you don’t feel the same. After everything that I put you through-”

“I feel the same,” she sighed, eyes rather focusing on her bed. “It’s just-” She didn’t know what to say. “This whole situation is so difficult and confusing.”

“I know,” Bucky nodded. “And I am sorry. It is all my fault.”

This time, she nodded because it was true. “You know, there is still hope. If you really mean everything you said, you have enough room to prove it and show that the three beautiful words every girl wants to hear are true.”

As she said, there was hope and Bucky’s eyes sparkled from the second chance he got, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. “Other people would give up,” he commented.

“Well, I’m not like other people,” she said. “Tell me this - why did you turn and start to hate me?”

“I didn’t-”

“I know. But the question stands. Why? Was it because of the feelings?”

He thought back at the day when he decided to take a step back. That day, he discovered how jealous he was when she talked to other men and it proved that he was madly in love with her. “I got jealous,” he cleared his throat. “And I realized that I was drowning in the feelings I felt - feel - towards you. Therefore, I became a dick and here we are.”

“Oh, Barnes,” she shook her head, chuckling.

Bucky had to laugh. “I know, I am an idiot.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, finally looking up and locking eyes with him. Bucky’s cheeks were red and he was biting his inner cheek. “But you are my idiot.”

His eyes widened at those words. “Thank you, for giving me a chance.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “But give it time. It cannot be fixed with a snap of fingers.”

Bucky did as was told and his behaviour changed and treated Y/N the way she deserved. He didn’t push it too much. He never intervened when she was assigned to a dangerous mission. And at a party, he would talk to her and the team, laughing their asses off while drinking. When a woman approached him, he politely turned her down. But the same thing did Y/N.

Bucky was trying really hard and she did too. The team noticed the shift in the air when they were together. Steve was glad when he found them sitting in the living room, next to each other, talking and discussing a TV show.

“I was thinking,” Bucky said later that evening as they were alone in the living room, still watching some sit-coms. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“A date?” she smiled. “I’ve never been on one,” she admitted.

“Really?” he was surprised.

“Yes. The boys these days don’t know how to treat girls and thus I have never been on a proper date.”

“Then let me take you, Y/N. How about tomorrow - we’ll go to the cinema to see a movie and then I’ll take you to a nice sushi place because I know you love sushi.”

She smiled lovingly at him. “That is correct. I love sushi. I love Asian cuisine.”

“Good,” he took one of her hands into his and gently kissed the back of it. “So, what do you say?”

“I would love that, James.”

The TV kept illuminating their faces as they kept staring into each other’s eyes, both smiling. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied.

“Can I-” he took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”

She bit her lower lip, blushing. “Yeah, you can.”

Bucky closed the gap between them, his lips gently pressing against her lips. It was soft, gentle. Then, the kiss deepened, Bucky’s tongue slipping between her lips. Their tongues battled a little until the kiss ended. He quickly kissed her temple. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes x enhanced female reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky Barnes fluff #James Barnes x reader #Winter Soldier #White Wolf #Bucky Barnes AU

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the-superior-stark · 3 years

Text

Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: AU, Neighbor!Steve Rogers, Married (Y/N), Cheating, Smut, Breeding Kink, Marking, Oral (f receiving), Edging. Fingering, Choking

You can request HERE!

Prompt list can be found HERE and HERE!

****

As I pulled into my driveway in the pouring rain I noticed my new neighbor struggling to get his front door opened. I rolled my window down and yelled, “Hey Steve, do you need any help?” He looked up from the frustrating door lock to my car, “I think Sam has my set of keys and I have his,” he offered in explanation.

I knew of Sam seeing as how he occasionally popped by to Steve’s house and I had a few encounters with him. Steve and him had just been out together this morning, probably when the mix up happened.

“You can come in to my house for a little while and wait for Sam to bring you your house key,” I offered, with little hesitance. Steve looked unsure but willing to get out of the relentless rain.

“If it’s no problem to you, ma’am. I would greatly appreciate it.” The soaking wet man said with a gentle smile. “No problem at all, just let me get a few things from my car.”

Steve walked over to my car and offered to grab my few bags from the grocery store. I wanted to protest but my cheeks were growing hot and my eyes were glued to his chest and the water droplets falling off of his blonde hair in waves.

Me and him walked up to my front door and he stood back as I unlocked the door. I could feel his presence behind me and it was slightly intimidating but nice nonetheless.

I opened the front door and said, “Excuse the mess, I haven’t exactly had time for a deep clean with work and all and my husband sure as hell doesn't clean.” He gave me a questioning glance and I felt the need to explain myself with a short, “Late work at the office and all.”

He give a curt nod and followed me as I shuffled into the kitchen. “Can I just place these on the counter.” He asked. “Yeah, sure that’s fine.” I agreed and gave him a soft smile.

I had always thought about having this man in my house but now my fantasies just made me feel awkward. I had always had some type a thought about him that I shouldn’t. I mean who wouldn't? He is literally a perfectly created science experiment. Everything about him screams perfect.

“I’ll go and fetch you some of my husband’s lounge clothes and a towel. You’ve got to be cold in those clothes.”

I heard him thank me as I walked briskly to the bedroom I shared with my husband. I almost felt like I needed a break from the handsome man sitting in my living room. It felt as though looking at him made me feel intoxicated. Every little thing he did made my breath hitch in the back of my throat.

I grabbed a thin white t-shirt and a pair of joggers. Both were probably too small for Steve but they were the best I could offer him at the time. My husband definitely had a smaller stature than Steve so we had no clothes around the house to accommodate a man his size.

After I grabbed his clothes out of the drawers, I crossed the hall into the bathroom and quickly grabbed a towel and made my way back into my kitchen. I found Steve standing in the same place I left him, looking mostly nervous. I assumed it was because he was in a house of a girl he barely knew.

I handed him the clothes and towel I had grabbed. “Thank you for these, (Y/N). Can you point me to your bathroom so I can change?” I nodded and pointed down the hall and said, “First door on your left. If you need an extra towel there are some under the right side of the sink. Just holler if you need anything.” He nodded and made his way to the bathroom.

The house was decently sized but still small enough that I could hear every cluttered sound coming from the bathroom. Every little noise Steve made. It almost felt comforting to have someone in the house after all this time. When I was home my husband wasn't and when he was home I was at work. Hearing somebody making noise brought me a great sense of happiness as I made busy work by putting away the few groceries.

I heard the bathroom door open and Steve come out. He walked into the kitchen with his wet clothes. I could see every muscle ripple and felt like if he took a big enough breath the shirt would rip into. There was a greek god standing in my kitchen and I looked like a deer in the headlights as I drank in his appearance.

I grabbed his previous clothes from him and dropped them into one of my plastic grocery bags and placed it on the counter.

Any nervousness of his seemingly disappeared as he let out a sigh and said “Like what you see, doll.” I gulped and turned back around to what I was doing. “Guess that was a yes.” Steve chuckled out.

“It wasn’t a yes or a no, Steve.” I said, slight grimace in my tone as I wanted to say yes, but knew it wouldn't be right due to circumstances. “(Y/N), I know it’s a yes. You act like I can’t see the way you gawk at me when I do yard work or check the mail or leave for work. I see the way you look at me. Don’t try and hide that from me, doll.”

As he said what he had wanted to say, he had gotten increasingly closer to me. It felt like he was cornering me and the only thing I could do was stammer out incoherent words. Stumbling over everything I wanted to say.

“You look so pretty, all nervous over my words. You’re beautiful, doll.” Any regard I had over keeping my composure flew out of the window the moment I heard those words. I wanted him. A part of me had always wanted him since we moved into this neighborhood.

I always had my eyes on him any chance I got. He was like a drug to me. I needed him, in anyway he would possibly give me.

“Okay, maybe I do find you extremely attractive but I have a husband.” I said trying to remind myself more so than him. “Baby, I see that relationship of yours. You spend no time together. If you’re home, he's not, and vice versa. Just let it happen. He has a girlfriend anyways.”

I went slack jawed at the mention of my husbands so called ‘girlfriend’. I mean I knew, it was just the fact that even Steve knew. I’m sure everyone knew the marriage was a sham if even he could see it.

“Don’t worry, darling. I don’t think everyone knows. I just happen to be quite observant of you and your little life.” Suddenly relief washed over me but that didn’t last long.

Steve had snaked his hand up to my face to wipe away a stray tear I didn't even know was running down my face. I guess it’s the sheer anticipation and stress this situation was giving me.

On one hand, I had once loved my husband and he loved me. Now the marriage was more viewed as a partnership. I cooked and bought groceries and he kept the bills paid with occasional help from me. We both spent our own money and rarely slept in the same house together, more or less the same bed.

On the other hand, it had been so long since I had any attention. Physically or emotionally. My husband gave me nothing but a home to keep my things in. There was no love, passion, or connection. I longed for something like that. Something like that from one person only. That person being, Steve.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” Steve questioned. “I want to know everything and more about you. But first I want to explore you.”

When he got no response from me, he took matters into his own hands, stating “If you want me to stop, say the word. I leave you alone and we can never talk about it again, but something tells me you don't want that.”

My brain had finally caught up with the situation. I was very excited for what Steve had in store for me and I believed that he would take care of my every need.

Steve backed me up against the counter and traced a finger down the side of my face gently whispering about how pretty I was. “I wanna do so many things to you, doll. You gonna let me?”

I gave him a slight whimper and nod in return, begging silently in my head for him to do something. Steve took my nod into consideration and apparently he needed more. “I need some words, baby doll. Need to hear you say it. Need you to beg me. Or I walk out that door right now.”

A part of me knew he wasn’t walking out of that door anytime soon, seeing as how it was still pouring rain and Sam had yet to even respond about bringing him his keys. All rational had left my mind though. My thoughts were swimming in my head and my arousal was making me spin.

“Please, Steve. I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything you want. Just touch me. Have your way with me.” The blonde man towering over me seemed satisfied with my answer and began an assault on my lips.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” I whispered against Steve’s lips. Almost scared that if I said it too loud it would all stop. “I know, darling. Me too. For so long. Since I saw you waltz up your driveway in that black sundress for the first time. You were so perfect. Perfect for me to ruin.”

I whimpered into Steve’s mouth and he took his opportunity to slip his tongue between my parted lips. He picked me up and placed me on the counter and began to trace his lips down my neck leaving slight love bites in his wake. “I want you to wake up and see just what I’ve done to you. I want you to remember me when you look in the mirror.”

He stood back and admired his work and began to run his hands over my soft thighs. His hands seemed to be dangerously close to where I needed him most. I tried to squirm but his strong hand kept me in place. “Where are you going, (Y/N). I need you to stay still so I can do what I want. Isn’t that what you want?”

I nodded at his question and he continued to run his hands over my thighs. admiring me. His hand ghosted over where I needed him most and I let out a sigh. “You’re so eager for me. Tell me what you want me to do.” Steve said. “I want you to touch me.”

He complied easily with my request and dipped his fingers under the waistband of my leggings. He rubbed his fingers over the material of my underwear, slightly teasing me. My breathing sped up rapidly as I waited for him to pull my panties to the side.

He pulled them to the side and ran a finger through my folds. “You’re so wet already? Does he not touch you like this?” He questioned. I shook my head no in response. “You’re the only one who has touched me like this in a long time.” Steve smirked and said, “Good, keep it that way.”

He sunk a finger into my core with little resistance and used his thumb to rub soft circles over my clit. “I can take more.” I said. “You’ll take what I give you.” Steve responded. I nodded my head and let him continue his work.

He pushed a second finger in and curled them in an upwards motion. I let out a soft moan. As he continued curling his fingers, I felt myself teetering on the edge. “I’m close.” The moment those words left my lips, Steve retracted his fingers and pulled his hand out of my leggings briskly.

I let out a soft whine. “Don’t be disappointed, I’ll give you what you want soon. But I want you to cum on my face. I want to taste you.”

I took no time in shimmying out of my leggings and panties and dropped them somewhere on my kitchen floor. Steve picked me up and carried me towards the hallway. “It’s the second door on your right, if you’re looking for my bedroom.” Steve nodded and continued his path.

When he reached my bedroom, he placed me on the bed. He pulled his shirt off and hovered over me. “I took mine off, so I feel as if it’s only fair if you do the same.” I pulled my shirt off and began to unclasp my bra. “Leave the bra, I want to take it off of you when I’m ready.”

Steve began nipping his way down my chest and stopped at my bra to tug my nipple through his teeth over my bra. I let out a soft moan and raised my hips to meet his, needing more from him. “Be patient.”

He continued nipping and kissing his way down my body and reached right below my belly button. I thought he would tease me but instead he delved right in-between my folds. He licked up my pussy skillfully and looked up at me through his eyelashes. He raised his head and said, “You taste so sweet. Wish I could stay here all day.” He then continued by drawing light circles over my clit with his tongue.

I was a mess underneath him and raised my hand to curl into his blonde hair. He looked up briefly and I could see my juices gleaming in his scruff. I let out the softest groan at how his face looked covered in my wetness. I wish I could see him like this every day.

His tongue dipped into my entrance and then he quickly replaced his tongue with two fingers. Working them inside of me. My legs were starting to shake and I was getting closer to my release. “I want you to let go for me. Cum for me.” That was all it took for me to let go. It had been so long since I had an orgasm ripped from me and I was still sensitive from being edged earlier.

“You look so pretty when you cum. Love that I can make you feel so good.” Steve said as he adjusted his position to give me a kiss. He grinned his hips down into mine as the kiss got more heated and let out a soft moan at the feeling of my heat pressing against his cock.

“Can I fuck you? I wanna feel you wrapped around my cock. So tight, just for me.” Steve said and I nodded and palmed him through the pair of joggers. “I’m gonna fuck you raw. Fill you up and make you mine. Mark your walls with my cum. Nobody will ever touch you like this again. Only me.”

I felt dizzy at the idea of that and quickly tugged at his joggers. I had only just now realized that I had not given him any boxers earlier and felt the heat rise to my cheeks. I pulled his joggers down and watched as he springed out of his confines.

He pulled his joggers off the rest of the way and hovered over me with one hand near the side of my head and the other pumping his cock. He placed himself at my entrance and I nodded at him, signaling that he could begin easing in.

He slipped past my entrance with ease and pushed the rest of the way in. Pain twisted over my features, as it had been a while since I had fucked anybody. Especially somebody of his size. He gave me a moment to adjust and soon the pain turned into an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

I nodded and he thrusted in and out of me at an agonizingly slow pace. “Faster please, Stevie.” I said letting the nickname slip and begging for more. He complied and brought a hand around my neck and slammed into me at a quick and harsh place.

I felt him brush against my sweet spot and let out a loud moan. Steve noticed and angled himself where he brushed against it every time. “You’re so fucking tight. Squeezing me like that. I love the way you make me feel.”

I moaned and gripped his cock even tighter, feeling the heat pool in my stomach. “I’m so close. Please don't stop.” I begged out to him. He did anything but stop and set a much faster pace. “I’m close to. I’m going to cum in you. Fill you up so full. So good. Want you to go to sleep dripping.” I moaned out at the idea.

“C’mon baby doll, I'm so close. Just a little bit longer.” I nodded and he grunted signaling just how close he was. Steve nodded and as I felt him painting my walls with his cum it triggered my release. He helped us ride out our highs and stayed like that for a moment.

He rolled off of me and took in the moment. Giving out sweet praises to me about how good I was for him and how much he enjoyed himself. Once we both came back to reality, Steve looked over to me.

“I don't want this to be a one time thing. I want you. All of you. Anything you’ll give me. Anytime and anywhere. I love you and have for quite some time.” Steve confessed.

“I love you too, Stevie.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain America x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #avengers #avengers x reader

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thegeminisage · 3 years

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my secret galaxy brain reading of spn s11 is better than yours

or: why season 11 is good actually. this is a long-ass meta, so it's going behind the cut

some disclaimers before we get going

absolutely all of this is accidental. nobody does this shit on purpose. this is ~my interpretation~ or whatever. i'm not actually trying to argue the writers meant to do this lol. what i'm saying is that this is the way to make season 11 make sense in your brain because it makes sense in mine and it's one of my FAVORITES. it could be one of your favorites too if you stop limiting yourself

there is heavy discussion of sexual violence in this meta so read safely etc also spoilers for all of s11 obviously

unless you watched the anime, i've seen more supernatural than you have, so i'm right >:)

for the uninitiated, the basic plot of season 11 is that eons and eons ago, before there was heaven or hell or earth or humans or angels, there was only god (chuck) and the darkness (amara). amara kept destroying what god made, so he and the archangels locked her away in a cage, which removing the mark of cain from dean's arm opened. amara escaped and dean was the first thing she saw, so she spends the season using some kind of thrall over him to make him feel drawn to her and unable to hurt her, and also looking for chuck so she can give him a little payback.

