#Cass was like i think we gotta kill him sam.. :( and sam was like how about we kill YOU instead. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thepaperpanda · 4 years

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The Tarry Gift || Higgs Monaghan x Reader (yet Sam makes a short guest apperance too!)

Summary: it had to be a simple delivery after a longer time of being indisposed. Little did you know that the client was Higgs Monaghan himself

Warnings: none

Words: 2728

Authors: Cass & Bear

A/N: This is a comedy fic. We wrote it accidentally while just playing around with writing a thing for Higgs Monaghan character but it came out so laughably that we decided to share it with you! ENJOY!

You hoped for a lot as for the first delivery since a long time but instead, you’d gotten pizza delivery. A fucking pizza.

You took the box and headed to the destination.

When the terminal beeped, Higgs narrowed his eyes. Quickly a realization came - it could be nothing but pizza!

Oh, how much he hoped to finally meet Sam in his bunker!

How much he craved to see Sam's face when he will realise that Peter Englert was no one else but Higgs himself!

Before putting his hood on, he checked his makeup and smiled at his reflection in a mirror. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the meanest of them all?," He smirked widely to his reflection so the whiteness of his teeth glistened back in a light of lamp and Higgs chuckled.

He checked his outfit for the very last time and walked to open the door.

"Oh, Sam Bridges! Guess you're happy to..... Who the fuck are you?"

"Who the fuck are you?," You asked with a frown, still holding pizza box in your hands.

The last thing you needed now was being insulted by an aspiring beauty guru. "I have your pizza, mr Englert."

"Where's Sam Bridges?," He asked, measuring your features from the bottom to the top.

You shrugged. "He left before I did. Even if he is my friend I don't really know where he is. Why do you ask?"

"Nevermind. Oh, where are my manners? Please, come in, come in," he gestured at you to get inside the bunker.

"Uhm…," You felt confused, most of the time you interacted with holograms and no one ever invited you inside. "Uhm, I don't know if I should."

"Oh, don't bullshit me!," He simply grabbed your forearm and pulled you inside. When he did, the door closed automatically.

Now you felt scared as fuck and the locked door made you scared even more. "Uhm... Your pizza,” you passed the box to the man in the hood.

With his hood still on, Higgs grabbed the pizza box from you and humming happily he went further along the narrow corridor. "Oh, c'mon! Don't stand like an idiot. Get in!"

You swallowed heavily and nodded, following him. You didn't like it but you had no other option.

The corridor led to a huge chamber.

The walls were covered with handwriting, maps and pictures of no one else but Sam Bridges.

Almost in the middle of the room there was a couch and a table. Under the table there were empty pizza boxes.

Man flopped on the couch and opened the box he was holding in hands. He grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite. He hummed. "Delicious. Make yourself at home. Want some?," He asked, offering you pizza. "Salami and ham."

You looked around and felt the shivers moving up your spine. This didn't look good and you wanted to run. "No, thanks… I don't like salami or pizza itself."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say, honeypot," he replied and ate his slice of pizza only to grab another

"Don't call me that. I don't even know you. Why am I here even?!," You growled angrily while rubbing your elbow.

"The name's Higgs, the particle of God that permeates all existence. You brought pizza and you are the friend of Sam Bridges who is my greatest enemy of all time. So technically, you're kidnapped," Higgs claimed.

You blinked, processing what he just said. "Excuse me...? You kidding, right? I wanna go out. Let me out."

"Take a seat and have some pizza. Rest. Make yourself at home. You're not going anywhere."

"I don't like pizza!," You growled. "I want to go home! I have other stuff to do."

"Shhh, shhh, shhh, stop talking, I can't gather my thoughts when you're yapping like a puppy," Higgs finished his pizza and laid on the couch.

"LET ME OUT YOU, PSYCHO!," You yelled and stomped a few times.

He didn't listen. After a long moment he got up and walked to the desk where a laptop was placed. He took it with him and sat back on the couch.

You frowned and moved closer to close the laptop with your palm. "Let me you! Do you understand English?"

"Can you stop yapping, pretty please?," He pulled the hood off his head and furrowed his brows.

"Can you stop being a dick and let me out?!," You growled. "Sam won't just come because I am gone."

"Oh, he'll. I'm mailing him, don't worry, he's going to come for you," Higgs replied. "If I was a dickhead, you'd be tied up and I'd put a rag into your mouth to shut you up. I didn't do anything. I even offered you pizza! Ah, people are so ungrateful these days."

"Says the guy that kidnapped an innocent woman. You want me to be grateful for keeping me here?," You asked in disbelief, crossing arms over your chest.

"Oh-ho, I heard the storm has come! It's better here I think, you're dry and not exposed to BTs. Or... Are you truly safe here?," He smirked wryly and snapped his fingers.

Without a blink of an eye the floor turned into tar and a creature formed out of it. It was a lion BT with a golden snout. It roared at you.

"Holy Beach!," You whimpered and sat on the couch right next to him, pulling knees right under your chin. "Take it away! I am sorry! I will be good!"

The lion tilted its head and shook its mane, roaring and yawning. Next, the creature licked its paw and sat right in front of you.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt you unless I order so," Higgs informed as he was writing the email.

You only nodded your head, too scared to even move or breathe.

"If you need a hug, you can just tell me," Higgs chuckled. "I'm a great cuddler."

Lion hit your knee with its paw, roaring.

"I would never touch you, ever. I am scared of this thing," you explained, pointing at the lion and whimpering loudly when it hit your knee.

"Don't you see? He demands being petted," Higgs glared at you. "Go on. Pet him. Like this," he reached out and stroked the mane made of tar.

You nodded and slowly tried to pet the lion how Higgs instructed you.

It resulted in a loud purring that was followed by a tail wiggling, sending some tar on the walls. Soon, the lion laid down, his belly exposed.

You looked at Higgs. "Really? I thought BTs are more scary," you said and bent down to scratch the lion's belly.

Lion's paw started shaking as you hit the very right spot. The puring became louder.

Higgs raised his brow while looking at you. "Ah, right. They are scary, indeed. Just don't try this with others outside because they'll kill ya," he reminded. "Ah! Done! Now we only gotta wait for Sam to come and rescue you from the oppression!"

"You think I am that stupid to pet every BT I see?," You asked with a frown. "I don't think he will come but I at least can pet the lion..."

Lion grabbed your arm with both front paws and pulled you to him more so you fell off the couch.

Higgs chuckled. "I forgot to tell you that he is too demanding sometimes."

"I can see! I will need a shower… Ah, I just took one before I left the facility," You sighed sadly, petting the lion.

Lion opened the snout and trailed its tarry tongue across your face.

You only whimpered and sighed defeatedly.

Soon, the terminal beeped again.

"Your saviour has come apparently!," Higgs informed you excitedly and rubbed his hands together getting off the couch.

He walked to the main door of his bunker and put hood back on. He touched the touchpad on the wall and the door opened. "Ah, Sam Bridges! We can finally meet in person!"

Sam put the case he was holding in his hand down on the stone floor and cocked his brow. "Higgs. We do know each other."

"Yes! But technically you came here to meet Peter Englert. So?," He sent Sam a wide grin.

Sam let out a sigh. "Higgs. I know you're Peter Englert. Now, can I get Y/N back?"

"Yes, please! I'd like to go home, even if I like the lion!," You yelled from the floor while you were still petting the creature. Too bad you couldn't keep it.

Sam narrowed his brows. "Excuse me, is she inside? How? What for?"

"I'll share a secret with you," Higgs put hands to Sam's shoulders and leaned forward to trace the tip of his tongue along Sam's cheek. "I let her in and she enjoyed our common time."

"Get off, man!," Sam pushed Higgs off and wiped his cheek with the top of his gloved palm. "Y/N! Move on!"

You rubbed the lion's snout. "I started to like you. I need to go now, you cute, little thing. Maybe we'll meet again and you won't eat me then!," You said to the creature and got up to quickly run to Sam. "Hi," you give him a smile as soon as you step out of Higgs' bunker.

Sam measured your figure from the bottom to the top with shock written on his face. "Were you fighting BTs? Did he do something to you?," Sam asked, pointing right on Higgs who instantly shook his head for no, raising his hands up.

“He locked me in his safe room and was rude to me but at least he let me pet his BT lion. It's messy as hell but I really loved it," you explained with excitation, looking at Higgs. "Too bad I can't have one."

Higgs sent you a grin and snapped his fingers once again. Within the blink of an eye once again a little puddle of tar appeared at the entrance and a little BT lion cub stepped out of it, meowing loudly.

"Omg, hi, little one!" You laughed and picked the creature gently up. "You are mine now."

"Hola, hola!," Sam raised his tone. "You're not going to take a BT with you. Put it back, now, I am not joking, Y/N. You won't get the BT from this deluded guy."

Higgs crossed arms over his chest. "Let her. This BT belongs to her now, you would have to chop the cord off."

"Exactly. It's mine," you looked at him with an innocent smile, hugging the cub.

The BT lion cub reached its tiny paw towards Sam, but the man immediately took a step back. "This is sick, ridiculous. What are you thinking, Y/N? That we'll get back to Bridges with that BT hidden in your backpack? And you," Sam pointed at Higgs. He was so done with Monaghan's actions and shady plans. "You better get the fuck out of my sigh, I'm so done and believe me - I would kill you but I know it won't affect you in any goddamn way."

Higgs chuckled. "It's good to be a repatriate after all, huh? Y/N, you can keep the BT," he winked at you.

"What's the fucking point of kidnapping her though," Sam pointed at you, "When you simply let her go? What the fuck is going on!"

You pet the cub and shrugged. "He was really disappointed when I came with pizza. So if I understood it correctly, he didn't plan to hurt me and only wanted to get your attention."

You moved a little closer to Sam. "Trust me, he must be a big fan of yours. His walls are decorated with your pictures," you whispered.

Sam cringed at the simple thought of his photos being attached to Higgs' walls.

"I planned on killing you," Higgs claimed openly. "But she came instead of you, and she brought a good pizza. So I rethought my idea and today I won't kill anyone. What a lovely day, isn't it?!"

Higgs approached you and Sam and wrapped his slender arms around you two. "What a lovely day for the encounter!"

You cringed at the hug, knowing that Sam must have felt really uncomfortable with this.

Letting out an awkward laugh you patted Higgs' shoulder. "Yes, yes... It's nice but please, can you let us go?"

Monaghan measured your features with his steel blue eyes. "It's a shame such a beautiful woman is wasting her youth on being a porter though," he touched your cheek with a gloved hand and then leaned down and forward to get on the level of your head. "But due to the fact you were rather a good hostage, I'll let ya go," after these words he licked your cheek. "You taste so good."

Sam cringed harder at the sight and simply yanked you out of Higgs' grasp. "I have enough of you, I mean it," Sam told Monaghan who only chuckled. "What's so funny, Higgs? Maybe it's time to get a life, something?"

Higgs rubbed his bearded chin before replying. "You see, Sam, haunting you and turning your life in a fucking mess became one of the most beloved and fascinating hobbies of mine lately," Higgs concluded with a happy tone. "You're so much fun, aren't you? Especially when you're making all those grimaces of yours when I cause the tar being all over you," Higgs summed up.

Sam closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to cool himself down. "Amelie created a goddamn psychotic monster," he summed up, his hands clenched in fists.

"Sam, let's go, okay? You two can fight some other time. If he lets us go, let's use it," you said, petting the little lion in your arms and starting to walk away. "Thank you for the lion!"

"The pleasure is mine and mine only, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you though. Remember, the name's Higgs!"

Sam dragged you down the hill, right to his car. "Are you insane?"

"Hey! He kidnapped me, did you forget? Okay, maybe more like inviting me inside and locked the door but I felt kidnapped!," You stated. "And since when do you touch anyone?!"

"Since you pissed me off with the childish behaviour of yours, Y/N, he could have killed you."

"Like you see he did not! Overall he was even nice to me. He gave me a little lion!"

Sam let go of your hand. "Don't get fooled by his sweet face," Sam raised his finger up, shaking it in front of your eyes. "He might look cute and behave cute but it's his deluded facade. He's a fucking delusional psychopath who gifted you with the fucking BT. It's nothing normal in this."

"But look. It's my BT now, it won't hurt me or anyone. It will be okay," you said and nodded. "I know but look, he didn't hurt me and I am fine."

"So maybe get back to his bunker and you two can live a happy life, how about that?," Sam growled. "Get in. Time to get back to Bridges as you spent more than half a day with the main terrorist of America."

"I was kidnapped! It's not like I could just leave. You also took your sweet time to get there," you let out a sigh and got in, rolling your eyes.

"I was working and getting throughout BTs territory to get your ass saved, Y/N, so don't bullshit me about me being delayed," he instructed as he took a seat at the wheel.

"Okay, sorry.”

"Ah, and put this fucking thing to the trunk, I don't need the upholstery to be covered in tar," added Sam while pointing at BT lion cub that was on your lap.

"It's connected to me. If the cub is going to the trunk then I go there as well," you answered, petting BT head.

"For fuck's sake. If your sweet tar cub will leave a single tar spot inside, I'll cut the cord, understood?," Sam growled

You rolled your eyes and looked away.

"And please, next time refrain from delivering pizza."

"Not my fault that this is what I get to do. You know that it's not my choice," you sighed looking out of the window.

Sam only nodded in silence. "So at least try to verify to whom you are delivering."

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herstarburststories · 4 years

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you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face.

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert.

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point?

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day.

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years?

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be.

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that.

