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#let sam grieve his lost friend
glorystark · 13 days
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Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.
Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death
Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader
Featuring: Sam Winchester
Word count: 2,3k
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We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.
“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.
“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.
“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.
“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.
“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.
“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”
“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.
“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”
“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.
“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.
“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”
“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.
“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”
I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.
I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.
Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.
—————
It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.
He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.
“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”
He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.
“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.
“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.
“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.
He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”
“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.
“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.
"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.
“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”
That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.
“Y-you love me, you said that before.”
“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.
My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.
“Dean, please-“
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.
Then I heard a buzz from my phone.
New message from Sammy:
“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”
He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.
Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?
I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.
—————
I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.
Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.
A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.
So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.
Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.
I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-
I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…
Dean Winchester’s Pov:
No no no.
This can't be happening.
It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.
I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.
It's a nightmare happening in real life.
Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.
I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.
There is so much blood everywhere.
Her blood.
This is hell.
No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.
I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.
I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”
She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.
She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.
All my fault.
All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.
As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."
And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…
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imtryingbuck · 1 month
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Forty
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.
Word count: 3,748
Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. fluff. swearing. death. mentions of domestic abuse and child abuse.
A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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When she was released from the hospital, Jamie was a month old. She was released two days before Georgias fifth birthday which made the little girl happy, she finally had her mommy back at home with her.
Her birthday party was magical, Y/n was a tiny little bit jealous if she was honest. The bouncy castle, the face painting station that Wanda was manning, the fairy lights set up all around the backyard that Bucky and Sam put up. There was even a costume station for all the kids to play dress up that Nat had brought with her. It was something that she would have loved when she was younger.
Georgia made Y/n put on fairy wings so they could be fairies together, she tried to put on a pirate hat on her baby brother but because it was too big for his tiny head it kept falling off making the five year old giggle.
All the children that came enjoyed it, so did some of the parents.
Georgia had truly been spoiled.
Three months after Jamie turned two years old they were at George’s and Winnie’s house having Sunday dinner, Jamie was in his granddads arms giggling to the funny voices George was talking to him in when all of a sudden George handed Winnie their grandson and started to clutch his chest.
By the time the ambulance arrived it was too late.
George had died of a heart attack.
The turn out to his funeral was huge, family friends and strangers had gathered to celebrate the life of the greatest man anyone had the pleasure of meeting.
Y/n held Bucky late at night when he cried. Her tears dropping on his fluffy hair as she did.
George Barnes was an incredible husband, father, grandfather and friend to all. He was deeply missed.
Then tragedy struck again, a year later on the very date of George’s passing. Winnie took her last breath.
It was Y/n who had found her, the family arrived at the house to have dinner and to release balloons for George. Bucky had let them all in with his key finding it odd that his ma wasn’t already waiting for them. Y/n said she would check upstairs, she knocked on the door to the spare bedroom that Winnie had moved into, not wanting to sleep in the same bed she shared with her husband. Getting no response she opened the door but found the bed empty, still till this day she doesn’t know why but she went to the master bedroom and that’s where she found her surrogate mom, her mother in law.
Winnie had passed away in her sleep.
Bucky struggled with the death of his ma, he snapped at everyone, pushed his wife, children and friends away. And at first Y/n allowed it as he was grieving but when he shouted at Jamie when he tried to show his dad the drawing he had made, making the three year old cry and stumble backwards. That was it. She snapped at Bucky, she told him she knew what he was going through but there was no need to make their son cry which had Bucky shouting that Maria wasn’t even her real mom, as soon as those words left his mouth he slammed his lips shut. Regret already evident in his eyes, an apology on the tip of his tongue but it was too late. She told him to get out of the house.
Both of them thought that because this was their first serious argument that they were going to have to get divorce. A thought that terrified the both.
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Y/n never knew how to ride a horse before until she was twenty eight, Bucky paid for horse riding lessons which were… amusing to everyone other than Y/n. She lost count of how many times she fell off the god damn animal, or how many times Lolly the mare just wouldn’t listen to her commands finding eating the grass more better than listening to the woman sat on her back.
Bucky kept his promise that he made when he was just eleven years old. He proudly brought her a horse that she named Squid. Squid was gorgeous in every sense of the word truly he was.
*eight years ago*
“Bun can you remember what you asked Santa to get you for Christmas when you was eleven?”
“Of course. I asked for a pony, told him I didn’t care what colour or gender it was and I promised I’d look after it forever but I told you after that I wanted a horsey instead, why?”
Chuckling as she remembered exactly what she wrote down on her Christmas list he took her hand and walked down the street, ignoring her questions about what was happening. “I promised you that I would get you a pony, didn’t I? Well go over to that stable and meet your new friend” Bucky gestured to where a woman was standing smiling.
Giving her a slight push when she wouldn’t move, her eyes wide and head turning to face the woman and back to Bucky. With his gentle push she walked over to where the woman stood. Inside the stable laid a gorgeous brown and white spotted body of a pony.
“You didn’t? Ducky! Yo-you got me a pony?” She cried not taking her eyes off her fury new friend.
“Well it’s not a pony but a horse because I knew you wanted one instead, but I can always get you a po-“ Bucky get cut off when Y/n jumps into his arms and starts kissing him all over his face.
“I love it! I love you! Thank you Ducky”
*present time*
Eight years later Squid and his wife Penelope - another horse Bucky brought her and yes Y/n married them - were in their stable together as Penelope was giving birth. “Ducky! Ducky quick it’s happening!”
“Bunny baby I don’t want to see it!”
“Don’t be rude come on, oh-it’s-oh that’s a bit gross-I mean it’s beautiful Duck” Bucky stood on the other side of the stable wall rolling his eyes as Y/n gags yet trying to tell him what was happening was beautiful.
A few minutes later Y/n came out of the stable with tears in her eyes. Bucky’s heart dropped thinking something was wrong. “It’s a girl Duck, a beautiful baby girl”
“What are you naming her?” Bucky asked wrapping his arms around his wife looking at mom and dad cleaning their baby up.
“Would you be mad if I named her Duck?”
“After me?”
“Well yeah, you were the one that said Loopy was pregnant in the first place so…would you?”
“Not at all crazy woman”
Watching the love of his life excited to meet the foal Bucky knew that he had done amazing when he surprised her all those years ago with Squid.
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Y/n didn’t think that she would be nearing forty years old with two one year olds, a five year old and a ten year old but that’s what she was doing.
She found out she was pregnant once again and because she was older she was more nervous about the pregnancy than she was when she was pregnant with Georgia.
When the nurse told them that there was two heart beats Bucky was ecstatic, of course he was he wasn’t the one that was going to be giving birth to them.
Two healthy baby boys were born three days before Y/n’s birthday.
Stevie Thomas Barnes and Sammy William Barnes.
Steve and Sam burst out crying when they heard the names of their nephews.
“Bunny?”
“In the twins room”
Hearing the heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs she watched the boys as they slept. Smiling when she felt Bucky’s arms wrap themselves around her waist.
“You being a perv again?” Bucky asked her as he placed a kiss to her temple.
“Obviously. Are the kids with Tony?”
“Yeah, you should have seen Jamie when he saw Peter. He ran straight over to him and his girlfriend and jumped straight on Peters head”
Laughing at the image of her five year old jumping on his cousins head “He is his favourite cousin, you know this”
Peter was a teenager that Tony had saved from the streets, he and Pepper found out that the boy didn’t have any family left after his aunt had passed away. They adopted him which Peter was happy and shocked about. He was such a lovely kid, perfect with the kids especially Jamie.
“Little man’s never subtle with letting everyone know who’s his favourite is, is he?”
“Nope never”
“So…are you ready to be turning forty?”
He knew for a fact she wasn’t.
“Forty? Don’t you mean thirty?”
“Nope Bunny you’re getting so old no-ow-your old now-ow Bun, baby stop elbowing me”
“Stop calling me old then”
“But it’s the tru-“
“Your forty one so shut up”
“I know” he sighs dramatically “I’m so old, I think you need to change my dipper”
“Your an idiot”
“Ah yes but I’m your idiot.”
Nodding at his statement they left the sleeping babies alone.
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Y/n knew that Bucky had been up to something for months but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. His office doors were locked which was something that he had never done before.
He would get phone calls and always took them outside, at first she thought he was having an affair but shook that idea away out of her mind. She trusted him with her life.
On the day of her birthday she woke up to Georgia and Jamie bouncing on her bed screaming ‘happy birthday’. Bucky handed her the twins as she sat up and left the room with Georgia, coming back five minutes later Bucky holding a tray containing her breakfast and a fresh hot cup of tea, and Georgia dragging in a big bag behind her before she let go of the handles and ran back out, when she returned she had five huge bouquet of flowers in her arms.
“Happy birthday mommy these are for you” Georgia shoved all the flowers into Y/n’s face.
“One from each of our little rugrats and one from your very handsome Ducky” Bucky told her as he set the vases out, already filled with water. She didn’t even notice that they were there.
“Thank you my precious babies and thank you my very handsome Ducky” giving him a kiss both Georgia and Jamie saying ‘ew’ in the background.
The second she finished her last bite of food Georgia was putting presents in her hands. Each present she loved, they were all from her children.
Only one present from Bucky. A gorgeous diamond necklace.
After the presents were opened and the wrapping paper was binned she was told that she needed to have a shower and get dressed, Bucky told her that they had a day planned for her.
Three hours later cleaned and dressed Y/n went down the stairs finding it suspicious that it was noticeably quiet.
“Duck?”
“Living room my love”
“Where are the kids?”
“Nat and Bruce came to kidnap them. Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“Daily” she smiled. Bucky took her hands in his and started dancing with her. “There’s no music Buck”
“Never needed music to dance with you my love, god I truly am the luckiest man in the world to have you in my arms. And I swear you get more and more beautiful as time goes on”
“Until you see the scars and stretch marks and I’m hid-“
“Don’t even think about finishing that word Bun I swear to god!” His voice dropped low, hating how she thinks that about herself when he’s always found her beautiful inside and out, scars and stretch marks, his wife, his Bunny was the most prettiest woman in the world. “Baby you are stunning”
“I love you James Buchanan Barnes more and more everyday”
“And I love you Y/n M/n Barnes more and more everyday”
Kissing each other passionately and deeply as they continued to dance together it was Bucky who pulled away first. “Come on my Bunny we’ve got places to be”
“Where are we going?”
“That my secret that you have to try and find out”
Bucky helped Y/n in to the car once she was settled in he got himself situated behind the wheel, he pulled out of the driveway once the gate opened the moment he was on the road he took her hand in his. Just like always.
The familiar street of where George and Winnie’s former home sits came into view, Y/n looked over at Bucky noticing that he had a small smile on his face. Her heart ached when she saw a moving van parked in the driveway of her parents in laws home, Bucky and Rebecca had decided to sell their childhood home, their way of moving on and they knew that their parents would have wanted a new family to make happy memories just as they did.
The new owners were husband and wife with two children, a boy and a girl.
“Buck?”
“Hold on pretty girl”
He drove up the same side road that he took her up on their first date. However it was a lot different now that the very large piece of land had the trees cut down by the state, they had plans to build on the land but with the lack of funding it never happened.
If she squinted in the distance she could see the ruined remains of her childhood home.
“Ducky this is private property…”
“I know, but I won’t tell if you don’t” she rolls her eyes as he winks, he notices and laughs.
“But we’re going to get into trou-“ the words die on her tongue when she sees balloons, tables and her family standing there with huge smiles on their faces.
“Happy birthday my love”
“Du-Ducky this is…”
Getting out of the car shakily with the help from Bucky she laughs when Georgia and Jamie along with her nieces and nephews come running over screaming ‘surprise’.
“Happy birthday angel” Howard says giving her a hug and a kiss on her cheek.
Everyone wishes her a happy birthday, presents were opened and she thanked every single one of them, protesting when she opened checks containing quite a substantial amount of money, they just smiled at her.
Nat handed Sammy over to his uncle Sam and ran over to her car with Bruce returning with a huge cake. Y/n laughed when she saw the candles. Thirty.
They sang happy birthday with the children running around clapping and cheering when she blew the candles out. Music started playing and everyone started dancing, laughing at each other’s dance moves. Y/n was dancing along with Nat, Wanda and Peggy gasping loudly and grabbing Wanda’s arm when she saw Billy dancing with Georgia, her shy little Billiam leant in and kissed Georgia on her cheek. Both of them blushing violently.
“Oh. My. God. Y/n it’s happening!” Wanda squealed as quiet as she could.
“I can’t believe he ran off afterwards” Y/n laughed.
“That’s what Vis did after he kissed me for the first time” Wanda shrugged.
A few minutes later Y/n went off to find Billy, finding him kicking a stone near the pond. Sneaking up on him she made him scream.
“Auntie Y/n!”
“Gotcha monkey”
“You scared me”
“I would say sorry if I was but I’m not so” sticking her tongue out at him after he does it first.
Billy sat down and looked up at his favourite aunt, patting the ground next to him Y/n made him laugh as she bowed to him. He always thought she was weird but that was just his auntie and he loved her.
“What brings you over here Billy Bob?”
“It’s nice over here. I like it”
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Nodding excitedly at the prospect of being in on a secret he watched her pick up a twig off the ground and start to drag it through the dried mud.
“I use to come here all the time when I was a kid, it was my safe haven”
“Really?”
“Yeah” smiling at the memories of spending the majority of her childhood at that very same spot. “I met uncle Bucky in the woods when I was six and I brought him here to this very pond”
“Did you live in the woods?”
Laughing she shook her head “no, I-I use to live over there” she points in the direction of her former home.
“Why did you come here? Wasn’t your parents worried? Mom and dad always gets worried when I go down to the lake near home”
“That’s just because they care about you Bill, they worry incase you get hurt and they aren’t there to help you”
Billy wasn’t stupid, he knew she had avoided his questions so he asked again.
“Well…my real father was very mean and my mama was always working, she never knew that I came here”
“Why was he mean?”
“I don’t know, I always wondered that too”
“D-did he hurt you?”
“He did, badly” his eyes went down to his hands and started to twist his fingers, she noticed straight away. “Billy look at me, come on let me see that handsome face of yours-there it is-I’m okay now, grandad George and Howard and grandma Winnie and Maria saved me. And I’ve never been hurt since”
“B-but why would he hurt you? You was a child like me and my mom and dad don’t hurt me, you and uncle Bucky don’t hurt Georgia or Jamie or the twins so why did he do it to you? It’s not fair”
Her heart squeezed at the fact that an eleven year old could tell that it wasn’t fair for a child to be subjected to abuse by a parent. Like he said she was a child just like he was and he couldn’t understand why it happened. Neither did she.
“Because some people can be very mean and can’t tell the difference between right and wrong, your mom and dad are good people Billy and they would never hurt you because they love you so so so much. And for Bucky and I, we couldn’t never hurt our children no matter what because we love them.“
“I’m not mean am I?”
“You? Oh god no Billiam, you are the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing”
“I’m scary though”
“Oh the scariest!” Laughing with him when they both knew what they had just said was a lie.
“Auntie Y/n c-can I tell you something?”
“Of course you can monkey”
“I-I-I kissed Georgia”
“You did?”
“Yes on her cheek” he confessed, smiling shyly.
“Do you like Georgia?”
“I do, she’s so pretty”
“She is isn’t she?”
“Yeah. D-do you think she l-likes me back?”
“I’m not sure monkey, she’d be stupid if she didn’t”
“Bunny? Ah I found you. You kidnap my wife Billy?”
“I guess”
Laughing at his reply Billy stood up and held his hand out for Y/n to help her stand. Ever the little gentleman.
“Come on Bun, we’ve got one more present for you. Come on Bill” Hand in hand with his wife and godson he leads them to where everyone was waiting. “So Bun, your last present comes from both me and your dad”
Howard steps forward leaning heavily on his walking cane in one hand and in the other hand was an envelope. Handing it to his daughter he smiled. “Open it angel”
Doing as her dad told her to do she opened the envelope and pulled out the papers now in her hand. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion she looks up at Bucky and Howard.
“I-wha-I don’t get it…”
“Me and your dad brought the land-“
“No I get that but why?”
“You remember a few years back when we was talking and you said that you’ve been wanting to open up a safe haven for women who suffer from domestic abuse and children who are abused?”
“Yeah…it was-wait do you remember that?”
“Of course I do Bun. When we heard that this area was being destroyed to build houses which obviously never happened, I told your dad about your dream. So we brought the land. We already have builders and contractors at the ready, they’re just waiting on you to give the go ahead”
“I-I-really?”
“Yes angel, everyone’s been working secretly for three years-“
“Three frigging years!”
“Yes” Howard laughs “been getting things that you’re going to need, furniture, clothes, things that will be needed”
“Three years?” Everyone laughs as she asks how long again, they’d been keeping a huge secret from her for so long and she didn’t even know.
“So…Bunny what do you say? Are you going to give the go ahead on creating a safe haven for women and children?”
“Yes! Frigging sugarplum yes!”
Even at forty years old she still refuses to swear.
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“Buck they don’t have any floor plans and they don’t know what I want and they-oh my god it’s not going to work Ducky! Money…do we have enough money to do this whilst having four children and a house and what about materials? We don’t have-“
“Bunny calm down! Baby look at me, everything is fine. I found your drawings on how you wanted it to look, if you want to change it that’s okay as they’ve got to do the ground first. And knock down the hous-“
“I want to do that. Please Ducky”
“Then it’s done”
“Really? And money and materials Bucky it’s not going to work”
“Really. Y/n it is. We have enough money, more than enough and all the materials are already ready to be used. It’s going to work baby I promise”
For the past five years Bucky watched as his wife’s spark lessened as the months went by, it crushed him. If having to lie in bed next to the greatest love of his life listening to her ramble about the plans she has and showing him her designs at five past one in the morning than that’s what he’s going to do and do it with a smile on his face. For the first time in five years his Bunny has that spark back in her eyes, the very same he fell in love with all those years ago.
<Previous   Next>
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crazyunsexycool · 5 months
Text
Between the pages of a journal
Pairing: Stucky x 40s!Reader
Summary: You had been in a relationship with Steve and Bucky up until the time they went off to war only to lose them both. Years later when Steve and Bucky have reunited the receive the letters and journals you had written. Through them they learn about your life without them.
word count: 6.0k
Warnings: character death, the blip/snap, implied domestic violence, major angst, some fluff... let me know if I forgot something.
A/N: Not really sure how I feel about the ending but over all I loved writing this and I hope you like it too.
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Steve stood with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands as he looked down at the slightly dirty headstone. One that sat towards the back of the small cemetery with your name on it. His fingers trace over your name after placing the flowers down. The date of your death mocks him. It was the day he woke up. The day that he had come back to life was the day yours had ended. In fact the difference had only been a few hours from the time that you closed your eyes for the last time and the time he opened his. 
On good days Steve was grateful for that. You didn’t have to watch him walk back into your life looking as he did all those years ago while you were stuck in a bed, withering away. Wishing you had been able to live the life they had both promised you. On bad days he hated he didn’t get to say goodbye. But he had already been through the process of seeing someone he loved die when Bucky fell off the train. He wasn’t sure he would be able to do that with you. It had been you who begged him not to go. The fear in your eyes when Bucky got his orders still haunts him and it doubled when he told you he had been accepted. Now all that Steve has is the headstone with your name on it to grieve for both of his greatest loves. And he did it often.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope. 
Something Steve hadn’t felt in a long time. It bloomed in his chest the longer he looked at his long lost love. But just as quickly it faded.
“Bucky?” Steve stood in the middle of the street. Chaos erupting all around as he looked at the brunette with confusion and concern. 
“Who the hell is Bucky?” 
Just as quickly as he was there, Bucky was gone. Steve tried to look for him but there was no use. He had been arrested along with Nat and Sam. 
If there was one single word to describe Steve Rogers at the moment it would be determined. As much as it hurt that his oldest friend and lover didn’t recognize him. Steve knew he had to save Bucky. If not for him than for you. It was one of the promises he made to you the morning he left. He would keep Bucky safe and they would come back home to you. At least now he could keep half of the promise. 
The next time Steve would see Bucky it would be in a helicarrier. Blow by blow Steve tried to remind Bucky of who he was, what they meant to each other. In the end Bucky walked away after saving Steve. Still it was better knowing he was out and free than knowing that he was still under hydra’s control. 
It would take some time but eventually Steve would find Bucky once again. With time and help, Bucky was free of hydra’s control and they slowly rebuilt their relationship. Soon Bucky began to remember you as well. 
Now Steve didn’t feel so lost or so alone. The ache of loss was still there but it was made easier when he was able to turn in bed and find Bucky asleep next to him. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There were many things Bucky and Steve needed to adjust to in the modern times they were now living in. Being able to love each other without fear of being persecuted was a liberating experience. So they found themselves walking hand in hand on a beautiful Saturday afternoon through a small park in Brooklyn. The same park that the three of you frequented when you didn’t have anywhere else to go. 
You always packed a picnic and your journal, Bucky always had a new book to read out loud and Steve always had his sketchbook and pencils. There was one specific tree the three of you preferred to sit under. It was close to a small pond with the best shade and it was surrounded by bushes which afforded you the privacy the three of you craved.