ALRIGHT HERE WE GO

season 11 & sexual violence

you don't need to look very far to find examples of sexualized violence and outright sexual violence on supernatural, but s11 is lousy with it. just to name a few examples:

amara's "thrall" on dean, which we will absolutely get into more later

crowley's jokes about altar boys and the tastes of catholic priests

ALLLLL the pedophile jokes made when crowley was raising baby amara

angels torturing cas and threatening to cut his genitals off, only to send in hannah (an angel who formerly had unrequited romantic/sexual feelings for him) to play good cop(/honeypot??) in hopes of making him talk

the return of lucifer, who possessed sam (spn has a history of equating possession and sexual violence) and is heavily implied to have raped sam in hell, and the MULTIPLE times he menaces sam throughout this season, including forcibly touching his soul

lucifer possessing castiel and using him to enact violence on the winchesters, his loved ones

i absolutely REFUSE to acknowledge the lucifer/crowley stuff but if you know you know

the episode with the kissing curse, using "love" as a means to deliver death

dean's possession in the soul eater episode

the "chitters" monsters involving mating, orgies, and forcible impregnation

you get the idea

i could write a whole essay on almost all of these but for this post we'll be sticking mostly to dean & amara

@marcusantonius pointed out while we were watching season 11 that what amara does to dean is basically speedrun his two major attachments - sam and castiel. she starts out as a baby, someone in need of protection, and quickly grows into an adult who attempts to romance/seduce him. the feelings dean has around amara aren't feelings FOR HER, they're feelings he has for SAM AND CAS that are being TRANSFERRED onto her through means of her power. (this is important for later.)

what amara does to dean is sexualized violence bordering on outright sexual assault. compelling him to feel drawn towards her and to protect her, frequently getting in his personal space and touching his face, and even kissing more than once when he is quite literally unable to resist (it's stated many times that he is unable to kill or even harm her, so he is completely helpless in the presence of someone who makes no secret of her intentions for him, sexual or otherwise).

dean says many times that what he feels for amara is not love or desire or attraction. he can't put a name to it at all - not once in the entire series is he able to properly define this thrall she has over him, which leaves us the audience a little confused (amara asking "what IS happening between us?" in 11.06 as a teenager making sexual advances on a grown man does give me a good laugh, because it was written SO WEIRDLY)... BUT we know that it is definitely sexual in nature, and not at all something dean wants to be happening.

this is addressed kind of strangely in 11.13. the villain of the week is a witch moonlighting as a hairdresser, who puts a kissing curse on her clients. the curse must be passed along like a hot potato - if you kiss someone else, it's passed along to them. if they kiss someone else, it's passed along to them. but eventually, a monster called a qareen will show up in the form of "your deepest desire" and kill you, and work its way backwards to the original curse-ee. in the episode, dean kisses the vic (i'll point out this was also technically done w/o her consent, though it was a very businesslike kiss) to put the curse on himself and protect her. the qareen takes the form of amara, and she gives Dean this little speech:

Qareen!Amara: You're a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it's cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can’t help yourself, so why fight it? Just give in.

then, at the end of the episode, after dean reveals who the qareen was for him, we get this conversation between sam and dean:

Dean: You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest darkest desire? Sam: She isn't? Dean: No! She can’t be! Sam: Why not? Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I'm… Sam: Means you're what? Complicit? Weak? Evil? Dean: For starters, yeah. Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She's the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I'm not.

the "shame" part of both of these is really what stuck out to me - the word itself isn't in the second passage, but dean's vibes are absolutely filled with shame. to me, this always read as being shame about the sexual violence and about the complicity/weakness that "allowed" that violence to happen.

and as a reminder, sam is just a few episodes past the confrontation with his own rapist (he returns to the cage to speak with lucifer in 11.09 & 11.10, and canonically struggles with what happened there even after the confrontation ends). sam made a point earlier in this episode of making sure the victim of the curse knew it wasn't her fault her husband died, but the fault of the witch who cast the curse. sam is VERY emotionally intelligent, and i honestly believe that he was speaking as one survivor of sexual violence to another here. what he's telling dean is something victims often need to be reminded of: it's not your fault. you weren't complicit, or weak. you didn't have a choice. you don't deserve blame or judgment.

we've had bad guys make sexual threats at both dean and sam many times before this and a few more times after, but as far as i can recall, this is the only conversation in the entire series that even attempts to address the impact of that particular kind of violence on dean. it's short, and strangely written, but nonetheless: there it is.

season 11 & the dean in the closet

for the purposes of this post, i'm not going to go through the entire series and find examples to try and prove dean is bi and has feelings for cas. if you don't believe that then what are you doing here? we're skipping to the goods.

actually, i always got annoyed at people who read the fake-amara's speech in 11.13 (or any of the other times people spoke about dean's shame regarding amara) as being about dean's sexuality, because in my mind it was ABSOLUTELY about his being a victim of sexual violence, which was far more important to me, as it is discussed far less often.

BUT, knowing what we know now (that cas was always canonically in love with dean, and it's all but canon that dean really was bisexual), i'm willing to entertain another notion:

Sam: ...you're what? Complicit? Weak? Evil? Dean: For starters, yeah.

the "evil" bit never really sat right with me as part of the narrative of sexual violence, aside from touching on dean's general self-loathing, but it fits the narrative of being closeted MUCH better. dean, a self-hating homophobic bisexual, would probably use a similar word, if not something heavy as "evil," to describe the way he feels about other men. it's a malevolent feeling. (if you're like me and ascribe to the jackles headcanon that dean resorted to turning tricks to make food money when he was underage, we could also consider the extremely fucked up fact that almost every queer man dean's ever met is someone who hurt him.)

dean is ashamed of who and what he is, and the way he feels about cas. living like that, that's violence. he lives violently day in and day out with that feeling. (and amara knows it. it's worth nothing that she uses cas to communicate with dean MULTIPLE times in this season, both by carving messages on his body and psychically, through his own connection to dean - and when dean "betrays" her to rescue casifer, she's horrified at whatever she sees in his head.)

equating sexual violence to the violence of being closeted

but what's amazing about this weird badly-written little 11.13 conversation (and indeed, the season-long plotline of dean and his shame) is that we don't HAVE to assign it to the purposes of being about sexual violence OR about being closeted. it can be and IS both.

my favorite reading of this is that BEING IN THE CLOSET IS INHERENTLY A VIOLENT AND TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. many of the same feelings are involved: shame, guilt, self-loathing. sam's comforting words to dean - that he will not be blamed or judged - are equally applicable in both cases. dean is a victim of sexual violence, and he is also in the closet, and both of these experiences are traumatic ones, and they are intermingled with each other in a big way (again, if you're into dean-turned-tricks headcanon, they are intermingled INSEPERABLY - the sexual violence being one of the direct causes of dean not wanting to accept or address his own sexuality).

the bait-and-switch

the real galaxy brain moment of this whole thing begins at the end of 11.22 (an otherwise lackluster episode that played sam's lucifer trauma for laughs how dare they ugh god whatever that's off-topic but i HATE IT) when amara and chuck finally have the confrontation she's been fighting all season for. she is attacked by witches, demons, angels, and then stabbed by lucifer himself, before she's finally on her knees before chuck, and then we get this little exchange:

Chuck: I'm sorry. For this, for everything. Amara: An apology at last. What's sorry to me? I spent millions of years crammed into that cage alone and afraid...

maybe you already know where i'm going with this. a cage isn't so different from a closet when we're working with metaphors, right?

amara talks about her grievances with chuck many times throughout season 11 - that he was spoiled, that he created the earth to stroke his ego, that he couldn't handle her as she was. and once he finally makes his appearance he tells it his own way - that he had no choice but to lock amara away, that she couldn't stand the things and people he made, that he did it to protect people. but something about THIS conversation in particular - even though it's not written into the dialogue - gives me a particular kind of vibe.

there is something innately, unspeakably WRONG with amara. i don't mean unspeakable as in very bad, i mean unspeakable as in LITERALLY undefinable. it's just like dean being unable to put a name to the pull she has over him. no one talks directly at it or about it, they go in circles around it, but facts are facts: amara simply couldn't be allowed to exist as she was because there was just something innately wrong with her. and it's this conversation in particular, the first one they have together onscreen, that really slams that feeling home for me.

the entire time chuck and amara are talking, the camera repeatedly cuts to dean - he is so visibly upset that the first time i watched this, i was certain he was about to jump into the middle of things and put himself between the two of them. we're meant to believe that dean has trouble hearing this because he "cares" about amara, but i have a different take.

i think it's empathy. real, actual empathy - not the kind of feeling that amara had to force out.

stay with me here. eventually, after chuck tries to lock amara away again, she gets her second wind, attacks him, and leaves him for dead - and as he dies, the sun dies with him, and so too does all life on earth.

in the following episode, the finale, amara finds her way to a park, where she takes in god's creation, visibly upset as she realizes that his flowers die at her touch (again, hammering home the point that there is something innately wrong with her that means she cannot live in this world), and eventually speaks with an old lady feeding the birds.

Woman: Do you want to feed them? Amara: I shouldn't. Woman: I've been feeding these birds going on 20 years now. They're practically family. And I know that makes me sound like a crazy old bat, but...heck. My husband died a couple of years ago, and my son keeps slipping me these brochures for retirement communities - a.k.a. where they send old folks to die, but not to make a fuss about it. Amara: So you hate him. Woman: Well, a little bit. Sometimes. But you know family. Even when you hate them, you still love them.

this speech brings tears to amara's eyes. what's more, she spends this entire section with her hands in her lap. after a season of killing her way through humanity to get god's attention, she is afraid to touch these birds for fear of killing them. she feels empathy for them. she and dean are connected, after all - so as soon as he began to feel true, genuine empathy - so did she.

when dean shows up to kill amara (via a bomb made out of souls hidden in his chest), she immediately clocks his plan. she practically dares him to do it, and - he can't. he is, as always, helpless against her.

what dean does instead is talk to her. more importantly, he listens to her. when she says her brother sent dean here to execute her, he tells her chuck actually didn't want this - that it was actually his very last resort. he asks her if this, the death of everything, is what she wanted, and she tells him all she really wanted was payback. again, dean EMPATHIZES:

Dean: Yeah, that's revenge. It'll get you out of bed in the morning, and when you get it, it feels great... for about five minutes. I've been there. Me and Sam, we have had our fair share of fights—more than our share. But no matter how bad it got, we always made it right because we're family. I need him. He needs me. And when everything goes to crap, that's all you've got—family. Now you might be a—an all-powerful being...but I think you're human where it counts. You simply need your brother.

what's really neat about this section, and the scene before it where amara confronts her brother, is that they mark the first times dean felt any sort of genuine emotion for amara at all - one that she didn't force out of him or one that he felt for someone else that she just took for herself. dean genuinely EMPATHIZES with her - after everything she's done to him and his loved ones, and to the people on earth, dean sees the humanity in her. that's kind of his and sam's M.O., loving monsters into men - the number of non-human adversaries who eventually became allies because of the winchesters’ empathy or liking for them or even just their influence is staggering. cas, gabriel, meg, benny, crowley, rowena, metatron, to name a few off the top of my head - and now amara.

and then we get THIS:

Dean: You don't want to be alone. Not really. I mean, hell. Maybe that's why you wanted me. But deep down, you didn't really want me... 'cause I'm not him.

(emphasis mine)

and here's my galaxy brain take: dean empathizes with amara - TRULY empathizes with her - because they're both queer (or queer-coded).

I KNOW THIS SOUNDS NUTS BUT LISTEN. this weird creepy stalkery hetero "romance" was fake on both sides all along. dean and amara are the same. that unspeakable and innate wrongness lives in both of them. they're self-loathing and furious at god for his failures and callousness, outcasts in a world that isn't for them, a world that has HURT them simply on account of them being what they are. the violence done to amara was done to her BECAUSE of this unspeakable wrongness about her - her queerness, or her queer-codedness - and we already decided this was, for the purposes of this season, functionally the same violating and traumatic experience as sexual violence.

amara's been using dean to try and replace chuck this entire season. it's some weird comphet bullshit tied in with the fact that dean was the first part of chuck's creation she ever saw. it stands to reason then that she was trying to force dean to be with her and love her the way she wanted to force CHUCK to be with her. that's part of why she started life as a baby - as someone he'd protect as he did his own sibling.

so in some weird, warped, very roundabout way, amara was enacting on dean the violence that chuck enacted on her - making him feel the same shame and weakness that chuck made HER feel when he locked her away eons ago. if amara unknowingly replaced chuck with dean, then she also unknowingly took part of her revenge on him. the only way she knew how to love someone was to force them to do it, because the only ways she had ever been loved until now involved violence - until dean and his moment of genuine empathy.

consider this final speech:

Dean: Maybe I can kill you. Or maybe I can't. Maybe if I pull this trigger, we all live happily ever after, or maybe we die bloody, or maybe it doesn't matter, because maybe there's a different way. So I'm gonna ask you again. Put aside the rage. Put aside the hate. And you tell me...what do you want?

dean is the only person in BILLIONS of years to ask her this! one queer to another! and it turns out that and all she wanted - the ONLY thing she needed - was to be understood and accepted by her family. immediately after this, amara summons chuck to their park, and the two of them talk it out in what is genuinely a very moving scene. amara - perhaps because of her connection with dean, perhaps because she's finally admitted to herself that she does still love her brother - sees the beauty in the world now, and feels love for it, and she doesn't want to destroy it anymore.

and at the end, after she's made her peace with god, and the sun has been turned back on, amara says:

Amara: Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.

and what do we get at the end of this episode? mary winchester, risen from her grave. dean's family. and - SPOILERS FOR SEASON 12 - though at first mary rejects dean (and sam) as being the same children she remembers from 1983, after a long and rocky road, at the end of the season, they eventually come to a reconciliation where she sees them for who they truly are. it's never ABOUT being queer because this show uses the fucking hays code when it comes to dean's sexuality, but it's still about being queer!!

dean gave amara what she needed - acceptance from her family - and she gave him that back in turn. all it took, the entire time, was one SHRED of empathy from one queer to another. all dean had to do was recognize her - REALLY recognize her - not as a replacement for sam or cas but as who she really was. and he saw himself in her, and the empathy that followed was genuine because it was the most natural thing in the world. in the end neither dean nor amara needed the "romance" they thought they did/were forced to want. they never did. they only needed acceptance and understanding.

supernatural is always about family and the power of love, and this season is no exception.

other great parts of season 11

if you're still not convinced, season 11 is full of other things that make it amazing:

GOD'S RETURN. after SIX YEARS he's back, this is canon, we finally get to hear what he has to say. they did more with him in a handful of episodes in this season than all of season 15

also, something else returns after six years. i'll give you a hint: it glows hot in god's presence. it was last seen being dropped into a motel trash can.

and of course the big one: lucifer and sam. what great callbacks to seasons 4-6 when lucifer and what he did to sam in hell was actually scary and mattered a lot! lucifer returns to being scary in this and i can't get enough of it.

this is also inseparable from sam's arc involving his faith - he begins praying again, having visions again, and is GUTTED when those prayers and visions lead him back to the place of his worst trauma. he gets to MEET GOD this season. it's fucking insane

the inherent melodrama of castiel, someone loved and trusted by the winchesters, being possessed by someone who they hate and who has hurt them. you get all of the sam drama with him accidentally trusting lucifer with his soul and his brother's life, and all the dean drama where he watches the devil run around in his boyfriend. also, misha collins does an uncanny impression of mark pellegrino. it's actually really creepy

somehow, they managed to make metatron, a deeply hated villain by all, ACTUALLY LIKEABLE. for TWO whole episodes. it was NUTS

this season starts off rowena's long arc with lucifer and her lucifer trauma that eventually becomes the catalyst of her bonding so profoundly with sam <3 best friends forever <333

sam and dean bond with a pair of canonically gay hunters who DON'T DIE

billie is introduced in this season and she's super hot and cool and awesome

eileen is also introduced in this season. her arc mirrors sam's so well, it's SO good. i never though i'd care about sam and a girl who wasn't jess, but i care about them SO MUCH it makes me insane. if you don't love eileen you're wrong!

anyway, watch season 11. it's weird but it's really fucking good. THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK

[spn masterpost]

#supernatural #dean winchester #amara #supernatural meta #destiel #in a roundabout way #i needed a 5th tracked tag lol #i stayed up ALL NIGHT writing this but im gonna be a smartie and schedule it to go up at noon when ppl are awake #liz watches spn #liz's meta #liz's spn stuff #liz makes stuff #long post #just in case the cut fails #this meta really is 3800 words long lol #as a bonus it was implied in late season 10 that amara is the older sibling #even though they retconned it and made them twins later #like amara and dean are both eldest sisters.......

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everlesslahote1 · 3 years

Text

‘LET ME GO PLEASE!” (Seth Clearwater) -Requested -

J“Can you do a Seth one. His imprint is attacked (maybe he try’s to sexually assault her/or does) by a man when she’s walking home one night. Paul Jared and Sam were in the woods as wolfs and come rescue her. They bring her back to Sam and Emily’s and call Seth. Lots of caring protective angry Seth. The pack have to calm him down and stop him from doing anything. He ends up scaring his imprint because he’s so angry. Soft moment at the end when Seth says sorry and lots of hugs and kisses”

-No problem love❤.

Seth Clearwater x Fem!Reader

(warning: Near sexual assault)

- Enjoy!

“Bye guy’s see you later” Y/n said leaving her friends house from working on a school project as she disappeared into the dark woods she tends to take home.

She knew wolfs were on patrol in the area so she didn’t think twice on her way into woods, she knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

After all she did see them as family and knew they felt the same way as she gets told everyday.

As Y/N walked the wood something just didn’t feel right but she always took this way back home so what’s wrong now?

Was it that it was darker then when she would usually take the woods home? she just shrugged it off.