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back.

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson.

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons.

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light.

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache.

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

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can-u-like-stop · 3 years

Text

Secretly, I want you close to me

Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson

5 times Bucky touches/thinks about touching Sam and the 1 time he realises what it means

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31958725

-----------------------------------------

The day Sam told Bucky that he shouldn’t hold back when they were sparring was a day Bucky would surely remember. Well, the exact words were: “If you think just ‘cause you got steroids on steroids running through your blood that that means I’m too easy for you then I hope you’re ready for a reminder once I beat your ass”. Nevertheless, sparring sessions with Sam always have Bucky in a good mood.

On account of the serum, Bucky ends up winning a fair amount of the fights. On those days, Sam taps out and Bucky extricates himself from the hold with care and gives him a pat on the back, suggesting they go again.

“Don’t gimme that tone,” He gripes,

Bucky laughs, “what tone? I asked if you wanted to go again.”

“I know you think you’re hot shit, just wait ‘till we get in the sky then we’ll see who's the reigning champ.” Sam says, taking a swig of water before getting set up again.

It’s a reliable pattern that they follow until they have something else to do or they get bored.

But every now and then Sam would get Bucky in a hold of some sort or maybe throw him down, making the wind knock right out of his chest. And Bucky would have to reach out and tap Sam’s shoulder or thigh or any available part, the release brings both relief and disappointment. He then has to deal with Sam gloating for the next few minutes, until he manages to convince Sam to have another go.

“I stepped on a leaf, it wasn’t fair.” Bucky says, smirking as Sam takes his baited argument.

“Uhm, okay tinman, get up and we’ll see if you can blame this,” he gestures to himself, “on a leaf.”

As the rounds go on and on they get more tired, Bucky’s attempted punches pull back covered in sweat that he can’t identify as his or Sam’s. Eventually after another round has them laying panting next to each other, Sam gets up.

“Alright, that’s it for me. I gotta contact Joaquin, he told me he might have something for us.”

“Sure,” Bucky gets up, “it’s been too quiet lately anyway.” He throws a smile at Sam and puts a hand on his back with a wet slap. He quickly retracts in disgust.

“Ugh, gross.” He whines, earning him a laugh from Sam.

“Yeah, I’m also heading in to shower.”

“I got dibs.” Bucky rushes out, starting a jog to the house.

“C’mon man!” He hears behind him but he just throws a smirk over his shoulder as he heads into the house. He feels light and there’s a warm smile stuck on his face, as there usually is after he and Sam’s sparring sessions. Bucky pays it no mind, however, and heads to the shower.

The ride back from their mission was filled with somber silence. The plan was to apprehend people involved in the development of a chemical weapon. They had information from a person on the inside but they got caught right before Sam and Bucky had arrived.

Bucky found them first and the scientist was threatening to blow the whole building. Sam wasn’t able to get there in time and Bucky couldn’t talk them out of it. The building went down and Bucky managed to make it out but the informant had been killed.

Joaquin was looking into the scientist to see if he could find who now had the plans for the weapons, Sam and Bucky were sitting beside each other on the helicopter back to the USAF base. Both of them were staring at the floor, struggling to find anything to say.

“You okay?” Sam eventually asks, causing Bucky to glance over at him.

“Yeah, why?” Bucky says, even though ‘okay’ is debatable.

“You just watched two people get crushed in a building that you barely escaped from. A normal person might be a bit shook up from that.”

“Well I’m not normal,” Bucky mutters, looking back at his hands. “I’m just sorry that I couldn’t get him to put the detonator down.”

Sam scoffs, “Buck, you couldn’t even get close to him there was nothing you could do,” he reassures.

There are a few moments of silence.

“I wish I could’ve gotten there in time, I could’ve taken him out.” Sam sighs,

“What?” Bucky asks incredulously, “that’s bullshit. You were on the wrong side of the building, you couldn’t have got there in time.”

“I could’ve gone faster.” Sam argues,

“I could’ve stalled for longer, so it’s my fault that you didn’t get there.”

“It’s not your fault, Bucky.”

“Well, it’s not yours.” Bucky says, lifting his face to stare at Sam’s defiantly. Sam cracks a smile first and it breaks Bucky’s stern look as well.

Bucky reaches out and puts his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Sometimes missions go south,” he says, rubbing Sam’s shoulder, “it sucks but I’ve been told by therapists to not think too much about what I can’t control.”

That gets a chuckle out of Sam and Bucky’s chest warms, thank god he’s cheering up.

“It does suck…” Sam says absent-mindedly, bringing his own arm up to pat Bucky’s back.

The tense, suffocating silence gives way to a comforting peace between the two of them, until the phone in the helicopter rings and Joaquin answers it. He pokes his head out a few seconds later,

“Sam? They want to talk with you.”

Bucky shoots Sam a reassuring smile as he gets up to walk over there. Joaquin walks away from the phone and over to Bucky.

“That was a tough mission today.” He remarks.

Bucky offers him a grunt and a nod.

Joaquin gives a nod back and reaches out to give Bucky a reassuring pat, Bucky reacts on instinct and backs up. Joaquin’s hand jerks back in surprise, confusion and apology written on his face.

“Sorry, I just-” Bucky tries to explain, “I’m just not really comfortable with… like touching.”

“Oh shit, sorry man,” Joaquin says, “I just assumed ‘cause of you and Sam, but I shouldn’t have, sorry.”

Bucky offers a tense smile and Joaquin seems to accept it and he turns around to head back to doing whatever it is he does after missions. Bucky relaxes back in his seat, thinking.

‘I just assumed ‘cause of you and Sam’ Joaquin had said, Bucky frowns to himself. I guess I’m a little bit more touchy with Sam, he thinks. He considers doing what he just did with any other person and comes up blank. Maybe Steve, if he were still there, but that’s because Bucky’s known him his whole life. Sam is… different.

Touching people usually ends with Bucky feeling like his skin is crawling. If it’s someone he already knows he doesn’t mind it as much but he’d never initiate any kind of touch with people. Except for Sam.

Why? Bucky thinks to himself, furrowing his eyebrows together. Sam’s presence is just calming, Bucky feels like he can trust him and let his guard down. But he also trusts people like Ayo and Shuri, and it doesn’t feel the same as Sam.

Bucky’s saved from having to think more about it when Sam calls out for him.

“They wanna ask you about the mission.” Sam holds out the phone.

Bucky sighs, not looking forward to whoever he needs to talk to and whatever he needs to say. He tucks his deliberations to the side for now, maybe he’ll think more on it later.

Voices from people talking in various conversations float around Bucky as he eats at the Wilson’s neighbourhood cookout. He’s sat with Cass to his left, Sam at the end of the table on his right, and Sarah and AJ across from him, their usual seats. Sam’s telling a story from one of their previous undercover operations to Sarah.

“Now I’m pretty sure they got some messed up stuff going on there ‘cause the halls were actually changing.” Sam says, causing Bucky to snort.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks, smiling over at Bucky.

“The halls didn’t change,” Bucky punches Sam’s shoulder then turns to Sarah, “he got lost.”

“I was not lost! I swear to god the hallways changed! I went in one hallway and then immediately went out and I was in a completely different place.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Bucky jokes, patting Sam on the shoulder and Bucky notices Sarah eyeing the movement. Sam swipes his hand away,

“Don’t patronise me! I know what I saw.” He turns back to Sarah to continue the story, leaving Bucky thinking about the look on Sarah’s face.

She didn’t seem confused but she did look surprised at Bucky’s eagerness to touch Sam. Unlike Joaquin, Sarah knew that Bucky was pretty averse to touch. The people in the town were endlessly friendly and often Sarah took it upon herself to turn down hugs for him because he always felt bad for doing so. Bucky considers the question again, why does he touch Sam so much? A lot of the time the reason he doesn’t touch people is simply because he doesn’t feel comfortable around them, giving Bucky an answer that doesn’t quite seem to fit with Sam. It’s not just comfort, Bucky thinks, there’s something else.

He considers Sarah. He’s hugged Sarah before and didn’t hate it, and he wouldn’t shy away from Sarah giving him a comforting pat on the back or a side-hug. But Bucky imagines reaching out and patting Sarah’s shoulder like he did with Sam just now and that simply seems odd to Bucky. Why? Bucky asks himself. Because I don’t want to, he answers his own question. And with Sam, I do? he thinks. He looks over at Sam,

Yes, he answers. Something about Sam just makes Bucky want to reach out and touch him. Even now, when Bucky pretends to be listening, he can remember the feel of Sam’s shoulder, he remembers how it feels to have an arm around him and what it’s like to feel the rumble in his chest when he laughs or the steady movement of him breathing. Bucky wants to feel it again.

“Right, Bucky?” Sarah asks, shaking Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He says, “sorry I wasn’t listening.”

“I said, Sam’s always pretty stubborn, right?”

“Oh, definitely.” He says, turning to look at Sam who looks back with betrayed eyes.

“Coming from you!” Sam throws back and Bucky chuckles, looking back at his plate. Bucky’s pulled into a conversation with Cass about the book he’s reading but at the back of Bucky’s mind is the heat coming from Sam and how much he misses the feeling of it under his hands.

All this thinking about touching Sam must have gone to Bucky’s head. Bucky’s standing behind Sam who is addressing the agents going with them to collect the chemical weapon plans and hopefully put an end to the threat. But all Bucky can think of is how hunched Sam’s back is and how he wishes he could rub the tension away by placing a palm right in the middle.

This is not the time nor the place, Bucky tells himself, trying to force what Sam is saying into his mind. But then Sam’s putting his hand on his hip and Bucky wants to walk over to stand next to him just so he can tap Sam’s waist to get him to move over.

He doesn’t, though. He wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened with Joaquin. He doesn’t want people to get the idea that he’d be alright with just anyone touching him, and he doesn’t want to have to explain that Sam is the only one he wants to touch. All the time, it seems.

A bump to his shoulder makes Bucky look up from staring at the ground, Sam’s standing beside him now.

“You ready?” He asks

“Yeah,” he says, sighing.

“Hopefully this is the last we’ll hear of them,” Sam smiles and places a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky’s shoulders fall from his ears and he rolls his neck, “it’d better be.” He grumbles, forcing a scoff out of Sam.

“Is this too hard for you, old man?” He teases, and gives a slap to Bucky’s back. Bucky doesn’t grant that an answer, shooting Sam a soft glare. Bucky’s gotten used to the light feeling in his chest after Sam touches him and instead of being caught off guard by it, he now depends on it. An announcement rings out from the speakers of the helicopter and people start moving into their drop positions, Bucky’s able to use brushing past Sam as an excuse to nudge his arm and that’s all he’s willing to allow himself. Now he needs to focus on the mission.

Bucky’s never been good at fishing. Sure, he can do it, but he couldn’t remember a time when he’d caught anything. So when Sam had offered for them to head out to fish, Bucky had told him as much.

“Well, I’ll just have to show you how it’s done then,” Sam had decided, “come on.”

Now they were sitting in some random body of water with their lines in, and Bucky was soaking up the breeze. He was sitting on the side of the boat, with Sam on the side across from him.

“It’s not a lot of action, is it?” Bucky mentions, causing Sam to turn to him.

“Were you expecting action?” Sam chuckles,

“No, but… “ Bucky thinks, “just didn’t realise it would be this quiet.”

Sam frowns, “I mean, we could talk if you want?”

Bucky shakes his head, “nah, it’s… it’s a good quiet.”

It’s the right kind of quiet that doesn’t make you think. Bucky can hear birds from afar and the sound of water hitting the boat is steady. The sway from the water rocks them slightly.

Bucky makes the mistake of looking over at Sam, who’s looking out into the distance. He sees Sam’s shirt flapping slightly in the breeze, exposing the shirt underneath it and Bucky wants to place a hand there. He sees Sam turn his head to look back at the front of the boat, arching his neck, and Bucky wants to hold it and drag his fingers across his defined jaw. When Sam turns back Bucky can see his lips slightly open in concentration, they look soft and Bucky wonders what they feel like.

Sam suddenly turns to Bucky and he almost startles. Instead, his eye just twitches as his heart rate jumps.

“You’re staring again, Buck” Sam says softly as a smile reaches his face.

Bucky cracks a smile as well before he turns back to look at the water, praying his heart to calm down.

A yelp from Sam gets Bucky to look back at him in time to see him reeling in a shiny white fish.

“Get the cooler!” He orders, making Bucky hurriedly put down his fishing rod and rush inside the cabin to grab their cooler.

“First of many, baby!” Sam says excitedly and Bucky’s face breaks out into a smile that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to.

Yet again, Bucky and Sam are alone together. Every now and then Sam checks on how the fish are cooking before leaning back against the side table where he gutted them, Bucky stands to his side.

Night fell a little while ago and the bugs are out, their noises fill the air along with the sizzling sound of the fish.

“Our catch was pretty good today.” Sam mentions, turning over to Bucky.

Bucky laughs, “you mean yours, I caught like, one, and we had to throw it back.”

“Oh that’s right, isn’t it” Sam smirks mischievously.

Bucky pushes Sam away as he starts laughing. “Whatever,” he says, unable to stop himself from smiling yet again as Sam checks the fish.

Sam yelps in surprise and Bucky quickly looks over to see him stick his finger in his mouth.

“I burnt my damn finger.” He complains before putting his finger back in.

Bucky nods understandingly but his eyes are trained on Sam’s mouth. He’d been distracted from thinking about them earlier but now his gaze seems to be stuck on them. Sam’s finger retracts and grazes his bottom lip, Bucky wonders what it would feel like to brush his own finger against them.