 While to the outside world it looked like you were being chaperoned by Steve while on a date with Bucky, the reality was that you were dating them both. This little corner of the park allowed the three of you to be free to love, touch and kiss each other as you wished. 
It was this tree that provided cover for the three of you so long ago that Steve and Bucky came to look for now. Where Bucky carved your initials in the trunk within a heart. They hoped the tree was still there and they were gladly surprised that it was, initials included. The only difference though was the fact that there was a wrought iron bench in the once cleared space. Steve and Bucky make their way over.
“Y/N, would have loved to have a bench here.” Steve commented as he sat down. 
Bucky hummed in agreement as he inspected the small plaque screwed into the armrest. 
“Steve, look at this.” 
The blond leans over to look at the inscription. His breath catches in his throat.
‘Til the end of the line. 
A couple of tears hit the small plaque. Steve’s chin rests on Bucky’s shoulder and his arm wraps around the latter’s waist. They both just take a moment to look at it and appreciate that you had taken time and money to have this placed here in their honor. It felt like fate mocked them now that it was them that used this bench to remember you. For the remainder of their time in that park Steve and Bucky talk about their past, especially about you. 
“Remember when she chased Tommy Phillips down the street with a broom?” Steve chuckled but it took Bucky a moment before he smiled.
“He kept following her home, right? Always tried to ask her out whenever we weren’t there to walk with her.” 
“She ran right by me and only stopped because that cop was on the corner.”
Their smiles fade after a moment. 
“I wish she were here. She would definitely love all this shit.” Bucky said as he waved his hand around vaguely. 
Steve moved closer and gave Bucky a quick chaste kiss on the cheek before resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. The blond took a deep breath before looking up at his love through his lashes. 
“It’s rude to stare.” 
“Well it’s not my fault you’re handsome.” Steve’s compliment makes Bucky blush. 
“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” 
“What is it?” 
“I think it’s time we go see her. I know she’ll want to see you.” 
Bucky looked up at him with a pained expression.
“What if she hates me?”
“She would never. She’s called me everyday since she heard you were alive.” 
“Ok, we’ll go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure I look ok?” Bucky asked as the couple stood in front of a door waiting for someone to answer their knocks. 
“You look great baby, and trust me she’ll just be happy to see you.” 
Steve had cupped Bucky’s face with his hands and leaned in to give him a kiss. 
“What the fuck is going on here?” 
They parted at the voice.
“Hey, watch your mouth.” 
“I can say the same about you James.”
A staring contest happened until Bucky looked down.
“I’ve missed you, Becca.” Bucky said as he looked at his younger yet older sister. She was shorter and her hair was fully gray. The wrinkles were evidence of the time that had passed but the mischievous glint in her eyes told a different story. 
She opened her arms and her brother gladly accepted the embrace. 
It had been a shock to Bucky to learn that he had one living relative. Well one living sister, he of course knew of the kids all three of his sisters had but he couldn’t seek them out. Mostly for safety but truly he kept his distance because of his guilt. Who would want someone like him in their family? 
When they finally pull away from each other in a hug that felt that lasted years and seconds at the same time, Becca cupped Bucky’s cheek softly. Her thumb moved back and forth on his cheek as he leaned into her touch. This time her eyes were full of tears and relief.
“I’ve missed you too. Now come in, we have so much to talk about.” She had grabbed Bucky’s hand like she did when she was younger and they had to cross the street. 
They made their way into Becca’s cozy living room and sat down. Steve took the armchair while Bucky and Becca sat together on the couch. The latter started telling both of them everything they missed after they had disappeared, from meeting her late husband to her children and grandchildren. There were tears and laughs exchanged. 
“I think we should head out Becs. But I’ll come by again soon.” Bucky promised as they all got up and headed towards the door. 
“You’re both welcome anytime.” 
They stop at the door, Bucky and then Steve hug Becca. Before the door is opened Becca speaks up again.
“Oh I can’t believe I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Becca shuffled along into the hallway and opened a door to a closet. “I’ll need your help Buck.” 
He walks up behind her and she points towards two boxes high up on a shelf. Bucky pulls the first one down and hands it over to Steve before grabbing the second one. 
“What’s in here?” Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.
“Letters and journals. They all belonged to Y/N. She wrote the letters whenever she missed you and you know she wrote in her journals all the time.”
Bucky and Steve looked at each other and then back at Becca.
“Why did you keep them?” 
“Because she asked me too. The day she passed, I was with her and she asked me if I could hold on to them. Maybe someone would want to know about the love she had for both of you. It broke my heart when it was announced you were back.” She turned to Steve. “She would have loved to see you one last time.” 
“What happened to her?” 
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask earlier.” 
“We never stop thinking about her but it hurts to know she isn’t here anymore.” Steve says with a sad smile.
“When we were informed that you were both gone she was a wreck. Ma forced her to move in with us so that we could be there for her. She would stay up in your room for hours just writing. We could hear Y/N crying for hours on end. This was just her way of coping.”
Both men thanked her again and they were gone. On their way to their shared apartment in Brooklyn they didn’t really talk, each of them holding a box under their arm. It was heavier than anything they’ve carried in the past. It was all that was left of you.
They didn’t know it yet but their heart would break with every single letter or entry of your journal they read.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 10th, 1945
My love,
I received your letter last night. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. You know Bucky wouldn’t blame you, and neither do I. But please, if not for yourself than for me, take care of yourself. I don’t care that you have that serum, don't do anything reckless. We’ve already lost Bucky, I don’t know if I’d be able to live knowing I lost you too. 
I know you think the Barnes’ hate you but they don’t, they’re just as worried about you as they were about their son. They know how much we love Bucky and they can’t wait for you to come back home. 
I love you so much. I can’t wait to see you again.
Love, 
Y/N
P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.
Steve tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat, the tears won as they slowly trailed down his cheek and onto the aged paper. It was a response to the letter he had sent you, telling you about Bucky’s death. He felt so much guilt then, still did from time to time. Once Bucky was free of hydra’s hold he reassured Steve he wasn’t to blame. 
Steve was sure you’d blame him too. But the return to sender stamp with the date on the envelope the letter had gotten to him too late. It was just a day after he had crashed the plane into the ocean. Now decades later you gave him peace. Somehow he felt that it wasn’t fair. 
That night Bucky held Steve close. Placing soft kisses on his cheek and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Normally when they didn’t have missions or early training both men loved to stay in bed, pretend the time they were living in wasn’t real, that you’d walk in through the door at any moment and take your place in between them. That your lips would search for theirs and your hands would roam their bodies as gently but demanding as they did before. 
This time when Steve woke up the spot next to him was empty. He got up and walked toward the living room, the closer he got the more he could hear small sobs and sniffles. When he rounded the corner he found Bucky sitting in the middle of the room. Letters and journals sat open around him. Bucky was currently reading a journal and when he heard Steve’s footsteps he looked up. His eyes were rimmed red, it was obvious he had been there a while. 
“What are you reading?” 
“Nothing.” Bucky held the notebook close to his chest. 
“If it’s nothing then I should be able to read it too.” 
Bucky shook his head as his grip on the journal tightened. He averted his eyes when Steve sat beside him and held his hand out. Reluctantly the brunette moved to hand the notebook over but stopped. 
“You have to remember she was grieving when she wrote it.” 
May 3rd, 1945
 What did I do to deserve this? We were supposed to be planning the rest of our lives. Now I have to plan two funerals. The only thing in those matching empty coffins was my heart. 
What am I supposed to do now? Everything I had planned was with Steve and Bucky. 
 I hate not knowing what comes next and I hate them for making me love them. How could they do this to me? How could they leave me alone?
Steve put the journal down and sighed. He remembers going to the cemetery and finding the headstone that was being removed with his name on it, the one to his left was Bucky’s. He’d never allowed himself to put too much thought into what that must have been like for you. Mostly because he would break his own heart thinking about you mourning them alone. He knew it wasn’t fair and there was nothing that he could do to make it right. 
After that day they became obsessed with your writing. There were years worth of it but they decided to pace themselves. Instead of sitting down and reading for hours they instead decided to read one letter and one journal entry a day. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
July 4th, 1945
Dear Stevie,
Happy birthday my Love. I miss you so much but I find some comfort in knowing that at least you and Bucky are together somewhere, hopefully looking down on me. I went to the park today for the first time since you both went off to war. It’s not the same without you here but it was a beautiful day, you would have liked it.  
I signed up for an art class and it went as well as you would expect. Everything at my station, except the canvas had paint on it. Even my dress. But I think you’d be proud that I went for it. The little painting I managed to make is hanging up in the living room next to yours. If only we had convinced Bucky to paint something I would have a perfect set. 
I’ll never stop loving either of you.
Y/N
P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Through missions and long days of training recruits, both men carried some of your writing with them. As time went by they noticed your shift from grieving to trying to survive. It was a journey for them reading your struggles in your everyday life. Steve and Bucky would be lying if they said they didn’t have a favorite letter or journal entry. There were some that reminded them of the happy young woman they had fallen for. Those were the ones they carried with them. 
****
Bucky had been through a difficult mission. He had been confronted by his past again and he was putting his walls up as he sat away from the rest of the team on the jet. Some of the others tried to talk to him but he just kept quiet and his eyes fixated on the wall ahead of him. Sam quietly walked up to him and placed an envelope on the seat next to him and walked away. That caught Bucky’s attention and he turned to see his name in your handwriting. He picked it up and opened the envelope as carefully as he could until he was able to retrieve the piece of paper out. 
August 25th, 1946
Dear Jamie,
I took the girls to Coney Island today. I know they wished you could have been here with us. Becca and Elizabeth finally convinced Mary to get on the cyclone. It reminded me of when you made Stevie go on and he threw up afterward.
 They had a great time. Maybe next time I’ll try to win something for them at one of those game booths but I’m not as good at them as you.
It was nice to be with them. They’ve grown so much in such a short time. You’d be so proud at how well they’re doing. Elizabeth has started reading all of your books and Mary is starting to like science more. But Becca looks the most like you and she’s taking the role of protective big sister very seriously (wonder where she got that from?). I promise to keep an eye on them since they like getting into trouble from time to time. 
I love you so much,
Y/N
P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.
Bucky smiled as he imagined poor little Mary on the Cyclone. Then his smile got slightly bigger as he recalled the day you had mentioned. You had been so mad at him for making Steve get on. But it didn’t take much to get on your good side again. 
Bucky finally looked back up, his eyes meeting Sam’s. He nodded in a silent thanks to his teammate.
 It was no secret amongst the Avengers that both men had been in love and dated the same woman at the same time. No one really said anything, except the occasional joke from Tony. Sam and Nat took it upon themselves to ask them questions about you, especially when they seemed to be having a hard time at work. At the mention of your name they could see how the super soldier’s demeanor would instantly change. 
Their shoulders would drop, a small smile would appear on their lips but it was the sense of longing Nat and Sam saw in their eyes that really let them know you meant more to them than being just some girl from their past.
~~~~~~~~
They had been more than halfway through your journals and letters when they finally found another interesting entry. There was both a sense of relief and a bit of jealousy as they read it.
June 18th, 1950 
I’ve met someone. I’m still not sure how I feel about it but he asked me out on a date. Johnny Richards is his name and he seems kind. Becca has tried to make me say yes that Bucky would want me to move on but I’m not so sure he would, ha! He’d probably pout and cross his arms over his chest and give me his puppy dog eyes to convince me to not go out with him. 
Steve looked up to find Bucky sitting exactly how you had described him and he smiled. 
I think I’m going to say yes though. He’ll never be Steve or Bucky but I think I deserve to find some type of happiness. We’ll just have to see how the first date goes. 
They read the rest of that journal quickly. Your entries talked about how your dates with Johnny were going but mostly they compared him to them. Steve and Bucky weren’t even sure you realized that you were even doing it. With everything Johnny would do for you, you would write down how Steve and Bucky would have done it instead. They found it odd however that the journal was left incomplete. It prompted them to start looking through both boxes again only to come up empty handed. The one thing they did realize was that journal entries picked up in a new notebook with the year 1952. 
“That’s almost two years missing.” Bucky finally said after rechecking everything. A sinking feeling in his chest the longer they searched only to find nothing. 
“We can ask Becca tomorrow. We should get some rest.” 
~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning both men head over to Becca’s home hoping to get some answers. However when she opens the door she isn’t surprised to see them. She dreaded the conversation she was going to have with them but she still ushered Steve and Bucky into her living room. 
“What happened to Y/N between mid 1950 and 1952?” Bucky asked, not bothering to sit down. He feared he already knew the answer.
Becca sighed as she reached into the pocket of her robe and produced another letter. She held it out for Bucky to grab. “You should sit.” Is all she said.
December 24th, 1951
Mr. Barnes
Please help me. He keeps hurting me and I don’t think I’ll survive the next time.
Y/N
The writing was sloppy and in the corner there was a faded brown spot. Through tear filled eyes Bucky looked at it closer. 
“Is this blood? Becca, is this her blood?” He looked up at his sister with rage and a pain in his chest nothing would ever be able to get rid of. 
Bucky and Steve had sacrificed their life only for them to find out that their girl had been hurt and they weren’t there to protect her. They hated themselves. Steve more than Bucky because Bucky had been drafted, he didn’t have much of a choice but Steve? Steve had done everything he could to get into the army. He left you alone and for what? 
“When daddy read that letter he was enraged. Called up some old army buddies and they handled it. But Y/N, she was broken in more ways than one. When they got to the house he had beaten her so badly she could barely move. She was in the hospital throughout the new year. When she was released we brought her home again. Then she never left. Y/N took care of Ma and daddy ‘til the day they died.” 
Steve was fully sobbing now. No matter what he would have done, one of the people he loved would end up hurt. If he hadn’t  signed up for the experiment with Erskine, you wouldn’t have been hurt like this but Bucky would still be in with hydra. 
“You can’t blame yourselves.” Becca sighs. “If she could see you now, see that you’re alive and together, that you saved Bucky from those monsters she would be so happy.”
“She suffered the rest of her life because of us. Was she ever truly happy after this?” 
Becca looked away from her brother with a small frown on her face. That was all the confirmation they needed to know that you had never found happiness again. They left without another word to Becca or each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve and Bucky didn’t speak for a while. Anger rolled off of them in droves. The issue was that neither of them knew who that anger was directed at. Was it at themselves or each other? The war, the draft, the serum, or the son of a bitch who dared put his hands on you. 
Their relationship suffered, missions almost failed, they were more reckless than usual and it went on like that for weeks. There was no lecture from anyone on the team that could make them see that what they were doing would get them or their teammates killed. 
Steve and Bucky had one moment. A single moment when they realized that they weren’t to blame. They apologized and forgave each other for being cold and distant. It’s not what you would have wanted. Just as they were getting back on track Thanos happened and Steve lost Bucky all over again. 
~~~~~~~~~~
5 years later
The team had one chance and they took it. They defeated Thanos. Now Steve has another. He checks himself over again and smoothes out his hair. The day was beautiful just how you said in your letter. Everyone was already celebrating the 4th of July. But as Steve stepped out of the alleyway all he could think about was the conversation he’d he’d with Bucky before he left on his mission to return the stones.
“Don’t do anything stupid until I come back.” Steve said with a smirk.
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky replied as he brought Steve in for a hug. 
Steve pulls back slightly only to connect his lips with Bucky’s. 
“Make sure you find her and make her happy. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t worry Buck. Everything will be alright.” Steve smiles before heading up to the platform. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too, Bucky.” With that final word Steve disappears.
Now here he was just a block away from the park he’d frequented when you were all together. All of the stones were back in place all he needed to do was find you. And that he did. You were sitting on the bench here and Bucky frequented. All of your attention was on the letter you were writing. Steve could recite it from memory now. 
He took a moment to admire your form. You were wearing his favorite dress. The one he bought for your birthday right before he left for the war. Your hair was pinned back the way you loved. Steve smiled, you were more beautiful than he remembered. He finally gathered the courage to step up to you and hoped that this would go well. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
“Yes it is.” You respond without even looking up.
“Are you sure I can’t have a seat kitten?” 
Your head snapped up in the direction of the intruder. His voice had been familiar to you but it couldn’t be who you thought it was. His eyes were so familiar to you but it wasn’t possible because the owner of those beautiful ocean blue eyes had died. Still the sense of familiarity made the ache in your chest lessen and the same of your lover slip from your lips.
“Steve?” 
“Hi sweetheart.” He said as he sat down next to you. 
With hesitant movement you brought your hand up to his cheek. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. 
“Am I dead?” 
The question made Steve chuckle. “You’re not dead, kitten, I’m really here.” 
The answer made you start to sob uncontrollably and your tears made Steve tear up. He pulls you into a hug and tries to soothe you as best as he can. After some time you finally pull away and look at him. Steve kisses your forehead, then your cheeks and finally presses a long awaited sweet kiss to your lips.
“How is this possible?” You say in between hiccuped breaths. “You died. You-your friend Howard, he showed up and told me everything.” 
Steve takes a deep breath and explains everything from waking up in the future to traveling back in time only leaving out the part about Bucky.
“So are you staying?” You look up at him through your still wet lashes. 
“I can’t stay-“ 
You pulled away from him and stood up. Heartbreak and anger rolled through you.
“Why would you come to see me if you’re leaving again? This is so cruel. Do you know how much I’ve cried for you? Since the moment you left to become a lab rat. It wasn’t fair then and it’s not fair now.”
“Hey,” Steve stands and cups your face. “I would never leave you again. I came to get you, if you’d like to come with me.” He pulls out a watch from his pocket. 
“What about the Barnes family? I can’t just leave them too.” 
“I think they’d be happier knowing you’re with me and Bucky.” 
A small gasp escapes your lips as you look from the watch to Steve who’s smiling. 
“Bucky? How is that possible?” 
“It’s his story to tell.” 
“He’s not dead?” 
“Nope. He does think that I left him to stay here with you though. But I think we deserve to be together again. So what do you say?” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The platform comes to life again a minute after Steve had left. To Bucky’s surprise and slight disappointment Nat appears. He disguises his heartbreak behind a smile as Nat walks down and hugs Sam and then him. 
“Glad to have you back.” He whispers into her ear. 
“Glad to be back.” 
“Come on, I’ll buy you a beer and tell you everything you missed.” 
“Buck, aren't you going to wait for Steve to come back?” Sam stopped him.
“Nah, I’m going to grab a drink with a friend. You can come if you want.” 
“You’re a jerk, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Now let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky got home late. He had been trying to avoid the emptiness. Not only in the home he used to share with Steve but the empty feeling in his chest. It was the punishment he deserved or so Bucky thought. To live the rest of his life alone with only the thought of your and Steve’s happiness. He could make due with that. 
Bucky sets his keys in the bowl by the door and takes off his jacket. His thoughts were elsewhere so he didn’t immediately pick up on the fact that he wasn’t alone. Still, he was quick and he pulled the gun he always had on him out. 
“You can put the gun down, Buck.” Steve stepped out from the darkened office door. The streetlights filtering through the windows provide the only source of light. 
“Steve? What are you doing back?” 
“Did you really think I’d leave you alone?” 
“But what about Y/N?”
“She agreed with me.” Steve smirks.
“What are you-“ Bucky’s words die on his as you step out from behind Steve. “Y/N.” He said your name as if it was the most precious thing in the world. 
Bucky’s steps were slow and heavy, as if the world itself sat on his shoulders. You met him halfway way with arms wide open. Bucky fell at your feet, his arms settling around your hips and his head resting against your stomach. 
“Oh honey.” Your body shook as Bucky cried against you. All you could do was run your fingers through his hair. “It’s ok. We’re together again baby.” 
You managed to get on the floor with Bucky and cup his face and press multiple kisses over his face. 
“I missed you, doll.” Bucky says between kisses. It’s frantic and uncoordinated and desperate. 
Steve joins you both on the floor wrapping his arms around each of you. There are more shared kisses amongst the three of you. Someone eventually gets up and pulls the other two along with them. The first night the three of you stay awake just talking and catching up. You tell them things that aren’t in your journals and they tell you about living in the present. Reluctantly Bucky tells you part of what happened with hydra. You can see the guilt in his eyes and all you can do is comfort him. 
The sun is barely starting to rise when the three of you finally fall asleep in each other's arms. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you did wake up you were disoriented by the room you were in until you remembered where you were. The bed was empty but even back in the past both boys were early risers. You fixed your hair and changed before walking out to find Steve and Bucky. As you neared the living room you heard more than two voices talking animatedly. 
“You still haven’t told us what took you so long.” A man said as you got closer. 
Steve opens his mouth to answer but his whole face lights up when you turn the corner and stand at the entrance of the living room. The reaction caused Steve’s friends to turn around and look at you. 
“I was picking someone up.” Steve says. 
“Please tell me you’re Y/N.” The woman had asked and you smiled and nodded. 
“Y/N, this is Nat and Sam.” 
“I have so many questions. Especially about Bucky.” Sam said as he stood up. 
