#Gladly he gave sam some kind of childhood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years

Text

Kiss Goodbye

Summary: Bucky is a detective with the 99th Precinct. A single moment changes your life forever, and you’re faced with saying goodbye

Features/Warnings: Angst; mentions of pregnancy, Major Character Death

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: I cried writing this. That should be it’s own warning.

Detective!Bucky AU; Brooklyn 99 Crossover

Word Count: 4657

You were napping, completely unaware of the news that was coming. An argument had broken out at the 99th Precinct over what to do, the squad torn over calling you or going to tell you in person. They were all emotional, all dealing with what had happened that afternoon in their own ways. In the end, Captain Holt headed to your home, the one that you had shared with Bucky since you’d gotten married four years prior. Holt had called in a favor from a neighboring precinct. Captain Steve Rogers was joining him on the solemn journey to the Barnes home.

Steve and Bucky had been best friends since childhood. They went through the police academy together. Bucky had no interest in being a superior officer. He was content with his job as a detective in the 99th precinct. He had worked in Steve’s precinct until two years prior, being transferred to the 99 once Amy Santiago had become a sergeant.

You worked as an EMT, enjoying a day off with your daughter. You woke up when your phone went off. You felt a pang of anxiety when you saw Steve’s name. He was working. He and Bucky both worked the day shift. You had been taking a nap while your daughter took hers. Your last shift had been exhausting and the three year old had gotten sick the previous evening with a stomach bug.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey...I’m here, could you come let me in?” he asked.

“Uh...sure?” you said, confused. Steve had a key. He’d always had a key. Something wasn’t right and you knew it. You checked on your daughter before heading down the stairs to the front door. When you opened it to see Captain Holt standing with Steve, you knew.

“Won’t you come in?” you asked, allowing both men entry. You weren’t surprised Holt had called in Steve. Not when it came to Bucky, when it came to you.

“Steve?” you asked when they sat down.

“Bucky was shot. We came to get you, bring you to the hospital. They were rushing him to surgery as soon as he was brought in. Peralta told the ER doctors they had telling you covered. Peggy’s on her way to babysit and I’m driving you to the hospital. Captain Holt will stay and wait for Peggy to get here,” Steve explained. Your mind was racing. This couldn’t be real. Not Bucky. Not your Bucky.

You felt numb as Steve rushed you to the hospital. It wasn’t long before Amy showed up with Rosa and Gina. You had never seen Rosa Diaz shaken. Steve hadn’t told you much, only that Rosa and Bucky had gone to ask a witness some questions and that Bucky had been shot. None of you spoke as you sat waiting. Steve had called Sam. You knew Sam would start passing the news along if Peggy hadn’t already. It was a system you had hoped would never need to be used.

Four hours had passed before you were allowed to see him. Four painful hours filled with anxiety. He was in the ICU in critical condition. You sat by his bedside, holding his hand, waiting for the doctor to come in. Bucky’s father had passed the previous year, leaving his mother, his sister, and his grandparents who lived in Jersey. His mother had been on a trip to Florida with friends and was rushing to get back home. Sam had gone to get Bucky’s grandparents to bring them up to the city. Rebecca had arrived at the hospital shortly after you had, and the two of you sat by his bedside, clinging to the hope that he would be okay. Rebecca had married Sam the previous year. You remembered a time when Sam and Bucky could barely be in the same room without arguing. Years had passed since then, and Bucky had gladly stood up at their wedding as one of Sam’s groomsmen.

You weren’t surprised when it was Bruce who walked in. Dr. Bruce Banner was someone you’d known a long time. It came with the territory of your jobs. He was also the husband of Sharon Carter, who had become a dear friend and who was a cousin of Steve’s wife, Peggy.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said.

“You’re sorry?” you asked, confused by what he was apologizing for. As he explained, you and Rebecca clung to each other tightly. You were going to have to make some difficult decisions, decisions you didn’t want to make.

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

Saying goodbye was never easy. You laughed to yourself that maybe good was only in there to soften the blow. Goodbye held permanence to you. You never cared for the word. Goodbye was an ending. Goodbye was finality. Goodbye meant it was over, really over. There was no coming back from this goodbye. There was no happy ending, no moment where Bucky would walk through the door again yelling “I’m home”. No more sounds of little feet charging down the hallway to greet him, with you close behind.

“I don’t know if I can do this without you, Buck. I don’t want to,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. You had made the most difficult decision of your life. You knew well enough to know holding on was only putting off the inevitable, prolonging the pain you knew would linger. It didn’t make it easier. You blinked as tears fell. You had been torn on bringing your daughter. You and Bucky had had that discussion one night, when you had been pregnant with her.

You and Bucky laid in bed, his hand laying on your bump as the baby kicked, a soft smile on his face. The eleven o’clock news was on the television. Another officer had been killed in the line of duty. Bucky’s smile dropped. He hadn’t known her, not really. But he knew of her. Sergeant Hope Van Dyne had a husband, a step-daughter, and a two year old daughter. They had met in passing before, Scott Lang was a childhood friend of Steve and Bucky’s. Keeping in touch had been made difficult when Scott had moved out west, returning to the city when his wife landed a job with the NYPD.

“Babe?” you asked when you noticed the sudden change in Bucky’s demeanor.

“Scotty called me yesterday. Asked what he should do. Cassie wanted to see Hope. She’s old enough that he brought her down to the hospital, but their little one. He refused to bring her, didn’t want to traumatize the kid, seeing her mom like that at such a young age. At least Cassie’s at an age where she can communicate, you know? Addie’s not,” Bucky said. He was starting to ramble. You took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb in a circle, a soothing gesture.

“I’m making lasagna to bring over. Though, it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve got more than enough food,” you said. He sighed, running his free hand through his hair.

“If I’m ever in that position, promise me you won’t bring her. Not unless she’s old enough to ask. Not unless she’s old enough to understand,” he said.

“James,” you said, a frown appearing on your face. You rarely called him by his first name. It was reserved for the bedroom, for intimate moments between the two of you, moments of exasperation, and serious conversations.