Before he’d joined the army, Bucky had his doubts about his attraction towards men. He hung around with many people who were interested in their own gender but never thought of him to be one of them until just before he got sent off to war. By then, he decided that he didn’t have time to worry about it and that he was probably just confused.

But there was nothing confusing about what he felt when he imagined kissing Sam right then and there. To feel his lips against his own made his heart beat faster but not in a scary way. Bucky imagined kissing Sam would be just like touching him; calming, soft, perfect.

Bucky’s gaze trails away from Sam’s lips and lands on his eyes, which are looking right at him.

“I thought I was the one with the staring problem,” Bucky jokes, embarrassment creeping into his chest.

“Maybe I get it now.” Sam mutters, his eyes moving to Bucky’s own lips.

Bucky’s heart thumps against his chest as Sam takes a step closer, his eyes not moving from Bucky’s face.

“The fish…” Bucky mutters dumbly, not sure what to do as Sam hovers his mouth over his.

“They can wait,” Sam whispers.

Bucky holds his breath, waiting for Sam to close the gap.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss me?” Bucky mutters when he starts getting impatient.

He feels Sam’s smile when their lips finally press together.

It’s exactly how Bucky predicted, every sensation he feels from the gentle movement of their lips makes him fill with a kind of peace he’s never felt before. Even the harsh brush of their stubbles send tingles down his spine.

Sam brings a hand up to cup Bucky’s chin and Bucky almost moans. Finally, he thinks to himself and his arms move almost desperately grabbing at Sam’s waist and neck.

Sam smirks against his lips, “I didn’t think you’d be this handsy,” he laughs.

“I’m not, just with you.” Bucky mutters before going back for another kiss.

It’s a while later before they break apart, panting against each other.

“God, I’m gonna get an earful from Carlos and the guys for this.” Sam laughs to himself,

“Why?” Bucky asks, smiling as he rubs a thumb over Sam’s neck.

“They were insisting we were into each other and I kept pretending I wasn’t, and being like ‘you’re crazy!’”

Bucky smiles, “to be fair, it took me a while to realise,” he starts, “so it wasn’t your fault. I was just a bit slow.”

“Well you are old,” Sam says.

Bucky pinches his side and Sam jumps.

“Hey! You little-” Sam cuts himself off as he sniffs the air then turns around quickly.

“Fuck-” Bucky says once he follows Sam’s gaze,

“The fish!” Sam yells and quickly takes the burnt pieces of fish off of the grill.

Bucky huffs a laugh that earns him a stern look from Sam.

“This is your fault, asshole!” Sam snaps,

Bucky gapes, “what the hell? I literally warned you about the fish!” He counters,

“Well you didn’t try to remind me or anything!” Sam shoots back as he starts cutting the charred pieces off of the fish.

“Sorry doll, I guess you’re just too distracting.” Bucky says sarcastically but the way he looks at Sam shows it really isn’t sarcastic at all.

“There’s no time for any more distractions,” Sam nudges Bucky towards the house, “go tell Sarah what you’ve done to the damn food.”

“Probably sparing some details, right?” Bucky quips before he heads out, smiling at the flustered muttering Sam does as he leaves.

That night, as they’re eating the dinner that Sarah cursed them out for messing up, Bucky finds his eyes landing on Sam, naturally. This time he doesn’t stop himself from reaching his foot out to lock with Sam’s. Sam’s hidden smile is as soft as Bucky feels; how Bucky has always felt when he touches Sam. Only, now, Bucky understands exactly why.

#sambucky #sambucky fic #bucky barnes #sam wilson

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

*****************************

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.

#Buckybingo #New Hair cut square #Sam Wilson x Female Reader #Bucky Barnes x Female Reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x F!Reader #Sam Wilson x F!Reader #TFATWS fiction

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

They’re Sayin’ (You’re Gonna Be My Man)

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2217

Summary: Sam calls Bucky too soon after he's left Louisiana, looking for advice he doesn’t really need and getting a conversation he didn’t really expect.

Sam’s supposed to wait until news of the Flag-Smashers’ movements comes down the line to get in touch with Bucky. He doesn’t. It’s sooner. It’s almost right away.

He’s sure Bucky’s gotta be out of the state, but he doesn’t know whether he’s made it back to this alleged apartment in Brooklyn (on some level, Sam’s aware that he keeps making jokes about the conspiracy of the apartment’s existence because it’s his way of daring Bucky to invite him over sometime). When he calls Bucky up, he knows he might catch him on a plane, in a cab, with a buzz of voices around him as he scowls at strangers in an airport or stomps down a sidewalk. But, other than Bucky’s voice on the other end, Sam just hears quiet, so he figures the guy made it home.

“You never told me if you had any tips,” Sam accuses straight off.

Shifting his feet, he tamps down more of the grass he’s been practicing on, squinting when sweat rolls into his eye. He just finished a brisk mile with the shield on his arm, getting used to the weight and the bulk of it, and he’s ready to start throwing again.

“Tips for what?” Bucky asks. “Fixing the boat? General life stuff? I know we had a good talk, but I think I take advice better than I give it.”

“Which is not saying much,” Sam points out with a laugh. “You suck at taking advice.”

“Until recently.”

“Until recently,” Sam allows. He takes a deep breath and leans over to the side, stretching from his run and tapping his hand on the Vibranium disc currently propped against his leg. “Nah, man, for the shield. How to throw it, how to catch it, how to pull off some of Steve’s fuckin’ boomerang tricks.”

“I thought you were gettin’ the hang of it,” Bucky says in his ear.

“I am. I just realized that, when I had you here, you did a lot of standing around and catching the shield on that cyborg arm of yours. Not a lot of active advice-giving.”

“You really want me telling you how to do your job?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody said that. I am simply aware of the fact that you’re one of very few people alive who’ve handled this thing, and maybe the only one who did it with any actual competence.”

“The level of flattery is astounding,” Bucky says dryly.

“You want more, you gotta help me out,” Sam jokes back.

“Well, show me what you’re doin’.”

Sam glances around himself. Flat lawn. Waning daylight. Tall trees wrapped in the pads he’s been ricocheting the shield off of. No place good to prop his phone.

“I gotta get somebody to film me,” he realizes. “Lemme call you back.”

“Everybody’s gonna be filming you with the shield pretty soon. Only question is whether you’re doing something impressive in news footage or looking like a jackass in some kind of Avengers’ Greatest Fuckups reel.”

“Shut the hell up. I thought we were gettin’ along now.”

“Just trying to be motivational. Am I not doing it right?”

“I think you better look up the word ‘motivational’ in the dictionary while you wait for my call,” Sam suggests.

He disconnects and hangs his head, shaking it even as he smiles.

His legs are screaming for a thorough, post-workout stretch and maybe some ice on his shins—they’ve been taking the brunt every time he digs his feet into the ground and braces to snatch the returning shield from the air—but what’s another quarter mile? Sam runs to Sarah’s, arms pumping, stride a little different now that he has to accommodate the shape of the shield.

When he gets there, the boys are playing soccer on the lawn and he calls through the screen window to the kitchen to get his sister’s ok to borrow them as his training assistants. They get even more excited by the bestowing of this title and its implied responsibility than by the sight of the shield. That’s pretty incredible. Sarah caves to a temporary borrowing (supper’s almost ready) and they’re off.

On the way back, Sam lets AJ carry the shield. Seems like a nice break for himself until Cass requests a piggyback.

“Alright,” Sam agrees with a sigh, crouching in front of his nephew. “Hop on.”

Captain America’s benevolence is limitless. At least, it is this evening. When his back’s killing him tomorrow from absorbing the shock of a hundred shield throws, he will not be so easily persuaded into giving piggybacks.

In the clearing, Sam pulls his phone from the zipped pocket of his shorts and videocalls Bucky, who picks up on the first ring. His face is too close to the camera, but it’s good to see those blue eyes and the crinkles that are either there because he’s smiling in greeting or he’s confused about how a videocall works. In a few seconds, Bucky figures out for himself that he needs to hold the phone farther away. It makes Sam miss him. Also makes him a little worried because he can see the blank, white wall of Bucky’s apartment around his head. No paint, no art. Sam can’t even hear a TV or anything in the background.

“You’re not busy,” he observes.

“Not really, no,” Bucky admits.

“You coulda stayed here longer.”

“Nah, you needed time with everything, not me constantly looking over your shoulder. Shield’s yours now, Sam. I’m gonna be at your side, but you and the shield… I got no say in what that relationship is. I understand that now and I’m trying to respect it.”

“So when you’re actually doing the right thing, let you back off?”

“That’s right,” Bucky agrees.

“I’ll try to remember in case it ever happens again.”

Before Bucky can defend himself against Sam’s teasing jab, Sam passes the phone to AJ, camera turned so Bucky will still be focused on him when he starts throwing the shield again.

“Got you propped up on my human tripod,” he informs Bucky, reaching above the phone to playfully shove the side of AJ’s head. “So watch your mouth.”

“Can I say hi?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Sam warns.

And, of course, Bucky eggs the kids into a long ooooh, like they’ve caught him breaking his own rule. Which they have. But Bucky was being a smartass and the opportunity to let him know is not something Sam likes to pass up.

He’s stretching now—maybe for himself, maybe for the camera pointed his way—gripping his ankles in turn and holding his heels to his ass until he feels the pull in his thighs. Bucky’s not wrong about having this time to himself. Just him and this legendary object that’s feeling more right on his arm every time he slips it through the straps. Still, he misses what they had going the last two days. Not him and the shield, but him and Bucky. Having him here like that… It was different from every other experience Sam’s had with him. Bucky was still, in turns, a grouch and a showoff and a staring machine and a shithead (flirting with Sarah, come ON), but he was also more convincingly a person than Sam’s had the pleasure of seeing him before. At ease and multi-faceted by nature instead of the necessity of adapting in the face of a threat.

Bucky smiled.

They didn’t always bicker.

He looked damn good in the morning when they leaned against the kitchen counter, not talking, sipping their coffee.

Sam wants those minutes back so bad. Living with Bucky here was incomparable to living with him overseas. Lotta reasons for that, including not having to share the space with Baron Zemo. Mostly because this is home and Sam liked pretending, while Sarah did some well-deserved sleeping in and the boys got the hems of their pajama pants wet in the dew in the backyard, that it was real. That this breath between their fights (no longer with each other) could last and that this is where they’d hold it. It could be their kitchen, their mugs, their tousled sheets Bucky’d climbed out of, looking all rumpled and lovely and shit.

But Bucky doesn’t know what Sam pretends and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to tell him. He’s just going to keep faithful to their usual dynamic, trying for less glaring. Not a word to unsettle things, as much as he’s curious how they might handle things being unsettled. As much as his mind plays back the blinding glint off the water as they rolled up their sleeves and went to work together in a way more meaningful, more personal, than they ever have before. Plays it back all the time.

No. Quiet. Sam needs to figure himself out first and knows Bucky’s working on doing the same. Maybe sometime—but probably never—they can see how those selves overlap. All they need to make fly right now is being Captain America and… what’d that moron call himself? The White Wolf? Son of a biscuit…

“Let me see him!” Cass says excitedly, recapturing Sam’s focus.

It’s his brother he’s talking to and Sam watches fondly as AJ turns the phone to show Bucky a grinning Cass, being careful to keep it steady. Pretty damn sweet. Cass even waves while Sam stands there, watching and doing shoulder rolls.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!”

Sam feels like he just whipped the shield out and caught the return in his stomach. He strides over to the boys and AJ passes the phone back without being asked. He’s stifling giggles despite or because he senses that his little brother shouldn’t have said that.

“One minute,” Sam tells Bucky, hardly glancing at him because he just can’t. He tilts the camera towards the ground and raises expectant eyebrows at his grinning nephews. “Did somebody tell you to call him that?”

In unison, the boys go, “No, Uncle Sam,” which is suspiciously adorable. But they aren’t liars.

“Did you hear somebody call him that?”

AJ and Cass glance at each other and that’s enough for Sam. They won’t answer, so he knows it’s Sarah who’s made this joke, put this idea in the kids’ heads. They won’t give her up though, because they’re Wilsons and they’re loyal to their mother.

Sam turns the camera back on himself, unprepared for the upward tick at the corner of Bucky’s lips that make them even harder to look away from than usual.

“My sister must’ve—”

“I know,” Bucky interrupts.

“You know?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me that to my face.”

“She did what?”

Sarah having her joke is one thing, but saying it to Bucky takes things a little far, in Sam’s opinion. Bucky could think Sarah’s serious. He could think she’s saying that because Sam’s said something to her. Something about coffee and bedsheets and the sweet ache he felt in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smile in the golden light of dawn.

“Last night, before she put the boys to bed. You were in the shower, I think.” Bucky reaches up absentmindedly to run a hand over the top of his head; the flex of his bicep in the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing and waiting for the end of this recollection are both torture for Sam. “They wanted to hang out with me, but Sarah said, ‘Uncle Bucky’s gotta get some sleep. You’ll see him tomorrow.’ Something like that.”

Now, when Sam’s truly learning the meaning of flabbergasted, Bucky’s mouth cracks into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“You made that up,” Sam guesses helplessly.

“Nope.”

Sam knows that, with his nephews’ inability to lie and Sarah’s lifelong history of messing with him as evidence, but it would’ve been a convenient escape from the reality of his sister (and possibly the boys too) addressing Bucky as if he and Sam are together.