Before he could even stretch his hand out to greet you properly Bucky came up from behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and glared at Sam. He had flowers in his hand which he presented to you. 
“Thank you honey.” You kissed his cheek before turning back to Sam. 
“Let me put these in water and I’ll answer all your questions.” 
Bucky groans as Sam gives him a shot eating grin. You chuckle and when you come back you move to sit down. Eventually Steve and Bucky sit on either of you as Sam and Nat ask you about what they were like back in the day. 
With time this would become a routine until you met everyone on the team, including Howard’s son. They had questions and you had the answers. You were sure to include all kinds of stories, especially the embarrassing ones.
 It hadn’t gone unnoticed how much more relaxed and happy Steve and Bucky had been. Bucky smiled more and was more open with others. Steve had handed over his shield to Sam and was starting to enjoy his free time. Bucky was still required to go on missions but it was ok. Whenever he came back from a mission you and Steve doted on Bucky. From having his favorite movie on or playing his favorite songs and dancing in the living room to cleaning him up and cuddling in bed. Life in modern times wasn’t always easy for you but fortunately Bucky and Steve were always there to help you. 
You still wrote in your journal and on occasion letters for your loves for them to find. The entries were vastly different from what Steve and Bucky had first read. Your journals remained an ode to the love you had which transcended decades and heartbreaks and loss. Now they reflect your joy, love, hope and happiness. The love you had for each other grew with each passing day and you were able to build the home the three of you always dreamed of. 
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too-much-tma-stuff · 11 months
Text
Neither Gone Nor Forgotten
sequel to No Body to Bury. This isn’t edited, if you find any errors feel free to let me nice, just be nice about it.
------
Planning a funeral for Danny turned out both easier, and harder, then Batman had anticipated. Easier because he wasn’t deep in grief the way he had been when planning previous funerals, and harder because, well, the person the funeral was for was still around to have opinions. Not that Danny was hard to please, he seemed happy with just about everything, but he was struggling with whether he should tell his human family and friends. He really wanted to, but he was scared.
“I don’t think they’ll understand,” Danny said, his legs dangling over the edge of the tall building he and Batman were currently sitting on, holding a milkshake Bruce had bought for him. “Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all supported me while I was still only half dead and knew. I haven’t kept entirely out of the news since starting to work with you guys and I know they’re upset I abandoned them, I’ve seen it when I check on them. There’s no way they can understand how much changes when you die, I watch over them, but Ic an never go back.
“I can’t be what they want me to be, I’m not really Danny anymore at all, and they’d want me to be what I was. They’d want me to be human, and I’m just not anymore. I would want them to think I was completely dead and gone, but they’ve seen me in the news so there’s no chance of that.”
“Hm,” Batman said helpfully. “Write them a letter, I’ll make sure it’s delivered and then they can come on your terms, or not,” He suggested, he’d found writing letters to be a lot easier. “Like a will?”
Danny cocked his head to the side as he thought about that and then nodded slowly. “That’s a good idea, thanks Batman. You’re not nearly as bad at emotions as everyone says,” The young ghost said, bumping his shoulder against Bruce’s. It made the older hero smile. He wasn’t surprised to find that Phantom was gone when he turned back towards where the boy was sitting, his small smile remained as he threw out the abandoned milkshake and went on with his patrol.
It was two days later when the letter appeared on his desk, not yet folded or in an envelope which Bruce knew was permission to read it. He appreciated that because he would have had a hard time resisting the curiosity even if it was already sealed.
Dear Sam, Jazz, and Tucker
First of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I loved you all and I didn’t run away, I didn’t want to leave you. It was the GIW, remember when I said I was a ‘who’s who of who can’t catch ghosts’? I guess I underestimated at least one of them because they finally got me. Of course it was Phantom they were trying to kill, but is anyone surprised that they failed? It was Danny who they ended up killing, and now I can’t go back.
I didn’t realize what a big difference there would be between being half dead and all dead, a little humanity goes a long way I guess. Don’t worry I’m not going to become Dan, but I can’t be Danny anymore either, just Phantom left now and while I still love you and watch over you as I am, it’s not like I can just ‘live my life’ anymore. It hurts too much to try and pretend to be alive now, and ghosts are creatures of instinct, I can’t go against the natural order of life and death and come back to you, no matter how much I love you or how much you miss me.
Batman and some of the other heroes have offered to arrange a funeral for Danny, this time there’s actually a corpse to bury after all. I won’t be there, but it’s important for both the living and the dead that the dead have a grave, a place to grieve lost life. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, if it’s too hard or you’re too mad at me still. But if you do come or ever visit I’ll feel you there and it’ll make me happy, and maybe it’ll be some closure for you? I never meant to hurt you.
I’ll still be around to protect you, I’ll protect everyone I can. That’s been my obsession since the start hasn’t it? And Jazz don’t you start, ghost’s obsessions are what keeps us here and in one piece, I don’t need therapy. And I guess that’s the heart of it isn’t it? I’m not human anymore, and I can’t pretend to be, and we wouldn’t understand each other anymore. Not really. Ghosts don’t change much though so I’ll always love you and when you die maybe we can be friends again, if you can forgive me for this.
Forever young and yours,
Phantom
 Batman read the letter and sat quietly with it for a few long minutes, thinking about it and also questioning some parts, like who Dan was. It was sad of course, but it was sweet too, and he didn’t think that Phantom’s friends would be nearly as upset with him as he thought they would be. Finally he sighed and folded it up, finding a envelope and address it to Danny’s sister since she seemed like the best one to make sure they were all there when it was opened and read. He put it in the folder to be sent out and then leaned against his desk.
“Are you really not going to come?” He asked the empty room, and after waiting for a moment wasn’t surprised when Danny stepped out from nowhere. He’d started to get a sense of when Phantom was there, untouchable and unseen.
“No, I’ll be there, but only the way spirits usually are. I won’t be there physically, just in spirit,” He said, smiling at his own pun. Batman chuckled a little and nodded.
“I understand why you don’t want them to know that, I won’t let on,” He assured. “I think you’ve done the right thing letting them know.”
Danny nodded and then vanished again, this time out through the window, properly leaving the office and Batman alone again.
Batman had the discussion with the rest of the Justice League without Phantom present so they could avoid accidental offense. Not everyone would come, not everyone could come, Batman banned a few of the more literal heroes who would not understand why they were having a funeral when Phantom was still here, even though he had actually died. But a decent amount did come, and Batman had a feeling that the ones Phantom would care about most was Bruce himself, and Diana, who was coming.
-----
When the day of the funeral came Batman and Diana stood outside the little chapel to welcome people. They weren’t technically family of course, apparently Diana was distantly through an ancestor of hers and adoption, and Bruce thought of himself as a paternal figure to Danny, besides they’d been here early setting everything up. The nice coffin was already at the front of the room, closed since it was empty with while lilies placed on top and decorating the little building along with some roses and candles.
He wasn’t particularly surprised when the first person who showed up was Danny’s big sister Jasmine Fenton driving Danny’s two friends. His parents weren’t there but Phantom had mentioned it might not be a good idea for them to come because they would probably be disruptive. Both Jazz and Tucker’s eyes were rimmed red like they’d been crying and Sam’s jaw had a stubborn set to it like clenching it was the only thing keeping her lips from trembling.
They reached the steps, Batman nodded to them and Diana gave them a sad smile. Jazz looked through the open doors, her breath hitching. “Is he in there?” She asked, pointing to the coffin.
Batman shook his head, voice soft and rough as he responded. “Phantom said he’d bring the body later, Less chance for something to go wrong and… I don’t know if it would hurt him, but I think it’s easy to see why he’d be protective of it.”
Jazz’s lip trembled and she took a deep breath, behind her Sam had wrapped an arm around Tucker who had started to cry again, turning to hide against her shoulder. “When you see him again tell him we’re not mad at him, please?” Sam said, her voice hard with repressed emotions, it almost sounded angry but there was a subtle difference.
“He’s right that we can’t understand everything,” Jazz said, biting her lip for a moment before continuing. “But after something like this he needs space, and we won’t rush him. If he needs to start a new life, we get it, everything must remind him of trauma right now, but if he ever wants to get back in touch with us. Well, I’ll love him forever too. But also tell him that he should have been more careful in that letter he wrote if any of us had been feeling suicidal his comment about being friends again after death might have been the last push we needed over the metaphorical edge-”
She was taking a deep breath to continue her lecture when Sam wrapped her other arm around Jazz’ shoulder and pulled her away. “Well we’re not, it’s fine, let’s go sit down before Tucker collapses from dehydration from all these tears.”
“I’m not going to collapse! I’m not even crying that much!” Tucker insisted, his voice audibly wet.
Batman and Diane kept their faces straight while Sam dragged them all into the little building and to seats in the front row. Then Batman’s lips twitched up in a slight smile and Diana gave a weak laugh. “I knew they wouldn’t be as angry with Phantom as he feared,” Batman said, trying to keep his amusement under control.
“What a precocious girl, a big sister through and through,” Diana agreed and sniffled a little, it seemed their grief had gotten to her a little. He understood.
Slowly more people filtered in, just other heroes now, and one young woman called Val. Sam said to let her in even though there was clearly tension there, the heroes didn’t ask.
The scheduled time of the funeral Diana and Batman went inside, closing the door after them and, since Danny hadn’t wanted a priest so Batman started to make his way to the front to start things off.
“We’re here today in remembrance of Danny Phantom, a brave young man lost to soon in the line of duty. He never should have had to join the fight so young,” Batman stumbled a little when he saw Jason slip in at the back of the chapel. He had sort of though Jason wasn’t coming, but there he was, dressed in his Red Hood get up, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Batman could tell that he was on edge, but he was here, and it would make Danny happy. He took a deep breath and carried on with his planned remarks.
When he was done he stepped down off the little podium and Jazz stepped up, pulling some queue cards out of her pocket, taking a deep breath and launching into a planned speech. She was a good public speaker, she managed to keep it together through her speech but her words were clearly very heartfelt.
It went well, a few more people spoke, by the end Batman was actually having a hard time keeping his feeling under control, he maybe should have came as Bruce Wayne so he could have cried. He kept it under control though and eventually it was time to bring the coffin out to the prepared grave. They hadn’t fully planned who would carry it because they hadn’t known if Danny’s friends and sister were going to come, but now that they were here of course they were invited to help carry the coffin.
Batman and Diana took the majority of the weight of course, but all three of them took the offer to help carry the coffin the prepared grave. They lowered it in and Superman placed the specially made vault over top that would protect Danny’s body from, well, the usual stuff super heroes had to deal with, bodies being stolen for experimentation, attempted cloning’s, resurrection but wrong, all that jazz.
Jasmin through in the first handful of dirt, then Sam, then Tucker and then the heroes joined in. When the grave started to be filled properly a lot of the heroes started to wander away, Batman approached Jason who was hanging back.
“Please stay,” He murmured to his estranged son, seeing Jason’s shoulders tense, his arms were still crossed defensively. “Phantom will be bringing his body one most of the people clear out and he’d really like to meet you. If you don’t mind, he just died, and it’s been hard on him, I think meeting you would be a comfort.” He watched with bated breath as Jason’s fingers twitched and tightened on his own arms before he nodded. Bruce breathed a subtle sigh of relief and nodded, turning back towards the grave.
Once the grave was filled and basically everyone else had either left or gone back to the little chapel to socialize, Danny finally arrived. He faded into view, seemingly almost shy, watching them both closely for their reaction. Bruce understood why, he had to carefully school his expression when he saw the state that Danny’s body was in. It wasn’t that he was dead obviously, ashen and limp, passed the stage of rigger it seemed, it was the visible injuries. He was littered with cuts and bruises, there were stull cuffs around his ankles and wrists which had clearly burned into his skin. The wound that had killed him was, well, it looked like an autopsy had been done, his chest was fully open, but Batman knew it had been done while he was still alive. It was horrific.
Batman managed to keep himself under control though his breathing sped up, Hood’s mask completely hid his face but he rocked back like he’d been struck. Danny hesitated, licked his lips a little and stepped forward.
“I can’t touch the cuffs, but I don’t want too bury him with them still on. Will you take them off for me? They shouldn’t burn you,” Danny asked Bruce.
He was about to say yes when Jason cut in, “I’m better at picking locks then him, I’ll do it.” He practically growled, stalking forward and pulling his lock picking kit out of one of the pockets on his suit. “Who did this to him,- You?” He asked softly as Danny knelt, cradling his own corps close to his chest, letting Jason kneel in front of him and take one of the limp arms to start on the cuffs. Jason hissed when he touched it, it burned a little but he breathed through it and started to pick the lock.
“It was the GIW, the ghost investigation ward. I killed the ones who did it, and the justice league helped me disband the rest of the organization and overturn the laws that enabled it,” Danny responded, his green eyes locked unblinkingly on Jason, watching him as he watched Jason work on the locks.
“Good, I’m glad their dead. That must have felt good,” He chuckled vindictively.
“I am too, but I’m more glad they won’t get to hurt anyone else. They might have gone for you if they were still able.”
“Me? Why?” Jason asked, his fingers twitching, he cursed softly when the lock pick slipped, he grumbled and started again.
“Because you died before didn’t you? The cuffs burn you because you’re not… completely alive anymore I won’t ask anything about it, I know that’s private but if you ever want to talk about it, or if you need help with the… side affects, I’d be happy to help you,” Phantom offered softly. Jason only hummed in response, he needed to process and consider that.
When the final cuff fell to the ground Danny took a deep breath and curled around himself, resting his forehead against his body’s hair. From the way his shoulders were shaking they could tell he was crying, Jason rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder, just being there for him until Phantom was ready and finally sunk into the ground. He was down there for a long time before he surfaced again, flying over to hug batman, burrowing against his chest a little while Batman patted his back gently, Jason standing by awkwardly.
“Thank you so much for doing this, and thank you both so much for coming. This really means so much to me.”
“Of course kid,” Jason said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s soft white hair.
Batman nodded, giving Danny a gentle squeeze, “No one deserves to be forgotten.”
Tag list: @kikkobara @phlebocuffs @spikethecrazycat @spookytragedyshark @thatonegaybitch68 @stargazer-luna @fangirlnerd001 @seraphinedemort @yjfk @rosieparker1856 @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun and thank you too @your-local-idiot-savant for giving me feedback on some parts
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flamingpudding · 10 months
Text
DPxDC Family Week June 23 (Day 6)
Prompt: Grandparents | Lost
A/N: I felt like writing something with some Angst I guess, tho I don't know what all I need to TW so if I forgot something please tell me.
TW: Grieving Danny, mentions of accidental mass Genocide, Mentions of Character Death
AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions
Danny sat on the roof of Wayne Manor staring longingly at the smog and light polluted sky. Trying to get at least the smallest glimpse of the stars above him and ignoring the two ghostly presences that he knew were watching him worriedly. He didn't want to feel like this anymore but at this very moment he resented Gotham. Despite Lady Gotham being welcoming to him and despite the warm welcome the Wayne's were attempting to give him Danny couldn't help but feel like he just wanted everything to end.
Amity had gone up in an ectoplasm powered explosion. The entire town was gone. And so were his parents, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Valery, Wes, and everyone else he had ever known. Even Ellie had gotten caught up in it just when she had gotten officially adopted by his parents. All because he told his parents about Phantom. They accepted him, Ancients, they were even starting to change their ways. Their research was no longer biased and rather filled with the truth Danny was able to provide them. His parents had turned from Ghost Hunters to Ghost Defenders. Helping him and Ellie in sending them back to the Ghost Zone as well as rescuing them from the GIW. It was so nice not having to worry about them hunting him or injuring him any longer.
But of course everything couldn't have stayed like that. His life was doomed to not let him have good and peaceful things. Because the moment his parents changed they also stopped providing their weaponry to the GIW. Apparently that was the only thing that stopped these people from attempting to develop their own stuff. Which resulted in them creating their own highly dangerous arsenal.
Danny drew in his knees and buried his face in them, eyes stinging. Everything has gone to shit then. He knew that Jazz and probably everyone else too, would tell him that it wasn't his fault. But he couldn't help it. If he had never told his parents the truth, they wouldn't have stopped their deal with the GIW, then they wouldn't have started developing their own stuff. And then they wouldn't have come up with a nuclear level kind of ecto-bomb that was supposed to clean out Amity of all the ghosts but ended up destroying and killing everyone in town while leaving Danny as the only survivor just because he had been called by Clockwork for some stupid royal duties.
He remembered screaming, yelling and cursing once he returned and realized that his entire home town was gone. Accusing Clockwork of everything and nothing, demanding for him to send him back at least a couple of hours so he could prevent it from happening, but the other only shook his head telling Danny that even he didn't expect that change to the timeline and that it would be useless to try and prevent it from happening. Danny hadn't believed him at all as he broke down in the rumble place that used to be his home.
Of course that level of an explosion would also finally gain the Justice Leagues attention after all the failed calls he and his friends had made. He had wanted to scream at them too, blame them for so many things when they never offered their help before, but he didn't. His screaming at clockwork already had trained him of all the energy he had left. Besides one of the people coming by to check what happened was Batman and of course when they found him Batman would arrange for Danny to probably get taken care of which meant Bruce Wayne showing up and taking him in.
He guessed Bruce Wayne taking him in was still better than Vlad at this point, if that other halfa had survived that was.
Danny only went with the man because Clockwork had told him too, despite the anger still bubbling in his core whenever the ancient ghost contacted him, he listened albeit reluctantly. Because Clockwork told him that he could still avoid a Dan Timeline by going with that man but the ghostly teenager didn't know how. He had lost everything and right now he felt like he understood Dan better than he had ever before. His core hurt so much and he wasn't sure how long he could hold onto his sanity.
Sure he mimed the good kid for the Waynes, yet it had all been an act at the beginning. He got along with Jason just fine, probably because he could feel something familiar from him. Something he hadn't really paid enough attention to figure it out. Damien was nice company and he liked how the boy reminded him of Sam. Sure the kid had been a bit stabby but that was nothing compared to the time his parents spent hunting him when they hadn't known. Tim also reminded him of Tucker in a way, brilliant and adept to technology like no one else but the guy needed a better sleep schedule. Though Danny could relate to the coffee addiction they both appear to have. He kept his distance from Dick though. The eldest Wayne kid reminded him way too much of Jazz with the oldest sibling energy that came from him. Cass on the other hand was a nice and calming presence, she didn't talk much and sometimes that was all that Danny needed, just a silent presence next to him that didn't try to do something or talk about anything with him. Duke also was nice to be around though the other boy had kept his distance at first he now appeared more curious about him than before, Duke also had subtitly asked if Danny was a Meta, but luckily for the halfa, he had been able to redirect that question without answering it.
Still no matter how nice they were or how much he got along with them. It felt wrong, wrong to be here, wrong to accept their kindness, wrong, wrong, wrong. He could feel how his core fell into the chaos of is emotions as ice slowly spread around him.
"There you are, little Danny." He tensed but didn't look up. A cold wisp left passed his lips as he breathed out and he felt a ghostly presence 'sit' next to him on the roof; one was still watching him from a distance. His ice receded not wanting to end up making that other presence an ice block despite his need of wanting to be alone.
"You know, my son and his kids are pretty worried down there. I am sure that little Jason is currently tearing through every hidden nog and cranny he used to use. And little Damien is just seconds away from stabbing someone in his ire, he gave Titus one of your shirts Alfred hasn't washed yet in an attempt to find you and I believe little Tim is speed watching every video from all the cameras my son has installed. Sweet little Cass and little Duke are slinking along and using the shadows to look for you and little Dick appears to have become a headless chicken while simultaneously trying to calm down my son."
Danny didn't answer nor did he acknowledge Thomas Wayne's presence next to him. This was another thing he would have to get used to. Thomas and Martha Wayne, two of the ghosts that stuck to the Manor had taken to him the same way Lady Gotham had. But for some reasons the two were rather protective of Danny, referring to him as their newest grandchild. Something he just couldn't understand.
He was sure that if Jazz was here she could explain it to him. Ancients, he missed his sister.
"They are postponing their patrol until you're found, you know."
"I didn't ask them to." The halfa muttered lowly, still not looking up. The ghost next to him chuckled. Danny had figured out pretty quickly that the entire Wayne Family were vigilantes. In fact they were the Bat-Clan. If he hadn't figured it out by going around invisible and intangible during his first night here because he was suspicious of Bruce being another fruitloop then Danny was pretty sure that either Martha or Thomas would have spilled the truth to him sooner or later.
They had gushed so much about how proud they were of their child and grandchildren and how Danny would perfectly fit in with them. How they would give him the support he needed and the protection he deserved. He didn't want it, he was not going to replace the support he had before.
"They mean well. I know that my son can be…" Danny peaked up from his knees to see Thomas hand waving in a way that he couldn't interpret but had seen Jazz do too whenever their parents were being difficult. "... but he tries to be a good Dad."
"I don't need them trying to replace Mom and Dad." Was his grief, frustration and resentment leaking through his voice? Because if Thomas was going to give him the 'My son is a good Dad talk' he would not hesitate to change and fly away for good. He had played with the thought of running away before but Martha, bless her ghost, had convinced him to stay longer. How she had done it Danny didn't know but that woman could be very persuasive when she wanted to be or at least that was what Thomas told him.
