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daughterofcain-67 · 6 months

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𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱6)

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Sam and Castiel lock Dean up after his attempt to kill Gadreel and they search to find a way to Metatron. Meanwhile you find yourself worried about Dean's progression with the mark and how it has effected him. After convincing you to let him out, Dean summons Crowley and the three of you find a way to locate Metatron.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Based on Season 9 episode 23 - major spoilers ahead. Death of a character.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫‘𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hey guys, so this chapter was a bit longer than the others and I got a little carried away with this one but I hope you enjoy!

Then...

Dean saw Gadreel and he was already on the verge of seeing nothing but red. He was the man that killed Kevin. He possessed Sam for the longest time. Now was the worst time for him to come waltzing into the bunker.

"I mean no harm." Gadreel began.

"I've thought about what you said, and you're right." He continued but it was clear that everyone in the bunker was on their guard.

"Metatron is.. Something must be done. I can give him to you, I know where he is." He said

"The bombers? Those were his agents, not yours." He said as he looked at Castiel. "I understand if you don't trust me, and I understand. But we have all made mistakes. I know I have made many. But please, give me a chance."

Dean was still so unsure about this and he honestly wasn't sure if they should take this chance. If Gadreel thought about double crossing them then...

Well, Dean walked over and offered Gadreel his hand to shake. But instead of this handshake being one that stood for an alliance, Dean pulled the First Blade from behind his back again and slashed Gadreel in the chest.

Your eyes widened when you saw Sam and Dean holding Dean back and you could tell that Dean was so far from done when it came to this specific angel.

Now...

Dean was severely pissed off that Gadreel was in the Bunker. He hated that Cass and Sam seemed to be willing to work with him after everything Gadreel put all of them through. Dean had already nearly lost his relationship with Sam over the possession fiasco. None of this felt right and he just wanted them to hurry up and find out where the Hell Metatron would be.

What was making everything so much worse was that Sam and Castiel insisted on putting Dean in the dungeon where they put Crowley. Was it really necessary to put him on lockdown like he himself was a demon or some other kind of prisoner?! They needed to come up with a plan now that Castiel lost his army. Yet Sam was insisting on locking up the only one that can tank the stupid sonofa bitch!

His mind going everywhere at once. And it didn’t help that he was feeling nauseated since Sam took the blade away.

His arm was killing him, and typically distracted himself from it with by drinking. But his bottle of Jack was already emptied and they hadn’t gone back for more, and so was the six pack they just bought. He wished Cass hadn’t knocked him out with his stupid angelic mojo that he had. Then he could take out every bad thing that’s every happened to him and Sam out on Gadreel as much as he wanted to. He hated that he was being put on the bench right now while everyone was recuperating until they find where Metatron was.

He heard the locks turning on the doors but he was caught by surprise when he glanced up and saw you coming through the door.

“What do you want?”

“To check on you. Is that a crime now, Mr. Dictator?”

Dean sighed a little, gathering you heard what he told Sam before Gadreel came onto the scene. He realized that you didn’t wait on him to tell you to shut the door, or to have a seat next to him on the concrete floor despite the devil’s trap painted all around.

“You haven’t exactly been much help lately. I thought that was the whole point of Sam asking you to come along.” Dean said with a little grumble.

“And when exactly have we had the time to actually sit down and talk so I can try? All you’ve done the past day and a half or so since I’ve met you was argue with your brother, then the angel, then you went and caught a reaper then proceeded to kill her.” He rolled his eyes at your little tangent.

“I didn’t kill her. For the last damned time she threw herself into the blade.”

“That’s another thing. You had an agreement with your brother and it was pretty shitty of you to break that deal just because of the stupid mark. And you damn well know that too.”

“Are you done lecturing me? You’re not my mother.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I’m not done.” You answered and he grunted with frustration. “If you’re so mad at the world, then why don’t you be mature about this damned mark and use it properly instead of tossing yourself into the fire or throwing stupid tantrums like a damned child?”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.”

“You are. Your brother is worried about you and we’ve talked about that before. And I can tell you care about Sam too. But more importantly, I know you’ve been trying not to become the person you’re turning into. Cain warned you of the great cost of this mark. And everyone around you can tell that it is really changing you. But no one else can see how it’s affecting you physically.” You said and he looked at you.

When he looked at you, he could tell that there was something off about you - for a demon that is. You kind of reminded him of Crowley when he had a taste of human blood. It was weird that you were bringing up his brother in all of this, weird that you were trying to reason with him. Or maybe all of this was some big lie and you were working with Crowley just to get the blade.

“And how exactly am I supposed to ‘properly’ use it without it feeling like Hell all the time?”

“First.. tell me how you’re feeling. Right now.”

He lifted a brow and he hadn’t expected that to be the first remark about this whole thing. He looked down at his arm and oddly enough, when he thought about it, his mark wasn’t burning, itching, or driving him quite as crazy as it’s been since he got it. It’s like every time you’re near, like he’s discovered before, it was like a sense of calm similar to what the blade gave him when he held it.

“It’s… better than it’s been in the past I suppose.”

“Okay.. Is it the same feeling you get with the First Blade?” He nodded.

“I know that with this mark, it makes you irritated, easily angry almost all of the time. It makes you yearn for some kind of relief like a drug and killing is the only way to make the pain completely go and you’re on a high. I still go through it even if I’ve been in hiding all this time. I know you didn’t want to talk about it while we were in Castiel’s headquarters but… now’s a good a time as any now that it’s just this group right?” Dean supposed he couldn’t deny any of this.

“Do you trust me?” You asked him, causing Dean to look at you.

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Trust is kind of an iffy word for everyone right now, you know.”

“Well yeah, being a demon doesn’t help. But I mean with this whole mark thing.” Dean thought about it for a moment and he shrugged.

“I guess so, considering…”

“I need to know just how far you’ve developed with the mark. And.. the only way I can really do that is kind of with a mind meld.”

“You mean the thing shifters do? No, I don’t think so.” He heard you groan with clear aggravation and he lifted a brow.

“Dean, do you want my help or not?”

Dean was about to argue but his head started to ache and he ended up giving in, not really wanting to put up a fight. The next thing he knew, he could feel your hand on his head.

When you placed your hand on his head, you basically had a recap of everything leading up to Dean getting the mark and the aftermath of it. It was like a montage if anything.

You saw that he was working with Crowley first behind Sam’s back to kill Abaddon. You saw when they went to the bee farm where Cain resided and you could feel the instant that Dean got the mark. The sensation and adrenaline rush was something indescribable. Then there was the first time he held the First Blade in his hands. The moment that Dean knew he couldn’t be stopped. You saw the first time that he killed with it, then the next time, then the time he finally got to kill your mother.

That sight was something to behold for you. You saw just how powerful Dean was becoming with the mark since he was able to withstand the force Abaddon had when she tried to pin him against the wall. You could see Dean walk to the Knight of Hell and it took one stab through the abdomen to kill her. But it wasn’t enough. You could feel how the mark overtook Dean and he straddled the Knight, stabbing her over and over again until his hand was soaked with red and his face and clothes were covered with blood. The overkill was too much, yet so satisfying for him and he needed that release up until Sam got him to stop.

Now it was at the point where you could see why Dean felt the need to take the blade everywhere with him.

When you took your hand away and you looked at Dean, you could see that his face was getting pale. He got up and ran to the corner of the room, causing you to cringe when Dean practically spilled his guts in the corner. You looked away as you heard him coughing up whatever he ate and when it was over, you looked over at him and he was looking at himself in the mirror you didn’t know was there.

You saw the look of worry in his face and when you squinted, you saw the red on the corner of his lips before he used his sleeve to wipe up the blood as best as he could from his mouth.

“So… Crowley was the one that got you into this hole Cain mess, huh?” You asked.

“Oh bite me.” He grumbled and you watched Dean gather some supplies.

“What are you doing?”

“Grabbing the shit I need to talk to Crowley. He's the one that got me into this damned mess, so he can tell me what’s going on with me.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m right here, and I could always tell you so you don’t have to go running off with the guy you want to kill again.” You reminded.

You watched Dean turn his head towards you before he sighed and walked over. He sat down in front of you while you were still in the devil’s trap.

“I can’t turn whatever this is off. Ever since Abaddon… I need to kill. It’s more than just that junkie kind of feeling now. It’s constantly eating at me and if I don’t kill-“

“You find your guts are being vomited out.”

“Thanks for putting it lightly.” He rolled his eyes and you sighed at how stubborn he was.

“You’re in this pretty deep, Dean. Honestly I don’t know how much help I can be at this point. You guys should have come sooner.” You sight before continuing.

“All of this is because of the mark. I can tell you that much. The mark wants you to kill, it’s trying to take control in a way. The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill… well you get the idea from exhibit A.” You said and pointed at the disgusting puddle in the corner. “And if you don’t I’m afraid that you’ll.. well…”

“Die? You’re not dead, and neither is Cain.”

“The difference is that dear old Dad and I are demons, remember? You’re human… The blade is an unbelievably powerful thing for any mortal. Your body is just not strong enough to take in all that power.”

“What so you’re saying I can’t handle this Metatron thing?” He asked getting on the defensive and you rolled your eyes.

“No, dumbass. No human is able to contain that much power. It’s nothing personal. Hell if it didn’t effect humans this bad I’s say you’re one of the best candidates out there. Cain knew what he was doing when he gave you his curse.”

Then you could see the wheels turning in Dean’s mind. You tilted your head and wondered what he was thinking about. Was it the thought of dying that was holding him back? Was he wondering if Sam would bother to bring him back after this mess?

“What if I got rid of it?”

The fact that dean came up with that thought sort of surprised you. You weren’t sure if he really meant what he asked or if he just didn’t want to barf up his intestines again. This was a side of Dean you hadn’t come across yet and you had to admit, it was a little worrisome. Even for you.

“Is that something you actually want?” You asked.

“What I want is Metatron dead… that’s the main priority. Then everything else we can get sorted out later. But I need you to help me out.”

You gazed up at the green-eyed hunter and you knew that this probably wouldn’t end well with his never-ending sibling drama. A part of you knew he may die, whether its because of Metatron or because of the mark if Sam an Dean couldn’t get it off in time since that was a seemingly new idea for Dean. But you knew how important this Metatron case was for the boys.

You sighed and you stood up, “Well, you can’t expect me to help you if I’m in the devil’s trap, can you?”

And for the first time since you’ve met the man, Dean smirked. It wasn’t a smile, but it was close enough. It was odd being smiled at by a hunter. But you watched him break out his pocket knife and scrape the floor so you had a way out.

“While you’re at it, you might as well summon Crowley now too. I’ve got a couple of bones to pick with him myself.”

Then you disappeared from Dean’s sight.

You and Dean made it out of the Bunker only to realize that Sam, Castiel and Gadreel were gone. So you took the opportunity to take the blade and flee the Bunker. Although you didn't like the fact that Crowley was sitting in the Impala with you and Dean on the way to wherever the Winchester planned on driving to.

Dean's phone was going off yet again and you knew that it was Dean. You knew how concerned that Sam was and you hoped that Dean knew what he was doing. What if they were coming up with a different plan and Dean wasn't there to hear it?

You, Dean and Crowley made it to Dean's little destination of sorts. Another bar - big surprise there. But you all stepped out of the car, Dean had the blade in one hand and a laptop tucked beneath his arm.

You sat down at the table quietly as Dean opened up his laptop and initially, Dean only ordered a coffee. But then Crowley rambled about something you didn't care to pay attention. But the King of Hell convinced Dean to at least order something to eat. Although you weren't sure if he'd actually eat based on you witnessing him getting sick back in that little dungeon.

"So... you actually exist." Crowley said, shifting his small talk to you since Dean was being mostly unresponsive and too focused on his computer screen since Sam wasn't here to do the research for him.

"Yeah. Can't say the same for two of your demons. Thanks for that by the way." You said spitefully.

You watched the suit wearing demon with the accent lean back in his chair, more intrigued with you rather than fearful of you.

"Forgive me. I needed your assistance with something but I see Moose and Squirrel got to you first."

"Moose and wha-"

"Dumb pet names he calls Sam and me." Dean answered without looking up and you hummed.

"Oh... Well yeah. Your little 'Moose' and the angel I assume had the idea to find me." You replied to the other demon.

"Now, why the Hell were you looking for me? You already got Dean into this mess with Cain, you even got him involved with the First Blade."

"I told you, I needed some assistance. Wanting some information on the blade and see what you knew about it when it effects the humans. I may or may not have been planning to tell you where the blade was, send you to the Winchesters so you could reclaim the blade."

"Oh yay, love a good betrayal." You rolled your eyes. "But we're sort of set on killing Metatron if you couldn't tell."

"Yes, of course. I can see that." The King said before he tilted his head a little, "Although I have wondered, why have you decided to go into hiding like your father. Especially now that your mother is dead. It isn't like her demons will be able to bring you back to Hell so why stay in hiding?"

"Remanences of my teen rebellion I guess. Didn't want to go back because all she wanted me for was to kill Cain with the First Blade. Never did, obviously. Never went back because I didn't want to care enough to go back. If I wanted to torture demons or other souls for the hell of it, I could summon demons, angels, I can hunt monsters or whatever I want to. I've stayed away from humans because well, their disappearances draw too much attention." You said and you smirked for a moment.

"Although, killing you next might be fun since the hunter's got the claim on Metatron."

"Well anyway, what about you, Dean? Is this what you and Sam do all the time? Just go to bars and search for cases? Maybe partake in the local... entertainment?"

You saw Dean glare at the other demon over the laptop.

"Don't you ever wonder if there's more than just this?" Crowley looked back at Dean and he shrugged a little, "I kicked the human blood."

"Oh so you're back to being a full metal douche, huh? You want a teddy bear or a cookie?"

"Just trying to make conversation, Squirrel."

"How's Hell, Crowley?" He asked and looked at the King of the underworld, clearly not genuinely giving a crap about whatever the answer would be.

"Hell's fine... Like a Swiss watch. Don't worry about it."

Then there were a few seconds of silence where Dean looked at Crowley with a skeptical look on his face and you lifted a brow slightly.

"Hell's complicated."

"No no no, Game of Thrones is complicated. Hell's not complicated. Shower sex, not that's complicated, don't get me started, but Hell? No, that's not complicated. The only problem Hell has is you."

You were caught up with the line about human blood. Demons could take human blood? How did it effect a demon?

"Wait, demons can be injected with human blood? How the hell does that work" You asked, interrupting their conversation.

"Same as injecting heroine really. It acts like a drug. You can cure a demon and when my brother was on a task to close the gates of Hell he had to do some trials and one of them was to cure a demon." Dean answered and you looked at the hunter with surprise.

Curing a demon? That was something you had never heard of and that idea was... interesting in a way. You weren't sure if you wanted to test that on yourself but the idea made you curious.

Anyway, while Dean and Crowley talked about what was going on with Metatron and Dean's plans, other demons came along and you lifted a brow when they brought a phone to Crowley.

"Well, now... looks like your angel has gone viral." The King of Hell said and he handed the phone over to Dean.

You scooted your chair over and leaned in so you could see the video, and there he was. That toad-faced bastard was on YouTube and evidently a woman almost died. Or maybe she was dead. Then Metatron came and healed her and he whispered something in the woman's ear. When someone asked who he was, he gave Marv as his name.

When the video was done you put your chair back where it was, "What the hell kind of a name is Marv?" You asked and leaned back against the chair, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You think this is funny?" Dean asked you, but you brushed him off.

"This was taken a few hours ago in Indiana." Crowley interrupted and that was when Dean shut the laptop and started to get up.

"Woah woah woah, you aren't going to eat your food?" Crowley asked. You watched Dean toss a couple of dollars on the table.

"Not hungry."

You watched Dean leave the bar and you sighed a little before you got off the chair but then you felt a hand on your arm. You turned while Crowley looked at you.

"Why are you insistent on staying? You know you can't help the lad. You could leave now and no one could blame you. You and I both know you don't care enough of this whole mess to kill Metatron with the blade, so it is still Dean's quest. So why stay if you can't give him any advice on the mark after all?"

You looked at the short, balding demon, "I don't owe you any kind of explanation for what I do."

You shrugged your arm away and the two of you went to follow Dean and you climbed into the passenger's seat.

He did give you a little food for thought, though.

Why did you decide to stay? He was right, you gave Dean the necessary information he could get for his progression with the mark. The brothers were a little too late in finding you to prevent his condition from getting worse, so you could have left forever ago.

Somewhere down the line, Crowley was able to locate where the woman in the YouTube video lived. So now the three of you were riding along in Dean's car to that location.

You glanced over at Dean since you were in the passenger's seat beside him. You felt something strange towards him and it wasn't because of the mark. It was something in your chest but it wasn't making you happy. It was sort of making you feel some sort of pity for this man.

What would happen if he failed? He would never be the same again. He would lose everything now that he was on this path. You wondered if that was why he was set on following through with this without Sam.

The thought of all of this was honestly making you ache and you forced yourself to look away and you looked through the windshield.

Dean could feel your gaze on him and he didn't like whatever feeling it was giving him that went along with your look. He didn't like feeling pitied by demons. Especially not one like you.

He couldn't wait to get this thing with Metatron over with. But he knew the potential cost of this thing. He knew that this wouldn't be easy, and he knew that his little brother may hate him for this.

He didn't expect for his brother to bring him back.. not this time. Not after all the lies Dean told Sam about Gadreel in the past. Not after all the arguments they've been having lately. Not after trying to bring Sam back when he wasn't ready to come back.