“Tell me you told my sister to drop the ‘Uncle.’”

Another thing Sam knows: that Bucky didn’t do that. Bucky seems happy to prove his fears correct; he shrugs.

“Sounded kinda nice,” Bucky defends. That makes Sam soften. He knows Bucky doesn’t have any living family, that he’s been struggling to allow himself to make friends. Maybe he just likes being told he belongs to them and that Sarah’s joke makes it effortless for him. Then, Bucky adds, “Pass me back to my nephews.”

Sam points a warning finger at him.

“Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The crease between Bucky’s eyebrows deepens as Sam watches the pain in the ass pretend to be stern with him. “Just throw the damn shield. I thought you asked for my help.”

“I did.”

Releasing a cautious sigh, Sam hands the phone to AJ once more. The boy’s got his silliness under control and he accepts the job solemnly.

Sam’s two steps away, hefting the shield onto his arm, when he hears Bucky shout, “And my hand in marriage!”

The boys’ laughter has them rolling on the cool grass, the phone clutched in AJ’s grip, and by the time Sam wrestles it away from his nephew, the camera’s swung all over the place. Showing Bucky the sky, the dirt, some quality footage up AJ’s nose, and probably—almost definitely—the way his words made Sam smile.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes #sambucky

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verobatto · 4 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXXX

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Is Not Allowed (Part I)

(12x10a)

Hi my dears! And we arrived to one of our favorite Destiel episodes: 'Lily Sanders has some regrets.'

We have a lot of Destiel to discuss here, more of it you have read for sure already in this fandom, because we are late with the subtext, but I decided to divide this meta in two parts.

Married Couple and the Third Wheel

When the episode starts, we have our little moose and Dean having this peculiar dialogue...

SAM: I don't think we have the kind of mom who's gonna stay home and make us chicken soup for dinner, you know? You talk to Cass yet?

DEAN: No.

Sam jumps from mom, one of Dean's concerns, to Cas. He has to take this chance, and he's asking because we could assume, he was seeing something odd between them going on. (Poor third wheel), he noticed, as the insightful person Sam is, Dean and Cas are not talking to each other. He had noticed the awkward silence...

I want to hug that moose...

SAM: So, what, you're just gonna keep walking past each other in the kitchen, not saying a word?

DEAN: Maybe.

I love Yockey, because he's pointing here through Sam's lines how Dean and Cas behave like two lovers fighting. Is a married couple, and he's the poor kid in the middle. And I love his body language, because he is moving the chair as if it was a game in the park, while looking at his brother like "you are two kids. You are so in love and fight like two love birds." Hope in his eyes, because he's making his brother talk with him about Cas. This is a perfect parallel to season 8, the bunker again, and Dean mad at Cas again, but this time Sam is more used to it. And kind of amused.

SAM: Look, yes, Cass killed Billie, but he saved us. He saved Mom. How long are you gonna stay pissed?

DEAN: I'm not pissed that he cares about us, you know. I'm – I'm grateful. But Billie said there would be “cosmic consequences” if that deal got broken. You have any idea what that means?

SAM: No.

DEAN: Neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it ain't jellybeans and g-strings.

SAM: My point is, Cas thought he was doing the right thing.

CAS: I was doing the right thing.

Sam is always Castiel's attorney, he was that in season 8 saying 'Is Cas!", And he is now trying to make his brother to understand why Cas did it.

Sam is saying what Dean always says about Cas, but is not working this time, because they're already married hahahaa. Sorry. But is true.

And the bickering continues...

CAS: No. This is personal.

DEAN: Meaning what?

CAS: Another angel. An old friend. He called out for help.

DEAN: Oh. Good old reliable angel radio.

May I point here how jealous is Dean? Because every time Cas mentions angels or Heaven, he is there to spread his jealousy all over. Just thinking about Cas coming back to Heaven or to his old Garrison, makes Dean lose it.

CAS: He was begging for help and then he just stopped. I need to know if he's still alive.

SAM: Yeah, all right. Well... we'll come with you.

CAS: Both of you?

There comes the sassy look, I love it, Cas is so done with Dean's attitude, but he is not aware he's acting just like him. I know Sam is saying 'Kiss already!'

DEAN: Sure. Yeah, we could help. Gotta make sure you don't do anything else stupid.

Dean's favorite quote to exasperate his angel... The level of bickering is reaching the top, but there's still even more... Are you praying for Sammy?

The awkward silence in the car makes Sam wanting to die. Is the same sensation an old friend feels when an old couple is fighting, and he knows both of them. Being in the middle of that war is stressing.

We, as spectators, don't know if we should laugh or just feel sorry for Sam.

Is a very uncomfortable situation...

Thank you Yockey for writing this clearly as two men in love fighting, making it blatant to any eye watching.

Because we have the exaggerating reactions, the rolling eyes, the frowns and the sassiest quotes and looks. And the jealousy at his maximum expression. YES, DEAN AND CAS ARE IN LOVE AND THEY'RE FIGHTING.

SAM: All right. Guys, you know what? This – this silent treatment thing, it's silly. It's not gonna work. Whatever we're walking into, we should, you know, probably have an actual plan.

Sam is so done with it, he's just throwing some reason over there.

CAS: (sighs) What do you wanna know?

DEAN: Oh, he speaks.

SAM: Enough. Cass, you said when you heard Benjamin, he – he was screaming.

Okay, Sam is scolding his brother, because he had just asked them to stop, and he keeps acting like a child, so, time to stop him.

CAS: It was, um... Look, Benjamin wouldn't call for help lightly. And he wouldn't put himself in harm's way if he could help it.

DEAN: Wow, this Benjamin seems like he's pretty cool, you know. Like he wouldn't make any half-cocked, knee-jerk choices.

Well, look at this, Dean is far from stop, he is trying to annoy Castiel even more. Trying to throw a little of irony, and Cas will reply with some acid words...

Gif set credit @shirtlesssammy 👇

CAS: Yeah, you know what I like about him? Is that he's sarcastic, but he's thoughtful and appreciative, too.

DEAN: Now what is that supposed to mean?

SAM: Okay, okay, the road, road. Dude, watch the road.

This is one of my fav scenes, because he got so jealous over Castiel's words about Benjamin, that is hilarious, he even turns around to face the angel, ignoring he was the driver, and is SO SO BLATANT, AGAIN, SO CLEAR TO OUR EYES THEY'RE TWO LOVE BIRDS FIGHTING.

What is allowed

Let's jump now into a concept that will be explored this season and the following. Something that every angel has written in his brains: Sacred Oath.

Yockey will show us in this episode the two difference about what is allowed and what is not allowed to angels about their relationships with humans.

Pay attention to Castiel's words here...

CAS: Benjamin is always very careful. Long ago, he found a powerfully devout vessel in Madrid, and her faith, it... she gave him everything – her trust and her body.

This speech Cas makes about Benjamin and her female vessel, is nothing else than a profound bond, when he says 'she gave him everything--her trust her body.' He's talking about which kind of relationship is allowed for an angel to have with a human. Sharing vessel, is an intimate act of trust and submission. But the way Cas is talking about it, the sentiment he put on those words, is talking about something else there. So maybe Benjamin and this woman fell in love, and the only allowed way to share their lives together, was through sharing vessel. @emblue-sparks has a very interesting analysis about how this premise introduced by Yockey could be taken as a theory of Dean and Cas sharing vessels since season 13. You can find their thoughts here. I based my current Destiel endgame spec on this too, and in more clues I found mostly in season 15. You can find that spec here.

DEAN: Wait. So Benjamin's a woman.

CAS: Benjamin is an angel. His vessel is a woman. But it – it's – it's more than that. She's not just his vessel.

SAM: She's... She's his friend.

CAS: Yeah. Benjamin would never put her in unnecessary danger.

And we love Yockey, shows us here the genderless nature of angels, based on the vessels. When he says BENJAMIN IS AN ANGEL, he is saying he is not a woman, not a man, even when his pronoun is He/Him.

There will be another example when Yockey shows us fem vessel! Castiel.

When Cas says 'it's more than that. She's not just his vessel." Is giving us clues, again, about the kind of profound bond Benjamin and the spanish woman shared.

I have to cut the analysis here, and I will let the "not allowed" topics for the next meta.

To Conclude:

I consider Yockey as the Destiel guide writer in Dabb's team. Each episode he wrote, he made a guide with steps our ship will follow in the incoming chapters.

This time he is putting in order a couple of concepts about angels, allowed relationships with humans and forbidden relationships.

This is very important to understand Castiel's POV about his own feelings for Dean.

He wrote an old married couple bickering, and Sam represented all of us, trying to survive to uncomfortable silences and bitterness.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @nickelkit @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas from this season, here you have the links:

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX

Buenos Aires, September 22th 2020 7:03 PM

#destiel chronicles #destiel #destiel meta #season 12 meta #s12 meta #Vol. LXXX

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 3 years

Text

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) - Part 11

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

Sam was going crazy. Cooped up in this fucking house. And sure, the house was big, really big. There was a fucking bowling alley downstairs for fucks sake. But he'd been stuck here. Not able to leave. And his skin was starting to itch. He'd been Steve's eyes in the neighborhood, always out in the streets, mingling. He was a people person. And now he was stuck inside, with only a handful of people. His only visitor an annoying mercenary with an insubordinate streak a mile fucking long.

Sam rubbed as his temple and stood up, pausing, not sure exactly where he was intending to go. He flexed his hand, the bruise there staining his knuckles. He sighed and moved around his desk, walking out the door and down the hall. He might as well get in his daily laps while he was sitting around doing nothing. He trotted down the flight of stairs behind the kitchen, down to the pool. A bowling alley, an Olympic size swimming pool, what more could he want.

He changed in the locker room and dove in. Swimming lap after lap as he tried to calm his racing throughts. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. Steve in charge. Him making the rounds to the businesses, chatting with all their friends and contacts. He paused to take a breath, holding onto the edge of the pool. He'd sent people to check on them, to make sure they were okay after everything.

A few of them had already been taken by other families. They'd whispered their apologies in back allies and then scurried away, in fear for their livelihoods and their familes no doubt. Sam needed this plan to go smoothly. He needed this shit to end. So he could lay some ground work and get his people back. He still didn't trust Bucky. Not really. He was efficient. And he was loyal. But he was loyal to Steve. And Sam wasn't Steve. Never would be.

He pushed off the wall and dove under again, letting the water move agaisnt his skin as he swam, thinking about how easy it had been to corral them all. Steve had watermarks in his desk, watermarks from all the other families. It was easier to manipulate people when they thought someone else was doing it. He'd sent letters. To each family. From each other. Requesting a gathering, to make plans. Plans to get rid of that unworthy inheritor that had been given Steve's empire.

He smiled to himself as he swam. The best thing about letters like that, was that no one responded to them. Not ever. They never wanted to leave more of a trail than they had to.

Sam swam a few more laps and then lay back in the water. Staring at the ceiling as his heartrate slowed. He sighed deeply and then climbed out of the pool, grabbing his towel and patting at his face. His phone buzzed against the concrete floor. Sam looked down and saw his sisters name lighting up his phone, his stomach twisted. He draped his towel over his shoulders and grabbed his phone, sliding his finger across the screen and pressing it too his ear.

"Unbelievable." Sarah's voice says, and he can hear the anger through the phone.

"I'm fine Sarah." He sighs.

"You're fine? Oh you're fine! Praise be! He's fine everyone! Sam Wilson is fine!" The dramatics make him smile though he knows she's angry.

"I am fine. You got my text didn't you?" Sam asks, and starts pacing.

"Yes. I got your text. 'I'm okay. Don't worry.' That text? That you sent me as I watched them carry body after body out of that goddforsaken house." She nearly growled. Sam grimaced.

"Yeah. That text." He said.

"Yeah. I got that text." She said, her voice low.

"Look, I'm sorry okay? I know I should have called. It's just- things have been a little crazy here." He sighs, his feet moving him back and forth across the floor. He rubs at the back of his neck.

"People have been watching me. I can't even leave this fucking house! And I didn't wanna risk calling you. Okay?" He asks, pleading with his sister. He knows she's never agreed with what he does, but she never fully disowned him. They talk once a month. A monthly phone call is what she gives him, and he takes it. He hears her take a deep breath and let it out, can see her trying to get herself under control.

"But you're okay? Really?" She asks, sounding more concerned than angery now.

"Yes. Mostly. I will be. I- you don't like to hear about it. But I'll be fine soon." He says, trying not say anything she doesn't want to hear.

"Okay. But Sam. Something ever happens like that again. You call me." She says, the anger is back, but it's... different. Familial. Sam smiles into the phone.

"Yes Ma'am." He says, and Sarah laughs, easing the tension in Sam's shoulders.

"How are the boys?" Sam asks, crossing his free arm over his chest.

"They're great. They're at school right now. But they told me to tell you hi before they left. Cass wanted me to tell you he got first at the science fair. And AJ won a writing competition, got his poem in the town newspaper and everything." She chuckles, Sam can see her shaking her head, but he hears the pride in her voice, and feels it swelling in his own chest.

"That's amazing. Tell them I'm proud. Of both of them." He says, and he knows he sounds sad.

"I will. Of course I will." Sarah says.

"You're doing great with them." He says after a moment. And she laughs again.

"I know." She says.

"But thank you." And he hears the smile again.

"You won't be able to come visit for Christmas will you?" She asks, sadness tinting her voice now. Sam closes his eyes, lets his head fall back. It's the only time he sees them in person all year.