She was deep in her thoughts until she heard a stick break behind her which caused she to turn fast but to see nothing.

“maybe I’m just tired, that’s all” she said to herself not wanting to get scared of maybe a little animal in the night.

Just as she started to walk again she felt her mouth being covered and her small figure being dragged to be pushed into a tree.

She started to scream and kick as the strong figure starts to unbutton the shirt she took from Seth the night before.

“LET ME GO PLEASE!” she screamed and kicked with tears streaming down her face.

“Your a fighter, I like you” the man said in her ear harshly before throwing her down making her hit her head on a bolder hard.

She took her shaky hand and touched the top left corner of her head to only see blood on her hand.

She soon left her world turning and her vision blurring due to her being in shock.

Y/N struggled to back away from the man and keep conscience but all she heard was his sick words leave his mouth in a blur.

Almost as if she was being pulled into the deep end of a pool and couldn’t keep her head above water.

Only as she felt her button down come off completely and the chilly air hit her bare arms so when she blacked out.

-Wolf’s Pov-

“LET ME GO PLEASE!” Sam heard making his head shoot up to the direction of the voice he knew all to well.

Jared’s Wolf soon became visible from tree’s with Paul’s wolf next to him as they looked at their alpha for the next order’s.

‘was that Y/N?’

‘No shit’

‘Get to her, Now!’ Sam thought as him and his Beta’s ran to where they heard Y/n’s screams and cries for help only to find her unconscious with blood dripping down her face, no shirt and a older man standing over her.

Jared growled as the man started to unbutton Y/N’s pants, catching the man’s attention.

The man couldn’t believe what he was seeing in front of him, he didn’t know if it was the count of beer’s he had took back to back early or if it was reality.

3 wolfs... a Black one, a dark grey one, and a chocolate brown one.

All that stood over 6 foot looked at him like he were their next meal which he didn’t want to be.

‘He’s Human, I cant hurt him’ Paul thought as he inched closer to Y/N but keeping his eye’s on the man.

In all honesty if Sam wasn’t there and it was just him and Jared he wouldn’t have thought twice on attacking the man who dared hurt his little sister.

She was to good to have anything bad happen to her, she kind, giving, smart, funny. Everything about her gave the pack a little sister vibe.

Even before she knew about the imprint and wolfs, she would always walk up to Embry and Jared in school just to crack jokes and make them laugh so everybody wouldn’t think they were sum killer ‘gang’.

Jared and Sam soon started to chase the man off so that Paul could shift and take the small girl to Emily’s house.

As Paul pulled his short’s over his hip’s he made his way back to Y/N before gently taking her in his arm feeling her cold skin.

“I Gotcha smalls” he spoke as if she could hear him.

Paul Jogged all the way to Emily’s before walking into a worried Emily as he laid Y/n on the couch before looking to his own imprint, Rachel.

Soon enough, Jared and Sam came through the door with the rest of the pack long side them to find a puzzled Emily and Rachel , a quiet Paul, and a passed out y/n.

After awhile of silence Sam took this time to settle on what to do.

“Call Seth”

-Y/N Pov-

Y/N slowly gained conscience only to hear Seth’s voice screaming at the top of his lung’s.

She looked down to her clothes to find she’s in a jacket and and sweat’s, she slowly reaches to corner of her head where she felt pain shoot to only feel cloth.

She was now in a bed that was in Sam and Emily’s guest room.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LET HIM GO!” Seth screamed which made Y/N flinch, she as never seen Seth mad or even heard him yell in anger.

Seth was always happy or at least holding a smile even in a bad case he would be the one to bring a smile to her face.

Anyone’s at that matter...

“He was human you know the rules-”

“I COULD CARE LESS ABOUT ANY DAMN RULES WHEN IT COMES TO HER, WHAT IF IT WAS EMLY?” Seth responded to Sam.

Sam understood the young boys anger, he knew his skin felt like burning metal, Sam wanted to react the same way when they found Y/N shirtless in front of a sick intoxicated being but held it together.

“S-seth” Y/N finally spoke in a horse voice catching the angry boy and everyone’s attention almost instantly.

Seth walked to the Y/H/C girl’s side in 3 long strides before sitting in the chair next to the bed she was laying on.

“Hey Bean, you ok?” He said calling her by the nickname he gave her because he knows she didn’t and wouldn’t eat beans even if her pet goldfish’s life was on the line.

and she loved Goldie like a son.

“I'm fine but y-you have to calm down, he’ll get what’s coming for him one day” She said grabbing her lovers hand hoping he wouldn’t yell anymore because it made the headache she had 10 times worst.

This infuriated Seth, How could she be so calm and humble at a time like this? After what just happened to her? Even after that man left her for dead when three over man sized wolfs showed up?

What if it wasn’t the pack? What if it was that red head leach they have yet to catch? She would be dead.

And that’s all Seth could think about... She could have died... and he wasn’t there save her...

“calm down!? YOU WERE NEARLY RAPED AND I HAVE TO CALM DOWN!?!” he said shooting up from his seat next to her now towering over her.

She flinched as if his voice was like a hammer on her head that just kept on banging, as if it was the last thing she would hear before she passed out.

He saw affect he had on his imprint with his voice and it slapped him like his mom did when she told him to do the dishes but he had a smart come back.

Seth took his spot back next to Y/N and grabbed her hand again now calming him self.

“I’m sorry” he said put his head down while keeping hold of Y/N’s small hand.

“Im so sorry Bean, but what if they wouldn’t have got there in time- its my fault... I shouldn’t have let-”

“Hey... its not your fault, come here” she said opening her arms to the scared boy.

As Seth climbed in the arms of his lover gently so he wouldn’t cause any aches in her sore body, Emily gave everyone a look that said ‘give them time’ and everyone shifted to the living room.

Seth rested his head of Y/N chest before taking a deep breath, taking in her scent, a scent he would miss if he lost her.

He waited a few mins before speaking...

“I’m sorry for yelling” he said looking at her.

she just gently kissed his head and played with the hair’s on the back of his neck making him relax his tense body on her.

“I understand my love” she said closing her eyes as they lay there in silence, loving one another’s presents and letting the stress slip away.

Bonus

“you do know I’m going to make you apologize to Sam right” Y/N said with her eyes still closed.

Seth huffed playful before he spoke.

“Of course you are bean” he said before planting a soft kiss on her lips that she gladly returned.

“I love you”

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vidavalor · 3 years

Text

Bucky flirting with Sam as part of the changing times theme in Ep 5...

This is on the long side. Contains brief mention of the show basically canonizing Bucky as a sexual assault survivor. It’s meta on Bucky and Sam’s identity themes and how the show is shifting into a theme of changing times with the latest episodes-- mostly about how Bucky’s journey is paralleling Sam’s, even while being a different kind of journey.

One of the more interesting subtle themes of Ep 5 is that while we have had a lot of emphasis in the earlier episodes on how much horror still exists in America-- and a very right, necessary emphasis-- as the show begins to pivot towards the part of Sam’s journey that involves him deciding to become Captain America, they are pivoting a bit to illustrate that as much as many things have, unfortunately, not changed the way they should have over time, a lot really has. (Also, the Sam-as-Captain-America thing isn’t meant to be a spoiler as I don’t really totally know if that’s the ending, it just seems um... really the only place this story is going...) They have been using Isaiah to illustrate this point for Sam quite a bit in Ep 5, especially. The core conflict comes from Isaiah believing that a self-respecting Black man wouldn’t want to fight for America after the horrors that have been done to Black people in its history, which is not something that Sam ultimately feels is true. He definitely feels the pain of Black history in America but he still believes *in* America and views it as his country and is accepting that everyone in it really has a role to play in making it live up to the ideals it espouses but has still yet to achieve. In deciding to appreciate Isaiah choosing to open up to him and share his story but respectfully disagree with him on what to do next-- and to have his ability to make this choice reinforced by Sarah supporting him by saying she knows he will choose to fight in the fights he believes in and she has his back-- Sam is choosing to become a symbol of something, even if he’s just a man, and he’s affirming to himself that it is okay for him to believe in this thing he believes in. It’s okay for him to believe in America and love America and what it stands for, even in all its extremely imperfect glory, because he can be the change he wants to see in the world. He knows there are many people who will support him in that and that it only happens if we make it happen and that America, in all its imperfection, has made a lot of positive change happen throughout its short history.

You know who else is enjoying similar truths in the same episode? Bucky.

Bucky arrives in Delacroix all “Hello, 21st Century! I’ve always wanted to flirt with a man in public! I will be over here, lifting heavy stuff and getting in the personal space of your next Captain America, Good People of Delacroix, Louisiana!” What’s so endearing about this is not even just that this is clearly the first time that Bucky has felt like he has some control over his own mind, after proving he can manage The Winter Soldier in him a bit in the last few episodes, but that he’s working towards this kind of peace in a time where he really no longer has to hide any part of himself. Long before The Winter Soldier, Bucky was so the guy with a girl on each arm and a guy in the dark of the back alley. He has never, in his entire century-plus of living, been able to really be who he is without fear. It’s not as if there is not any fear left for LGBTQIA people in the world because, sadly, of course there is but loving Sam would have gotten Bucky arrested twice over in the 1940s. Interracial marriage was illegal until the Loving Act of 1967-- and that was still just for heterosexual couples. Obviously, same-sex marriage wasn’t legalized in the U.S. until 2015. If Bucky had been caught with a man in his youth, let alone a Black man, they both would have been arrested. Even if they were let go (and Bucky would have been more likely to suffer less, on account of being white), their reputations and ability to work and serve in the military could have been impacted.

The show toys with this with Bucky’s interest in exploring it, even through the haze of a lot of severe trauma, back in Episode 1. While he’s mainly eating at the sushi bar because he’s befriended Yori on account of his amends project, he is living in a very modern existence by regularly conversing with these two. Consider that the show chose to make both of them Japanese, basically to illustrate that Bucky, in a sense, was always progressive for his time period. Bucky *could* have been the kind of WW2 soldier who forever saw people of the countries the Allies fought against as an enemy-- your grandfathers and great-grandfathers who never stopped hating the Japanese. But he’s not. He actually comes off as someone whose inability to fit the mode of the heterosexual white American guy in his own time period lent him a lot of empathy towards others and I might be wrong about this because I can’t quite recall at the moment but wasn’t he drafted, as opposed to enlisted? It’s doubtful he even really wanted to fight, although he’s always up for a fight against a bully and clearly hated the Nazis (but wanting to fight fascism makes you far from intolerant.) My point is that Bucky, back in Ep 1, is already experimenting with how living in the 21st century could be a positive thing for him in a life he might want to make for himself, if he can get through his trauma enough to do so.

He eats lunch on the regular with a man who is, in all likelihood, descended somewhere from at least one person who fought on the enemy side to Bucky in WW2. He regularly chats with Leah, who is completely unlike anyone he would have been able to talk to in the 1940s and seems almost designed to be *exactly* that intentionally-- she is a woman with a job that wasn’t like a nurse or a teacher or Peggy Carter lol. She tends bar, a job that was virtually exclusively male in the ‘40s. She has open visible tattoos and is probably putting herself through college-- something that women were just being able to attend, usually in female-only settings. She makes her own money and lives as a single woman, likely without the express intention on getting married and having a family relatively soon. (There’s nothing wrong with any of that. It’s more just that it would have been the exception, rather than the norm, in Bucky’s youth.) Atop that, she is Asian and works in a Japanese restaurant-- the ultimate business that would have suffered during the ‘40s as America didn’t exactly do right by its Japanese-Americans during the war and if Bucky, a white soldier, had been seen with a Japanese girl, it would have been bad for him but worse for her.

So the reason why Yori has noticed that Bucky always looks at Leah when they eat lunch is probably less about the attraction Yori assumed Bucky had for her and more that Leah is this personal fascination for Bucky-- a human being who is basically the total embodiment of everything that has changed in the world since Bucky was last freely a part of it. Yori assumes Bucky wants a date but Bucky really wants what he ultimately got out of it, which is more just to talk to her a bit.

They also play Battleship, which is kind of darkly funny. The game originated after WW1 and used to be played on paper. It soared into popularity in the 1930s and has never stopped being popular ever since-- so, in essence, the game they play is the one part of this that, like Bucky, has been in existence the whole time. It has taken on different forms, though. It became a plastic board game in the ‘60s and has been modernized a few times but it’s still here. (It’s also funny that Bucky is kind of losing the game with her, symbolizing that he’s not entirely figured out this whole modern world yet, even if he’s very interested by it.)

But the big thing is that Bucky is beginning to edge away from just observing this new world and trying to decide how he wants to participate in it. He’s basically decided that he might like to and while his heart is completely with Sam, he’s also afraid of himself and his ability to potentially destroy that one really strong wish he has to be with him, so he’s pushing him away by not answering his texts. He’s likely also, atop insecurity in himself, literally terrified at the idea of hurting Sam not just physically-- through some nightmare or some untapped Winter Soldier potential or failing to protect him-- but through the fact that he’s a guy from the 1940s who has literally never openly dated a man, had Black friends during the war but that was decades ago and is not really sure how to do this.

Forced into a date with Leah, he experiments with the modern world in a way because he’s here because sure, he likes her and all but he was more just interested in her world than her personally and he just didn’t want to disappoint either her or Yori, so he showed up. She seems fairly trustworthy (and he trusts no one but Sam and Yori, so that’s a start) but what he wants really is to say aloud to someone for the first time that he likes men. To see how that goes in this modern era. (Depending on how you take Bucky and Steve, he could have put this into words to Steve at one point, likely way back when, but it’s also possible that they both just knew and didn’t talk about it. Either way, you didn’t go around telling people you didn’t trust in the ‘40s and it’s doubtful that he’s ever just said it to anyone and for sure not on a regular basis.)

He even knows that this wouldn’t be a deal breaker for a woman, necessarily, in the modern era, which is probably blowing his mind a bit because you would have been hard-pressed to find a woman who would admit to someone she didn’t implicitly trust that back in the ‘40s and it wouldn’t have been so open and accepted. What he really wants in Leah is a new friend and she seems to sense that-- she likes this weird guy with the circulation problem that is nice enough to lunch with the old man at her restaurant, he seems okay enough, if broody and sad, so why not talk to him for a bit? She totally thinks he’s just a closet case (she’s not wrong lol) and won’t really be crushed by him rushing out of the date beyond like “too bad, he was pretty hot” but for Bucky, this is the likely the first time he’s ever casually chatted with another human being about his attempt at finding a guy he likes.

It’s actually really sweet in that he’s still sort of coding it a bit, if not that much. He’s still a bit nervous about this so he’s saying tiger pictures to reference men so he can say it without saying it. Leah gets it and just kind of rolls with it and probably has zero idea how big a deal it was for the century-old guy sitting at the bar.

He might have been intentionally dramatic a bit about how it was all “a lot” but he was also telling her the truth-- he did a little exploring online. Found some men. It looked like a lot of work to stroke all these egos. Bucky’s for the modern world but he’s kind of into more old-fashioned guys. He’s got a warm-hearted soldier kink. Family man kind of guys with generous spirits. He’s considering online stuff because he’s also a guy who has been through an absurd amount of trauma-- some of which the show will just come out and say involves sexual assault, off that Selby scene-- and he’s probably considering trying to get beyond some of it by just having sex with somebody. It’s not at all an uncommon response for people who have been raped to try to get beyond it by just having sex again and you know this is yet another level of anxiety for him when it comes to the idea of having another chance at life. He’s nervous around himself at this point and doesn’t fully trust himself, so he’s not sure how he can trust other people and the one guy he *does* trust and *does* want? Bucky has that whole ‘don’t want to burden him with my own issues’ thing happening. (That’s not a bad thing when it’s a situation of expecting your partner to be your therapist, which shouldn’t happen but Bucky would and should have expectations that someone he’d have as a romantic partner can be someone he can trust to care about him and be sensitive to how his past plays into his present needs, in and out of bed.) He’d trust Sam with this but he also wants to be like... he basically feels like he met the potential love of his life while trying to kill him and just got his mind back and the timing is all wrong. It’s a lot of ‘too broken for Sam’ self-narrative.

Whether or not Bucky actually went beyond scrolling and being astounded at the unattractive insecurity of tiger pictures or whether he hooked up a time or two, it’s clear he didn’t get what he needed out of it and he gave up on it, admitting to himself that he’s really basically a tired old romantic who wants love and trust and the whole dance of things and that kind of intimacy more than the back alley casualness of online dating. This is about as far as Bucky has gotten while trying to deal with his trauma while having a truly terrible therapist: he likes sushi now and would like to have his life’s first real chance at an open, mutual, loving, romantic relationship. He just didn’t know how to get himself there.

John Walker and the shield issues actually, ironically, gave him scenarios where he could, through actions that suited him better than those his therapist had assigned. He needed to learn not to not hurt anyone but how to manage it when he did. He needed to learn how to be a soldier that protects people again, not the Winter Soldier, and that he can control that part of himself. He needed the opportunity to show Sam that he really does care, he’s just a grieving mess of a man working through being so out of time and secretly scared that he might like this time better, might have a chance at being who he is for the first time, and he doesn’t know quite what to do with that. He lets Sam in enough that they can show one another that they understand each other’s traumas. He tosses himself out of a plane for Sam in the first episode to prove he’ll follow him anywhere, that he’s strong and will survive and come back, knowing about Riley not being alive when he hit that ground. Sam responds by seeing Bucky essentially frozen in a PTSD moment of the train car on the side of that truck and grabs him out of danger. They snark and bicker but the actions speak louder than the words-- there’s caring there and want and a sense that they’re a bit gone on the other.