There were times, rare moments but enough to make Dean wonder, if Dean should have even made Sam help him look for their father all those years ago.

Sam was going to college, he had a life lined up for him. Dean knew that he messed it all up by going to get Sam that day. But he didn't want to do this alone. He knew that he probably would not have lived this long if it wasn't for Sammy.

Dean looked at you for a moment while you were seemingly focused on the road ahead of them and he noticed your brows seemed to be knitted together. Could you be worried about something? What did someone like you have to be worried about.

The hunter's jaw tensed before he looked out of the windshield again before he reached beside him and held one of your hands.

He'd noticed that whenever you two had touched hands it brought calm for him and he wondered if you could feel that way too.

"Look... I'm sorry you got roped into all this thanks to Sam. Nobody asked you to stay but... thanks for sticking around anyway."

He could tell with his peripheral vision that you looked at him yet again. Then he could feel you clasp his hand with the one he was already holding.

"It's not like I had anywhere else to be. Besides, Metatron sounds like a dick-bag and I want to see how this ends." He heard you say, causing him to grin a little. it had been a while since he had been able to grin or smile. It was a nice change, even if it would be short lived.

He didn't know what was going on with him, but was it wrong to feel this way for a demon? Maybe it was just the mark and the fact that you had one too. Maybe it was the fact that only you could truly understand what he was going through and you've been the only one outside of the blade to make him feel steady.

He was sure as Hell that this wasn't anything like love. Just an infatuation he supposed. An interest that would go nowhere, especially with a demon. He got enough shit from even working with Crowley.

He gave your hand a slight squeeze before letting go and he placed his hand on the wheel again, focusing on the road.

Finally, Dean pulled up to the trailer where their new lead lived but unfortunately he saw Sam there undoubtedly waiting for them.

Dean stepped out of the car and for some reason, Crowley did too.

"Well, it doesn't take demons to follow a lead. Remember? We used to be pretty good without them." Sam said, causing Dean to scowl again.

"If this is some kind of intervention again, Sammy, you know it's not gonna work. I know what i have to do and you aren't going to stop me whether I like it or not."

"Alright, alright. I know you don't want to be stopped or you think you can't be stopped or whatever. But did you really have to summon Crowley for all this? You're better than that, Dean, and you know that."

"He wasn't the one that was trying to lock me up! Or did you already forget about that? I swear the hair product shit you use must be doing something with that memory of yours."

"Um, hello! Can you guys stop the bickering or five seconds so we can focus here?!" Both the boys heard you shout from the other side of the car and Sam sighed.

"Look, I know that our options are limited, Dean. And, and I know that you're our best shot." Sam began, trying to be open minded and see if Dean was willing to cooperate with him.

"You wanna know what Metatron said to the lady in the video right?" Dean nodded, "I'll tell you but we have to get one thing straight. You and I are in this together, no more running off with the King of Hell."

"Ouch, I'm right here, Moose." Crowley piped up and Dean looked over at the demon, then back at his brother.

Dean turned around and looked at Crowley and he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and told Crowley rather bluntly, "Look, Crowley, you once told me that you were tired of being on this hamster wheel. So this is your ticket off."

When you saw the look on Crowley's face, he seemed almost hurt in a way.

"Ahh... I see. I suppose I've been Winchester'd." He said and the King looked at you.

"Don't get overly attached to these two. They'll use you up and spit you out. they're worse than the demons I command." He warned you, then with the snap of a finger he was gone.

You looked from where Crowley was standing to the two boys. Then you looked at Dean. He took a step towards you and you clenched your jaw before shutting the door.

"Don't bother contradicting what he said, Dean." You said, you could see him freeze in his tracks.

"Y/N, it's not like that. Crowley's been an eternal pain in the ass since we met the guy and he's been on out hit list for years." Dean began and you interrupted him.

"Oh so if I prove not to be useful, I'll be next? Not that fighting a Winchester doesn't sound interesting, especially since I know I'd win even without the blade, but now it doesn't even seem worth the effort anymore." You said.

"You said yourself, I didn't have to stay. Honestly I don't know why I did."

"Y/N, wait-" Sam called out but by the time he could try to intervene and both the boys walked over to try and talk to you.

Your eyes glowed red and you held out your hand, causing them to freeze in their tracks and cringe with pain. Seeing them in pain was exhilarating for you. The deepest and darkest part of you was even enjoying this because it had been so long since you had brought pain to humans. Their lives were in your hands in that very moment.

However, you knew that their task was important. You knew that is was so you released them from your grasp.

"Don't look for me. Either of you."

After those words, you were gone.

Dean had remained quiet the entire drive to the next known location of Metatron. Sam had filled him in on Castiel and Gadreel's plan in Heaven and that they needed him to simply stall. That he thought he'd be able to do. Then his mind drifted.

He was replaying that afternoon's events over and over again, wondering how they could have been different.

He barely had the chance to explain that he wanted you to stay. Judging by the way Sam tried to step in, he may have wanted you to stay too. He couldn't deny that he and his brother did have a reputation of using demons. But they used humans just as much!

"You alright?" Dean heard his brother ask.

He lifted a brow and glanced at Sam for a moment before looking at the road again.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean about Y/N." Sam began.

"I mean, I know that you've been on edge lately before she came around, and you were still on edge even after she came around but... You sort of seemed to have some kind of level headed moments. Even if you didn't kill Tessa."

Dean was stunned that Sam was talking about Tessa again, even more shocked that he seemed to finally believe that he didn't kill Tessa after all.

"It's a part of life, Sam. People come and go. I'll be fine." Dean said.

"You will be, but you aren't right now. What if we found some way to track her like you and Crowley did with Cain?" Sam suggested and Dean gripped his steering wheel.

"Will you just drop it already!? You and Cass were the ones that brought her into our lives in the first place! We've already pissed her off and I'm not going to have her kill us just because she left and we looked for her when she told us to stay away."

When Sam went quiet, Dean sighed before speaking again.

"Let's just focus on killing Metatron. Then.. if you want to go looking for Y/N again, then fine." He compromised.

The truth was, though, he wasn't sure if he'd live long enough to go looking for Y/N. If this mark was going to kill him, he knew that Metatron had to be the priority. He didn't know how much longer he had left even if he wanted to look for you.

Soon enough, Sam and Dean pulled up to the location and they got out of the car.

When the brothers made their way to the trunk, Dean opened it up and he thought about it for a moment while he stared at the tools and weapons.

"Listen Sam... about these past few months.."

"I know... It's been a lot, but we're okay." Sam reassured, knowing his big brother had never been fond of chick-flick moments. Then Sam took the First blade and he handed it to Dean.

"Now before we find some other thing to fight about, you ready to fight this son of a bitch?" Before Sam could get an answer, all he saw was black.

Dean watched his brother fall and he lowered his arm after knocking his brother out.

"Sorry, Sammy... this isn't your fight."

You had been following the Impala for the last several hours.

Yes you were still hurt at the idea that maybe one day they'd only use you up like they did Crowley, but you meant what you told Dean in the car. You wanted to see how this ends and you wanted to see Metatron dead just as much as they did.

You watched over Dean as he walked through the alley full of the homeless people Metatron was trying to impress. You still thought Marv was a stupid name.

You watched Dean finally find Metatron and you could feel what Dean was feeling. You could feel the anticipation the mark was giving him and the urge to slit his throat there. He didn't look like a difficult target.

Dean and Metatron were down there trash talking since you were upstairs watching below. You couldn't really hear what the two were saying but whatever it was, you could tell that this guy was getting on Dean's last nerve.

You could hear snippets of Dean and Metatron going back and forth about how Metatron was nothing but a fake, something about God not truly caring enough for humanity but Metatron knew every human's name. There was something about Dean commenting about Metatron having his name on every bumper sticker and replacing God's name in the Bible. then there was something about Metatron asking Dean of he could blame him for some kind of recognition.

You could tell how angry that made Dean when he started blaming Metatron for different deaths of who you presumed were Dean's friends. One name stuck out to you, Kevin. You had heard something about a prophet dying, a kid at that.

"Come on, Dean... You can do this..." You whispered to yourself and that was when you saw a fight finally start and you winced when you saw Metatron practically fling Dean around like a ragdoll.

You sighed and you sat down while you watched, hoping Dean would get a grip. He did for a while but when the close combat started, you were getting worried.

You could hear Sam in the distance looking for Dean and you knew this wouldn't be good. Any kind of distraction could be fatal right now especially if it was his brother.

"Don't focus on that, Dean. Focus on the fight!" You said, more to yourself so you wouldn't distract him.

But from what you could see, dean was getting beat up pretty bad and your heart was racing. That worry was back and you head that you were worrying for a human but you couldn't help it. You wanted to do something. Anything, if you could.

This couldn't be happening. Things couldn't end for the hunter this way. Dean still had so much he could do, so much he needed to do. Sam still needed him and even you could see that.

You teleported down and saw the fight up close. Dean was leaning up against a large Conex box used for storage on ships or trains. He was beaten and bloody and he was holding out his hand for the blade.

By the time he got the blade, Metatron was standing over him.

"Dean!" You cried out but it was too late.

Metatron stabbed Dean with the angel blade and Sam was already running over to see if Dean was okay.

While you watched Sam run to his brother, you felt something on the inside of you bubbling up. The familiar rage and the burning in your arm returned.

You held out your hand and the First Blade was snatched from Dean's hand into your own.

The moment you held that blade in your hand again, you felt its power surging through you once again. You had almost forgotten what it was like to hold the magnificent weapon.

"Y/N! Don't!" You could hear Dean calling you but you didn't care to hear it as you teleported in front of Metatron, grabbing him by the collar.

"A pathetic, sorry excuse, for a low class Angel. I've fought archangels mightier than you." You seethed and Metatron laughed.

"Wow.. not only is there an angel I know that loves humanity... but am I gathering the fact that a demon loves humanity too? What are the odds of that?" You could hear the angel speak and your eyes went red.

You used the blade and stabbed Metatron in the abdomen, in a spot where he wouldn't die quickly. But he'd die slowly, painfully and he would be able to feel the life exiting his body.

Besides, Castiel ran into you when you left the boys and you knew they needed this scum bag alive. That was the only reason you didn't kill him outright. If they wanted to heal him, they could.

You could feel the ground beneath you beginning to shake and you looked around.

"The tablet..." You could hear Metatron speak and he disappeared. You assumed it was to Heaven but you ran back to Sam and Dean.

You saw from a distance that Sam was carrying Dean.

"Come one, we need to get you to a hospital." You could faintly hear Sam say. You wanted to know what they were saying clearer so you stepped closer and hid behind a corner.

"No, it's better this way... This mark... i-it's turning me into something I don't wanna be..." You heard Dean speak and you could feel something inside of you beginning to break.

"I have to say something.. It's important." You could hear Dean say as he was holding onto his brother.

Sam carefully set Dean down so he could speak. Sam must've known Dean was losing a lot of strength and a lot of blood.

"I'm proud of us..."

You could tell those were Dean's last words to Sam as he fell onto Sam's shoulder. Sam sat him up and cupped his face and you could hear him call out Dean's name a few times as if to try and wake him up but it was too late...

Watching Sam mourn and hold his brother woke up something in you.

The bond that the brothers had was unbreakable. You've never witnessed something like this up close and seeing someone mourn the death of a loved one like this... You didn't know how humans could do it. It had to take some kind of strength. You knew you didn't have what it took to be a human, but you could finally say you understood why the brothers do what they do. You see why they care and you can see why they love...

You wanted so badly to walk over and say something to Sam, but you didn't know what you should say.

So... into the shadows you returned, leaving the blade behind and abandoning it despite the urge to bring it along with you.

Sam had placed Dean's dead body onto his mattress since they had returned to the bunker. Little did Sam know what the future would hold.

For in that very moment, the mark was beginning to transform Dean. He was in some sort of interval between life and death. The mark wouldn't let go so easily.

Dean's soul was starting to become more and more corrupted because of the mark and yet he felt like he was in some kind of void.

"Your brother, bless is soul... is in the process of summoning me to bring you back." Dean could almost hear a familiar voice. He knew it was Crowley and even the thought of him being close to his dead body was made him feel sick.

"The whole making a deal to bring you back thing. It's so expected, part of the same dance routine. Predictable and rather worn I should say."

Why couldn't Dean move? He could hear Crowley speaking to him about his brother and for some reason, he was starting to care less and less about what his brother was doing in that moment. Why was that happening to him? He wanted to stay with his brother but the other half of him couldn't care less if he was mourning.

"It doesn't matter if he wants to bring you back, Dean. It won't matter to anyone if you still have your humanity."

There was a second voice in his head and it sounded like himself, but Dean wasn't speaking. Another being came into Dean's view and it was an image of himself with the blackened eyes of a demon.

"Let go of that humanity. Live for yourself and chase your heart's desires. Chase them no matter how ugly and warped those desires may be." The demon was beginning to tell him.

When the comment of deep, dark and ugly desires were mentioned, Dean could feel his heart swell at the thought of killing anyone and everything - but he wouldn't be alone. His desire was to have you there by his side. The one woman who could even start to fathom what this hell has been like for him. You could share that together.

His desire was to slaughter millions together. Even if something like that was so incredibly wrong.

"You have to believe me when I say I didn't know this would happen, Dean. It's important that you know that when I told you to take on the Mark of Cain I didn't know this would happen. Not really. But perhaps I didn't tell you everything..."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Dean just wanted to die before he could turn into whatever was standing right in front of him. He didn't want to be a demon. He didn't want to be a killer, but everything inside of him was craving that darkness, let himself indulge in those desires.

"I never lied, Dean. It's fundamental that you know that. But this story.. I may have forgotten to tell you..."

"Evidently, Cain was even willing to accept death rather than turn into the killing machine that the mark wanted him to be. So, he used the First Blade on himself. But.. the mark never quite let go."

Dean was listening to this and he looked back at the demon version of himself who was smiling wickedly.

"I know, interesting isn't it? Just the fact that even Cain was in the same position you are in now? That's pretty impressive that you could be in the same shoes as the Father of Murder himself." The demon laughed, making Dean's stomach churn.

"I didn't tell you about this because well, why get excited over something that may or may not even be true? A waste of time to get excited over speculation."

"It wasn't until you summoned me and I saw your current state, wasn't until I realized you wouldn't even eat a cheeseburger that I decided... what if I gave believing a shot? Maybe miracles really do come true."

Dean looked down at his hands. If Cain couldn't defeat this, why should he fight the inevitable? He had been doing it all his life, fighting for Free Will but this... This was different. And he was so tired of fighting..

When Dean looked up at the demon version of himself, he was offering out a hand, "Come on.. what do you say? Give up being human and have a taste of real freedom."

Then Dean felt something else in his hand. It was the First Blade and he looked at it. When did they get this? Last he remembered, you had taken it. Where did Crowley get it.

Either way, he was feeling more alive in that moment than he had felt in years.

"Listen to me, Dean. What you're feeling right now? It's not death... it's life. A new kind of life..."

Dean looked at the demon and he had already had Dean's hand clasped, mark to mark. "It's go time Baby."

"Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see... Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."

The next thing Dean knew he could finally open his blackened, demonic eyes and embrace the demon he finally became.

Thank you guys so much for reading so far! I'm so glad you all have stayed up until this point and I hope you're enjoying where the story is going. Tell me what you think will happen next!

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog

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thedestructionofgrace · 1 year

Text

SPOILERS!! Gosh, the new episode of the last of us was amazing (as expected). To get a little background on Henry and Sam just made their deaths even more devastating, we already knew Henry would do anything for Sam but now we get to see how far he really went for his little brother (killing a well loved/known person for medicine).

The fact that they incorporated keivonns deafness too, was great to see (I am deaf too, I can’t sign but I wish I could and think it’s a real beautiful language) Sign language is really useful especially in situations where you can’t be loud or give away your location. It’s awesome to see hard of hearing/deafness portrayed in the show and I wasn’t expecting it or aware, maybe they did that on purpose, they didn’t make a big announcement about having a deaf character for clout, their just happens to be someone who’s deaf and that’s it. I love it.

Oh man, I love apocalypse shows. They always reveal people’s true nature. What’s interesting to me is that for 20 years Kathleen’s people were under the thumb of FEDRA, they fought (endured?) and survived them and took the city for themselves. In another situation we know the audience would support the people and be happy to see them get justice but instead of being good guys the writers kinda flipped it on us by giving us Kathleen and her right hand man (Perry), who we automatically hate because of their want to kill the two brothers. To me it’s thought provoking, if we’d started off with Kathleen and her brother there’s a chance we’d hate Henry for killing him and we’d be on her side instead of Henry and sams. It’s kind of like the situation with Abby, we hated her automatically for killing Joel but we actually got to see her side of the story and now I love her character and understand why she did what she did, it’s guess it’s not an official parallel between the storylines but that is how I see it.

I’m not sure if changing sams age (from early teenager like Ellie to child) was on purpose or not but I thought it was really good, you don’t get to see any really young kids beside Ellie, Riley, Sarah and Abby (but they were in their teens when we see them in flashbacks). To see it from a child’s perspective was heartbreaking especially since we knew what was coming to him, Sam and Ellie’s relationship could not have been portrayed any better in my opinion. Sam showed Ellie he was bitten and they first thing she does was try to save him 🥺 and she stays up and comforts him throughout the last night of his life while his big brother is in the next room none the wiser. Like that shit had my eyes teary and blurry. While i knew that they were going to die the writers still managed to find a way to still make their deaths shocking and rip out my heart (again), so they deserve high praise for that.