"No. I don't think so. There's... too much, going on. I wouldn't feel safe." He says, shaking his head, wishing he could reach out and touch her, hug her. He misses them all so much.

"Okay. I just needed to know so I could tell the boys. I already kind of assumed. Mentioned you might not be able to make it." She says, and he hears her sniffle. Feels his throat burning.

"Tell them I'm sorry. I just-" he takes a deep breath, trying to force his throat to open.

"I need to know you're safe. All of you. I can't risk it." He says.

"I know. Sam I know that. Don't think I don't know what you do for this family. I may not agree with everything you do. But I know you're a good man. You always have been." She's quick to reasure him. Sam feels that ever present stab of guilt.

"Sarah." He says.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I'm just- I'm just so sorry." Sam says, as the burning in his eyes runs over, hot tears dripping down his face.

"I know baby brother. We're all just out here trying to survive." She says. Sam smiles, their parents words sounding so right echoing through her.

"Yeah. Some days are just harder than others." He continues the well worn conversations.

"Alway were." She says, and he can hear her smiling again.

"Always will be." Sam finishes, both of them laughing now. Sam hears footsteps behind him and wipes at his face before turning around. He sees Torres standing by the door. The kids gives him a little wave and then steps back outside. Sam sighs.

"Sarah-"

"I know that tone." She cuts him off.

"You gotta go." She says.

"I gotta go." He agrees, his head dropping a bit as his fingers fiddle with his towel.

"I miss you Sam. Please take care of yourself." She says, sniffling again.

"I will. I promise. You give those boys my love." He says, wiping at his eyes again.

"I will. Talk to you soon baby brother. I love you." She says, her voice almost a whisper.

"I love you too Sarah." He says, sighing as the line clicks. He takes a deep breath, kneels by the pool to splash water on his face before patting it dry again. He grabs his clothes and heads for the door Torres had popped in and out of. He's standing right outside when Sam pushes through it.

"She doin okay?" Torres asks, his voice soft. Sam nods, his lips curving just a little.

"She's good."

"Good." Torres nods.

"Helen visited the bakery today. Jimmy said the other familes have been sending people in. They trashed the store front last night. She said he looked scared." Torres says, back to business as they begin walking down the hall. Sam thinks for a second, nods.

"Let's give him some protection. We can afford leaving a few people there with him. Send Maria with a couple guys. She can pick who, she's knows her people. They can figure out what works best and then she can come back here." Sam says, another sigh escaping him.

"Will do." Torres nods, his hands going into his pockets, something he only ever does in the house, Sam had noticed. His relaxed decorum never showing around others.

"Jimmy's been loyal. And he's a good man. He deserves to feel safe." Sam says, stopping in front of his room. Torres nods again and then smiles when he looks at Sam.

"Plus he makes like, the best bread we've ever eaten." He says, licking his lips. Sam chuckled, glad for the small joke.

"Yeah his breads fucking amazing." Sam agrees, letting himself smile for awhile longer.

"I'll go tell Maria. Help her get some things together." He says, stepping away.

"Torres." Sam calls, stopping him.

"I want you to send Helen to the warehouse. Have her scope it out. She can take a few people with her too, get it done faster." Sam says, scratching at his scalp. Torres nods again.

"Have her put up some cameras too. Small ones." Sam says then, quietly.

"Cameras. You still don't trust him?" Torres asks.

"This isn't about trust, necessarily. I just wanna see-" Sam cuts off. What is it exactly he wants to see? He's not sure.

"I just need to see that it's done." He says, brow furrowed. Torres looks at him, his eyes moving over Sam's face. The kid is so observant Sam's a bit worried about what he might see.

"Live feed cameras then?" Is all he asks. Sam's eyes jump to his face, a smirk forming as he looks at the kid.

"Yes. I think live feed cameras are an excellent idea." Sam says, inclining his head. Torres mirrors him and takes a step backward before turning to go.

"I'll have Maria bring us back some bread as well." He calls over his shoulder, making Sam laugh again as he steps into his dark bedroom. He leans against the door in the dark, not sure that spying on Bucky Barnes is the best idea he's ever had. But he's curious. And Sam knows what people say about curiosity, what everyone says, but they always forget that second part.

Sam needs to this ended. Or probably started. Like this would ever really end things. But he needs to send them all a fucking message. He needs the satisfaction this will bring. He needs these fucking familes to know that Sam Wilson is not someone to be fucking trifled with.

#sambucky #winter falcon #sambucky fic #winter falcon fic #dirty deeds part 11 #sambucky mob au #DD(DDC)#DD #my writing

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vansmaybeonthewall · 4 years

Text

Another One?

Masterlist

requests are open

i did promise something to my fellow Misha’s and it has been fulfilled

(don’t judge the choices I make, no God can tame me)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So get this. Lake Cachuma, California. Three men found dead with their ears blown out. All three found at the same place, at the edge of a dock leading into the water.”

“And this is our thing how?”

“Well, they weren’t taking some lovely vacation Dean. All three were found in their suits with a little note spilling their secret infidelities.”

“That’ll do it. Do we have a lead?”

“Yeah, Cassandra Peters. Senior at Santa Barbara High School, her dad was the most recent victim.”

“I hope you packed your bikini Sammy, California here we come.”

A Few Hours Later...

Yeah, it wasn’t sunny and warm as Dean Winchester expected. Cloudy skies and a light breeze greeted Sam and Dean as they arrived at the Peters household. Thunder rumbled in the distance, signifying a coming storm.

“Still ready for that swim Dean?”

“Oh shut up.”

“I don’t think you’ll need sunscreen anymore, I know how much you hate it.”

“Sam-

“Um, can I help you?”

The argument came to a halt when a young girl opened the door.

“Cassandra Peters?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind if we talk to you about-”

“My dad’s death? So does everyone else, so how are you any different?”

Sam and Dean were left speechless. Sure there were people who were defensive after a family death, but a teenage girl? Usually, day old mascara streaks could be seen with red, teary eyes. But Cassandra Peters? Her face was void of any emotion with dull eyes.

“We know what it’s like,” Dean started, “to lose someone.”

“Yeah well, do you know what it’s like to learn that that person wasn’t someone you knew?”

“We understand if you don’t want to talk about it, nobody does, but sometimes it’s easier to tell someone how you actually feel.” Sam hoped that was enough to get the girl talking.

She looked slightly guilty, I mean, they looked like nice guys.

“Look, I’m sorry. A friend of mine taught me to stop the tears with being an asshole. I don’t see how it works or how she does it, but I guess it’s a coping mechanism. Not for me I suppose.”

“Believe us when we say we understand.”

“Well, seeing as you’re still here, ask away.”

“Okay, was there anything strange that occurred around the time your dad died?”

“Well besides the weather, I don’t think so. Like the two before, a rain storm hit without warning. The streets flooded, you could barely see in front of you.”

“What about your dad? Did he seem strange to you?”

“Yeah, maybe two days before he seemed nervous, scared. He kept saying someone was following him. Some girl in a white dress.”

“Did he say what she looked like?”

“You see, that’s the strange part. He said he saw Y/N, which is weird because she was with me or in rehearsal. And there is no way Y/N would skip rehearsal.”

“Do you know where we can find Y/N?”

“She should be at rehearsal now actually. She’s not in trouble is she?”

“No, we just need to check up on her, have a little chat.”

“She’s at the high school, but be careful, she really doesn’t like being interrogated about her parents or any family related subject. She gave me the tip of being an asshole instead of being depressed, still not seeing how that works.”

“Can we ask why?”

“Her step-dad was the first victim.”

“Right. Well, if you think of anything, give us a call. Even the smallest thing can help.”

Dean handed her the famous “business” card, which made Cassandra do a double-take.

“Sam and Dean Winchester? As in Y/N Winchester?”

“Sorry?”

“Y/N Winchester, that’s who I’m talking about. You have the same name. Now come to think of it, you guys kind of look alike.”

Cassandra pulls a picture from her phone.

“This is Y/N.”

Sam and Dean share a look, one between shock and nervousness.

“Would you, uh, would you mind telling us about her?” Dean asked, afraid to know the truth.

“I don’t see why not, this is some TV shit. But you should probably come in, the rain won’t be getting any better.”

The Peters household was quiet and empty. Even with all the lights on, the house was dark. What captured the brother’s attention was the pictures of Cassandra and Y/N.

“So what do you wanna know?”

“Anything really.”

“Okay. Y/N Marie Winchester, where to start. Born June 25, 1989, she’s a Cancer. Tall, like you two. She has the kindest eyes, when she looks at her it’s like she can see into your soul. She acts tough at first, but once she lets you in she’s one of the funniest people you’ve ever known. Oh, absolutely hates dresses, her favorite things to wear are flannels and her leather jacket. God that leather jacket, she never takes that thing off. She loves to sing, always has. She doesn’t like to get close to people, it’s like she’s afraid they’ll get hurt or that maybe she’ll have to leave them behind.”

Sam smiled softly and Dean held a thoughtful look, Could there really be another Winchester?

“Wait, she has your smile. And she has that same look when taking a test. Do you really not know if you’re related?”

“No, no Y/N Winchester has came up.”

“Well, I’ll take you to her. One, I’d love for Y/N to have her family. Two, I need a source of happiness and this family reunion will do it.”

“Lead the way.”

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“Okay, one more run through ‘World Burn’ and that’s a wrap. Y/N you ready?”

“Always.”

“Alright, from the top!”

Approx. a minute or two later, idk time

As the trio made their way to the theatre, Cassandra could hear the chorus.

“Come on! We’re gonna miss the best part.”

Lucky for them, they made it before the big note.

“Gotta love a woman in power. Wait here, I’ll bring her to you.” Cassandra jogs towards Y/N as she jumped offstage. Greeting her with a hug, she explains her predicament.

“A sister,” Dean started, “we might have a sister?”

“With the world we live in, I don’t find it impossible Dean.”

“But why would Dad-”

“Sam, Dean, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean. Winchester.”

“Okay, I get that, but that doesn’t automatically make us related Cass.”

“Stop being hard-headed. Why don’t you guys talk it out? I’ll meet up with Jessie. See you later jerk.” With that, Cassandra took a U-turn towards another student.

“Bitch.” Y/N called after her. She turned towards the two giants, making a face at their surprised ones. “What?”

“Nothing, do you mind if we talk to you outside?”

“I don’t see why not.”

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“Holy shit! Is that a 1967 Chevy Impala? Please tell me it’s yours, I’ll tell you all my life secrets if it is.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Dean stuttered. The information the brothers were learning kept hitting them in the face. Is she really a Winchester?

“Yes! Let us congregate at this lunch table and I’ll spill my tragic life story.”

“So, you sing?”

“Yeah, best thing that’s ever happened to me. Everyone says I took it from my mom, but who knows, not me that’s for sure. Me and Cass are also in a band, which reminds me, I have to be somewhere in two hours, so if we could do this a little fast that would be great thanks.”

Dean, unlike Sam, wanted to get straight to the point. Why ease into the subject when it is so painfully obvious she’s a Winchester?

“What do you know about your dad?”

“Not much really, I just know he took off before I was born. I lived with my mother until I was about 5. Then my quote unquote “dad” came back into my life and my mother disappeared. Stayed with him for about a year, met a lot of strange people, and I was finally dropped off with some random couple here. Terrible parenting, but here I am alive and well I guess. But he did leave me some sort of book, more of a copy.”

Both brothers were intrigued in her life story. A strange life, a Winchester life. Y/N pulled the book out of her backpack, but when she did her shirt allowed the top of the anti-possession tattoo to peak out. Everything was pointing towards the fact that the three were related, but we can’t have any stones left unturned can we?

“Did that book say anything about your dad? A name, a picture maybe?” Sam was anxious.

“There was a letter when the book was first given to me with the initials J.W. but that’s it. I don’t think he wants to be found.” A solemn look crossed her face. “Well, that was fun, but I have to go.”

“Wait-”

“Look, you guys seem nice and it would be cool if we were related somehow, but I have a place to be. You’re welcome to come by though. I’ll give you my number, and maybe we could talk tomorrow. I should have more time seeing that it is Saturday tomorrow. It was nice meeting you Sam and Dean. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

As she walked away, Sam and Dean formed a plan. First, kill whatever monster terrorizing the town, then find out who the hell Y/N Winchester was.

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So close, but apparently so far. Upon looking in the journal, Sam and Dean found a new monster, a siren. And though the monster seemed to be a siren, something wasn’t right. The bleeding ears made no sense. No siren case had bleeding ears. However, banshee cases dealt with bleeding ears, but no bodies near water. There was only one answer.

Break time.

Y/N had sent Dean a message about the bar her band would be at, so the brothers decided to find out as much as they could about the girl before heading there.

“Dean, there’s nothing in the journal and I’ve read through it twice, what else are we missing?”

“Missing...missing...missing! Sammy, you’ve outdone yourself.” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled the stolen letter.

“Dean!”

“What! It slipped out of her journal.” Bitchface. “Okay, maybe I slipped it out of her journal, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we can compare Dad’s handwriting with the letter. And then you can hack into hospital records to find her birth certificate.”

“I am not hacking into the hospital records.”

“Oh c’mon Sammy, don’t you want to know who she is?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t want to get arrested while doing it.”

“Whatever, just give me the journal.”

Dean was only going to skim over the handwriting before something caught his eye. Information that wasn’t shared lay on the paper. The J.W was obvious on the bottom, but what caught his eyes were his name, Sam’s name, and an unfamiliar one.

“That little bitch.”