Sam’s trust in Bucky-- even as Bucky is still learning how to trust himself with himself-- gives Bucky a confidence boost that he was missing when he pulled away from Sam out of fear of hurting him. The whole White Panther/White Wolf scene? Sam expected Bucky to grumble or blush, he was for sure flirting with him but didn’t expect quite that amount of flirt back. Without realizing it, he had hit on the exact part of Bucky’s identity that was giving him the biggest boost, that he understood the best at that time-- the White Wolf. The White Wolf is the freed Winter Soldier, a peaceful tender of goats, a wounded warrior beloved by a community who rescued him. He represents Bucky’s recent past into his present-- being able to work for the chance to shake loose the Winter Soldier and evolve into a different version of himself. He wanted to impress Sam with that-- he saw Sam’s flirting and parried back, which he didn’t always do, because he knew it would be impressive that the Wakandans had given him a (pretty sexy actually) nickname. He’s boosted by Sam still flirting, Sam still caring, still seeing something in him he’s working on seeing himself. He has some hope, even as they fight, because his attempts at getting closer to Sam are not being rejected wholesale and Sam keeps reaching out to him, often literally. After Madripoor and after Bucky going after and finding Zemo, he feels more ready. He’s more in control of himself. He thinks he has a path to getting beyond the worst of this stuff and he might not have worked out all the details yet or figured out what it looks like but he finally feels ready to try and since Sam hasn’t rejected him, he’s going to take Yori’s advice, just with the right person and stop waiting around, stop just looking and make a move.

In a way, Sam is introduced to 1940s Bucky for the first time in Delacroix-- this is the guy he saw glimpses of but was pretty deeply buried. He’s not reverted back to the Bucky of old as how could he, after all he’s been through? But this is the flirt, the natural charmer and he’s been set free for real for the first time, without worry or fear that he can’t live a life he wants and be the person he truly is without fear of rejection of who he loves, his family and the community at large. He likes this place that is the exact opposite of everything he’s suffered-- it’s so warm, he’ll never feel frozen again, physically or emotionally. The people here don’t care about his arm or who he loves, Sam’s family has Sam’s big, warm heart and Sam? Well, Bucky’s enjoying making him a little flustered. You like that stealthy White Wolf, Sam? Well, he’s got his eyes on you. ;)

Maybe the best part of this being the parallel to Sam’s decisions about how he wants to identify when it comes to him deciding to take up the shield is that it relates to a sense of freedom that is at the core of both of Sam and Bucky’s stories and is the whole point of Captain America and how it is supposed to symbolize a fight against fascism. Bucky has been told twice in the series that he’s “free” and each were, in a sense, a bit true. Ayo tells him this when he’s free from mind control and that is a major move forward for him-- life-altering-- but he’s not free from the trauma of it. Dr. Raynor tells Bucky that he’s free now and can build whatever life he wants but we see on Bucky’s face how those statements for him, in those early episodes in New York, really are conflicting ones-- he is free from mind control but still imprisoned in his trauma and that is what is keeping him from making the life he wants. Over the course of TFATWS, alongside Sam’s journey to decide how he wants to feel about America as a Black man and what he feels he owes to the country and the country owes to him, is the story of Bucky having to build his own identity as well. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier is ultimately what these guys were-- the identities they still have at the beginning of the show. They’re going to end it Sam and Bucky, Captain America and the White Wolf. Bucky’s real sense of freedom only came when he realized he could trust himself to decide how he wanted to live, when he proved that to himself and took control over it. He’s still not completely fine-- no one really is, ever-- but he has a path now. Sam and Bucky have different identity conflicts but ultimately, at the core, their struggles with them and with what their country has asked of them and with how they want to live and what they want for themselves, is very similar and the core of a lot of why they understand one another well.

It wouldn’t surprise me if we find out that Bucky stopped answering Sam’s texts when Sam suggested he come to Delacroix. Bucky knew about the boat when he got there, the same way that Sam knew about Bucky’s nightmares, so these two were talking a lot, they were friends on a verge of more but both knowing they each had too many struggles to overcome first and I think that Sam had to have been trying to reach out and accidentally went too far. It’s kind of like in the therapy session-- most of the time, Sam is amazing at dealing with people who have been through trauma but he sometimes falls off his game with Bucky. The whole “this is what you wanted, right?” in the therapy session is frustration, it’s pushing a little too hard, it’s snarking over feeling like Bucky rejected him romantically, even if Sam understands why and probably wasn’t convinced they were ready for it anyway. It’s possible that Sam thought inviting Bucky home with him would be good for him-- and the sun and the Wilsons would have been-- but, at the time, it just made Bucky panic, which is then also why Sam just rolls over the fact that Bucky hadn’t been returning his texts when they see one another again. Sam kept reaching out to check on him but accepted the non-response because he felt like he might have kind of pushed Bucky too fast. They both know they both have feelings for one another but are scared by how much the other has to get through to get to that point and feel ill-equipped to really help one another, often blunder in their attempts to (and other times, get it just right.)

So, yeah. There’s still no shortage of conflicts to be dealt with but alongside Sam finding his path to living his truth in this modern world has been Bucky’s arc from daring to whisper about tiger photos to showing up to show off his prowess with heavy stuff and tools to win over his boyfriend in front of his family and hometown. It’s not subtext. It’s literally Bucky’s identity-themed character arc, existing in parallel to Sam’s. Just because they aren’t giving it a ton of labels does not mean that it isn’t the intent of the story.

#sambucky #buckysam #bucky barnes #bucky #sam wilson #tfatws

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goneseriesanalysis · 3 years

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Subversion of Tropes

Spoiler warning for Fear, Lies and Plague down below

TW: mentions of s@xual @ssault and r@pe

In my recent post, Misogyny in Gone, I pointed out numerous instances in the series where misogynistic tropes are present, and how that affects the narrative of the story. The women often seem to be underdeveloped, sexualised and demonised for choices and characteristics that their male counterparts make and have with no consequence. Of course this is not true for every female character, and it is certainly not present all the time, but it still has a huge impact on the story. There is one scene in particular though, that seems to subvert these tropes and I wanted to talk about it as I think it is both a really important aspect of the story and introduces us to a fascinating power dynamic, that I really wish mg had developed further.

The interplay between sex and violence is a theme that is heavily prevalent in Plague and is present in both Lies and Fear. It shows up in many different forms throughout the series and presents itself in multiple ways such as: Caine and Diana’s relationship, Astrid and Orc’s Scene in Plague and Drake with pretty much every attractive woman he comes across. This is a theme that mg writes particularly well – Astrid and Orc’s scene in Plague (with a small cameo from Drake) is one of the best written examples of this trope I have ever read. However, for me personally, this scene is marginally outdone by another example of this trope that occurs in Fear – that being Caine’s cementing.

Not only does this scene have the cathartic tint of revenge to it, but it also subverts this trope in that it is the woman who is the perpetrator and the man (boy) who is the victim. When I first read Fear, nothing about this scene seemed even remotely sexual to me (because I was a child and unless it was outright stated I was never going to pick up on it.) But, when I re-read the scene a few days ago in preparation for my misogyny in gone post, I noticed how reminiscent Penny’s takedown of Caine is to the way women typically experience sexual violence (both in media and real life.)

So the scene starts out with Caine turning up to Penny’s house to discuss the situation with Cigar. Great. Fast forward a bit and we get to Penny outright telling Caine that she has a crush on him….and him outright rejecting her. Instead of accepting this, she pushes, telling him that she could be anyone in his imagination. He rejects her again. And she does not take that well. While she doesn’t show it on the outside, we as a reader get to see her internal monologue, where she has an extremely inappropriate reaction to his rejection. It is clear from this that she feels entitled to his affection, despite him never giving any indication that her feelings were reciprocated. Penny seems to believe that Caine has falsely led her on, but we as a reader know that he has rejected any and all advances that she has made and has not ever, in canon, used her crush to manipulate her. (Before I continue I want to make it clear that I am by no means saying that Caine is innocent. Penny has every right to be angry with him for a multitude of other reasons. But her reasoning here is misguided.) So the first question that this brings to mind is: Would Penny have continued with the cementing if Caine had welcomed her advances?? I think mg left this purposely ambiguous. But I like (and I use this word very loosely) the idea that she wouldn’t have. The trope of a woman having to cater to the desires of a man in order to avoid violence is one that is common in all types of media, and is one that we see throughout Gone as well. The best examples being Astrid with Sam and, of course, Diana with Caine. Both of these women are forced to conform to what Sam and Caine want them to be in order to be safe in the FAYZ, and so mg flipping the switch on this and having Caine’s inability to capitulate Penny’s desires being the final straw to his downfall (even if he was unaware of this fact) is an amazing touch.

This theme is then continued in the way that Penny takes Caine down…by drugging him and incapacitating him. Now, these are occurrences that are usually associated with date r@pe, which is something that is mostly experienced by women. Of course, this is not what actually happened in the book, but the association is there for a reason, I’m sure. Given Penny’s attraction to Caine, her take-down of him is inherently sexual in both its execution and come about. Her extreme reaction to his refusal is probably a result of her less-than-ideal childhood. We are told than Penny’s father used to take inappropriate pictures of her older, but still under-aged sister. When her sister became of age, Penny assumed that her father would move on to her, but instead he skipped her and began taking photos of her younger sister. Mg doesn’t really go into much detail on how this must have affected Penny’s psyche – only that she was so jealous that she took her father’s laptop into the school and showed the other students, resulting in his arrest. It is heavily implied that Penny’s parents were not affectionate – they neglected their children (at least emotionally) and so Penny sought out attention and affection, as any child would. Seeing how much time her father spent with her older sister, and seeing why – it isn’t hard to believe that Penny would equate sexualisation to affection, and even love. (lemme just have a cry real quick.) This makes sense when you take into account her reaction to Caine’s refusal (which was actually pretty mild) and even when you look at earlier events – such as him helping to bathe her. I can’t speak for everyone, but if someone broke MY legs and then came in to help bathe me, I would not be happy, and yet Penny seems to almost enjoy it. We then learn that Penny and her sisters were sent to live with their aunt after their mother became too depressed to care for them. And, once again, Penny found that her sisters were getting all the attention. So she reacted with violence – by putting bleach in her older sister’s cereal. She later found out that her father had committed suicide in prison, after being beaten by other inmates. And so Penny’s formative years have been tinted with sex and violence – two things that no child should be exposed to (although that’s kind of the whole premise of the series.) When you look at her past it becomes clear that her take-down of Caine was an attempt to gain control over one of the many people who have denied her affection in favour of giving it to someone else. As she associates sex with affection, and responds to a lack of affection with violence, it makes sense that she would attack him in a way that is associated with sexual violence.

My final point is in relation to the actions that she takes while Caine is unconscious. She does three things that really give us an insight into her mentality regarding the cementing:

- She cements him

- She makes a tin foil crown for him

- She cuts off his shirt

These actions again are reminiscent, at least subtextually, of the act of r@pe - a sexual crime done with the intent to both incapacitate and embarrass the victim – in essence, a power-play. And this is exactly what Penny does. She begins by entrapping him in the cement, taking his power from him. We know that Penny was not scared of Caine’s power, this was not an act of paranoia as the cementing of the Coates kids was. But rather, she knew how much his power meant to him, how much he relied on it – and she wanted to make him feel just as powerless as he had made her feel. This is further reinforced by her making the tin foil crown. Of course, she partly did this to cause him more pain (she literally stapled it to his head), but the main reason was to embarrass him. To turn his own narcissism against him. And then, to top it all off, she cuts of his shirt – which is just straight up sexual assault. This is the moment in the scene where the interplay between sex and violence really comes out. As she sees it, sexualisation is a form of affection. But as her whole life she has been denied any form of affection she has twisted this in her mind to where she sees violence as a viable outlet of emotions – or rather a replacement for affection. I think Caine’s cementing showed the breaking point for Penny – there are so many things she wants to communicate (her anger at Caine for all the horrible things he has done to her, her affection towards him, her desire for power and respect) and she just doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to do it, due to years of witnessing sexual assault and experiencing neglect. So instead everything gets distilled down into this twisted act of violence where she both expresses all of these things and gets none of them.

I really love this scene as I think it is a great example of mg’s writing ability. I know her attack of Caine was not only due unrequited affections, but I think this side of it is really excellently written, and makes me wish that we has seen more of Penny. I think it would have been a very interesting plot twist and a great use of character if Penny had managed to discard of Drake in Fear and take over his role in the story. Anyway this was only meant to be a short post and I really rambled on (as if anyone is surprised by now). Thank you for reading and please feel free to comment on/ criticise this!! :)

#the gone series #penny

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thecleverdame · 4 years

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Origins (one shot)

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader

This story is set in the Hide and Seek AU. This a prequel to Hide and Seek.

Summary: You're a newly bitten wolf with no idea what you truly are. After being turned, you leave everything you know in hopes of finding a new life and in turn find a pack Alpha willing to take you in.

Warnings: ABO smut, a little dub-con, past assault

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words: 7.5k

When Nick asked you out on a date, you said yes because he was moderately good looking and seemed interesting. In hindsight Nick probably wasn’t even his real name, but at the time you had no idea that creatures like werewolves even existed. Maybe he picked up on that, your trusting nature and willingness to see the best in people. Maybe that’s why he made you a target.

When he attacked you, he wasn’t trying to change you. The more you go over the details of the assault it’s clear he wanted to kill you. Murder was the end game. He looked excited with his hands wrapped around your neck. His eyes lit up, mouth curled into a thrilled grin as you sputtered and fought back as best you could.

He held you down, then slammed your head against the cement of the sidewalk. You pissed yourself in terror, sure that your last moments were flashing before your eyes. Somewhere in the struggle, he changed into a half human, half wolf that snarled and howled, squeezing tighter and tighter.

When you managed to knee him in the crotch he bit you on the arm. Blood poured down his chin as he looked at you with rage. And then a miracle happened. The sound of a police car filled the night. Blue and red lights swirled and the familiar chirp of the siren sounded.

Nick ran. You laid, staring up at the stars, bleeding profusely from your head and arm, wondering if this was all some cruel joke.

Months Later

The Starlight Motel is old but clean and the best part is that no one bothers you here. You’re a nameless girl in a small town, worlds away from your old life. For the first few months you stretch every dollar, eating ramen noodles and washing your clothes in the bathtub. Anything to make the most of your meager funds.

You’re afraid to be around people. The world is jammed packed with nice, normal humans and you know better than to trust yourself. If you hurt someone you’d never forgive yourself. So you take precautions as best you can. Every night you chain yourself to the bed frame, careful to make sure the cuffs are tight. There’s no room for mistakes.

While you’re not exactly sure of the details, you know some nights you turn into a beast. There are claw marks on the headboard and you've shredded the mattress. The internet says you’re a werewolf and you’re inclined to believe it. You know what you saw when Nick turned. And you know that you can see and hear and smell things no normal person should be attuned to.

All you can do is your best. Lay low, try to stay under control.

When the money runs out you leave the motel and sleep in your car. It’s time you find a way to survive long term and for that you need cash.

You need a job.

There are others like you here. It’s partly why you stayed. When you first arrived in Red Hills you treated yourself to a burger and a beer at The Tavern. The second you stepped in the place you could smell them all around you. And they noticed you too, eyes watching you with interest. You wanted to stay, to find a way to strike up a conversation with one of them but in the end you chickened out and never went back.

But now that you need a job, you figure The Tavern should be your first stop.

The gas tank is hovering just above E as you pull into the parking lot. There’s a gas station just down the road where you’ll use your last few dollars to fill up. It’s just after noon and The Tavern isn’t open. The neon Hot Food! Cold Beer! sign is switched off, but there are two trucks and a car in the lot. Someone must be here.

You check your hair in the rearview, adjusting the neckline of your dress. It’s now or never.

Gravel crunches under your dirty white tennis shoes as you walk up to the building and pull the door open. You’re hit with a blast of cold air and the unnerving quiet of an empty, dark bar. There’s a guy behind the counter, drying freshly washed glass mugs.

He sees you and waves you off.

“We’re not open yet.”

“Oh I’m not here for that. I was hoping maybe you’ve got a job opening.” You walk closer, catching his scent. He’s a wolf. Humans barely register anymore. You belly up to the bar, extending a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Andy,” he smiles, drying his hand before shaking yours. After looking you over, he motions to one of the stools. “Never seen you before. You new in town?”

“Yeah. I don’t get out much.” You can smell fresh bacon being cooked in the kitchen and your stomach growls.

“You a waitress?” he asks, picking up the remote and muting the TV above the bar.

“I can be whatever you need me to be.”

“How much are you lookin’ to make?” he asks, giving you his full attention.

“Whatever you’re willing to pay. I just really need a job. I’m a hard worker. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Wash dishes, scrub floors.”

“You’ll probably get some shit, you know, with no…” he looks at your neck and taps his own pulse point with a whistle. “You gotta have thick skin to work here.”

It’s becoming painfully clear there’s a lot you don’t understand about this world.

“I’m good.” You nod. You’re far from thick skinned, but you’re going to have to learn.