You can really see on bellas face how good of an actor she really is, that look she had after Henry shot himself was just 😫. This is definitely one of those key moments in Ellie’s life that lets her know how fucked life can be and again Bella just knocked it out of the park with her reactions. With Joel he’s had 20 years of this kind of stuff but obviously with Ellie it’s different, we have to go through all these firsts alongside her. Ellie’s “I’m sorry” was just gut punching and now we can see that those close ups of joel which we’ve been seeing in the trailers for the last few months was his reaction to reading that and looking down on their graves. I can’t believe the whole time that’s what he was looking at 😢

Honourable mentions:

That little clicker girl!!! She was so freaky!!!

Ellie being cocky knowing that Joel will change his mind later and let Henry and Sam come with them to Wyoming

Sam and Ellie’s love of savage starlight and them signing “endure and survive” 🥹🥹

despite not verbally speaking, Sam and Ellie still have the ability to communicate with each other

They cast Henry and Sam perfectly

Bloater!!!!

Joel’s determination to keep infected away from Ellie while he was sniping was making me sweat

Ellie being badass and saving Henry and Sam, also Henry saving Ellie in the smoke 🔥

DANNY AND ISH!!!!😫

Henry’s look on his face when he hears his little brother laugh 😭

“He’s not my dad” “I’m not her dad”

I thinks sams superhero mask deserves a shoutout too

it’s also cool how they made Henry and Sam actively seek out Joel and Ellie compared to how they meet in the game

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded! Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum.

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead.

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…”

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading, @thatsdarwinism, @satellitespidey

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simplyparker · 2 years

Text

My Brightest Star

Navigation // Marvel Masterlist

Pairings: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Summary: "I wouldn't want to live my life with anyone el-" "Shut up." "What?" "Yes."

Warnings: Cursing, light smut (more or less heavy petting, suggestiveness.

Word Count: 5.1k i-

Everyone's Outfits lmfao

A/n 1: Most of this was deleted. I put a lot of me in this, so I hope you guys enjoy.

A/n 2: Peter and the reader are 22. ALSO lets just pretend that the landing area that's almost at the top of the tower... is like... a regular roof, and a nice little hang out area..... for the sake of the plot. I want it to give: this (if you're like me and can't think of outfits i linked some)

It had been a pretty good Friday. You and MJ went to the mall. MJ and you only really went for Barnes and Noble, and coffee. Then you guys got lunch at Michelle’s favorite place.

MJ said that she was going to go over to her partners for the night, so you dropped her there and went home. It was around 5:30 when you finally got back to the tower. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were in the kitchen when you walked into there.

“Hey guys, how was your day?” you ask them while you grab a drink from the fridge.

“It was nice. I beat Bucky's ass in training today.” Sam said and Bucky let out a chuckle.

“Oh, you wish,” Bucky says, taking another bite out of his half-eaten apple. Steve wasn’t paying much attention, his focus on the newspaper in front of him.

“What about you, y/n? How was your day?” Sam asks.

“Pretty good. Went shopping with MJ and then we had lunch. Nothing too crazy.” you respond to say taking a seat at the counter next to him, and across from Bucky. “Where is everyone?”

“Tony and Pepper are-“ Steve starts but is cut off by Bucky.

“Spider-Boy is in his room if you wanna go hang out with him,” Bucky says and finishes off his apple.

“Yeah, plus Buck and I were about to watch the new episode of" he pauses, "anyways,” Sam replies. You nod suspiciously and get up with your drink.

“Okay well, have fun,” you say and walk to the elevator to go to Peter's room. You walk up to his door and knock on it.

“Come in” Peter yells through the other side. You open the door and he glances over. You smile at him and he runs over to you to hug you.

“Hi, baby. I missed you,” you say as he wraps his arms around you hurrying his face in your neck. "I got you something."

“You didn’t have to do that love,” he mumbled into your neck, peppering kisses on it.

“Well I wanted to,” you say rubbing his back. Peter pulls his face out of your neck and kisses you softly.

“Well thank you, love,” he says pulling you towards his bed to sit on it. “I was watching Star Wars before you came home,” he says nodding towards the TV.

“Always fun.” you grab out the bag that has his gift in it. It was wrapped in thin paper. You hand it to him, “Open it.” he smiles, takes the gift into his hands, and carefully takes the paper off. “I know that you like stargazing. And I saw it and thought of you.” It was true. Peter loved going out on late-night walks with you after patrolling.

For your first date, Peter took you to an Astrology Museum, then you guys ate tacos in the park. On your one-year anniversary, Peter got you a necklace that was on the shape of a star. On the back of it had 'P.P.' carved into it and you cried. Happy tears of course. On your guys' two-year anniversary, he got you a promise ring that had small stars on it, and you bought a star and named it after Peter, (he cried). Two weeks from today will be your three-year anniversary.

"I love it. Thank you so much" He sets it on the nightstand and hugs you. "Can you believe that it's been almost three years?" He asks, kissing along your neck.

"I feel like it's gone so fast. I never want this to end" You say, and he agrees. You go to give a sweet, but quick, kiss to which he deepens it.

"I've missed this," Peter says against your lips, and you laugh.

"We literally had sex this morning." you kiss and suck on his neck leaving marks.

"That was not sex. That was you teasing me and me cumming in my boxers." You pull your head away from his neck with a fake pout on your face.

"I'm sorry," you say.

'No, you aren't" He laughs and pulls you to straddle his lap. "I love you, ya tease." He says, kissing the part of your neck that was exposed. You pull the hoodie of his that you were wearing off, exposing that you were only wearing a hoodie and bra. Peter's eyes go wide. "Shit," he mumbles promoting you to laugh.

"Shut up." you roll your eyes, then roll your hips. Thank god for skirts. Peter lets out a soft grunt, and you can feel him hard under you.

"Can I take this off? Please." he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes and you nod. He takes your bra off and immediately attaches his mouth to one of your nipples and starts kissing and sucking roughly.

"Fuck, Pete. We have all night calm down." You say and lace your fingers through his hair. You needed friction, so you kept grinding down onto Peter's lap. Both of his hands were pushing your hips down roughly, and the stimulation from his mouth on your nipple was so much. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum like this." a small gasp leaves your lips when he bites down on your nipple, then releases it from your mouth. His hands were still guiding your hips.

"Wow, and I've barely even touched you." He teases. You let out a whine in his ear and you feel his cock jump against his sweatpants. We were so close. I mean on the brinks. Just when you were about to cum, a knock sounds at the door. You and Peter jump apart, and you grab your hoodie quickly and a voice from the other side of the door.

"Hey kids, dinner's done," Steve says from the other side of the door.

"Coming!" You yell out to him and he says okay. You put your bra back on and now are completely dressed. Peter lets out a laugh.

"No, you aren't" He laughs, at first you were confused then it hits you.

"You're gonna need to change your pants. Mr. "Wow, and I've barely even touched you." Who's laughing now?" you mimicked his words from earlier. He looks down at his pants, now soaked with precum and your arousal.

"Shit." He walks over to his dresser to grab a new pair of sweatpants.

"Oh, and for your little joke a second ago, have fun with your hand tonight. I'm sleeping in my room." You say as you walk out of his room.

"Wait, baby I'm sorry!" He yells, but you are out the door. Nat was leaving her room at the same time so she heard Peter yell after you.

"Trouble in paradise?" She asks, and you pout then let out a small laugh.

"Nope." you make sure to pop the 'p' "Peter just thinks he's funny." She laughs are you both walk to the dining room.

"Wanda made her homemade Spaghetti and meatballs," Steve says excitedly.

"Wait really?!" Peter exclaims as he rushes into the room.

"Yes really. And before you two ask, yes I made extra for you guys." Wanda says rolling her eyes.

~One Week Later~

Everyone was in Tony's lab. Well not everyone. Tony had sent you and the other Avenger women to a spa for a spa day. You were really suspicious at first, but he said that's what Pepper wanted for her birthday so you went along with it.

"Okay, this has to be perfect. Y/n, she's the love-" Peter starts,

"Of my life blah blah blah" Sam mimics. "Get on with it Spider-boy."

"Yeah, why are we all here? And where are all the girls?" Bucky asks.

"Peter has asked me to bring all of you guys in here," Tony says.

"Since when do you take orders from the kid?" Bucky asks.

"And since when do you call him 'Peter'?" Sam asks. Tony rolls his eyes.

"Everyone shut up. Kid, continue." Tony sits in his seat and Peter stands up and fishes something from the pocket of his jeans.

"I want to ask y/n to marry me." He says, showing then the small black velvet ring box in his hand. Steve's face lights up as soon as he's about to speak, Sam says something

"Oh my god. Spider-Girl is pregnant." Sam gasps "Y'all are nasty for that one."

"What? No, she's not." Peter denies. And it's true, you are not pregnant.

"Uh-huh. Then why didn't she drink with us last weekend? Huh, Raid? Riddle me that." Sam crosses his arms.

"Not that it is any of your business, y/n just got on a new birth control and her doctor said she can't drink for the first few weeks on it. Mr. Bird Brain."

"So proud you're getting laid man." someone said from the back of the room as they pump his fist.

"Who the hell is that?" Bucky questions.

"Oh, uhm Ned.... we've met like 10 times." Ned says, and Bucky raises an eyebrow "uh never mind." Ned took a seat in the closest chair and Peter breathed out a laugh.

"Anyways, our three-year anniversary is next week and I want to propose then. So if you don't want to be a part of that, then I understand but please stay out of the way." Peter says.

"Well, I for one am proud of you kid." Steve stands up from his chair and walks over to Peter, putting one of his hands on his shoulder. "What do you need from us?" With a small smile, Peter explained what he wanted to do.

The plan was to have everyone 'forget' your guys' anniversary. He wanted to hang twinkle lights on the roof and have everyone there. He would have your favorite food ready for dinner. He just wanted it to be perfect like you. Because in his eye, you were.

It was two days before your anniversary, and you were excited. Last year Peter woke you up with breakfast in bed, then you guys had slow, passionate sex. This year you wanted to do the same.

It was a little past 9 am and you had training with Natasha at 10. Your head was on Peter's bare chest, you were running your fingers up and down his stomach. You decided to give yourself 5 more minutes, then you would get ready for the day. Peter woke up and smile with a content sigh.

"Good morning beautiful," He says, and his hand stroke down your naked back.

"Oh god." you groan, "Don't talk right now," you say sitting up.

"Why not?" Peter questions.

"Because your voice is irresistible in the morning. And I have to meet Nat in," you glanced over to the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand next to her side of the bed. "In 43 minutes. And I can't be late." You turn your head back to face Peter, who wasn't looking at your face. He was looking at your bare tits. Basically drooling at your nipples, which were firm due to the coldness of the room. "Parker." You say, startling him.

"Huh? Sorry." He blushes.

"Did you hear me?" You ask. He shakes his head no. "Why weren't you listening?" You tease.

"B-because, I- uh. Boobies." he stutters and you laugh.

"I love you, baby." You kiss his forehead and get off the bed, despite Peter's protests. "I have to get ready, I'll see you later." And with that, you got ready for the day. Peter had some stuff to do so he sucked it up and got on with it. He needed to pick up the lights from the store, and swing by May's to grab a nice dark blue Oxford shirt and his black slacks. He had black loafers in his closet at the tower.

Peter swung over to Mays. Since he doesn't have a car May said he could use hers.

"And you're completely sure?" Peter asks.

"Yes, Peter. I am sure." May says pushing the keys back over to him

"You'll be there Friday, right?" Peter asks.

"Of course, I will. I can't even explain how excited I am that you guys are gonna be engaged." She smiles brightly.

"Well she has to say yes first," Peter says, and May rolls her eyes at his words.

"She's in love with you Peter. Of course, she'll say yes." May says.

"Okay," He lets out a large breath, "I needed that. Okay, I have to go. I love you May, thank you." He says.

"I love you too. I'll see you Friday." She says and Peter leaves.

-Friday-

You made sure to wake up before Peter, which wasn't hard. You carefully got out of bed and slipped on one of Peters shirts, and a pair of shorts. When you walked into the kitchen you saw Steve and Sam sitting on the barstools.

"Morning guys." You said, walking over to the pot of coffee and pouring yourself a cup.

"Good Morning y/n," Steve said looking up from his newspaper. You went to the cabinet that had the pancake mix in it and grabbed it out setting it on the counter. "Why are you up so early?" he asks.

"I'm making Peter his favorite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes." You say grabbing the rest of what you need.

"Why would you do that?" Sam asked.

"Because he did the same for me last year. So I'm making him breakfast in bed," you say.

"So he made you breakfast once one year ago? You guys are weird." Sam says.

"Well, today is a special day." You say making the pancake mix and stirring in chocolate chips.

"Is it his birthday?" Sam asks.

"His birthday is in August." You say as you pour some mix into the heated pan. You turn back to face Sam.

"What month is it?" Sam asks. You turn back around to watch the pancakes and Sam and Steve give each other a thumbs up.

After you cook the pancakes, you get them on a plate and go to get the milk out to make a glass for Peter. Just as you're about to pick it up and bring it to Peter, he walks into the kitchen.

"Peter! Why are you awake? And why do you have clothes on?" You ask a fully dressed for the day Peter. You hear Sam say gross.

"Oh I was gonna go hang out with Ned, he doesn't work today," Peter says. At first, you're confused.

"Uhm, okay," you say, a bit disappointed. And it breaks Peter's heart. He knows for the surprise he has to pretend he forgot, but the small frown on your face almost makes him break. "What time will you be back?" you ask.

"Not sure, sometime tonight." He says.

"Well, I made you breakfast..." you say hesitantly. You could have slept in and gotten more sleep, but no you wanted to be a good girlfriend and make him breakfast in bed.

"Oh, thanks, baby." He goes up to you, takes one off the plate, and quickly eats it. "I got to go through." He gives you a kiss on the forehead then walks away. "Bye," he yells out as the elevator closes.

"What the fuck." you say and Steve and Sam just shrug. "Well happy anniversary to me." you mutter under your breath.

Due to Peter's advanced hearing, he could hear you mutter that under your breath. He was really starting to regret this whole plan. But he had to meet with Ned because he gave the ring to Ned so you wouldn't find it.

Peter and Ned needed to kill some time until 5 o'clock. He had already set everything up the night before while you were with Wanda and Morgan cooking cookies. Everything was set. All MJ had to do was keep you distracted until 5pm Friday.

When Peter got to Ned's apartment, Betty answered the door with a smile.

"Hi Peter! Come in." She moves opens the door enough to let Peter and and he walks in.

"Hi Betty, how are you?" He asks shrugging off his coat and setting it on the back of the couch.

"I'm good. Uhm, how are you?" she asks.

"Nervous? I don't know, honestly." he responds

"You got this! She'll say yes." Betty pats her hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"She just- she sounded so sad when I left. I don't want her to think I forgot. You know?" he says just as Ned walks into the room.

"Oh, knowing y/n she's definitely gonna kick your ass." Ned says as he walked over to where Peter and Betty are standing.

"Don't say shit like that. She can literally light me on fire with he hands." Peter point a finger at Ned.

"Wait, has she ever "flamed up" during sex? Oh my god! Your penis could fall off!" Ned says.

"Ned!" Both Peter and Betty yell at the same time.

"Sorry, sorry. Not the time." Ne pauses. "Wait! If you got y/n pregnant, would you guys have fire spider babies? Oh my god. Could you imagine? It's just playing then it crawls up the wall onto the ceiling then bursts into flames." Peter just blinks,

"Holy shit could that happen?" Peter gasps. Better hits Peter and Ned in the head and points to the couch.

"Sit down. Calm down." The two boys walk over to the couch and sit. "I'm going back to my apartment. I have stuff to do there. I will be back at 3 to make sure you two are ready, we are leaving at 4:30. Understood?" Betty explains. They both nod and Betty leaves.

"Wanna play video games?" Ned asks and Peter nods.

When Peter left to go to Neds, you gave the pancakes to Sam and Steve and went up to your room. You called MJ as soon as you got to your room.

"Good morning" MJ says as she picks up the phone.

"Good morning to you too. Did I wake you?" You ask.

"No, but I did just wake up. What's up?" MJ asks. Mj knew what was up. She was in on the plan. "Is this you calling me to tell me Peter did something big and stupid and accidentally lit your bed on fire with candles?" MJ teases.

"MJ that happened one time, but no. This is my calling to tell you he forgot, and is with Ned right now." MJ could hear that you sounded a bit hurt.

"What about we do something today then huh?" Michelle pauses, "We can dress up and go out to a nice lunch? Only if you're up for it." MJ suggests.

Unbenounced to you, Peter had asked MJ to try and get you to wear something nice. He told her to just make up something and get you to wear something nice and to distract you until 5.

"You know what, yeah. That sounds nice." you think for a second, "How dressed up?" you ask.

"Hmm, formal. Like a fancy date, type apparel." She says.

"Okay, sounds good to me. I can be ready in an hour. I need to shower and find something." You reply.

"Yeah, sounds good." She says, and you guys say your goodbyes and hang up.

You took a shower and got ready. You put on a nice navy blue dress. The straps set on the sides of your shoulders, and the bottom puffed out a little. You had boughten the dress on sale a few months back, planning on wearing it on a date, but ended up forgetting about it due to back-to-back missions. You walked over to the nice line of shoes in your closet. You picked black ankle strap pumps. When you were walking back over to your bed to sit and put them on, your phone dinged twice.

You quickly grabbed it and looked to see the messages.

MJ: Hey, I'm on my way 15 mins.

MJ: Wait did I tell you I was picking you up?