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It took too long, it took too long, it took too long For you to call back And normally, I would just forget that Except for the fact it was my birthday My fuckin' birthday

Sam and Dean entered the bar, a bar that apparently allowed teenagers in, and spotted Y/N on the small stage. They could see why she needed to leave, not only to get them off her tail, but for all the other students partying their asses off.

We got along, we got along, we got along Until you did that Now all I want is just my stuff back Do you get that? Let me repeat that I want my shit back

“So what’s the plan?”

“One we have to get her away from everyone else. Two, we can’t let her out of our sight. Remember what Cassandra said, the weather aligns with a body being found the next day. And since we don’t know the next victim, we have to hold Y/N hostage somehow.”

“Where do we take her? She’s not going to abandon her friends Dean.”

“I don’t know, tell her we found something about Dad or her mom. Technically, we’re not lying, so don’t feel bad about it.”

“Yeah, yeah alright.”

The two parted ways, searching for inconspicuous exits while watching Y/N. Though, it didn’t take long before Y/N spotted Sam.

“Hey Sam, glad you made it. Where’s Dean?”

“He’s around here somewhere. Look, I needed to talk to you about your dad. We think we found something.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can.”

“Now’s not really a good time. We can’t pick this up tomorrow?”

“It’s ki-” “Sammy!”

“Oh hey Y/N, mind if we talk to you for a second?”

“I can’t leave-”

“Yeah, but we really need to talk to you.” Dean had a smug smirk holding up the letter.

“Fine.”

Outside...

“So Y/N, you got anything important to tell us?”

“Nothing you don’t already know Dean.”

“Wrong answer.”

“Dean-”

“No Sammy, she needs to start telling the truth before someone gets hurt. Like little Cassie’s dad or Jessie’s dad.”

“What do you want from me Dean?”

“You see, we were here on a case, but I bet you already knew that. Three people were killed, your step-dad, Matthew Jacobs, and Holt Peters, but you already knew that. All three said they saw a girl in white, and what do you know, it was you. We thought we solved the case, but nothing fit the banshee or siren profile. Imagine my surprise when I find my name along with Sam’s and a little gift. Athena Drea, some hybrid between a banshee and a siren. Fits the profile doesn’t it? Oh but that’s not all, Dad knew her, dear old John Winchester knew your mommy. And I’m betting that she disappeared because her time was up. What I don’t understand is your name? Why were you blessed with some form of mom’s name? What is so special about Y/N Marie Winchester?”

Angry tears streamed down Y/n’s face.

“Congratulations Dean Winchester. You figured me out.”

“Y/N-”

“No, it’s fine Sam, he’s right. What’s so special about me? The fact that I have no parents? That I have my mother’s powers? That I’m related to you? Nothing good comes with being me. There’s always a catch. Those people I killed? They tried to kill me first. Those lies about cheating, made them up. Yes it’s sick and twisted, but I’m still alive right? I’m lucky? I tried to protect you from knowing me, from being related to me. Why do you think I never reached out to you? Everyone around me gets hurt. My friends don’t know me like they think they do, I killed their dad! There is nothing special about me, and god if there is, I’d really like to know. Because all I know is that I’m a screw up with no family. So forgive me for running and lying.”

She tried to leave, but an arm on her shoulder prevented her from doing so.

“You two should go, leave before something else happens. There’s no monster to kill, but I’d gladly let you kill me. That wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened to me.”

“Y/N.”

She shrugged his hand off and started to run.

“Y/N!”

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“You were right, I should have never gotten attached.”

It was dark, the only source of light came from the moon. The sounds of the lake calmed Y/N from the harsh argument.

“People got hurt.”

The quiet brought her peace.

“Some were innocent. Cass and Jessie, they didn’t deserve their family to fall apart.”

It took Sam and Dean quite a while to find Y/N.

“I met them. Sam and Dean, they seem nice, but I screwed up mum. I lied and I don’t think they like me much anymore. It was nice to know that I had family out there. I know dad told me in the letter, but I didn’t think we would meet. You know how it goes, hunters and monsters don’t mix.”

Sneaking behind her wasn’t easy.

“I don’t understand mum. I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll have to leave and I won’t have anybody anymore.”

“You have us.”

She whipped around to find her brothers awkwardly standing there.

“What do you two bozos want?”

Sam took the initiative, “We want you to come with us.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re family,” Dean surprisingly said, “and family means no one gets left behind.”

With that, the three had a slightly awkward, yet welcomed group hug,

Hours later.....

Everything was sorted. Y/N was leaving with Sam and Dean, and it was exciting. No more school, Sam sort of disapproved on that. A constant road trip with her family. Although, they would encounter many obstacles in their journey.

Only one thing was left in Y/N’s mind. She sat in the backseat of the Impala and couldn’t resist it any longer.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just Lilo & Stitch me back there?” Sam laughed and Y/N started to giggle.

“Shut up.” But he looked out his window with a smile.

She really was a Winchester.

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #sister winchester #spn imagine

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

Text

Castiel: Ocean eyes

*Not My GIF*

Pairing: Castiel x Reader [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Warnings: cussing, cuteness, blindness to love. HAPPY ending

Rating: Adult Mature

Pov: Readers

Summary: Castiel cant seem to understand that the reader is in love with him, so the reader and Dean come up with an idea.

Word count: 1,866

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We all know how blinded Castiel is to like everything, so just close your eyes sit back and let me tell you how hard it was to love him and him understand that I loved him.

i pretty much had fallen in love with Cass when I first met him. Dean had told me not do that but Cass blue eyes and jawline had me the minute I saw him. dean and Sam had seen my fawned expression when he would shoot me down.

Dean was always there at your rescue. He'd tell me that it was Cass just being Cass, and that because Cass was an angel he didnt have emotions like love or pretty much anything else. According to Dean that was the reason it was okay for Cass to be a dick to me.

So for year, I made moves, undetectable moves. The sofy touches when Cass would come back from a hunt gone wrong. Just spending time with Cass trying to get close to him, physical and emotional. I was doing it, because no matter what the boys said I was going to try.

I still wonder what pushed him to say something to me, if it seeing me with someone else or the dress I had on that night.

We had a case that night that involved us all going to a mansion, it was a party. It was almost a ball but it was wasnt so we all had to dress nice.

Dean wore a dark purple suit which brought his green eye color out. Sam wore a deep blue suit which also brought his green, blue, brownish eyes out. Cass wore a darker suit color than he already wore and insisted that he keep his trenchcoat on, his suit also bringing out his ocean blue eyes.

Me on the other hand wore a red short dress, with the only pair of black heels. You see I had to choose between the 3 boys with who I was going to walk in with. I walked up the boys they all standing in the library all staring at me.

"So you gotta choose someone Y/n" Sam said. "ummm, how about Dean?" I said Dean looked up my body shaking his head, and walking towards me grabbing my arm, qalking me towards to Impala.

When we got out the venue. We went over the pla, we'd dance a little go find and kill the monster without any of the other people noticing, and then they would continue dancing to blend in with the rest of the people.

Sam walked in with Cass. Although Cass kept looking back like he didnt believe that I had chosen Dean instead of him. "Why'd you do that y/n?" Dean asked me as we walked towards the stairs. "Why'd I do what Dean?" I said back to him. Knowing what he was referring to. "You know exactly what I am talkin about. Choosing me over everyone else, which I personally don't mind, but you must know that this is going to do something to Cass right?"

"A kick in the ass" type of thing.Dhow hom what he might not get if he doesnt get his ass in gear and finally ask me out!" I said tugging Dean towards the huge front doors.

The thought may have crossed my mind when I frist choose, and I may have choosen Dean purposefully. Maybe it qss my way of kicking some sense into Castiel, or maybe it was my way of kicking some sense that I shouldn't just be looking at Cass maybw there is someone else that can handle the type of person I am.

Dean and I walked into the main room, a make shift ballroom. We looked around seeing Sam and Cass leaning up against the wall watching the other people dancing and drinking. Cass's eyes staying on Dean and I. Dean grabbed 2 champagne glasses that were pasting by us.

Handing one to me and keeping the other for himself. While I sipped at my drink Deans hand made its way around my wasit pulling me closer to his own body. The black slim high heels I wore that night allowed me to be close to Dean height.

Ad we walked around Cass's eyes again never left Deans hand that was still wrapped tightly around my wasit. I chuckled a little at an idea had gone throught my mind. Dean looked down at me asking me."What are you chuckling at or for?" He had that look that was almost like he knew he shouldn't have asked me what I was chuckling about.

"If you must know Dean, a very good but maybe bad just came up in my mind. Do you wanna hear it?" I asked Dean shook his head confirming that in fact he did want to hear my idea.

"I was just wondering how much wr could push "us" on to each other before Cass came out here and made an ass of himself. Trying to take me away from you." I said with a smirk written across my face. Took a little bot more of explaining until Dean finally caught on to my idea.

Our eyes locked, I finshed the remaining amount of my champagne placing it on the waiters table that was conveniently walking by us. This time I didnt care to look around for Cass to see if he was really there or not, I was going to enjoy myself regardless of who was watching and what we were really here for.

I also think that Dean was on the same train of thought not caring to mention that were here for a hunt or that we had a monster to kill. I grabbed Dean collar pulling him close to me. His hands landing on my hips, and my hands losening around his collar making there way to connect around his neck. "Chuck, if i didnt know any better I would say and anybody else would say we probably look like a couple form any direction." Dean said sending a ahiver down my spine. Ny body now pressed up against Deans muscled chest.

We danced all night missing the hunt. We had only danced for a few hours but if i had to be honest those hours were the best hours of my life since I would have to say since I met the two Winchester boys and Castiel. Sam came over tell yhe both of us that him and Cass had taken care of the hunt and that Castiel was currently waiting in the Impala.

We walked out an extra pep in my step letting my hips ass show the way for Dean. I could feel Deans eyes looking up and down my ass, all the way down to heels. But I couldn't figure out where the staring was coming from more specifically that was starring at my tits. Looking over at where the Impala sat there was infact not Sam sitting on the back end of Baby, but infact Castiel who was definitely starring about my tits.

Dean close behind me smaking my ass he finally caught up to me. the yelp that fell from my lips felt like so good. The stinging that was left behind because of how hard Deans hand came down on to my ass was even better. Dean then leaded me to the back door, opening the door and kissing my forehead before slamming the door shut, and walking around to start the engine up. Cass had to stop starring at the both of us when he knew that Dean was ready to get the car started. Sam was fast asleep, Dean driving sending me into a lullaby. The entire drive back to the bunker was quiet. I was looking out the Impala window, the trees, lights, and houses passing by us in what seemed like light speed.

Sam woke up, Dean getting out after cutting the engine and coming 9over to open my door. Cass was far in front of everyone else probably to pissed to realize he didnt have a key to the bunker door. I walked with Dean taking my high heels off since the dancing had most likely given me a few blisters.

Dean walked me to my bed room door kissing my forehead once again. "I hope tonight was just has wonderfu lfor you as it was me, and I also hope that this did something to kick Cass's ass into gear to finally say something about his feelings for you." Dean said. I kissed him on the cheek thanking him "You know if nothing come of him and his feelings what do you say you and I give us a shot. I'd say we be a pretty awesome fucking pair." I said he winked back at me and hugged me tightly then went to go to his room.

I turned around cathing Dean before he went into his room. "Can I ask a favor?" He walked back over to me humming. " What can I do for you y/n?" "Can you unzip me Deano!" I said with my own wink. He shook his head up and down putting his hands on my hips and lining them up with the zipper pulling it down to my hips. Once he was done I once again thanked him and walked in to my room shutting the door behind me.

I changed into an old borrowed flannel and a pair of my shorts. To see if Deans smack had left any marks yet qhich unfortunately they hadn't. I just had got under the cover a knock came to my door "Come in" was all I said. In walked a still suited up Castiel. Without any sort of hello or goodnight Cass came at with a shit ton of questions.

"What did you do with Dean? Why'd you choose him over me? Why'd you dance with him? Why'd you let him smack your rear like that?" He said in all the same breath.

"FUCKING HELL Cass stop!" I screamed at him. " Because Cas your so fucking blind to everything I ever did I only did everything tonight with Dean because we both it was going to kick you in the ass and make you finally expresse your feelings. But all you did was question me. Castiel I have loved you since the moment I first met you."

"Good because I think I love you too Y/n." Cass said coming to the side of my bed grabbing arms pulling me up into his chest and kissing me softly. I pulled him down into my bed with a snap of his fingers his suit was off leaving him in his white t shirt and underwear, i made space for him in my bed.

I feel asleep with the man I was in love with and am still in love with. His arms wrapped around me his heartbeat keepung md grounded. After now what only seems likes months, but has been 4 years of been with Castiel I am finally able to say that I truly happy with this man this Angel.

#castiel x reader #castiel #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #misha collins #castiel gif #Casgirl

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ravenforce · 4 years

Text

Cheating Death IV

Warning/s: Mentions of Violence. Angst (as promised).

A/N: Here ya go people. Your daily dose of pain. Enjoy!

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6

You were planning to check out a lowkey hole-in-a-wall pub tonight with Cass and Megan so you three can properly catch up without having to shout at each other over the loud music if you went to your usual club. But the universe has a wicked sense of you humour, and it turns out the club is exactly what you needed. Thankfully, your friends are intuitive enough to drive the batmobile directly to the outskirts of town.

“Get lost kids, this is a private club.” You heard the bouncer upfront said sternly to Cass and Megan. He’s at least two feet taller than you are, bulky as they should be. You strode over but a boy in line caught your arm.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’ve been for an hour and you think you can just walk up there and bypass the rest of us?”