“Please. Promise me. I don’t want our daughter’s last memory of me to be like that. It’s bad enough that yours would be. I don’t plan on getting hurt like that, but...damn it I’m scared. It was a routine stop. And now she’s dead and her...just promise me,” he said cutting himself off. You turned toward him, moving your hand to cup his cheek.

“I promise you, James Buchanan Barnes. I will always protect our daughter and any other children we have,” you said. He pulled you into a kiss, and the conversation drifted into a forgotten memory.

“Mrs. Barnes?” a nurse asked. You looked up. It was Sharon.

“Sharon, please,” you said, your voice flat. She gave you a sad smile, her own eyes watering.

“Sorry. I...I’m sorry. This is never easy,” she told you. You nodded. You understood. Calling you Mrs. Barnes helped her remove herself from the situation, away from the reality.

“I came to check on you. Whenever you're ready,” she said, taking your hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“What if I’m never ready? How can you ever be ready for something like this?” you asked her.

“You can’t be. But you have to be. Is she coming?” Sharon asked. You shook your head.

“Bucky and I agreed if this kind of thing ever happened, the only way she’d be here is if she was old enough to understand. Maybe she’ll resent me for it one day, but...I can’t bring myself to bring her here. She’s been asking about him. Shar, how do I tell my three year old daughter that her daddy isn’t coming home?” you asked, breaking down. She pulled you into a hug, letting you cry into her shoulder as she rubbed circles on your back.

“How do I tell her?” you asked again, your voice barely more than a whisper as you sobbed.

“You’ll find a way. You don’t have to do this alone,” she said, her own voice cracking. You were waiting on the others. Bucky’s mother, grandparents, and sister soon arrived with Sam, Steve, and Peggy. Natasha and Clint were the last ones to arrive. You weren’t sure if Jake or Rosa were going to show up. You had asked them to come. You knew they were both close to him. Hell, you were close with them and Rosa Diaz was a difficult person to get close to.

Peter Parker had volunteered to watch your daughter that day. He was often around the station getting volunteer hours. It had turned into the kid from Queens babysitting your daughter when you needed someone to watch her. You sent him a quick text to check in on how things were, and you weren’t surprised when you got a near immediate response.

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve said as he pulled you into a hug. You knew it wasn’t an instant thing as they started taking him off life support. You had all been sent out of the room when they started switching off machines and removing him from the very things keeping him alive. When you were brought back in, you sat by his side, his hand in yours. You excused yourself for a moment, needing a second to breathe.

It wasn’t much later that they called his time of death. If you had been sobbing before, it couldn’t compare to the sound of your heartbreaking as his mother held you tight.

It was late when you got home. Peter was asleep on the couch. You sent his aunt a text, saying he could stay the night since you didn’t want to wake him. It was a Friday and you knew the kid had been overworking himself lately with his school work.

You checked on your daughter, tip-toeing into her room and kneeling beside her bed, leaning to give her a kiss on her forehead. You wanted to cry, but found you had no tears left. The morning would bring a new difficulty. Explaining to your daughter that her father wasn’t coming home.

You stepped into your bedroom, the first time since you’d gotten the news. You had been staying with Steve and Peggy, your daughter excited to have been spending time with her aunt and uncle. Bucky’s favorite t-shirt still lay flung on the bed. It was an old Vans Warped Tour shirt from 2009. One of your long standing traditions. You both loved and hated that shirt. It was worn at this point, from over a decade of wear and tear. But you loved the memories. You pulled it over your head, taking in the scent that was distinctly Bucky, before pulling on pajama bottoms and crawling into bed, holding his pillow close.

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

You were restless through the night. You were up by seven and found yourself making pancakes. Peter was still asleep on the couch. You checked on him while the first pancakes started to cook. You were never as good as Bucky when it came to pancakes. You always insisted he was a magician.

When the pancakes were done, along with some bacon and sausage, you went to wake your daughter. The smell of pancakes excited her. It broke your heart and you kicked yourself for choosing the food.

“Where is daddy?” she asked, confusion laced in her voice. Your lower lip wobbled a bit as you did your best to contain your emotions.

“We’ll talk about that after breakfast. Now, mama made some pancakes. I know I’m not as good as the Pancake Wizard, but I’m sure you’ll like them,” you said as you picked her up. She giggled as you lifted her high in the air. You knew Winnie and Rebecca would be coming over after breakfast.

Peter offered to do the dishes before he headed home, something you weren’t about to argue with him about. You sat your daughter down in the living room. You still weren’t sure how you were going to tell her. She understood her father had been hurt, that he had been in the hospital. But this was uncharted territory. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at you.

“Why are you sad mama?” she asked.

“Because...because daddy isn’t coming home,” you said, choosing your words carefully.

“Where he go?” she asked you. You swallowed, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“He died, sweetheart,” you said, ripping the bandaid off. Her brows furrowed as she tried to think about what that meant.

“What’s that?” she asked. It was difficult finding the words, but eventually you did. By then, Bucky’s family had arrived, and so had your parents. Winnifred Barnes took charge of helping you explain it to your daughter. You had expected the tears and you held your daughter close as she cried. You thought your heart couldn’t break anymore than it already had until you heard that sound.

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

It was sunny the day of the funeral. It hurt a little more. Wasn’t it supposed to be raining? Wasn’t the weather supposed to reflect your heartbreak, the fact that he wasn’t going to walk back through the door?

You had met Bucky in high school when you’d gone to Brooklyn to hang out with Natasha after her family had moved up to the city to be closer to her grandmother, who refused to leave the city. Services were set to be in the city, but he was being buried in Jersey, the same place his father was buried. His grandparents had lived not far from your small hometown. His parents had moved to the city before he was born. You remembered that day so vividly.

You and Natasha were walking down the street when someone knocked into you and you fell. Natasha had whipped around.

“Watch it Rogers,” she snapped.

“Sorry! I’m running late! If I’m late again Mr. Weston is gonna fire me,” he said before running off. A boy with dark brown hair helped you to your feel.

“Sorry about him. He really needs the job. I’ve never seen you around before,” the boy said.

“I’m friends with Nat,” you said.