You let out a laugh, and sat down the phone. You quickly put on the shoes and grabbed a small black purse to put your phone and wallet in. You take the elevator down to floor 72 where the living area is. When you walk in you see Nat and Wanda playing cards.

"Woah you look really pretty, where are you going?" Nat asks.

"Going to a fancy lunch with MJ. She should be here soon." You smile. You check the time on your phone, it reads 12:24 pm. "What are you guys playing?" you ask.

"War," Wanda says, "And I'm kicking her ass." You laugh and Nat rolls her eyes.

"Whatever, you're cheating or some shit." Nat sighs. You take a seat on the loveseat and scroll though your phone to pass time waiting for MJ. About 5 minutes later you get a text from Michelle.

MJ: 5 minutes away

You let out a small laugh and quickly type a reply,

Me: heading down now

MJ: see ya soon

You close your phone and get up from your seat, saying goodbye to Nat and Wanda. You click the elevators button and it takes a minute then opens. You smile when you see Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

"Hey guys." you say as you walk into the elevator. They all look at eachother with worried looks.

"UH AH I-" Bucky stutters out, but Steve and Sam both interrupt him,

"We're going out for a run."

"We're going out for lunch"

"Uh... okay then." you say.

You all awkwardly stand there waiting for it to get down to the final bottom floor. You say your goodbyes to them and walk to the entrance of the building. Well exit in this case.

When you walk out you see MJ leaning against her car. She's in a grey suit with black buttons, and her hair is parted to the side.

"Holy shit you look hot." you say. She stops leaning on the car and walks over to you. She grabs your hand and gestures for you to spin around.

"I can say the same to you," she replies. "so sad I get to see you like this and Peter doesn't" she says as you guys walk the few steps to her car. She opens the door for you and you say,

"yeah so sad." you pause, "he's probably playing video games and eating pizza with Ned." you say and get into the car.

"Okay, and here's the pizza." Ned says setting the freshly delivered pizza on the coffee table.

"Awesome," Peter grabs a slice, shoveling into his mouth. His phone dings and he sees a text from MJ.

MJ: We just had lunch now we are going to window shop

Peter: Awesome, thank you so much MJ. I'll pay you back as soon as I can.

MJ: don't worry about it, it's nice to just have us time.

Peter: I literally owe you everything.

MJ: yeah yeah whatever.

Peter closes his phone and looks at the time. It reads 2:23 pm. He's so excited and scared and giddy and nervous and well every emotion you can think of. He goes back to eating and playing video games with Ned.

"Okay I'm here." Betty says as she walks into Ned's apartement.

"Hey Betty," Ned says, still looking at the tv which had their game was playing.

Betty had curled her hair and opted for a thinner black headband to keep it out of her face. The contrast of her pale skin and the deep red dress was very nice. It had lace over it and it was shorter in the front than in the back. She had a simple pair of black flats on and a small side bag, presumably for her phone and wallet.

He turns his head to glimpse at her to give her a smile, then to quickly turn it back to the screen. Instead he looked at Betty then at the tv but quickly switching back to her. Betty was flustered under his gaze and he just smiled.

"Fuck yes! I win!" Peter exclaims. "Oh hey Betty when did you get here?" Peter asks setting the controller down. They both ignore him and Ned talks to Betty.

"You look really pretty" he smile, making her blush but she quickly waves him off with a laugh.

"You guys should get ready." she rubs the back of her neck and Peter and Ned both get up from the couch. Peter grabs his clothes that Ned hung up in the spare closet.

They both got ready and by 4:30 they were out the door. Peter had the ring in his pocket and he was as ready as could be.

It was 5:54. Everyone, excluding you and MJ, we're up on the roof. Peter was scared, excited, worried, happy, all of the emotions you can feel when you're about to propose to the love of your life.

MJ: just pulled up

Peter: shit okay

Peter: make an excuse for you to go to the roof.

-----

MJ: just pulled up

Peter: shit okay

Peter: make an excuse for you to go to the roof.

"I had a lot of fun." you say as MJ parks her car.

"Yeah me too. I miss us time ya know?" she says and you nod in agreement.

"We need to do this once a month. Like get all fancy, and go to a nice dinner, and just have us time." you say.

"I have some wine in the backseat, do you want to go to the roof and drink? I don't wanna be inside since it feels good out today." She asks.

"You know what? That sounds nice, let's do it." you both get out of the car and walk to the entrance. You guys walk to the elevator and you press the floor number 76 where your room was along with a few others. F.R.I.D.A.Y. speaks.

"Identification required to access home floors." She says. You grab your ID from your wallet and place it where she scans it. "Access granted."

"Why are we going to your floor?" MJ asks.

"Oh, I just want to set my purse in my room." you say and she nods. You both walk to your room, set your purse down then head back to the elevator. You click the floor number for the roof and the elevator moves up.

"Shall we?" you ask nodding to the bottle of white wine in her hand. He hesitantly nods, and opens the bottle.

As you are taking a drink out of it, MJ texts Peter with an update.

MJ: In the elevator on the way. read 5:58pm

When Peter saw MJ text, a squeak from the back of his throat was audible, grabbing Tony's attention away from Pepper.

"You okay kid?" He asks. Peter's face is flushed, still he nods.

"Uhm yeah. MJ just said they are in the elevator. Almost here." he quickly says. Tony claps to grab everyone's attention. When everyone is looking at him he speaks,

"Okay so y/n will be here momentarily. This isn't a surprise party, just pretend you don't see her. Unless she speaks to you." Tony says and everyone lets out a different form of understanding.

The elevator dings as everyone continues their previous conversations. Out walks you and Michelle. You look around confused, then you spot Peter. A nervous looking Peter, with a nervous looking smile. Your eyes immediately soften when you put two and two together.

He had planned this for you.

Now you didn't feel as sad, or forgotten. You felt kinda dumb. Dumb that thought Peter, the same guy who celebrates your half birthday, would forget your three-year anniversary. MJ finds her partner in the crowd and pats your shoulder,

"I'm gonna go talk to Sky." She says and you nod, then she walks off. You walk over to Peter, his smile changed from nervous to happy when he see your smile. When you reach him you're the first to speak.

"What's all this?" You ask and he kisses you lightly.

"Nothing really," he shrugs he leans into your ear, "Happy anniversary my love" he whispers, his warm breath send goosebumps all over you.

"Happy anniversary," you pause to look in his hazel eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too." His lips slot with yours, you have to remind yourself that there are people around you, even if they aren't looking, so you pull away.

Across the roof stood Natasha, Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

"They are so sickly in love." Natasha says, sipping on her drink. Steve nods,

"I'm happy for them." Bucky hmms.

"I think it's gross" Sam shivers and Nat lets out a small laughs.

"PUH-lease." she pauses taking another sip of her wine, "You are 100% rooting for them."

"Yeah, you act like you hate it, but you were secretly rooting for them the whole time." Bucky says. Sam rolls his eyes.

"You can't say otherwise, man." Steve shrugs, making Sam roll hi seyes once again.

"Okay, whatever." He grumbles. Before any of they cant reply, the sound of Peter clinking a fork to a glass sounds. Everyone quiets down and looks over at him.

"I would like to make a toast, to my beautiful, girlfriend." your face feels hot with everyone looking at the two of you. "I don't think I could make it through half of the shit I've been through without you. Thank you for being there for me no matter what."

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way." you smile. Peter reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box, keeping it away from your line of sight.

"I never told anyone 'I love you' before I met you. And I told you that I loved you on our second date." you let out a small laugh, "And" he pauses and gets down on one knee and your breath caught in your throat.

"I wouldn't want to live my life with anyone el-" he starts,

"Shut up." you quickly say,

"Uh, What?" his whole body tenses with embarrassment. Well, until you open your mouth again.

"Yes." you say, grabbing him by his collar and smashing his lips to yours. You can hear someone wolf whistle, but you're too blissed out on happiness to care. When you and Peter finally disconnect you lips, you see Peter's face is very flushed and everyone cheers. He slides the ring on your finger and you smile even brighter.

You look at who's around. Yours and Peter's closest friends and family. Your attention is caught by someone you didn't expect to see. Your sister, who raised you by herself, was there. She had teary eyes and was smiling widely.

There couldn't a better way to celebrate today.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker one shot #peter parker smut #mcu spiderman #peter parker #fem!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #fluff #peter parker fluff #marvel #avengers x reader #y/n smut #K Writes Shit

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eponymous-rose · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E123 (Feb. 2, 2021)

After last week’s thoroughly relaxing and brief episode, tonight’s guests are Sam Riegel and Liam O’Brien!

Brian, to Sam: “You look like Tim Curry moved to Nantucket to become a sommelier.”

How did Caleb and Veth approach the ally-ship with the Tombtakers? Sam: “I mean, we got some information, and I think we got a little closer to Lucien and knowing whether he has any of Mollymauk inside of him, which is I think the most important knowledge that we’re seeking right now. Is there someone to be saved inside there? We got glimpses, and we got a little hint that Mollymauk is maybe still in there? Maybe? And we got a little more insight into their plans, so that was useful.” Liam: “We know why we were having that fucking dream.” Sam: “But other than that, it was just a road trip with assholes.” Liam: “All our plans have been ripped in a new direction, and it’s just been improvisation.” Sam notes that it feels like we’re always about to rip into Caleb’s backstory, but haven’t yet followed that thread all the way through. Liam: “It’s partially frustrating, to be sure, but also I like the idea that-- his whole shit has been selfish, it’s been dealing with the trauma that he’s been through and not the greater world, and that’s been shifting somewhat.”

Does Caleb think the book was worth it, and is he still interested in reading more? Sam: “How do you ask Caleb not to read a book?” Liam: “Caleb has spent enough time with the Nein to know you shouldn’t put a hand on a hot stove. After what happened with the book, he knows it’s a terrible idea. But maybe. But it’s a really bad idea. But reserve judgment, but it’s a really terrible idea. I think that Caleb is very aware that mages and people like him very easily fall prey to their curiosity and it can lead to bad places. But there is still that amount of scientific endeavor where you think there is value in knowing and learning, and maybe we can ride that line. He was True Neutral at the start of the campaign, and maybe he’s Chaotic Good now, but part of him is hubris, even if it’s a little bit, still.”

What about Otis has drawn Veth’s focus? Sam: “I mean, he’s a little shit. She was curious about Otis because he’s a small like she is, and in talking to him, he seemed to be real creepy, but he was just creepy and distant and didn’t value his past or family or anything like that. She sees someone who’s like her, but so not like her, and maybe that scares her a little bit more.”

How does Caleb feel about Beau being on this ride with him? Liam: “The dream is another example of how Caleb had very narrow vision of the things he wanted to do. It used to seem so massive to him, but now... To have Beauregard involved feels right. If anyone in the group is going to stop him from grabbing something he shouldn’t, it is probably Beauregard. She’ll punch him in the fucking face to stop him, which I think he needs, to a certain extent. They’re two different kinds of nerds, and I kind of like that, that this group of nine philosophers, they’ve reached out and somehow grabbed the two nerds in the party.”

How do Caleb and Veth see the Somnovum? Sam: “I mean, they seem real bad. Anything that’s a quorum of powerful entities heading towards your planet to unleash an energy of any kind, typically bad? I assume they’re bad, or at least the Tombtakers wish them to do ill.” Liam: “I think they want the kind of peace that comes from snapping your fingers and turning people to dust. Caleb sees them as a cautionary tale; they’re the worst-case scenario for arcane inquisitiveness.” He sees Allura Vysoren as the antidote to that.

Why the staunch refusal to use Halfling Luck? Sam: “I don’t like Luck! I just don’t like Luck. I think it’s cheap, I think it’s a cheat, I think it’s stupid. It just feels like a do-over.” Liam: “I am your antithesis! If I ever voice a halfling, I am going to hammer that feature!” Sam: “What I love about D&D is that you don’t know what’s going to happen. If you roll bad, okay, that’s it. If you roll well, it makes the success more enjoyable to know that it’s a pure success and don’t one where you’re like well actually... it’s so stupid. If someone was about to die, I would probably use the fuckin’ Luck feature. Well. It depends who. If it was Travis, yeah, no, he’s fucked, sorry.”

Liam drops that he’s picked Sam’s character class and race again for a hypothetical campaign three. Sam: “It’s not what I was thinking for future characters, but I’m excited to explore.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Mollymauk by KatofValkyrie!

What was it like to bring the Tombtakers into the tower? Liam: “It is complicated, because he does not like him. Lucien’s just a fucking dick. But Caleb also knows that Molly’s in there somewhere. That tower’s only for the M9, and Lucien’s not in the M9. Their situation with these people is shitty, it’s terrible. Caleb doesn’t feel like they have the upper hand. He doesn’t like that they’re even going on this journey per se, because life is bigger than his bullshit. He feels like they’ve been losing over and over again, so it was a gamble to try to get on equal footing.

What spurred Veth into making sure she and Yasha have some one-on-one time? Sam: “Yasha hasn’t been getting a lot of moments to shine. Now that she’s back, I just got the impression that Yasha feels out of place sometimes, or timid, or unsure of herself. When Veth was Nott, Nott certainly had her share of those moments. I think she sees a kindred spirit and wants to make sure that she’s been giving all the opportunity she can to flourish and thrive. Dani, you’re just laughing at my mustache, aren’t you?” Dani: “Yes, that’s the only thing I’m laughing at through this whole bullshit.” Sam denies all knowledge of trolling, but eventually admits, on the topic of Yasha and Beau getting together: “They’ve made me wait this long... I’m going to make them wait a little bit longer!”

What was it like to show his friends the upper floors? Liam: “I kinda expected somebody to sneak up there before that. That being part of the tower is not even a conscious choice of his, it just is. The reason Caduceus has creeped Caleb out for a long time is because he talks about how-- Caduceus is a really kind person and wants Caleb to let go of the past. And in a really simplistic way, turn that frown upside-down. And that’s just not who Caleb is, and it’s not who everybody is. There is something to be said for trying to stay open and positivity, but thinking you can shut out the past, especially a traumatic one, is just not true. When things happen to us, we carry them. But to candy-coat it and say, ah, I’m free, or everything is good, or I’ve turned the corner... life is way messier than that. It’s not flipping a switch, it’s not bad-to-good, it is such a work in progress. Even when you make strides and start to get to a better place, you can backslide a lot. So the tower is who he is, and the tower is 7/9ths love for his friends, and 1/9th hope, but there’s still a percentage of him that carries everything from the past, and knows that he should, and knows that he should not go back to where he was. And the way to do that is not to say everything is rainbows, but to remember it. The tower is just like an extension of who he is. He’s never going to forget the past, and he’s never going to be like, I’m good, or I’ve turned a corner. He should remember the past, and he should do better, always.”

Does Veth still believe it’s possible to get Molly back? Sam: “Well, she was a person trapped in another body for many years, so has some experience there, and definitely believes that the spirit and soul of Molly is in there and just needs to be unlocked somehow.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot by HarpySN!

How are Caleb and Veth dealing with their guilt and fear about being in the middle of this? Sam: “It definitely was a deep conversation that might have repercussions going forward. The problem with all of what we’re doing now is that we don’t have time to deal with our petty problems anymore. It’s all high tension all the time!” Liam: “It’s true; they’re not in control of their situation at all anymore.” Sam: “It’s good to have these check-ins, but it’s not like we can do anything about them. We’re reactive right now.” Liam: “He’s not happy with where they are, but they wouldn’t even be this far if the goblin hadn’t pulled him out of the mud. So part of it is, you saved me from where I was and got me on my feet again, and now it’s disconcerting to see it all just get knocked sideways by something he never could’ve predicted. I think Caleb felt nostalgic for when things were simpler, in a way, for them, when we’re both troubled drifters.”

What was it like to see Gelidon’s return? Liam: “I am the least superstitious person at the table. Ashley’s dice suck.” Sam: “It was fun fighting a dragon!” Liam: “Two massive battles in one episode, neither of which came away with a victory. I guess surviving is a victory.” Sam: “I’d forgotten about the dragon, honestly.” Liam: “I loved it. I was so upset at the idea that we were going to stealth and not get into it.”Sam: “Mercer doesn’t keep a live dragon around and not do something with it. That dragon’s coming back.”

How do Caleb and Veth feel about going to see Essek? Sam: “He can be very helpful, I believe, but as Sam Riegel, a player of D&D, I’m super suspicious. What the fuck is Essek doing up there, so close, now? I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. And I can throw him pretty far because he floats.” Liam: “I 100% agree with you. I do not understand what Essek could bring to what we are going through. I know the audience loves him, I love him too. He’s a really cool character. But he’s fucking toxic. He out of curiosity caused a war between two nations. And Caleb has been changed for the good by the M9 from months of travel with them. Essek has had none of that. Caleb has changed for the good, but not because of people like Essek. Essek is where Caleb came from. We kept the lid on the pot during the whole treaty at sea and it almost all went fucking sideways, and only because we pressed him into a corner. I hope that guy finds some sort of balance and peace for himself, but I do not see how his input here would be helpful. There’s other heavy hitters that I would try to pull in.”

Liam notes that the Cloven Crystal is in the Bag of Holding. Sam: “Do I have Fluffernutter, or is Fluffernutter gone?” Liam: “Nope. 300 pounds of fireworks? Gone. A dead mage, a threshold crest, and fireworks.” Dani: “Your basic essentials.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao)

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

#tw trauma #tw death #tw blood #tw injury #tw torture #tw abuse #tw starvation #prison arc #pandora's vault #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

Text

Breaking Hearts (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, again! Post- Age of Ultron but Pre-Civil War (though it is getting close to Civil War, let’s pretend there was 2 years in between). Inspired by Sam Smith’s beautiful “Breaking Hearts” highly recommend listening. Let me know your thoughts!