"No one is trying to replace anyone." He felt Thomas' ghostly hand motion over his head like he was stroking Danny's hair. It took Danny a moment until he actually felt the motion, allowing the others ghostly touch to reach him and ignoring how his core painfully hummed at that action.
"Really, cause it sure feels like it with how they 'care'." Maybe that had been a low blow but the halfa was getting fessed up and bitter with the Waynes. It wasn't like they were mistreating him. No, in fact they were treating him very well despite Danny always drawing a line. Never getting too personal with any of them despite how well he could get along with them. Martha and Thomas kept encouraging him, assuring him that they were all honest with him even when he didn't want to hear that.
Because even if he denied it with his mind, his core knew, he had already stopped pretending to like them after the first week with them. Martha and Thomas constantly sought him out, claiming it as their duty as his grandparents. Checking in on him and how he was settling in, asking how he was feeling. And when Danny would refuse to acknowledge them, the two ghostly resistances would just laugh and start telling him about their family, trying to help him understand. About their son and their grandchildren. About random things the two had seen happening that the rest of the family didn't, like Alfred the cat and Batcow taking a walk around the Manor unnoticed by everyone.
Unwillingly he had learned a lot of embarrassing stories like that about the Waynes all during his first week. Dicks escapades with chandeliers, Jason's special book collection no one knew about, Tim sleep deprived action he thought no one knew about, Cass little pranks she liked to pull and no one ever traced back to her, Duke's hero speech practices and Damian's constant attempts to smuggle new animals into the Manor. His core had ached, lamenting the fact that he would never be able to share stories like that with his sisters or his best friends anymore. Rationally thinking he knew these ghostly grandparents only meant well but it only made him miss Amity more.
He curled up again, once more burying his face in his knees.
Would his core ever stop hurting? He had failed his entire hometown? What was his obsession worth now? He hadn't been able to protect anyone. Would… would his core stop hurting if he let insanity take him? If he became like Dan after all? Was that how Dan came to be? It made sense, didn't it? Dan did come from a timeline where he had lost everything.
"Oh little Danny." The pressure on his eyes became too much and the halfa could feel how wet tears soaked the fabric of jeans as he pressed his eyes against his knees. A cold touch lay across his shoulder and he was sure that Thomas was giving him a hug, he could feel his core calling out to his self proclaimed ghostly grandparents but he ignored it. "Let it out, there is no fault in grieving. Ancients know how nearly everyone in this family had gone and dealt with grief. There is no need to rush, we all will be there for you."
A sob escaped him as his shoulders started shaking.
He didn't know how much time passed as he didn't even register how the cold touch on his shoulders changed to a warm one. How it became more grounding as someone rubbed his back. The ghostly presence that had been next to him had disappeared but instead there were six other warm presences around him and a seventh one not too far away.
Danny didn't look up but he knew, he knew that the Wayne's had joined him on the roof and he was pretty sure that the arm around his shoulder probably belonged to Dick and that the one rubbing his back was Duke. The one sitting close to his legs was most likely Damien as it was the smallest and Tim was probably the presence to his right. There was another silent presence behind him, Cass most likely as well as Jason's sort of ghostly but not presence. He could even sense Bruce close by.
No one said anything and the halfa was fine with that. His core didn't warm at their silent actions but it did hurt just a little bit less. For a brief moment Danny thought that maybe he wouldn't have to become like Dan after all for it to stop hurting. Maybe Thomas and Martha were right that staying here would help him heal.
Thomas watched all his grandchildren silently giving their support and help when his newest grandchild was lost in his grief. He was still worried about the little guy, he wasn't the youngest among them but he was carrying a lot on his shoulders. His trauma and grief are so different yet so similar to the rest of their family and his core ached with that knowledge. Couldn't the children just be happy without any difficulties throwing rocks in their paths?
At the moment Lady Gotham was making sure that no other ghosts would come to bother his grandchild. Apparently little Danny already had his own little group of rogues that were eagerly awaiting to check on him. Thanks to the city's spirit though, he and his wife could make sure that the little halfa was settling in well with his new family without them trying to fight his newest grandchild.
"Don't worry dear." His wife floated over to him, laying her head on his shoulder as they watched the children. "They will help him with his grief and once they have he will fit right in with the lot of them."
A chuckle escaped him as he watched the eldest helping up the grieving boy who was doing his best to bury himself in his oversized hoodie. The second oldest ruffled the halfa's hair when they passed him on their way back into the manor, the youngest hot on their heels, sticking close to the grieving teen. His granddaughter taking the chance to hug the boy and not looking like she would let go anytime soon while the third oldest boy followed rambling about an observatory he would like to take Danny too.
"I know they will. I am just wondering how our son will deal with our grandchild's special status as well as counting as a royal family once little Danny opens up."
His wife giggled. "Well that is a problem for another day, dear. I am sure our Brucie will know how to deal with it and if not Alfred is still with him to support."
Thomas nodded. "And if everything fails, we will be here to help guide them?"
"Of course my dear."
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juliemolinaz · 3 months
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Aside from the theme of finding yourself again and the importance of remembering where you come from, I really appreciated how well the show explored all the positive and negative consequences of letting go.
Through Sang-tae, we got to see how not letting go of your grief can blind you to the grief of others to the point that you get so focused on what you're experiencing that you hurt the people that you love. And then we got to see what happened when Sang-tae finally let go of his anger. He was finally able to see that other people were grieving for his wife. And by letting go of that anger, Sang-tae was finally able to talk about his wife in ways that weren't painful. He was able to gain back the friendships and happiness in his life that we lost.
Through Sang-do, we got to see how not letting go can cause you to get stuck and miss out on a lot of opportunities. By refusing to let go of his crush on Sam-dal, Sang-do was stuck in the past and didn't get to make a meaningful romantic relationship of his own. When he finally was able to accept the fact that his crush on Sam-dal wasn't going to be reciprocated, he seemed a lot more free. So, both Sang-tae and Sang-do were similar in the fact that letting go of something that is painful can be freeing.
Through Sam-dal, we got to see how letting go can actually be harmful and isolating. Sam-dal didn't want her relationship with Yong-pil to get in between Yong-pil and his dad, so she let go of her connection to Samdal-ri. She stopped talking to her mutual friends and she stayed in Seoul even though she had the right to spend time in her hometown just as much as Yong-pil and his dad. When she came back to Samdal-ri and let herself acknowledge that she was allowed to have her friendships and connections to her hometown, she seemed a lot happier with herself.
Through Yong-pil, we got to see that sometimes it's okay to not let go and instead hold onto things. Even though he was a part from Sam-dal, Yong-pil didn't let go of his feelings towards Sam-dal. He waited and waited and waited and eventually, he was able to be with her again. We also got to see that through Dae-yeong. He didn't let go of his feelings towards Jin-dal and they ended up back together too.
Through Yong-pil, we also got to see that it can be bad to always let go of your dreams to focus on helping others. Sam-dal was right to tell Yong-pil that he needed to go to Switzerland because he would have regrets if he didn't.
There's obviously a lot of other examples around letting go in the show, but I really did like how we got to see all the ways it can be painful to not let go, how freeing it can be to let go, how it can be okay to hold on instead of letting go, and how letting go all the time can be bad too.
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imagines--galore · 1 year
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||Nothing but a Burden||
Summary: In a span of a few second, Bucky breaks your heart.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Angst. Romance. None.
A/N: Let there be ANGST! Also this is around the time of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Before it starts I guess. We don’t really SEE Bucky grieving the loss of Steve you know? I mean they were best friends and he quickly replaced him with Sam. I mean sure I LOVE the dynamic between Sam and Bucky, but COME ON PEOPLE! Show me the reaction Bucky had at realizing his friend was gone!
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You stormed into the apartment, tears stinging your eyes as you strode to your bedroom and yanked open the closet door. Pulling out your suitcase from the back of it, you threw it open onto your bed and began to throw your things inside. There was no sequence to your belongings as you packed them up. Clothes, makeup, trinkets, shoes. Anything that you thought you needed was thrown into the bag. It took you all of five minutes to finish up and zip the case shut.
Setting it down on the floor, you quickly pulled at the handle and began to wheel it out of the room. As you entered the living room the door swung open to reveal Bucky standing there. There was a crazed, almost desperate look in his eyes as met your gaze.
He took a step forward. “Y/n, I-”
“Don’t.” Your voice cut him off. Never before had you spoken to him with such a cold tone. He seemed to stumble back on his feet as you continued. “Just don’t James. I don’t want to hear it.”
It took every last ounce of strength you had to not break down into tears as you stood in front of the man you loved. A long stretch of silence followed your words in which you glared at him, hatred and sorrow burning equally in your gaze while he couldn’t even bring himself to meet your eyes.
His eyes dropped to your suitcase and he finally looked up at you, panic settling into his body as he spoke. “You’re leaving?” You made a small sound of disgust. “Well what did you expect I would do after what you said? Go home and fix you dinner?” You threw back, venom dripping from your every word as you moved to grab your car keys.
Not wanting to stay in the apartment the two of you had shared for so long, the ghosts of all the happy memories and laughter getting too much for you, you moved to push past him and out the door.
But he didn’t budge.
“Get out of my way James.” Your voice was soft, though it had lost none of its iciness as you stared over his shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Y/n, please listen to me. I didn’t mean what I said. I was just-I just-” He seemed to stumble over his words before he spoke again. “You caught me at a bad time and-” You finally met his gaze, prompting him to stop talking.
“Thats your excuse?!” Your voice sounded equal parts incredulous and disgusted. He swallowed thickly. “You think just because your best friend went back to the past and lived a happy life, it gives you an excuse to be a jerk about it?”
“My best friend died James.” You continued. “You don’t see me being a bitch about it and lashing out at people do you?” You tried your best to stay strong, to stay mad at him. Yet the overwhelming grief that coursed through your very soul had your voice cracking with emotion and your eyes filling with tears.
Memories of a red haired assassin began to plague your mind, but you pushed them aside. Now was not the time.
Not the time.
“She taught me to make something of myself. To never rely on anyone and yet here you are.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “A former brain-washed agent of HYDRA undoing all her hard work by just saying four little words.”
The words seem to act as a trigger for him, causing his eyes to flash in anger. His emotion matched yours on an equal footing now, and neither of you would back down easily.
You barely noticed, seemingly on a roll as you unloaded all your hurt and anger at his words. “I was just trying to help you James. I was just being a friend, and then you go ahead and say that I am nothing but a waste of space? A burden because what? I’m not a super soldier? Or have any powers? Or I’m not a war hero like Steve?”
A loud disbelieving laugh fell from your lips as your hand lifted to wipe angrily at the tears that were stinging the corner of your eyes. Silence followed your words, as Bucky turned his attention to the floor, guilt and shame making him unable to look you in the eye.
But then you said something that truly broke his heart, just as he had broken yours.
“And here I thought, we would finally have the chance to explore what happened between us before Thanos.”
You were referring to the time when he was living in Wakanda, recovering from the experiments and brain-washing HYDRA had did on him. When you would drop by to meet him, see how he was progressing. At first you had done it as a courtesy to Steve, but then, slowly, a friendship had developed between the two of you. That friendship, had slowly morphed into attraction. An attraction that had culminated in the two of your sharing a kiss underneath the wide open sky of the African plains.
Giving him no chance to respond, you picked up your suitcase, and shouldered past him. Bucky was so stunned that he barely moved, his brown eyes following you as your hand twisted the doorknob.
You paused, sighing deeply as you closed your eyes, silently begging him to plead you into staying. To beg you that he was sorry. That he didn’t mean it. Just one final time.
But James didn’t move.
“I hope you will be happy living a burden free life James. Because I won’t be in it.”
With that you were gone.
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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year
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Broken Without You
Summary: After witnessing the death of your best friend Henry and his little brother, you're close to giving up and ending it all. Until Joel asks you to join him and Ellie on their journey across the country and gives you a reason to keep fighting.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: language, blood, suicidal thoughts
Previous Chapter
Chapter 4-
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"His brother might be in Wyoming, that's why we're going there." Ellie randomly said, breaking the silence.
The three of you followed the old freeway north of Kansas City, putting as much distance between you and the horde of infected that were no doubt taking over what used to be the QZ.
"Ellie." Joel hissed, shooting her a warning look.
"What? It's not a secret."
Joel looked like he wanted to argue that statement, but kept his mouth shut. You looked between the two of them, but Ellie simply rolled her eyes at the man before you focused back on the scenery around you.
The just-risen sun shone softly on the green pastures either side of the road, bringing with it the melody of birds chirping. It was a beautiful morning, and you hated it. It shouldn't be beautiful, not after what happened in KC. In the movies it was always dark and miserable outside when people were grieving, but in real life? Mother Nature didn't give a shit about your feelings.
The bright shining sun felt like a punch to the face, so you looked away, staring at your feet as you walked.
"We don't know where exactly in Wyoming he is. Last Joel heard, Tommy was somewhere in that state, but then he lost radio contact." Ellie continued to ramble.
"Wyoming is a big place." You pointed out, glancing over at the girl. "Have you tried to contact him on the radio recently?"
Ellie looked over at Joel for an answer, but he seemed to be actively ignoring your conversation while he walked a few paces ahead.
"Joel?" Ellie called out, awaiting an answer. "Don't act like you're not listening to everything we've said."
Joel sighed, "I don't have a radio to try contact him on."
He didn't bother turning to look at you as he spoke, instead he kept his head straight while he walked, and Ellie opened her mouth to probably say something sarcastic before you spoke up.
"What if I took you to a radio tower?"
Joel stopped dead in his tracks. You and Ellie nearly walked straight into him, not expecting him to come to a sudden halt. He turned to face you properly, his brown eyes locking with yours.
"You can get me to a radio tower?" He asked in shock, and you nodded. "How?"
"FEDRA have a radio tower between KC and Omaha. Last I heard, it was still up and running."
Joel frowned, "how do you know FEDRA have a radio tower there?"
"It was common knowledge back in KC." You easily lied.
Joel eyed you cautiously, almost as if he could somehow sense you weren't telling the truth. He kept his expression blank and for a few seconds you feared he had figured it out, but then he was simply nodding before he continued walking.
The last thing you wanted was for Joel to find out who you really were. If he did, he would take Ellie and leave. He wouldn't let you stay with them, and to your own surprise, you found yourself wanting to stay with them.
Earlier, you were happy for them to leave you behind, but you're glad that Ellie came back for you because if she didn't, there was no doubt that you would be dead by now. Whether it be by your own hand or not was still up for debate.
The single bullet in your jeans pocket felt warm as you thought about it. Joels words from earlier this morning ringing through your ears.
'…if you plan on using that thing, I ain’t gonna stop ya. I get it… but just think about that kid over there. She’s already lost enough.'
You weren't sure how you felt about his words. But every time you thought about Henry and Sam, the more you wished you could be with them again. Just one shot and all your pain and suffering would be gone.
It was tempting, but you'd never do that in front of Ellie or Joel.
You'd never put them in that position, especially after Henry did it to you.
-
By late afternoon the following day, you were walking through the main street of town towards the radio tower looming high in the sky on the far side of the suburbs.
The weather had done a full 360, almost as if Mother Nature had heard your thoughts from earlier. The sun had been hidden behind the stormy clouds since you woke up and it had been raining steadily for the last three hours.
Your hair was drenched, and clothes soaked through completely. Ellie had her hoodie up, but it didn't do much to stop the rain and Joel wasn't faring any better, although the leather of his jacket was probably doing a decent job at keeping the water out compared to your flannel shirt.
"What is this?" Ellie suddenly questioned, pointing at a vehicle to your left.
You looked to where she was pointing to find a very old and faded ice cream truck parked beside the curb. Wait, had Ellie never seen an ice cream truck before?
"That is an ice cream truck." You answered watching her brows furrow in confusion.
"An ice cream truck?"
"Yeah. I don't remember a lot from before the outbreak, I was just a kid, but this..." You said, stopping beside the truck. "Oh, I remember this. They'd sell ice cream out of these bad boys."
"What? No way." She said, shaking her head in disbelief before glancing over at Joel for backup. "Joel?"
"It's true." He admitted, sparing a quick glance at you before focusing on the truck and if you weren't mistaken, there was a slight twitch to his lips as if he was fighting back a smile. "This thing used to drive around and play real loud creepy music and kids would come running out to buy ice cream."
Well, when he worded it like that it sounded super weird, but it was true.
"You're totally fucking with me."
"Um-mm serious."
"Man, you lived in a strange time." Ellie said, staring at the truck like it was a spaceship.
You smiled softly watching her before a thought hit you hard.
If Ellie didn't know what an ice cream truck was, that meant Sam never knew what one was either. There was so much about the old and the new world Sam never knew after a lifetime inside the KC QZ. Walking around in some random small town and seeing things like ice cream trucks and never-ending green pastures would be like Disney Land for him. But he wasn't here to see it.
"Let's keep moving. This rain isn't going to stop anytime soon." You instructed, looking away from the truck abruptly before you turned and marched on towards the tower.
If Joel or Ellie noticed your sudden change in demeanour, they didn't comment on it and instead silently followed as you led them in the direction of the tower.
It wasn't long before you were opening the door to the small shed next to the radio tower. There was a spare key hidden under a brick around the back, but like hell you were going to use that. Joel was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. He'd put two and two together. So, you used a crowbar that you grabbed earlier while you walked past the hundreds of abandoned cars in the neighbourhood knowing you'd need it for this moment.
You stepped inside first, the crowbar clutched in your hands tightly as you scanned the small room for any infected, but other than a few spiderwebs there wasn't anything in there. It had been a long time since you were last here. So, you hoped that the radio was still in working condition.
Joel and Ellie followed you inside and looked around while you went straight to the front desk and flicked on the switch for the radio, hoping, praying that the little green light would turn on.
A few seconds ticked by, but the light wouldn't turn on. The old radio had finally died.
"Shit." You cursed softly under your breath, flicking the switch a few times just to be sure, but it wouldn't work.
Joel appeared beside you, his eyes scanning the radio before he leant forward and began fiddling with the wires at the back of it. You stood back, giving him room to work before you glanced over at Ellie who was standing by the window and looking up at the tall radio tower beside the shed.
"Imagine the view from up there." She whispered, her eyes wide and full of curiosity.
"Got it." Joel suddenly said, bringing your attention back to him to find the little green light by the power switch was now shining brightly.
"Thank God."
You stepped forward and began scanning the frequency channels searching for any radio chatter out of habit more than anything. Back when the KC FEDRA was still up and running, the channels were full of people talking and relaying information. It was kind of eerie hearing the radio so silent.
"What channel did you used to talk to your brother on?" You asked, glancing over at Joel.
He opened his mouth to answer but didn't get a chance before Ellie suddenly cut him off.
"Uh, guys? There's a group of people with guns heading this way."
You had never moved so fast in your entire life. You ripped open the top draw of the desk and grabbed the pair of binoculars that you knew were inside, hoping Joel was too distracted to wonder how you knew it was there.
Raising the binoculars to your eyes, you looked out the window Ellie was standing by, and your stomach dropped in realisation.
They were survivors from Kathleen's resistance group.
You couldn't recognise most of them, but the woman leading the way was one of Kathleen's best friends. Shit. They must be here for the radio tower as well. How the hell did they even survive that horde of infected back in KC?
"We need to leave." You quickly ordered.
"Who are they?" Joel questioned sternly, catching onto the fact that you had recognised them.
"No one good. C'mon, there's a back door."
Joel and Ellie followed you without hesitation, the three of you rushing out the back door and running down the street in the opposite direction. Rain continued to pour down from the sky above you, but you didn't even notice.
"They're getting away!" A voice yelled in the distance before gunshots suddenly erupted from behind you.
"This way!" You shouted above the gunfire, ducking down between two houses and out the line of fire.
The three of you ran along the outside wall of the house before popping out onto a different street. You scanned left and right trying to get your bearings before you took off running across the street towards a small alleyway.
"Do you know where you're goin'?" Joel questioned, breathing heavily as you crouched down behind a large dumpster in the alleyway and he did the same, pulling Ellie down beside him.
"We can't go south, that’s where they are. So, that’s out the question, but all other roads out of town lead to the same place, the bridge."
"The bridge? Like a freeway bridge?" Ellie asked in confusion.
You shook your head, "no. A bridge over a river. If we can cross the bridge then we can disappear into the woods on the other side. They'll never be able to find us in there after dark."
You glanced up at the sky as you spoke, taking in the dark clouds. The sun was nowhere to be seen, but you knew it had to be close to setting which meant it would be getting dark soon and the woods would provide the perfect cover.
"If all other roads out of town lead to this bridge, wouldn't they know that's where we're heading?" Joel questioned, and, shit. He was right.
Kathleen's resistance group was smart. They had to be smart if they somehow escaped that horde of infected. Joel was right. They'd know exactly where you were heading. What were you meant to do?