Cass and Megan shivered at the dead look on your face. It feels like another lifetime when they last saw you sporting that look in your eyes. “This is trouble,” Megan whispered and tried to get to you but Cass stopped her.

“Let her be.”

The boy continued to shout at you along with other people on the line. “Unhand me,” you warned.

He didn’t. Instead, he continued to mock you. You sighed, the universe was definitely trying to get a rise out of you, and you’re not in the mood to be the bigger person. So, you put your hand over the boy’s hand and twisted it. Not a warning twist, no. You broke it off the socket, he yelled and cried like a baby.

Bouncers and security personnel came over to you and tried to rip you away from the boy but you were holding him tight. In every jerk, he cried out and beg for your mercy. The ruckus caught the attention of the club manager, so he went to see what’s the fuss.

“Holy shit! Stop! Take your filthy hands off her!” He yelled.

“I was starting to wonder, what a girl gotta do to get into her own club.”

Technically it’s your sisters but semantics. “Y/N,” the manager greeted. You look at the poor man-boy on his knees, with tears streaming down his cheeks before you threw him backwards and on his ass.

“Take the trash out and I want everyone out of the club.”

“Pardon?” The manager choked out.

You didn’t spare him another glance. You just continued walking towards the entrance.

“Did I stutter?”

The manager couldn’t do anything but ask each of his staff to herd everyone out.

***

“Get my seat out, now.” You commanded one of the staff. Everyone knows which one it is. There’s only one seat in the house the Al Ghul’s sat on. You, Cass and Megan, walked towards the bar and ordered a bottle of your favourite drinks each. The best vodka for you, and a bottle of Jack for Megan and Cass.

“Ma’am, your seats are ready.” On the way to the stage, you realized that not everyone has left as you wanted.

“Oh, oh,” Megan tutted behind you. You can feel your anger rising as you watch a table full of leather-clad men ignore you. Flashes of Natasha’s image with the blonde woman keeps surfacing in your head and it’s fueling your anger to rise faster into the surface.

“Boys,” you said when you stood in front of their table. You tried your best not to crinkle your nose in disgust as caught a whiff of the smell of leather, sweat, smoke, and hair gel. They only spared you a glance.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear but I have asked everyone to leave.” You’re trying, for your sister's sake, to be diplomatic. The gang looked up at you and laugh. The one on the middle stared at you in contempt.

“We heard, we just didn’t care.”

You smirked at him. “Well then, you leave me no choice but to drag you out of here myself.”

They laughed so hard, they had tears in their eyes. You, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. So many have laughed at your face in the past, thinking you were a dog full of bark but has no bite. You’re used to it by now, people, men specifically, belittling you because you’re a woman.

“Bite me,” the gang leader said. He nodded and two of his boys immediately stood and started attacking you.

You started by dodging them first. Especially since you’re wearing a 5 inches heeled boots. When they started closing in the second time, you didn’t hesitate to neutralize them with a hard punch on their solar plexus. Bringing them to their knees and gasping for air. You twisted their necks, efficiently knocking them dead.

You looked back at the gang leader as he stares open-mouthed at his dead comrades.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

He growled before sending all his men, approximately fifteen of them, to attack you all at once. You can faintly hear the sounds of siren closing in on the club but you didn’t care. It's not like these mortals can catch you anyway.

“Shouldn’t we be helping her?” Megan asked worriedly as she sips her jack coke from her seat on the stage.

Cass just shrugged and sat comfortably beside your throne on the stage.

***

One man put his weapon out and aimed it at you. You smiled insidiously at him. You hate people who bring weapons on a gunfight.

“Make it a kill shot or I will tear you apart using my bare hands.”

“I’m bored of watching you play with your food,” Cass yelled. “Finish it.”

You smiled before they started firing at you but you dodged all of them. You glided along the darkroom, taking down everyone on your path. You can smell their fear mixed with the smell of gun powder and blood. Oh, how you missed it. Truly, you love being free from the burdens of being your father’s prodigy but being Osiris is truly freeing.

***

Nat and Carol were pulled from the relaxing evening when Maria called to say that the Vipers, one of the biggest gang in town, is holding hostages at a local night club called the Underworld. They arrived at the scene just as Bucky and Sam did.

“We told Maria we can handle this,” Sam complained. Nat just rolled her pretty green eyes at him.

“No offence but the last time you handled the Vipers, you two almost got killed and that says something since one of you is immortal and the other wielding Captain America’s shield,” Nat retorted. Bucky just chuckled, while Sam huffed.

Carol was busy getting details from the police commander on-site. Before she can come to her team though, the sound of gunfire sounded from inside the building. It was the only cue the Avengers needed to breach the area.

***

It stopped the moment they barged in through the door. The club was dark, and it reeks of the smell of gun powder and blood. You turned at the sound of footsteps. The Avengers can see a lone figure standing in what seems to a pile of dead bodies but that’s it, they couldn’t see your face.

“Hey, you! Hands in the air.” A man with one silver arm yelled.

“Ah! Avengers welcome to the Underworld,” you said cheerfully. Their weapons aimed at you had you chuckling to yourself.

“He said hands in the air.” Now it’s the blonde who spoke. The world tilted and stopped. She can’t see it because the lights in the club were busted by the bullets the ricocheted around but you were glaring at her. She’s the same blonde woman who has her arms around Natasha Romanoff earlier.

“Why would I do that?” Seeing her there was the last straw before the door to the tomb you buried your alter ego finally opened.

Cass and Megan stood on their chair by the stage as they felt the ground shake, and a green aura simmered out of your skin. “Oh shit.”

“Just put your hands in the air and get on your knees.”

“For the redhead, I will but for you, never.” The sound of teasing and mocking evident in your town. Carol is slowly losing her temper, and you can smell it.

“Don’t make me ask again, lady,” Carol said through gritted teeth.

“Or what? You’ll blast me?” You laughed. “I’d like to see you try, Captain Marvel.”

That was it, Carol’s fist glowed and she tried to shoot at you. It blasted through the wall.

“Tsk, tsk, my sisters will have you pay for that wall.” You whispered right beside her ear. She whipped around confused. Everyone was always confused at first. No one knows how you move around so fast, forgetting that you were born of darkness. So darkness and shadows will always be your friends.

“Show yourself, coward.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Captain?”

Out of spite, you super speed towards Bucky and ripped his metal arm off. He cursed out loud. Carol and Nat towards the sound. While distracted you zoomed at Sam and bashed his head on his hand-me-down shield. He groaned in pain before crumpling down the ground. Nat scrambled to help Sam.

You walked silently towards her, leaving only a foot space between you two. You desperately wished you could touch her but she’s not yours to hold. Then Carol came over to help, and you watch like a stupid martyr as they look at each other lovingly.

Carol Danvers. Strong, brave, and good af.

You shook your head. You were delusional to think you ever had a chance with Natasha Romanoff before. How much more now that you’ve embraced your true nature.

You walked away. Cass and Megan waiting on the fire exit for you.

#drabble #mini series #dc x marvel characters #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanova x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff x carol danvers #carol danvers x natasha romanoff #carolnat #carolnat imagine #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #scarlett johansson imagine #cheating death series #cheating death #raven writes

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tomeandflickcorner · 3 years

Text

Falcon And Winter Soldier Episode 5- My Thoughts

Oh boy, this one might be a bit longer than usual. There’s a lot to go through in this episode. As always, spoilers under the cut.

It immediately picks up after Walker brutally murdered Nico in that crowded square. We see he’s taken off running, and ends up in some deserted warehouse of some kind. For a moment, you almost think he’s starting to grasp the gravity of what he’s done, but he’s then plagued by memories of his time with Hoskins, which only leads to him further slipping into insanity and convincing himself that he did what was necessary. That’s when Bucky and Sam enter the scene. They quickly figure out that Walker’s off his rocker. Particularly when Walker tries to justify his actions by claiming that Nico was the one who killed Hoskins, even though it was clear that Karli was the one who killed him. They do their best to try and help him realize that revenge is not the same as justice, but Walker isn’t willing to listen. Sam, slipping into councilor mode, attempts to calm him down. Unfortunately, if his words were having any affect on Walker, it all went downhill fast when Sam told Walker to hand the Shield over to them. Because Walker firmly believed the Shield was his rightful property, so he was not about to willingly give it up. So Bucky and Sam have no choice but to take the Shield back by force. At one point during this fight, Bucky gets momentarily dazed upon getting thrown into some sort of circuit breaker box, which also seems to briefly cause his vibranium arm to short-circuit. Of course, Sam can’t really hold his own against a crazed Super Soldier one-on-one for long, and Walker eventually has him pinned to the ground. He even destroys Sam’s Falcon wings. But just before Walker could actually kill Sam- yeah, he was actually about to kill Sam there!- Bucky recovers and rejoins the fight. Together, Sam and Bucky manage to pry the Shield away from Walker’s tight grip. Though they have to break his arm in the process. But even then, Walker isn’t backing down. Because he still firmly believes HE is Captain America. It takes a pretty awesome combo move from Bucky and Sam to take Walker down. Because not even a Super Soldier can withstand getting swung into a jet-packed fueled blow from the Shield. With Walker defeated, Bucky pretty much places the Shield at Sam’s feet, effectivly giving it to him once again, before walking off without a word.

So, after that pretty epic battle, the episode allows the characters, and the viewing audience, a chance to catch their breaths. Karli and the Flag Smashers have pretty much gone underground, making it impossible for anyone to locate them. Not that the government doesn’t try, as they conduct raids to all the GRC facilities that housed them, and even arrest the people that offered them shelter. But still, no sign of Karli anywhere. So Bucky and Sam decide there’s not much more they can do, particularly since they’ve been benched by the government officials. Even so, Sam still wants to do what he can in seeing this whole thing to the end. So he asks his friend and associate, Joaquín Torres (who we haven’t seen since Episode 2), to keep him posted. Although, Sam also leaves his broken wingsuit with Joaquín. Which is probably a reference to the fact that Joaquín took up the mantle of Falcon after Sam in the comics.

Of course, there’s still the loose end of Zemo. Bucky manages to track him down in Sokovia, at the memorial that was put up in honor of everyone who died there during the events of Age of Ultron. Which does make sense, since Zemo’s wife and children were among the casualties.

Now, I gotta pause for a moment to talk about something here. During the Previously On segment for this episode, we got reminded of a scene from a previous episode, in which Zemo seemed to be trying to shame Sam and Bucky for not ever visiting the memorial themselves. Maybe it’s me, but that seems kinda unfair. For starters, Bucky and Sam weren’t even involved during the events of Age Of Ultron. With Sam, I don’t think he was officially an Avenger at that point. He was part of the reserve team, if anything. And Bucky was in Romania, trying to reacquaint himself with his true identity while hiding from both the CIA and what was left of Hydra. Even if that wasn’t the case, when exactly were they supposed to visit the memorial? As of the events of Civil War, Sam was on the run as a fugitive alongside Steve and Natasha. And Bucky was in Wakanda, either in cryofreeze or going through mental rehabilitation. And then they both got dusted at the end of Infinity War, meaning they were erased from existence for the next five years. So when exactly could they have visited the Sokovia Memorial to pay their respects? Of course, I do get what the episode was trying to say, since the Avengers didn’t really do much in offering Sokovia any sort of relief efforts. (Though you could also argue that Tony should have been the one to handle that, considering the whole situation with Ultron was his own fault. And goodness knows he had the monetary means to do something, with him being the billionaire and all. But I guess that’s all semantics.)

Anyway, Zemo tells Bucky that the only way they can hope to stop Karli now is by killing her, but Bucky tells him they’re going to try to do things their own way. At this point, Bucky aims a gun at Zemo’s head. But it’s soon revealed that Bucky had previously made sure the gun was already empty when he shows that he’d removed the bullets beforehand. Which I guess was his way of showing Zemo that he was wrong about him. And that Bucky, despite being an enhanced individual (something that Zemo clearly hates), still chose to spare his life. At this point, the Dora Milaje show up, with the intention of bringing Zemo to the Raft, that prison we last saw in Civil War. Before Zemo is escorted off, he tells Bucky he took the liberty of crossing his name out of Bucky’s book, and that he doesn’t blame Bucky for doing what he thought was right. Wow, how magnanimous of him, right? Shame he couldn’t have extended this same level of courtesy towards the rest of the Avengers.

Still, I guess this means we’ve seen the last of Zemo. At least for now. Eh, good riddance, I say. I personally hope we never see him again, While I do sympathize that he lost his family, I still don’t like him in the slightest. On the other hand, I did like that Ayo indicated that Bucky is at least partially forgiven for helping break Zemo out of jail. Sure, she does tell him that he should still stay away from Wakanda for the time being, but she is calling him White Wolf again. Which indicates that their friendship wasn’t broken beyond repair. Before they part ways, however, Bucky tells Ayo that he has one more favor to ask of her.