Summary: Wanda is upset with reader for getting injured during a mission to protect someone else. There is more, but I won’t say too much so I don’t give it away. Read to find out :)

“Summer haze of summer wine, reminded me of better times, but I let you in my heart. Why’d I let you in my heart?”

“What happened to this being an easy recon mission, Rogers?” You asked over the coms through gritted teeth as you tried to focus your attention on holding back the swarms of Hydra agents that surrounded you.

The sound of fists clashing against skin and groans of pain flooded your earpiece. “It was supposed to be! We must have been ambushed.” Steve grunted shortly from wherever he was located in the large base.

Despite the ambush you, Steve, and Natasha had been able to complete the mission with only a slight incident. That incident being you putting yourself at risk in order to protect Natasha during a dangerous moment that resulted in you taking a bullet in your abdomen. Thankfully Steve and Natasha were able to get you back to the compound in time to tend to your wounds safely. When Wanda was filled in on what happened she wasn’t happy at all and dragged you to your room as soon as it was safe to do so.

“How could you be so reckless, Y/n!” Wanda shouted, her hands clenched at her sides as she paced the length of your room.

You stared at her incredulously from your place on the bed, “Are you serious right now, Wanda?” An angry tone marred your words. “What was I supposed to do? Stand by and watch them shoot Natasha when I knew damn well there was something I could do to save her?”

The anger in her eyes didn’t falter, “You don’t think before you act.”

“No, actually, that’s the problem. I do think before I act. I think too much. I thought of how if I didn’t do something Nat would have died. How are you upset with me about that?” You raised your arms helplessly.

She shook her head in response, her jaw clenched. “You don’t get it.”

You slowly stood up and made your way over to her. “Look, if you’re upset that I got hurt… I understand, but I’m fine, Wanda.”

“We’ve had this argument so many times, Y/n. Yet, you continue being reckless.” You tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away sharply.

You sighed and dropped your hand back to your side, “I’m not being reckless, Wanda. You are all my family now. If I see an opportunity to protect any of you, I’m going to take it. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

For a moment a look of understanding flashed across her face, but it was short lived. You thought she understood. You’d never be one to stand idly by, not after your past. A tense silence hung in the air between you for a moment as you both just stared at one another. “I need some air.” She finally said.

“I’ll go with you.” You offered hopefully. Going to the roof always eased the tension between you both. It was your spot after all, where your story began, where your love blossomed… Where you always found peace.

Wanda set her jaw and shook her head. “Alone.” She said indifferently as she walked out of the room.

With a defeated sigh you fell onto your shared bed as you dragged a hand down your face. Wanda was right, you had had this conversation more than once, but you didn’t think you were being reckless. In situations like this you really saw no other option. If the price for saving a life was an injury, then you’d gladly pay. A knock on the door interrupted your train of thought. “Come in.” You mumbled behind your hand.

A moment later you felt the foot of the bed dip. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. “She might have a point you know.”

You removed your hand from your face to send a glare towards Natasha who just looked at you sympathetically. “Not you too, Nat. I wasn’t being reckless.” You repeated, practically shouting with frustration.

Natasha moved to kneel beside you, a comforting hand on your arm. “I wouldn’t call it reckless, Y/n, but you need to stop prioritizing everyone else’s safety over your own.”

“I couldn’t just watch them attack you.” You whispered and closed your eyes tiredly.

There was understanding in her eyes because the fact of the matter was everyone else on the team would have done the same. “And I appreciate what you did so much, just… can you try and be more careful? Maybe just tackle me next time instead of jumping in front of me?” She asked with a small smile and a playful twinkle in her eye.

You gave a weak chuckle at her words. “I guess I could have done that.”

“That’s all we ask. Now bring it in.” Natasha said gently as she opened her arms in offering which you gladly accepted as you wrapped your arms around her tightly.

For a moment Natasha just held you until you spoke up, “Do you think she’s still mad at me?” you mumbled into her shoulder.

She rubbed your back soothingly in response, “I would give her a little more time before you try to talk to her. She seemed pretty upset when I saw her.” You sighed defeatedly at her response. “How’s about this… We watch an episode of that one show you like, the one that’s in black and white, then you can go talk to her?”

You sighed again but eventually agreed to her terms even though you typically only watched the show with Wanda. “I’ve told you the name of the show so many times, Nat.” You berated playfully as you grabbed the remote and turned on the show. Unable to focus your thoughts on anything other than the woman you loved.

As soon as the credits rolled you couldn’t have been happier to shut off the TV. You turned to face Natasha who was already looking at you. She just shook her head at you with an amused smile on her lips. “Go get ‘em, tiger. Just remember what we talked about. Being more careful. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

With a nod and one final hug you rushed out of your room and towards the elevator, eagerly hitting the button to the roof. You absolutely hated fighting with Wanda and in hindsight you couldn’t blame her for being upset. You would be upset if roles we reversed too.

When you exited the elevator and stepped hesitantly onto the roof of the compound you couldn’t help the nerves that blossomed in your chest at the thought that she may still be upset with you. That she still wouldn’t want to talk to you. You didn’t see her immediately which confused you. Maybe she wasn’t on the roof after all, you thought to yourself as you wandered a little further in.

That’s when you found her.

The sight before you made your heart drop as a pained gasp escaped your lips.

The gasp was enough to get Wanda’s attention as she immediately pulled back from Vision and met your heartbroken stare. You both stared at each other for a moment until you schooled your features and nodded your head numbly. The fact that she had done this in a place that had been declared ‘ours’ broke your heart even more. You glanced at her one more time before you spun on your heel to head back in the direction of the elevator.

The movement seemed to snap Wanda out of her shock as she sprang into action. “Y/n! Wait!” Wanda shouted after you, her voice cracking. You could hear the frantic sound of her footsteps following you and the sound of Vision flying away.

Clenching your jaw, you kept walking, ignoring the desperation in her voice. Before you could board the elevator, she caught you by the arm and spun you around to face her. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks and her lips trembled when you finally looked at her. You shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to look into the eyes you once believed held your world.

“Please, let me explain.” She said, a sob escaping her lips.

Faintly you shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady as you opened your eyes once again. “I don’t think there’s anything to explain.” You mumbled weakly as you yanked your arm out of her hold and tried to turn away again, but she simply took hold of your arm again, her grip tightening.

“I love you!” She cried frantically, desperate to get you to stay.

Her words that used to comfort you now stirred resentment within you. “Don’t say that!” You shouted back at her as tears began to fall from your eyes. “You don’t get to say that anymore! You lost that privilege when you decided to cheat on me!”

Suddenly all the fight drained out of you as though saying it out loud made it all the more real. You covered your face with your hands, quiet sobs falling from your lips. Words you never thought you’d ever say following. “You cheated on me…”

Wanda collected you in her arms and for a moment you let her as you cried into her shoulder. Her own sobs shook her body as her hold around you tightened. “I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Why’d I let you in my heart?” You whispered more to yourself than her.

The tears that fell from her eyes fell more rapidly as she buried her head into the crook of your neck, her body shaking slightly. “Please, Y/n…”

Mustering all your strength, you pushed her away. “How many times?” you asked, your eyes on the floor because you weren’t sure you even wanted to know.

Once again, she reached out to you, but you merely stepped back. “Answer me, Wanda.”

“Twice,” She whimpered, “But it was only a kiss!” she added hastily as if she hoped that would make it better.

Your eyes clenched shut in pain. “Do you love him?” The silence that followed was all the answer you needed as you opened your eyes to meet hers once more.

“I love you.” She whispered.

“I think we’re done here. I truly wish you happiness with him... since you were willing to set fire to what we had for him.”

Before she could react, you stepped on the elevator and shut the door, sliding down the wall as soon as she disappeared from your view. Sobs wracking your body. The shattered remnants of your heart lying on the floor with you.

Since your relationship had formed in the haze of summer on this exact same roof, it seemed only poetic that it ended there too.

Part 5! I had such a hard time with this chapter, I honestly started and re-started it at least 3 times. Don’t kill me though, it’s a journey and I’d say we’re only about half way through. You never know what will happen. As always, hope whoever is reading enjoyed! Thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

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menofcolorswitchbodiestoo · 3 years

Photo

Episode:

-Shanghai Swap Meat - Part 1

‘’What’s wrong with you dude? Have you unclogged the toilet yet?’’ My cousin asked.

‘’No, I haven’t done that ... yet.’‘

‘’Then what’s bothering you?’’

‘’Oh, nothing except that I’m the biggest loser of the family, and my life kind of sucks.’’

‘’Oh don’t be so hard on yourself Alan you’re not the brightest star of our family but you’re not the biggest failure either.’’

‘’Thanx cousin but let’s be honest I kinda screwed up. Dropped out twice, failing my classes again, and kicked out by dad because he’s embarrassed by his low-life son. We’re both 23 years old cousin but you already have your own butchery. Small business, but you build something yourself, you achieved something. What did I achieve? High School, that’s pretty much it.’’

‘’Don’t worry too much Alan you’re a late bloomer good things will come to you eventually. Until then, I don’t mind you here helping me in the shop in exchange for sleeping on my couch.’’

‘’Awesome, so in what way does that make my life suck any less? A young, late bloomer, dropout, kicked out, working for free in his cousin’s butchery and sleeping on his couch in downtown Shanghai, no offense cousin. You’re right I’m living the life!’’

I turned and ran into something massive and got pushed back to the display.

‘’Can’t you watch where you walk runt?!’’ A booming voice said.

I looked up and I saw a man... no a mountain of solid muscles. From a quick glance, I noticed his thick pecs, wide boulder-sized shoulder, arms and legs thick as tree trunks, and the thickest ass in Asia.

‘’Move aside runt. Do you have my order ready butcher?’’

‘’But of course Mr. Kang I have already set it apart for you.’’ My cousin walked to the fridge.

‘’Here is your order Mr. Kang: 7 Chicken breast, 5 pork chops, 3 lean steaks, and the rest of your order. Only the best quality for you Mr. Kang.’’ With difficulty, my cousin got the heavy bags with raw meat on the counter.

‘’Finally.’’ Said the enormous brute said with his deep baritone manly voice. With one arm, he easily picked up the bags my cousin struggled to get up earlier from the counter. I was amazed by his build. This guy weighed at least 330 lbs with an impressive 6’5 height.

‘’Do you have in here someplace where I can take a piss?’’

‘’Of course, Mr. Kang toilet is in the back second door on the right.’’ My cousin replied. The bodybuilder walked past us, walking to the back.

‘’Who was that God cousin?‘’

‘’God? No Alan customer, a big spender. Samual Kang is a former pro bodybuilder living here in Shanghai. He’s now founder and CEO of a successful chain of gyms across China, produces and sells nutrition and I thought he did some acting and modeling too. He always buys here his meat and a lot of it because it has not yet been processed.’’

"What does he have that I don't have?" "I asked him, feeling like my life sucked even more than I thought... reality just hit me hard.

‘’Well.... money, a penthouse, a gorgeous model as his girlfriend, money, a successful business, fans, a great body and again money.’’

‘’Haha, if you only were as good at making me feel better as you are at cutting meat’‘.

*Sigh*.

‘‘I wish I had his life, he seems to have his shit in order. And have you seen his body?! It takes years of dedication to get so puffed up! I would look awsome!’‘

‘’So you want to be like Mr. Kang don’t you Allen?’’ My cousin began staring seriously at me, he had never been so creepy.

''Uhm yeah kind of, didn't you hear me the first time cousin?''

He picked up a small plastic bottle with some green gunk under the counter. ‘’Drink this cousin!’’

‘’What is this?! How long did you keep this?’’’ I opened the bottle and the smell was horrific! ‘’Ugh, this smells awful cousin like grandpa’s feet, just throw it into the trashcan’’.

‘’Just drink it, Alan. For once just listen and do something that is going to make a difference in your life.’’

My cousin still had this creepy serious expression on his face. I felt I had to prove something to him by drinking it but I also didn’t want to drink whatever was inside this bottle.

‘’Alright alright, I will drink it!’’

I opened the bottle again and knocked back the disgusting green juice all at once down my throat.

‘’See... happy now cousin? Now let’s do a reality check… did drinking this turn my life upside down?... Uhm, nope it didn’t. It only left a bitter taste in my mouth ugh...so thanks for that cousin very helpful.’’

‘’Just give it some time’’. My cousin said.

‘’But we’re almost closing, so I’m going to bed... I mean the couch’’.

Then it hit me, I suddenly felt an enormous rush. Out of nowhere, I felt an enormous pressure on my bladder.

''What did you do to me cousin?!'' I yelled. ''Oh man, this is going bad! Out of my way cousin!'' I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom in the back. It felt like I could snap anytime.

I stormed into the bathroom to the toilet. Shit, I forget to unclog it. I turn to the only urinal seeing Samual Kang standing in front of it.

‘’Can you hurry up, please?!’’ Damn, I can’t hold it anymore! I got pulled to the urinal as something forced me to.

‘’Shut up runt can’t you see I’m busy! And don’t you dare to look!’’ Mr. Kang shouted at me.

‘’Oh, come on hurry up!!!’’ I couldn’t handle it anymore! And then my feet got off the ground and I smashed right into Mr. Kang’s back.

‘’Didn’t I tell you to sh...WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING GET OFF ME!’’

‘’I’m so sorry Mr. Kang I don’t know what is happening!’’ I tried to apologize and to get off Mr. Kang’’s large back, I put my hands on his back to push me off, but somehow I sank through into his back!

‘’WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME!’’ (*we said simultaneously*)

My arms sank deeper into Mr. Kang’s back as well as my legs that were already halfway in.

‘’Please, stop! It hurts… get out!’’ Mr. Kang yelled and began to stumble as he tried to walk away.

‘’Stand still before you make us fall and we break something!’’ We stopped. Wait did I just do that did I just controlled his legs?!

I pushed my second arm into Kang’s right arm and use both to slowly pull my body into his. I tried to move my fingers inside Mr. Kang´s large hands. His large sausage fingers moved on my command!

‘’Dude I’m somehow connected to your body! Looks like I can control this body. Awesome!’’ I shouted.

‘’No this isn’t possible!’’ Kang stumbles around the room as the two of us fight for control. Spasming and swinging his arms, Kang attempts to push me out. But I sleeved my skinny arms into his and now control these massive arms.

With a malicious grin splitting on my own face, I bring Sam’s hands up to his face and began to feel it and then going down to caress his muscles. It’s so weird I feel like I’m feeling it with my own hands. Mr. Kang almost collapses on the ground as I continue pushing.

‘’No, no big guy can’t let that happen, these strong legs of ours can easily hold us both!’’ I forced Mr. Kang into a standing position with my arms against the toilet wall. Mr. Kang Still trembling with an occasional spasmatic twitching, while I’m moving around inside him. I get deeper and deeper inside his body. It’s warm inside and a bit tight. I can feel Samual Kang’s cock getting hard as I shove mine errected cock into his. Samual groans and gasps in a mixture of agony and pleasure. I chuckle at the thought of what I was doing to Samual and continue exploring his body in this new exciting way.

"That's enough! Get out of me...leave my body alone!"

‘’Nah why stop now? Now let’s see what’s inside that head of yours Samual Kang.’’

I push my head into Kang’s and the last of me into him. I had now been fully absorbed by Mr. Kang’s bodybuilder body.

I opened my eyes looking at this amazing muscle bod now fully under my control. First let’s take this shirt off MY muscles deserve to be seen. I flexed my biceps.

‘‘OH YEAH! BRING IT! HOLY CRAP!’‘

We left one last moan... and then a flash of light appeared. We were pulled out of eachother, separated. Everything went dark.

Samual Kang fell behind on the floor while Allen fell forward into the urinal.

...A few hours passed...

*PHONE RINGS*

‘’Uhm, Come on cousin just a few more minutes. I… I just had the weirdest dream ever. That green stuff... ugh you gave me was strong or was that also a part of the dream. I...I just need a little bit more sleep’’...

PHONE MESSAGE BANK:

*beep* Mr. Kang you have 38 messages.

Latest message received 1 minute ago.

*beep* (Allen’s voice:) ‘’Answer the phone! I don’t know how the fuck you did this little runt but I’m, uh, I think I'm in the wrong body, your body’’.

*beep* (Allen’s voice:) ‘‘Allen that’s your name right ‘‘Allen’‘, check your friggin voicemail please we have to fix this. Damn it! Oh my head still hurts! Did you really have to smash this head into the fucking urinal?! Call me back.’‘

- To be continued -

#male body swap #Asian x Asian #menofcolorswitchbodiestoo

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biisexualemma · 3 years

Text

beating pt.3. bucky barnes

word count: 3.2k

warnings: blood, violence, injury

requested: not really, i just wrote this cuz all i can think about is bucky barnes in tfatws and this is my only way of dealing with all those thoughts

plot: you, sam and bucky take the shield

a/n: ok so this is part 3 to the winter soldier series i've been writing lol this is set in episode 5 with you involved in that insane fight scene with sam, bucky and walker! also! finally watched tfatws finale last night and i was so overwhelmed, i am so grateful to marvel for giving us the masterpiece that was wandavision, and then following it flawlessly with tfatws. i'm just in awe! anyway! hope you like this! i am enjoying writing this series!