"We should double back. C'mon." Joel muttered, grabbing Ellie's hand and leading her back out the alley before you could stop him.
Damnit.
You had no choice but to follow, however just as Joel stepped out onto the street, a car suddenly sped around the corner, and he was hurriedly backtracking and ducking behind the dumpster once again.
The car came speeding down the street, and you quickly knelt down beside Joel, peeking out from behind the dumpster just as the car pulled over and four men with guns jumped out.
"I saw them. They're around here somewhere. Search the buildings!"
The three of you remained hidden as the men all dispersed and began sweeping the streets and buildings trying to locate you.
"Anyone else got any other bad ideas?" Ellie questioned, a hint of amusement in her tone causing Joel to glare at her.
"Just one." You muttered, taking a deep breath before you took off sprinting.
The only way Joel and Ellie were getting to the bridge was if the resistance were distracted. If they were distracted, they wouldn't go to the bridge and then Ellie and Joel would have a clear shot out.
Joel shouted your name, but you ignored him as you ran straight to the car and jumped into the driver's seat, relieved that the keys were still in the ignition. Rookie mistake.
You turned the key, bringing the car to life with a roar before you revved the engine trying to draw the resistance attention towards you. Joel and Ellie were still hidden behind the dumpster, but you could see them watching you before bullets suddenly sprayed into the side of the car.
"Time to go." You said to yourself, pushing the gear stick into drive before you put your foot down on the gas and sped off.
You could see the men running after you through the revision mirror as you drove in the opposite direction of the bridge. Gunfire rained down on the car, smashing the back window behind you.
You managed to get a few streets away before the tyres got shot out and the next thing you knew, the hood of the car was slamming into the light post on the side of the road.
The airbags went off instantly, hitting your face harder than you thought they would. Pain blossomed across your nose, and you could feel something wet trickling down your chin. You didn't need to lick your lips to know that your nose was bleeding.
"Son of a bitch." You winced, pushing the already deflating airbag down.
The hood of the car was bent up so high from the impact that you could no longer see through the front windshield, but it didn't matter because the car was dead now anyway.
Suddenly, your car door swung open, and you were met by the barrel of a gun.
Your fingers twitched, itching to reach for the rifle that was looped over your shoulder with the gun strap, but you knew that would be pointless. So, you simply closed your eyes and leant your head back against the head rest and waited for the person to pull the trigger.
Joel and Ellie were probably at the bridge by now, they would be safe, and now you got to be with Henry and Sam again. It would all be okay.
"Hold your fire!"
You opened your eyes in confusion just as the man standing in front of you stepped to the side and Kathleen’s best friend appeared behind him.
Of course, it was her. Kathleen was dead, almost all the resistance was dead, but of course this woman survived and of course she found you. Fucking typical.
She didn't say anything, instead she leant down and grabbed your arm, hauling you out of the car with more strength than you thought she had. She shoved you down onto the road and your knees hit the bitumen, hard.
The gun strap was yanked off your shoulder, your rifle falling to the ground a few metres away before Kathleen’s best friend stepped in front of you. You couldn't even remember this woman’s name, but it didn't matter, not anymore.
You glanced around, noting three men standing off to the side with handguns strapped to their thighs.
"I am so glad we both survived that horde, so I can do this." She said, drawing her pistol from her holster.
"Just kill me and get it over with." You sighed, tilting your head up towards her.
She eyed you for a second before shaking her head and holstering her pistol.
"Don't worry, I will kill you. Just not yet. I want to capture your friends first."
Your heart stopped at her words.
No. Joel and Ellie were meant to be safe. That was the whole point of you distracting the resistance so that they would be safe.
"They're not part of this. They're just random innocent people-"
"No one who's friends with a FEDRA soldier are innocent." She snapped, nostrils flaring as she glared down at you. "My men are already hunting them down as we speak."
Shit.
-
Next Chapter 
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MASTERLIST pinned to profile 
Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries 
A/N- This chapter and the next are inspired by a certain 'bridge' scene in the video game, but the rest of this story will be more based on the show (yes, I know the show is based on the game, but I'm basing this fic more from the show)
Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying this story! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments ❤️
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happilyfeatherafter · 1 month
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Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays
Back back back again, and I don't know guys, I think we should all just totally stab Caesar! Welcome back to a new fortnight of fics that I’ve read and loved recently.
If you want to find more you can see my previous rec lists here!
15 March 2024
Are You Writing From the Heart? by  @luckshiptoshore is now complete!! Congrats Luck! Full disclosure, Luck is one of my very best friends, but that just means I know not only how much of a talented fic writer she is, but also how much of her heart and soul she poured into writing this love letter to queer storytelling, season 4 Destiel as a romcom, meta text (and subtext), and finding out who you really are when society and your upbringing is fighting against you. Castiel is a ghostwriter for L.S. Shore's Supernatural novels about Neal and his brother. Caught in a storytelling rut, Cas finds himself adding the fallen angel character of Bel...what could possible go wrong? Meanwhile at his local writing coffee shop spot, he meets the handsome stranger Dean who is an up and coming standup comedian and Supernatural fanboy. They because firm friends, but that's definitely it because Cas is straight....right?! Following these two dummies as they FAIL TO USE THEIR WORDS is a total joy, as Luck's humorous and emotional writing paired with her eye for detail is so very on point, and I'm so excited more people will finally get to read this story in full.
Baker Six by komodobits because !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot tell you how goddamn excited I was to get this email notification and finally be back in 91w world, and to witness these early stages of Dean and Cas' relationship through Dean's eyes at last. This barely needs a rec because it's THEE 91w Dean, but komodobits hasn't missed a beat in getting back inside their heads and I was once again swept away by this iconic love story against the odds. Head the trigger warnings as always, this is truly on the front lines as a medic in a war zone. Baker Six was written for the very good cause of the fandom Palestine fundraiser, in support of the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. Please donate if you can!
Truth & despair by @shallowseeker was a recent discovery and such a fascinating read! It's set in a post-15x18 verse, but importantly it features a fun Sam narrative perspective that delights in his lens by...being a bit of an unsympathetic oblivious dummy (affectionate). I really appreciate a crunchy Sam characterisation and oooboy does this pay off. Dean is steeped in his grief for Cas, and Sam is oh so concerned. He reaches out to Mia Vallens to understand his own grieving, and that leads to him making a discovery...Dean's memories of Cas' death aren't what he claims happened. With the unwelcome reappearance of Chuck (he lost...didn't he?) and LITERAL sinkholes appearing in the fabric of the universe, can they figure out what's happening to save Cas and save the world? This wip plays with physics, theology and narrative fuckery in such intriguing ways. I can't wait to see how it wraps up in the next two chapters.
The Leap by @friendofcarlotta started reading this one when Tina reshared it on Leap Day...because of course. I'd actually read it before but it more than lived up to the reread. 'Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations.' Meticulously researched, emotional, heartrending and thought provoking. I highly recommend taking the leap on this fic!
See you in two weeks and OMG it's @deancaspinefest time!!!! I'm so excited *clears calendar*
Tag list under the cut - let me know if you'd like to be added to be notified of future recs!
@dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you
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sambuckylibrary · 27 days
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Week 2 of TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024
Here is a compilation of all the works made in the second week of this event. Thank you to everyone who participated this week and check them out if you haven’t already!
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Third Time's The Charm by @exbex | Rated: G | WC: 3.6K | Reunite in Wakanda, Speculation for Thunderbolts, Temporary Character Death | AO3 |
Want to Live in Your Personal Space by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: E | WC: 4.4K | Laying Low, Getting Together, Bucky Barnes Takes Care of Sam Wilson | AO3 |
Soul Stone Fic Recs by @funsized-loser | Rated: T-M | SamBucky Fic Reclist | Five Fics |
Victory Party by @funsized-loser | Rated: T | WC: 1.3K | Victory Party, Bittersweet, Let Sam Grieve His Lost Friend |
and if you go chasing rabbits by @thatmexisaurusrex | Rated: T | WC: 4.5K | Soul Stone, Getting Together (Sort of), Bittersweet | AO3 |
Acting Weird by noe3489 | Rated: N/A | WC: 1.4K | "Can you move your seat up?", Preslash, Idiots in Love | AO3 |
Never Hit Send, Never Called Again by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: N/A | WC: 3.2K | 6 Months of Ghosting, Post-Endgame, Texting |
Sam Gets Ghosted for Six Months / Bucky Loses His Nerve for Six Months by @thatmexisaurusrex | SamBucky Fanart | 6 Months of Ghosting, Bittersweet, Gifs |
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St Jude
Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5k
Pairing: Jake x Reader
Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake
Context: Y/N’s Bachelorette Party and an open bar don’t mix very well for one Jacob Thomas Kiszka.
Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.
Previous Track: The Way I Loved You
Chapter soundtrack: St Jude – Florence + the Machine
Another conversation with no destination, Another battle never won, Each side is a loser, So who cares who fired the gun? And I'm learning so I'm leaving, And even though I'm grieving, I'm trying to find a meaning. Let loss reveal it. St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes. St Jude, we were lost before she started.
(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)
Alright, let’s get into this.
_______
The Florida sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the expansive beach. Gentle waves whispered tales of excitement as the beachside bar awaited the arrival of the bachelorette and her entourage.
The atmosphere was charged with anticipation when Sam, Danny, and Jake walked through the door, greeted by a lively crowd of friends and colleagues of YN’s.
As they took in the venue, Sam couldn't help but chuckle, "Well, would you look at that? The three of us are early for once!”
Danny grinned in agreement, “Must be some kind of cosmic event."
Jake, however, remained unusually quiet, his eyes scanning the room as though searching for something elusive.
The trio made their way to the bar area, where the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations offered a lively background. Sam raised an eyebrow at Jake, sensing something brewing within his brother. "You alright, man? You're quieter than a library on a Sunday."
"Yeah, just tired,” Jake took a sip of his drink, the bitter taste doing little to soothe the turmoil within. “Probably just need more of this," he quipped, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Truth was, he had been having a hard time getting proper sleep. Eating too, but he’d blamed it on the stress of their upcoming album.
Guests mingled, sharing anecdotes and laughter as the sun set over the horizon. Yet, Jake remained on the periphery, a shadow among the revelry. His gaze occasionally flicked towards the entrance, a subconscious yearning for something unseen.
In a sudden burst of energy, YN and her bridesmaids, including Josh in his bright pink bridesman attire, finally made their grand entrance. The room erupted in cheers and applause and the air filled with an infectious effervescence.
YN, radiant in her sparkly dress, moved with a grace as she made her way through the crowd, greeting friends and well-wishers. Jake was surprised to feel his chest tightening with an indescribable unease.
As YN approached the trio, her infectious energy lit up the space around her.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, behold the miracle,” Sam playfully teased, “she has arrived, and only an hour late!”
"Very funny, Samuel,” YN chuckled, giving a light shove to his shoulder.
Danny smirked, raising his glass. "Taking punctuality lessons from Josh, YN?"
Amidst the banter, her eyes met Jake's. "Hi," she beamed at him, her tone warm and friendly, “I’m so glad you could come.”
"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," Jake replied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
As the night progressed, the sky darkened, and the party came alive with the sounds of music and champagne bottles popping open. The bachelorette, seemingly everywhere at once, danced from one group to another. Her laughter mingled with the rhythm of the music, a joyful symphony that echoed through the night.
Meanwhile, Jake found solace at the open bar, the cool glass in his hand offering a temporary escape from the overwhelming ambiance.
Each drink served as a futile attempt to drown out whatever was going on with him as he watched her from a distance. The alcohol in his empty stomach brought a temporary numbness, but the reprieve was only fleeting.
The atmosphere in the venue grew electric as the bridesmaids gathered to present YN with a playful gift—a sparkling tiara adorned with rhinestones spelling out ‘Mrs. Styles’. The crowd erupted in cheers as they crowned her, and YN, with a laugh, embraced the moment, wearing the gift with an air of mock regality.
Jake, however, felt an odd pang in his chest at the sight. He could’ve sworn the glittering tiara had been taunting him.
The night wore on and the tension within the guitarist continued to escalate amidst the pulsating beats and laughter. The bar, as per usual, turned out to be both his refuge and prison.
His gaze regularly flickered to her figure, unable to escape the magnetic pull she exerted, however much he tried to convince himself otherwise. And she looked so fucking happy.
The event carried on, and it seemed everything and anything only added fuel to the growing fire. A well-intentioned bridesmaid, unaware of the complexities that lingered beneath the surface, approached Jake to toast to the newlyweds.
A bitter taste lingered in his mouth at the girl’s words, and he thought he might just get sick all over the poor girl. It’s probably just the whiskey, right?
He somehow managed to retain composure, turning back to the drink he was nursing while the confused girl walked back to the dance floor.
It’s only a while later that a familiar voice interrupted his wandering thoughts.
“One Negroni, sugar.” Patty. “And don’t skimp on the Gin.” YN’s manager materialized to his side as she addressed the bartender. After a moment she turned to the guitarist. Leaning against the counter, she broke the silence.
“It’s nice for you to have come, Jacob.”
He clenched his jaw at her words. Yes, that was him, Jacob nice-guy Kiszka. He absolutely had not considered setting himself on fire for the past three hours.
The two of them once had a lovely friendship, if you could call it that. They never had that much in common, but they’d always shared one priority. YN’s well-being. Everything, of course, had turned sour when the rocky days of his and YN’s relationship creeped in, forcing Patty to step in more than once.
Memories of years past came back to Jake. Hushed conversations between the manager and him. Arguments behind closed doors. It’s for the best, Jacob. She won’t admit it, but she’ll eventually break if you two keep on going that way. It’s a necessary evil.
Patty had almost always been right, of course. Still, the bitter memories left his very flesh feeling raw.
“I can’t imagine it was easy,” she continued with a knowing look. Jake stared at his glass in silence. “But trust me, this, it’s good. It’s right.” she stated, “I suppose some things are just- meant to be.”Jake knew exactly what she’d meant to say. And some other are not.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Patty truly knew YN. Not the performer, not America’s sweetheart, not the tabloid-pleasing, award-winning, photo-posing girl. The true YN.
To be fair, she probably did. After all, Patty had been by YN’s side much longer than he had. She’d protected her in ways that went far beyond her role as manager. She’d cared the way a mother does. She’d wanted the fairytale for YN and, of course, with that came the prince charming, on his white fucking horse, with his stupid fucking English accent.
The chaos that clung to Jake’s very skin had most definitely clashed with that picture. Of course, the early days were fine. More than fine, in fact. Before Patty had witnessed them at their worst, she’d seen them at their best. But when the time came, when the chips were truly down, she had, of course, put YN’s interest first.
“If that make you feel better,” Patty carried on, “I’ll still look after her in London.”
Jake’s heart skipped a beat and he thought he might have misheard. He finally looked up to meet her gaze. Patty nodded, as sad understanding in her eyes, “They’ve been looking through houses, for after the honeymoon.”
Jake’s grip tightened around the glass in his hand. He might have burst out laughing had it not been so ridiculously tragic. He hadn’t even considered that an option. Why couldn’t Harry just move permanently to the US, huh? If he really was so giving and good? Why couldn’t he make that sacrifice? Asshole. And why on earth would YN ever accept to settle down with that guy to the other side of the world? Since when was she the kind to just follow someone around?
“You must be happy,” Jake eventually mumbled, taking another sip.
He couldn’t help but act as though it was all Patty’s doing. As though she had somehow planned the whole thing, the way a Bond villain does. As though she had wanted to make sure YN remained out of reach forevermore.
Maybe it was simply easier to believe that, than to accept the fact that YN, his YN, had wanted to follow her husband so far away. 4000 fucking miles away to be precise. That she had chosen all this.
“I am,” Patty replied with a gentle nod, “so long as she is, too.”
Some voices beckoned Patty back to the dance floor and with a gentle squeeze of his arm, she finally retreated. “Go easy on the whiskey, Jacob,” she uttered as she walked away.
Jake let his mind wander. A London townhouse. With a backyard and a fucking cat. An extra room on the second floor, just in case, with walls waiting to be painted in shades of pink or blue. Fucking baked beans for breakfast. And tea. Yeah, Harry probably drank tea. Harry probably wasn’t one to drown himself in booze and send the car flying off the road, glass shattering all over her skin.
YN would go to bed without worrying about where he was. Harry would be in bed before her, probably reading some posh poetry collection; reciting some Keats verses as she slid next to him.
Jake had never been one for words. It had been the delicate strumming of his guitar that filled the air when YN slid next to him in bed. Of course, that was before the stupid fighting, the tears, and the nights away. She must’ve had gotten used to sliding into an empty cold bed, with only the sound of city construction nursing her to sleep.
Now he was the one going to bed alone. Or he might as well have been. The coconut-smelling girls coming in and out of his apartment didn’t exactly constitute company worth mentioning.
 A bitter ache ran through him, and he ordered another drink.
It was around two in the morning when toasts started echoing through the venue.
 One of YN’s bridesmaids, took the stage. As she stepped forward with the microphone, the room fell into a hushed silence, the soft murmur of the ocean outside the only background noise.
She spoke eloquently, weaving tales of love and destiny, her words painted with the vibrant hues of celebration. "And here's to the happiest I've ever seen YN," she declared, raising her glass. "It's like fate itself intervened to bring her and Harry together. It's a love story for the ages, one that was truly meant to be."
Jake, further lost in the depths of intoxication, sat at the bar with clenched fists, the whiskey in his glass nearly forgotten. Each word intensified the throbbing ache within him. His gaze fixed on YN, who smiled with genuine joy, seemingly oblivious to his anguish.
As the applause erupted, drowning the room in a symphony of congratulations, Jake felt a surge frustration. No longer tethered by reason, he downed the remaining contents of his glass in one swift motion. The sharp burn of the alcohol igniting the dormant embers of his emotions.
 With an intensity that surprised even himself, Jake pushed away from the bar, his movements unsteady as he navigated through the sea of well-wishers.
Without a second thought, driven solely by a raw, unfiltered impulse, Jake ascended the small stage. The bridesmaid, caught off guard, relinquished the space, her eyes widening in surprise as Jake snatched the microphone from her hand.
The atmosphere hung heavy with a mix of tension and anticipation as Jake took center stage with a stumbling step. His jaw clenched, and a fire burned in his eyes.
"Good evening, everyone," Jake began, his squinting gaze momentarily lost in the sea of faces before him. His words slurred slightly, a testament to the alcohol coursing through his veins.
"As some of you may know, I am the ex-boyfriend and now dear, dear friend of the bride-to-be,” he paused for a second, the words making him nauseous. “Anyway, where was I?" he chuckled, the sound tinged with a bitter undertone. "Right. Y/N. What can be said about her? I mean, she truly is something, isn't she?" A nervous ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, uneasy with the unpredictability of the guitarist's unfiltered words.
Sam and Danny exchanged concerned glances, realizing that this impromptu speech had the potential to become quite a spectacle. "She's full of- surprises, a real freak, if you know what I m—" someone from the crowd attempted to interject, but Daniel swiftly got on stage, a diplomatic smile plastered on his face. He gently grasped Jake's shoulder, a silent plea for restraint.
"Come on, man," Daniel murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Let's go get some fresh air, huh?"
Jake brushed off the boy’s attempt with a dismissive wave, his focus resuming on the microphone. "No, no, no, it's okay," he insisted, his words carrying a touch of defiance. "I'm just- joking around. That's what you do at a bachelorette party, isn’t it? Recount the future bride's past adventures,” he giggled bitterly, looking to the crowd, “and boy, you would not believe—"
"Jake, let's go," Sam intervened, his presence adding a sense of urgency to the situation. The crowd's gaze shifted from Jake to Sam, to Danny, and a hushed murmur swept through the venue. Jake, however, seemed caught in a trance, his eyes seeking YN’s figure in the crowd.
Sam and Danny attempted to guide him off the stage. "Hey! Let go of me," he protested, swaying unsteadily in a mix of intoxication and defiance. "Come on, I'm just joking around!” he resisted, his hand still holding tightly onto the microphone, “Sammy, come on, you, of all people would know what I'm talking about. I mean, you did catch us fucking a couple times, didn't you?" A collective gasp swept through the crowd in audible shock.
The atmosphere shifted from celebratory to uncomfortable in the blink of an eye. Jake's words hung in the air, leaving those in attendance in a state of stunned silence.
Before Jake could utter another word, Josh leaped onto the stage. Swift and decisive, he forcefully grabbed the microphone. The screeching feedback filled the room, momentarily drowning out any further words from Jake. The abrupt halt cut through the tension and the venue filled with an uncertain hush.
Sam and Danny, each with a firm grip on Jake, guided him away from the unfolding chaos, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration. "Alright, time for bed," Sam asserted, his tone firm as they led Jake out the door.
Back on the stage, an uncomfortable silence lingered. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Josh, perhaps for the first time ever, found himself dumbfounded with a microphone in his hand and spotlight shining on him.  
 His gaze met YN’s. Clearly shocked, she stood completely still. Patty at her side, was offering a comforting presence by rubbing her shoulders. He searched for words to fill the void left by his brother's reckless outburst.
