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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

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have you seen baby?

pairing: bucky barnes x reader x natasha romanoff

word count: 3,196

summary: You and your two lovers haven’t gotten to spend much time together. Also, sex pollen.

warnings: Bad words. Filthy, filthy smut. Sex pollen.

a/n: Thank you so much to @cake-writes for this commission! I loved writing it and I really hope you enjoy it!

It’s late.

Well. Relatively late. Nearing three in the afternoon, and Natasha hadn’t seen you. Of course, that barred that morning when she woke up to your pretty face still sleeping beside her. Unfortunately, Bucky was on a mission, otherwise she’d get to see his equally as pretty face on your other side. It was disappointing. There was just something so sweet about waking up to the two loves of her life.

But now, it was almost three, and you hadn’t even emerged from your lab for lunch.

Which is why she headed down two floors to the huge lab that you, Tony, and Bruce shared. You kind of played as an inbetween for the both of them, wanting to know it all and then some. It was precious.

But it also meant that you had a bad habit of getting lost in your work and not emerging for hours or sometimes days. You had been getting better about it, if only because Bucky and Natasha were always on your ass about it.

Which is only because they love you. So much. Like. So so much.

“Have you seen Baby?” Natasha asked Sam, who was wandering through the kitchen after his workout.

He had a protein shake in his hand, sweat dripping from his brow. “No, can’t say I have. And you know you can call her by her name when it comes to other people, right?”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look. “Her name is Baby.”

“To you.”

“To Bucky and me,” she retorted. “And besides, she doesn’t even respond to her name when it’s coming from us anymore.” A small smile crept up on her lips. “It’s adorable.” But she was on a mission. She had a little box that came in with the mail that’s a present just for you.

And sometimes Bucky, depending on how he was feeling.

But Natasha didn’t like being touched. She liked to give, but never to receive. Her therapist said it had to do with the various traumas that she’d taken on while growing up in the Red Room. Her body had never been her own during that time. She’d been hurt over and over and over again, to the point where someone touching her body in a sexual way sent her into a panic attack.

Bucky was mostly the same way. He had a hard time with sexual touch, though he’d gotten a lot better about it.

It was just one of those things that Natasha had to deal with. Not that it was hard. She loved taking care of you with Bucky’s help. Their little pillow princess.

You were always the smart girl. Some could argue that you were smarter than both Bruce Banner and Tony Stark simply because you knew both fields and then some. You tended to become… obsessed. You had to know more about everything just for the sake of knowing more. But with that, your mind was always going a million miles an hour. Which is why when it came to the bedroom, it was really nice to just be able to let go and not think for a while. You got to be their dumb little baby girl. It was always about you when it came to sex.

When it came to who needed cuddles and affection, that was when it was their turn. You slept in the middle of them, cradled between them like a precious pearl. You fought off their nightmares for them, their fears. You made them see that they were more than the weapons they had been crafted into. You provided relief for each other in different ways.

Before you had come along, Bucky and Natasha’s love had been volatile. They were missing a piece of the puzzle, even if they hadn’t realized it.

And then their precious little princess had been hired on as a scientist, and their lives were forever changed. They knew immediately that you were the one for them, their missing piece.

Of course, it had taken a while to get you to understand just what they wanted. You might be the smartest in the lab, but when it came to relationships…

Which is what brought her to today. You’d been a little… off lately. Of course, that could be because her and Bucky had been on back to back missions for the past few months. There hadn’t been a lot of time for the three of you all together, which was always frustrating. It was the longest amount of time the three of you hadn’t gotten to all be together since becoming a triad.

And they felt even worse when they both had to leave on missions and leave you all by your lonesome.

Maybe they’d get you a kitten. You wouldn’t have time for a puppy, but a cat? You’d love that. A little lab buddy. Or maybe they’d get you one of those senior cats with three legs that was deaf in one ear. Yeah, you’d love that.

But then it would die a lot quicker than a kitten, and they’d have to pick up the pieces because that would destroy you. But then you’d also be so happy that you got to give the cat a really good few years at the end.

Whatever. She’d talk to Bucky about it when he got home and they could make a decision.

But the little box.

The elevator down to the lab seemed to take forever, the silence mocking her since Tony absolutely hated elevator music and refused to let it play in the Tower. But was even more unsettling was the fact that you weren’t in the lab.

“Hey, have you seen Baby?” Natasha asked Tony, who was fiddling with something on his tablet.

“It’s still weird that you call her that to everyone.”

“It’s her name.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Her name is—”

“Baby,” Natasha said, glaring at him. “Yes, I know. Have you seen her?”

“You disgust me.” The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “I think she went down to the spare testing room. Something about an unknown vapor.”

An unknown vapor? You hadn’t mentioned that. Then again, you’d been kinda quiet lately.

She headed down another few floors, bearing the silence as she went through a mental list of things she needed to get done. It was your birthday soon. She needed to make sure all three of you could get off, and she’d plan something really special. You deserved it.

The testing room you’re in has all floor to ceiling windows for walls, but she can’t see you.

“Strange,” she muttered under her breath. She headed for the doors, and her eyes widened as she saw you through the glass.

You were lying on the ground, sweat dripping from your brow, with your hand in your pants. From the… rapid way your hand was moving, there was no mistaking what was happening.

But why the hell were you touching yourself right there where anyone could walk by and see you?! Not that she didn’t like it. She loved watching you touch yourself and she often ordered you to when she was in a dominating mood. It was so much fun watching you edge yourself.

No, it was the whole public thing that was confusing her.

You looked up as she started to push the doors open, her eyes widening. “N-Natasha, no!” You shouted.

But it was too late. A sickly sweet substance filled her nose, and seconds later, she felt a strange heat creeping up over her. What the hell was happening? And why did her skin feel so warm?

“N-Natasha,” you whimpered, rolling on your side. Your fingers were still rubbing desperately at your clit, trying to find some kind of release. “Nattie, it hurts. It hurts. M-Make it stop.”

And god damn it. Her precious lover begging her to make whatever it was stop hurting? She was gonna figure out a way to make it stop hurting.

She crawled towards her, frowning as she saw a broken test tube on the floor. “What the hell is this?” She couldn’t read the label on it, the ink smeared. Tossing it to the side, she finally made it to you. “W-What hurts, Baby? What hurts?”

Your glassy eyes were wild as your hips bucked up in the air, a vein on your forehead popping out. “F-Fuck me. Fuck me, Nattie, please,” she begged, whining desperately. “Oh, my god, I need it. I need it. Please.”

“H-Here? Baby, wha—”

“Natasha, please, I am literally beg… begging you. Please,” you cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Well. It’s a good thing she brought the box with her. She ripped it open, pulling out the new harness that she ordered with it. “Okay. Okay, angel, but you gotta let me get my strap on, okay?” She asked sweetly as she stripped down. She didn’t care who saw. She had to help her baby girl.

Your response of a weak whimper only made her go faster.

She practically ripped off your clothes, a groan tearing its way out of her throat as she spread your legs. You were so wet it was obscene, your poor little clit swollen.

“Oh, pretty girl,” she cooed as she ran her fingers through your slick folds, slipping two in with ease. “You didn’t ask permission to touch yourself, sweetheart… But I think I can let this time slide…” With her one free hand, she pulled the new dildo out of its packaging, smirking at the whimper that escaped your lips as you saw it.

It was pretty. Really pretty. Eight inches, made of that realistic feeling silicone, and a gorgeous opal color. Her and Bucky ordered it especially with you in mind, since opals are your favorite.

“N-Natasha, please…” You grinded against her fingers, your pussy clenching as you tried to get more.

“Oh, good girl… You look so pretty, Baby.” She used her one hand to attach the dildo to the harness, her eyes flicking back and forth between the heat between your legs and her fumbling fingers as she finally got it secure. She ran it through your folds, getting it nice and slicked up.

That’s when the doors opened again, the familiar sound of size twelve boots coming towards them. “What the hell is that smell and why are you two—” Bucky broke off as he felt the heat. “Oh, shit.”

Natasha grinned as she looked over at Bucky. They were both clearly feeling the heat that the mysterious substance had caused, but not nearly as bad as you were. “I caught our little baby touching herself without permission… out where anyone could walk by and see her.”

The third member of your triad was already working on undoing his belt, tearing it off so quickly that it ripped a few of his belt loops, leaving little holes in his pants. “Has our baby been a little naughty?” He asked as he stripped down, kicking off his boots. He grasped your face with his metal hand, the cool digits a welcome reprieve to the heat that had overwhelmed you. “Princess, have you been a bad girl? Huh?” He lightly slapped your cheek, just enough to get you to answer. “When I ask a question, I expect an answer, sweetheart.”

You nodded, whining as you nuzzled your head against his cool hand, the angle hurting your neck a little since you were still on your back. “Yes. Yes, Bucky. I’ve been so bad, I’m so sorry…” You looked up at him with glittering eyes, your cheeks tear stained. “I need you. Please.”

His blue eyes were soft as he leaned down, stealing a soft kiss from your swollen lips. “What’s your safeword, Baby?” He asked, his free hand wrapping around his swollen cock.

“Bracelet.”

“And if you can’t talk?” Natasha probed, still sliding her strap through your folds.

Your hand wrapped around Bucky’s wrist, squeezing twice.

“Good girl,” he said, kissing you once more. His strong hands flipped you over easily, placing you on your hands and knees.

Almost immediately after, Natasha’s hand came down on your ass, causing you to jerk forward. “You better suck Bucky’s cock, Baby,” she said as a smirk curled up the edges of her lips. “If you want me to fuck you, you better put that pretty mouth to good use.”

“But—”

“Did she stutter, angel?” Bucky asked as he grabbed her chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Tasha gave you an order. Are you going to be a good girl and listen?” His flesh thumb ran over your plump bottom lip. “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for us? Huh?”

Fuck. Yeah, you did. You always wanted to be a good girl for your two lovers.

Matching moans fell from Bucky and Natasha’s mouths as your tongue flicked out to slide up his length, circling around the head. You always gave absolutely filthy head, your eyes watering as you choked around his length.

As you took him all the way, Natasha slid her strap into your wet heat, all the way to the hilt. You let out a choked moan, your eyes wide as she started to thrust in and out of you. Her fingers dug into your hips deliciously, the acrylics she kept at a relatively short length leaving little crescent moon indents. You loved it. The pain felt so fucking good.

“We should’ve made you wear your butt plug, Baby.” Bucky’s jaw clenched as he reached to gather some of your slick on his finger, before circling it around your tight hole. “Could’ve had you waiting for us to fuck you proper while I was on a mission all week…”

Natasha’s hips slammed against yours as she pressed her lips to Bucky’s. “We don’t use the diamond one enough considering how much we paid for it.”

You pulled off of Bucky’s cock with a pop, glaring at the two of them. “Is this the time to be talking about how often we use the butt plug?”

“Did I say you could stop sucking my cock?” Bucky growled as he grabbed your face and started throat-fucking you. “It’s been too long since we put you in your place, angel. You’re getting mouthy.”

“She’s always been mouthy.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Natasha and Bucky’s thrusts sent waves of pleasure through you. The heat that had consumed your body was faded, and all you could think about was making your doms feel good.

All the background noise that had been in your mind over the past few weeks was gone, drowned out by the praises coming from your lovers. All the self-doubt that coursed through your mind was gone when they loved you like this.

You choked around Bucky’s cock as you came suddenly, the release coming over you like a wave.

It only seemed to spur them on more as Natasha fucked you that much harder, Bucky’s fingers scratching soothingly against your scalp as he got closer and closer to the edge. You could always tell when he was close by the way his thrusts got more and more sloppy.

Natasha’s hand reached down and around to rub your clit, the pretty opal dildo sliding in and out of you with ease. She wished she had her phone if just so she could record the moans falling from you and Bucky’s mouths.

Hell, she’d make it her fucking ringtone.

It wasn’t long before Bucky came with a shout, spilling down your throat.

He groaned, his head falling back as he felt you licking him clean. He let you finish before pulling out, getting on his knees and kissing you sweetly.

Your eyes were dazed, a little bit of cum you hadn’t swallowed dribbling out of your mouth. You looked so damn pretty like that. Dumb from pleasure.

“You gonna cum again for us, Baby?” He asked sweetly, holding your face in his hands.

A nod, your lips starting to move to form words but not quite getting there. Adorable.

He watched it coming. Watched as your breath hitched and your eyes rolled back in your head before you let out a cry. You blacked out as your second orgasm ripped through you, violently like an earthquake. A force of nature.

“Seriously? In the lab?!” Tony demanded, glaring at them from the entrance. “What the hell happened?!”

Bucky and Natasha were very blasé faire about their own nudity, but they didn’t like anyone else seeing you. The redhead reached for the little test tube that she’d tossed to the side when she’d first gotten there as he covered you up with his leather jacket, cradling your exhausted body to his chest. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead as he rocked you back and forth.

“I think it was whatever was in this,” Natasha said as she looked at it curiously, trying to make out what the writing on the label was. “... Sexus… Pollinis?”

Tony grumbled as he walked over and grabbed the tube, looking it over. “It’s literally Latin for sex pollen. Which probably means exactly what we think.”

“Is that what the smell in the air was?” Bucky asked.

Natasha nodded. “I think most of it spilled on her, which is why she was so affected but we weren’t.”

“Okay. I’ll… clean all this stuff up,” Tony said. “Get her out of here and in a bed. Or a bath.” He shook his head as he started to call for the robots that mopped the floor. “Animals.”

You came to in your shared room, curled up between them in your giant tub. “Wha’ happened?”

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his fingers massaging your sore shoulders. “How do you feel?”

For some reason, you started crying. It just came over you.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Natasha said, cupping your face and wiping your tears. “Baby, what’s going on? Huh? Talk to us…”

“I-I’ve just been f-feeling so alone a-and this is the first time w-we’ve all been together in two m-months,” you whimpered in a shattered glass voice, barely able to string together a full sentence through your hiccups. “A-And you’ve been gone s-so often that all I can think is m-maybe I’m j-just here because you’re both d-dominants and needed a s-s-submissive!”

Bucky and Natasha’s faces both fell and they squeezed you that much closer to them.

“Oh, Baby, no,” Natasha said. Her heart hurt as she realized that that’s why you’ve been so off lately. “We love you so much. So, so much.”

“I think it’s time we stopped going on so many missions anyway, Baby,” Bucky added, his fingers tickling up and down your back. “I’m tired of not being home with my girls.”

“Really?” You asked softly, looking at him like he’d just told you he’d give you the moon.

“Yeah,” Natasha said, bringing your hand to her lips. She pressed a kiss to your left ring finger as her eyes met Bucky’s, a knowing look on his face. Maybe soon there’d be a ring on that finger. “Really, Baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader x natasha romanoff #bucky x reader x natasha

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infernal-fire · 3 years

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Long Forgotten

I am choosing to not use warnings. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with themes of infidelity, angst, swearing and sexual innuendos.

Summary: Your Steve isn’t yours anymore and you’re beginning to understand why.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairings: Steve x reader and a surprise appearance ;)

Disclaimer: this is set right after Endgame

A/N: this story was inspired by @nsfwsebbie’s fic please don’t take him (even though you can). it was so damn amazing. i thought of how the situation would go under different circumstances, and added a more strong willed reader into the mix :)

i tried to proofread but im sort of posting in a rush so all mistakes are my own!

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Your head was nestled in the crook of Steve’s neck and his arms were cradling your tired form. Dried tears left your face feeling dry and your up do from the funeral was now tousled. Steve let out a heavy sigh and held you a little tighter.

You could fall asleep if it weren’t for the looming stress of returning the stones so you decided to bide your time by focusing on the super soldier’s unnaturally slow heartbeat.

“We should go, sweetheart. They’re waiting for me.” his voice broke the placid silence that had enveloped the room.

You silently got off the bed and Steve’s hand nudged yours, stopping you from reaching the door.

He slowly pulled you towards him and you met him halfway, face-to-face.

“I know things aren’t great right now. But we’ll get through this,” he spoke lowly as his large hands cupped your face. They felt rough against your supple skin, but his touch was as tender as ever.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. "I’ll come with you,” you offered.

“No,” he affirmed. His tone was firm yet a touch of softness was reserved in there somewhere, just for you.

“I love you Y/N. I’ll love you no matter what,” he said as he pulled your head into his chest and engulfed your body into his.

You reached the new, mini version of the previously destroyed time travel contraption Tony made. Sam, Bucky and Professor Hulk were engaging in light conversation that clearly, none of them were interested in. You look up at Steve, who was as tense as ever, clutching your hand like a vice. He let go and glanced back at you before joining Sam.