Here, the episode begins to focus on Sam as he begins to head back home to Louisiana. But first, he makes a detour back to Baltimore, in order to sit down and really talk with Isaiah. Which enables us to really learn exactly what happened with him in the 1950s. Turns out, he didn’t get injected with the Super Serum knowingly He and a few other Black men were essentially used as guinea pigs, in which they were told they were being given tuberculosis shots or something when it was actually an experimental recreation of the Super Serum. But it seems that, for some reason, the other Black test subjects begin displaying some manner of unfortunate side effects to the Serum, which suggested it wasn’t stabilizing with them. Only Isaiah was able to successfully transition into a true Super Soldier like Steve Rogers. So when the other Black test subjects were captured behind enemy lines (because this was the time of the Korean War), the US government were simply planning to drop bombs on the POW camps, in order to prevent word of their little experiment from getting out. When Isaiah found out what they were planning, he took it upon himself to get those men out of there, in a similar manner to what Steve did in the first Captain America movie. Except he was rewarded for his bravery by being locked up like a criminal, with the US government conducting experiments on him to try and figure out why the Super Serum worked with him and not the other test subjects. They even told Isaiah’s wife that he was dead while making sure he never received any of the letters she’s sent him. In the end, Isaiah only escaped because this nameless nurse took pity on him and helped him escape by essentially faking his death. This backstory really is sad and tragic, especially when you realize it’s partially based on an actual historical event. Just try looking up the Tuskegee Experiment sometime. It’s really messed up. Anyway, Isaiah finishes his sad story by telling Sam that, regardless of what he might believe, the world hasn’t changed that much. And that not only will the world never accept a Black man as Captain America, no self-respecting Black man would even attempt to take up the mantle because of how America has always treated men like them.

With that advice still weighing on his mind, Sam returns home to rejoin his sister, Sarah, and his two nephews, AJ and Cass. So now we’re getting back to the subplot from the first episode, involving the failing family-run fishing business. It seems Sarah is still thinking it’s time to throw in the towel and simply sell their family’s fishing boat. The main issue with that is, because it’s all run down and in need of serious repair, nobody would even consider buying it. Fortunately, Sam has an idea. Remembering how their parents, who apparently died some time ago, had been long-standing pillars in the community and had often offered aid to their neighbors, Sam makes a few phone calls and gets the whole community to come pitch in and help repair the old fishing boat, thereby repaying the previous kindness of Sam and Sarah’s late parents. One of the neighbors even comes by with a brand new engine for the fishing boat. But then, just as Sam is wondering how they’re going to manage getting the heavy-looking boat engine off the back of the truck, Bucky appears out of nowhere, using his Super Soldier strength to effortlessly lift the motor up over his shoulders.

Bucky explains his presence away, stating he’s only there to drop off a crate for Sam, which clearly came from the Wakandans. It’s implied the contents of the crate have something to do with the favor he asked of Ayo. But then, Bucky ends up sticking around to help Sam fix up the fishing boat. Cue a boat repairing montage, complete with a song playing over the whole sequence. Bit bizarre we’re getting something like this in the penultimate episode, but it’s still pretty enjoyable. Particularly since we get to see Bucky and Sam actually bonding as themselves. And yes, there does seem to be vague implications that there might eventually be something between Bucky and Sarah. Although, I don’t know if I necessarily ship it. At least not yet. I’d need to see more of them interacting with each other besides just seeing Bucky saying ‘hi’ to her a few times before I make up my mind. Granted it would be an interesting thing to explore of course. Particularly since, to my knowledge, it would be the first biracial couple featured in the MCU. Unless you count Peter Quill and Gamora, of course. (And that brief thing that was going on between Peggy and Jason Wilkes in the woefully short-lived Agent Carter series.) At present, though, I think Bucky’s obvious affection towards Sam’s family seems more tied to his own memories of his life before WW2. When he wakes up the next morning on the couch (because Sam invited him to crash at the house instead of finding a hotel room somewhere), a genuine smile appears on his face when he catches AJ and Cass playing around with the Shield in the living room. Those of you who have read Bucky’s bio in the MCU wiki might remember that Bucky was the oldest child of four, so seeing AJ and Cass might be reminding him of how he used to play with his younger sisters. And interestingly enough, Sam’s sister’s name is Sarah. Which was also the name of Steve Roger’s mother, which is probably making Bucky feel even more nostalgia. (Side note- Bucky was actually sleeping on the couch. Which is a step up from where we first saw him in the first episode, where he was sleeping on the cold, hard floor. This is probably an indication that Bucky is starting to heal.)

Anyway, we then see Bucky helping train Sam in throwing the Shield around. They even set up an obstacle course of sorts, with mats being tied to a few of the surrounding trees. They briefly discuss the lingering issue of the Flag Smashers. There’s still no sign of Karli, but Sam promises to give Bucky a call when he gets a new lead, and Bucky promises that he’ll come back to assist Sam at that time. However, the main focus of the scene involves Bucky finally apologizing to Sam for giving him a hard time over the Shield in the first place, with him acknowledging how he and Steve didn’t really grasp what it might feel like to a Black man to be given the Shield. We also get an indication that Steve and Bucky did discuss Steve’s plans of retiring by staying in the past to live a life with Peggy after returning the Infinity Stones ahead of time. It was vaguely suggested in a read-between-the-lines sort of way at the end of Endgame, but it’s nice they confirmed that Steve didn’t just up and decide to do that on the fly. Bucky then starts opening up to Sam, admitting to him that the reason why he was so angry about the Shield in the first place was that, to him, the Shield felt like his last connection he had to Steve, who was the closest thing he had to a family. And that feeling has intensified now that Steve is gone. (Can we please get some clarification on what they mean by ‘gone,’ by the way? Did Steve actually pass away from old age offscreen? Up until now, it’s something they’ve only vaguely inferred to. Like maybe, maybe, maybe. But if that’s what happened, I wish they’d quit tiptoeing around the issue and just tell us straight out.) Anyway, it’s really cool that Bucky is talking to Sam about all of this. It does show that he truly does trust Sam. Especially more than he does that crappy therapist they forced on him. Just saying, Bucky was still denying to her that he was having nightmares, despite apparently having sessions with her for six months. But he freely admits to Sam that he is still having nightmares after only a week or so of them working together. If that doesn’t illustrate how poorly Bucky’s relationship with his government issued therapist was going, I don’t know what does.

As if getting how big a deal this is, for Bucky to open up to him like this, Sam once again slips into counselor mode. He tells Bucky that he shouldn’t put so much concern onto what Steve thought of him, because Bucky can’t let what others think of him determine his own self-value. Or something to that effect. He also advises Bucky to stop taking the easy way out in regards of alleviating his guilt over what he did as the Winter Soldier. Up until now, Bucky was only going after past Hydra agents to bring them to justice in an effort to make himself feel better. But if Bucky really wants to gain peace of mind, he should instead focus on helping the victims feel better. Which probably means that Bucky is going to go back and see that old man, Yori, from Episode 1 again and help him find closure by telling him the truth about what happened to his dead son. I admit, I’m really nervous about watching that scene unfold. Yeah, Yori does deserve the truth, but I’m scared about how he might take it. It would be understandable if he ends up blaming Bucky, sure. But at the same time, it’s kinda been rubbing me the wrong way how this show seems to be acting like Bucky is a reformed assassin who has to atone for what he’s done. No, that was what Natasha was. Bucky, on the other hand, was the world’s longest serving POW. Someone who was tortured and brainwashed by evil Nazi scientists who stripped him of his free will and autonomy. (And, if we consider the implications that Episode 3 gave us, we can also add sexual abuse to the list of things Hydra did to him.) Yeah, it’s only natural Bucky feels bad for what Hydra made him do. But that just indicates he’s naturally a good man with a good heart. I’m not exactly a fan of the idea that he should be made to feel like he should atone for anything he did. Because he was as much of a victim in all of that as the people Hydra sent him after. Still, if trying to make up for what Hydra forced him to do is what Bucky needs to do in order to forgive himself, then I guess I can support that. Do what you have to do to find closure for yourself, buddy.

Anyway, after Bucky leaves, Sam and Sarah continue to finish repairs on the fishing boat in preparation for selling it. But just before Sam is going to paint over the names of their parents, which is printed on the side of the boat, Sarah stops him. It seems she’s changed her mind about selling the boat, considering the boat is part of their family legacy. Which is something that Sam is relieved to hear, as he didn’t want to see the boat getting sold off, either. The siblings begin having a heart-to-heart, with Sarah telling Sam that, even though she’s always given him a hard time about the matter, she’d never thought he was running away from things whenever he went off to save the world and whatnot. She also tells him that she knows he’s been dwelling on what Isaiah said to him, but helps Sam make a decision involving the Shield. While Isaiah had good reasons for believing the way he did, Sam ultimately decides that the pain Isaiah went through would be in vain if nobody continued to fight for the future. And so, Sam decides that he’s now willing to accept the mantle of Captain America. Which leads to another montage. This time of Sam going through a self-training session with the Shied, with his nephews, AJ and Cass, helping out. The training montage ends with us seeing that Sam has become a pro at throwing and catching the Shield.

Of course, just when you start to think this episode is feeling like the series finale, with everything wrapping up and setting the stage for a future adventure, we get the reminder that there is still one more episode to go. It seems that Karli has been pushed over the edge after the death of Nico, as well as seeing all the GRC facilities raided and cleared out of refugees. And she is now out for revenge. Specifically, she plans to rally up what remains of her followers and attack the GRC headquarters, as they plan to vote on the Patch Act, which would force millions of people to relocate to their home states. To achieve this goal, Karli manage to join forces with Batroc, who had previously appeared at the beginning of Episode 1. Strangely enough, an earlier scene does suggest Batroc was actually hired to team up with Karli and the Flag Smashers by Sharon Carter, which only further indicates that Sharon is a bit shady. What exactly is Sharon up to? Is she a bad guy now? That would kinda stink, since she is Peggy Carter’s great niece or something. Talk about besmirching your family name.

Anyway, right when the Flag Smasher’s attack on GRC headquarters is about to begin, Sam gets a tip off from Joaquín, who had been keeping his ear to the grapevine in terms of the Flag Smasher’s movements. Apparently, the Flag Smashers coordinate their attacks via this coded cellphone signal, which Joaquín had figured out how to hack into. And he notifies Sam that the coded cellphone signal is now showing up in New York City. Sam seems to figure out what the Flag Smashers are about to do when he sees a news report on the TV about the GRC voting on the Patch Act that evening. Deciding to go and do something about it, he opens up that Wakandan crate Bucky had dropped off. The episode ends before we can see what exactly was inside the crate, though. They’re clearly saving that reveal for the final episode. Although, my boyfriend, who is also my viewing partner for this show, is a bit of an expert on what went on in the Marvel comics. (He even worked in a comic book/gaming store before we met.) It seems that, in the comics, Sam Wilson did end up getting a pair of Falcon wings that utilized hologram technology of some kind. So he’s theorizing that’s what it is. Still, we have to wait until next Friday to know for sure. Either way, it looks like this next episode will decide what happens with Karli and the Flag Smashers. I honestly don’t see how it’s possible to resolve things with Karli peacefully, though. She seems too far gone at this point. But I’m sure Sam will still try to talk her down, which only deepens my respect for him. And who knows? Maybe Sam will succeed, with Karli going the Coalhouse Walker route- agreeing to stand down in exchange for the promise of a fair trial, which would allow her to state her case. (Of course, I hope they don’t do things exactly how it went down in Ragtime. Because in that story, they pretty much promise Coalhouse that he’ll receive a fair trial, but the moment he surrenders himself, the police immediately open fire and shoot him dead. Which is not even remotely cool.)

Oh, and then there’s still the matter of Walker. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him. Because even though Sam and Bucky effectivly took him down AND he received a dishonorable discharge by the US government, he still refuses to believe he did anything wrong. He’s convinced that he still deserves to be Captain America. While a small part of me does pity him, he really is displaying what appears to be a fragile White male ego. He even goes up to Hoskin’s grieving parents and sister and lies to them about how Nico was the one who killed their son, and that they should take comfort in the fact that justice was served. There’s also a mid-credits scene where we see he’s trying to make his own version of the Shield. Doubt its made of vibranium, of course. I Gotta say, I’m seeing a lot of parallels between Walker and Karli right now. Both of them have convinced themselves that they are 100% in the right, and everything they do is completely justified. Which naturally makes them both very dangerous. However, I’m mostly concerned by this mysterious woman. Contessa, or whatever it was she called herself. She approached Walker after his trial to tell him that he didn’t do anything wrong before giving him what appears to be a blank business card. (I’m guessing there’s some sort of secret decoded message on this business card that Walker will decipher later on.) I have no idea who this woman is supposed to be or what her goal is. I’m guessing she’s someone comic book experts would recognize, but my boyfriend/viewing partner, who is familiar with the comics, didn’t seem to recognize her name, either. So it’s a big mystery at this point.

Before I wrap up my thoughts for this week’s episode, there is something partially unrelated I should mention. For those of you who haven’t heard, Sebastian Stan’s latest movie, Monday, recently came out. And it seems that this movie includes Sebastian and his female co-star in a full-frontal nudity scene. From what I’ve heard, there have been some select individuals who have seen fit to criticize Sebastian’s appearance in this scene, because he wasn’t in perfect shape or something like that. If you were one of those select individuals who decided to body shame Sebastian after watching this movie? Grow up! Bodies come in all shapes and sizes. And to expect a male actor to have a completely chiseled physique at all times is extremely unrealistic, particularly when they’re portraying an ordinary person. The fact that people were acting like this is even more disgusting when you consider the fact that Sebastian Stan apparently already has some body issues. The fact that he was still willing to film this full-frontal scene despite those issues just illustrates his passion and dedication to his skill as an actor and the message this movie was meant to convey. He did not deserve to have his body objectified the way it was. Nobody does. So once again, this is me condemning the behavior of those select ‘fans.’

#falcon and winter soldier #falcon and winter solider series

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