“And you can’t work when you’re in heat. The boss doesn’t want a bunch of amped up wolves fighting over who gets a shot at you.” He throws his hands up as if to say not my rule.

In heat. You’ve got no earthly idea what he's talking about. It sounds like you’re going to have to learn a lot of things on the fly.

“Right, got it,” you affirm.

“Well, you’re in luck. We can find a job for you. We lost a waitress last week. I’ll set you up with Laurie for the paperwork. Can you start tonight? We got a new girl!” he shouts toward the kitchen.

“Um.” Your heart falls into your stomach. “Do you ever, you know, have people work off the books?” He gives you a strange look and you panic. You need money. “I’ll work for less. I just don’t have a social security card. I lost it in a...fire.”

“Right.” He stares at you thoughtfully, before tapping the countertop. “Stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

The man that comes back is not Andy. He’s a larger, older man who introduces himself as Benny and smells more like a dog than a wolf. You’ve never been alone with more than one of them at a time and it strikes you how different each of them are.

He stops to look at you, grunts, and then motions for you to follow him. “Over here. Let's have a conversation.”

He slides into a booth and you look around the empty bar hoping for Andy to return, before joining him.

“Andy says you’re looking for a job?” He asks the question but clearly already knows.

“Yes. I’m a hard worker and I-”

“What pack do you belong to? Because it sure as hell isn’t ours.” He chuckles dryly, sitting back and honing in on you.

“Pack?” You’re wide-eyed. Shit. You shouldn’t have come here.

“Are you having trouble understanding me?” He leans forward, both arms on the table. “You must have a pair on you or you’re the dumbest little Omega who ever existed. You’re in our territory without an invitation and you wander into the Alpha’s bar to find work? You got a death wish?”

The Alpha. You gulp, looking around at the empty bar.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” You panic, holding back tears. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave. I won’t come back.”

You calculate how far you can get on twelve dollars worth of gas. If there’s a stiff wind you might make it to Cold River, but it’s doubtful.

You can tell just by looking at him that he’s both impatient and used to intimidating people. He’s getting off on it. Maybe you’re more perceptive now that you’re a werewolf, but you can feel how he feeds off your fear.

“How long have you been in town?” he asks.

“F-five months,” you stutter. “I can just leave-”

“You’re going to sit your little ass right here. You’ve been here five months and you never bothered to seek out the local pack? You the reason there are bodies piling up over by Route 8?”

“What?” Your mind is reeling. The local news has been reporting a string of murders up and down the highway. He’s accusing you of being a murderer. “I’ve never hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, rapping his knuckles on the table. “You part of Eli’s pack? He send you here for a little recon?”

“I don’t know who that is. Honestly, I was just looking for a job. I knew there were people like me here. I didn’t know I should have introduced myself. I’m really sorry. Can I please leave? I won’t bother you again.”

“I already told you that you’re not going anywhere. I don’t like to repeat myself.” He raps his knuckles on the table and stands up. “Stay put.”

You sit in the booth, watching Andy and Benny whisper about you, both of them stealing glances as your anxiety level ratchets up to ten. There’s the sound of cars outside. A rowdy, rough around the edges group of men spill into the building. A half dozen of them, all stinking like wolves.

You’re overcome by all the sensations. All of these people are wolves and they each have their own unique scent. But it’s not just the smell, there’s energy coming each one, setting you even more on edge than you already are. One by one they sniff the air and then look toward you before lining up at the bar.

The last man to enter fills the entire door frame, he’s tall with broad shoulders. He looks around, his eyes fix on you immediately as if he already knew you’d be here. Benny wanders over and they have a quick exchange as he points in your direction. Next thing you know this new man is walking up to you.

He’s the Alpha, you know it in your bones. You don’t need anyone to tell you because you can feel him.

The moment he’s close enough for you to catch his scent, you throw up over the side of the booth, onto the cement floor. He doesn’t smell bad, but his scent is too thick, stronger than anything else you’ve ever experienced. He stops short, looking down his shoes, before turning his attention back to you.

“What did you do to her?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Benny throws up both hands. “Just gave her a talking to and she got all cagy. I’ll get a mop.”

“I’m so sorry!” You look up in horror, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The tears that you’ve managed to hold at bay spill from the corners of your eyes. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“Why are you crying?” he asks, sliding into the booth across from you.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“Of me?”

“Of all of you.”

“You don’t need to be scared, just take a moment and calm down.” He turns, shouting to Benny across the bar. “Bring us a wet rag!”

“Got it!” Benny confirms from somewhere in the back.

“Take a couple of deep breaths.” Long fingers strum over the table. “We’re just going to talk.”

Benny arrives with a damp towel and water, setting both in front of this new man.

“If someone would just tell me the rules, I can follow them.” You wipe your mouth with the rag, watching as he carefully slides the glass of water across the table to you.

“Why don’t we take it back a notch. We’ll start with the basics. I’m Sam. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you whisper, taking a drink.

“And you came in looking for a job?”

“Yes. I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be in here.”

“It’s alright,” he offers a little smile. “You told Andy you needed to be paid under the table because you don’t have a social security card. Why not?”

You could lie, make up a story. But the truth is you’re holding all this together by a shoestring that’s about to snap.

“I’m trying to stay under the radar, but I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. My parents will eventually come looking for me. Since I have no idea who to go to about getting a fake ID, I figured I’d try to find a place that would pay me cash.”

“Why don’t you want your parents to find you?” he asks.

“Because of what I am!” You break, tears coming back in full force. “I almost killed my mom. One minute I was fine and the next minute I could hear her heart beating and it made me fucking hungry. If I hadn’t left I would have lost control.”

You hate thinking about that night. The night you realized that nothing would be the same. You’d been in denial pretending you could control yourself, but after that, you knew you had to leave.

“It’s okay.” He nods, leaning forward with both elbows on the table. “It’s an admirable thing to walk away from your family instead of hurting them. What happened to the wolf who turned you?”

“I don’t know. He left me to die. I don’t think I was supposed to survive.”

“I’m very sorry that one of us did this to you without your consent. That’s an awful thing.” His forehead scrunches together, studying your reaction.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been on my own before. I mean, in college but that was different. I took all the cash I had and I ran. And now I’m out of money. I’m sleeping in my car. I’ve got twelve dollars left before I’m completely broke. I just wanted a job. I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

“I believe you.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing.

“That man said I shouldn’t be here because I’m not part of your pack. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. There are well-defined rules, but if you didn’t have someone to take you through the transition, how would you know.” He stops to think, tongue darting out between his lips. “You need pack to survive. To teach you about who and what you are. Would you like to stay here and be part of my pack?”

All the air goes out of the room as you stare at him, then at the men lined up at the bar. Sam is handsome and seems friendly enough but he’s also terrifying.

“What would it mean to be part of your pack?” you ask.

“You would be loyal to the pack and I will take care of you. You live by our rules, contribute to the pack when asked. In return, I’ll find you a job and a place to live. I’ll protect you. You’ll have a family.”

Can it really be as easy as this? Going from total solitude to a community of people who already know your secret.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“You can leave right now.” He shrugs, but his eyes say something different. “But you’re a werewolf who doesn’t understand the gravity of what she is. You’re an unclaimed Omega without a pack who’s sleeping in a parking lot. I don’t think you have many options.”

“What does that mean, Omega?” you ask, eager for any information. “He called me that too.”

“It’s part of what you are. There are other Alphas, like me. And Omegas and Betas. We can get into the specifics later. What you need to know is that it’s not safe for you to be out there on your own. Stay here and let me take care of you.”

You’re quiet for a moment. Every man in the room is silent and still, watching their Alpha. And in turn, he’s watching you with an unwavering stare.

“What does it mean to be loyal to you? Would you expect me to…” Your cheeks flush red. You can’t bring yourself to say it. But all these men ogling you like you’re a cartoon turkey leg are sending a clear message.

Sam shakes his head. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“You swear?” you ask and he smiles a wonderful, genuine smile in response.

“I swear.”

Your stomach growls. This time it’s so loud the whole bar must be able to hear it.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” you admit, looking at your hands.

“Let’s get you something to eat then.”

“I can’t pay,” you whisper. “I would but I need to put gas in my car and I-”

“It’s alright,” he hushes, reaching across the table and curling his hand around your closed fist. It’s immediate and electric. You both stare at each other as a jolt travels from his hand to your stomach, then lower. He feels it too because he pulls away as if he’s been stung. His eyes narrow, jaw going stiff. He yells back toward the bar. “Bring her a cheeseburger.”

He leaves you alone while you eat. No one’s so much as comes within ten feet of you and you get the distinct feeling they’re following an order. When he does come back, he’s sipping an open beer.

“Come on, I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

You walk behind him, painfully aware of every set of eyes watching as you follow Sam down the back hallway.

“In here.” He uses a key to unlock a door and it swings open to reveal an office, his office. There’s a worn-out sofa in the corner. “You can sleep here until we find you a place. The bathroom is in there. There’s a shower. It’s not five stars but it’s safer than your car.”

“Are you sure?” You glance back down the hall. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just, there’s a lot of people here.”

“The door locks. I’ve got the only key. I’ll give it to you when I leave. You’re safe here.”

There are a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t trust him and yet you do. He’s close, standing right beside you. You wish he’d touch you again, to feel that little zing that made your thighs quiver.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Lost in thought I guess.” You take a step back. “If I’m not interrupting your workday, do you think I could have a few minutes to clean myself up? I’ve been using the shower at the truck stop but it’s so dirty and I’m always worried about someone barging in.”

“Of course.” He shoves a hand in his pocket. “I have errands to run. When you’re done go find Andy. He’ll set you up for tonight, get you working. We’ll get you some cash so you don’t feel so trapped.”

“Thank you.” You mean it. He has no reason to offer this kind of assistance. Maybe there’s a quid pro quo coming, but his generosity seems genuine. “I’m not a Pollyanna you know. I might come across as a pushover because I’m overwhelmed, but I’m a strong person. I wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of me.”

“Good.” He walks toward the door, turning back for a final look. “I look forward to getting to know the real you.”

“Hey, I was told you’re the man to see.” You place both hands on the bar, happy to be back in the company of Andy. He’s got a goofy quality to him, friendly and unassuming.

“Indeed I am.” He hands you an apron. “The boss said you need tips. I guess we’ll see what kind of waitress you are.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Laurie will be here soon. She’s human, as are half the people who come in here. So ixnay on the werewolf talk.”

“Got it,” you confirm.

“Write all your orders out. Until you develop a shorthand, Bobby wants everything as clear as possible.”

“And Bobby is…”

“The cook.” Andy thumbs back toward the kitchen. “We’ve got a limited menu. Burgers, tacos and nachos are all anyone ever orders. You’ll be fine. We’re pretty relaxed but no breaks between 11 and 2. We’re too busy. The late shift at the mill lets out at 12:30 and we get slammed on Friday and Sunday. So if you need a smoke break do it before or after.”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Me neither.” He goes through a mental checklist, counting with his fingers. “Oh, if anyone gets handsy, touches your ass, you tell Benny. He’ll take care of it.”

“Good to know.” You can’t imagine going to Benny for anything after what an asshole he was earlier. Maybe being part of his pack will sweeten his disposition.

“Oh, before I forget, here.” He slides an envelope across the counter.

“What’s this?” you ask, peeking inside. There’s a stack of twenty-dollar bills.

“An advance.”

“How much is here?” You thumb through the bills. “I don’t need all this. I haven’t done any work yet.”

“Sam said five hundred.” Andy holds up his palm. “I just do what he tells me.”

“Right, thanks.”

You shove the envelope in your pocket, then head back to the office to hide it in your bags.

An hour later you’re sitting across from Laurie, a friendly woman who looks to be about your age. She’s got mousy brown hair and smells like menthol cigarettes. Her nails are bitten into short nubs, adorned with chipped red polish. Sipping Mountain Dew out of a plastic bottle, she goes through the list of your shared responsibilities.

“I work the bar, you handle the tables. It’s gonna be crazy. We need at least two more servers, but people don’t stick around here very long. The girl before you was great but I knew she wouldn’t last.”

“Why not?” you ask, popping a tortilla chip into your mouth.

“I can just tell. I have a sixth sense about these things. Too naive, couldn’t handle the guys. This can be a rough crowd. She was tall, blonde...probably why Sam hired her. He likes pretty girls.” She points to you.

“I think I was just in the right place at the right time.” You blush, folding your hands in your lap.

“There aren’t many options here. We get the long haul truckers, the guys from the mill and Harvey’s construction service. Guys who work sixteen hours a day and come here to blow off steam. You gotta watch yourself.”

“I’ll be alright.” You’re trying to convince yourself as much as her.

You spend the afternoon in the stockroom taking a full inventory of liquor and beer. It’s a dark, dingy room packed to the gills with unorganized supplies. You count cases and bottles until you can hardly think straight. You haven’t used your brain this much in months. It’s exhausting.

There a soft knock on the door and Sam pokes his head in.

“Hi.” You smile, looking away as your cheeks go hot. Christ, he smells so good.

“Hi.” He grins, sliding next to you in front of the shelves. “How are things going?”

“I’m good.” You suppress the urge to giggle, overcome with bubbling excitement to be this close to him.

He looks over the bottles, feigning interest. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to thank you for everything. I went from having zero prospects, to having a job and a place to sleep. And the cash advance...I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

“I’m the pack Alpha. It’s what I do. You’re one of us now.”

“Is that why you smell so good?” you ask, instantly mortified. “Sorry, it’s just, no one else smells the way you do. Is that because you’re an Alpha?”

“No,” Sam chuckles, then clears his throat. “That’s something else.”

“Oh,” you whisper, looking at the floor. You want to crawl under the rack.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never met an Omega with a scent like yours.”

“You like the way I smell?”

“Like is an understatement.” He looks at you, eyes dropping down your body and back up. There’s little subtlety in this new world.

“Do you have someone?” you ask, looking up at him. Those eyes entrance you, spellbound in a frozen moment where it’s only the two of you and the rest of the world melts away.

“No.” He steps closer, a hand reaching out to run the back of his fingers across your cheek to your ear. You shiver at the touch, your whole body going tingly, sucking in a shaky breath.

“I would think that being the Alpha you wouldn’t have trouble finding women.”

“I have plenty of options,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. “But finding a woman to fuck and finding a mate are two very different things.”

“I see,” you pull away, slinking out of his reach.

“What I said bothered you?” He looks genuinely surprised.

“No,” you lie. “But I’m not the kind of person who would offer myself up to be another notch on your belt.”

“I never thought you would be.” His implications are clear but you’ve reached your capacity for the day and he can sense it. “I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“No, I just, um, the way you smell makes it hard for me to think straight. I’m not sure that’s fair.”

“Probably not.” He gives you one final look and slips back out the door.

The night wears on. You move from the storeroom to the main bar as it gets busier. The Tavern is the only place with a liquor license in fifty miles. Every drunk in the county is drawn like a moth to a flame.

Laurie wasn’t kidding. You can’t keep up with slinging beers much less food, but you try your damndest, running from one end of the place to the other.

“You alright, kid?” Bobby asks, shoving a burger across the window from the kitchen to the pickup area at the side of the bar.

“Yeah, I’ll get used to it,” you smile, checking the order slip.

“Why don’t you take a breather.” Bobby wipes off his hands and takes the plate himself. “I got you covered for a few minutes.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.” You head back toward Sam’s office, only to be met by a man twice your size. “Excuse me.” You try to get around him, but he blocks your way.

“Look at you,” he grins, rocking to the side. He’s a wolf, his scent is musty and laced with old beer and weed. “You’re the new one, huh?”

“Yeah, my first night.” You sidestep and he counters.

“You in a hurry? You should slow down a little.” He takes a step forward and you retreat in tandem.

“Please don’t...” you whisper.

“Don’t what?” He smiles, getting closer. “Just tryin’ to get to know you a little better.”

“I-I’m working,” you sputter, trying to look past him. You could scream, but the music is so loud no one would hear you.

“Don’t be rude,” he sneers. “I bet you’d like me if you gave me a chance.”

“What the fuck are you doing back here, Virgil?” Sam’s voice booms from behind the man. “Get off her.”

Sam grabs Virgil by the nape of his neck, pulling him off you as he shouts in protest.

“I wasn’t doing nothin’!” he hollers, walking on his tiptoes as Sam pushes him backward. “We were talkin’.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Sam pulls the man close, leaning down to hiss into his ear. Both of them staring directly at you. “You get out of here and don’t come back. I’m not gonna tell you twice. Understand?”

“Yep,” he nods enthusiastically. Sam lets him go, and he scrambles away.

“You alright?” Sam asks.

No, you’re not alright. You’re shaking like a leaf.

“I just..h-he t-took me off guard. That’s all.”

“Come here.” He takes you by the arm, ushering you toward his office. His touch alone is enough to send you reeling.

“I never used to be so scared,” you explain. Sam closes the door, giving you his full attention. “It wasn’t being turned into a werewolf that spooked me. It was the attack itself. He tried to kill me and now I’m a mess every time some guy comes on to me.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promises softly, getting closer until you have to tip your head back to look up at him. You believe him. Sam feels like safety, like belonging.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask.

“The same reason your heart speeds up when we’re together.”

He’s right, your heart is thumping fast and hard at the proximity. You hardly know him, you definitely should not entertain the host of ideas swirling in your head. It’s a constant stream of all the dirty, nasty things you’d let him do to you.