You knew deep down that Steve would never be the same anymore. Hell, after the Battle of Wakanda, Steve almost ended the relationship because the Avengers lost.

But the Avengers won this time, and things should feel different. So why did it feel like he was leaving forever?

You recalled the very short conversation you had with him about Tony’s snap.

“I should have snapped,” he sobbed.

“You’ve always been selfless your whole life. This was Tony’s time to be selfless, and you don’t get to take that away from him.” You hugged him and cried with him.

There was nothing else to be said.

How much you wished no one had to die.

He stood on the platform and nodded at Bruce before locking eyes with you.

Apologetic. He looked apologetic.

At the time, you thought he just looked sad. You assumed it was residual sadness from the funeral but looking back, you realized he looked apologetic for what he was about to do.

Rebuilding your relationship wasn’t easy. Tony and Nat’s death and the trauma of the battle were overshadowing both of your feelings. You salvaged what you could and life returned to a “normal” that never existed.

Being an Avenger means your living costs are covered by Tony, basically compensating for the missions. Only there weren’t any missions anymore. You were grateful but it meant that you had a lot of time on your hands.

You took up a job as a waitress and Steve continued running sessions at the VA with Sam. It was humbling to be serving people at a diner after fighting alongside some of Earth’s mightiest heroes. But you needed it. And slowly but steadily, happiness crept its way into the tower.

You didn’t see Steve around anymore though. You weren’t sure if you were even together anymore, aside from the forehead kisses and lingering glances.

You and Bucky set the table while you heard Sam and Steve banter over who gets to choose the movie today. Bucky chuckled and called them to eat.

There was relentless teasing, jokes being tossed around and big smiles everywhere.

“The nurse had poked him 2 times at this point and there was no blood coming out of him.” Sam laughed.

“So she asks me if we can do the other arm.” Bucky snorted through breaths of amusement.

“This guy pulls up his sleeve and the girl faints.” Sam howled as everyone doubled over in laughter.

You wiped a tear from your eye and you look over at Steve who was laughing as well. It had been a long time since you’ve seen him so happy.

Sure, he’d been distant. He hadn’t touched you since he came back. It had been 2 months though, and you wondered if you should try again tonight. You put a hand over Steve’s and he snapped his head to you. He gave you a small smile before slipping his hand out from under yours and picking up a napkin.

He needed the napkin, you told yourself.

You went up to change into something that he might find more appealing. You were torn between the red lace set or the black corset. You settled for the classic red lace and tied on a robe before heading downstairs to tease him a little.

“You’re going to tell her before you go right?” You heard Sam’s voice and broke your stride to the kitchen.

“She won’t be happy.” You swore it was Steve’s voice but it was a little too quiet to be sure. You silently padded toward the kitchen, standing right outside the entrance to hear better.

“Of course she won’t be happy. You went back to be with a girl from 70 years ago and spent 4 months with her. You sort of cheated on her Steve.” Bucky’s voice quipped at Steve.

You couldn’t be hearing right. Steve went back and got together with Peggy?

“It’s not sort of cheating, he almost got married to her,” Sam remarked in rebuttal.

He almost got married to her.

There was so much information to process. Your shoulder sagged with the weight of the news and you cupped your mouth before anyone could hear your sob.

“But I came back.” Steve countered.

“Do you love her?” Bucky lowered his voice and inquired.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Your chest heaved and eyes burned. You wanted to gasp for air but you knew if you breathed, you would let out the anguish building in your stomach.

Your back hit the wall and you slid down, not caring if he hears anymore.

In moments, Steve, Bucky and Sam appear beside you with startled faces.

You didn’t look at them as you got up and paced to your room. You thought you heard Steve’s voice calling after you but your thoughts pounded and clawed at the insides of your head. You couldn’t be sure and you weren’t going to turn back now.

He didn’t run after you. You had predicted that he didn’t want to deal with your hysterical crying which surely could be heard past your room walls. When you considered it, this new Steve was actually quite predictable; you knew he wouldn’t bother bringing it up to you until you brought it up yourself. Because he was a coward like that, you decided. All of his actions spoke for themself and the one true motive behind his cheating is cowardice. You don’t know if you would have been okay with him going back to Peggy, but if he talked about it, things not have ended the way they did.

After 2 days of not leaving your room, you knew that there was a better way to handle this. It wasn’t you who should be embarrassed; instead of sulking, you marched to his room with newfound determination.

You threw open his door that he didn’t even bother locking. Steve was mid-speech with someone on the phone, seemingly a conversation that wasn’t going his way. He seemed tense, his muscles protruding from the tight white t-shirt pulled over him.

Your jaw ticked as you shifted your weight onto one foot and rested on the doorframe, waiting for him to end the call.

“I’m sorry to cut this short. We have a lot to talk about but it’ll have to happen in-person.” he concluded the phone call and sat on the bed with his head in his arms.

“Seems like you planned it all.” you commented, trying to sound like you didn’t care. In reality, the wound was still very fresh. Even though a part of you had known that the relationship was over for some time now, you were only coming to terms with it now.

“I wanted to tell you before I left, but you were just so upset and I couldn’t …” he trailed off.

“All of a sudden you care about me? And now this is somehow my fault that you were too chicken to tell me,” you retorted, unimpressed with his answer.

“I have always cared about you and always will.” He got up and walked towards you. He cupped your face but you pushed his hand off, glaring up at him.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I admit I could’ve handled everything lot better but Y/N. When you told me Tony’s snap was his moment of selflessness, I realized that all I’ve ever done is be selfless. And I don’t regret any of it. But it was time I chose to do something for myself. Then I remembered Peggy and the life I left behind and I just knew this world would be okay without me so I chose to be selfish. I chose to be selfish, Y/n, and I don’t regret that either.”

You were crying now, and Steve reached to wipe it off, but you smacked his hand.

“You used to choose me. You woke up everyday and chose us. The day you decided you didn’t want this anymore, you decided you would just go ‘fuck all’ and cheat on me? You couldn’t have ended it like a normal person?” you questioned through your tears. Your vision was foggy but you kept wiping your eyes, trying not let him see your tears.

He sighed and let a few moments stretch on before he answered.

“We both know that this relationship was over a long time ago Y/N.”

You noted his use of your name and not the usual pet name ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’. It saddened you even more to think that he doesn’t associate those words with you anymore.

“You’re a fucking bastard Rogers. You are the biggest coward I have ever met in my life. You may be the Captain America, but you are the biggest wimp in real life.” You could tell he was fuming because of your comment but you continued your spiel.

“I tried everything to make this work. The moment that the thought of cheating crossed your mind, you should have broken my heart. Because all you did now was rip it out and stomp on it before spitting on the what’s left-”

“I can’t believe you’re standing here accusing me of not trying to make this work. You know what Y/N? I fucking left Peggy because I thought about you and thought I could make this work. And then I came back and remembered all the reasons why this wouldn’t work and now I regret it. I wish I could go back to Peggy.”

“Go fuck yourself Rogers,” you muttered and turned to leave. “Actually, go fuck Peggy’s skeleton Steve. I curse you with every cell in my body. I hope you never get to see her again. I know you’re trying to go back,” you added before wiping you final tear, once and for all. There was no way you were going to shed another tear on this asshole.

Except, it wasn’t that simple. You did cry over it more, but if there’s anything you did right, it was making sure he never saw your tears.

You also found that post-break up glow up’s were a real thing. The lack of missions means you didn’t need to see Steve unless you chose to be in the same space as him. So you chose to make new friends and bring new light into your life. There was no dread clouding your judgment because for once, there was no impending threat on the future of Earth.

You cut your hair, you changed up your wardrobe and got as fit as you’ve ever been. Your friends made frequent stops at the Tower which eventually turned into dragging you into their bar hopping.

On the other hand, Steve was doing everything he could to go back to Peggy, just like you had predicted. You manifested his downfall. Hank Pym refused to let his work fall into the hands of the Avengers and Steve was having a very hard time convincing him otherwise. The final nail in the coffin was when Hank decided that Pym Particles should not be produced anymore. As long as the world didn’t understand the entirety of the quantum realm, no one should have access to something that could mess with it. No arguments could ensue because there was nothing anyone could say to change Hank’s mind.

As much as Bucky and Sam wanted him to go back, they knew he deserved it for everything you were put through. When Steve found that his friends weren’t on the same page as him, he spiraled deeper into regret and depression. There wasn’t much to be done in terms of world-saving, which is what he was made for. The person he thought was the love of his life is gone now. When the dust settled, he realized that you were the only thing that kept him going for so long. But now he lost you too, and there was nothing he could do get you back.

While you were out living your new life, Steve was trying to find a life for himself. He would see you around the compound and wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of your love. What he would do to feel that again, he couldn’t explain to anyone.

Your escapades were at an all-time high. You knew that single life is the life. Just when you finally concluded that all men were trash, Ransom came crashing into your life. Although he only reinforced this belief, this man wasn’t just any trash. He was your trash.

He was the mutual of your friends and you seemed to never be able to escape him. Moreover, your friends decided that you wouldn’t escape him.

The teasing and playful banter between you two turned into something more serious about a year after your break-up. Ransom was everything Steve wasn’t.

Steve was a gentleman. Chivalrous. Gentle.

Then you reminded yourself that he had proven to you that he wasn’t any of things anymore. Ransom was the exact opposite, but he wore it on his sleeve. After all the lies and cowardice, Ransom’s blunt and bold attitude was exactly what you needed.

There were moments you found yourself comparing the nature of the two relationships. With Steve, a lot of it was gentle and soft with some roughness around the edges. Life alongside Ransom was nothing short of callous, but that’s why soft, vulnerable moments felt even more extraordinary and special.

If you made a judgement based off first impressions, someone like Ransom seems to be more likely to cheat than someone like Steve Rogers. Upon deeper analyzation though, Ransom doesn’t have any skeletons in his closet. He doesn’t claim things easily, but when he does, he would go to any length to make sure what’s his, will stay his. Soon after you realized this, you began abandoning thoughts of comparing the two relationships.

There was a party at the Tower for Sam’s birthday. It was the first time in a long time that you were going to be around Steve for longer than 10 minutes. Doubt began seeping through your determination; how well would you fare under the pressure of pretending to be okay around him?

“Do we have to match, sugar?” Ransom whined from your bathroom.

“Why would you even go to an event as a couple if you aren’t matching?” you hollered back.

You heard Ransom grumble as the bathroom door swung open. The emerald green dress shirt with small gold polka dots complemented his eyes so perfectly. Ransom was about to complain again before seeing the look of awe on your face. He decided right then that he could suck it up for the night.

You were wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with sheer black net covering your shoulders, your sleeves reaching your elbows. The material was different, but the print was the exact same as Ransom’s. He couldn’t help but wonder why you put so much effort into such little things. He made a mental note to do something like this for you another time before wrapping his arms around your frame, burying his face into your face.

“Ran! My hair!” you squealed as you tried to push him off.

“Usually it’s me that takes this long to get ready. You trying to impress the Captain?” Ransom winked and sat on your bed.

“Oh fuck off.” you rolled your eyes and added the big bow to your half up hair-do.

“You look so innocent baby. How angelic would you look with my cum dripping out of your mouth?” he smirked as you dropped your mouth, looking at him through the mirror.

“My god Ran, this is not the time.” You shook your head and pulled him with you, finally making your way to the party downstairs.

You were breaking out into cold sweat for some reason. Part of you really wanted to show Steve how happy you were now, but you felt that it meant you weren’t truly over him. Were you making a mistake?

Right before you opened the door the common room where the party was ongoing, Ransom stopped you and looked right into your eyes.

“You know, as much as I’d like to make your ex jealous, if you don’t want this, I could think of a lot of other ways to spend the night,” he winked and you blushed. This is exactly why you liked him so much. There was no pressure to be anything but yourself around him. Even if you told him you wanted to go back to your room, there would be no judgement on his behalf. He wouldn’t ever bring it up as a joke either, because he just knew what he could and couldn’t joke about.

“Let’s do this, bubbles” you giggled. He groaned at the nickname and pulled you into his side with one arm, opening the door with the other.

One of Ransom’s many talents was making an entrance and this event was no exception. As you walked through the entrance, Ransom kept his head high and pulled you along with him. His confidence began rubbing off you and within a few steps, you stopped slouching. Straightening you back and tossing your hair behind your back, you bathed in the glory of the looks you and Ransom were getting. He took you straight to the bar, smiled at you and ordered drinks.

“You know, your ex was fuming in the corner,” he remarked as he sipped on his drink.

“No!” you laughed incredulously, unable to imagine Steve begin angry over Ransom’s presence.

“It’s true, look for yourself,” he calmly retorted. His eyes flicked to a corner of the room and you followed his gaze there. Steve looked away upon seeing you look at him but it was clear that he was flustered. Bucky stood beside him, entertaining a gaggle of girls, but Steve’s attention was clearly elsewhere.

“He’s actually pretty hot in person, it’s making me jealous” Ransom nonchalantly mentioned.

You threw your head back and laughed. Your doubts of whether this was a good idea were dissipating very quickly.

Ransom chuckled and then looked at you intently. You looked back at him, the high of the laugh wearing off because of his intense stare.

“I think I’m in love with you.” you blurted.

“You know, I’m glad you said it because I did not want to say it first.” he snickered and you playfully punched him.

“Ow! I’m just kidding, don’t go all Avengers-mode on me!” he fussed.

You pulled him into a tight hug. He peeled your head away from his chest to cup your face and give you a light kiss before whispering ‘I love you too.’ You started to tear up, thinking of all the pain you had to go through to get this moment of tranquility with your favourite person in the whole, wide world.

He cooed and kissed your forehead.

“I always got you.” he assured and pulled your head back into his chest. You smiled and broke away from the hug, sitting back on the bar stool.

“I think you transferred your lipstick because you have a dark red lip mark on your forehead.”

You groaned and frantically wiped your forehead.

“Hey,” he caught your wrist. “Why don’t we go back up and fix that?” His eyes glinted in the dim lights and you giggled like a schoolgirl as he pushed through the crowd.

In that moment, and every moment after it, Steve was long forgotten.

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#steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #endgame #endgame!steve #steve rogers #captain america #fic #fic rec #mcu #marvel

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vidavalor · 3 years

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Just going to put this out there...

There are about a thousand justifiable reasons why Sam is hesitant to take up the shield and thought the best thing to do would be to give it to the Smithsonian and let it go with Steve. Chief among them is absolutely the fact that as a Black man, he hasn’t always felt like America has had his back the way that he has had its. He’s not wild about being a symbol when he’s really still in a place where it is hard everyday to get through what he’s been through-- just living in his skin, during the war, losing Riley, losing Steve, everything-- as a man. But there’s also another reason that I think could be part of it and it would be pretty ironic, considering that Bucky’s own conflicts are causing him to see Sam with the shield as the only good end result. (Bucky’s conflicts are not all that dissimilar to Sam. A closeted POW soldier left behind by his government fighting every day for a sense of mental and physical autonomy over his own mind and body knows more than anyone might realize about Sam’s own conflicts, which is another reason why they’re well-suited.) So, what is that ironic other reason why Sam could have turned down the shield? Well, uh... Bucky.

Consider that being Captain America is a lot different than being The Falcon. The show even nods to this a bit with Walker and Lemar in TFATWS (and The Hulk and Ant-Man in Endgame). The big, marquee superhero names are the ones with all the fanfare and pomp and circumstance. No one has ever got Scott Lang’s hometown high school football team to learn and perform a remix of the Captain America song for his interview with Good Morning America. Sam is only really quasi-famous right now on a mainstream level. The person that we see recognize him is a Black kid (Black Kid TM), in a scene that speaks to the importance of representation and also to some of its complexities. (The ”My daddy says it’s ‘Black Falcon’” moment which is something that Sam, who is Black and also uh literally The Falcon, actually thinks is a bit regressive and finds frustrating.) The point, though, is that Sam is recognizable instantly to many people who look like him, including kids, but the show often points out how silo-ed even superhero fandom is inside the MCU because the two white people who eventually can recognize Sam as The Falcon have to take a beat and really think about it. In the case of the bank manager, Sam has to all but tell him who he is. The show illustrates how this is a thing that is meant to reflect how society in the MCU behaves (and that is really the same as our own, unfortunately). It shows this through the scene with Walker and Lemar, when the (white, because it’s relevant to this conversation) girls approach Walker for autographs and do not even see Lemar. They have no idea who Battlestar is and he and Walker talk about that afterwards. While this is obviously meant to point out a sense of racial injustice, Endgame also points out that it can also just be because some superheroes have more flash and symbolism. While it’s an example of racial inequality on TFATWS, it’s also a funny “no one thinks Ant-Man is cool” thing in Endgame that shows the idea of there being kind of B-tiered superheroes. What does this have to do with Sam not taking up the shield and Bucky?