“Well, friend of Nat, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you beautiful girl?” he asked. You felt your face heat up at the comment. You saw Natasha roll her eyes before you gave the boy your name. He introduced himself. James ‘Please call me Bucky’ Barnes. You swore you fell for him in that moment.

“I’d ask if you were ready, but I don’t think you ever will be,” Natasha said from the doorway. You looked at her with watery eyes.

“I don’t want to go,” you told her, your voice soft. She entered the room, placing a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you from the window.

“But you have to. I’ll be there. Steve will be there. You’re not alone. You are never alone,” she said, pulling you into a hug. You broke in that moment. You let out a sob that bordered on a scream as she held you tight.

You saw the line of news reporters outside. You hated it. Vultures capitalizing on your grief. You had put your foot down and told Holt you wanted no news media at the funeral. They had no right. You always hated when they would show funerals of fallen police and firefighters on the television, as if their families lost the right to grieve privately because of their loved one’s occupation.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through this,” you admitted when your sobbing calmed.

“You’re not alone. We’re here every step,” she said. You nodded. Heading to where the services were being held, officers from all over lined the streets, along with other first responders. You felt numb. You were half focused until Steve stood to speak.

“Detective James Barnes was more than an officer. He was a loving son, grandson, brother, husband, and father. Bucky is...was my best friend. I don’t know life without him. Many of us here don’t know or remember life without him. Some people would describe him as quiet, moody, and hard to talk to. But once you got to know him? You would learn that he was a quiet comedian. He loved to go fishing and had a sweet tooth that drove his wife mad because there was never anything too sweet for him. When we were in high school, she made him a cake that had more sugar in a single bite than could have been considered healthy to prove a point. Bucky ate the whole thing,” Steve said. You laughed a little at the memory.

He told a couple of other stories, like how worried Bucky was when your daughter was born and how he once rescued your parents’ cat from a neighbor’s tree using nothing but some rope and a laundry basket. He talked about the days where Bucky would get him out of trouble when he’d get into fights. It was the first time you had smiled in days.

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as silence fell over those gathered once more. You knew what was coming. You’d heard it before. End of watch, last call, the final farewell to the fallen. A call that would never be answered. No one ever thought it would be them sitting on the hard chair, listening as their loved one’s badge number was read out with the words “end of watch”.

You weren’t surprised Jake was speaking in place of Captain Holt. It made sense. Jake was one of Bucky’s closest friends at the 99, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye.

“Barnes was...when he first started at the 99, we hated each other. This stupid, sexy, blue eyed and broody man comes into the precinct and sits down at Amy’s old desk. Like, who did this jerk think he was? But he soon became one of my closest friends. I’ve been struggling to find the words to say what I need to say. The precinct won’t be the same without him. He was the reigning Halloween Heist champion. I still don’t know how he pulled it off with just a shoelace and some glitter,” Jake said. You chuckled at that. Your heart ached as you listened to him speak. You hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him or Rosa. They both seemed to be avoiding you. Sam told you to give it some time. You knew he was right, but you were still worried about them both, even in your own grief. Rosa had been there and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she felt guilty.

The drive from the city to Jersey saw streets lined with more people, a solemn procession down the Jersey Turnpike to the shore. As you went through your hometown, two ladder trucks sat with their ladders raised facing each other. You had roots in a close knit community. You and Bucky may have lived in Brooklyn, but everyone knew the two of you. Everyone knew his grandparents, knew his parents, knew his sister.

The graveside service was a blur, all the while lost in your thoughts and your tears, the tears you feared would never stop falling. Your daughter climbed in your lap.

“Ok mama, no cry,” the toddler babbled, placing her hand on your cheek. She was still so young, at an age where she wouldn’t remember him, wouldn’t remember Saturday morning pancakes, the daddy-daughter days where Bucky would take her to the park, to Build-a-Bear, even though you insisted she was still too young to fully appreciate it, the days he’d do her hair for her because no one could say no to those eyes and the look she’d give you. Bucky wasn’t the greatest at styling hair, but your daughter never cared much about that. She loved it because her daddy did it.

The cemetery started clearing out, leaving you with your friends, your family. You stood to place your flower on the casket, your daughter following suit. Slowly, the others started leaving, until it was you and Rosa. Rebecca and Sam had taken your daughter with them.

“It should have been me,” Rosa said, her voice cracking. You shook your head.

“Don’t think like that Diaz. You start thinking like that and you’ll never forgive yourself,” you said.

“The perp was aiming for me and he jumped in front of me. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead,” she said. You pulled her into a hug. She was stiff for a moment before she wrapped her arms around you and let herself sob.

“You know that’s who he was, Rosa. He’d have done that for any of you. Don’t let this guilt eat at you. He wouldn’t want that. I don’t want that,” you told her.

“He should still be here,” she said. You held her tighter.

“But he’s not. And that hurts. But it’s life,” you said.

“You should hate me, scream at me. Something. How are you so calm?” she asked. You sighed.

“Because you’re my friend. And I know my husband. Even if he knew the outcome, he would have taken that bullet every time. You hear me? Every time. You’re riding with me,” you said, nodding toward the waiting car.

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

Routines were hard to break. You found yourself reaching for him in the mornings, the remnants of a dream at the forefront of your mind. The cold side of the bed was a reminder that it was a dream, that he was gone. Some days you were on autopilot, pouring two cups of coffee, making his just how he liked it, before remembering you only needed coffee for one. His laundry sat untouched. You couldn’t bring yourself to wash it.

Rosa had become a fixture around the house. If Jake and Amy weren’t over for dinner, she was. A quiet understanding existed between you and the 99. They would always be welcome. They would always be family. It was why two months after his death, Rosa, Gina, and Amy were sat in your bedroom with Natasha while you paced, three pregnancy tests sitting face down on the dresser. Jake was in the other room with Charles. You questioned your decision to leave your daughter in their care.

“Well?” Gina asked, giving you an expectant look.

“I can’t look. I can’t,” you said.

“Then I will,” Amy said, picking up the tests.

“You do realize she peed on those, right?” Rosa asked, an amused smirk on her face. Amy dropped them before apologizing.