Sam is handsome, big and powerful, and the first person to make you feel truly safe in a long time. But he’s also got you riled. His very presence sparks an instant and overpowering attraction that you’ve never felt before.

“You know,” he slinks toward you and you step back in tandem until your back meets the wall. “If you smelled like me, they wouldn’t bother you. It’s the second-best thing to having my mark on your neck.”

His mark. You’re not sure what that means but not opposed to finding out.

“I’m not a one night stand,” you whisper, fractured and needy. “I’m not disposable.”

“I don’t plan on getting rid of you,” he whispers, grinning slyly as a hand finds your hip. You moan as his fingers curl into skin and then his body is pressing against yours, the weight of him pinning you to the wall. His head drops down, nose and mouth, hot and open against your neck as he breathes in. You’re unsure of what this is, but it feels supremely intimate as he scents you. His other hand slides under your jaw, holding your head in place while he nips under your ear. His hips press forward and you can feel his cock straining through his jeans, pressing against your stomach.

“You feel how hard you make me?” he murmurs, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. You nearly come off the ground, whimpering and shaking. Desperate to hold on, you loop an arm around his neck. You grab his hand, prying it off your hip and placing it over your crotch. He smiles against your neck, pulling back to get a look at you. “You want me to show you what being an Omega means?”

“Yes,” you nod.

His hand finds its way under your dress, then down the front of your panties. Two long, thick fingers press along either side of your clit and curl under. He strokes between your folds, first where you’re sticky and then sinking inward where you’re wet and burning up inside.

You hiss, feeling him push in up to his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He’s breathless, pulling out and pushing back in as you twist on his fingers. “I’m going to stretch you open...so wet for me, Omega. Fucking perfect.”

“Sam!” You practically cry out, moving your hips down against his hand as he fucks you, slow and measured. The two fingers inside scissor open and you snap your head back against the wall with a thud, moaning as he continues to stroke inside your cunt.

He pulls his hand from between your legs and drops to his knees right there on the carpet. Lifting your dress around your hips, he peels your panties down your legs until you’re able to step out of them. He looks up, grinning wide and then buries his face in your cunt as you squeal.

His tongue is thick and strong, licking over your clit and then down between your folds, following the path of his fingers. It darts in and out of your soaked hole, tasting and grunting, trying to get as far inside you as he can with his nose pressed against your bud.

You can hear it, the sound of his tongue in your pussy. It’s the most obscene thing you could have ever imagined, the wet squelch echoing off the walls of his office.

Sam huffs, hot breath over your mound as he feasts. Both his hands dig into the clammy skin on the back of your thighs, holding you open and keeping you up right at the same time.

“Sam, fuck, I, fuck,” you ramble, head thrashing side to side. You fist two hands of his hair, grinding your cunt into his face until it’s not clear where you end and he begins.

Before you know what’s happening he’s back on his feet, pressing against your lips in a crushing kiss. You can taste yourself on him as he pulls you close. You suck on his tongue, wanting more of anything and everything he’s offering.

“Come here,” he growls. Picking you up off the floor, your pussy grinds against the front of his shirt before he drops you onto the couch and rips his shirt over his head. His pants come off next, hopping on one foot as he stares at you.

Wedging a hand between your thighs, you rub your clit, watching as his underwear slide down. His cock is huge, swollen and curved up against his stomach. You’ve only ever seen a cock this big in porn, but here he is. Just as beautiful as he is intimidating.

He takes his cock in his hand, stroking himself and licking his lips. Both of you touching yourselves at the anticipation of what comes next.

He reaches for your legs, running his hand up the back of your calves and hooking under each knee. Your hand falls away from yourself at the sight of him spreading you open and kneeing his way between your thighs.

Looking to you for final confirmation, he grabs his dick, pushing the head against your pussy and sinking inside. His hips slide forward, pushing until you’re sure he’s going to split you in two. There’s no more you can possibly take and yet you open up until he’s rooted. His eyes roll back into his skull and your tongue pushes against the roof of your mouth.

“Uh,” you pant, grabbing at his biceps. Your eyes open and close, mouth open in a constant, agonizing moan. You’re full and stretched and hovering on the edge of something unknown.

His lips find yours, meeting in an open-mouth kiss. He grunts, sucking on your lower lip as he pulls back, cock dragging thick and slow. He’s almost completely out, just the head left inside, before giving a solid thrust back home.

“Fuck,” he groans, finding a quick pace, fucking you root to tip with every stroke. He buries his face into your neck, one hand cupping a breast as he ruts into your pussy. He turns, kissing under your chin, licking a stripe from between your collar bones, upward. “Gonna knot you, make you cum so hard.”

You’ve got no earthly idea what he means, but you want it all. Your entire body is quaking with the intensity from having him inside you. The wet sound of your body taking his cock fills the room until all you can hear is his constant grunting and the slap of bodies coming together.

“Sam,” you urge him on, gripping the sweaty hair at the back of his neck with one hand, the other sliding down the fake leather of the couch.

“Alpha,” he nips at your jaw. A hand fists into your hair, short nails digging into your side as he holds you in place, thrusting faster, harder. “Call me Alpha when I’m inside you.”

“Alpha,” you breathe, nodding in submission. You’ll call him anything he wants as long you get to fuck him again.

“Turn over,” he instructs, plucking a wet kiss before pulling away. You’re empty and cold, everything between your legs sticky, as you give him a look and roll onto your stomach. “Hands and knees. Spread your legs for me, Omega.”

You assume the position, pushing your ass into the air as he settles between your calves. One hand pressed on the small of your back as his cock pushes back into your cunt. In this position, you have no control over how deep he can get. Surging forward, you get a sense of his real power when his pelvis smacks into your backside.

He fucks hard, hips moving fast, then faster until your cunt is almost raw from the friction. It’s when he slows down that you feel something different, the stretch becoming increasingly more challenging.

“What’s happening?” You reach back behind yourself, and he grabs your hand still stroking in and out, in and out, growing thicker by the second. “Alpha,” you try to look behind you. His hand pulls your hip backward, grinding his cock as deep as he can get. Whatever is happening, it’s more than your body can take. “Sam, please, it hurts.”

“It’s okay,” he gulps, curling over your back. “It’s gonna feel good. You’re gonna cum, just trust me.”

“I can’t, I-”

He pulls out one final time before ramming back inside. His cock has to work to get inside you, pushing with unrelenting force until your pussy finally opens up for him. And then the pressure becomes unbearable and snaps. His cock swells and you see stars. The pain morphs, curls into something else altogether. Vision blurs, time stops and you cum like a freight train, jerking and twitching.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, rocking forward, both hands gripping the arm of the couch, framing your shoulders.

You’re out of your mind. Floating on a sexual high that shouldn’t exist. You can feel it, the warmth spreading inside. The way your cunt milks his cock until you’re filled to the limit with cum and it leaks down your thighs.

There’s nothing more to do than concentrate on breathing as every muscle in your body contracts and releases. Little shocks jerking your body as his mouth kisses the top of your spine.

“Holy shit.” You collapse under him, letting his weight press you down into the sofa. “What is that?”

“My knot.” He rocks forward again, tugging deep within your pussy. “Does it feel good?”

“Ahmm,” you nod, cheek sticking to the couch.

He strokes his hand up and down your sides, mouth kissing at your shoulder, over your back. When he finally finds his way back to your lips, you’re hungry for him again. Opening up to feel the slide of his tongue over yours. His knot lessens little by little until he can pull out.

“Turn over,” he instructs, a rush of his cum running out of your swollen cunt.

He sits on his heels, taking one leg and pulling it up over his shoulder. Two fingers sink into your pussy, easily sliding into the warm, sticky mess between your legs.

“I feel like you drugged me,” you smile up at him, gasping as his fingers twist deeper inside you. His cock is just as hard as before he came, bobbing obscenely below his belly. “You’re still hard.”

“You’re still wet.” He teases you, looking at your sex, his thumb pressing at your bud. “You need more?”

“I don’t think I’m done yet.” You’re drunk on him, on his skin and his hands, how fucking dirty this all feels.

“I’ll make you cum until you can’t walk,” he grins.

“Promise?” You raise an eyebrow and he looks at you in amusement.

“You’re gonna get it now.”

“Oh yeah?” You goad him. “What could possibly-oh fuck.”

He leans forward, his mouth closing around a nipple, sucking, then teeth biting until you’re squirming along this new line of pleasure and pain.

It’s the gentle clicking of a keyboard that wakes you up. You’re belly down in his bed, opening your eyes to the sight of Sam sitting propped against a pillow, with a laptop on his lap. Stretching out long, you yawn and let your eyes fall closed again.

You remember him dragging you out of the bar. Pulling over on the side of the road when you were overcome with the sudden urge to suck his cock.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks and you blink your eyes open again.

“Yeah, but it’s okay.” You smile into the pillow. His very presence makes you giddy. “I was afraid you were a dream. That I was going to wake up back in my car.”

“I’m real.” He smiles, punching the enter key and closing the computer, setting it on the side table. Turning on his side, he props himself up on an elbow, looking down at you in amusement. “You were exhausted. You were out the minute your head hit the pillow.”

“I was, I still am. You wore me out. And it’s been a long time since I really slept. Even at the motel, I felt uneasy. What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

“You’re an early riser.”

“Normally, yeah. I get up, work out. Go over the numbers from the bar.”

“You stayed in bed for me?”

“I didn’t want you to wake up and think I left you. Besides, I’d rather be here with you.”

You grin, pressing your face into the pillow and laughing. That same excitement you felt yesterday floods back.

“What's wrong?” Sam chuckles as you roll onto your back

“You make me feel like I just woke up next to my high school crush. Or I won the lottery or something.”

“Endorphins. I feel it too.” He lays down on his back, taking your hand into his and holding it up to inspect your fingers. “Things move fast in our world.”

“That's an understatement.” You take a deep breath, staring at this handsome man beside you. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

“Here with me or here metaphorically?”

“Both. Yesterday morning I thought I was going to starve to death in my shitty car. Now I’m here with a guy I hardly know. But I feel like I do know you. My head is spinning.”

“Do you regret it?” he asks, turning to look at your face as he holds your hand against his chest. “Maybe I should have slowed things down. Given you more time. It’s just when I smelled you, I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“We were meant to be together. That we were going to be together. You’re my mate.”

He grins, big and broad, so happy his eyes wrinkle into little lines. You choke on your own spit, stunned by this declaration.

“What? How could you even know?”

“I can feel it, smell it on you.” His hand spreads out over your stomach as he watches his fingers stretch out.

It sounds crazy but you know it’s true. The minute he said the word you felt something whirl to life.

“We just met,” you whisper, suddenly apprehensive. “This doesn’t scare you?”

“That’s the beauty of what we are. When we know, we know. You’re mine. I can feel it in my bones.”

You stare at him, looking down at your stomach and the width of the enormous hand covering you from hip to hip.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“I understand why, but you don’t need to be.” His hand moves to your face, stroking over your jaw. “I’ll take care of you, make you mine. You’ll always have everything you need.”

“And what if I’m not the person you imagine me to be?” you ask quietly. “I’m messy. I hate waking up before noon and I’m selfish.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be human, it’s half of what we are.”

#alpha sam winchester #alpha!sam x omega!reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader

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thesoloists · 4 years

Text

Unsweet Dreams

Summary: Bucky may be free of Hydra’s influence, but he’s not free of that of the Winter Soldier. He’s slowly coming to terms with that.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma and anxiety, brief graphic depictions of murder (assault & strangulation), chronic nightmares, fluff via post-nightmare comfort (if it’s any consolation, I tried to keep it balanced)

A/n: AHH, I’m so nervous! It’s been awhile since this corner of the interweb has seen my writing (I made a new tumblr and everything), so if whoever reads this could just, y’know, drop me an ask telling me what you think about this fic, I would really appreciate it. Also, I promise not all my fics will be this dark. I just needed the bit of catharsis at the end. :’)

Bucky used to live in constant fear. It was like a malignant tumor, slowly killing him and robbing him of the ability to live every damn day of his life.

To be in a crowd was like sticking him in a coffin full of nails. As he struggled to stay out of the swirl of hurried people, his anxiety would skyrocket to the point of short-circuiting his mental system. His whole body becomes stiff, his responses shortened and robotic, as he becomes helplessly overwhelmed by the blaring warning signs going off in his head. Until his brain, finding no other option, shut down enough to function on autopilot. Only when he was away from everyone, when his mind was sure they were a safe distance from the danger of the Winter Soldier, would he come back to himself. But, to be honest, was there ever a safe enough distance from such a mindless beast?

The idea of becoming him again was so crippling that before Shuri offered to fix him, Bucky would spend days at a time locked in his room and weeks without leaving the compound. Shuri said he would never be that man again, the crudely molded vague interpretation of one, anyway—not after whatever indescribable thing she had done to him with Wakandan technology that Bucky still finds respectfully confusing. Bucky wanted so badly to believe her, but why, even now, if she is as certain as she was then that the gangrenous part of him is gone, why does he still see him in his dreams at night? Sometimes standing before him like a ghost, void of his humanity, empty of soul, filled only with commands of murder and mission and the pain endured in every attempt to scrape away the bloodshed.

There’s no place in Bucky’s mind he can hide where the monstrous Winter Soldier cannot find him. In pleasant dreams of sandy beaches with the smell of salt on the open air, the beast will tear open a gaping black rift right behind him, grab Bucky by the back of his collar, and drag him into the void as his screams fall on apathetic ears. Where he ends up is a place where his cries are heard by no one, Where color cannot penetrate the bitter black, and where shapes and barriers do not exist. He can run forever and never hit a wall, and all the while, the Winter Soldier will stalk toward him. Inevitable, just as Bucky is with his surrender.

Agony awaits him, but he knows it will end. It has to end. And when it does, he will wake.

Bucky has long given up trying to escape on his own. Every attempt has proved futile, and it only draws out the agony. He prefers his death to be as quick as ripping a band aid. So, he goes nowhere, just stands in the very place the Winter Soldier dropped him, and waits.

The Winter Soldier stands maybe twenty feet away. His eyes are shrouded in smears of dark black, but his eyes are a stark contrast of light blue shards of cryogenic ice.

Knowing the end will be the same as every other end before it brings Bucky no semblance of comfort. He is helpless to it. No more than a prisoner to his own imagined fate.

After a while of the Winter Soldier reducing the encounter to nothing more than a one-sided staring contest, Bucky hangs his head, shaking it at the absurdity of being made to wait. “Just get it over with,” he mutters.

The shape of the Winter Soldier flickers and disappears, manifesting with daunting intensity right in front of him. Bucky finds nothing but the hoard of his own past screams in the Soldier’s empty gaze.

In a blink, the Winter Soldier moves. The plates on the Soldier’s metallic machine arm whir and shift as his cold metal hand latches around Bucky’s throat in an unyielding vise, squeezing tighter and tighter, killing the human, killing Bucky.

Then it is over. In that particular dream, after Bucky dies, Bucky wakes.

Most of the time, however, it is Bucky looking through the lens of the Winter Soldier as a captive, unable to control his movements. It is Bucky’s traitorous metal arm around the throat of someone he cares about, tightening around their choked gasps and rasped pleas...

[Bucky has no desire to live out the Winter Soldier’s greatest hits on all of his friends, so he asks that the burden be left to another’s imagination. If it is any consolation, he is very sorry.]

He’s killed them all more times than he can count. Steve always knows when he’s had one of the dreams the next morning and who it was about because Bucky is incapable of looking that person in the eye. The image of his hand wrapped around their throat is still too fresh a wound in his mind. He’s nothing more than a shell on those mornings. His eyes are gaunt, his attention impossible to keep, and he’s left haunted for most if not all the remaining hours of the day. It’s an inevitability.

It wasn’t until he met you that Bucky allowed himself to believe Shuri’s words of comfort weren’t just empty words meant to reassure him. It’s taken months for him to get to this point, but you have been nothing but patient, never forcing him into anything, never questioning the slow speed at which your relationship progressed. You only take what he gives and in return give what he needs. He still has nightmares, though they occur far less often with you sleeping beside him. In fact, before tonight, Bucky hadn’t had one in months. To know what it felt like to be well-rested, he hadn’t felt that probably since he was digging his stupid five-foot-nothing best friend out of trouble. Before either had turned their gaze toward joining the war.

When Bucky has either nightmare involving the Winter Soldier, it doesn't matter which, he always wakes up crying. Sometimes silently, sometimes with whimpers or explosive sobs—freshly rebuilt only to be destroyed by the horrors that play out in a hell of his mind’s own making. You sleep notoriously light, so it doesn’t take much for you to wake, and you never want him to apologize for it. His whimpers begin quietly, but they are enough. With the fast action of someone who has done this many times before, you move across the bed until your chest is flush with his back, throw your arm around him, and hold on tight as you whisper sweet assurances into the crook of his neck as his body is wrecked by sob after sob after sob. Grounding him in the existence of his humanity, in the reality of his life as it is now—good and warm and safe— until his tremoring body stills. It’s by no means a quick remedy, and perhaps the emotional exhaustion does most of the work, but with one final shudder, Bucky lets out a hard breath, his last few tears nothing more than wet stains on his pillow.

In unspoken words of comfort, you press kisses along the jagged scaring where flesh meets metal, before resting the side of your face against his shoulder which is damp with cool sweat, and guide his ragged breathing to a slower, fuller calm with the warmth of your breaths on his back.