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.4 / masterlist

"walker," sam's voice echoed through the warehouse you had followed walker into, approaching the man with the shield with caution. you were still trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours, everything you'd seen. you couldn't look at walker the same way after watching him repeatedly plunge steve's shield into that soldiers chest. you could still hear the mans screams for mercy ringing in your ears. you had never taken to walker, but this had shifted your dislike of him into a deep, disgusted hatred. all three of you knew what needed to be done without having to communicate it. you had to take the shield.

"you guys should see a medic, you don't look so good," his eyes trailed over the three of you, meeting you from across the room. his eyes lingered on you, your eyes boring into his, eyebrows slightly furrowed, a crease forming between them. he pulled away, turning his back to you. you gulped, watching him pace around in circles. it was unsettling, he was visibly agitated. you wondered, very briefly, whether he regretted his actions, underneath all that rage. you had seen something when he locked eyes with you, you just weren't sure what it was.

"stop. walker," sam intervened, bringing walkers pacing to a halt.

"what?" suddenly he was defensive, like he had been waiting for the judgement to be thrown at him. his voice raised slightly. "you saw what happened. you know what i had to do."

you shook your head lightly, your eyes locked on the imposter, traipsing around with that shield, dipped in blood. it made you feel sick. he turned his attention to you again, noticing your silent disapproval. he took a step towards you, letting his emotions get the better of him for a split second. "i killed him because i had to! he killed lemar!"

you swallowed the lump in your throat, clenching your fists together at your sides. you didn't take kindly to him taking his anger out on you, you would rather have him just own up to what he did instead of trying to pass the blame.

bucky shifted, unsettled with walker even looking at you for too long after everything that had happened. he wasn't taking any chances with you. his jaw clenched, he took a subtle step closer to you and held out a hand to halt walker from coming any closer.

"he didn't kill lemar, john," bucky's voice was almost the tiniest bit understanding, despite his standoffish manner. walker scoffed, not even taking notice of how much closer bucky was standing to you now, he was too caught up in his own thoughts. he continued pacing back and forth. you proceeded to watch his every move, anticipating a reaction from him. you were waiting for him to explode again. "don't go down that road. believe me, it doesn't end well."

your eyes flickered towards bucky, the last thing you had expected was for him to show any kind of sincerity towards john walker. but, then, there was a lot to bucky that you didn't yet understand. you understood sam was trying to avoid another fight by talking walker down, bucky must've been following his lead by trying to relate to walkers situation.

walker, however, didn't seem the slightest bit comforted by bucky's words, in fact, he almost looked embarrassed by the comparison between bucky and himself.

"i'm not like you," your eyebrows twitched into a frown when he spat the words at bucky. instinctively you took a step forwards, tilting your head slightly, suddenly feeling the urge to hit walker. bucky's hand grazed yours, like he knew exactly what you were thinking, and silently willing you to not hit him. yet, at least. you settled for gritting your teeth and holding your tongue.

"listen, it was the heat of the battle. okay?" sam ignored the sharpness in walkers tone, continuing his attempt to talk him down. if anyone was going to get through to this man, it was sam. he had a knack for that kind of thing. "if you explain what happened, they may consider your record," this felt like bullshit. what happened had happened. you knew, first hand, that the government wasn't exactly forgiving, especially when you kill a man in broad daylight with captain america's shield. "we don't want anyone else to get hurt."

you glanced at the shield in his hand one more time, your stomach twisting as you did. everything about that shield being in that mans arm felt wrong, and the blood coating the lower half of the shield was disturbing, to put it lightly. you often wondered how this whole mission would have gone down if steve were here, instead of walker. walker had managed to make a mess of every aspect of this mission, he had gone out of his way to make your jobs harder, without even realising he was doing it. you couldn't let yourself think about it for too long without your heart aching from the loss of your friend, and the sight in front of you taking his place.

"john," sam spoke again after a brief moment of silence. "you gotta' give me the shield, man," you knew as soon as the words were spoken that this wasn't going to go down well.

walker lifted his head from the shield, his eyes locking with sam's, along to bucky's, and then yours. bucky grabbed your wrist to stop you from jumping walker preemptively. walkers eyes lingered on where bucky clutched onto you, choking out a breathy laugh, with not the slightest hint of amusement. you closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, anticipating the fight that had been long overdue to break out.

"oh," he breathed. "so that's what this is," his stare hardened, his eyes not leaving sam's now. you wanted to snatch the shield out of his hand and run before this became something far too messy. if it wasn't for bucky's grip, you were sure you would have at least tried to. "you almost got me."

"you made a mistake," you wished you could be as forgiving as sam, but you had too much anger, and too much hatred for this man.

"you don't wanna' do this," walker warned, and in someways he was right. none of you wanted to do this. you didn't necessarily want to get into a battle with an unhinged, super soldier with no concern for whether you lived or died. but you couldn't leave without that shield. so it had to happen.

"yeah, we do," you spoke harshly, catching walkers attention, you yanked your wrist out of bucky's grip.

bucky was the first to move, and suddenly everything was moving very quickly. bucky's arm connecting with the vibranium shield, sam kicked back onto the floor with force. you had swung your leg at walker, only to have him duck, catch your ankle and throw you backwards, your back hitting into a metal beam. the impact made you hurl over on the floor with a groan.

with a grunt, bucky continued to fight walker, struggling to snatch the shield out of his arm. walker's elbow collided with bucky's nose, knocking him backwards before throwing another punch and bringing him down to his knees. you scrambled onto all fours, pushing yourself back onto your feet, sam following suit across from you. your eyebrows knitted, as walker heaved the shield over his head, about to strike bucky when you swung another kick to his head, catching him this time. the hit caught him off guard, allowing sam to use his wings to strike another blow.

all three of you were on him now, bucky back to his feet, as each of you threw one blow after the next at this man, and he caught every single one. after beating sam and winding him, and striking bucky in the face so sharply with the shield that he fell back, he caught your wrist and twisted it with an uncomfortable level of ease until something cracked. you let out a loud cry feeling your wrist fall limp, walkers foot immediately slamming into your ribs while you were distracted, knocking you to the ground with a thud.

bucky eyes moved up to where you lay on the floor, walker with his shield ready to take another crack at you while you were down. bucky intervened, his fist slamming into the shield repeatedly, pushing walker further and further back. fists were flung around, the sheer force behind the blows seemed to not make the slightest difference to either of them. walker flung himself at sam, his foot colliding with his face before swinging the shield back and letting to fly out of his hand, his full force behind it, hitting bucky square in the chest.

your breathing hitched in your throat, watching bucky's body fly across the room with the shield and land with a loud crash. your chest tightened, scrambling onto your feet, numb to any pain searing through your body at this point, as sam came up behind you and grabbed your arm to help you up.

"why are you making me do this?!" walkers voice boomed from across the room. your eyes widened with shear panic, your heart in your mouth when walker heaved bucky off the ground and flung his body across the room, slamming into one of the metal beams. you couldn't stop yourself from crying out his name as he collapsed against the hard floor, body limp and his left arm glitching next to him.

you hadn't noticed sam had left your side, soaring across the room to return to his attack on walker. you were solely focused on bucky and the way his body lay unmoving. sam preoccupied walker, allowing you to run over to your boyfriend, dropping to your knees and rolling him onto his back.

"buck," you gulped back the lump in your throat, your hands trembling slightly as they hovered over his face. he wasn't fully conscious, his eyes rolled, arm twitching every couple of seconds. you glanced over your shoulder, sam was manoeuvring around walker, managing to hold him on his own for now. you turned back, your unsteady hands touching his cheek, grazing the skin that was now bruised and bloody. your heart beating out of your chest, you didn't often see bucky like this, it was disturbing. "bucky-- please--"

your words caught in your throat when a hand clasped around your throat, tightening and yanking you away from bucky. you gasped for air as your supply became limited, your feet dragging against the floor. before walker could haul your across the room, sam blocked his path, holding out a cautious hand. your eyes watered the tighter he clenched his fist around your neck, both your hands desperately trying to release his strong grip.

"this isn't you, john," sam spoke with urgency, his eyes darting to where you were struggling desperately.

walker glanced down at you, your face turning pale the longer you tried to catch a breath. he gritted his teeth before letting you drop at his feet. you frantically gasped for air, feeling your lungs fill up again, your chest straining from your deep breaths.

"we could've been a team," he spat harshly.

bucky had regained his consciousness in this time, managing to force himself onto his feet again. he met you at your side, one hand resting against the small of your back, the other grabbing your forearm and helping you up. your vision blurred slightly at the sides, scrunching your eyes closed and reopening them, you saw walker ahead of you, on top of sam, physically restraining him. the deranged look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine.

"i am captain america!" he bellowed, echoing through the empty warehouse. bucky, whose attention had solely been on you up until this point, dragged his eyes over to sam and walker. both of you froze watching as walker ripped sam's wings clean off. your mouth hung open, hesitating for a second in shock. but when you saw him lift that damn shield again, you stumbled out of bucky's grip, as fast as your legs would carry you, snatching the knife out of your holder and flinging it at him. the knife sliced his fingers, he let out a yelp and faltered, giving bucky enough time to tackle walker off of sam.

the pair went flying across the room, both quickly gathering themselves up again. walker looked like hell, his face dirtied and bloodied, his eyes wide and crazed as he and bucky met again. fists flew back and forth as they beat each other with as much force as they had in them, walker was the one in the end to grab a fistful of bucky's hair, pulling the shield back and slamming it into bucky's face. you couldn't stand back and watch, the shield now pushed up against bucky's arms as he desperately tried to stop the shield from coming into contact with him again.

you caught walker off guard, swinging in from his blind side and connecting your fist with his jaw as hard as you could, giving bucky enough leeway to regain himself. he held walkers arm in place and you grabbed the shield. sam came up behind you, gripping the shield and pulling with you as hard as you could. bucky was face to face with walker, their hatred for one another in that moment was unparalleled.

sam switched his thrusters to high, walker let out a torturous cry, his arm breaking out of shape as the shield slipped off, both you and sam flying backwards. you groaned, the shield landing on top of your chest as you lay against the cold floor. your head was pulsating, blood soaking your hair and your shirt. you could feel every wound you'd pushed aside before, now worse than ever. you rolled onto your side, gasping as the pain surged through your chest, blood dripping from your mouth when it fell open.

you winced, using your last bit of strength to push yourself upright onto your hands, letting the shield fall with the clunk beside you. bucky was already back onto his feet, his first instinct was to reach you, but before he could get close enough, walker's voice echoed from over his shoulder.

"it's mine," you heard him spit, his eyes locked onto where you lay, the shield beside you. only bucky stood in between you and walker. this guy really didn't know when to quit.

your eyes shifted up to where sam stood over you now. "it's over, john."

"it's mine," he growled, swinging at bucky who caught his fist before he could get anywhere near you. bucky threw a forceful punch to his jaw and threw walker over his shoulder before he could regain himself. you grabbed the shield, lifting it so sam could take ahold of it. bucky had swung walkers entire body over him like he weighed nothing, letting sam and the shield collide with his body. you cringed watching walkers body fall heavily to the ground, sam and bucky collapsing around the shield.

you let out deep, laboured breaths, your hand now clutched to your ribs that were searing with pain. everything was surging through you all at once, your brows furrowed and your tongue between your teeth. the metallic taste was swimming in your mouth, you felt wounded and entirely exhausted.

bucky dropped the shield next to sam, his eyes boring into his for a split second before his attention was turned to your body hurled on its side. he kneeled beside you, his metal hand touching the side of your face, his fingers running through your hair and tilting your face up so you could meet his stare. his eyes were soft and tired, his eyebrows knitted together tightly as his eyes moved over your bloodied face. his thumb grazed over your bottom lip, dragging it down, blood transferring onto his skin from yours. his expression was hard and unnerving. he didn't have the energy in him to ask if you were okay, he just looked at you, his heart cracked wide open as he did.

you nodded faintly, answering the question he couldn't will himself to ask. you lifted your uninjured hand to where his palm touched your cheek, grazing your fingers over his skin. your eyes shifted to where his skin split open across the bridge of his nose, where walker had ploughed the shield into his face, and over to the bruise growing against his cheekbone. you gulped down on the lump sitting in your throat, and found your eyebrows knitting together. you knew he would heal quicker than most, but he was wounded in more ways than one after this fight, you could tell by the look in his eyes, he couldn't take much more.

this felt like a knock on the chin, everything that had happened felt heavier somehow. you had the shield but at what cost? what did it mean for you guys now? how did you move forward?

bucky gave you a stiff nod, his jaw clenching as he moved his hand away from your face, your own hand falling back to your side. you, unfortunately, did not have super soldier serum running through your veins, so you felt the impact of your injuries a lot more than bucky did. you lifted your right arm with caution, expecting bucky to take it and pull you onto your feet, but he didn't. he pushed himself back onto his feet, his hard stare moving away from yours.

you tilted your head, trying to understand what was going through his head, but that had never been an easy task with bucky. "buck," you mumbled, your voice hoarse. you watched his hand clench into a fist and unclench again.

he sniffed, taking a deep breath before glancing over to sam who was keeled over the shield. their eyes met for a second before bucky spoke. "look after her. i need to take care of something."

your eyebrows knitted tighter together, knowing you couldn't push yourself up and chase after him. he knew that too. "bucky," your tone was harsher this time. you hissed, hand flying to your ribcage where a searing pain worked its way through your abdomen after trying to shift yourself off the ground and over to him. you knew why he didn't want you to go with him, you knew where he was going and you couldn't let him do it. you had done everything on this mission together.

"would that be zemo you're taking care of?" sam voiced exactly what you were thinking, his tone cold.

he turned his back on sam, his eyes trailing over you. "go with sam," he spoke through gritted teeth. "i won't be gone long."

your frown deepened, you shook your head faintly. "buck-- don't," his eyes locked with yours for second, his eyelids fluttering like they did when he was tired. you wanted to be enough to stop him, but his mind was set.

"i have to," he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to walk away from you before you could talk him out of it.

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hearteyesandviolence · 3 years

Text

Summer Gay Update

Hello all....I still exist....been a turbulent summer (everything okay, just been a lot going on) but I am more or less back....don't know how often I'll be on, but I wanted to give a report on all the gay I have seen while I've been away

Deena/Sam (And Sarah/Hannah) Fear Street

Spoilers for Fear Street

These two (and many ways, these four) have owned my heart for most of the summer. I love horror movies, and I have always wanted to see a a wlw couple a) be actual characters in a movie, not just window dressing, and b) live through the damn thing. So imagine my delight when not only did this series feature a lesbian couple, it makes them the core of the movies, and gives them one beautiful happy ending. The dynamic between these two is incredible, and I have not yet begun to accept that I might never see them again.

Sarah and Hannah are amazing as well. I normally can't do tragedy these days, but maybe it was that Deena and Sam were still out there, or that it was just so well acted, or maybe just that I knew it was coming, but I was able to not just move past the tragedy but appreciate it for what it was....I do kind of wish we could have gotten a scene of their ghosts meeting up though...

Casey/Izzie Atypical

I watched just the scenes of these two to see if they stuck the landing and....I dunno....the actors are great, the chemistry is off the charts, but a lot of the scenes themselves fell flat for me, and I blame that on the writing, which just does not seem to be very good to me. I know it's not totally fair to judge a seres based on a few scenes you're essentially watching out of context, but so much of the dialgoue and conflict felt really forced, and it left me feeling disappointed, despite getting endgame bis (Though I still think Izzie is a lesbian. Did she identify as Bi and I missed it? Don't wanna disrespect that, just my headcannon)

Mouse/Harper Bigshot

Now, I've been away from tumblr, but I feel like even so, I've seen barely anything in the community about these two, and they're super cute! An awkward, goofy girl, falling head over heels for an serious minded overachiever, and those feelings getting reciprocated, really got me feeling mushy in an old school way. Plus, it's on a Disney family show, which i never thought would happen, and there's zero angst about them being into girls. I dunno, it's not earth-shattering, but I feel like something like this, a simple cute couple, would have been really good for me to have seen when I was a preteen.

Raelle/Scylla Motherland: Fort Salem

SPOILERS FOR THE PILOT FOR MOTHERLAND AND ALSO SOME OF WHAT COMES LATER MAYBE?

Okay, so this is another ship where I watched nearly every scene without seeing the show...I fell pretty hard for it....falling in love with the mark is one of my favorite tropes, and a big kiss against helicopter wind? That knocks my socks off....and the show intrigued me enough that I actually wanted to watch it, not just skim the wlw scenes like I'm so often guilty of....and I'm digging the show....but what Scylla does in the first episode...oooohhh nooo,...I knew she did some evil stuff, but I was not prepared for mass murder. That feels like a hard line to come back from, and while I know she undergoes some character development, i don't know how you make up for that. The community has a bad habit of softening characters that do terrible things because they love them (Regina from OUAT, Catra, even my beloved Lexa to an extent), and i don't like to see history repeat. I'm gonna keep watching the show, but I worried I'm not gonna be able to enjoy those soft romantic moments knowing what I know. Would love to have my mind changed though!

(Also, the deal with her face.....i feel like that gets retconned? So the face we know as Scylla is really Scylla? But I feel like that was probably not their intention when they did the pilot, but changed it after the fact, even though it makes no sense? Does it make more sense later?)

SHONI the Wilds

I am still an utter and complete fool for these two....just knowing we are going to get scenes of them being blissfully in love....god damn....

Anyway, this has been the gay update. Please stay tuned for more gay.