Sam Wilson, after Endgame, has just come back from being missing for the last five years to find his sister exhausted from a life that has been kicking her ass for ages now and his nephews grown five years without him into the “little men” that they are becoming. Before those five years, he had been on the run with Steve for two of them. He’s not old by any stretch of the imagination but he is *older* now and he’s enough time beyond some of the worst traumas of his life to think about maybe finding one for himself. Learning that Steve went back in time to find some peace with a family, seeing that Tony Stark got that before he died... it puts it on the mind for Sam, even if it was likely already there anyway. He has a fresh start. But there is a difference between being The Falcon and being Captain America and it’s not only the challenges of being the first (known to the public) Black Captain America. Can he do this and have his own life at the same time? Because even if he gets a third of the attention that was given to John Walker, it is way more attention than he’s ever had before. He’s not just going to be a bit famous-- he’s going to become a literal American icon overnight.

What if Sam has decided that he can’t do this because he wants some quiet nights and isn’t sure he can get them if he takes this on? What if he wants to be just a guy sometimes, just a man who helps run a fishing business in Delacroix, Louisiana and wants to watch the sunset with the person he loves, who is not at all what might be in the government’s dream idea of the life of The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan?

What if Sam is thinking about how he might like to see if he can fall in love again sometime in his post-Riley life, with someone who could understand and love him back this time? The hope of that alone might be another reason to turn down the shield, if he thinks he’d rather find a way to be a good husband to a man he loves than be a symbol to a country he loves but that struggles to love him back at times.

Not to mention that he’s not sure America is ready not only for a Black and gay Captain America but one that is in love with a formerly brainwashed, hundred and six year old, PTSD-laden cyborg and he’s not about to risk his and Bucky’s chance at this for a mantle he’s not sure he even feels really should be his to carry. Sam knows about trauma recovery and knows they’re both-- but especially Bucky-- going to need to go slow at this. It’s really hard to try to be there to support the guy you love’s work on dealing with decades of loss of control over his own mind and body-- and that’s without the whole world watching. Sam wants some privacy and autonomy for both of them, not to mention a little of the time that’s been stolen from them for the room to see if they can make this work. That is one of the reasons why he turned down the shield, IMO.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon #the winter soldier

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herstarburststories · 3 years

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He didn’t make it to 42

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: it’s Dean’s birthday, you go to visit him with some news and things that need to be said.

A/N: Happy bday, De.

Warnings: so much angst, mentions of sex, hopeful/happy ending (?)

Dean’s dead. It’s Dean’s birthday and he’s dead. You can’t argue much.

Sam denied the demon blood inside him, and that didn’t stop its evil nature from growing and gasping for his fresh air to the point he was almost shocked alive. Dean denied his dad’s destructive methods’ results for the longest time, and that didn’t stop the cicatrixes in every emotion he had ever shown. You denied the absence of Dean and that didn’t stop the bricks cracking in your soul. There’s only so far you can go with your eyes closed.

So here you are. Standing in front of an empty grave. You are bigger than the dull tombstone, yet you can’t help but not to feel tall, at all. How can you even start to talk? Talking to Dean used to be easy even when it got hard and now you’re feeling like a lost kid in a supermarket. Your snide thinking spells out his name with venom, saying it isn’t easy for you to open your barmy mouth and spill out contrarian shit because this isn’t Dean, just another meaningless symbolism that Sam promises that will help. The real Dean died almost a year ago, he was burned in a hunter’s funeral, the flames dancing over his body as the smell of burnt meat invaded your nostrils. Whenever you try to remember his fragrance, that manly aroma which you loved to scent each morning, all your brain can come up with is the odor of his skin and guts burning. The smell lingers like bad perfume, it doesn’t matter how many times you wash yourself with his soap-- that only broke your heart worse.

But today is Dean’s birthday. He deserves a visit, even if it’s not him. Then you go and attempt to deal with the desolation, push it away just a little, and pick up something from the enormous pile of things you wish to tell Dean. You glance at the cold tombstone: Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2020. Beloved son, big brother, and husband. Hunter. A hero. Simple definitions that can never make it up for who he was and what he meant. You purse your lips and cough a little, a gentle wind touches your cheek so tenderly. If you were still a believer, you’d think this is some sort of sign, Dean’s presence or some other pious hoax. All you do now is to remain in quietude, a deep breath. Ultimately, your voice comes:

‘’You didn’t make it to forty two, huh?’’ You scoff humorless, reminiscing to the multiple days that Dean said he wouldn’t go past 35. He did live each year like it was the last--- you aren’t sure if it's such a good thing. If you carry on like your days are outnumbered, you are silently entertaining yourself until death's knock on your door. ‘’I always hated when you were right. Let’s be honest, you had the words of a pessimist and the wants of an optimist. Still, if you were to be right about something, it would be about a bad situation. A nest with too many vampires, how crappy the motel’s bedroom would be, or how that third glass of wine would make me tipsy. So yeah, I always hated when you were right. And look at you now! You aren’t right, you aren’t wrong. You are dead! And I’m the crazy girl screaming at an empty tombstone.’’

You let out a laugh empty of joy. That’s how a hunter’s life is: you die and people stop talking about you because it’s too sad or too long gone to hold any pity, meanwhile the ones who recall about you go loud with all the spirits in their heads. You put your hand in the pockets of the heavy leather jacket that once belonged to a green eyed man who would be turning 42 today, some strange force causing you to speak again.

‘’Wow.’’ You shake your head to the blue way you paint the scene until you notice that you never greeted him. ‘’Hey.’’ The simple word adds a comical insult to injury. ‘’Guess the dead don’t care about manners, huh?’’ You arch your eyebrows with a grin that demonstrates anything but happiness. ‘’Miracle died. Sam digged a hole next to the bunker and buried him there. He isn’t the same since you died, you know? Not the deceased dog-- Well, he wasn’t the same either. Always whining and scratching your door like a fucking cat, and sniffing your old boots. He made me company in your bed and I whined as much as he did when you didn’t come back home that day. He stood by the door most days, waiting for you to appear. I can’t judge him, I did the same.’’ You shrug, not caring about how risible that confession may look. It's true. You became as irrational as a loyal dog at some point in this sorrow. ‘’And Sam, your baby brother… I think he died with you right there, Dean. He didn’t try to bring you back as he promised, but I shouted and screamed so much. I said I would burn the bunker and throw Baby over a cliff if he didn’t-- if he didn’t let me try. I lived up to the mad woman title.’’

You are crestfallen, pacing on top of where the eldest Winchester - Sam’s brand new nomination - supposedly was buried. You know your boots barely touch an infected land, there's no deceased man under your steps. The dead thing is in you.

‘’I spent days dragging your body everywhere and nowhere, anywhere I could catch a crumb of relief in hope to bring you back. But I couldn’t. Jack could, but that ungrateful idiot doesn’t wanna follow his grandpa steps and get too attached to mere humans, the creation or whatever. As if we are just some skin and bone to him, as if you are just another human.’’

You sit down on the tombstone, some tender solace in being close to a thing that's supposed to represent him, like sleeping hugged to a pillow or waking up to a photograph of his. Your nails sink against the gelid concrete at the thought of screaming into the sky for the new God that seemed as deaf as the last one. His calm answer to your burning pain. How he dared to tell you he knew what he was doing— as if he was the original lord and not a three years old. You can't make him do it, so you hold on the fury of some overthrown nation.

‘’Anyway, I couldn’t bring you back. Your body, well, you know how human anatomy works. Your body started to smell like death. We tried to stop with human and magic ways, and it wouldn’t work because you were dead. You should’ve seen the doctor’s face when we got you in that fancy hospital tha night. I think we traumatized the doctor with so much violence and trauma. She didn’t even give us a false hope or anything, you know? She just asked about organ donation of what was left. She just wanted to take every little thing out of you, as if you were just another accident on a Tuesday night.’’ Your shake your head as the memories and your points start to mix, it's hard to discern things and keep a straight line when you have an open wound in your insides. ‘’Well, they couldn’t bring you back to life, and neither could Rowena or whatever I looked for. Don’t be mad because I tried, Winchester. You know I’m too stubborn for my own good. I had to try.’’ you refuse to apologize, yet adds the playful words in his eulogy. ‘’But then your body started to stink and God, how could I continue to be so violent to your corpse? That was when I decided to listen to you for the first time and to Sam, so I let you go. I hate you for asking that.’’ What an ambiguous, contradictory truth to bare. You are glimpses of a person for months because of Dean Winchester, still have the energy to argue his selfless logic, just to love him even more. He's got your devotion, but man you can hate him sometimes. ‘’I hate you for going on that stupid hunt. I hate you for being dead, you giant idiot that I love so much.’’ You can't bring your mouth to say loved. "I was always telling you to let the past go and now I’m in love with a dead thing. What a comic way to end our history. I told you that Miracle died, right? I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but I hope he’s in there with you. I wonder what your heaven is like. I bet it has Whiskey.''

Your dry chuckle makes your notice the tears in your eyes, glistening your orbs as they go like a waterfall to be absorbed by the thirsty land after leaving your cheeks.

"Sam and I-- We tried to make some sense out of this cruelty, but we can’t. You are dead and I can’t seem to put it past me. I still sleep in your bed, and I can still taste your body burning on the roof of my mouth in the quiet nights. I cried this morning because someone asked for a burger, can you believe that? It was so stupid since I used to shake my head and argue with you about cholesterol. Suddenly I was crying at lunch in a restaurant because some stupid kid asked for a burger with extra bacon. They sang Happy birthday to this dumbass child, and I interrupted with my awful crying, and wished that you were celebrating your birthday and not that kid. I guess you could say I wish death upon an innocent child with a problematic eating routine.’’ That was a whole new level of low, as if you are the one wrapped with the sentiment of laying six feet under.

‘’Everyone tells you about how grief is singular and particular with similar emotions that bring people who went through this together. They even have that crap stages thing and all that. You know what they don’t tell you?’’ Your mouth shuts for a moment, like you are waiting some response. You nod as if whatever you were expecting is handed to you. ‘’Grief can be fucking ridiculous. Who cries because of a burger full of oil and cardiac diseases? Who cries because they found a grocery store recipe under her dead boyfriend’s bed? Who falls on the ground screaming in the middle of the mall because they saw a flannel? Who? Those things are so stupid.’’ You smile like there's no tomorrow and the laugh leaving your lips is a treacherous tone. Perhaps you just aren't build up to express joy anymore. ‘’You see it in the movies and in the books and you think, you know, you think to yourself that grieving is being sad on special dates and randomly remembering the loved ones because of some screaming memory, like a flannel or their perfume. Thing is, it’s not just that. All your body seems so small, so tight for all the ache and agony inside it. Your senses go wild, you are not just one person in one place. You’re just the pain everywhere, like being pulled apart and you beg to jump in the fucking grave with them. At least you would be together, at least you would feel like one person and not suffering edges of a broken earthy thing. And--And you start remembering things you didn’t even know you had mesmerized. I look at the ceiling and remember you saying you’d paint it someday. I look at the kitchen and remember me screaming at you for giving Miracle the rest of the food. I smell Sam’s clothes and started crying because hey, they don’t smell like alcohol. You don’t iron them while drinking anymore, so of course they don’t smell like cheap beer.’’ You are chuckling through the tears and it only makes it more monstrous. ‘’Everything is you now that you are gone. Every man has something similar to you, every garden is green as your eyes, and each step sounds like you are coming home. They didn’t prepare me, not for this.’’ You said breathless. A soft single follows. The knife cuts both ways; the empty breeze and the words hurt. Where's the middle term? Where's the limbo? Where's the only safe place for you to rest your weary head?

Out of nowhere, you blurt out, ‘’I can’t masturbate,’’ I know it’s something stupid and even selfish to say, but I think you’d like to know. I can’t masturbate. That’s a part of the whole losing someone process that people are too ashamed to discuss, or maybe they don’t have the urge to be touched anymore because after someone you love dies, after someone-- the hands who touched are dead and cold, you become a haunted object. That’s how I feel most days, like I’m a haunted house because you touched me and now you’re dead and some days I believe I am too.’’ You look around the places. It's beautiful. It's lonely. It has trees and flowers and green. Not as green as Dean's eyes, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even have eyes at this point. ‘’Well, I can’t masturbate. I can’t touch myself. And I can’t ask someone else either. I tried and ended up punching the guy, Dean. I swear. I panicked when he was between my legs and just punched his nose. You’d have liked it, you were always the jealous kind. I won’t admit that, but I thought it was kinda hot. Especially when you got possessive in sex.’’ A dirty grin appeared on your lips, the echoes of luxury lasting in your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’I don’t think I can be cared for anymore, honestly. Sam tried to hug me when Miracle died and I… It was like I wasn't there. I got frozen in time, and I live in my sleep. In my nightmares you are alive. I dream about the day you died every week and I used to wake up screaming, but now those nightmares are the only proof you were alive now that you’re as dead as the police report says this time. It was the most painful, calamitous moment for you and I swear it was a nightmare for me, but then I realized that at least I had you there, egoistical or not, I made my nightmare into a dream.’’ You aren't sure which opinion Dean would have on that. Would he understand? Would he shake his head? You wish you can ask him just this one more thing, just beg him to write it down for you on how to be without him here.

You raise on your feet, glaring at the name craved in the concrete. The tears go by still, although they're as usual as the blood in glir veins at this point. ‘’Death is so silly. What it takes, anyway?" Each word conquers more inches of pure wrath. ''People die because they stumbled on their own feet and hit their head somewhere, or they drove their car too close and too fast to the cliff, or because they were giving birth, or because they dated the wrong person, or because they were hunting a fucking vampire and got impaled. What are the chances? How stupid, and idiotic is death? Always creeping and waiting to bite and chew a piece of you-- Taking every scrap of you from me like that’s its right.’’ You are screaming, starting to kick and punch the tombstone with any piece of straight you have. Your limbs hurt and the blood is visible, but you keep going. ‘’YOUR STUPID DOG DIED, DEAN! AND YOU DIED! AND I DIED! SAMMY DIED! YEAH, IS SAID SAMMY! GO AHEAD, TELL ME ONLY YOU CAN CALL HIM THAT.’’ Another punch, your knuckles are ripped. Another kick, your boot as a hole. ‘’DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.’’ Kick. ‘’SAMMY, SAMMY, SAMMY!’’ A punch to each name. Anything to get a reaction, to get comfort. Anything. ‘’YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.’’ Gasping for something you don't need anymore, sweet oxygen, your eyes are on the tombstone again. And the definitions. And the trees. Your body is sore and aching. It is the kind and coercion no person wants which you needed; the freedom of feeling outside the exact pain that was inside. ‘’You can’t because you are dead. I’ve been playing some sick games in my mind, you know? Sam stopped hunting and had his closure. He was always better at letting go than you and I, but he’s still hurting. I never saw him hurting so much. I think he knows you won’t come back this time, how could you make us promise something like that? Well, my twisted game is a bunch of misleading what ifs. What if you hadn’t gone after John? What if you hadn’t gone on that last hunt? What if you had stayed with Lisa? At first I didn’t like her much. Jealous, I admit that. But she grew on me. She gave you something I couldn’t back then and I’ll always be thankful for that. And even though it would rip me apart, I’d rather you to die at sixth after living your suburban dream with her. Have another kid besides Ben, maybe a girl this time, and just have that apple pie life. You and Sam would live close and your kids would always play. They’d be as close as brothers. Maybe I’d get a guy and bring my own kids and we could’ve a barbecue and everyone would be happy. But we don’t get soft epilogues here. It ends how it starts, right? Bloody and desperate. I thought maybe, maybe Lisa could understand what’s going through my head now. I drove to her new address and parked close to her house. I must have spent hours there, thinking if I should come in or not, If she somehow remembered after Castiel died or if I could make her brain work again if I told her the truth. But then I just drove back home and fell asleep wrapped in that stupid lumberjack flannel of yours. The one I always mocked, yeah? She may understand me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. You want her, you want me and Sam to be happy. I don’t know if I can do that, Dean. It’s like myt brittle soul shrewd and my body is just waiting to collapse.’’ You signed, overwhelmed by the battle without an anthem. The victory with no triumph. Is it still a win when you don't have someone to come home too? ‘’Your dog died, it’s the first birthday you didn’t live to see, and I bought all the things you told Mrs Butters you wanted for your birthday because it’s your birthday. I just don’t know how to celebrate it with you dead. People stop counting after they die, right? They just say he’d have been 42 or he died at 41. They give melancholy smiles when they wake up and check the day on their phones and a woe atmosphere swallows them for the rest of the day. Then they get better the next day. I think everyday is your birthday.’’ You attempt to wipe away your tears, which only causes your pulsating hand to stain your face red. ‘’Dean, for the first time, what died stayed dead! Congrats.’’ Once again, a hysterical laugh. ‘’I wish but no. What died didn’t stay dead, you are alive, so alive in my head. I swear you are there some days. I wake and watch the door, so sure you’ll come back. Sam says I’m living in delusion and I have to wake up and keep going since that's what you would want. That's enough to make him keep going, but it only makes me angry. Everyone we know and some strangers looks at me like I'm a house on fire and no longer a warm home, like I'm a car accident. They think I don't notice but I do.’’ You look at your boots, the whole is rolling out blood like your hands. You feel closer to Dean. How sick.