In the now quiet dark of the bedroom, Bucky strokes the back of your hand, tracing lightly over every knuckle with his fingertips.

With tender movement, you turn your hand beneath his to grasp his hand loosely between your fingers. Your gentle squeeze is simply to ask, Are you okay?

He squeezes twice. No.

He shifts his hand again and after a beat, makes a small request by tapping three times on the back of your head. Your voice breaks through the darkness as you whisper to him, “Who was it, my love?”

It takes him a minute because he has to remember, and that involves reliving the memory of the dream, if only for a glimpse. But he wants to remember, if only for an attempted catharsis.

“Steve,” he says hoarsely. Or Natasha, Sam, Tony, or someone else unfortunate enough to have been dropped into the role of victim—But it’s Steve who affects him the most, sometimes in aftershocks that last for days.

Three taps means he wants to talk about it, but doesn’t want to speak first. Something about having to break the silence after having to relive that trauma just feels too daunting to him, especially now that he’s just been reminded of the monster hiding in his closet after months of silence gave him the false security of maybe being finally free. If anything, it was the sobering realization that he would never truly be free, but it’s an affliction of which he’s willing to find ways to cope. So far, his best success has been found in months of therapy and in the love he found with you. He doesn’t solely rely on you. That’s a burden, and he’s not about to expect you, an extraordinary ordinary human, to somehow be the cure for his chronic mental disturbance. But you bring him words of encouragement and a presence that puts him at ease, and if this is merely the baby-steps to learning to walk on his own, he’s willing to take it and continue practicing. No matter how much he falls, you have made it clear you will always be there to catch him if he needs it.

You wait until he’s ready for you to get up, spending several minutes brushing strands of damp hair away from his face and the rest of the uncounted time trailing your fingers up and down his arms and across his chest in an endlessly light, thoughtful caress. Only when he tells you it’s okay do you briefly disappear into the kitchen to put a kettle on the stove. It’s always been difficult for him to go back to sleep after a dream like this, but it’s easier after he talks through it, and it’s easier with tea.

He doesn’t find sleep again, but you fall asleep on the couch an hour before dawn and halfway through his fourth episode of M*A*S*H. Your whole body is curled in a tight ball on the other half of the couch as you hug an empty mug of tea close to your chest. He carefully removes it from your grasp one vise-like finger at a time (jeez, you have an insane grip for someone who’s asleep), vaguely feeling like he’s trying to disassemble a bomb, and sets it on the side table next to the couch .

As the credits roll, Bucky carries you back to bed and is part way through tucking you beneath the covers, all warm and snug like a cute little sausage roll, when you begin to stir. Instantly, Bucky freezes. Then he remembers you always do this as if it’s part of some weird post-nightmare bedtime ritual and always manage to go right back to sleep. Comforted by the assurance, and also a little amused by the memories, he turns to close the blinds to block out the rays that would have cut unbearably bright lines against your face had he done nothing (and he’s never been much of a do nothing kind of guy), but when he turns back around, you’re rubbing your eyes with your fingertips—awake, it seems. (Aw, hell.) You blink blearily at him with a lopsided smile he finds adorable, a smile there just for him.

Sometimes he forgets how lucky he is.

When your mouth opens with an obscenely loud, drawn-out yawn, he's never loved you more.

After smacking your lips, still in the midst of a sleepy haze, you ask, “You okay?”

While you look at him, Bucky realizes you’re trying monumentally hard to keep your eyes from opening fully, narrowing them to the point that he wouldn’t even know you were still awake if you hadn’t said something. Bucky’s smile turns butter soft at that.

His heart swells. He’s just so appreciative of you. Your kindness. That you willingly sacrifice precious hours of sleep just to tend to the wounds of his own psychological warfare.

“Yeah. I’m good now,” Bucky assures you, and he means it. He lowers his hand to cradle your cheek, sweeping the pad of his thumb back and forth across the swell of your cheek beneath your eyelashes. At the caressing motion, your eyelids flutter, then fall completely closed in total surrender. He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Sweet dreams, doll.”

Your response is swallowed by the pillow as you shimmy down the bed to bury your face beneath the covers, but he’s pretty sure he heard you say something endearing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #beckham writes

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

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The Miys, Ch. 110

I am so excited that so many people liked Nixe’s appearance in the last chapter. I seriously, seriously cannot credit anyone but @dierotenixe and @catolicabuena for that match made in heaven.

For this chapter, I want to thank my beta readers, @zazen-rabbit, @baelpenrose, and @charlylimph-blog. Bael gets credit for both the story and the person who tells it, while Zazen-rabbit and Charly get credit for the byplay of Tyche and Charly, because I really do believe that is how it would work out if they met in real life.

P.S. I am in the U.S, so if you have early voting in your state, please go vote now so you are exposed to fewer people. If you are still able to register to vote, please do. If you can’t vote in person, please vote by mail-in ballot and check local regulations on how to turn it in.

After our resident mermaid vanished with a near-silent splash, we made our way back to the campsite. Shortly, we were carving into the gigantic vegetables Sam had grown for us. While some - like Conor and Coffee - had no issue scooping out the contents, I was soon leaning so far over that I had to kick my legs to get them back on the ground. Maverick started to laugh one time, but a glare from Tyche killed it before it could get very far.

My ribs were starting to hurt from bouncing up on the rim of the pumpkin, when suddenly I heard my sister start swearing. When she finally stopped, I saw her glance at Charly and arch a brow. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinking?” she asked cryptically.

Apparently Charly understood completely. “Yep,” was the only response before both climbed on top of their respective pumpkins and started ripping out the contents until they could stand inside to get the rest. I was actually jealous…. There was no way I would be able to do the same thing, seeing as I was about half-again the size of my sister, at least.

Instead, I decided to take a break and let those better suited to hollowing out our victims take care of the work. I wasn’t the only one, I noticed, as I sat next to Arthur and took the water he handed me. “I would ask when we start telling ghost stories again,” he ventured, staring past the light emitters as Simon and Grey approached, “but something tells me Nixe got a head start on all that.”

Simon shuddered as he crossed his legs to take a seat. “Shouldn’t there be a rule against Sirens singing spooky songs about drowning people?”

The three of us stared blankly, trying to process that question. “Simon.” Grey spoke so slowly that I felt like I was hearing them through molasses. I had honestly never heard my fellow Councillor sound so uncertain of what they were saying. “I hope your suggestion is meant to be humorous, as even I would find myself profoundly disappointed to find the closest thing I will ever know to a merperson, singing in the middle of the night, during a camping trip, ostensibly during a holiday season dedicated to being scared, and find they were singing about anything else.” The sight of them slowly ticking off each part of that scenario was too much to bear, and my laughter distracted everyone else in our group.

“Are we talking about the mermaid song?” Charly asked as she took a seat and started digging through the carrier with our dinner. As she started passing out hand-held meat pies, she glanced at Simon in confusion. “I noticed that last time… Simon, you hate scary stories. I get not knowing last time that we were going to tell any, but I made a point to specifically mention about - I dunno, every time I had an excuse to - leading up to this trip.” Politely left off was the implied question: So why did you come?

He hung his head and shrugged before Conor gently hit him on the shoulder and grinned. “Leave him alone, Charly. If you aren’t scared, what’s the point?” Tossing a wink to Maverick, Conor handed a pie to him before handing one to Simon. “Just keep in mind, they’re all stories, no matter what anyone else tells you.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Or they were true once, but it was a very long time ago, back on Earth.” He ignored the glares from Conor and Maverick as he contradicted their attempts to calm Simon. “Once, when I was on my own in the After, I was looking for books - Sophia, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t use most of them for kindling - and I found this old journal stuck behind several encyclopedias. And when I say it was an old journal, I mean really old. It dated from around the time of the United States Civil War.”

“Most of it was pretty average, everyday stuff, even nearly two-hundred years later. But that last entry…” He shook his head like he was trying to forget something. “I don’t even know what his name was, he obviously never mentioned it in a journal he never meant anyone else to read. But I think even I would have been terrified if that happened to me.”

After a prolonged pause, I elbowed him. “Seriously? You aren’t going to tell us what it said?” I scowled, knowing how aware he was that bringing something up and then not telling me would drive me crazy, even if I was better off not knowing. “You can’t tell Simon that some stories are true, bring up a story, then not tell it.”

Somewhat smugly, he looked like he was about to argue when a small knife landed between his feet with a thunk. Snapping his head up in the direction it came from, Tyche and Charly looked suspiciously oblivious to the projectile. With a tug, Arthur freed it before giving it a once over. “Give this back to your sister later, but if another one shows up, I’m not telling the story.” Handing me the knife, he started reciting what he had read in the journal.

“My old friend Kilmore had sent me a letter, just as my wife and I were attempting to find a suitable home for our family - she was pregnant, you see. He asked for my help in a small matter, ridding him of a dangerous and unhinged tenant, and while I’d heard some troubling rumors about how Kilmore dealt with people who caused trouble on his lands, I was eager - he swore to me that he would give my wife and I the cottage he was evicting this man from once it was cleaned if I was willing to give him a hand. The land around the cottage was lovely, idyllic, and thus, despite our misgivings about helping him with his dirty work, my wife and I headed to my old friend’s land.”

“Kilmore was a widower, but his sister lived with him still, and while she and my wife enjoyed one another’s company, I went out with him to go deal with the tenant. I saw a great deal of strange markings on the trees around the cottage - strange, dark symbols and sigils. Kilmore rolled his eyes at them, and rapped sharply on the door.

"Sir,” he called. “You’ve not been paying rent, and you’ve been setting fire to parts of my woods, and only last week you assaulted one of my groundskeepers - the poor fellow was hurt. I’ve had enough of your boorish activity, and am going to cast you off my lands.”

“The large fellow in the cabin - strangely proportioned, with a massive black dog sitting at his feet, made no move. Kilmore spoke again. “I am speaking to you, you lout.”

“The man made no reply, but this time simply stood up, grabbed a powerful bow of some strange white wood from the wall, nocked an arrow and sent it winging through the open window by which Kilmore and I stood.

“Kilmore cursed, and spoke again. “Very well, you utter madman. We’ll have to smoke you out.”

“With that, we set about blocking the man’s chimney and windows and set a fire near the open one - a fire that quickly spread and caught part of the cabin ablaze. Kilmore cursed, and assured me that he’d pay for my wife and I to remain in an apartment in the manor proper until the cottage was rebuilt, but the man came out, staggering and swearing in a tongue we didn’t know, and swiping at us with a hideously curved knife before Kilmore struck him hard on the temple with a cane.

“The man spat, still speaking that strange tongue, and then abruptly started speaking in a civilized language. “My dog, my dog!” We realized then that the dog hadn’t emerged - and when we realized that nothing could have survived that inferno, Kilmore began attempting to apologize, but the man simply struck him across the mouth, said a little more in his own language, then screamed madly and fled into the woods.”

I started to open my mouth to insist this couldn’t be the entire story… Nothing like that would have terrified me, much less Arthur, after everything that was survived in the After. When I opened my mouth, before any words could come out, he shoved a second meat pie between my teeth to stop the objection. Even Coffee smiled, despite the story, as Arthur continued. “I was skipping the boring stuff in between, because I doubt anyone here cares about how many barrels of ale they made, or how much apple cider they kept to drink fresh instead of setting aside to ferment. Although, either there were several Missus Grossmans, or the woman was as fertile as a rabbit… Anyway.”

“It was a year later when my wife and I finally moved into the rebuilt cottage. The servants helping us bring our things in kept stepping strangely over the threshold, and my wife, our baby swaddled in a blue blanket in her arms, asked why.

“The madman who lived here - he buried his dog over the threshold. Laid a curse. We’re trying to avoid waking it.” I ignored the commoner’s superstition - my wife and I were too learned to fear such things.

“Still, my wife heard strange growling that evening, waking me about it repeatedly, and I didn’t know what to make of it. The next day, Kilmore and I set out for a short time - the madman had well and truly crossed a line, murdering a stableboy with that same knife we’d seen, and we went to hunt him down.

“We finally did so, the crazed man stumbling and swearing at us that the spirits of the wronged would have their vengeance, even as he charged and Kilmore’s flintlock roared. The man still managed to drag himself over and bury his knife in my friend, who the servants helped back to the house while a doctor was summoned. I was told to go home by Kilmore’s sister.

“When I arrived, my wife was screaming, sobbing wildly and desperately tearing at the threshold of our house. “What’s wrong!?”

“The dog. The dog. it…it took George! We have to get him back!”

“I didn’t know what to make of that, and cast desperately around my house for my son, but I didn’t see him…just large, muddy pawprints and I joined my wife in the mad scramble at the threshold..only to see a speck of color that I frantically clawed at, recovering a scrap of fabric - a bloodstained shred of George’s blue blanket.

“At the sight of it, I knew, and my wife knew, that our son was dead. We couldn’t stay in the cottage after that, and we left. My wife continued hearing padding, the breathing of a large dog, occasionally a growl, but I never did. About a year later, she told me that I had to go to Kilmore, see what he could do to perhaps put the spirit of the dog and his mad master to rest. I arrived at Kilmore’s door, and rang it.

“The butler answered, not my friend, nor his sister. I asked after him, and the Butler looked at me oddly. “My lord, Kilmore’s been dead for some time now.”

“Did his wounds from the madman’s blade fester?”

“They seem to have. They fully recovered, but his sister swore one night she heard a dreadful growling, and a snarl, and when she went in, the scars had burst open and rot had poured out.”

“I shuddered at the thought. “Then may I see my friend’s sister, and give her my condolences?”

“The butler shook his head. “No sir. She’s given orders that she’s not to be disturbed. She isn’t well - believes she’s being haunted by a demon.”

“What kind of demon?”

“She speaks of a massive black dog, but it’s little more than the grief-stricken raving of a woman who’s lost her brother to tragedy.”

“I left, shaken, knowing that the curse would continue. It’s been another two years since then. My wife died, mercifully, a few weeks ago, tormented by growls and padding in the night until her mind and body could bear it no longer, and her heart gave out. I have never seen the demon dog pursuing us, though I got word some months ago that Kilmore’s sister was found barefoot and in her nightgown in the woods, with her throat torn out by something.

“I hear padding now, though. Sometimes the growls. I know it has finally come for me. And even now I hear scratching at my door. Soon it will be inside.”

The clearing rang with silence. After a few minutes, Arthur cleared his throat again. “Unsurprisingly, that is where the journal stopped. There were more pages, but what wasn’t chewed was clearly blank. Termites, or mice maybe?”

I was astounded to hear Simon speak more calmly than I had ever known him to in my entire time on the Ark. “If Grandma Kim and Lyric suddenly decided to take a stroll in the woods, I am going home and none of you can stop me.”

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#the miys #halloween #found family #ghost stories #camping trip #original fiction #science fiction #original sci fi #original writing #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are crazy #hfy #aliens #apocalypse #post-apocalypse #humans in space

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illneverrecover · 5 years

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fade into you | kth (m)

➛pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader ➛genre: CEO!Taehyung, Boss!Taehyung, smut, fluff, pwp. ➛word count: 2084 ➛rating: explicit/mature ➛warnings: cursing, slight exhibition, fingering, very light choking, marking, unprotected sex, sex with feelings because Tae is a big softie. ➛summary: You were already sleeping with your boss (at the office, no less). Why not marry him as well? ➛notes: This is dedicated to the sweet & always lovely @la-vie-en-tae in celebration of her birthday. Happy birthday, Cara! I hope you enjoy <3 Thank you for always being so sweet & supportive! Also, this can be read as a continuation of a previous drabble of mine, Golden, but it’s not necessary to read it first. This is just basically porn with very minimal plot, just like mama likes it. ➛song: What is Love - EXO // Fade Into You - Sam Palladio and Clare Bowen

Meetings were the absolute worst.

They were always so dull, everyone shuffling around the table just to faux interest in whatever the topic may be and sneak glances at their cell phones under the table. The best part of yours was usually staring at your otherworldly attractive boss; the way his large hands would engulf the edge of the dark wood table, the tight strain of white crisp button down against the expanse of his golden chest, his intense amber stare as he scrutinized and took in every word shared.

You would get lost in him for the entirety of the meeting, eyes never leaving his lean form as he prowled around the room in his perfectly cut suit. He was a sight to be seen, and it was one of the best excuses to stare at him for 60 to 90 consecutive minutes without having to worry about any judgement.

However, today, your little game was different.

Because now when you looked at him, all you could think about what happened the day before. The way he had grasped at your thighs before sliding you up onto his desk, dropping to his knees. The way he nipped and bit at your inner thigh until you were muffling moans with your hand, the other tangled deep into midnight tresses. All you could see in your minds eye as you tried to focus on the man before you was the look on his face when he asked you to marry him, when he slid himself into you so hard that his teeth clattered before he lost himself to the pleasure and the crook of your neck.

Groaning, you cross and uncross your legs, trying to give yourself any form of relief - trying, and failing. This man had just fucked you so hard that your vision was still blurry days later, and yet you were still enraptured with all of the ways he could push you up onto this very table, claim you as his own in front of God and everyone.

Taehyung narrows his eyes at the slight movement, gaze dragging from your calves up to your apex slowly, licking his lips when he finally lands on your eyes. Arousal swims low in your belly, and you’re positive that you’re already so fucking wet that he would be able to just slide right inside of you with a single thrust.