"Alrighty then,” Josh quipped, attempting to inject a dose of humor into the tense atmosphere, “seems like my brother has, in true Kiszka fashion, overindulged in the open bar." A few chuckles broke through the awkward silence, and he offered a sheepish grin, acknowledging the awkwardness that lingered. "You know how it is with rockstars, always a bit- unpredictable." The crowd responded with a mixture of laughter and relieved smiles, grateful for the comedic relief.
As Josh said a few more words, the music gradually resumed, filling the venue with lively beats once again. The party mood, momentarily disrupted by Jake's impulsive antics, slowly rekindled.
____
A few yards away from the vibrant venue, Sam and Danny grappled with Jake, who continued to argue drunkenly, his resistance growing more erratic with each step. The trio moved further away, the rhythmic waves providing a somber soundtrack to the guitarist's inebriated protests.
Eventually, Jake crumpled to the ground. His suit, now adorned with wet sand, presented a testament to his unwillingness to cooperate.
Danny sighed, glancing at Sam who, frustrated, chose to distance himself from the situation for a moment. Few things could truly irritate the youngest Kiszka, and the disruption of a good party just happened to be one of them.
Left alone with Jake, Danny stood silently by his sitting figure, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.
Sam returned after a brief respite, holding a glass filled with seawater. "That ought to sober him up," he declared, tossing the contents of the glass in Jake's face.
 "Hey, what the fuck?" Jake sputtered, lurching to his feet abruptly. His venomous gaze settled on his younger brother, and in an instant, the atmosphere shifted. Jake, fueled by alcohol-induced bravado, was in a fighting mood.
Sam, unyielding, met Jake's gaze with a stern expression. "Just calm down, Jacob,” he urged, his tone firm but laced with brotherly concern, “You're making a fool of yourself.”
The stars overhead witnessed the unfolding drama, casting a gentle glow on the sand as the two youngest grappled with the complexities their bandmate’s emotions.
Jake stood defiantly, wet sand clinging to his clothes.
"Come on, man” Daniel's voice cut through the night, firm but gentle, “you have to know you were way out of line." He always served as the voice of reason, an anchor attempting to steady a ship tossed in turbulent waters.
In that moment, however, Jake couldn't help but despise the drummer's calm demeanor. He only wished for a spark, an ignition to match the wildfire within him, and his bandmate's rationality only seemed to fuel his own frustration.
 "And what the fuck would you know about that, huh?" Jake spat with anger. His words edged with bitterness as he got up in Daniel’s face, "Always playing the calm, collected one, like you're above it all. Just back the fuck off." The night echoed with the strained conversation, the waves crashing against the shore.
Jake, fueled by a concoction of alcohol and resentment, wanted a release, a confrontation to validate the storm within him.
Daniel sighed, a weary acknowledgment of the futility of the situation. "We're just trying to help. You don’t want to do this."
Jake scoffed. Feeling the weight of his own frustration, he muttered in defeat, "Whatever.” The sand crunched beneath his shoes as he turned away, a solitary figure against the backdrop of a restless sea, “Just go back inside."
"Oh,” Sam sneered, “if you think we're about to leave you unsupervised after this shitshow, you are dead wr—"
"You should get back inside," someone interrupted from behind them. Jake's face dropped, recognizing the voice instantly. Sam and Danny turned around to see YN standing a few feet away with her arms crossed. An unreadable expression was etched on her face.
Sam and Danny exchanged glances. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog that refused to dissipate.
 Sam sent YN a inquiring look. Are you sure? They respected YN's judgment, yet the worry lingered like a silent undercurrent beneath the surface. They were all too aware of Jake’s unpredictability when he drank too much.
She nodded wordlessly, her gaze shifting to Jake’s back. Her eyes, once filled with laughter and joy, now held a depth of emotion that was difficult to decipher. Sam and Danny eventually walked past her, offering apologetic smiles. They headed back into the bar, leaving Jake and YN alone on the moonlit beach.
The distant murmur of the party and the sound of waves crashing against the shore served as a backdrop to their silent standoff. The night held its breath, caught between the residue of a disrupted celebration and the muted tension.
With his back still turned, Jake closed his eyes.
The stillness was finally broken by YN, unable to bear the quiet any longer. "Aren't you gonna say anything?” Her tone was sharp, a mixture of bitterness and anger lacing each word, “you seemed to have a lot to say back there."
Jake flinched, the gravity of his actions washing over him like the freezing tide. Slowly, he turned around to face her. There she stood, arms crossed against the night chill, her hair gently swaying in the wind. Goosebumps adorned the delicate skin of her arms as she seemed to shiver against the breeze. The moonlight cast a melancholic glow on her features, framing a face etched with disappointment. Caught off guard by her candor, Jake struggled to find the right words.
"I—" he began, but before he could complete the thought, she sprung towards him.
"I cannot believe you would do this to me," she spat, her words cutting through the night air like shards of glass. A forceful push against Jake’s chest caused him to stumble backward, "you, fucking asshole!" The sting of her words hung in the air as she continued to unleash her frustration.
Jake, attempted to downplay the situation with a dismissive sigh. "Come on, no one will remember a thing in the morning," he remarked, reaching out to grab her wrists to stop the damage.
YN struggled against his grip, her eyes ablaze with a mix of anger and hurt. Feeling the weight of her gaze, Jake's eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, he saw the hurt reflected in her eyes. "Come on, it's a just party, for Christ's—"
"That's not the issue here!" she asserted, pulling away from him. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? How could you pull that crap?" Her voice wavered slightly, and he could feel the weight of her hurt settling in his chest. "Why even bother coming?" she shook her head in disbelief, "If you were just going to—"
"Well, it's not exactly like we'll have that many opportunities to see each other,” he spat, the bitterness in his words slicing through the night air like venom, “once you officially become Mrs. Styles."
"Yes, I am getting married!" she yelled in frustration. "I know that! And I tried doing what I could to make it easy on you, but—" she paused, her words hanging in the air like a heavy curtain, "Honestly? I don't even know why I should anymore. We broke up ages ago—"
"Yeah, and whose fault was that?" he interjected, his tone accusing and filled with a bitterness that had long festered in the shadows of their past. The charged atmosphere between them crackled, the pain of their shared memories surfacing like ghosts in the moonlit night.
YN's reaction cut through Jake, the hurt evident in her downturned gaze. In that moment, regret gnawed at him, his impulsive words now a bitter aftertaste. He knew well that their breakup had been entirely his doing, fueled by demons of his own making. But the anger, amplified by the drink, had led him down a senseless path.
 “Believe it or not," she stated, "things were as difficult for me as they may have been for you.” Her voice was a mix of hurt and frustration, "I honestly thought we'd outgrown all of that. But- you—saying that shit about me, in front of my friends, my colleagues, m-my future stepfamily? What is wrong with you? That’s just—” she shook her head, “do you really despise me that much?" he flinched at her words, guilt settling heavy on his conscience.
"Of course, not—" he started.
"Do you hate me so much that you can't stand, let it only be, the thought of me finally being at peace?" Her words pierced through him, each syllable carrying a vulnerability that echoed in the stillness of the night.
"No, that's not it—" he tried to explain, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between them.
"Well then, what the fuck is it, huh?" she demanded, frustration evident in her voice. "A few months ago, everything was fine, we were fin-"
"You wouldn't get it!" he snapped.
"Well, I sure as hell won't get it if you refuse to talk to me," she retorted in exasperation. Almost six years down the line and they were still stuck, facing the same issues they did on day one.
Despite his strong front, Jake remained silent, the weight of his emotions stifling any coherent response. "Jake—” she continued, calmly, “you—this past couple of years, us- managing to be- to get along, it’s been so good, I’d missed it so much," she confessed, stepping closer until her chest touched his. Her eyes sought his, "I’d missed you so much, but this? This angry, bitter jackass? I don't want him in my life,” she scowled. Her words cut through him like shards of glass, each syllable a painful reminder of the person he had become in that moment. “And yes, I know, it probably sucks having an ex get married first but- Jesus Christ, Jacob, grow the fuck up. We're friends, aren't we?"
He clenched his jaw, his throat tightening as he struggled to contain the whirlwind of emotions. Stepping away, he attempted to shield the tears that threatened to escape.
“Aren’t we?” she repeated, her voice breaking. A fragile silence lingered in the night.
"Just—" he finally muttered, his voice laced with a bitterness that mirrored the bitterness within him, “just go back to your fucking party,"
The sadness on her face slowly morphed back into anger. She gulped, her resolve finding new strength.
"Gladly," she spat, turning on her heels to walk back to the bar.
He clenched his jaw, hands on his hips, frustration and self-loathing churning within him as he watched her retreating figure. In a futile attempt to reclaim some semblance of control, he shouted out, "Fuck you!"
She didn’t bother turning around, but without missing a beat, she shouted back. "Well, fuck you too!"
____
Jake sat on the sand alone. The weight of the night’s events settled heavily on his shoulders as the alcohol-induced fog slowly dissipated. The crashing waves seemed to echo the turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" a voice erupted, and Jake didn't bother looking up, recognizing the tone of his twin brother. Josh sat down next to him, a mixture of frustration and concern etched on his face. "An asshole, too."
"Yeah, right," Jake scoffed, bitterness coloring his words. "I'm the asshol—"
"She doesn't know," Josh cut him off, gently. The words hung in the air: a heavy truth finally spoken aloud. Josh, with his intuitive understanding, had always read his twin better than anyone.
"Please," Jake eventually muttered, his voice low and strained. "Of course, she does."
"How could she?" Josh retorted; frustration evident in his expression. Jake had watched as YN got in the stable, healthy relationship he had failed to give her. And he had sat patiently as she stepped towards the life of a married woman. Yet, through it all, he had remained silent, failing to express the one thing she’d needed to hear.
"Yeah, well," Jake mumbled, eventually, clearing his throat as he stared off into the distance, "It's not like I can do anything about it now."
Josh remained silent. His brother had a point. The opportunity to come clean had passed, and the consequences of his silence weighed heavily.
"Come on," Josh said finally, getting up on his feet and brushing the sand off his suit. "I'll drive you back to the hotel."
"You're a bridesman,” Jake said, “isn't it your job to be here?"
 "My job” Josh stated, “was to make sure everything went smoothly for Y/N, which I miserably failed to do tonight, thanks to you, brother. Now, come on," he held his hand out, a silent invitation, "I'll drive back here once you're in bed."
Jake chewed on his lower lip, his gaze fixed on the sand beneath him. He finally asked hesitantly, "Shouldn't I go and apologize first?"
Josh chuckled sadly, a knowing expression on his face. It was always impossible to stay mad at his twin for long. "It's probably better to give her some space right now."
____
"Alright," Josh called out, his eyes on his phone as he texted Sam, informing him he was on his way back. The ride to the hotel had been quiet and Jake had collapsed on the hotel bed the second they arrived. "I put aspirin and water on the table, your phone is charging and—" he stopped abruptly as he heard a muffled sound, his eyes lifting from the screen.
"I—" Jake muttered shakily, the word barely escaping his closed throat, as Josh approached his bedside. "I just- I don't know what to do," he managed to get the words out of his closed throat.
Josh didn't need more to understand what that meant, his heart breaking at his brother’s unusual display of vulnerability. He knew the pain that must’ve been tearing him apart. The admission hung in the air, a poignant acknowledgment of the emotional turmoil that swirled within him.
Jake had had his fair share of flings after their breakup, and he had expected YN doing the same. After all, she was nothing short of incredible, and admirers were bound to line up at her door. But marriage? That was a different realm entirely. Marriage meant forever. Marriage was the final nail in the coffin of what they once shared.
Josh sat silently at the side of the bed as Jake, exhausted both physically and emotionally, slowly succumbed to sleep.
“Me neither, Jakey,” Josh eventually whispered, pulling a blanket over his twin, “me neither.”
Next Track: All You Had To Do Was Stay
Series Masterlist
Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx
Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.
Taglist
@aintthatapity
@sinarainbows
@vanfleeter 
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Wrapping up the year of 2023! Can you believe? I want to say a great big thank you to the writers on this list for providing such rich stories to get lost in in this whirlwind of a year. I wish I could have read more.
You lovelies know what to do, heed all the warnings, read what you like and share what you love!!
Happy Reading!
2023 reading list | fic rec masterlist
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
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Bucky Barnes
To Have and To Hold series by @indyluckycharlie Chapters 6-9 Love and obligation. How can you serve one and still save the other? Mafia AU. Warnings: Dark themes. Threats and portrayals of violence, including murder and assault. There are references to but no depictions of noncon. Violent and abusive acts are directed at the reader, but not by Bucky. There is also betrayal, controlling/abusive behavior, death of loved ones/main characters, grief, LOTS of angst, a little bit of fluff, nonexplicit s.mut and sexual references.
Hold Me Down by @flordeamatista Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night. bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader warnings: best friends to lovers, ranch hand Bucky who works for reader's family, fluff, angst, smut (riding Bucky) soft kisses, nickname- Sweetheart
Hopelessly Devoted by @firefly-in-darkness You visited the Harvest Festival and your boyfriend, James 'Bucky' Barnes surprised you. Warnings: none, fluffy lovey dovey stuff.
Wild Flowers at Sunset by @princessmisery666 Bucky uses an inopportune time to let you know how he feels about you. Warnings/Genres/Troupes: confident reader, Bucky being cocky (that’s a warning), sex work mentioned, prelude to smut, love confession. 
Insatiable by @jobean12-blog Bucky will never tolerate any harm coming to you and he will do anything to protect you. Vampire AU Warnings: soft sweetness, mentions of b-l-oo-d, fi-g-e-r-in-g, p-in-v, Vampire!Bucky bc he's just so hot lol
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Dean Winchester
Stay series by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior Parts 1 & 2 Y/N knows what she's doing is wrong, but she doesn't want to let it go. Warnings: Cheating. (warning provided in each chapter)
Run Away With Me by @deanwinchesterswitch Timing is everything. Warnings: None
I Promised, Too by @deanwinchesterswitch A promise given is a promise kept. Warnings: Language; Canon typical injuries; Implied sex
When the Stars Love You by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior Dean belongs in the starlight. Warnings/Explicit 18+: Nothing really. Implied smut, angst, fluff.
Home by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior Dean comes home. Warnings: None. Major fluff. Angst if you squint.
Wish by @thoughtslikeaminefield You want it to be love — but it isn’t. You want him — but you can’t have him. So you don’t want anything. Warnings: sepia-toned angst ™ @boondoctorwho, not my typical Dean, mentions of alcohol, adult language, mentions of sexual activity
Meeting In the Darkness by @princessmisery666 You forgive Dean for what he did when he had black eyes but he can’t forgive himself. Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, blood, implied torture, Demon!Dean, MOC!Dean, unresolved angst.
Get Stuffed by @zepskies Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks. Tags/Warnings: Fluff, innuendo, tinge of angst
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Sam Winchester
Sam is Wearing Green Today by @princessmisery666 Purely self-indulgent fluffy Sam appreciation. Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff. 
Run Away With Me by @deanwinchesterswitch He can’t let go. Warnings: None
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Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw & Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Live in my memory, You'll always be there by @princessmisery666 Not long after moving to San Diego with your fiancé, Jake, he’s declared missing in action. The Dagger Squad rallies around you as you grieve his loss, and you grow closer to one particular member of the team than you ever imagined. Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, character death mentioned, grief, fluff, unexpected love, smut, loss of parents (mentioned).  
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Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Don't Speak series by @hoboal87 In the Spring of 1905 the Winchesters, working a case in London, set the sights on Y/N, and decide to make her theirs. Series Warnings: *Rape/Non-Con, Dub-Con, Historical AU, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, Wincest, smut, Stockholm Syndrome, violence, humiliation/degradation, sexual assault. Assume all warnings will apply to each part. Imagine: You Are Dean's One Exception by @zepskies Request: ...what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that...
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months
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A Place to Grieve
Pairing: Aragorn x fem!reader (Aragorn and Strider are used interchangeably)
Summary: After losing a loved one, Strider offers you a place to grieve. 1.5k+ words
Warnings: loss of unspecified loved one, angst, fluff, Sindarin, canon divergent, spoilers for The Fellowship of the Ring
A/N: I’ve never written for Strider before but I really want a hug from him, so this is completely self-indulgent. Honestly, this weekend has been pretty rough and I was really unmotivated to write until I started this. I hope it’s okay and if you have any feedback please leave a comment or drop it in my inbox!🤍
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“… is gone.”
Aragorn only hears the end of Gandalf’s news, but his sad smile and comforting hand on your shoulder are more than enough to show it is bad news. You shake your head in a small motion, blinking quickly before whispering something and stepping back.
This is no time to mourn. No place to grieve.
Turning away from Gandalf, you lock eyes with Strider. Nodding, you silently tell him you are fine. However, Strider is a good friend and a better ranger. Lying to him is not only impossible, it is unwise.
Gandalf leads you and the hobbits at the front of the company, sending concerned looks your way whenever you near him. Frodo and Sam distract you with stories of The Shire, and though you try to let your mind drift, you can only think of the gnawing sense of loss rooting itself deep in your chest. Learning of your loss, it feels as though you have lost a piece of yourself, a portion of your soul ripped away with hidden mourning.
Behind you, Strider ignores Legolas as he watches you. Your distant expression and sorrow-filled gaze worry him.
“An inn!” Sam exclaims. “We wish to stop for the night, do we not?”
Gandalf sighs, smiling as he gestures toward the city. Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin waste no time as they race toward the first sign of civilisation in countless miles. Legolas taps your shoulder kindly as he steps around you. After he falls into step with Gandalf, you take a shaky breath and close your eyes tightly, burying your rising emotions. Strider’s hand meets your arm, gently tugging you toward him. You look toward him but not at him, concerned you may fall apart if he asks what plagues your mind. Shaking your head, you pull away from him and follow Gandalf.
“Mell nîn,” Strider mutters under his breath. “Your heart calls out yet your mind silences it.”
Knowing that he is not always a good communicator, yet unwilling to risk losing your camaraderie and closeness, Strider often talks to you when you do not hear. Tonight, sensing the sadness deep in your being, he craves your words more than ever.
✨🗡️✨🗡️✨
Your breaths grow shallow and your eyes glassy before you stand, jostling your chair as you rush out of the dark pub. Strider follows you immediately, ignoring Gandalf’s soft laugh and guarantee that Strider can handle it. Gandalf knows that the hobbits and Legolas have grown attached to you; he has as well, but he is also the only one to notice your unique relationship with the ranger and rightful king of Gondor.
Strider says your name as he moves before you, raising a hand to stop you. You obey, halting as you wipe your freshly fallen tears off your cheeks.
Wishing to speak, comfort you, and welcome your words, Strider attempts to talk but falls speechless at the brokenness hiding behind your eyes, being slowly revealed as your tears continue.
“Excuse me,” you whisper, continuing around Strider.
He repeats your name, stopping you again. “I am sorry.”
“Why do you apologise?”
“Whatever news you have received ails you.”
Tightening your jaw, you move away from Strider again. Talking about it makes it real, solidifies it within your mind and heart and makes it impossible to hold yourself together.
“Please do not make me use force to comfort you, meleth nîn,” Strider pleads.
“You have no rule here, my king. There is nothing you can do to make me answer your questions,” you point out angrily.
“Then do as you are, take your anger out upon me, but do not run from me in your flee from feeling,” Strider answers, a mix of care and exasperation in his words.
The tears increase in both number as intensity as you lower your head. Releasing the first sob, you reach out for Strider, surprised when he pulls you into his embrace. His cloak grows damp under your cheek, his hand cradling your head to his chest.
“There is no shame in responding in this way, in being who you are,” Strider comforts quietly.
You don’t notice Strider move, but when you raise your head again, you find you are tucked between buildings. The dark corner provides the privacy you need to be honest with Strider.
Repeating Gandalf’s news, you tell Strider that someone you love is gone. His slow exhale accompanying his kind arms circling you makes you feel safe enough to accept it.
“I am sorry, mell nîn. Your loss will be felt through the miles and the centuries, I am sure.”
“This is no time to grieve,” you tell him. Hearing your thoughts aloud makes them seem inappropriate; as if someone so special is unworthy of your tears.
“I know what you mean,” Strider says, interrupting your thoughts. “This is a trying time and the company has a long journey ahead of us, but there is no good place, no good time to grieve.”
“Right here is acceptable,” you whisper, looking up at Strider.
His gaze drops, his arms still holding you against his chest. Though his words are few, they are never without meaning. The sudden silence during such a moment alerts you to your mistake.
“My apologies, my king,” you mutter, attempting to pull back.
“Then here you will grieve, will mourn, whenever you need,” Strider insists, refusing to let you retreat into yourself once more.
“But, my king-“
“I am no king,” Strider begins.
“Not yet,” you interject.
He smiles down at you, and the world seems to brighten. “But what kind of king would I be to deny a lady a shoulder on which to cry? To rest as she travels, as she experiences gains and losses with no other consistent place to rest?”
“You have responsibilities, as do I. And neither provide time for sadness. The grief will come later.”