‘’Help, I’m still right where you left me." You plea, his love lingering like a bruise. ''I think gravity is overwhelming and it keeps me here. Sometimes it’s like I’m one of those dusted books Sam used to read. Or those Bukowski ones that you hid, so we wouldn’t see how smart you’re. You tried so hard to hide your intelligence because you didn’t think you were entitled to it. You saw yourself as the protector and never the valuable one for protection. You, the man who made an EMF out of an old radio, who rebuilt the Impala from the ground multiple times, and who knew patterns better than any detective. The man who showed me I could rely on someone other than myself. The dude with a lopsided grin, tough hands and a heart of gold. I miss you so much. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing all those classic rock songs and Taylor Swift pop hits, while I drove here. I would think you were home, smelling like guts because you wanted to eat before taking a shower after a hunt. I would think that you are in the Deancave, waiting for me to curl up on your lap to watch Scooby Doo or Doctor Sexy MD until we aren’t watching anymore. If I didn’t know better I would think no death could take you from me. There would be no tear us apart in our vows.’’ The only thing that keeps your organism working is that Dean died knowing how much you loved him. You never let this talk for later or never. No tomorrow is promised. That's a nice comfort, maybe that's what will help you to let go in the future. ‘’But yesterday your stupid, skink dog died and I lost the last living thing that I had from you. You know what’s more angerting? I cried and Sam cried and I noticed we were the living things you left behind and all we have is each other. All your closets of backlogged dreams were left for us-- so yeah. Sam is done hunting and he’s met a lovely girl, and they are moving in like in your domestic dreams. I’m taking care of the family business like your other contradictory dream and making sure Sam is safe enough to be normal. Because I have to, we have too. Stupidly enough, I still wait for the day you’ll burst out the door and tell us to hit the road again. I still watch every episode of your dumb tv shows to make sure I’ll know everything that happened when you ask. I still drive around in your car and close my eyes when the street is calm, only picturing you driving as Baby’s engineers go wild but those are my hands on the steering wheel. If I didn't know better, I’d think you are still around. But I know better. I still feel you all around. I love you.’’

Your monologuing ends as astutely as it stated. You get up, press a kiss to your ruined for the next weeks hands and place it on the rock with writings. You turn around and walk back to the car that you parked near, only in case of Dean wanting to see Baby. How knows? You and your clandestine faith. You lick your lip and get in the car.

You swear you the AC/DC cassette wasn't there before, but when you turn on the car and the radio it starts playing. It's the first true smile that comes to your mouth, it's bloodstained and you look like a shameless woman. With that you can deal.

It hurts a bearable hurt for now. You didn't think it was possible. Maybe someday.

The end.

(she takes a little longer to arive in heaven than sammy. his baby brother says that women are most likely to live around six years more than men. it doesn't ease him up, though. dean waited sam for too long, his platonic soulmate. and now he has to wait his romantic one too? the eldest Winchester considers it the best earthly present when the he sense you around, that smell of orange and apples. it's you, he knows before even turning around. he can't wait to love you again. your name rolls off your tongue so naturally, as if you had seen each other just yesterday: ‘’hey, y/n.’’)

But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?

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Starburst's footnote: It just didn't feel right to make an author's note on the top. I wanted it all only to be an arrow to the story. So, this is my side note: it's six am and I'm up writing this after inspiration kissed me with a bruise in the middle of the night. Or more like grabbed my throat. Anyway, I had to write and finish this one to post today, even pushing sleep aside. Hey, we are writers, that's what we do! I've been watching the show since I was eleven and I cried like a baby with the finale. This series was just so important and crucial to molde aspects of relationships for me. The song marjorie by Taylor Swift was used here, and so was the line "you got my devotion/ but man, I can hate you sometimes" by Harry Styles. I told you guys I would use it somewhere! A special thanks to @msmarvelouswinchester who helped me with her encouraging and opinon. You are the best! And with all of this I wanna say: Happy bday, Dean Winchester!

REBLOG AND COMMENT! Feedback is magic! Especially about this fic, I’d like to know your opinion. Tags in the reblog! Send an ask or dm to get in the taglist.

#dean winchester #dean's birthday #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester's birthday #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines

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writerwrites · 3 years

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Yuánfèn | 05

Ch. 5: L'esprit de Escalier: “The feeling after leaving a conversation where you can’t help but think about all the things you should have said.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Chapter Word Count: 4.3k Chapter Warnings: Slow burn, anxiety and shock related to elevator failure incident, small mention of Steve’s minor injuries from the initial Ultron fight in the Tower, small mentions of two idiots being horny and doing nothing about it because re: idiots

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“You look…” She trailed off, eyes bright as they met Steve’s.

“I look like what? You don’t like the blue?” He tugged on the collar of the blue button up he’d put on for Tony’s party as he laughed nervously. His smile was almost one of shy boyishness as he looked tenderly at the familiar woman in the small bed, relieved she was lucid. He’d asked Sharon to keep him in the loop and she hadn’t had a single clear day when he was in Spain.

“I was going to say tired. When’s the last time you slept?” Her aged hands reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and Steve quickly stepped over to help her. “The blue looks nice, but you know I’ll always prefer you in a uniform.” He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks.

“It’s been a few days, but knowing Stark, I probably won’t get any sleep tonight either.” Steve realized he was holding back, Peggy noticing it too when he paced around the end of the bed with his hands on his hips. “Like father, like son, I guess. Big party tonight. Tony even joked that he’d invited some of our old friends, so just wait until I’m back to let you in on whether or not we had some other vets there.”

“Hmm,” She smiled and watched him, “I wouldn’t put it past Stark at all...and did you find a new dance partner?”

Steve felt like he should've known that she would figure out why he came before he could pluck up the courage to ask Peggy to help him talk through his feelings. Sam was a great listener but there wasn’t anyone left that really knew him, not like Peggy did. Even with Natasha invested in his romantic life, she didn’t understand why he was so hesitant to try something new. With a nod, he sat in the chair next to Peggy’s bed, pulling it in closer. She smiled at him, reaching her hand out for him and he didn’t hesitate to take it, “I didn’t ask anyone to Stark’s party, but she’ll be there.”

There was a long quiet between the two of them. Steve wondered if he’d hurt her by mentioning you or whether Peggy was trying to find the right questions to ask. It wasn’t a painful silence, their hands staying together, fingers laced through like they were making the most of their time together and, in a way, they were. Periodically they would steal a glance at one another, smile softly, and settle back into their thoughts. Eventually, Peggy would break the silence, but not how he’d expected. “What are you still waiting for, Steve?” His thumb paused in its rhythmic brushing over the loose, translucent and speckled skin. “Burdening yourself with things you can’t change is no way to live.”

Though he nodded in agreement, Steve bit his tongue. There was so much that felt unfair, complicated. He let Peggy change the conversation, reminisce about old Stark parties and music from the forties, but Steve fought to be present and enjoy this rare moment with her. Was it fair to tell you he had feelings for you when he still loved Peggy, even if he couldn’t have her? You both had your own baggage, so could you find happiness together without working through that first independently? These were the same questions that had been running through his head every night he’d been back at the Tower. He had sat up, notebook in hand, and tried to write through it, but only ended up staring at the sketches of you asleep on his chest. He wanted to say there was happiness in Spain, but the silence since returning to New York felt like he had misread the situation. Instead of talking through it, he pressed a kiss to Peggy’s forehead and told her he’d be back as soon as he could, making no promises to dance with that new dance partner.

Your ears were still ringing when Sam picked you up off of the elevator floor. He had shouted over the sound of fighting far overhead and your own screams every time the elevator moved, but it hadn’t started in complete chaos. At first it seemed like a power surge, the elevator falling a few floors. JARVIS didn’t respond and then, after a little bit of waiting all hell broke loose. I got you, that was all he kept shouting as he pinned you in a corner of the elevator, arms wrapped around you while you wondered how many floors it would take to plummet to a certain death. In the minutes of peace between the first serious fall and the second, Sam still held you as he tapped on his smartwatch to call for help. The snapping sound of the elevator cables, clang of something heavy and metal clamoring through the elevator shaft and denting the roof, the squeal of the elevator breaks struggling to stop the lift from another terrifying descent. Needless to say, Sam’s message went unanswered. With Sam pressed against you and both of your bodies losing weight in the third descent you worried about the team, certain that it had to be exceptionally bad if whoever was responsible managed to get into Stark Tower.

Somehow the breaks held long enough for Sam to pry the doors open. The entire experience left you shaking in fear and even though the voice in your head was saying you were in shock, you couldn’t make yourself move from the curled up position in the corner of the elevator. It left Sam tasked with picking you up and using his adrenaline to carry you up the three flights of stairs back to your office as your body kept shaking in his arms. You couldn’t be sure if the ringing in your ears made the stairwell seem uncomfortably quiet or if the hell you two had just escaped was all in your head.

“Doc, I need to check on the team. I’ll be right back, just keep the door closed and…” He looked around your office, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, brought your bag to you and set it at your feet. “Your phone’s in here? I’ll be right back.” Even with tear-blurred vision you could see the concern in his dark eyes and the turmoil of leaving you, so you nodded because your teeth were chattering and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Sam pulled the soft blanket from the back of your couch over your shoulders, “I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t matter if he’d been gone five minutes or ten or even twenty, you spent the entire time with a racing heart. Every little sound set you off into a fit of tears that would choke up after your racing brain tried to logic yourself into calming techniques and there were sounds, screaming and banging. With your face buried in your knees and your body completely racked with exhaustion you lost all track of time, your mind pinballing between replaying the elevator’s descent, your need for sleep, fits of panic and calm, and even the horrible moments where you’d been in a cold basement identifying the remains of your family members years earlier. What you hadn’t been thinking about was getting your head in the game and following Sam to the frontline to patch up the team.

Sam came back, as promised, but he wasn’t alone. The sound footsteps in the hall had you sobbing into your knees, rocking back and forth as you tried to not imagine the worst. “Hey you,” Steve whispered, his warm breath hitting your arm moments before he took your hands in his. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” His warm hands brushed up your arms and pulled gently to untangle you from the ball you’d put yourself in. “Let’s go home, okay? Let’s get you out of here.”

Picking your head up a little, you looked around the room, the light was on and your office looked completely unchanged. Sam was standing behind Steve watching you, looking far more put together than you were as you caught sight of your own reflection and immediately looked away. You hadn’t seen yourself in such a state since the Chitauri attack and it wasn’t a trauma you wanted to relive. Slowly you turned your gaze to Steve and his thumbs immediately brushed away the damp on your cheeks. With a sniffle you asked, “Is it over?” The rasp in your voice gave away that you’d been screaming in the elevator or maybe it was from all the crying afterward. That logical voice in the back of your head tried to push forward again as you tried to box up your own feelings, “Is the team okay? Do they need me?”

“Nah, we’re getting you out of here, Doc. The big brain idiots can deal with their mess.” Sam’s tone was brotherly but firm, no room to tell him you could handle the truth about whatever happened at the party.

When Steve tried to help you up your legs wobbled and you nearly fell. Quickly wrapping his arms around your waist, he steadied you. “It’s a lot of stairs, honey. Let’s just think about this for a minute.”

“Between the two of us we could get her down to the garage.” Sam offered as he watched you stare at Steve’s feet while you tried to steady your breathing, unaware that the reason you were trying to calm yourself down now had more to do with the proximity to the super soldier that just called you a pet name.

“You’ve been through hell tonight too, Sam.” Steve may have been talking to Sam but his attention was on you, how your arms were still pulled close to your chest and your whole body was shaking. “You both can crash here at the Tower. There’s a spare room next to mine. She can have mine, it’ll be fine. We can make it work. That’s a few floors down, we’ll manage if you can just carry her bag for her.”

“Steve,” you started with your head already shaking ‘no’ but you couldn’t be sure if you were saying no to staying in the Tower or kicking him out of his bed, probably the former. It wasn’t lost on that noisy logical part of your brain that your body seemed to have settled on freeze rather than fight or flight, but that sliver of rational brain seemed to focus on the fact that if someone got into the Tower once that they could do it again.

“I promise, you’re safe. You just hold on to me.” Effortlessly, Steve picked you up and pulled you to his chest. Wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles behind him, you buried your face in Steve’s neck. Your arms draped around his neck but as they walked you through the Tower to the level with the Avengers’ apartments you relaxed, albeit just a little.

You had only been on this floor a handful of times and if anyone was watching you cling to Steve like a baby björn, you were too busy trying to remember to breathe to notice. In fact, you hardly even noticed Steve and Sam talking along the way or the conversation about showers, clothes, and breakfast in the morning. What you did notice was the circles Steve was pressing into your spine as he talked casually to Sam. He took his time to head next door to his room and what may have seemed like casual chit chat to Sam or even appeared like Steve being a bit of a moving, physical talker felt like you were being gently rocked into a less panicked state. Slowly, Steve had somehow lulled you into the headspace you were in once he joined you in Spain, the weight of emotions washing away in the familiar smell of his body wash and clothes.

If the sound of a door closing and the quiet that ensued wasn’t an indication that you were now in Steve’s room it was the smell of the place, just as lovely and welcoming. As Steve leaned forward to set you down on the bed you instinctively clung more tightly to him. He straightened up and you felt the rumble of him holding back a laugh before he sighed and gave in, walking into his bathroom and setting you down on the sink. Absolutely refusing to let go of the small comfort that had numbed the terror of the evening may have been the main reason for your behavior, but there was also the fact that you didn’t want to acknowledge your bundle of insecurities. So, for a moment longer at least, you stayed right there holding on to him. “So this is how it’s going to be?” Steve brushed his fingers through your hair as you nodded into his chest. “Well, I’m not sure how comfortable you’re going to be trying to sleep in this dress and my shirt’s pretty torn up after the fight.”

The fight… For the first time since you stepped onto that elevator you really looked at him. Your legs slowly loosened their grip on his waist and Steve helped you reach the ground, even if it was just by the tips of your toes because he pinned you between his body and the counter of the bathroom sink. Even in the warm golden glow of the bathroom you could see that he was already healing from a good hit to the face. Your palm went to his cheek and he covered it in his own as if to tell you he was okay. Maybe you were going to ask him if he was, but all you managed to say was one shaky, half whispered, “Stay?”

Steve felt selfish for even thinking, hoping really, that you would ask, but he wanted to stay with you. He wanted to keep you safe and finally get some sleep himself. Instead of asking if you were sure, he found a confession passing his own lips in the same hushed tone, “I haven’t slept since we got back from the villa.”

The sound of your breath hitching, your surprise and exasperation, would’ve been unnoticed by the average person, but it might as well have been on a loudspeaker with the super soldier serum in his veins. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you tried to unpack the weight of what you were feeling with those words, with the pet name he’d used before he scooped you up. Somewhere between being both understood and hurt that neither of you had managed to say as much in three days. Your head was clouded by his words and your body seemed to forget that lungs needed air to breathe as his hands were back firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I missed you. I should’ve checked on you.”