Why did he have this power over you? What kind of demon was he?

Well that answer you did know. He was your personal demon. He was yours.

You hadn’t believed him when he first uttered the words, soft and needy against the column of your throat. Why would you? He was the CEO of this company, and you were just some nobody. Sure, a nobody he had been seeing for a few months, but that’s it. Nothing special, no grand titles or lofty aspirations. Just white hot chemistry and a deeper connection than you had anticipated with your boss.

And yet you knew, he wanted you. He only wanted you.

Letting your tongue dart out to wet your lips, you chance a look up at him as he continues his languid pace, a caged tiger in a glass case. His molten stare was on yours, on every single rise of your chest, and you could feel yourself drenching the thin fabric of your panties. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. You’d take him right here, company be damned-

“That’s all for today. Thank you all for coming, you’re dismissed - with the exception of Miss Y/N. Do you mind staying behind?”

You don’t bother answering, instead smiling with a quick bow, scanning the crowd as they filed out of the room.

Once you were alone, you wait for his next move, eyes watching his sultry stroll around the empty room.

“Was there something you needed from me, Mr. Kim?”

His answering growl had you shivering, and soon he was above you, palm cupping your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own. “There’s always something I need from you, love.”

His pupils were lust blown wide, impossibly black as he peered down at you. It had your throat tightening, swallowing difficult as air left your lungs like a summer breeze. “Oh yeah?” you simper, voice delicate and soft. “Like what?”

A tap at your chin had you rising before him, his arms snaking around your waist to press you hard against his chest. He nosed at your neck, breath hot as it ghosted your ear. “Well first, I need you to say yes to my proposal,”

You hum, eyes rolling back in your head as he nips at the lobe. “Then, I need you to marry me, to be my wife. Be by my side.”

A groan leaves your lips as he glides his way down to your chest, a small part of your brain reminding you that you were still in the conference room, surrounded by transparent walls in your place of employment. Even sleeping with the boss wouldn’t keep you safe from the rumors that would spread if you happened to be caught like this, yet somehow Taehyung always made you forget the risks.

“I already said yes to your proposal, you dork.” Head lolling forward, your hands clasp his cheeks and pull his face back in front of your own. “You have me, Taehyung. I’m yours,” you breathe, affection pouring from each word before your lips collide.

Taehyung always kissed you like he was starving, like sanctuary was only found alongside your tongue, soft and pliant and ready for him. Your knees shake at his passion, collapsing against his form and tugging at his collar so you could feel more, taste him deeper.

You whine when he pulls away, resisting the urge to yank him back to your mouth. A mischievous smirk was awaiting you when your eyes open.

“What, why did you stop? Is there something more?”

He chuckles, the sound gravelly and low, eyes dancing with mirth. “It just so happens there is. Are you willing to hear my proposition?”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but nod anyway. When he still doesn’t continue, you sigh. “Yes, Mr. Kim.”

A cocky grin was the last thing you saw before your back was pressed to the chilled top of the table, legs dangling over the side. You gasp, moving to sit up until he was stepping between your thighs, letting them fall open to accommodate his form. His hands start tracing patterns down your ribs, landing on the border of your skirt.

He leans forward, mouth inches from your own. “I want you to let me take you right here, in this room. Let me claim you where anyone could see or hear,” he drawls, lips skimming the skin of your jaw. “Let me show them all that you are mine.”

Any protests die in your throat when he latches to your collarbone, nipping and biting until the skin bloomed beneath his ministrations. You knew you should tell him no, that this was not the time nor the place, but you were weak. Weak, enraptured, and completely in love with the man who was unraveling you in a conference room on a Wednesday.

“Yes,” you moan, hands digging into the hair at his nape. “Yes, please.”

You feel him smile against your chest, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse so you were exposed to his greedy mouth. Too impatient to completely undress you, he pushes the cups of your bra down until each pebbled nipple revealed. You squeal when his heated tongue laps at one, fingers expertly rolling the other until your back is arching and your cunt throbbing.

Throwing your head to the side, you notice something through the haze of your lust. “Taehyung,” you whimper, tugging at his hair until he meets your eyes. “Taehyung, what about the glass-”

“Don’t worry, love. At a press of a button, we can make the world disappear.”

Reaching into his suit pocket, he grabs a small remote, clicking it once before tossing it onto a nearby chair, the jacket soon following. The glass quickly fogs into an opaque white, leaving you hidden.

“When were you going to tell me that you could do that?” you pout, pulling yourself up to rest on your elbows. The man before you just gives you a shit eating grin, hands tugging to loosen his belt.

“When the time was right,” he murmurs, undoing his slacks until you could see his length straining against the black of his briefs. Your mouth waters at the sight, legs rising to circle his hips and pull him back towards you.

“You’re insufferable.”

He pushes you flat against the table, large palm pressing against the tender skin of your throat lightly before trailing down your body, leaving heat in his wake before his hands snake up your skirt. “You’re beautiful. And mine,”

He slides off your ruined panties quickly, like it pained him to be away from your center any longer than necessary. Trailing his fingers up your slit, he groans at the slick of your arousal. “I need to be inside you.”

His voice spurs you into action, your hands grasping to free his hardened length, giving the tip a gentle sweep of your thumb. “I need you too, Taehyung.”

You cry out his name when he finally pushes himself inside your heat, nails digging into his golden shoulders as you flush his body to yours. The burn of the stretch has you simpering, his cock splitting you wide as he slid home. He pauses, letting the pain ebb into pleasure, before slamming into you once more, pace feverish. His thrusts were ruthless, hips snapping into yours until the room was filled with the lewd sounds of skin on skin under a cacophony of moans.

Despite the assault, all you could think was that you wanted more, wanted him deeper. He was the sweetest poison, his body the most seductive weapon. His eyes never left your own, reverent and dripping with emotion as he watched your reactions to his touch; drinking them in. He was in your heart, in your arms, inside of you. Taehyung was completely under your skin and you weren’t sure where you end and where he begins - and yet you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Teeth sinking into his lip, you whine into his mouth when he brushes the tender spot inside of you, veins engulfing into flame when he continues to fuck into it until it forces your eyes close.

“Look at me.”

It was an order - or it was meant to be, but the softness of the words contradict the bite. You meet his gaze, all depthless amber, the band low in your gut poised to snap. “Look at me when you come on my cock.”

With a poignant grind of his pelvis, his words have you teetering over the edge, his name spilling out as you reach your peak. He fucks you through it, undulating slowly until your body slows its shivering and your walls stop squeezing against him.

Humming, he leans down to press his lips against yours before picking up his pace, murmuring praise through your over sensitivity. He was close and you could tell, and the idea of him giving into his desires to finish inside of you had you clenching.

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning forward to suckle at the juncture of his shoulder, wanting to leave something of yourself visible on him, too. “Come for me.”

His fingers are bruising when they grasp your hips, steadying so he could slam into you harder. Curses mix with broken sounds of your name as he finally spills inside your aching core, forehead pressed to your own. He stutters through a few more pumps, making sure every drop of his seed remained deep inside before stopping, collapsing against you.

Automatically your hands raise to card through his sweat tinged locks, pulling him until he was nuzzled tightly against you. As the lust wore off, you feel the sharp edges of glass digging into your thighs, the way your ribs ached against the unforgiving wood of the conference table - but with Taehyung, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You never could.

“So,” he pants, tongue wetting his lips. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

You laugh then, chest heaving until you could feel the low rumbles of him joining you, plump lips grinning against flushed skin.

“Of course, Mr. Kim.”

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a-duck-with-a-book · 3 years

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REVIEW // Seven Blades in Black (The Grave of Empires #1) by Sam Sykes

★☆☆☆☆

Disclaimer: while I was reading this book, I found out that Sam Sykes has been accused by numerous women of sexual harassment. You can find more information about it below: - a post listing several accusations of misconduct - twitter post responding to the situation - one of the accusations against Sam Sykes - his quickly-deleted apology Suffice to say, I have no intention of continuing this series or reading any more of his books.

I have a lot to say about this novel, so I’ll begin by making a quick bullet point list outlining what I liked and disliked:

Liked:

Cavric <3

Lisette deserved better

Some interesting concepts in the world building

Disliked:

Sal as a narrator

Sal as an antihero

Sal as a person in general

Writing style

Constant interruptions

Meandering narrative

The “narrator knows something but the writer avoids revealing it until the end for the drama” trope

This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy

Lesbians written by a man who harasses women

Unnecessarily long

// image: official cover art Jeremy Wilson //

Let’s begin with the full review by starting with the (few) positives, shall we?

First and foremost, I genuinely enjoyed Cavric and Lisette. It is unfortunate that they had to deal with Sal for the entirety of the novel, but we’ll get to her later. If this book had been a buddy adventure with these two, in which Cavric slowly shows Lisette that she is in a toxic relationships and deserves to move on and find someone better for herself, I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more. Secondly (and finally), Sykes introduced some genuinely interesting world building. The background of the Empire and the Scar was fascinating to read, but unfortunately did not save the rest of this mess.

Alright now let’s rant.

I have 35 notes and 52 highlights from this book, so this might get block quote heavy. (Go check out my notes if you want to see me slowly lose my sanity)

Sal is awful. I know she’s meant to be awful, but she’s not flawed in the way that I think Sykes was trying to write her. I believe she was intended to be a scruffy, lovable antihero who fought her way through a dangerous landscape with her sharp blade and even sharper tongue. A girl who had wrongs committed against her in the past, who did terrible things but is now on the road to an epic redemption arc. She shoots bad guys, she says f*ck and a*s a lot, and she is morally complex. That’s the character that Sykes was trying to make. The one he created, however, is a genuinely terrible person who I had no desire to see come out on top. I have a myriad of issues with her, but let’s outline a couple below: (1) She is incredibly toxic for Lisette. Am I getting a bit too heated about a fictional relationship? Sure. Was I happy to read a toxic lesbian romance written by a man who sexually harasses women? Nope. It kind of grossed me out, actually. Anyway, let me give you a run down of their relationship. Sal arrives. Sal and Lisette sleep together. Sal asks Lisette to give her weapons and or fix things for her. Sal sneaks away, telling herself no good will come of this relationship and they will only cause each other pain. Sal needs something. Sal comes back. Repeat over and over. She constantly says, throughout the book, that it would be better if they just left each other, but then again Sal is the one who goes back to Lisette over and over, causing her renewed heartbreak. I don’t know if Sykes thought that simply making Sal aware of how terrible this behavior was was enough, but it just made me incredibly frustrated. At one point Sal says:

”Intellect like hers is a curse. The more you understand of the world, the less of it you trust.”

Yes, Sal, that’s what’s giving her trust issues. Her intelligence. Nice. By the end of the book, it seems that they are on the mend-I’m getting end-game vibes from these two. But honestly, I spent the entire time thinking that Lisette deserved so much better than Sal. Like literally a chicken would have provided healthier companionship. I’ll end with this quote, in which Lisette outlines perfectly why Sal does not deserve her:

“What am I doing wrong that you’d choose this over me?”

(2) Sal is annoying. Really, really annoying. I kid you not, half of this book is made up of Sal’s snarky comments. She is badass. She has a gun. She is an outlaw. And she will never, EVER shut up about it. Imagine a quirky line after an otherwise dark or action-packed sequence. Funny, right? Might break the tension, make the narrator more endearing, etc. Now imagine one such line after every. Single. Paragraph. Picture a violent battle scene where the protagonist is fighting for their lives against a ruthless opponent. Now insert a snarky comment after every other paragraph and watch the entire flow of the scene fall apart with constant interruptions. That’s what this book is-which brings me to my next point.

The writing isn’t great. There are constant interruptions, meandering narratives, and the trope that haunts me in nearly every dark fantasy novel I read-This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy-is shoved repeatedly in your face. Let’s start with the interruptions, returning to my previous point (ie. Sal never shuts up), by looking at this sequence:

I followed the shrieking wind. I had come here prepared for something bad. But I wasn’t prepared for just how bad it was. I rounded the corner of the hall, came out atop a battlement. The wind struck me with a screaming gale, forcing me to shield my face and cling to the stone for purchase. My eyes squinted against the harshness of the light, the kind of offensive pale you only see in your nightmares. And through them, I could see the bowed shapes of towers sagging, the flayed flesh of banners whipping in a wind that wouldn’t cease, the shadows of figures frozen in a death that had brought no peace. And I knew where I was. There was nothing that had ever made Fort Dogsjaw special. It had never been crucial for defense, never a hub for trade, it hadn’t even been named for anything special—the commander just liked the sound of it. It lived its whole life a regular, boring Imperial fort on the edge of the Husks. It only got important at the time of its death. Over three hundred mages and a few thousand regulars had assembled here in one day—some to receive assignments, some to man the garrison, some to head back to Cathama on leave. They had been laughing, cursing, drinking when the news came that the new Emperor of Cathama was a nul, born with no magic. And then there had been a moment of silence.

I’ve bolded for emphasis, but do you see what I’m talking about? The paragraph-line-paragraph-line format is so annoying to read, I had to put the book down at certain points because of how frustrated I got. It interrupted the forward movement of the story, making the novel drag on and on.

You know what else makes this feel like the nightmare version of the Never-ending Story? The page count. I don’t mind long books-The Priory of the Orange Tree is one of my favorite reads so far this year, and it’s longer than this one-but they have to have a reason for being so hefty. As I mentioned earlier, a considerable chunk of Seven Blades of Black is Sal making her awful, awful, AWFUL asides. I literally cannot express how much I despise those comments. Okay, let’s move on before I get hung up on THOSE STUPID COM-*cough*

This novel is marred by unnecessary lines and a meandering plot that drag out the story. One instance is the amount of times that Sal is a second away from killing someone and, for some reason (usually not a good one), fails in her goal. She places a gun at someone’s head and goes through a whole monologue in her head until the person miraculously escapes. This type of subversion of expectations is fine every once in a while, but if you are going to build up to a crucial moment and then take away the satisfaction of the defeat of some villain (or mini-boss, as many of the antagonists in this book feel like), then you need to have a good reason for doing it upwards of twenty times in ONE BOOK. Secondly, if you spend almost the entire novel setting up more and more villains and stressing how hard they are to kill and how dangerous their powers are (and presenting them separately and isolated), then when you have them all in one place at the end, at which point the protagonists starts going through them like a plate of french fries at a seagull convention, then you’re kind of taking away the satisfaction of the death. Somehow, this book manages to do both. We are constantly teased with almost-kills, then at the end Sal just blows through everyone in five seconds, easy-peasy.

I’m almost done, I swear-just two more gripes.

So much of the tension of this book rests on the fact that Sal, our narrator and our main viewpoint into the story, knows something that we don’t. I’ll be upfront with you-I hate this trope. If our POV character, the one whose mind we are in constantly, is entirely aware of something that happened before the beginning of the novel, and the author keeps from revealing that something for the entirety of the story solely to add drama, then I will not be a happy reader. Where is the logic. We are in this person’s mind. Just show us already and add tension ELSEWHERE.

And FINALLY (as painful as it was for you to read this, it was worse for me to write it), another issue I have with a lot of dark fantasy (see my review of Nevernight) is that the author really, really wants us to know that this is an incredibly dangerous and dark world by filling it to the brim with edge lord narrators, Big Guns, and, usually, women being harrased-because why not force all your female readers to constantly have to read about women getting assaulted? Apart from Sal’s 300,000 comments explaining to us that she is an asshole, that the Scar is Dangerous, and that she has Killed A Lot of People, we as readers must sit through hundreds of lines of dialogue and exposition that beat us over the head with the fact that this is DARK fantasy. This isn’t your nice little fairy adventure-no sir. Here we have Swear Words and Violence and Men writing Queer Women. To emphasize just how blatant Sykes is with the dark part of dark fantasy, let me tell you about an exchange Sal has with three old ladies who run a criminal empire. In the 2-3 pages that these women appear in, we are told, in some form or other, that they are grandmas who kill people, a grand total of, I kid you not, ELEVEN TIMES. Here are some excerpts from that whole situation:

”“Now, now.” Yoc, old and white haired and sweet as a grandmother—if that grandmother also had people killed on the regular—smiled at me. “I’m sure she has a good reason for being here.” She raised the hand that had signed the contracts that had killed a thousand men and women and took up her whiskey glass. “After all, I’m sure she knows how much we don’t like having our game interrupted.”” *I counted this as one since it’s in the same exchange but technically he mentions it TWICE

”…one didn’t waste the Three’s time if one didn’t want to end up with their teeth pried out.”

”How often do you meet the three old ladies who have people killed for money?”

”I said we should kill her on principle.”

”“But you know how many orphans I’ve made, don’t you, dear?””

”“He’s not so unlike us, is he? A murderer, yes. A monster to some. But, at his heart, a businessman.”

”Theirs were the hands that signed a thousand death contracts a year.”

”When they could be bothered to look up from their game, they decided who lived and died with a stroke of their pen.”

”At a word, they could have me stripped, tied, tortured, and cut up…”

”the Three don’t lie. Their assassins do. Their thieves do. But they don’t.”

”I had already wasted their time and I knew the Three were being generous just letting me fuck off instead of having me killed for the effort.”

TL;DR - Sal is annoying, Sykes is a bad writer, and Someone should have stopped me from reading this book

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