“Might as well read them out, Ames,” Gina said. A smile emerged on Amy’s face.

“You’re pregnant,” Amy said. For the first time in two months, you smiled. You had chalked your last missed period up to the stress of everything. Sure, you and Bucky had been trying for another child, but you didn’t think you were pregnant, you didn’t dare to hope that you were.

Your first appointment, you couldn’t bring yourself to go alone. You asked Rosa to join you.

“No,” she said.

“Rosa, please? I can’t do this alone,” you said. The other woman glared at you.

“Fine. But only because I can’t stand the sound of crying,” she said, crossing her arms.

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

Seven more months passed by, and Bucky’s birthday arrived. You were officially on maternity leave. You brought your daughter to the cemetery, flowers in hand. She was another year older, having turned four in February.

“Any day now, Buck. Our son will be here,” you said as you sat on the cold ground, thankful for the lack of snow. You placed the picture your daughter had drawn under a rock in a protective sleeve, before securing it with a metal stake through the holes meant for a binder. A small collection had amassed there over the previous months. You would swap them out every so often, placing them in a box you kept at home.

You had barely gotten in the door when you felt a strong contraction. You looked toward the photo on the mantel. It was a photo of you and Bucky from the day your daughter was born.

“You...you know what Barnes, fair play, fair play,” you said to the empty room. You waited a bit before you called someone. Steve and Peggy were on their way to watch your daughter. Natasha and Rosa on the other hand were set to be your support in the room.

Just shy of midnight, your son was born. You had told Bucky once upon a time, that you wanted your son to share his name. He had laughed and agreed, but only if his middle name was Steven. You had smiled at that. James Steven Barnes. You looked at Rosa.

“Would you like to hold your godson?” you asked her. Her eyes widened.

“My godson?” she asked. You nodded.

“Yeah, Diaz. Bucky and I talked about it a long time ago,” you told her. It was true, you had. For the two of you, it hadn’t been a religion thing. You wanted to know that your kids would be in good hands if something happened. Steve and Nat were your daughter’s godparents. Jake and Rosa would be your son’s. Between the four of them, you were confident that should something happen, your kids would be well cared for and loved.

You were still healing. The hurt would never go away. You hated the word goodbye. But you knew. This goodbye wasn’t forever. Bucky wasn’t gone, not truly. You looked at your daughter and saw his smile. You looked at your newborn son and saw his eyes. Your weekly conversations with his mother revealed more stories you hadn’t heard before. Bucky may have been gone, but he was woven into the very core of your life. You could see him in the jokes that flowed between the 99 when you’d hang out with them, in the way Steve was teaching Peter how to defend himself, even though he swore up and down he was doing nothing of the sort. You saw him in the way you’d catch Natasha jamming out to music you knew she used to hate when you’d walk in on days she was watching your daughter. He lived on in all of you.

You closed your eyes to rest as the last of your visitors left your hospital room. You swore you could hear his voice as you drifted off, a smile on your face.

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #winter soldier fanfic #winter soldier #angst #brooklyn 99 crossover

58 notes · View notes

deansmyapplepie · 4 years

Text

Only You - Chapter 15

Title: Eye of the Hurricane

Summary: When a man who left the reader six years ago suddenly reappears on her doorstep, she does everything she can to stop herself from falling in love with him all over again. Little does she know that his seemingly brief return will open an entirely new chapter for both of them.

Only You Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Tags: smut, wounded!reader, worried!Dean, worried!Sam, angst

Word Count: 6,124

(Gif not mine)

Staring anxiously at your phone screen, you tapped through new links, looking for any occurrence that could be considered "paranormal." The one thing that caught your attention was the report on your childhood home burning down in local news, and you really weren't in the mood to read it. A few days had passed since the fire, and even though you knew that laying low was the smart thing to do, you were going crazy. Dean especially needed some time to heal if the three of you were going to take care of this witch problem, but doing nothing was starting to get to you. You had never been one for sitting still for long periods of time, and you were really starting to feel it. The only time any of you left the house was to get food or sit in a diner to charge your phones, and even those excursions had to be as discreet as possible. There was no telling where the witch had eyes. For all you knew, she already had your location pinpointed and was just waiting for the right moment. But you were trying not to think about that.

With a loud groan, you pressed your palms up into your eyes, which felt raw from staring at a screen for so long.

"This is pointless," you grumbled to yourself. Dean, who had been scrolling lazily through his phone, gave an amused snort. He sat up, suddenly excited.

"We could watch a movie," he recommended hopefully. "I don't have Netflix on my phone, but I could download it, and-"

"That's probably not the best idea," the younger Winchester piped up from across the room. He had been so quiet reading his book, you had almost forgotten he was there. "You don't want to waste your battery life." Dean scowled at his brother.

"Well, then what am I supposed to do?" he grumbled. Sam shrugged.

"Read a book." Dean's scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.

"Yeah, right." Quite frankly, you felt a little bit bad for him. Out of the three of you, Dean was the only one who was struggling to entertain himself. In any other situation, you knew he would've spent his free time working on his beloved car. When things weren't so bad, he always told you things he wanted to improve, so she could stay running in her prime condition for longer, but he had strict doctor's orders from you to take it easy. He glanced over your shoulder to peer at your screen.

"What're you up to, babe?"

"Looking for leads," you replied, not looking up from your phone. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam and Dean exchange a wary look. You already knew what that look meant. They thought you were obsessing over this, and maybe you were, but that wasn't the point. You had to keep trying for your mom if nothing else. Besides, at least you were entertained this way, which was more than you could say for Dean.

"Maybe you should give it a rest," Dean suggested.

"I will," you lied, nodding to appease them. "Just one second." As you opened a new tab, you began to type frantically into the search bar. "I think I might find something if I just use a few different keywords." Sam snapped his book shut and stood, causing you to look up in surprise.

"All right," he said firmly.