Steve hushed you, a welcome end to what you knew would’ve been a word vomit rambling monologue of you unpacking whatever you were feeling. Your eyes met and you wanted to lean forward just a little and see what it was like to kiss him, to see if he would reciprocate, but the panic settled back in your bones and you scolded yourself for even entertaining the thought, gaze falling back to the floor. As you came down from the jittery terror of the elevator and the high of being held by him you remembered the sting of Tony’s speech at the party. To his world, you were certain that he saw you as nothing more than a silly girl with a silly crush.

When you withdrew into yourself again, Steve assumed you were trying to figure out how to ask for some privacy. It had been a long night and even though he thought you were still beautiful with makeup mussed from crying, he didn’t want to put more emotions on the pressure of the day. His thumbs brushed over your hips and he took a step back toward the door. “Take a shower and I’ll pull some clothes for you. I’m going to run down to the gym and take a quick shower there myself and then we’ll forget this day happened and get some sleep.”

He looked down at your hands, fingers now wrapping tightly around his pinky and ring finger. Steve wasn’t sure what you stopping him from walking away meant, but he was too scared to ask. While you had been the first person to understand him on a deeper level since he came out of the ice, you were still from a generation that was much more upfront sexually than he was. As much as he wanted you, that wasn’t something he could just walk into without clear boundaries and commitment. For you, your reluctance to let him go was too embarrassing to put into words, you kept your eyes on your linked hands rather than his face, terrified to find a look of pity or something less emotional written there. You spoke to your hands, giving them a gentle squeeze when you asked, “How long will I be up here alone?”

Tilting his head to the side, the Avenger realized what you meant and he visibly relaxed, “Full of surprises.” With those words, your words, a call to your trip to Spain, you managed to look up at him. When your eyes met you both managed soft, understanding smiles. “Ten minutes tops, put a timer on your phone. If you hear any clanging around it’s Tony fixing the elevator. I promise, you’re safe, okay? We’ve got everything under control and no one, especially me, will let anything happen to you.” It may have been what you needed to hear to let your hands fall from his, but it didn’t change the fact that after Tony’s speech you doubted that anyone was going to rush to save you. Whether Steve really realized that or not was another issue entirely, but you bit your tongue, nodded, and watched him leave.

10… You turned the knob of the shower and looked through the glass at your clothes on the floor. It felt like another life when Steve stammered over complimenting you in the dress and just as you replayed that moment in your mind your brain tugged at the latter events of the evening. You ducked your head under the hot stream of water to try and rinse everything away as your fried nerves seemed to be so eager to push you back into that shaken state.

9… He hissed as the water poured into the small cuts on his back and scalp while his gaze moved to the pile of clothes on the bench next to the shower. Another party, another missed opportunity to steal a dance with a girl he couldn’t get off his mind. The part of him that still loved Peggy was beginning to feel like someone else. He paused under the water, cringing as the water pressure made the fresh bruises on his back throb. The man had no idea how to string a sentence together around either of the two of them.

8… You paused, savoring the smell of Steve’s body wash coating your skin. Immediately, you wanted to run back to him, to the safety that you always found in his arms. The rapid pulse fluttering in your chest neither complete panic or complete anticipation. You only knew that it had more to do with him than the fear of any attack on the Tower.

7… He quickly rinsed off the bubbles of soap, eyes pressed tightly closed as he tried not to picture your bare silhouette through the foggy glass of his shower. That muscle twitched with want and neglect at the thought of the hot water running down your body, the same one that had clung to him for nights on end.

6… Wrapping your arms around yourself under the cascade of water, you pushed away the thoughts creeping into your mind as you became more aware of how alone you were in his space. You tried to remember to breathe, relax, find one happy moment in the day to say it was a day worth surviving. Safety was just a few minutes away, you repeated over and over in your head, but the hot water didn’t seem to be able to reach the cold in your bones.

5… Clearing his throat, he toweled off and practically ran back to his room. Circumnavigating the way he overthought every moment with you until he was back in his room, focusing on the reality of you asking him to stay.

4… You froze, staring at your reflection in his mirror, when you heard the door to the bedroom open and the movement just a few feet away on the other side of the door. The sun-kissed bare-faced reflection looking back looked exhausted, anxious, a weak and fragile stranger.

3… Steve pulled on his clothes quickly in case you came out to see who had walked into the room. Then he grabbed his favorite crewneck sweater, a bit worn in so that it’s once rich-blue color had faded just a little. The sweatpants he piled on top were his only ones with a decent drawstring, which he hoped would help them from falling off of you. As he reached for a pair of socks he remembered how much you hated them, always trying to keep your cold feet off of him in the night and ultimately wiggling out of them on instinct just a few minutes after you were actively asleep.

2… With a sheepish smile you reached a hand out of the bathroom when you heard the knock and tried to take his clothes without dropping his towel- which you couldn’t seem to wrap tightly enough around your curves. Yawning, you dressed as quickly as possible. Grabbing your dirty party ensemble, you caught a glimpse of your clothed reflection. It wasn’t just that you were swimming in his clothes, it was how different you looked with his sweater clinging to your damp skin and sweats threatening to slip lower on your hips- their width and the drawstring your only saving grace.

1… His mouth fell open when you walked out swimming in his clothes. You were too busy throwing your own in your bag to notice. There was no compromise to be had, Steve knew he could never ask for it back now.

Though he’d been laying on the bed, he swung his legs back over and went to stand up. Immediately worrying he was going to leave you panicked and asked, “Wait! Where are you going?”

His eyes stayed on you as he approached you slowly. When he reached you in just a few steps, Steve brushed his fingers through your hair, combing it out of your face. “I promised I wasn’t going anywhere and I-”

“Keep your promises. I know.” You smiled and nodded up at him. “But you also promised we were going to go to bed and forget this day ever happened.”

There was so much he wanted to try and explain, but just like he had with Peggy that morning, he fell silent. The last thing he wanted was for the first time he kissed you to be in a bed, it was why he’d stood up. Now he also didn’t want it to be in the Tower where you’d almost died an hour earlier or in a bedroom where you may have thought he was trying to take advantage of you. He lost his resolve, settling on waiting a little longer. Instead, he looked at you and focused on something small that had been bugging him all night. “I’m sorry you want to forget that today happened, but I understand. Tony can be a bit of an ass. I was really excited that he was going to finally give you the recognition you deserved as a member of the team. I appreciate everything Dr. Cho has done for us, but you’re the one taking care of us day in and day out.”

Throwing your arms around him, you hugged him more tightly than you ever had before. Your hands held his shirt in fists as you refused to let yourself cry anymore for the day. Steve didn’t hesitate to hold you back, rubbing those familiar circles down your spine. He knew that though he couldn’t find you in the crowd tonight he could perfectly picture the disappointment on your face at Tony’s slight and to his surprise it had made his temper flare a little. One thing Steve didn’t know about you though was that when you were completely tired or overly emotional you had a hard time processing in English and the muffled “Thank you” into his chest came out in your first language. That new little realization made him smile.

Pulling you to the bed, you climbed in after Steve and settled closely into his side as you always had. Like two pieces of the same puzzle, a perfect fit. Steve pulled the blankets over the two of you, turned off the light, and while one hand found yours and held it just below his chin, the other went under his sweater to your back. His large hands on your bare skin sent shivers down your spine. It was a welcome surprise that you thought might lead to something else, and you immediately hid your face at the stupidity of such a thought. Steve drew those little circles into your back again and, for the first time, he fell asleep first. The slow rise and fall of his chest, the cadence of his heartbeat, and you were quick to follow. You pressed your lips to his side and he hummed in his sleep and pulled you closer as you drifted off, a million things left unsaid.

A/N: You’re still here!? Thanks for reading Chapter 5! I never promised every chapter’s word would belong to Reader and in this one I think it may even belong more to Peggy than Steve. The over arching theme of Yuánfèn is about Steve and Reader though, don’t worry. I really appreciate you all being so kind and supportive of my little corner of Tumblr while I try to write consistently on a crazy schedule. Your comments and messages mean the world to me.

What do you think will happen when our favorite little idiots wake up in the morning?

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to one of my other tag lists.

#fic: steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #writer: writerwrites

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rebel-in-white · 3 years

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Supporting the Future Captain America: Sam’s Journey

After episode 2 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, I had so many thoughts and feels about some topics the show presented. This post: Marvel is showing America how we support Black people into positions of power, and I love it.

When Sam refused to become Captain America, I completely understood his decision. He never says it outright, but a part of his decision is based on the fact that he’s a Black man in America and believed that he wouldn’t be accepted. The writers of the show don’t explicitly tell us this, but they smartly let viewers come to their own conclusion after these scenes:

Sam, because he is a Black man in America, gets pulled over by the police and asked for his ID. The police officer even gets tense when he raises his voice in frustration. John Walker is praised and embraced by the police because of his new status as Captain America and also because he’s White.

Becoming the new Captain America is a complicated business as explained by both John Walker and Sam Wilson. Walker voiced his doubts in the opening scene of episode 2, and Sam says that the shield never felt his. Now, imagine taking on the complexity of that shield and that legacy, especially after the Blip, and adding race to that as well. It’s understandable that Sam was hesitant, and eventually refused to accept that immense burden.

How will he eventually become Captain America? I believe it will happen through a support system because that is how you raise members of a historically oppressed community. It’s not just by throwing money or resources at people, then expecting them to succeed--it’s by supporting and believing in people as well. Letting people see that success could be theirs, and that they will have people to support and help them if they need it.

So far, here are the members of Sam’s support system in becoming the first Black Captain America:

Rhodey:

Rhodey is an important part of this support system because he is already in a position of power and has supported Tony Stark for numerous years. America trusts Rhodey, we trust Rhodey, and Sam trusts Rhodey. He’s also someone who understands what it means to be a Black man in a predominately White space. He can also serve as a mentor for Sam - an older, Black leader he can relate to and discuss issues only he can understand.

We can see this in episode 1 when Sam and Rhodey stand together, staring at the shield:

These are two intelligent, hard working, distinguished Black men, gazing at a shield that represents American freedom, a right that used to belong to only a small fraction of the American population. Steve became Captain America before Civil Rights Movement, during a time of hatred, bigotry, and genocide. Rhodey looks at the shield and declares it a new day, signaling to the viewers that times have changed and that we need to be open to that change. People can accept Sam as the new Captain America, who will embody freedom and justice in a different manner.

Rhodey understands the significance of this moment and knows that Sam could be an excellent Captain America. Sam is not there yet. I think Sam is still wrapped up in “Oh my God, I have to fill in Steve’s shoes. Can I do it? This is something I have to do alone.” And this series will prove to him that he is not alone, that he has people who care and will support him as Captain America.

Isaiah

it’s strange to put Isaiah here because he doesn’t care about Sam or anything having to do with the government/Captain America/heroes. But he’s the first Black Super Soldier. He almost killed the Winter Soldier back in 1951.

Isaiah is part of this support system because he will be living evidence for people that a Black man could do what Steve Rogers did, making it easier for Sam to be accepted as Captain America. I do think that his life’s story will be known to the American public, and he will get the recognition he deserves by the end of the series. it won’t make up for the betrayal his own country has done to him, though.

He’s also a cautionary tale for Sam. Isaiah, like so many Black people who have historically been used and forgotten by the military, was thrown aside, without support or recognition, when he was no longer useful. The same thing could happen to Sam. After he serves as Captain America, could he also be cast aside as soon as he’s done - without help and without the respect he deserves? Could he find himself used for nefarious experiments? Sam needs to have a strong support system to make sure that doesn’t happen.

About Isaiah, I want to add that his story is based on real history. Historically, Black people have been experimented on by the American government or people in power. If you haven’t heard about Henrietta Lacks, please look up this woman. It’s an incredible story of how scientists and doctors used a Black woman’s amazing cells to create vaccines, medications, and procedures all without her consent or without giving her credit. Her family didn’t even understand what was going on, until a few years ago, and they didn’t even have health insurance. Just like Isaiah and his young relative. He served his country, was experimented on, put in jail, Bucky declares him a hero, but he lives in some dilapidated house, alone and bitter.

Bucky Barnes

Bucky is going to be essential in getting Sam to become Captain America. I love how Marvel is letting him make mistakes when it comes to race and understanding Sam’s decision. I love it because we make mistakes about race all the time. We are afraid to ask because we don’t want to be labeled as racist, we don’t want to offend, and we want to be seen as progressive and on the right side. In episode 2, we have Bucky make assumptions and show his ignorance because he’s from a different timeline, and he’s White.

He doesn’t understand the significance of what’s happening, and a lot of people have been in his shoes. How many of us have seen, or even committed, a prejudiced act without understanding what was going on? Without understanding the other side? It’s ok to be ignorant. It’s ok that Bucky was ignorant in this scene, it doesn’t make him a bad person or racist, but what’s dangerous is when people refuse to learn and change and stay ignorant. Or, when people stay quiet, don’t ask questions, and form all types of assumptions based on their ignorance.

Bucky keeps asking about the shield. The shield has a lot of meaning to him, and he just doesn’t understand how Sam could give it up. And Sam reveals that maybe Steve or Bucky will never understand his decision because they come from different time periods and races.

We don’t know too much about the outcome of this conversation (it happened at the end of episode 2), but Bucky became upset that he hurt Sam. We can see this when he asks Dr. Raynor what was the second rule and then, when he mets up with Sam outside, he confesses that he feels awful. I think he was about to apologize to Sam before Walker interrupted them.

Bucky is essential in Sam’s support system because he’s going to prove to Sam that he’s not alone in being Captain America. We see that Sam feels this burden very strongly, and he feels like its something that he alone has to shoulder:

Ultimately, the decision to be Captain America belongs to Sam, but Bucky will show him that he doesn’t have to take that burden by himself. We can see the beginning of this when they present a united front when meeting people like Walker.

Bucky also shows how a White man can be part of a Black man’s support system as an ally. He’s trying to understand the other side, he asks questions, he respects the other’s decisions, and he values Sam’s abilities. Keep in mind, though, that Bucky is dealing with trauma and mental health issues, so hopefully we’ll see more positive behavior from him as the series continues.

So excited to see Sam Wilson eventually accept and become Captain America. Thank you for reading this.

Why I capitalized “b” in “Black” and “w” in “White”

#the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #tfatws #sam bucky #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier meta #meta #racism in america

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

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Self Discovery

It’s Who I Am

Part 2

Description: How would The Falcon and The Winter Soldier have played out if you, the younger daughter of Howard Stark got involved? You had been kidnapped by HYDRA at a young age, your mind taken from you as they forced you to work towards creating new weapons for them and when HYDRA had fallen you had gotten free with your scattered memories for you to slowly piece together.

Word Count: 2715

It's a little over an hour later when the three of you reach the airport and board the military plane which had dropped Sam and Bucky at the warehouse. Joaquin is more than a little surprised that you of all people had just happened to be there and had joined their group. You take a seat and lean back with your eyes closed. At this point your cracked rib isn't hurting any more, which you should probably look into as theres a good chance you could also be enhanced thanks to your time with HYDRA, but theres also a good chance you have a really high pain tolerance thanks to HYDRA.

You take off your shirt, leaving you sitting in your leggings and sports bra as you decide to work on the technology in your shirt. You had used Tony's nano technology to create the shirt, and leggings, so they were smart and it was just a matter of programming them to do exactly what you wanted. Right now you wanted to make it so they would absorb most of the shock from any time you got hit, because dealing with super soldiers who you didn't want to kill was just a bit different from aliens you could use brute force on.

Sam and Bucky's talking pulls you out of your thoughts and you look up at them. They begin to argue about something so you go back to your thoughts, preferring those to the sound of their voices. You had found that you were quite good at getting lost in your thoughts, hiding from the world and it's problems in the relative safety of your own mind. You knew very well it was a trauma response, disassociating and blocking everything around you out. It might not be the healthiest thing but considering everything you had been through and the many ways you could respond to that trauma you'd take this response.

You had been working on all of this stuff with yourself since you had basically refused to see a therapist. You knew you should talk to someone but the settings you had seen that they offered therapy made you want to just shut down worse than you simply keeping to yourself with all of this. Before you know it you have already fixed the problems with your suit, gotten the nano bots set to better protect you in a fight.

Once the suit is finished you look up and come back to reality, and realize that the plane is landing. As you zone back in Sam notices and asks, "you good, y/n?"

You blink before focusing on him, "yeah, I'm good," its a lie but for some reason you don't want Sam to worry about you.

He laughs gently and shakes his head, "thats a lie, but we don't have to talk about it. It's not my business anyways, I was just checking."

This causes you to pause for a moment, normally people would continue pushing you for answers, "alright," it comes out almost as a question but the conversation ends there since the plane touches down at that moment.