“Your grief is not to be set aside. You are not a burden to our company, if that is your concern. Feeling nothing is not an option, meleth nîn.”
You nod, leaning closer to Strider.
“Thank you.”
“Mell,” Strider repeats quietly.
✨🗡️✨🗡️✨
It hits when it is darkest, a deep ache with no evident relief. Moving through the darkness, you approach Strider’s side, his watchful eyes gazing into the night.
“Strider?” you ask quietly.
He wordlessly opens his arms toward you, allowing you to rest against his shoulder as his cloak closes around you.
“Does it stop hurting?”
“Slowly. Soon the memories will be a welcomed kindness. A reminder of good times rather than an amplifier of the bad," he replies.
Nodding, Strider’s comfort, warmth, and kindness lull you to sleep. You wake tucked against his side and well-rested.
✨🗡️✨🗡️✨
After a week of sleeping at Strider’s side, you are not as sad as often as before. The emptiness has made way for early acceptance, though some moments still seem hopeless and void of all happiness. Your life will never be the same following the loss of another’s life, but you must continue living rather than stall in the moments of memories.
“Why are you so kind to me?” you ask Strider as he leads you to his guarding position.
“You are good. Everyone good deserves kindness,” Strider replies simply.
“The way in which you treat me differs from your actions toward Gandalf and the hobbits.”
“They do not hold a piece of nin hûr.”
Strider’s eyes are on you in the dim forest light.
“Why do you do that; speak in Sindarin, when you know I do not understand?”
Strider’s hands rise to pull you close, his fingers ghosting over your jaw.
“Because words are not easy for me. You mean more to me than words can express,” Strider admits quietly, his voice soft against the rustling leaves.
“Your hûr?”
“My heart.”
“Mell nín?”
“You.”
“So you have said,” you reply with a kind laugh. “But what am I to you?”
“My dear,” Strider says, dipping his head to kiss your forehead. “My beloved, my sweet.”
Smiling up at Strider, you repeat, “You hold my entire hûr, my king.”
“Ara.” At your confused hum, Strider smiles and translates, “King.”
“Aragorn,” you say, pulling yourself closer to him.
“Rían nîn,” he replies. “My queen.”
“Me?” Strider nods, pressing his head against your neck as your arms loop over his shoulders. “That is why you are so kind to me.”
“I have wished to love you since you joined the company. Since you joined my side.”
“What should I call you?”
“Call me whatever you wish, as long as I am yours.”
Moving your head to Strider’s shoulder, you return home.
“Thank you for allowing me to grieve. For welcoming me, my brokenness.”
“You are not broken,” Strider insists, standing as he cups your cheeks in his strong hands. “Your dark nights, your grief and mourning, do not define you. Your love, kindness, and joy with your friends do.”
“My heart, my love, my joy are yours.”
Strider falls silent again, pulling you against him as his lips meet yours in the dark forest. Though you miss those you have lost, Strider holds you close and leads you through the dark and the light of mourning.
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olsenmyolsen · 8 months
Text
Lots of Love
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master list
dark master list
Post AoU (WandaNat)
Word Count: 2.9K
TW: Mentions of Hydra, Ultron, Pietro Death
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It has been four months since Pietro Maximoff was killed by Ultron.
In those months, no one had grieved more than his sister, Wanda Maximoff.
Between leaving the only home she'd ever known in the worst state it had ever been in—the culture shock of America. Testing, training, and above all else, trying to live free once again... it hasn't exactly been easy for the young woman.
Sure, the team, The Avengers, have tried to be there for Wanda. Steve acting as a mentor and trainer for her abilities. Sam there for a good laugh when he wasn't tracking down leads for Steve's missing friend. Clint becoming somewhat of an Uncle with trips to the farm to see little fat Nathaniel and is always there to help with any questions regarding her newfound home.
For instance, a few weeks after Clint got Wanda her first-ever phone, she was confused by words and phrases being thrown at her.
"Clint." Wanda, with her accent still heavy, approached the man who had an arm around his wife as the two sat in the living room watching some reality trash. Wanda secretly stayed up late and watched the night before. "Sam texted the chat and said, lol,what does this mean?"
"It means lots of love," Clint responded without a second thought, earning a slap on the arm from Laura. "Not it doesn't." "Yes, it does." He countered. "Wanda." Laura sat up. "It used to mean lots of love. But everyone uses it to mean laugh out loud nowadays."
While Laura's explanation correct. It confused the witch even more. She looked at her phone and back to Laura. "So when I wrote, Sam Clint mentioned he was going to work on the house today and show me how to tend the horses, but all he's done is sit on the couch for the last two hours. Is this normal? He thought I was joking?" Wanda states, deeply unaware of how insulting the text sounded to none other than Clint's one good ear.
However, Laura laughs hard as Wanda stands beside the couch with an awkward feeling around her.
Clint musters up the strength within him to let Wanda know that, yes, Sam thought she was joking and that maybe she doesn't have to be Avengers-level observant when on the farm.
"Anyways, Birdman clearly doesn't understand the amount of work I do, but he will during training on Monday." Clint winks at Wanda, who shrugs. "I guess." Wanda still a little lost answers, honestly.
"Here, why don't you come sit, and I'll get started on those chores." Clint has Wanda take his place while Laura gets ready to start lunch. "You okay, though, right?" The guy with the weapon choice of two strings and stick asks, earning a nod from Wanda.
Truth be told, Wanda was doing better today. She just kept getting lost in her thoughts. She was excited to be an Avenger. To help others. Fight for the greater good. Save people from a cold, abused life she had while with Hydra. But training was exhausting. Especially when her powers grew more and more each day, that just meant pushing herself further and further.
Sometimes it worked. Like when she could lift and move Steve several feet in the air.
But there were still setbacks. And those hurt Wanda. It made her feel small, like no one would trust her if she accidentally threw Vision just a little too hard into a stack of mats one more time.
Thankfully, Vision has an indestructible head.
But you see what I mean? These last four months haven't exactly been easy for the young woman.
"You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Laura asks as she enters the room again.
There was the last little kicker—the Black Widow.
Ever since the red jacket incident, the only women on the team haven't said, well.. anything to each other. But the two women knew why. Natasha intimidated the younger woman, while Wanda's powers frightened and angered Natasha.
Years of trauma and memories were pulled back to the front of Natasha's mind in a snap, and it destroyed her. Days after the fall of Sokovia. No one saw Natasha.
Days turned into two weeks before Steve was surprised to find her alone in the vast training room before sunrise. Knuckles and feet bloodied. However, she still didn't talk. And when she did, it was in Russian. Something the old man didn't know.
The only person on the team to know Russian. To be able to communicate with Natasha was playing host to the enemy from three weeks prior.
And then the witch was back in the compound. Everyone greeted her. Except one. Everyone showed her around. Except one. Everyone apologized and tried to make conversation about the rise and fall of Ultron. Except two. Tony and Natasha. But Stark is a story for a different day.
So those weeks turned into months, and Wanda and Natasha could be in the same room, but whenever the younger one opened her mouth, the older one would leave, not without a glare or longing stare of curiosity. Those became normal.
So when the question was asked. "You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Wanda started praying to everyone and anything that Natasha Romanoff wouldn't kill her.
_
Wanda and Clint step into the smaller gym reserved for Wanda's training. "Don't sweat it. I talked to her." Clint tried to reassure the enhanced individual, but what he says does the opposite. "Thanks, Clint." She manages to reply through a panic hidden beneath her smile. "Should I warm up-"
"You're late!" The booming voice of Natasha scares Wanda and Clint. "In the future, Clint, if I say I want Wanda here at 7, what time do you think I mean?" Clint rubs the back of his neck, realizing his fuck up. "6:30." Wanda gives Clint a crazy look as he hides his face. "So she's late," Natasha emphasizes. "You can go."
"But I thought I would..." His voice trails off as Natasha raises her eyebrow. She's in a mood already, and Clint doesn't want to end up on the inside of a punching bag. Again. "Good luck, kid. I'll see you later." Clint frantically leaves Wanda without any protection.
"Alright. Stretch. Let's go." Natasha doesn't give Wanda any time before she's already in the middle of the floor doing a pose Wanda has never seen before.
Wanda tried her best to follow suit, but she can't bend like Natasha can. Natasha knows this, too. For the last month since Natasha got the word she'd be training Maximoff, she started doing expert-level training poses three times a day. Even on the days when she was busy, she would find a way to excuse herself to train.
So, as Nat does her moves flawlessly, Wanda falters at every step. Making a smile crack onto the Russians' face. So the little witch needs more help than she thought. Excellent.
"Am I really going to be a pretzel when I'm doing stealth missions, or is this just to punish me?" Wanda complained 45 minutes after Clint left. "It's not called the pretzel." Natasha quickly warns, making Wanda roll her eyes. "Doing stretches like this will make you more nimble." Natasha stops doing her pose and lets out a big breath before standing up in front of Wanda, lying on her back.
"You know I can move things with my mind, right?"
Now Natasha rolls her eyes. "Using your powers won't mean anything if you can't fight or escape a situation using your body. Get up."
Wanda groans, completely tired at Natasha, who hasn't even broken a sweat. She knows I'm not a widow, right? I can't just do what she does? Wanda thinks to herself as she follows Natasha across the room.
However, Wanda goes from thinking about all the stupid poses she just did, to pretzels, to watching Natasha. She walks with pressure on the front of her feet. It makes her silent, Wanda realizes. Wanda's eyes move up Natasha's legs covered by fabric, but the toned muscle underneath can still be seen. The higher Wanda goes, the more her breathing picks up.
Natasha walks in front of Wanda, aware of the wandering eyes behind her. She can sense them from miles away if she wanted to. But here, right now, Natasha feels Wanda's eyes scanning down her back to her butt. Again.
Stop staring
Wanda lifts her face to see Natasha stopping and turning to face her with a smile. Those thoughts weren't Wanda's own. Were they Nat's?!
Green
Wanda goes to open her mouth, but Natasha stops her with a punch thrown to her hip. Not using ALL of her strength, but the Russian could've been kinder.
"Ow fuck!" Wanda screams, using her favorite American curse word. "What the hell?!" She lifts her eyes up to see Natasha with a smirk on her face in a fighting pose.
She's such a poser, Wanda thinks as the pain in her hip subsides.
"You need to be ready at all times. Observant always." Natasha takes a step towards Wanda, who puts up her hands. "So instead of staring at my ass, you could've been assessing threats!" Wanda's cheeks go red. She was caught. And those thoughts she heard were Nat's. Shit.
"Oh please, you're not the first person to ever look." Natasha snarks, dismissing Wanda's embarrassment. "Now, will you try to train or think about me some more? I can do both. Can you?" This makes Wanda want to fight. She doesn't like being called out for a mistake like this one. She didn't even mean to stare at her ass that second time! (She did.)
Plus, seeing Natasha saying this many words in this close proximity is throwing Wanda for a loop. If she didn't know any better, Wanda would think Natasha was being friendly.
"No powers. Remember." Wanda nods. "You should speak up when I talk to you, Maximoff." Wanda glares daggers that bounce off the redhead. "Yes. No powers."  Natasha smirks. This the first time she's been able to get under the skin of the person that sent her spiraling.
After circling each other once more, Wanda tries to make the first move. But Natasha was counting on it. When Wanda lunges forward, she fully extends her arm—mistake number one. Romanoff grabs Wanda's bicep and pulls her off balance before Nat sweeps Wanda's legs, causing the younger woman to fall face-first on the mat.
"Wow. Are you sure you've been training with Steve?" Natasha mocks with a smile. Whether it was her intention or not, Wanda is getting upset. But when her face, back, and ass land on the mat in succession, followed by mocks, Wanda thought she went from being upset to pissed.
It didn't help that every time the Widow got the upper hand on Wanda, she could hear Natasha's thoughts.
Red jacket
Sloppy
Should've grabbed here instead of here
"You're trying to fail."
Green eyes
She can't rely on her powers
"You're made of marble."
Like I said. Wanda thought she was pissed. So when she got up from the mat quicker than Natasha anticipated and charged, Natasha couldn't do anything but take the hit as the two fell to the mat again. Wanda quickly holding Natasha's hands above her head. "Finally!" Natasha exclaimed through the tiny amount of pain she felt. "It's about time you got that emo anger back."
She immediately made this a lesson that Wanda failed to see it was. Even though Wanda used all that she had without her powers, Natasha didn't flinch. 'Emo Anger.'
For the multi-hundredth time since entering the compound, Wanda was hurt. It was written on her face. Natasha could look up and see it but wasn't sure what to do. For the second time since the flight back from Sokovia, Natasha saw Wanda as something other than the opposition. She saw something else. But first...
She was about to see Wand cry.
That chipped away at the rough exterior Natasha had built up since they met. "Hey Wand-"
The tight grip Wanda had on Natasha's wrists melted away as the more petite woman started to cry. Her body sliding off of Natasha's, landing on her side. Natasha quickly and without thinking wraps her arms around Wanda, sending jolts of electricity through their bodies.
It was then Natasha realized that, yes, she was terrified of Wanda's power but not Wanda. For the last four months, Natasha had been observing Wanda. At first, it was a way to protect her team members from an outside threat, but it slowly and somehow became a crush that hadn't made itself known till this second.
As Natasha held Wanda close, the witch cried more. She was mentally tired and physically exhausted. She was sure Natasha hated her even more now, and all she wanted was her brother. She wanted to speak to him one last time. Tell him that he was loved. That her favorite shows weren't the same without his complaints. She wanted to see him.
But here she was, lying on the floor, crying into the arms of the Black Widow.
"Let it out, Wanda... It's okay.." Wanda, through her calming tears, heard the sweet murmuring of Natasha. And through more sniffles and confused thoughts, Wanda couldn't help but say: "Do you hate me?" Natasha peered over Wanda's face.
Green eyes
Pink lips
Wanda's sad-looking eyes opened wider at the sound of the other woman's thoughts. "I don't hate you, Wanda."
"But you did." Wanda counteracts. Natasha thinks as she moves a hand up and down the witches back. "I did. But that was misplaced. I'm sorry for that." Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her brain was still stuck on the thoughts from earlier.
Natasha is thinking about her.
Natasha doesn't hate her.
Natasha apologized.
Natasha.
Wanda looked up to see Natasha already looking at her. "Are you feeling better?" Natasha asked. "Yes. Thank you." Wanda answered, but neither one moved. Natasha kept her arms around Wanda. While Wanda kept her face near the crook of Nat's neck. "Cinnamon."
"What?" Natasha had a smile people would pay to see. Or would be killed if they saw it. "Your hair. It smells like cinnamon. The great Black Widow uses cinnamon-infused shampoo." Nat rolled her eyes but couldn't help but be happy in this moment. "Lavender." She replied. "That's what you use." Natasha looked down at the smiling teammate, who wiped her eyes free of any remaining evidence of tears.
She saw it—a smile on Wanda's face.
A smile that Natasha made happen.
Beautiful 
Wanda pushed her head into Natasha in an effort to hide the fact that she read her thoughts and to not let Nat see her blush.
"Natasha." Wanda's muffled voice hit the spy's ears. "Yes?" Wanda was nervous on what to say next. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. "Your thoughts... I can hear them. I promise I wasn't trying. They were just loud."
Silence.
When Wanda had the courage to poke her eye out of Natasha's neck, she saw her staring away. "I think we should end training. I'll let Steve know that-" "Wait, Natasha, I didn't mean-" Natasha tried her best to pull her arm out from under the witch, but the Black Widow trained Wanda. So, in one fell swoop. Wanda gripped Natasha's arm back and kicked her forward, so Natasha surprisingly was on her back once again.
In an instant, Wanda was on top of her.
"It's okay," Wanda spoke closer to Nat's face than ever before. "You're not who they made you to be." Natasha's eyes became sad, knowing that Wanda had seen the memories she made her relive months ago. "You're not made of marble, Natasha. You're made of so much more. I like you because of that."
"You like me?" Natasha's voice cracked. She was thankful no one else was around to hear that. "Well, I don't hate you. And you don't hate me." The woman on top spoke.
Slowly and carefully, Wanda began to lean into Natasha more. "Is this okay?" Wanda asked. Natasha nodded and brought her face up until their lips softly touched one another. A quick kiss turned into another and another until the nervousness was gone, and all that remained was the lust for more. "Natasha.." Wanda began to moan as Nat's roaming hands slid down Wanda's back.
Natasha smirked. An accent never made her name sound so good.
In the far corner of the gym, Clint was retracing his steps. It had been over an hour and a half, and no one had yet come out of the room. Alive or dead. So Clint took it upon himself to make sure everything was alright.
But once he saw his two teammates tangled with one another, he decided to exit and text his wife.
"I think I'm going to have to make some upgrades to the guest bedroom on the second floor."
"lol."
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dividers by @/benkeibear
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Heaven is a Place on Earth
Dean Winchester x (gn) Reader
Request: Would you mind write a dean x guardian angel!Reader fic, I don't have any specific prompt but make it angsty pls thank you
Summary: After Cas is killed by Lucifer, a strange new Angel turns up claiming to have been sent by him. Dean doesn't like the sound of it, but maybe a Guardian Angel is what he's needed all along.
Warnings: Spoilers for season 13, angst
Word count: 3,097
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Castiel was dead, and Dean was distraught. Burning his body on that pyre was the worst thing he'd had to do in a long time, maybe even the worst. At least when something bad happened to Sammy, Cas was always there to save the day. But now, he was gone, and the brothers were feeling the weakness of their humanity more than ever.
In the days after, Sam urged Dean to get out of the bunker and search for the Nephilim. If anyone could bring the Angel back, it was bound to be him at the end of the day. But Dean could barely think about that being, let alone face him. So when they pulled up at that crappy little diner, he couldn't even fathom going in, letting his brother do the work while he pounded the back door.
"Okay, Chuck... or God, or whatever. I need your help. See, you– you left us. You left us. You went off. You said...you said the earth would be fine because it had me... and Sam, but it's not, and we're not.
We've lost everything... and now you're gonna bring him back. Okay? You're gonna bring back Cas, you're gonna bring back Mom, you're gonna bring 'em all back. All of 'em. Even Crowley.
Cause after everything that you've done, you owe us, you son of a bitch. So you get your ass down here and you make this right, right here and right now."
Nothing. Not that Dean was surprised. He'd come to set his expectations lower than low at this point.
"He's not listening, Dean. I'm sorry."
Whipping his gun out, Dean spun round to the source of the voice. It was soft, gentle and kind, but he was still wary.
"The hell are you?" He demanded, shaking slightly at the sight of you. Illuminated by the sun, your skin practically glowing and your hair blew gracefully in the breeze.
"My name is Y/N. Castiel sent me."
"Cas? He's alive?"
You gulped at your mistake in sparking hope.
"No, no I'm sorry. What I meant was, he sent me before. I was to come if something happened to him."
"So you're an Angel?" Dean lowered the gun hesitantly, gingerly taking a step towards you.
"Yes. And I swore to Castiel that I would care for you where I could."
The hunter snorted and you winced at his harshness. "I don't need caring for. That's ridiculous. Cas was my friend, not my guardian angel or whatever."
You took a tentative step forward. "Please, Dean. I can help you. I've been keeping tabs on you and your brother for a long time now, and I can help you with the Nephilim."
"Can you bring him back? And my Mom? Crowley?"
"No, I'm sorry-"
"Then you're no help to me. Now get out of here before I smite you off this planet."
You watched him walk away, back to the Impala with tears in your eyes. You knew the Winchester boy was damaged, and you'd seen how him and Castiel interacted. There was a special kind of love there which he was grieving. That was a human emotion you knew you'd never be able to feel yourself, but you could understand it. Castiel had understood it too, which was why he'd sent you here to watch over Dean. He needed you, but it was just a matter of time before he realised that.
“Dean!” You scrambled after him, fist clenched. He pivoted on his heels, groaning and raising his eyebrows with eyes squeezed closed.
“Just-just let me come with you. To find the Nephilim. I can talk to him.”
Dean huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “You know about that?”
“Of course. And I know he’s scared. He’s part Angel, I’m an Angel - maybe he’ll talk to me.”
You had no clue if that was true or not, but it was worth a try. You’d promised Castiel you’d look out for Dean, but you also knew he had a close connection with Kelly Klein and he’d want you to watch over the boy too.
“Fine,” Dean motioned for you to follow him and you scrambled along to catch up. He made you nervous but you couldn’t quite pinpoint why yet.
The drive was tense and speechless. Dean played his music loud, and it was a sound that took a while for you to adjust to. But by the time you pulled up at the sheriffs office, you had relaxed into it, finding yourself bobbling along and humming the tune.
Naturally, Dean was hesitant around the Nephilim. But the child was scared, thrown into a new world he knew little about. While you felt the younger Winchester was adjusting just fine, you saw it as your mission to help build the relationship between Jack and Dean. That said, Jack wasn't the only one facing a whole new world. Having just arrived on Earth yourself, hunting was something you had to learn rapidly, and you were unsure about. Your whole existence was based on love and caring, on making sure the human race thrived. Now, with a blade thrust in your hand, you were being instructed to fight.