"What're you-" Before you could object, he strode over to you, took your phone out of your grasp, and handed it off to Dean. "Hey!" you exclaimed. "I was-"

"Exhausting yourself," Sam finished as he pointed a slightly reprimanding finger at you. You opened your mouth to protest, but you couldn't find the words. Even though you didn't want to admit it, he wasn't wrong. You had been searching the internet tirelessly since midmorning when the three of you had gotten back from breakfast. The only time you had taken a break was when you left with the boys to get lunch. "Come on." Sam held out a hand, which you reluctantly took, and he hoisted you to your feet. "We're going outside."

"But-" you began to argue again.

"Nope," he cut you off. He didn't wait for you to follow him as he headed for the door, stopping to point at his brother first. "No Netflix." Dean let out another huff, and you shot him a sympathetic look.

"Any idea what he's got planned?" Your question fell on deaf ears as he squinted at his phone screen thoughtfully.

"Hey, are you gonna rat me out if I download Netflix anyway?" Despite yourself, you chuckled. At this point, you were pretty sure he wanted to watch movies just because Sam said he couldn't. You shook your head.

"No, but if your phone dies, you're not using mine," you warned. Dean paused for a moment, squinting his eyes even more.

"Deal," he finally said. With one last roll of your eyes, you went after Sam, pushing open the dilapidated screen door. You were older than Sam, and even though you didn't feel like you were, you were still a bit bewildered by the way he bossed you around inside. He treated you like a little sister, and it wasn't that you minded, but you really did want to keep searching for new leads. Even though you had exhausted every search topic you could think of, you couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was still something out there to be found.

"Hey, you want to tell me what we're doing?" you called after the younger Winchester. He walked through the overgrown grass almost effortlessly, but you practically had to go high-knees to get through it. Damn him and his height. Finally, he came to a halt, turning around to face you.

"Training," Sam answered. You made a face, taken aback. For some reason, that was the last thing you had been expecting to come out of his mouth. "You need something to do, and Dean can't do this with you because of his stitches, so I'm the next best thing. But don't tell him I said that. Sound good?" What with your quick retreat, it had been a while since you trained, and honestly, you had kind of forgotten about it. Still, this wasn't what you had been expecting to do this afternoon, and you were already feeling anxious to get back to your phone. The light breeze blew a strand of hair into your face, and you tucked it behind your ear.

"I'm not saying I'm perfect, but do we still need to call it training? I feel like it's more just practicing at this point," you pointed out. Maybe if you argued with him enough, you could get out of this. "And do I still even need to?"

"Yes," Sam answered with a serious nod. "Even after as long as Dean and I have been doing this, we still train to make sure we stay in shape." You gnawed on your lower lip uneasily as he rolled up his sleeves.

"But I don't want you exerting yourself," you tried again. "What about your lungs?"

"Y/N, my lungs are fine," Sam insisted. "So don't hold back, okay?" You looked away with a frown, grumbling.

"It's not holding back that I'm worried about." Sam gave an exasperated shake of his head as he looked at you, bewilderment written all over his face.

"Jesus," he said. "You're more stubborn than Dean." You felt your lip involuntarily curl back a bit as you tucked your chin. The two of you knew better than anyone how stubborn Dean could be, and Sam knew damn well that you hated when he got like that. Those were fighting words.

"Sam Winchester, you take that back right now!"

"Oh, I know what it is," Sam continued. "You're chicken shit." Okay, now he was just pissing you off. You were a lot of things, but chicken shit wasn't one of them. And you were most definitely not as stubborn as Dean.

"All right, listen-"

"You're afraid you've gotten too rusty to even try to take me on." Face flushing bright red, you let out a spluttering noise. Sam stuffed his hands into his jean's pockets, and he gave a nonchalant shrug. "I get it." With a final defiant huff, you pushed your sleeves up past your elbows. If he wanted to see what Dean had taught you, then that's what he was gonna get.

"Are you gonna heckle me all day, or are we gonna do this?" His face melted into a triumphant, if not slightly smug grin, and he held up his fists.

"Show me what you've got." You cracked your knuckles, narrowing your eyes.

"Gladly." The sun, sitting low on the horizon, beat its orange rays on Sam and you, as you both waited for the other to make the first move. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to kick it off, you lunged at him for a quick jab. He dodged easily, countering with a punch that you narrowly missed. You stumbled back, already feeling a bit winded.

"Concentrate, Y/N," Sam encouraged. You growled irritably.

"I'm trying."

"No, you're not," he disagreed. He lowered his defenses and stepped up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "Your head's in a million different places right now, but it isn't here." You slumped in defeat. He was right. It had become increasingly difficult for you to concentrate on any one thing over the past few days. "I need you to let everything else go and focus on your movements and me. Can you do that?" Wordlessly, you gave him a nod, and he smiled encouragingly. "Okay. Let's try it again." Sam moved first, but you were ready for him this time. With razor-sharp focus, you deflected his blow with the outside of your forearm and used the momentum to power a right hook. He caught your fist in his hand as an impressed smile took over his face. "Better," he commended. Allowing your instincts to take over, you analyzed your positions for any weak points. Your right foot was in front, supporting the majority of your weight and keeping you balanced. When Sam had stopped your fist, not only had he occupied his hand, his left leg had also staggered back a bit, leaving his right leg exposed. You smirked knowingly. He didn't want you to hold back? Sam Winchester was about to eat his words.

"I'm not done yet." You didn't even give him a chance to fully process what you had said before you executed a turning kick aimed at his right hip. Surprise briefly filled his eyes, but he quickly recovered, releasing your fist and taking a step away.

"Hey-!" But you were faster than him, raining down fury in quick jabs and kicks that had him struggling to keep up. Finally, you lifted your knee and delivered a push kick to the center of his chest, stopping your momentum in mid-air before you actually made contact. Sam stumbled back by reflex, breathing hard as he fell to the ground. You grinned at him as sweat dripped down both of your faces.

"Now I'm done." You held out a hand to help him up, which he took, shaking his head. "Still think I'm rusty, smartass?"

"I take it all back," he replied with a chuckle.

"Good," you asserted, allowing your playfulness to seep into your tone. You squinted back at the house, knowing that Dean was probably in there draining the life out of his phone. "Okay," you said with a sigh. "If we're done out here, I've gotta get back in there and see what I can find." Turning on your heel, you began to head back in the direction of the house.