Baltimore, you recognize the city as Baltimore. You follow Sam who is following Bucky, who is leading the way somewhere in the streets of Baltimore. Sam pauses for a moment to talk to some kid and you gently wave a hello before you all continue on your way. The three of you walk up to a house where Bucky knocks on the door and a kid answers only to say the person Bucky is looking for doesn't live there.

"Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here." That gets the kid to listen and he closes the door as he goes to tell Isaiah who is wanting to see him. It's a moment later when the door opens again and the kid lets you all in.

You barely make it into the room, and see Isaiah when you begin feeling sick to your stomach. You know him. You had done something to him during your time with HYDRA and whatever that something was it was bad enough that the sight of the man in front of you made you feel sick. From the look on his face he recognizes you as well.

Isaiah gives you a sour look and you point towards the door, tears beginning to form in your eyes, "I'm- I'm gonna go," you look down and your hands are shaking. You look back and forth between Isaiah and the door a few times in the space of five seconds, "I'm sorry-" you say quickly to Isaiah before running out the door.

You make it to a tree in the yard where you catch yourself and take a pause to regain your bearings. You're about to hurl, but you're able to hold it back as you let yourself collapse to the ground, leaning against the tree as the tears flow down your cheeks. You grab your head and begin taking deep breaths. You didn't know what you had done to Isaiah but you knew you regretted all of it, that you had been forced to do it, just like every other horrible thing which you had done.

You get a hold of yourself after a few minutes and then sam and Bucky come rushing out the door, they walk past you Sam loudly asking why Bucky hadn't mentioned the fact that there has been a black super soldier for decades. You stand up and once again you're suddenly shaken back to reality as a police siren goes off nearby. It's as though the sound resets you, something that felt familiar as all of your physical reactions to seeing Isaiah disappeared. You stood up straight and made your way over to Sam and Bucky where a cop was asking if Sam was bothering Bucky.

"No. Do you know who this is?" Bucky asks sounding a bit angry with the cops for deciding to pull this shit. You can see the realization come to the cop's eyes as the other whispers in his ear, the regret and embarrassment clear on his face.

"Mr.Wilson, I'm sorry- I didn't recognize you without the goggles." With that he rushes back to the car where they end up finding out that Bucky has a warrant out for his arrest since he'd ditched a state mandated therapy session.

The police take Bucky away, leaving you and Sam in the street. It's once things calm down that Sam turns to you and asks once again, "are you alright? You ran out of there pretty fast."

You pause for a moment, looking at him before answering, "I'm... as alright as I can be." There is another pause as you try to shove back the vague memories that were now remerging due to the immediate threat of the cops is gone. You swallow deeply then shake your head a little before beginning to walk down the street, figuring you might as well get walking if he's going to bug you about this. "It's easier to not talk about it."

Sam is quiet for a bit, simply walking beside you for a while before saying, "look y/n, that might work for now but eventually it isn't going to work anymore. I know you don't know me and I don't know you but, I'm willing to help you. It's just a matter of if you want it, but for now let's just go get Bucky out of prison."

Something about that causes you to pause, and you look at him as the both of you walk. It's a few moments before you decide to speak, "thanks." You walk in silence from there, considering what he had said, of all the people offering to help he seemed the most genuine, your gut told you that you could trust the man next to you. Your thoughts on this topic cause you to frequently glance over at him even if you didn't notice this fact.

Sam on the other hand does notice your frequent looks, but decides to stay quiet, feeling he had already pushed you enough for the short time you'd known each other. Having a quiet moment though as the both of you make your way to the police station he does find himself stealing his own glances at you, not in a crude way. Sam had practically never been around you up to this point and he'd been distracted all day, this was the first quiet moment there had been between just the two of you all day. He had noticed that your eyes are the color they are, or the curve of your nose and how it complimented the rest of your face so well. It was a known stereotype that you were attractive, you were a Stark you had to be attractive, but Sam hadn't taken the time to actually notice this before this and now that he had noticed he wasn't sure if he could forget it.

The pair of you make it to the police station and take some seats it the lobby area, after talking with the officers at the front desk to ask about conditions for Bucky's release. They don't give either of you any answers, leaving you to wait instead. Eventually a woman walks in and up to the both of you, introducing herself as Bucky's therapist.

As she does this Bucky is walked out the double doors, "thanks for getting him out."

"It wasn't me," the woman responds as none other than John Walker comes in, flaunting himself as he does so.

You can't stop the groan of annoyance that leaves your body as you see him and the woman says she has worked with him before.

Once Bucky is out the therapist walks over to him, "condition of your release session now, you too Sam- y/n you're fine to wait."

This tells Sam that it isn't an option for him to say no so he follows, leaving you with John who had said he wants to talk with all of you as soon as they're done. You grab your phone, and walk out to wait in the parking lot for Sam and Bucky rather than having to stand by John and Lemar while you wait and just for good measure you decide to take a moment and call Pepper to give her an update on what it is you're doing.

"Hello, y/n," Pepper answers the phone, "you alright?"

"Hey Pepper, I'm good, thanks. I'm going to be gone for a while, not sure how long but I found something to do and it seems like it might help me find some sort of purpose. I just didn't want you to worry."

"Thanks for letting me know, and good luck y/n," Pepper responds. Pepper had been trying to help you since Tony had died, Morgan was the only real family you had left even if you didn't remember any of them anyways. But making sure you at least had a chance at a life you'd want was the least she could do for you since your brother had sacrificed himself to give everyone that chance.

You had officially been declared dead when you were only 13 years old, it was because of this that you hadn't been included in your father's will. Then with your sudden coming back with the blip and Tony's unexpected death you hadn't been included in his either. This left you with nothing to your name, and to be frank you were okay with that, you didn't see the need for material items. There were so many other things you needed to do with your life that worrying about an inheritance was no where on your list. It was all too important to you to not let anyone down, you needed to re-learn how to be yourself. Be who you had been before HYDRA and all of that had happened. Thats what everyone wanted from you they kept telling you stories about yourself and how you had been when you were younger, how you had dressed, walked talked and acted. You just couldn't bring yourself to want to let anyone down by not being that person any more.

This was why Pepper took care of you almost like another child, you had nothing to your name and no memories of your life before HYDRA. You were relying solely on other people's word that you were who they say you are.

"Thanks Pepper, I'll be home soon, bye."

"Goodbye y/n," then theres a click as Pepper hangs up.

When Pepper hangs up you don't remove the phone from your ear, instead turning to see if John and Lemar had followed you out of the police station. They hadn't so you put your phone in your pocket, and move to lean up against the building while continuing to wait for Sam and Bucky. It's as you take a deep breath to relax for a moment that the door opens and you hear a voice that is already annoyingly familiar, "hey, y/n," John greets you.

You bite off a sarcastic remark and decide to instead say, "hey Josh."

You can hear him struggle to not correct you and then say, "look, we got off on the wrong foot, let's start over, I'm John Walker, Captain America," and he holds his hand out to shake your hand.

You raise an eyebrow slightly as you look at his hand, "yeah," you pause for a moment, "it's not happening John. You introducing yourself isn't going to change my gut feeling about you and honestly I'm sorry because as far as I can tell you haven't given me a reason to not like you, I just don't and you're going to have to deal with that fact." Once again you were blunt with him, you really didn't see a reason to dislike the guy but you did and until he gave you a reason to like him you were going to stick with your gut to be safe.

Relief. That is what you feel only moments after you finish talking to John as you see Sam and Bucky exit the building. John notices too and decides to get their attention by setting off the siren of the cop car you were standing next too.

Once again the sound causes your mind to feel as though it has reset. A sudden calm sets over you, but it's not a peaceful calm, it's a terrifying calm. A calm before the storm though what the storm was you had not a clue.

By the time you come back, and zone back in to reality, Sam and Bucky are standing next to you and talking with John. John is trying to convince Sam and Bucky once again that all of you should work together. Bucky flat out rejects this. Sam on the other hand offers a reason as to why it is easier for you to not work together, and it is actually logical.

John on the other hand does not appreciate Sam's calm and logical reasoning. "Well, if you won't work with me then stay the hell out of my way."

You give him a double take, like are you serious John? Didn't he just say that he wanted to try and start over so that you liked him? Welp, now your gut feeling at least makes sense and you don't have to feel bad for disliking him for no reason.

You follow Sam and Bucky as they walk away, "we don't have any leads, so I say we bet on someone who has a better hand than we do."

There is a moment of silence before Sam says, "no, we aren't going to see Zemo."

Of course Bucky brings up good points and in the end convinces Sam that going to visit Zemo is a good idea. You of course only have a vague idea of who Zemo is and know he is nothing but trouble so you're just going to trust them on this, and your gut was telling you that you could trust them on this. You instinct hadn't lead you wrong yet so you were going to continue following it until it proved otherwise.

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writer-monster · 3 years

Text

Picking Up The Pieces - Chapter 1

Sambucky. Slow burn. Friends to lovers. Longfic.

03/05

Sam sits in the van with Bucky and Steve. It’s quiet, now. It never used to be quiet like this. Not until “Bucky” joined the team.

Sam bites his lip. As bad as it sounds, he really wishes Barnes weren’t a part of their team at this particular moment. Because if it were just him and Steve, they would be laughing and talking and having fun and taking their mind off of the fact that they’re about to be risking their lives in battle.

But now… it’s hard to think about anything but that. The fighting, the danger, the death. How every adrenaline fuelled heartbeat could be their last. And Barnes just sits there, looking like death (only slightly) warmed up.

Sam has seen plenty of soldiers who've been traumatised, in fact he's helped many of them deal with their trauma. He’s seen coldness, anger and apathy. But he’s never met a guy like this. And it’s hard to explain, but James Barnes bothers him, in a way that no one else has ever bothered him before.

Which is a particularly weird way to feel about a guy who is your closest friend’s other closest friend, and your co-worker. It isn’t hate… but maybe it’s close to it.

Barnes clears his throat and frowns over at Sam, his long hair swinging over his face.

“What?” Sam asks.

“You’re looking at me.” Barnes says.

“I’m not allowed to look at you, now?” Sam asks.

“Could you guys please stop it?” Steve interrupts. “I get that Bucky’s a new face, and that you both need some time to adjust, but…”

Barnes looks down at his own shoes through hooded eyes, his expression blank. And Sam wishes he could know what he was thinking right at this moment.

Then Barnes snorts gently to himself. He looks back up at both of them, with something that’s almost a smile inching its way onto his face. “Heh. New face.”

Sam and Steve exchange a look of mutual confusion, and Steve shrugs.

Bucky’s smile fades almost instantly. “Because I’m very old.” He says, avoiding Sam’s gaze.

“Oh.” Steve says, putting on a fake, watery smile. “That’s funny, yeah.”

His voice doesn’t sound at all convincing.

When they’re out in the field, however, everything changes.

Bucky and Sam work together like they were made for this. Their eyes meet across the battlefield and it’s like an instant connection. Barnes actually grins, and Sam grins back. Sam kicks a guy in the chest and Barnes catches the flailing bad guy, and knocks him out with one punch.

“Thanks for the assist.” Sam says, landing smoothly next to Bucky, his wings still outstretched.

But Barnes turns away again just a moment after their eyes meet, his long hair hiding his face from Sam’s view. He doesn’t say anything at all.

“You’re welcome, Sam. Is the polite thing to say.” Sam says snarkily, before punching another AIM soldier in the face.

“What’s your problem?” Bucky asks, barely dodging the next soldier’s blow, and wavering a little on his feet.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” Sam asks, grabbing the soldier that almost hit Barnes and kicking him in the back of the knees, with one hand still tight around his arm. The AIM soldier falls to his knees, struggling to get his arm back from Sam’s grip so he can turn around and fight back.

“I haven’t got one.” Bucky punches the struggling AIM soldier in the gut.

“I haven’t got one either.” Sam lets the guy go, where he falls to the ground clutching at his stomach.

“So then why are we fighting?” Barnes asks. He takes a step back.

“Sounds like you two… need couple’s therapy.” The AIM soldier wheezes from the ground. “My wife and I used to fight like this all the time… before we went.”

Barnes glares at the AIM soldier like he very much wants to punch him again.

Sam raises his eyebrows. “Oh, you’re good. You should quit the whole AIM terrorism business and join a comedy club.” He says dryly.

The AIM soldier looks nervously at Barnes (who is still glaring daggers at him), then turns to Sam. “Could you tell Scary over there that I’m down for the count, already? Please?”

Sam grins. “Hey Scary! He’s down for the count, already.” He says cheekily to Barnes, who glares even more fiercely, now at the both of them, before turning on his heel and stalking away.

“Hey Scary!” Sam calls out as Barnes walks away. But Barnes doesn’t turn around. What he does do is give Sam the finger.

“Oooh.” Sam says softly.

“I wasn’t joking about the couple’s therapy.” The AIM soldier says.

“We’re really not a couple, dude.” Sam says. “I don’t even like the guy.”

The AIM soldier chuckles. “That’s exactly how I felt about my wife when I first met her. I remember at the time thinking that her theories were derivative and that she was a total stuck-up… well, B-word, really. We spent months just tolerating each other’s constant presence. Until one day I saw her in the lab when she wasn’t supposed to be there. It was two AM, you see. And I was just there to fetch some notes that I forgot. Her hair was in a messy bun, and her eyes were all pink from crying. I didn’t say a word, I just held her in my arms and kissed her, and told her everything would be alright. And that was that. I knew in that moment that I loved her.”

Sam gives the AIM soldier an odd look. “Yeah, well… Somehow, I don’t really think that’s going to happen in this case.” “Sorry to burst your bubble.” He adds sarcastically.

“Hey.” Barnes says as Sam joins him in the van, ready to go back to base. “You’re welcome.”

Sam turns to stare at Barnes in disbelief. “Seriously, go fuck yourself.” He mutters. “Stuck up asshole.”

“No, really, Sam. You’re welcome.” Barnes says teasingly. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?”

Steve finally gets into the van and joins them.

“Steve, are you sure I can’t punch the new guy?” Sam asks, just begging Steve to say yes.

“I think you know.” Steve said, before turning to Barnes. “And what did you do?”

“He keeps saying you’re welcome.” Sam says.

“That’s all?” Steve asks, wrinkling his nose.

“But you haven’t heard the way he says it.”

“Can you guys please just get along? Please? For my sake?” Steve asks, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and wrinkling his forehead. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s ridiculous. You guys need to get along.”

Sam sighs. “Fine. I’ll try.” He says.

Steve smiles happily. “Fantastic. Bucky?”

Bucky stares at his own hands, clenched together in his lap.

“Ok.”

“Good.” Steve says.

03/22

It’s three weeks later, and Steve has sat them down and made them make that same promise to get along exactly forty-seven times since then.

Sam’s been counting.

Sam’s been counting so that he can bring it up to annoy Barnes. He's thinking of waiting until Steve lectures them both for the fiftieth time, and throwing a little anniversary celebration in honour of the momentous occasion. Just to piss him off, and he knew it would.

And Barnes deserves it too. He’d gained confidence since he’d joined the team, but that had only led to him blossoming into the most annoying little shit on the face of the earth.

Recently Barnes had taken to making bad bird puns. If Sam showed off with an aerial stunt in the middle of battle, Barnes would accuse him of ‘peacocking around’, and then just make the most unbearable smirk imaginable.

If he was the first to spot something in any given scenario, be it a signpost or a bad guy, Barnes would almost certainly comment on how he was ‘eagle eyed’.

Once Sam had been tired on a mission, and Barnes had called him a ‘night owl’.

It was on.

03/23

He doesn’t have to wait long for fifty times either. As it happens the very next day at Steve’s apartment, and Sam is ready.

As Steve lectures them both, looking considerably more exhausted and downright cranky than Sam has ever seen him before, Sam pulls a carefully wrapped package out of one of the pouches at his belt.

“Hey, Scary. Over here.” Sam says, tossing Bucky the present.

“What the hell is this?” Bucky asks.

Sam gestures at Steve. “It is officially the fiftieth anniversary of you annoying me. Steve here’s been kind enough to keep count of all the times and mark the occasions for us. Haven’t you, Steve?”

Steve glares at Sam. Actually glares at him. Although to be fair, he glares at Bucky too. “I’m seriously starting to reconsider being friends with either of you, anymore.” He grumbles. “I’m going to go take some Tylenol.”

Steve leaves them alone as Barnes unwraps his present suspiciously.

It’s a book entitled ‘How Not to Be a Dick: An Everyday Etiquette Guide’.