"Dean...I don't know if I can do this." You stopped him one evening as he was packing up to follow a new lead surrounding Lucifer's whereabouts. Jack and Sam were packing the car, and Dean was chucking the last few bits into a bag when he felt your hand tug on his flannel lightly.
"What do you mean Y/N? C'mon, we've gotta get moving," he dismissed you, shrugging you off. You gripped tighter and squeezed, making Dean pause. Of course, he was always conscious you were an Angel, but you rarely exerted your true strength around him. In fact, more than often he could convince himself you were just another human being. But now, held steadily in his place, he took a deep breath. Turning back to you, his heart broke as you bit your lip, desperately trying not to let a tell-tale tear slip down your cheek.
"I'm not him, Dean." You whispered with a gulp. "I'm not Castiel. I'm not a fighter. I wish I was, I really do; I'm a Guardian Angel for goodness sake, I'm supposed to be a protector. These past few weeks, I've tried so hard but...I'm sorry. I've let you both down. Castiel expected better from me..."
"No. Stop." You tilted your head up as Dean's rough fingers cupped your chin, his other hand on your shoulder reassuringly. "You've not let anyone down, Y/N. Cas, he knew I could hold my own. He didn't send you to fight for me. He didn't want to you be someone you're not."
"But how am I meant to protect you if I can't fight?"
Dean gave you a lopsided smile. "You don't have to fight to protect someone, ya know. I don't think Cas sent you to physically protect me from monsters. He knew I could do that myself. I think he sent you to protect me up here-" he tapped his temple lightly - "to protect me from myself."
You sniffled and frowned, unsure what he meant. "Y/N, sometimes I can get in my head a lot. Hell, after Cas...after Cas died, I did. But you, you've pulled me out. I know I wasn't the nicest to you when we first met, but honestly, you've saved me. So you don't have to fight, Y/N, not physically. But I need you here still, to fight for me, against me. You think you can do that?"
You nodded, letting him brush away your tears and smiled. "C'mon, lets load up. You don't have to do anything, but we're gonna need you for moral support. Oh, and those amazing psychic Angel powers too."
Things changed after that. You became the Winchester's confidant, and you supported them on each and every hunt with intel only you could gather. You felt Dean start to thrive again, and you took pride in knowing you were actually making a difference. Even Sam had stopped you one night to thank you for being around, for being the ray of sunlight his brother needed. Dean laughed more now, he relaxed on days off. He enjoyed teaching you human things, and laughed when you and Jack attempted something he thought so mundane but the two of you found incredibly mortal. You were part of their small, dysfunctional family now, and you couldn't imagine it any other way.
Sure, you were having a positive impact on Dean, but what he didn't know was that he was having the same on you. As you spent more time together, you were starting to feel actual emotions. Happiness, anger, upset, frustration, hurt, hate. All these things you'd never even believed in when you were in Heaven, and now they were flooding you. It was amazing. Everyone in the little group had the same impact on you, but with Dean, it was markedly different. There was another emotion, one that felt like another you shared with Sam and Jack, but more emphasised. With them, you wanted to keep them safe, you wanted to keep them happy, you wanted to care for them. They were your family now. But with Dean, it was all that and more. You wanted to hold onto him and never let go. You wanted him to stare at you with those gorgeous green eyes until they burned through your skull. You wanted to nestle into his flannels, coat yourself in his scent. This new emotion, this thing you couldn't name for so long, gnawed at you. It scared you, too, which was why you never spoke about it, never asked Sam what it was. You just stayed quiet, and hoped to figure it out with time.
Because, at the end of the day, you supposed you had all the time in the world. You hadn't even considered that might not be the case. That was, until you were sitting in the back of the Impala, returning from a ghost hunt. You'd already scolded Dean for his little 'momentary death' stunt, trying not to let him know that it had scared the shit out of you. Seeing him dead was something you never wanted to witness again, especially by his own hand. But then the phone rang.
"Yeah?...What..." Dean froze in the front seat, his hand hovering by his ear. Sam frowned at him and you pulled yourself forward, peering between the seats. Without warning, you were flung backwards as Dean stepped on the gas, driving full pelt into the darkness. He wouldn't say a word, no matter how much you and Sam pressed him. He was in shock, and it was clear he didn't want to say anything incase whatever he had just been told was a lie. You resisted going into his head, knowing no good would ever come out of that.
The first light you saw was that of a phone box, positioned on the left down a dampened alleyway. A figure stood outside it, facing away, shrouded in a long coat. You blinked to try get a clearer view of the figure as you drew closer, but Sam and Dean had leapt from the car before it had even stopped. You climbed out slowly behind them, a feeling of dread filling your vessel's bones. It was him. The being that had sent you here. The dead being that had sent you here.
"Cas, is that really you?" Dean's voice hitched in his throat as his best friend turned round.
"No. You're-you're dead," Sam couldn't believe his eyes. Neither could you. How could you not have known Castiel was alive? Surely something on the Angel radar must have gone off?
"Yeah, I was. But then I… annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back." You studied the Angel's face closely, questioning the truth.
Sam shook his head with disbelief. "I don't even know what to say."
"I do." Dean stepped forward, arms out. "Welcome home, pal." He gripped onto the Angel tight, embracing him in a way that made you flinch. Dean had never hugged anyone like that before. Not Sam, not Jack, not you.
As the three of them hugged, you found yourself tiptoeing back. Your breath was all caught up, not that you even needed to breathe, but all of a sudden you felt incredibly human. Vulnerable; that was a feeling only a human could feel. Because at that moment, you could name it. You could name that feeling that plagued you when you were around Dean, the one you couldn't name for so long. Now you knew was it was. And it wasn't a good one.
"Y/N?" As Cas finished hugging Sam, he looked over the brother's shoulders, having seen your figure lingering. He frowned at the silence.
"The hell they'd go? They were here a second?" Dean scratched his head in confusion and Sam shrugged. They were too happy to have Cas back to worry about anything else. Wherever you had gone, they were sure you'd turn up at some point.
In the end, it was them who caught up with you. You'd teleported straight back to the bunker to pack your things. You weren't needed now Cas was back, and you only hoped you could be gone before they got home.
Of course, you underestimated the speed Dean could get up to in that Impala.
"Y/N, you here?" You heard Dean holler as you stuffed your bag full. You tried to hurry, but the door flung open before you even had a chance. With a gasp, you pulled it against your chest, staring beady-eyed at the figure before it. It wasn't Dean; it was Castiel.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He approached you slowly, not turning the light on. "I haven't had a chance to thank you."
"Th-thank me?"
"Yes. For protecting Dean. I understand it can be, well, quite a challenging job at times. But you did good, as I knew you would. So I need to thank you."
"Oh, er, that won't be necessary, sir. You're back now, which is good, which is amazing! So, erm, I should be off." You mumbled as you tried to move past him.
"You're leaving?" Dean's broken words stopped you in your tracks. He emerged from behind the wall, turning the corner into your room. His eyes were wide with confusion, his mouth open slightly. "Why?"
Tears started running down your face. "You don't need me anymore. Castiel is back. My job is done."
Dean pushed pass Cas, blocking your exit. "Your job? Is that all this was to you? A job?"
"No, Dean, I just-"
"Cause from where I've been standing, I thought you wanted to be here. I thought you were part of the family, Y/N. I thought you were in this for the long haul. I didn't realise this - I didn't realise I - was just another job to you." Oh he was angry. This was anger.
"I'm sorry, Dean...I just figured you wouldn't need me anymore." You couldn't even look at him, although you could feel Castiel's disappointment as he glared at you.
"Castiel is back now. You don't need me."
"Of course I need you, Y/N. Don't get me wrong, I am over the moon that Cas is back, he's my best friend. But you were never a replacement for him. It hasn't gotta be one or the other, has it?"
"I..." you honestly didn't know what to say. You took a peak at Castiel, who only looked sad, before taking the risk and gazing up at Dean. To your horror, he was crying now too. But why? Had you upset him? How?
"Y/N, you are not the Angel I knew when I trusted you with this task. You've changed, like I have changed. Humanity teaches us many lessons, and I can see you've learned a lot." Castiel's wise words echoed into your vessel's brain. "I know its hard, but if there is one thing being on this Earth, and dying on this Earth, has taught me, its to be honest. Say how you feel, Y/N. Name it."
As you sobbed, you looked at him and he responded with a soft smile and nod, before sliding out the door back towards the kitchen. You whimpered as you caught Dean's eye, his face a contortion of confusion.
"Love," you breathed. "It's love I feel. I didn't know what it was, not for a long time. But now I know. I love you, Dean."
Dean's jawed dropped, and for a moment it felt like the universe froze. But then he took a step forward, and his hand took yours. "You do?"
You nodded, tears streaming. "I realised thats what it was when Castiel came back. But I figured you couldn't love me, not when I was just a placeholder for him. Thats why I had to leave."
With a sigh, Dean reached up and wrapped him arms round you, drawing you in close. He rested his chin on your head as you nestled your face into his flannel, just as you had dreamed.
"I love you too, Y/N." You wouldn't have believed your ears had you been human, but with your Angel hearing there was no mistaking it. He planted a kiss on your head before you pulled away, gazing up at him.
"You do? But...how?"
He chuckled. "All too easy. After Cas died, I could've gone down a very dark path. The only reason I didn't was because of you. Y/N, you pulled me back, you got me on the straight and narrow. You were never a replacement for him, you are something entirely different. You were exactly what I needed. Hell, I still need you. I've just got my best friend back. Don't make me lose the one I love now."
You nodded greedily, knowing now it all made sense. Castiel hadn't chosen you because you were a fighter, or because you were a peacemaker. There were plenty of other Angels he could have chosen if that was the case. No, he chose you because he knew the type of person Dean actually needed deep down, and he saw that in you.
"C'mon, Sammy's making enchiladas. I wanna eat some, and I wanna watch you and Cas watch us eating them. Lets go." He scooped an arm round your neck as he guided you down the hall, grins across both your faces.
Heaven could wait - this was your home now.
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wellsayhelloaagin · 2 years
Text
Make Me Forget
Angst Week 2.0 Story 2/7 | Angst Week 2.0 Masterlist
Summary: The anniversary for Pietro's death is fast approaching and you make a promise to Natasha to look out for Wanda.
Pairing: Wanda x reader
Genre: Angst
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: alcohol consumption, sad smut
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“Look after her for me?”
It’s a simple request, whispered into your ear as Natasha hugs you, the quinjet engines rumbling to life behind her. 
She pulls back and you nod, knowing exactly what she meant.
Natasha was about to leave on a mission, not knowing when she would return. All you knew was that it would be at least a month, possibly more and that Natasha wouldn’t be able to keep her promise to Wanda.
You knew she was worried about her friend and to be honest, so were you.
Wanda had been different lately, withdrawing from the group and spending more time locked in her room. You didn’t blame her though, if you were in her position you would probably do the same.
The anniversary of her brother’s death and the demise of her city was quickly approaching, each day closer to the one-year mark was a reminder that Wanda had lost the last remaining family she had.
You could only imagine how hard it must be for her but you were determined to help her in any way you could. 
You knew that Natasha had promised to be there for her, Wanda confessing to the redhead one night that she didn’t want to be alone when the day finally came. Now you would take her place, proving what little comfort you could to a woman who was still clearly grieving the loss.
“I will,” you assure Natasha, looking over at where Wanda stood behind her, arms wrapped tight around her stomach as if it were the only thing holding her together.
//
The weeks pass quickly, Natasha’s absence in the compound feeling greater with every passing day. 
Wanda continues to withdraw, the bags under her eyes indicating that she wasn’t sleeping much. You knew she had nightmares, your bedroom was right across the hall from hers.
When she did join the group, Wanda was irritable. She snapped at the others when they tried to engage her in conversation and she always looked on the brink of tears afterwards, apologies falling from her lips before she would scurry back to her room.
She hardly ate anything and you knew that you were letting both her and Natasha down.
You were at a loss, you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to push, not wanting to overstep Wanda’s boundaries but at the same time, you hated seeing her hurting so clearly.
It wasn’t a secret that you had a crush on the brunette. You enjoyed spending time with her, spending your days watching old sitcoms and laughing on the couch together. Wanda made your heart flutter and you felt like maybe, she had feelings for you too.
But you were too scared to ruin your friendship and you knew she was in no state to make a move now. You were more concerned with looking after your friend and helping her through a difficult time.
The day before the anniversary, you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter at a loss for what to do.
Wanda had fled quickly after breakfast, leaving you sitting there with Sam. You must have looked pretty pathetic because the next thing you know he sighs loudly, making you glance in his direction.
“Look, it's obvious you care and want to help,” he begins, laying a hand on your arm in support. “What that girl needs is a distraction and someone to listen. Use that big brain of yours and work something out.”
With that he walks out of the room, a plan already forming in your mind.
//
The next morning you wake up early, ready to set up your day.
You spend the next hour gathering the supplies you would need, checking them off the list you had prepared.
When you were sure you had everything, you knocked on Wanda’s bedroom door. You wait a few moments, wondering if maybe she was going to ignore you before the door swings open.
Wanda had obviously been crying already, her eyes rimmed with red and there were dried tear tracks on her face.
“Goodmorning,” you tell her, handing her a cup of coffee. “You’ve got twenty minutes to shower and get ready before we leave.”
Wanda chews her lip, looking at the coffee and then back to you.
“Look,” she begins and you can already tell what she’s about to say. “I appreciate the effort but-”
“Not buts,” you cut her off, pushing her towards her bathroom. “Twenty minutes and I’m coming back for you.”
You almost expect her to protest more but you know that her curiosity over what you had planned would win out. 
You spend the day trying to make her smile as much as possible. You watch her favourite sitcom on the couch together, laughing at the same jokes you always did. You help her make paprikash to bring a bit of home to her, eating it in the garden and soaking up the rays of the sun. You spend some time reading aloud one of her favourite books, your back resting against a tree as she lies across the picnic blanket, her head resting in your lap as you absentmindedly play with her hair.
She drifts off halfway through a chapter, her eyelashes fanning across her cheek as she sleeps. She looks peaceful, you decide, and you continue to stroke her hair while you watch a family of ducks waddle towards the pond.
When she wakes the sun is beginning to set, the sky cast in an orange glow that bathes her in warm light. If it were any other day you may have kissed her and taken the risk for just one chance with her.
She smiles shyly at you, sitting up and stretching slowly.
“How did you sleep?” you question, trying to distract yourself from the way her shirt had ridden up her back as she stretched.
“Good,” she replies, looking back at you. “No nightmares.”
You swell with pride at doing something right, maybe the day was a success after all.
“So what now?” she asks you, looking out towards the setting sun.
“I was thinking pizza and movies on the couch?” you offer, hoping it was enough.
“Throw in some wine and you have a deal,” she retorts and you can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. 
//
The night goes well, the pizza and wine combination is a hit. You have a few glasses, not wanting to go overboard. Wanda isn’t as restrained however, polishing off the rest of the bottle before cracking open a new one.
When some of the team make their way into the living room, you feel her tense beside you and make an excuse to continue your movie night in your bedroom. You know that Wanda wasn’t ready for a group of people and you didn’t want to ruin your good day.
At some point, you both fall asleep because when you wake up, the credits are rolling. At first, you don’t realise what woke you but then you hear a whimper beside you and the pieces start to click together.
Wanda’s face is scrunched up, her brows furrowed as she cries out again. You know she is experiencing a nightmare and you want nothing more than to be able to take her pain away.
She gasps suddenly, eyes flying open and landing on you. You pause for a moment, not knowing what to do before Wanda is crawling into your arms. You can feel the tears through your shirt as she shakes against you and you run your hand soothingly up her back.
“Why does it still hurt so much?” she whispers into the dark, her voice unsteady. “Why does it still feel like we just buried him?”
“I don’t know,” you reply truthfully, placing a soft kiss against her hair.
“I want it to stop,” she cries, burying her face into your neck. “I just want to stop feeling for a while.”
“I wish I could do more to help,” you admit truthfully, feeling like a failure.
Despite your best efforts, you didn’t really change anything for Wanda. 
“You did plenty to help,” she responds, lifting her head to look in your eyes. “You made me smile on a day that I didn’t think I’d be able to. I don’t think you realise how much that means to me.”
You want to look away, feeling exposed by her gaze. Her green eyes are locked on yours and the world feels like it slows down as she leans in.
The kiss is light, her lips pressing against yours softly while you hold your breath. You had dreamed of this moment for so long and now it was finally here and you didn’t know how to feel.
You thought you would be happy but everything just felt wrong.
Wanda’s lips tasted bitter from the wine, her cheeks still wet with tears. As much as you wanted this, you knew you needed to stop.
You push at her shoulder gently, the warmth of her lips leaving yours.
“Wanda,” you say gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” she challenges, moving into your space again. “I know you like me, I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
“It’s not right,” you tell her, your heart feeling like it was in your throat at her words. “You’ve been drinking and it’s been an emotional day. We should go back to sleep.”
“Please,” her soft plea almost breaks you but you stick to your resolve. “I want this, I do.”
“Not like this,” you shake your head, trying to ignore her hand wandering to the hem of your sleep shirt. 
“Please,” she tries again, this time trailing her lips down your neck and making you shudder. “I need this.”
Her hand dips under your shirt as she presses a kiss under your ear. You feel your body melt into her, your drowsy state making it that much harder to resist.
“Please,” she whispers in your ear, her thigh slipping between yours. “Make me forget.”
//
The sun wakes you this time, the yellow light peeking through the curtains. You try to stretch but your arm is pinned down.
You open your eyes to find Wanda lying there, her bare back exposed, the sheet of your bed draped over her waist.
Your mind flashes back to the night before, the way her body fit against yours, the way her hands felt on you, the noises she made as you tasted her for the first time, the cries of pleasure she pulled from you.
But you also remember the way the tears on her cheek glistened in the moonlight, the way her moans would sometimes sound like a sob, the way she wouldn’t look you in the eye. 
You groan softly, realising that you may have ruined everything. Your friendship with Wanda was so important to you and you had put that in jeopardy last night.
You carefully extract yourself from Wanda, walking over to your bathroom. You study yourself in the mirror, deciding to take a quick shower to clear your head.
When you return to the room, you find your bed empty. Your stomach sinks and you can’t shake the bad feeling that overcomes you.
You check Wanda’s room but find it empty, the kitchen and living room not fairing any better. 
You finally track her down in the library, curled up in an armchair by the window. You walk toward her, noticing her back stiffen as you get closer.
“Wanda,” you call out softly when you’re close enough, hands twisting nervously in front of you. “Can we talk?”
“About?” she asks, not looking at you.
“You know what,” you mumble, not sure what to make of her aloof attitude.
She sighs then, turning slowly to face you. Her face is hard to read and you feel like you want to throw up.
“Look,” she begins and your heart sinks. “Last night was a mistake.”
You knew it was coming but the words still hurt, feeling like a knife to the chest.
“I know,” you agree, looking out the window yourself. “But-”
“No buts,” Wanda interjects, throwing away any hope you had left to salvage the situation. “I was vulnerable and it didn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to hold back tears. 
Wanda just sits there awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact. You couldn’t just leave things like that though, not when there was so much on the line.
“It meant something to me,” you whisper looking down at your feet. 
You see Wanda’s head turn toward you but you aren’t brave enough to meet her eyes. 
“I know it shouldn’t have happened like that and I’m sorry,” you continue, your filter disappearing.
Might as well get it all out there, right?
“But I don’t regret it happening,” your hands are shaking at your confession, your heart beating erratically. “You said it yourself, you know I like you. But I think it’s more than that.”
“Wait,” Wanda tries to stop you but it’s too late now.
“I care about you so much Wanda and I know I could make you happy. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me and I love you.”
The room is silent after your profession, the blood rushing through your ears the only thing you can hear.
After a few moments of silence, you finally look back at Wanda. She stands slowly, walking over to stand in front of you. You feel a small glimmer of hope in your chest at her proximity, wondering what she would say next.
“I just don’t feel the same,” she tells you before walking past you and out of the room.
//
The weeks that follow are worse than ever. 
You barely see Wanda, occasionally passing her in the halls or common areas.
Neither of you can make eye contact with each other. You feel the shame burning through you every time she’s near.
You cry almost every night. You cry for your lost friendship and for what could have been. You know that you really messed things up and you don’t know how you can go back to normal after this.
It all starts to become too much, so when a job opportunity opens up at the S.H.I.E.L.D base in California, you jump that the transfer. You want to put as much space between you and the heartache as possible.
You hold out on leaving until Natashas returns from her mission. You can sense her disappointment and you know that you’ll miss your friend once you’re gone. But staying was just more than you could bear.
Your bags are packed in the taxi and you were saying your final goodbyes to your teammates. One face was noticeably absent for the farewell, not that you really blamed her.
“I’ll miss you,” Natasha tells you, pulling you into a hug.
When you stand back up, you catch a glimpse of Wanda in the window, her face red from crying once again. 
You hated that you continued to hurt her, but maybe things would be easier once you left.
You turn to Natasha, wanting to ensure one last thing before you drive away.
“Look after her for me?”
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