"Seriously?" Sam asked as he brushed off the butt of his jeans. "Y/N, I dragged you out here for a reason, and that reason wasn't for you to go back in and stress yourself out after five minutes." Huffing defensively, you jutted out your chin at him as you turned back around.

"I know that!" The younger Winchester crossed his arms over his chest exasperatedly as he looked you up and down.

"You're not staying out here without a fight, are you?"

"Probably not," you admitted. He heaved a sigh, taking a few steps toward you.

"Y/N," he started, "this is for your own good." Before you could ask what the hell he was talking about, he slung you over his shoulder with ease, causing you to let out a surprised screech.

"Sam!" You beat your fists down on his back, similar to how a toddler would have with a parent. "Jesus Christ, put me down, you weirdo!"

The sun was considerably lower in the sky by the time you and Sam were finished outside. It had been another fifteen minutes of you being stubborn before you finally relented and spent the next hour and a half practicing the fighting techniques Dean had taught you, and learning a few new ones from Sam. You knew you hadn't made it easy on him at first, but you were grateful for the distraction. Besides, throwing some punches was unquestionably a productive way to let out some of the stress you had been feeling.

"Hey," Sam greeted his brother when the two of you reentered the house. Dean quickly tucked away his phone, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. Sam didn't seem to notice.

"Hey," he replied. "Y/N was kicking your ass out there." You grinned triumphantly. Damn straight, you were.

"What've you been doing?" Sam asked. As soon as he asked, you fought the urge to burst out laughing. Dean's eyes went wide, but he quickly recovered, clearing his throat.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm starving." His not-so-subtle subject change didn't go unnoticed, you were willing to show mercy today. "Should we go grab some dinner and charge up?" Your stomach growled at the mention of food. Dinner sounded like a fantastic idea, but even as much as you were craving a classic burger and fries, you couldn't stand the sticky feeling that lingered on your skin. Plus, you had been dying to get some one-on-one time with Dean, and this seemed like the best way to do it.

"Actually, do you mind if I get cleaned up first?" you put in sheepishly. "I caught a whiff of myself on the way back in, and I'd really like to take a quick shower before we go." You glanced over at Dean, who raised his eyebrows when you caught his eye. "As long as your stitches aren't in the direct stream of water, I think you should be fine to shower too. Come with me?" You could tell by the roguish grin sneaking onto his face that he caught your meaning. Unfortunately, so did Sam.

"If you're doing that, then I'm going for a drive. I'm happy for you and all, but I don't want to be around to hear something that I don't want to hear." Casting your eyes downward, you blushed as Sam held his hand out expectantly. No sooner had Dean tossed him the keys that Sam was hauling it out of the house. "I'll be back in half an hour," he called over his shoulder. Dean shot you a wink as he made his way over to the stairs.

"You comin'?" he asked. Heart thumping in your chest at the way he looked at you, you nodded.

Dean beat you tot he upstairs bathroom, and by the time you got there, he already had the shower running. You smiled knowingly to yourself as you pulled off your shirt, leaving you in your bra and jeans. The eldest Winchester turned around, and his eyes widened in pleased surprise. Even though he had seen you naked many times before, he still always looked just as in awe as he was the first time. Part of you wondered whether or not that feeling would fade, although if he felt the same way about seeing you naked that you did about him, then the answer was a resounding no. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he took a small step toward you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he looked at you as if trying to reassure himself that you were real. With a small disbelieving shake of his head, he ran his hands along your sides, making you shiver. You leaned into Dean's touch as he grazed your cheek, allowing him to guide you into a kiss that left you breathless. "I want you," he whispered against your mouth. Just hearing him say that had desire spreading through your veins like wildfire. You hooked your fingers through his front belt loops and pulled him closer to you.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Hungrily, Dean trailed open-mouthed kisses down your neck and shoulders as you undid the button of his jeans. As much as you wanted to savor this, you were on a bit of a tight schedule. Dean must have been thinking the same thing. He pulled you into a heated kiss, which the two of you only broke to take off your remaining articles of clothing.

"Shower?" he practically panted when you finally pulled apart. You nodded eagerly

"God, yes." The two of you stepped over the tub's lip into the stream of the hot water, being careful not to slip. Dean's hands immediately began to roam your body again, and you let out a soft moan.

"You're so goddamn beautiful, it hurts," he whispered into your neck before sucking lightly at the skin. Said the man that could break hearts without even trying. You reached behind yourself to stroke him, arching your head back onto his shoulder to allow him more access. Dean groaned as you let your hand do the work, and you smiled at his reaction. You weren't sure what it was, but there was something that set your nerves on fire, knowing that you were the reason behind those noises. "You're killing me here, sweetheart." That was kind of the point. When he reached down to feel you, you couldn't help but gasp. "You ready for me?" You shot him a wicked smirk over your shoulder, taking note of the way his pupils were blown with lust when he met your gaze.

"You can feel that I am." Slowly, you guided him into you, letting your eyes flutter closed when his pelvis pressed into your ass.

"Holy..." Dean breathed. He moved, and you moaned again, suddenly very glad that Sam wasn't in the house. His calloused hands latched onto your hips in a way that you thought might leave bruises when you were finished, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. Unrealistic sex scenes in the movies had nothing on this. Dean's hot breath mixed with the steam from the shower, splaying onto your shoulder, and he caught your earlobe between his teeth. You let out a wanton moan as your body reacted to the new sensation. "That's it," he murmured into your ear. "Let me know you like it."

Dean's words only spurred you on, and you found yourself grinding back into him, trying to match his movements without throwing you both off-balance, in which case, the two of you would probably go crashing to the floor. Being extra careful to make sure that he wasn't going to make you fall, he wrapped a gentle but firm hand around your throat and tilted your head back to kiss you. Christ, he was going to be the death of you. One of the things you loved most about sex with Dean was that even though it was an incredibly repetitive act, neither of you ever finished disappointed. "Fuck!" you panted as he picked up speed. You were right on the edge of ecstasy, and you could feel your body begging for it. Using his free hand, Dean reached down to rub light circles in the spot that practically made your toes curl. It was exactly the feeling you had been missing, and you began to unravel.