Barnes starts shaking. For just a moment Sam is worried that perhaps he might have taken it too far.

Until he realises that Barnes is laughing.

“I think we might need to share it.” Barnes says, covering his mouth. But Sam can tell he’s grinning behind his hand.

“Maybe we do.” Sam admits, smiling to himself as well.

“Steve’s missing a very special moment.” Barnes says.

“Yeah, he is. What’s wrong with him?” Sam jokes.

Barnes looks pensive for a moment. “He actually has been getting a lot of headaches lately. Is that normal?”

Sam dismisses his concerns with a shake of his head. “He’s exaggerating, he’s not really got a headache. He’s just sick of having to deal with us.”

“No. He’s not exaggerating. That wrinkle across his brow, it’s the same one he always used to get whenever he got a migraine, back before the Super-Soldier Program.” Barnes insists.

Sam frowns. “I didn’t know. But he doesn't normally get headaches. Not since I’ve known him.”

Bucky and Sam exchange a quick look.

“Well, I’m sure he’s alright.” Barnes eventually says. “He would have told us if he was really unwell, since he’d be putting us in danger anyways, fighting alongside us if he was.”

“Yeah.” Sam says. “You’re right.”

Barnes turns the book around and reads the back with a half-smile.

“You’re a good friend to him.” He says.

“So are you.”

Barnes shakes his head. “Not me. I’m a bit of a wreck. I’m not sure I’m even capable of being anyone’s friend.”

“Then what are we?” Sam asks. His voice wavers a little. He almost can’t believe he said that, because of course they’re not friends, they’re-

Bucky considers this for a bit, like he kind of wants to go back and admit that he’s wrong but is desperately trying to think of another option out of sheer stubbornness. “Soulmates, I guess.” He eventually says with a shrug.

“Ok, what the hell?” Sam asks, in pure surprise (and a little bit of horror). “We are definitely not soulmates.”

“No, it’s not soulmates like ‘people who like each other’.” Bucky says. “I just meant… That we’re very similar in some ways. Like we kinda think the same. I don’t know, like we’re on the same wavelength, maybe?”

“Not similar, no. We are… very different people. But I do kind of get what you mean about being on the same wavelength. It’s kind of like I know you. Even though I’ve only known you for three weeks it’s like I know you.” Sam admits.

“Exactly!” Barnes says. “Yes! It’s weird!”

“You’ve got a kusare-en, dummies. That’s an undesirable but unavoidable relationship.” Clint Barton says from the corner, where he’s chewing on a sandwich made from ingredients raided from Steve’s fridge.

Sam and Barnes both jump in surprise. They hadn’t even noticed that he was there.

Sam goes wide eyed when Barnes suddenly lunges towards Clint with his metal arm drawn back for a heavy punch. Without thinking, Sam grabs Barnes by the shoulder.

Barnes actually stops. He stops dead, still and silent.

“What were you thinking, sneaking up on Barnes?” Sam hisses in exasperation.

Clint just shrugs. He hadn’t even looked concerned when Barnes was charging him.

“You okay… Bucky?” Sam asks. And it’s the first time he ever called him anything but Barnes.

Bucky turns around. He’s stiff as a board and something about his eyes doesn’t look right, like they aren’t focused properly, Sam thinks.

He nods once, then brushes Sam’s hand off his shoulder and slips from the room. A part of Sam wonders if he’s going to see Steve. They seem to have an especially close relationship at times like this one.

And when Barnes is having a particularly bad day, it isn’t that unusual for him and Steve to sleep in the same bed, huddled together with their arms around each other. Sam had walked in on them like that before, been completely shocked, but both of them had assured him that they weren’t actually together and that it really wasn’t sexual.

Sam still isn’t sure that he believes them about that. Because he’s had girlfriends that he hasn’t been that intimate with.

“Kusare-en.” Sam mutters. “Sounds about right.”

He almost waits for a response, until he realises that Clint is gone.

03/29

Sam wakes up. He clutches at his head. He feels… oddly hung over. But not sore, just sluggish. And the only thing that he can remember from last night is laughing with a girl who seemed really, really into him.

But there’s no way he was drinking last night. Absolutely no way. He didn’t drink. Ever. And today he was supposed to have a mission, a really important mission. And he would never-

He looks at the clock. It’s ten-thirty already. Sam scrambles to his feet and rushes to get dressed, stumbling from his apartment in a desperate daze. Can he still make it there in time?

As he races to his meeting he rushes past a television store where a small crowd of people are watching the news. “I told you.” He hears someone whisper. “There’s no such thing as a hero. They’re all just freaks in costume.”

He keeps running. He takes the first stairway down into the subway, and hops on a train. He’d normally drive, but there's something kind of off about his co-ordination and he doesn’t trust himself to. He clutches at his head in confusion. He doesn’t drink. So how is this possible? Is he having a stroke or something?

He looks briefly up at the wall of the train, where a tiny screen shows their progress through the stations. The newsreels scroll down the bottom of the screen. The one that’s currently scrolling says, ‘AIM Scientist killed by-‘

Sam rubs his eyes. He’s got a few more stops to go, and then a light 1k jog over to the building. Normally that would be a breeze, but today he’s got to psyche himself up for it or he may just puke his guts out.

He thinks carefully about what could have happened last night. How could he have possibly lost control of himself? He tried to remember the girl, tried to picture her face. She had dark hair, he remembers that. She had… come up and introduced herself to him? At the supermarket, maybe? But he can’t remember a name.

Sam worries gently at the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He remembers her silver rings, the shine of them in pale light. The way she laughed and whispered in his ear… ‘Hail Hydra’.

Sam draws in a sharp breath, his eyes widen, and he suddenly feels more awake than ever. She said… Hail Hydra?

He swallows and stands up. This… this is his stop. He’s gotta go. He’s got to make this mission. But something inside of him begs him not to go, for fear of what he may find when he arrives.

Nevertheless he steps out of the train. He walks, quickly and purposefully towards the building where he’s supposed to meet them. He doesn’t want to think about last night. This mission is really important and people are relying on him. He can’t let them down. He knows he isn’t brainwashed, because he remembers Barnes telling him that the brainwashing always gives you a headache. And he hasn’t got a headache.

He stops when he feels something cold on his neck. A SHIELD tactical squad surround him. Sam feels his heart sink into the ground at his feet.

“You’re under arrest.”

“For what?” Sam asks, as his hands are tied roughly behind his back.

“For murder.”

Sam is taken to a small room on the SHIELD base. It feels wrong to be on this side of that door. He lifts his head as Steve bursts into the room.

“Sam!” Steve wraps him up in a tight hug. “Don’t think for one second that I believe them! Not for one single second!”

Sam hugs Steve back without a word.

“Someone must have stolen your wingsuit. That’s the only explanation.” Steve says.

Sam nods. Although no one’s told him exactly what happened yet. All he’s sure of is that it wasn’t him.

“What about your alibi? Have you got one for last night? You must have one. You’ve got to be prepared.” Steve says worriedly, clutching Sam even tighter.

“Steve.” Sam says. “Last night… something happened. I don’t know. It was Hydra. Hydra did something… but… I can’t remember, Steve!”

Steve stiffens. “What did they do?”

“I don’t remember!” Sam insists. “But I think they drugged me!”

The look on Steve’s face is pained. He swallows and nods. Then he steps back. Sam starts to panic. Steve’s leaving already?

“Bucky wants to talk to you.” Steve says, and Sam looks at him in confusion. Barnes wants to talk to him? Barnes? Why would he?

“It’ll be ok, Sam.” Steve says, already backing away. “I promise, it’ll be okay.”

He shuts the door. And a few minutes later, Barnes opens it.

Sam stares at Barnes in confusion. To his frank relief Barnes doesn’t hug him like Steve. Instead he strides up to him and grabs him by the cheeks, first lifting up one eyelid, and then the other.

Sam struggles out of Barnes’ grip. “What’s that for.”

“I’m checking to see if they brainwashed you.” Barnes says. “And they didn’t.”

“Steve told you?” Sam asks. “About Hydra?”

Barnes frowns. “No. What about Hydra?”

“Something happened last night, and Hydra were involved. And I just… can’t…”

“Remember.” Barnes says.

“Yes.”

Barnes looks thoughtful.

“I’m going to say things now. Either nod or shake your head, for yes or no. If you don’t know, it’s no. Nod if you’re ready.”

Sam nods.

“Elizabeth.”

Sam shakes his head.

“Red.”

Sam shakes his head again.

“Silver.”

Sam nods. Barnes has no reaction.

“Pain.”

Sam shakes his head.

“Drugged?”

Sam nods.

Barnes bites his lip.

“You didn’t do it.” He says.

“I didn’t do it!” Sam repeats. He’s getting emotional, even though he’s trying very hard not to.

And all of a sudden, Barnes hugs him.

Sam’s thoughts become a confused whirlwind, as Barnes presses his lips to Sam’s ear.

“Tonight at one. I’ll be here. You be ready.” Barnes whispers. “You got that?”

Sam clutches Barnes back a little tighter in response.

“Good.” Barnes says, before pulling away.

03/30

The clock strikes one. Sam waits with bated breath for Barnes to walk through that door. And at one-twelve the door opens.

“Sorry I’m late.” Barnes grumbles. “Come on, quickly. Come with me.”

Sam follows him. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to run.” Barnes says, as they make their way through the familiar corridors of the SHIELD base.

Sam stops short. “Maybe I should go back. Maybe I shouldn’t run. This’ll just make things worse.”

Barnes turns around. “Hydra did this, Sam. And Hydra don’t leave loose ends. They don’t fight fair either, which means we can’t afford to do this on their terms.”

Something in Barnes’ eyes is deeply genuine, and Sam feels shocked to realise just how much he trusts him.

Soon, they pass a pair of passed out SHIELD agents as they go through a doorway.

“I’ve seen it before.” Barnes says quietly, as if he’s explaining himself for the knocked out SHIELD agents. “I’ve seen this before, and it never ends well. Hydra’s loose ends tend to end up dead.”

The drive is silent. And awkward. And not for the reasons Sam’s used to.

“Where’s Steve?” Sam asks.

Barnes tightens his hands on the steering wheel. “He’s not coming.” Then there’s a little pause. “It’s just me.”

There’s a burning question in the back of Sam’s mind. Why exactly is Barnes helping him?

Instead, he keeps his head down, and tries to focus on remembering. If he can remember exactly what happened to him, then maybe he’ll remember something important. Something worth remembering, maybe something that can clear his name. Or at least give him an idea of why this is happening.

“Do you know what happened? Why they brought you in?” Barnes asks.

“No.”

Barnes takes a breath. “There was a scientist amongst the AIM personnel we brought in, who claimed he had information that could bring Hydra to its knees. He was being transported to the Helicarrier for questioning when he and the agents moving him were attacked and killed by someone wearing your wingsuit. But obviously not you.”

Barnes taps a finger against the wheel.

“It was under cover of night and there were no survivors. The whole thing was filmed on a cell phone from a distance, and the face of the attacker was never visible at any time.”

“You’re sure it was my wingsuit? And if so, how could they have gotten ahold of it?”

“Yeah. I checked and it is gone.” Barnes says. “But that’s the problem. It could only be accessed by members of our team, plus Director Fury, Maria Hill and a few other high level agents, right? Unless someone got the codes some other way.”

“My biggest question in all of this, is why you?” Barnes says, his jaw tense. “I know Hydra. Actually better than I know myself. They could have picked a patsy that’d draw less attention. Someone lower down in SHIELD. Someone who isn’t as much in the public eye.”

“I don’t know.” Sam says. “I have no idea.”

Barnes nods. “Don’t rush yourself. Don’t try to remember all at once, or push yourself to think of a reason why. Just keep it in mind. It’ll come to you, eventually.”

Sam takes a deep breath and nods.

Barnes drives straight ahead. And Sam tries his best to fall asleep. He’d probably have to take over later, drive in shifts, so they can keep moving.

It occurs to Sam, as he’s drifting off, that this makes Barnes a fugitive too. That he’d just gone and given up everything, in the blink of an eye. They’d known each other a month and he’d given up everything.

Barnes had even left behind Steve. And Sam knew how close they were. Whatever they were to each other, be it lovers or something else, Barnes had just left it all behind for Sam. And Sam doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Sam finally falls into a restless sleep as Bucky drives along the highway. Bucky doesn’t notice. His eyes scan the road ahead carefully, watching out for suspicious vehicles. His gaze flickers to the dashboard clock and he bites his lip. He does a mental check of his weapons. One metal arm. Check. (Because it counts.) Three hidden-carry handguns. Check. Four machine guns in the trunk. Check. Knives strapped to his right arm, right shin, left thigh, right shoulder and lower back. Check. That last one in particular felt deeply uncomfortable against the car seat. He’d carried extra weapons into the SHIELD facility just in case he got caught, and so that he could hand those extras over to Sam once they were out of there.

He breathes in and breathes out again. He can do this. He knows he can do this. He can keep him safe. Those Hydra bastards will not touch his… his friend. Sam Wilson is his friend.

He counts one more. Not a weapon. His book, the one Sam had given him. It’d been brought with him and tossed into the glove box without giving it a thought. It was the only thing he’d brought with him that wasn’t either dangerous or food.

Bucky remembers the title and stifles a smile.

He’s helping a good man. And for once in the Winter Soldier’s life, he’s saving someone’s life instead of taking it away. More than that, he’s helping a friend.

Steve, he’s sure, would be proud.

Read the next chapter here:

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brizzlovesyou · 3 years

Note

Throwing an ask your way: what do you want from Miguel's arc next season?

I’d definitely like to see more focus on Miguel’s recovery. While it was nice to see him take down Kyler in the finale, I chalk a lot of that up to adrenaline. I think he still has a long way to go before he’s able to fight at the same caliber that he used to, if he ever will. This is a character who puts a lot of pressure on himself, and that’s going to be doubled once he learns how much is riding on the AVT. How does he continue to navigate his training when Johnny is (understandably) concerned about him getting hurt again? What’s his home life been like since returning from the hospital and going back to school? Are Carmen & Ya-Ya treating him with kid gloves?

And actually what I’d like to see even more than his physical recovery is his emotional recovery. There’s so much trauma to unpack for that kid. They showed Sam’s struggle with mental health (which I was glad for) but what about Miguel’s? As I mentioned on my post yesterday, the list of things Miguel lost due to his injury is long. How is he coping with all of that? A really big complaint that I still have about his S3 recovery arc is how much of it served as a catalyst to Johnny’s story. What was he going through in the quiet moments, when he didn’t have physio or training to focus on? How is he dealing with the fact that he almost died and the fact that for a while, it was extremely likely he’d never walk again? What was it like seeing Robby again and does the thought of facing him at the AVT stir up any PTSD?

Recovery aside, I’d like to see him have some fun. I imagine he’s going to get forced into a mediator role with the merged dojos (which hopefully provides a lot of entertainment in its own right) but I’d love to see him letting loose and having fun! The concert scene is S3 was one my favorites because he got to be carefree, just for a bit. He’s gone through this life-altering ordeal and I just want him to be able to be a kid again, for a few scenes at least. Idk why but I have this headcanon of the kids getting into paintball on the weekends. And since he was isolated from basically his entire friend group in S3, I’d like to see him enjoying those friendships again. Hopefully we get more fun training montages and I’d definitely like to see Miguel kick some ass at the AVT. And, of course, I want to see more of his friendship with Hawk shining through. It was hard having the boys apart for so much of last season.

#thanks for humoring me with this!!#i guess this turned into more of what i want to see him dealing with in s4 #as opposed to what his overall arc would be #for some reason i'm finding that really hard to conceptualize at the moment?#cobra kai #miguel diaz #ask #afurioushawk

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

Text

Unwrap Me (1.4k, Dean Winchester/Castiel, M)

ao3 link

Dean never thought he would make it this far. Nor would he have as many wonderful things that he has now. A home, friends, family, and most importantly love. With a former angel.

Given how normal his life is now, Dean decides he wants to go all out celebrating Christmas. Parties, feasts, and the perfect presents. He wants to get Cas something that will translate everything that resides in his heart. Dean believes he has the right gift, but decides against leading with it. Instead surprising Cas with it after showing him his Christmas best.

Although, during his entire time planning Cas's present, he never wondered what Cas got him...

Dean adjusts the ribbon wrapped around his waist, tastefully covering his half-hard cock with a large bow; its tails draped over his balls. Assured he looks perfect, Dean turns from the mirror. Texts Cas, letting him know his present is finally ready.