#shoni #goodfoe #raelle x scylla #cazzie #sameena #mouse x harper

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sambvcks · 3 years

Text

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter three // didn’t care much how long i lived

summary: bucky receives a lesson on modern music over cheap beers and freshly baked scones.

warnings: mentions of abuse, food, alcohol consumption, character death (sorry)

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: besties...how we feeling about today’s episode??? using this as a coping mechanism :)

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

[ PREVIOUS | NEXT ]

Your record collection was extensive and collecting an unhealthy layer of dust since you had inherited them from your grandmother. It didn’t take long to fish out a Best Of album from the vast shelves, handing over the sleeve to Bucky, who sat patiently on your forest green couch, as you fiddled with the turntable’s needle.

To busy himself, he read over the repertoire of songs listed on the back.

“Let’s Get It On?”

“Usually, a guy buys a girl dinner first, Bucky.” You took a cheeky swig of your beer with an eyebrow raise as he flushed at the insinuation. “We’ll start easy. If I Could Build My Whole World Around You. A criminally under-appreciated love song.”

A bouncy beat crackled through from the speakers as you settled into the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you. Today’s choice of pajama bottoms displayed little snowflakes across a navy background, despite the heat outside that still lingered into nighttime.

“I like it.” Bucky decided.

“Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell have so many amazing songs together. She might not sound like it on record, but she had a hard life. Abusive, cheating partners. Brain cancer that killed her young. Hard to know what anyone’s going through behind closed doors.”

I’d put so much love where there is sorrow, I’d put joy where there’s never been before.

“I really like it.”

Your apron still hung from your waist, the gentle tick of the kitchen timer in the shape of a grey cat sat by your side. A reminder of the scones you were whipping up when Bucky unexpectedly appeared on your doorstep. You didn’t question him or bring up the late hour. Simply ushered him in with a smile and a beer shoved into his gloved hand.

Bucky feels comfortable for the first time in a long time. Eyes focused, mind stagnant. Your perfume, woodsy and natural, lingers in the air and he has to take a long gulp of his drink just to occupy himself for just a second.

“I’m glad you like it. Though, I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like Marvin Gaye. It’s like not liking Queen.”

“Queen?”

The timer rattled on the coffee table and the smell of vanilla and blueberries nipped at Bucky’s nose.

“Saved by the bell! I don’t have the time to berate you on not knowing about Queen.”

You bustled your way back into the kitchen, sliding oven mitts onto your hands as you inspected the oven with a professional certainty. The record out and into the next track as Bucky watched on, your shoulders swaying to the slow tempo. You were light on your feet as you plucked one tray from the heat and replaced it with another.

It was so easy for Bucky to imagine this world as his, with the soft swing of Motown as the soundtrack to your shared afternoons. In a different life, he would come home to your baking, ask how studying went as you swayed in the kitchen together. You would wash dishes next to one another, hips pressed close, and giggle when he would press his sudsy hands onto your cheeks. You would smear remnants of cake batter on his and he would let you feed him dessert from your fingers.

It wasn’t possible, he knew. Probably ever. You would be graduating school soon, off to be an important attorney and he would still just be your across the hallway neighbor who you sometimes shared desserts and pleasantries with. You would find out who he was eventually. Everyone did. You would leave. Everyone did.

You would simply be another in a long line of failed attempts by James Buchanan Barnes.

Still, he thought, we can have this one simple night. Where you don’t know who he is, and he can imagine that it lasts long after he retreats back to his apartment.

‘Heaven must have sent you from above.’ Crooned the lovesick singers on your record player.

As you returned to the living room with another beer and the promise of scones as soon as they cooled, Bucky could only think one thing.

He was definitely starting to like Marvin Gaye.

He was starting to like you, too.

When he returned back to his apartment, hours later with a pile of records you insisted he borrow in his arms and a belly full of blueberry scones, he fell into bed without a care in his mind. It was his first full night of sleep in ninety years.

Bucky started appearing on your doorstep more often.

Your number was now saved in his phone and was his most frequently used contact. You were his secret, though, something he didn’t even share with Dr. Raynor. No matter how many times she tried to get him to speak about his troubling lack of acquaintances.

You were the one thing in the world untouched by all the destruction waging a war between his ears, you were easy and simple and God, it had been a long time since anything had been simple. You didn’t mind that he was brooding and a little bit clueless, or his cheesy jokes and complaints about technology these days.

His record collection was quickly growing, though it was still nowhere near yours.

Most of all, he liked sitting in your apartment, at your kitchen counter or on that forest green sofa of yours. Sometimes, you would let him pick a record and tell him everything you could remember about it. Other times, you would read from your heavy law books and he’d pretend to understand the cases and terminology, head resting against the back of your couch, admiring how your brows would furrow in concentration. He’d tell you not to hunch over your book, but you’d insist you were fine, only to be complaining about your neck the next time he saw you.

“I wish I read more actual books, you know? It seems like all I know these days are case studies.”

The next visit he’d have a worn copy of one of his favorite books tucked under his arm. He’d read to you until you’d doze off to the stories of Bilbo Baggins and his team of dwarves, a blanket tucked up to your neck.

Every visit cemented yourself further and further into his identity, until his trips to the used bookstore down the block became weekly and his morning runs became longer as you pushed more and more baked goods his way. You’d kiss his cheek as you said your goodbyes, leaning against your doorframe as he disappeared into his apartment.

He was happy. Positively, unbelievably happy.

Two days before Bucky’s next scheduled visit, Steve died in his sleep.

Pneumonia, or something, Bucky didn’t really comprehend any of the newscast beyond the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD’ flashing in bold letters across his television screen.

Sam called early that morning and Bucky just knew. He knew what was waiting for him on the other end of that call, so he shut his phone off and laid back on the hardwood floor of his living room, dead to the world.

He didn’t speak to anyone for a few days, not even bothering with his daily runs or grocery store trips. Your knocks at his door went unanswered, with no trace that you had even stood in the hallway waiting for him other than a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies on his doormat. The only appointment he kept was his therapy, where he stared out the window and counted down the minutes until he could leave. Each attempt on Dr. Raynor’s part to bring up Steve was shut down as quickly as it was brought up.

Finally, a week later, a pounding at the door woke him from a restless afternoon nap.

“Buck, I know you’re in there.”

Sam. Of course.

“These boxes are heavy, come on!”

Sam Wilson took up Bucky’s entire doorway with his broad shoulders, the boxes stacked in his arms taking up the rest. Bucky was quick to usher him in the door, eyeing yours across the hall. He knew one look at an Avenger on his stoop would finally connect the dots for you, and you’d never speak to the Winter Soldier again.

“Keep your voice down.” Bucky shoved the final box through the doorway before securing the lock in place.

Sam surveyed his barren living room, eyes flicking to the crumpled bedsheets gathered on the floor next to his sofa but didn’t linger for long.

“I was worried about you, man.”

It used to be ‘we’, but now it’s just Sam.

“Nothing to worry about.” Bucky pushed past him to his kitchen, collecting stray dishes he hadn’t bothered to move to the sink before then. He felt Sam’s careful gaze on him the entire time. He hated that. He hated how much Sam cared.

He mostly hated how much it reminded him of Steve.

“Found these boxes in Steve’s attic. Had your name on them so I thought you might want ‘em.”

Bucky swallowed hard, focused on scrubbing the dishes under water so hot it was turning the skin on his flesh hand a violent red.

“I know this is hard, Buck-”

The glass he had been rinsing shattered between his fingers and Sam took a step back as Bucky heaved in uneven breaths. There was a long silence between the two grieving men, neither able to fully understand the other. Sam would never feel Bucky’s ninety-year heartache, the abandonment and fear of the life ahead of him. Bucky would never understand the weight on Sam’s shoulders or his unease at the shield tucked under his bed at home.

“I just want to be alone.”

Sam could do nothing but respect his wish.

“Call if you need anything.” Were his departing words as he showed himself out.

Bucky got to work cleaning up the broken glass.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #tfatws

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slutforbuck · 3 years

Text

Where've You Been? -- Bucky Barnes x Reader

I started this the day after TFAWS episode 2 came out, and I just finished it tonight. It's not the best, but I hated leaving it not done.

Tears crowded your eyes as you watched the man on TV. John Walker. The “new” Cap is what they called him. Turning off the TV, you glanced down at your phone to see a message from Sam. “I didn’t know that they would do this.” You smiled softly, knowing that Sam was just doing what he thought was right. No-one could replace Steve, especially not this man. You went back through your messages, seeing a text you had sent Bucky earlier that morning. Should I? No..I’m sure he’s seen it..I don’t need to bother him again. You sighed, wishing he would at least call you so you could check on him once in a while. He had been dodging your calls and messages since Steve went back to be with Peggy. From what Sam had told you, he hadn’t been able to get a hold of him either. Making your way to the bedroom, you began getting dressed. As you tossed your phone to the bed, the screen lit up, ringing with an unknown number. You grabbed it, answering with a questioning “Hello?” “Is this Y/n Y/l/n?” “Yes? Who is this?” “Hi Y/n, this is John Walker! I heard you used to work closely with Steve Rogers.” You stiffened, wondering what this man could possibly want with you. “Yes, Steve and I were close. How exactly can I help you?” “Well as I’m sure you know, I’m taking over the mantle as Captain America. I could use someone like you to help me out.” He sounds about as arrogant as he looks. “Mr. Walker, I really don’t think that would be the best idea.” You heard a huff on the other end of the phone and rolled your eyes in response. “Ma’am, we know that after Steve left, you stopped working. You belong in the field, you are amazing at what you do.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes in frustration. “I’ll try one mission. ONE. Send me details later.” You dropped your phone on the bed as you hung up and whispered to yourself, “Steve please forgive me. I hope Sam and Buck will understand.”

“Where are we going Walker?” You leaned back, arms folded and shot a death glare at the man. “We’re going to help some of your old friends.” Smirking he moved closer to you, “You ready?” You looked down as the helicopter began lowering and saw Sam fighting on the top of a truck. You immediately jumped into action, swinging down and landing on the back of the truck next to Sam. You tackled the man as you dropped, kicking him down the length of the truck. “What the—“ Sam flew upwards, then turned towards you. “Y/n? What are you doing here?” You laughed as you fought against the man in front of you, “Saving your ass apparently!” You jerked back as you saw a shield fly past you, barley missing the side of your head. Turning, you saw John and Lemar finally join you. They walked to Sam, “John Walker, Captain America.” “Lemar Hoskins.” “Looks like you guys could use some help.” Sam looked at you, both of you rolling your eyes. Suddenly, Sam flew off the truck, and John was knocked off. You sighed, and jumped down after him, watching as the truck full of soldiers continued down the road.

You propped your legs up on the seat of the jeep, hoping John would back off if he wasn't as close to you. He screwed up the mission, and you sure as hell weren’t going on another with him. “Hey you did great! We will definitely get them next time, we just need to regroup.” Rolling your eyes, you looked out the back of the jeep to the road. “There is no next time with me Walker.” “Now come on don't be like that.” John turned his head to look in front of the jeep and saw Sam and Bucky walking. He leaned forward and began honking the horn, trying to get their attention. The jeep pulls up next to them, and John opens the door, “So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” You looked out to see Sam ignoring you and made eye contact with Bucky. His eyes widened with surprise, then darkened with anger. Not being able to take a hint, John continued, “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three so..” Sam glanced up at John, then back forward, “Aliens, Androids, or wizards?” “Pretty sure.” You tuned the men out, looking up at the sky and wishing John would just shut the hell up. Feeling the car jerk to a stop, you looked at the men, all still arguing. “You ever jump on top of a grenade?” Don’t say it. Walker I swear if you tell them about that dumbass thing with your helmet and compare that to everything that Steve did… “Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long sto—“ “John shut up.” You interrupted him, tired of hearing his mouth. “Guys it’s 20 miles to the airport. Please get in.” You looked to Sam with pleading eyes. Bucky rolled his eyes and climbed in after Sam. With the extra people in the jeep now, you had to move your legs to make room. There goes your plan to keep John as far away as possible. Tapping your foot on the side of Bucky’s, you tried to get him to look at you. Bucky looked up and stared at you. Eyes not blinking, body not moving. You tried scoot forward to try to talk to him, you had missed him so much and hated that the two of you hadn’t been talking. As you scooted forward, John grabbed your arm and pulled you back against him. You stiffened, trying to pull away. “Let go of me Walker,” you speaking through closed teeth and a clenched jaw. “This would be easier if I had Cap’s wingmen with me. I’ve already got his best girl.” As he leaned in to press a kiss to the top of your head, Bucky stood, towering over the two of you. “Let. Her. Go.” His eyes were clouded with anger, and he reached down and quickly, but gently, pulled you to him. “You can go with us. You don’t have to stay with him.” As you went to answer him, John stood and put his hand on the small of your back, “Bucky I can take care of her, she’s with us.” “Stop the car!” The jeep jerked to a halt and you flew forward into Bucky’s arms. “Walker I am sick and tired of you walking around pretending that just because you carry a stolen shield that you’re him. You will NEVER be Steve. Steve was a good man. You’re just a soldier.” You swung yourself over the side of the jeep and began walking down the dirt road, Sam close behind. Bucky lingered for just a moment, looking at John, “If I ever see you touch her again without her permission, you won’t have an arm to hold that shield with.”

“What the hell were you doing with him y/n?” You looked away from Bucky, ashamed that you had even considered working with Walker. “First of all you don't need to be jumping out of helicopters. Second of all, you’re really supporting this guy? He’s a total ass!!” Something finally snapped, and you turned to glare at him, “Bucky I have done nothing since Steve left. All I had were the three of you. Sam had his own shit going on, and you!” You stopped and turned to him, poking him in the chest with a finger, “You have ignored my calls, my messages. You have avoided me since he left! I agreed to ONE mission. Just to see if I could still do it, without the three of you. I was given an opportunity, and yes I was pissed about the circumstance, yes I was uncomfortable. But I took the opportunity.” Turning back you walked away. “Y/n—“ You ignored the voice behind you as you glared at the road ahead of you. Sam looked to Bucky, “Not the best way to get her back White Wolf. You better go catch her.” Jogging, Bucky caught up to you. “Y/n I’m sorry. I was out of line.” You paused and looked to the tall man now standing in front of you. “Yea Buck you were.” Pushing past him, you continued down the road. “Y/n please wait. Talk to me.” “What else do you want me to say James? You weren’t there to stop me, and I needed to do something. I can’t live my life crying over Steve being gone, I have to get back to work at some point.” Tightening his jaw, he looked at you with a fire in his eyes. “I know he’s gone, and I know that you can’t sit around doing nothing. I know that. But with him? Why not with me and Sam?” “Are you kidding me Bucky??? I have called you, I have sent you messages! Multiple times a day and you IGNORE me! So working with you wasn’t an option. Sam was taking time with his family, he wasn’t even working. Don’t pull that crap with me Barnes. After being around Walker, I am NOT in the mood for your bullshit.” You turned away from him again, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Well that went over great Buck. Good job.” “Shut up Sam.” On the plane, Bucky tried to smooth things over again. “Come on Y/n, talk to me.” You rolled your eyes and turned to Sam. “So who was that on the truck?” “Flag Smashers. They’re stealing medicine and weapons and distributing them to people that have been displaced from the blip. We think they’ve taken a dose of the serum.” “Where would they have even gotten any?? Wasn’t the bit that HYDRA had the last of it?” “That we aren't sure about.”

You had just walked into your apartment when your phone began ringing. Glancing down, you saw Sam’s name across the screen. What the hell? “Sam?” “Hey Y/n. You need to get down to the police station. They arrested Bucky.” “They WHAT??! I’m on my way!” After quickly locking your door, you ran down to your car.

The doors to the station flung open as you stormed in, looking for Sam. He stood as he saw you and pulled you to a seat to explain what happened. “Sam why did they even stop? You were just talking!” Sam looked at his feet and then to you. “Y/n. You know why they stopped. Once they realized who Bucky was, they said they had a warrant out because he had missed therapy.” Before you could speak a woman’s voice came from behind you, “Sam? Y/n?” The two of you turned to face the woman as she stuck out her hand in an introduction. “I’m Dr. Raynor, Bucky’s therapist. I’ve heard a lot about the two of you.” You shook her hand as Sam nodded shortly, “Thank you for bailing him out Dr. Raynor.” “Me? I thought you did!” The three of you looked at each other confused, until you heard cameras snapping. “Oh please no..” You groaned, already becoming agitated and defensive. “You’re welcome sweetheart.” You looked up at John Walker, resisting the urge to spit on him or beat him. Sam stepped closer to you in an attempt to shield you from him. “Why did you bail him Walker?” “He’s an asset. We need him out in the field more than he needs to be in here or in therapy.” Sam tightened his grip on your arm as your eyes flashed with anger and you lunged towards him. “You motherfuc—“ A cold hand came down on your shoulder before you could finish your sentence and you looked up to see Bucky. “He’s not worth being arrested doll.” You looked up at Bucky, wanting to protest, but decided against it. “You need to leave before I decide that he’s wrong.” John laughed as he and Lamar began walking outside, “I’ll see you three outside. We need to talk.”