"Come on, sweetheart," he urged. "Come for me."

Irresistible pleasure pulsed through you as your back arched, your climax taking Dean over the edge with you as you tugged on his hair. Once you were both done, you turned around in his arms, happy and spent, and kissed him tenderly.

"Holy shit," he said breathlessly. You smiled. That had been your line last time. Now that the fun was over, though, you realized that you still needed to actually shower, and you were running even shorter on time than before.

"Hand me the shampoo, would you?" As Dean pulled aside the shower curtain to grab the bottle, the two of you froze when the Impala's car horn sounded from outside. The green-eyed man chuckled.

"Better make it fast," he said, kissing you swiftly on the forehead. "Sounds like our half-hour is up."

Despite the rocky start, your day had turned out to be a pretty good one. An unexpected workout that got you sweating, great sex with the man you loved, and an even better dinner afterward. It hadn't been anything fancy, but you had been scoping out a family-owned pizza place that the three of you had been driving by for the past few days. Finally, the boys had caved and agreed to go there to get your nightly nourishment. Even though Dean had acted pouty because he had wanted burgers (but hell, you thought you had wanted burgers too), even he had to admit after his first slice that the pizza was to die for.

"I'm so full," you groaned for the thousandth time. Sam chuckled from the front seat, shaking his head at your antics.

"I told you not to finish the rest of that pizza by yourself," he reminded you, "but you didn't listen to me." The Impala rumbled down the rural gravel road as Dean neared the house. He snorted.

"She didn't finish it by herself. She had me." You leaned forward in the seat to kiss Dean on the cheek. Another thing you loved about him: he always had your back, even in the stupidest of scenarios.

"Yes, I did," you affirmed. The car rolled to a stop, and the three of you got out with nothing but moonlight illuminating your path. "Saying we shouldn't have finished it is quitter talk," you continued, punching Sam playfully in the arm as you headed for the front door. "And quite frankly, I'm offended you even mentioned it."

Before you could get any closer, Sam grabbed onto your arm tightly, stopping you in your tracks. Instantly, you were on high-alert, and your senses went into overdrive. As soon as you stopped moving, you could sense it. Something was wrong. Your surroundings were too quiet - not even the crickets were chirping - and darkness seemed to loom in the air. You looked over at Dean in alarm, and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. This had bad news written all over it, and quite frankly, you didn't have the slightest idea what was about to go down. Someone was here. And you already knew who it was.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?" The cool voice left chills running down your spine as you scanned the outdoor space for the witch. When she emerged from the shadows, her raven hair and black clothes created the illusion that she was seeping into existence from the darkness. The boys reached for their guns, and you did the same, more thankful than ever that Dean had convinced you to start carrying a weapon with you at all times. Your heart began to beat faster as you held the gun steady in your hands, but you forced yourself to calm down. Now was not the time to lose your nerve. You had a mission to avenge your mother, and not even your fear of Isobel would stop you from achieving that.

"How did you find us?" you said shakily, your voice echoing strangely into the night air. The moon cast its eerie glow down on you and the Winchesters, making the grass and trees that surrounded you seem dull and gray - lifeless. She bowed her head, but even from this distance, you could see that she was smiling up at you through her eyelashes.

"Please." Isobel stepped back into the shadows, allowing the darkness to swallow her whole again. "There hasn't been a moment that I haven't known where you are." When she spoke, her voice seemed to reverberate back at you from every side at once. Your eyes darted around frantically as you looked for any movement or sign of what shadows may be hiding her.

"Sam," you quavered. "Dean." The three of you went back-to-back-to-back to eliminate any blind spots that the witch could use to her advantage.

"Right here, Y/N," Sam reassured.

"We're not going anywhere, sweetheart."

Isobel reemerged from the blackness a few feet in front of you, and you snapped to attention again. Instantly, the boys swiveled, so they were on either side of you, a straight line of three hunters who all had their guns pointed at a witch.

"Teamwork," she remarked. "How adorable. Manete." The Latin word had barely passed through her lips when the spell took effect, your body jerking to a stop as if frozen in time. A frown flitted across your face as you tried to move some part, any part of your body. Panic clawed at your throat as you began to realize that your limbs weren't responding to you anymore. You couldn't even get your fingertips to twitch.

"I can't move!" you exclaimed. Sam and Dean glared at the witch venomously, also unable to move. All three of you were armed with guns filled with witch-killing bullets, and none of you were able to use them. You had never seen Dean look so angry before.

"It's an immobilization spell," Sam explained, his eyes never leaving the witch. "We can't move unless she breaks it." You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Sam and Dean had spent so much time teaching you how to defend yourself, and it was all turning out to be useless.

"Trust me," Isobel began as she stalked a wide circle around the three of you, making sure to keep her distance. "I don't plan on letting you two boys move." Once she had completed her circle, she came to a stop. "And as for you?" Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she looked at you. "Eritis mihi in pupa." Instantaneously, you felt the rigidness leave your limbs, and you took a hesitant step forward.

"So, what?" you snarled. "You want this to be a one-on-one fight? Fine." As you glanced over your shoulder to look at the Winchesters, you let your love for them show in your eyes. If this is what it came down to, so be it. Because of you, they had been dragged into this, and you had no intention of letting either of them get hurt. "Let them go," you commanded. "I'm the one you want anyway, just let them go and take me."

"Y/N, no!" Dean shouted. Sam's eyes darted between you and Isobel anxiously.

"What are you doing?" Honestly, you had no clue. Improvising at best, but throwing yourself into a suicide mission at worst. Isobel let out a soft tsk sound.

"Actually, that's not true. I want all three of you," she corrected. "And as for a fight? Well..." Her mouth curved into a malicious smirk. "This won't be much of a fight." With visible strain, she moved her arms up in a fluid motion, and then pushed them to the side. Much to your horror, your legs began to move against your will, walking you right up to the witch.

"What is this?" you demanded as you tried to keep your fear at bay. "You're afraid I'll kill you, so you make me your puppet?" She cackled, a vicious grin on her face.