Cas ☀ (11:45 p.m.): Be there soon. Helping Sam with research.

“Sammy…” Sighing, Dean sets his phone down on the nightstand closest to his side. “Think you’d take even the smallest break today, since it’s Christmas.”

Almost Christmas, at least. In fifteen minutes. But before they exchange gifts with their family next morning, Dean and Cas discussed a more intimate setting where they can unwrap each other’s presents. Given how this is the first year they’ll celebrate Christmas as a couple, Dean wanted some privacy. Not solely because of his attire. The lacy ribbon smokescreen for Cas’s real present, safely tucked inside his drawers. And, if well received, his outfit will help perfectly transition into a holiday tradition Dean hopes last many years.

But, until Sam frees his boyfriend from work, he must wait. “What’s the point of being retired if we’re still cracking open lore?” Dean collapses onto the bed, disturbing scattered rose petals.

Seconds later, someone knocks at the door. “Dean?” Cas asks, voice muffled, “Is it okay for me to come in?”

Dean flew forward, cursing under breath. Then muttering prayers how Cas followed his instructions about knocking first. “Gimme a sec, Cas!” Dean tapped his phone, quickly finding the song he downloaded specifically for this moment. Orville Peck’s smooth baritone filtered through speakers he installed earlier, singing ‘Roses Are Falling’. Dean crawls towards the center of his mattress, sitting, cushioned by pillows. Scoops a few petals and peppering his legs with them. “Right!” he calls, stretching languidly, “You can come in!”

Cas enters, and suddenly Dean’s carefully perfected smolder is extinguished. He throws a hand across his face, hiding his wide grin. Snorts and ducks his head, gaze still trained on his boyfriend.

“Huh,” Cas says, “I guess great minds do think alike…”

Dean watches Cas’s hands fall, trench coat parting open like curtains. Reveals a similar ribbon covering his genitals. Though while Dean’s was red, Cas chose green. It matched his boots and novelty cowboy hat: both dyed the same color as Cas’s ribbon. “Yeah,” Dean chuckles while Peck continues his serenade, “I guess so.”

“I reckon so,” Cas corrects, drawl forcing a shiver up his spine. Visibly, judging Cas’s smug expression. Rolling his eyes, Dean climbs off the bed and advances.

“Close the door,” he tells Cas, “don’t want to give Sam the gift of trauma.” Then, standing inches from Cas, he amends his previous statement. “More trauma,” he smirks.

Cas shuts away the outside world, leaving only them. Dean guides Cas’s trench coat off his shoulders, tossing it aside when able. They tear away ribbon, both strips landing in a tangled mess at their feet. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, kissing him. “Merry Christmas,” he whispers.

Grip firm along Dean’s hip, Cas guides Dean closer. Chests pressed together, hearts beating the same song. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Playing with the hairs at Cas’s nape, Dean breathes a confession against his neck. “I have another present for you.”

“You do?” Cas’s fingers tease at his hole, searching, “It doesn’t feel like you do…”

“Dog.” Dean shoves him off, laughing. “Is sex all you have on your brain?”

“Forgive me, Dean, but when the most gorgeous man in the entire universe is in my arms – naked – my body succumbs to its most base instincts.” He squeezes at his stiff cock, smirking. “See?”

Blushing, Dean ignores Cas’s attempts at baiting him. Knocks his hat off with a pointed flick. “Lose the boots, cowboy, and go lay down.”

Cas obeys, trailing behind him. “I thought you said sex wasn’t your gift?”

“Are you even curious about what I have?” Dean asks, hovering by his nightstand, “Because I can sit on your dick right now and I can put your real present away for your birthday.” Expression schooled into strenuous thought, he continues, “When is that again?”

“Okay, okay, I get it…” Cas lies on his side, blue eyes shining with mirth. Like the ocean glittering from the rising sun. “I’ll be quiet, starting… now.”

Dean sighs, doubtful Cas will keep that promise, but rummages through his drawers for Cas’s present regardless. He finds it well hidden, covered by an old car magazine he saved. Clutching it in his palm, Dean joins Cas. Kneels beside him, excitement wreaking havoc with his nerves. Bouncing, shoulders raised high, neck disappearing, and cheeks straining from his smile, Dean holds a fist out to an expectant Cas.

“Cas,” he begins, “I – uh… well, I know we only started dating pretty recently, but I’ve loved you way, way longer than that.”

“I know,” Cas interrupts, sliding his hand under Dean’s chin, cupping it. “You explained so after Jack plucked me from the Empty, right after punching me for making another ‘idiotic deal’, your words… and before our first kiss.” Dean’s joyful spirit flickers, glare piercing. Cas responds with apologetic crinkles, “You’re right… you’re right… quiet now.”

“Anyway,” Dean continues, “it might seem like we did this all ass-backwards, but I could care less how we got here since here means you and I, together. We get to do whatever we want with the rest of our lives and… there’s no one I’d rather have at my side. In my passenger seat, or – when I’m tired, and need to lay my weary head to rest – on the wheel.” His fingers unfurl like spring flowers, a silver key nestled in his palm. Cas gasps, stare darting between it and Dean. “It’s not a ring,” he says, “because what’s the point in those if we’re legally dead. Besides, we’ve spent so many years running around in circles… never saying what we should have… I’d hate for that to be the symbol of our relationship. This, though, I… Baby’s mine. But –“

“But you want her to be ours?” Cas finishes, forefinger gently stroking the key. He freezes, wincing at Dean, “Sorry, I did it again.”

Dean relaxes, handing Cas’s key over. “Nah, I was pretty much done, anyhow.”

Cas accepts his gift, then launches himself forward. Kisses Dean passionately, embrace drawn long enough that when they break both men pant. “This makes my gift look worse, by comparison, you realize,” he says, squinting, “you thoughtful, romantic bastard. Making me look like a tool.”

“Hey, I happen to like what you got me,” Dean laughs, smoothing stray hairs from Cas’s temple. His other hand trails lower, brushing his boyfriend’s pubic patch. “Exactly what I’ve been craving.”

Cas noses at Dean’s cheek, growling. “Oh, has it?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’, scratching Cas’s scalp while stubble scrapes freckled skin. “Think maybe I can get a taste of your candy cane, sunshine?”

Laying a hand on Dean’s hand closest to his dick, Cas surprises him by removing it. “Maybe later.”

“Later?”

“I’d rather go for a drive,” he suggests, brandishing his new key, “wouldn’t that sound like a nice Christmas treat?”

“Driving? Now?” Dean splutters, objections loaded like bullets in a gun. However, Cas tilts the argument in his favor, blue eyes wide and soft as if he were a puppy. A dirty trick played during battles Cas knew he would lose. Dean’s defenses crumbled, those bullets clattering on the floor. “I… guess we can. Never too early to get you and Baby better acquainted.” He rises, mournful, “Guess I better find some pants –“

Cas grabs his wrist, stopping him. “No, Dean,” he says, “there’s no time!” He drags Dean out, ignoring all Dean’s squawked protests. Orville’s voice echoing, phone abandoned in their haste. “We have to drive like this!” he insists.

“Naked?” Dean hisses, glancing around in case they run across wandering house guests. Any of their extended family Dean stupidly invited to celebrate Christmas with them. “Seriously Cas, why wouldn’t you let me put clothes on? It’s December, it’ll be freezing on the road!”

Cas pauses at the bend of a corner, frowning. “I doubt it’ll be that cold,” he says. Then, feigned innocence fades into a leer. “If it is, I’m sure we can find ways to stay warm inside Baby. Maybe even fog up her windows…?”

“A dog,” Dean shakes his head, cheeks ruddy with restrained laughter. “A no-good, conniving hound!” Stomping ahead of him, Dean leads Cas elsewhere. “I know a quicker way to the garage.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#supernatural #spn #spn canon fix-it #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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spnwatch · 3 years

Text

Season 2: The Rankings

Whew. Oh boy.

They were still puttering about in season 1 to an extent. But now? Now they’ve really hit their stride. This season was a veritable chocolate box of delights and I ate my way through it. The overall myth arc was kind of nonsensical, but that emotional throughline? Christ. Spn buries SO MUCH emotional complexity into its leads, and they cashed in every cent in that two part finale. It packs one hell of a punch. And yeah, okay, I knew the broad strokes, the twists and turns. It’s hard not to be spoilered for a season of tv that aired over a decade ago. But reader! It mattered not!! I. Still. Wept. That’s when you know it’s the good kush. 1.) 2x12: NIGHTSHIFTER. This one just snagged the top spot by merit of its sheer ambition. Supernatural often feels like a very empty universe to me, just two guys and one car drifting from place to place. Which is fine, it makes for compelling TV, but they totally flipped the script here and this episode really dazzles precisely because of that contrast. It’s a huge, cinematic episode, a metropolitan setting full of uncontrollable elements, and it’s great to see Sam and Dean so profoundly vulnerable. The outside world is pressing up against the windows. They have sniper dots trained on them! They are, literally and figuratively, out of their depth! We’re not in Kansas any more, baby. God, I haven’t even mentioned the supporting characters. The entire mandroid rant deserves an Emmy. Victor Henrickson’s entrance! Heist movie antics! Agh! 10/10

2.) 2x07: THE USUAL SUSPECTS. Again this episode was a cut above precisely because it showed us what the brothers look like from the outside: sketchy as all hell. It’s so good when reality ensures, because it’s great to be reminded they lead objectively insane lives! Through Linda Blair’s eyes we get to see just how unknowable, feral and amoral they appear to the eyes of polite society. Put under a microscope like this, they’re scary guys! They’re just not socialised like normal people. They don’t really care about being arrested, or about the felonies. Getting arrested is an irritant above everything else. They’re still working the case from the inside. They’re professionals; excellent liars, and totally in sync with each other. The handwritten notes they pass, like delinquent school kids! A delight! The thrill lies in watching Blair slowly unwrap their strange logic, and unravel the mystery of both the brothers and the ghost. Ugh, what a great perspective shift. I’m 100% here for it. 10/10

3.) 2x09: CROATOAN. Ugh, this setting. Small Town Gothic, complete with eerie mist, hostile locals and creepy Stepford vibes. Sam really shone in this episode. He’s so soothing and giant, and it made his suffering at the end all the more devastaing. The real reason this episode ranks so highly is their conversation in the surgery. It just killed me. Dean’s sheer, bone-deep exhaustion, his admission that he’s tired of the life. Sam’s despair, because he knows Dean won’t leave. The performances were so steller. I can’t even really think too deeply about it because it makes me too crazy. 10/10

4.) 2x21: ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE: PART ONE. I loved this finale so much more than the finale in Season 1, LOL. It might just be because I’m more invested now, who knows. The opening of this episode is a piece of art: Boston playing on the car stereo, the rain, the small cafe, the lighting. Gorgeous. I love when they have to interact with ordinary people! It adds so much: texture, humour, personality! It draws things out of Sam and Dean that we just don’t see when they have each other to bounce off of. It was so good to see Ava and Andy again. “I just woke up in freakin’ Frontierland!” The gang’s all here, folks! This episode would rank higher, but recieves minus points for the long boring speech the demon gives Sam, and killing off the first gay in the show 0.2 seconds after her introduction. Anyway. The ending of course unzipped me; Dean cradling Sam’s dead body, muttering “It’s okay, it’s not even that bad.” The elation of their reunion, so devastaingly cut short! Sam, twenty two years old, bleeding out in the mud. The sheer, hopelessness of it all. The horror. My notes for the end of the episode simply read: “Dean oh Christ. Oh my God. Oh no.” It’s just one of those scenes that stay with you long after the credits start rolling. 9/10

5.) 2x20: WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE. I never thought I could be so profoundly upset by watching a man happily mowing a lawn. Dean’s trauma over the loss of his mother has undercut the whole show up until this point, and here it bursts to the fore. What really got me was the simplicity of it all. Just a sit-down dinner, an engagement. A beer on the porch. Fuck, he deserves it. He deserves everything. All the performances were great, they really served to show there’s a whole life in these AU characters. The fact it wasn’t all perfect was bizarrely more devastating. AU Sam’s weird straight hair and dorky jacket sealed the deal for me, as did his baffled terror in the warehouse. But even here, with no training and no idea what’s happening, he gets into the Impala! Because that’s his brother! Because I’m a huge baby I had to remove points because of how upsetting I found Sam’s quiet hostility towards Dean, HA. But that’s really just a testament to how well-realised their dynamic has become by the second season. 9/10

6.) 2x15: TALL TALES. Every single thing Sam does in any of Dean’s memories. Also alien slowdance set to “Lady in Red.” Also Bobby breaking them up like they’re petulant children. Gold, all of it gold. 9/10

7.) 2x11: PLAYTHINGS. So I’m a slut for a cool setting, obviously. Turns out, Supernatural did The Haunting of Bly Manor fifteen years ago. The swimming pool! The attic! Creepy dolls! The weird little playground! This episode has it all! I loved the saga between the ghost sister and the old lady, which would honestly make a killer movie in its own right. But I’m digressing. The main star of this episode was, of course, Dean’s profound and escalating sexual insecurities. “Well, you are kinda butch. People probably think you’re overcompensating.” FATALITY. I would’ve placed this one higher but the weird incestuous undertones kinda squicked me out... however, I did think we were meant to be creeped out by it, which is more than I can say for some other uh. Instances. It was, after all, beautifully paralelled at the end with the two sisters reuniting in death. “I can’t leave here, and you can’t leave me.” SHUDDER. Also, honestly, can Sam have one (1) breakdown on his own without Dean’s own emotional baggage taking over? Older siblings, smh. 9/10

8.) 2x22: ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE: PART TWO. This one ranks lower than part one purely because I thought the yellow-eyed demon’s overall plot was kinda nonsensical, and I cared not for John’s weird deux ex machina moment. Like do you expect me to feel sorry for that bitch? I don’t! Anyway, that being said, let’s move on to Dean’s eyes in the junkyard when Bobby asks him, “do you have that low an opinion of yourself?” They’re so flat. So dead, like a shark’s. He doesn’t need to say anything back, because it’s all over his face. That non-expression says it all. This is the culmination of the emotional arc that began with his savage beatdown of the Impala in episode 2x02. To call it survivor’s guilt wouldn’t even begin to cover what Dean goes through this episode. It’s all in Ackles’ performance; in the the way he yells, “What am I supposed to do now, Sammy?” The complete claustrophobia of it all. There’s nothing for it but to make the deal. Dean’s been moving inexorably towards this moment for the entire season. 9/10

9.) 2x13: HOUSES OF THE HOLY. What a kooky little episode! Magic fingers! Sam’s costcutter seance purchases! The scooby-doo placemat he uses as a makeshift altar! I love him, your honour. Obviously this episode has a lot of *~dramatic irony~* in it because of the later seasons, but it stands alone as a total banger. I was so gutted for Sam when the "angel” was revealed. So many good little Sam moments to be found in this episode. His soft, quiet little revelation that he prays every day. His awkward, earnest explanation to the horrified priest! Dean gets some great moments chasing down the would-be rapist down those dark, snow-covered streets. His speech to Sam where he explains his lack of belief is brief, but it’s a total gut punch. Rounding it off with Knockin on Heaven’s Door was just the cherry on top. 9/10

10.) 2x14: BORN UNDER A BAD SIGN. Ahaha I love the way Dean acts whenever Sam’s psychic powers come up. He treats him like a rebellious teen, it’s so funny. “What’s going on with you, Sam? Smokin’, drinkin’?” As if Sam’s behaviour was a) at all under his control or b) anything Dean wouldn’t HIMSELF do. Dean’s just like, this isn’t how I raised you! Truly hysterical. The whole sequence between Meg!Sam and Jo was fantastic and horrible. Sam’s huge physique is never threatening, but it really was in that moment. The interplay between them was totally spine-tingling. Meg’s impression Sam slowly crumbling away over the course of the episode was so compelling and I’m sure it will be a really fun rewatch now I know the *twist*. 9/10

Favourite lines this season:

The way Sam says “black cat’s bone” in 2x08

“You’re not gonna go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?!” - Dean, 2x13

“Dean, this is a very serious investigation, we don’t have time for your blah blah blah blah.” - Sam (according to Dean), 2x15

“I’m fine, except for every single thing that’s happening.” - Ava, 2x21

#I feel like I'm exposing myself as a sam girl here #I love them equally I swear #supernatural #there's so much i left out like my comprehensive love for JO #what does she have? A KNIFE #I just didn't really dig NO EXIT as an episode sadly #spnwatch

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