Dr. Raynor pulled Sam and Bucky towards an interrogation room, and motioned for you to follow, “We’re having a session. Now.” The chairs scraped across the hard floor as they were pulled closer together. “Who’s going first?” Bucky rolled his eyes as he looked at the ceiling, and Sam huffed, crossing his arms. “This is a waste of time Doc.” “I’ll go Dr. Raynor.” Barely coming out as a whisper, but your voice still bounced off the walls. Your eyes moved from the floor to Bucky, “What have I done to you Buck? We were so close..But you stopped talking to me. You completely dropped me, and then expected me to just come back to you with open arms. I don’t know what I did to make you so mad.” He looked to you and then Sam and scoffed. “Yea I left. What was I supposed to do? Steve left. Why wouldn’t you leave too?” Your jaw dropped and you laughed before you could stop yourself. “Are you kidding me Bucky? You really shut me out because you thought I’d leave you the same way Steve did?? You KNEW how much I loved you and how much I needed you. I would have done ANYTHING for you James.” Bucky looked at his boots, ashamed to look at you. “You weren’t the only one hurting Bucky. And just to remind you in case you forgot, we were together before you up and left. Then I find out from Sam that you’re DATING. So not only did you leave Sam and I as friends and ghost us both, you left me as a partner.” At this point your voice was becoming strained and soft and tears began to stream down your cheeks. Sam reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze, knowing how badly you had been hurting. Bucky looked at you, tears brimming, but not spilling. His mouth opened, then closed multiple times, not knowing what to say. He turned to Sam, unable to process his emotions for you at the moment. “Why did you give up the shield Sam?” “Why are you concerned about things that have nothing to do with you?” “Steve trusted you. He gave you that shield because he believed in you.” Anger began to flood his already strained voice as he leaned forward towards Sam, but gripping the armrest of the chair, trying to hold himself back. “And what if he was wrong about you? If he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about ME!” A single tear rolled down his face as he sat back in his chair, face going dark. Sam rolled his eyes and stood, “I’ll see the two of you outside.” When Bucky went to stand Dr. Raynor stopped him. “You may have had some sort of closure with Sam, but this hasn’t even been addressed. You have caused Miss. Y/l/n a lot of stress. You are going to talk to her before you leave this room.” Bucky looked over at you. You were holding your hands in your lap, staring at your feet, looking absolutely defeated. His heart broke a little seeing you so upset; he hadn’t seen you this upset in a very long time. “Y/n..I…” He tried to speak, but didn’t know what to say. Knowing that there was nothing he could say to make things better, he walked to you and kneeled in front of you. “Please Y/n, just look at me.” Hearing his soft voice, you looked up, still trying to avoid his piercing eyes. “Please.” You finally made eye contact, and almost broke again. “Doll, I know there’s nothing I can say to make what I did better. I know I fucked up. But..Sweetheart I did what I thought would be better for you. I didn’t want you to have to deal with me, to deal with this life.” Your eyes flashed as you stood. “That was a decision that you should have let me make James. I want you. I want this life. That was my decision to make, and you took it from me!” “I know..I know..” His voice was soft, sad. Tears streamed down both of your faces, and you dropped to your knees in front of him. “Stop taking care of me Buck. Let me take care of you for once. You’ve been through so much. Please.” Strong arms grasped your waist, holding you so tight that you thought they would squeeze the life right out of you. Turning to Dr. Raynor, you silently thanked her for the talk that you and Bucky so desperately had needed, then pulled him to his feet.

“Alright Sam, we’re ready, let’s go.” Red and blue lights flashed as you exited the police station. “So, how are we going to tackle this problem?” John Walker’s smug voice carried down the sidewalk to you. “Please tell me I don’t have to work with this dick again.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, “Not if I can help it.” With an undeserved confident strut, Walker made his way to you. “If we divide ourselves, we don't stand a chance. It would be an honor to work with you two. And an absolute pleasure to watch this pretty thing in action again.” A sick feeling bubbled in the pit of your stomach, and you involuntarily gagged, making Walker’s jaw drop. “Do you even know where they are Walker?” “Well. I. Well not right now, but it won’t take long for us to find them.” Walker’s voice raised and became harsher the more flustered he became. A smirk was plastered across your face, enjoying watching the man squirm when he was asked anything. Bucky placed his warm hand on the small of your back, beginning to guide you away as Sam spoke. “We don’t have to go through all of the hoops that you do Walker. We’re free agents, and besides, we actually know what the hell we’re doing.” As the words left Sam’s mouth, you stopped in your tracks and turned to see how John would react, knowing that it would be a good show. You watched as his eyes lit up with anger. “If you're not going to work with us Wilson, then a little piece of advice. Stay the hell out of my way.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #sam wilson #mcu #captain america #john walker #lamar hoskins #tfaws #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws spoilers #episode 2 #the star spangled man

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emwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine

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deascheck · 3 years

Text

Sam Winchester's Love

Summary: You are in a relationship with Sam Winchester. You don’t feel deserving of his love as your depression causes you to sink into a deep rut. Sam does some research about depression and responds to your lapse in happiness with a gentle approach that ends with him showing you just how much he loves you.

Word Count: 2906

Warnings: talk of depression and suicide/death, angst, and all the fluff with some smut added in there.

A/N: First- I’ve never written smut before. So be nice! Second, I struggle with depression and anxiety, and wanted to write a fic that expresses what would help me (or hopefully anyone struggling as well) feel appreciated when I’m low. I bolded symptoms of depression to help people see what it feels like to have depression. These are not the only symptoms. If you identify with one or more of the symptoms, I encourage you to reach out to someone and start a conversation. It could be a complete stranger or a loved one. (I'm always a listening ear, too!) Whatever you’re most comfortable with. All “Google results” are from my own google search. The crisis text line is a real resource for you to use, if you find yourself in a mental health crisis.

Also tagging a couple people who might like to read. Sorry if that's overstepping! @winchester09 @that-one-gay-girl @supernatural-harrypotter7 @winchest09

The one good thing about living in a bunker was that there were no windows. Your room that you shared with Sam Winchester was no different. It meant no morning sun could wake you up, and you could keep the room as dark and cool as you wanted to. And on this particular morning, your depression had you keeping the room as dark as you possibly could.

You knew the boys would be wondering where you were, since it was 10:30, and you were always up by 8:00. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t get dressed, brush your teeth or hair, or even get your legs swung over the edge of the bed. You were so emotionless that you couldn’t even cry. You simply didn’t care. Nothing felt important to you. You had no motivation to do anything except lie there in the gloom, curled around yourself, stuck in this dark rut.

You had no idea how much time had passed while you stayed there, motionless, until Sam came in, knocking softly as he opened the door. Your eyes glanced over to him and you could see the surprise and concern on his face at discovering your lack of activity.

“Y/N? Love, what are you still doing in bed? It’s 2:00 in the afternoon.”

You sighed. “I don’t care,” you said softly. “Nothing matters to me right now. I wish I would die. Then I wouldn’t be a burden to anyone anymore. No one would miss me.”

Sam knew you struggled with depression, but in the short time you’d been together, he had yet to see a truly deep depressive episode. It scared him, and he replied, “What? Y/N, I would miss you! You’re scaring me.”

You moved your head marginally to be able to look at him for real, and asked, “Would you let me be? I just need to be alone.” Your tone was expressionless, and it freaked Sam out.

He nodded and slowly and quietly closed the door. Once the door was latched firmly, Sam beelined for his laptop. He’d be damned if he was going to let you suffer alone and in silence.

Opening his computer, he typed in “symptoms of depression”. Among the results were, “fatigue, sleeping too much or too little, feelings of worthlessness or hopelessness, loss of interest in activities that once brought pleasure, appetite loss, feelings of sadness, loneliness, or ‘empty’ feelings, thoughts of suicide or death”. His eyes widened. You met every single one of those criteria for identifying depression.

Determined to help, he next googled “how to help someone with depression”. The answers ranged from helping the loved one cope, to opening a conversation with the loved one and getting them to talk about their feelings. Asking questions such as “What caused you to start feeling like this? How can I help you right now?” Stating things like, “You’re important to me. Your life is important to me,” or “You’re not alone, I’m here for you.”

One resource he found as he researched fervently was the crisis text line. It was a number (741-741) someone could text and speak to a certified individual about whatever their crisis was. Sam noted that in the back of his mind as something to bring up to you.

Sam nodded as he read. He knew he could do all these things. His biggest goal for you was for you to feel supported and loved. Seeing you in the state you were in concerned him and it had almost sent him in a tailspin of worry. But he would remain strong for you. You needed Sam to lean on if you were going to get up to see the light.

Sam noticed Dean wander in and motioned him over.

“Hey, I gotta talk to you about Y/N. She’s in a really bad depressive episode. She said she wanted to die.” Sam’s heart rate sped up with fear just saying those words. He swallowed and continued. “I’ve been looking up depression online and I think I know how to help her. But I could use your help.”

Dean quickly responded, “So that’s why she’s still in your room. Of course. What do you need?”

Sam answered, “I’m going to have a conversation with her and see if I can’t convince her to get out of bed. Actually, once we finish talking, I’m going to carry her out if she won’t walk. But I want to give her some ideas of simple things we could do as a group that would help her snap back to us.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “I think you’re on the right track. I dated a girl for like, a week, years ago who had depression, and getting outside really helped her she said. Maybe we could go on a walk with her down to the lake. Or hell, even loop around the bunker’s perimeter a few times.”

“That’s a good idea. I was also thinking something easier, like a movie night squished between us - something to show her she’s loved and not alone. Or maybe making dinner with us, so that she’s up and about but doesn’t really have to do much.” Sam ran his hand through his hair as he thought out loud.

Dean grinned. “Oh we’d show her she’s loved. She’s like my sister. She’s not going anywhere.”

His grin faded. “Hey, what if we took her on an easy hunt? Tried to get her back in the swing of things? Maybe it would distract her from the depression.”

Sam shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She said she wanted to die, which makes me think that she might do something stupid on the hunt, like try to get killed. Or even just make a stupid mistake because her head isn’t in the game. No, I don’t think a hunt is the right option for her right now.”

“Of course. Duh. I should have known that,” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation at his cluelessness. ‘I wouldn’t want to put Y/N in danger.”

Sam sighed. “Well, we’ve got some ideas. Let me go talk to her and see what I can get her to do. We’ll be out in a bit one way or another.”

Dean nodded and headed to the kitchen to grab a bite and some coffee before doing his own research on your debilitating ailment.

----

You still hadn’t moved since Sam had come into the room. Your mind felt empty, like everything had been drained from it. You just lay there quietly, waiting for nothing.

The door opened slowly, and Sam silently came in, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t say a word, just got in the bed with you and wrapped you up in his arms to hold you close. Your back against his chest, he tried to shelter you with his body, as if he could protect you from the dark thoughts. Sam wanted you to feel his love first before he tried to say anything. The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, the only sound in the room was the sound of two humans breathing softly. You hadn’t even known, but his touch was what you’d been needing. You soaked in the moment, grateful Sam was giving you space before speaking.

“Y/N?” Sam kissed the nook between your shoulder and your neck. “I want you to know you’re not alone. I’m here for you every step of the way.”

You didn’t respond, but it created the first semblance of emotion you’d felt all day. You could feel your eyes start to well up, not understanding how he knew exactly what to say to you.

“I don’t know what triggered your episode, but I think it would help if you talked it through with someone. It doesn’t even have to be me. You could text the crisis help line, and speak to someone through that. What do you think about that?” You could hear the hesitation in Sam’s voice, as though if he spoke too loudly or firmly he’d break you.

Sighing once again, you summoned the motivation to speak. “If I talk to anyone, I’d like it to be you.”

You could feel the smile on his lips as he again kissed you.

You drew in a shaky breath and decided to describe to him how you were feeling. You told him in a whisper about how you had no motivation, no gumption to do anything. How you felt worthless and unlovable. You told him how you felt he’d be better off if you just died so you weren’t a burden anymore and how you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything today. As you spoke of your symptoms and feelings, you could feel a couple warm tears dripping into the crook of your neck and shoulder.

Once you finished, you felt Sam take a couple steadying breaths, clearly attempting to get himself together. “My love, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. If I could take this all away I would. But I’m here. I can share the weight of your burden. You mean the world to me. You are the farthest thing from a burden on me. You are the shining light in my life, guiding me and loving me. You have given me a reason to fight on. You are what I hold on to in my dark moments.” Here Sam paused, unsure whether he was overwhelming you or even getting through to you.

You turned in his arms so that your chest was facing his, your arms pressed against his chest as you brought your head to tuck under his. “Sam, I can’t tell you how much that helped me,” you said softly.

Sam took that as a cue and gently unwrapped one of his arms from your back and brought your head up to his. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to yours, sending you the message “I love you”. You allowed yourself to respond, capturing his lips with yours. Your kiss was sending the message, “Thank you.”

The two of you kissed delicately for a minute before your body began to respond. You pressed your mouth more firmly against his and adjusted your body to press closer against Sam’s. You brought one hand up and began to run it through Sam’s hair, something you knew he was crazy for. As the kiss began to become more passionate, you grabbed Sam’s hair at the roots and gently pulled, letting him know it was ok to take this a step further. He moaned a little against your mouth at the feeling of his hair being tugged on and involuntarily ground his hips into yours.

You automatically responded by thrusting your hips back against his. Sam broke the kiss long enough to look at you with an unspoken question in his eyes. You nodded, understanding his desire to show you just how much he loved you. Sam rolled you onto your back before resuming the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip, lazily requesting access to your mouth. You granted it, and began to explore his mouth with your own as if it were your first kiss. You could feel Sam slowly grinding against you, not rushing, but clearly feeling the need for some friction. His erection was bumping against your abdomen, and both of your breathing began to get shorter and heavier.

Not breaking the kiss, Sam lifted himself up on one arm and began pulling your nightshirt over your head. You allowed your lips to leave his only long enough to get the shirt out of the way and immediately brought your mouth to Sam’s again. His free hand roamed across your stomach, tracing lines in circles and random shapes as he made his way up to your breasts. Your breathing hitching, you moaned into the kiss as he began to massage your breast, pinching your hardened nipple. Your hips began to grind back against Sam’s, now also needing friction. Your arousal was beginning to pool between your legs, and you weren’t wearing panties.

Sam began to move his kisses down your jawline and to your neck, where he sucked through his teeth, determined to leave his mark on you. You cocked your neck to the side to allow him full access but he was already moving lower, taking your nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it. He pulled off it with a pop, and moved to the next one. Sam then continued to work his way down your body, kissing every inch of your stomach, navel, and down to your inner thighs. You shuddered, his lips so close to your slick folds. Sam smiled against your leg. “You like that, sweetheart?” All you could do was whimper in response as you ground your hips desperately. “Ok,” he murmured. “Ok, love. Let me show you how much I love you.”

Sam ran his tongue between your folds and immediately you felt the tightness in your core begin. He knew every sensitive spot, every place to make you writhe in ecstasy. He sucked on your clit and slowly stuck a finger in your hole. You threw your head back, eager for him to insert another, which he obliged. He bent them and ran them against your walls, curling and pumping. Your juices squelched a bit, letting Sam know just how ready for him you were. He continued to run his tongue in swirls around your clit and through your folds as he finger fucked you. The tightness in your core becoming unbearable, you could feel your release coming. You moaned loudly and stuttered, “S-Sam, I’m gon-gonna…”

“Cum for me baby. Come on, that’s it. Good girl,” he praised as your orgasm exploded, pleasure coursing through your body, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again as he rode you through it.

You lay limp against the sheets, unable to form words. Sam looked up at you and chuckled. He slowly brought himself up along your body to recapture your lips with his, putting all his love and passion into the kiss. “Now do you know how much I love you?” he asked. You smirked. You could feel his erection pressed between your bodies. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, filling you, satisfying you. “Mmm I’m beginning to,” you murmured. “I might need you to show me more.” Sam smirked back at you and said, “As you wish, my love.”

He lined himself up at your entrance, rubbing his cock in your juices. Slowly, he pushed in, letting you adjust as he went. That was one thing you loved about him. Sam never rushed your body. He worshipped it. Once he was fully sheathed, he pulled halfway out, and slowly thrust back in, creating a slow, lazy pace that made you two feel like you had all the time in the world. As he thrust, he grabbed one of your legs, and put it over his shoulder, giving him a new angle, to get him deeper.

You moaned and your pussy clenched around his cock as he hit places that gave you waves of pleasure. He groaned as you clenched around him and sped up his pace, his balls slapping against your skin. Sam took his free hand and started rubbing your clit again, trying to help you get to your climax. His other hand held your hip in place as his pace picked up even more, almost becoming erratic as he got close to his release. You threw your head back again as you felt the familiar tightness building in your core. “Oh don’t stop. Oh Sam. Oh my god. Don’t .. don’t… ahhh!!” You came loudly and harder than last time, your back arching and your pussy milking Sam’s cock for all it was worth. Sam grunted - he couldn’t handle it, the tightness, the pulsing - and released inside you, jerking his hips, spurts of cum coating your walls.

Sam gently pulled out of you, his cum dripping from between your legs. He got up and grabbed a towel from the closet and quietly cleaned you up, careful to not be too rough. You lay there in heaven, a stupid smile on your face, unsure if you’d even be able to walk the next day. Sam crawled back into bed with you and gathered you in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and said, “Do you believe me now? How much I love you?”

You smiled adoringly at him and whispered, “Yes, I do.”

Sam grinned. “Good. Because we have an activity outside the room that we’re going to do. And you need to be clothed for it.” He winked at you cheekily. “Dean and I were talking, and we brainstormed something the three of us could do that would help you feel less alone. So, let’s get UP,” he rolled you on top of him and then over him to get you to the side of the bed. “And dressed, and then we’ll go meet Dean.”

You smiled again at him, and good-naturedly shook your head as you got dressed. The darkness was gone for now. You knew it would be back, but you had ammunition to combat it the next time it came a-knocking. Sam Winchester’s love.

#supernatural #supernatural smut #supernatural fan fic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #spn fic #deascheck

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