"Oh, you're not killing me." The witch moved her hands in a circular motion, and your body turned around to face the boys. Tears of pure terror welled up in your eyes as you realized that this was what she had been planning all along. This had all been a trap. And you and the Winchesters had walked right into it. "You're killing them." Again, against your will, your limbs moved, and you found yourself pointing a gun at Dean's head. You let out a choked sob. After everything you had been through, this is how the story would end? With you killing Dean Winchester?

"Y/N," he said calmly, his green eyes burning into yours. "You can fight this."

"No," the witch piped up from behind you. "She really can't. But good try." Your finger stretched outward, itching to pull the trigger of the gun. As you looked at Dean, all of your favorite memories with him flashed before your eyes. How your heart had raced when he charmed his way into your life at that shitty diner. The smell of worn leather in the front seats of the Impala where you shared your first kiss. The feel of his warm arms around you when he told you he loved you for the first time. Sam and Dean exchanged a grave look as you let out another cry of distress.

No. You had fought too damn hard and hurt too damn much for everything to go to shit now.

Muscles cramping, your hands began to tremble, and you tried your damnedest to resist.

"I won't," you growled. Sweat beaded on your forehead as your shaking increased. The witch had already taken your mother from you. She wasn't taking the only family you had left. You would die before you killed the Winchesters.

"You will," Isobel growled into your ear. "I figure this is fair," she prattled on. "You took my mother from me years ago, so I took yours. But that still wasn't enough. I want to take every last thing you hold dear. I want you to watch as the life drains out of the eyes of the only people you have left. And then I'm going to kill you too. Slowly. I'll take my time with it, and you'll be begging for me to just kill you already." The witch was standing directly behind you, uncomfortably close. That's when it hit you. The day when Dean was teaching you how witch-killing bullets worked many years ago.

“So, are these suckers organ-specific? Like, a wooden stake to a vampire’s heart or something?”

“Doesn’t matter where you get ‘em, so long as the bullet hits its mark.”

So long as the bullet hits its mark.

The weight of the gun in your hands seemed more insistent somehow as you made your choice. Your entire body was shuddering violently now as you forced your arms back toward yourself. Every muscle you had screamed in protest. Had you been in control of the rest of your body, the resistance in your arms would have been great enough to bring you to your knees. Warm liquid dripped from your right nostril, and the unmistakable taste of blood touched your lips.

"No!" Isobel shrieked from behind you. She began to chant a frenzy of words and touched her index and middle fingers to your temples. The memories you were using to fuel your strength vanished, and all you knew was the white-hot pain that flashed behind your eyes. A scream ripped from your throat, leaving it raw as you battled through the feeling that your head could split open, and that would be it. For a brief, horrifying moment, your arms began to point the gun at the boys again.

"Y/n!” Through all the hurt, you heard Dean's voice in your thoughts, calling you back to him. Panting heavily, you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the witch from your head. You were stronger than this. You refused to be controlled by the bitch that killed your mother. She was never going to hurt anyone ever again.

"I won’t!” Your voice echoed thunderously throughout the clearing, and suddenly, you felt the cold, hard barrel of your gun against your skin.

Time froze when you met Dean's gaze. There were still so many things you wanted to tell him. Even though you had patched up your relationship, you had never gotten the opportunity to put into words just how much he meant to you. Things tended to be more chaotic when he was around, but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Because with the chaos came love, laughter, happiness, and a sense of belonging that you had never known before you met him. You loved him with every fiber of your being, and if you had to choose between him or you, it would be him - every single time.

Dean stared intently at you, alarm flashing behind his eyes. He knew what you were about to do. And if you didn't make it, you could only hope that he would forgive you for it.

The bullet tore through you in milliseconds, ripping through layers of skin and muscle, and suddenly, the witch's fingers were gone from your temples. Your muscles tingled and ached with adrenaline and fatigue as the gun fell from your hands into the tall grass. Turning around, you took a few staggering steps back as you clutched at your new would, which was profusely bleeding. Isobel Gray was motionless in the grass as dark red soaked the soil beneath her. Her raven hair splayed out in a halo around her head as the moon reflected in her unseeing eyes. She was dead.

She was dead.

You let out a laugh that sounded crazed as you sunk to your knees, and the boys were at your side in an instant, the immobilization spell broken. Dean peeled away the shoulder of your shirt to put pressure on the wound, shaking you a bit. You let out a hiss of pain.

"Why the hell would you do that?" he demanded. You brushed off his worrying and swallowed hard. The adrenaline was wearing off, and your energy was fading fast.

"I had to," you answered, pained. "You know I had to." The older Winchester spluttered in frustration.

"No, you didn't, Y/N! Not like that! You could've killed yourself!" You waved him off. It wasn't like you hadn't thought of that already. You had made your choice, and the world was better off because of it. Patting Sam's arm appreciatively, you bobbed your head at the witch's body.

"Please, for the love of God, someone make sure she's actually dead. I think I might keel over if she isn't." Still looking you over in concern, Sam complied, cautiously padding over to Isobel to check. For a terrifying moment, you were afraid he might tell you that you had somehow missed. That she was alive. But he never did.

"She's dead," he confirmed. It was over. It was finally over. The rest of the world around you ebbed with inky darkness, threatening to take over the rest of your vision.

"I did it," you panted. "Holy shit. I actually did it." Dean put more pressure on your bleeding bullet wound, earning a loud pained groan, accompanied by a few not-so-nice words. Sam came back over to you and Dean, patting you gently on your good shoulder.

"That was incredibly brave," Sam informed you. Dean scowled darkly at his brother.

"Like hell it was!" he barked. "It was fucking stupid, is what it was! Do you even know how goddamn risky that was, Y/N?" You didn't care. All that mattered was that you had finally finished what you had sworn to do after the death of your mom. Now, you could finally grieve and allow yourself to heal. You took one final look at Isobel's body and smiled weakly but triumphantly.

"Fucking bitch." You slumped back limply into Dean's arms, who tightened his grip on you, panic filling his face.

"No, no, no, sweetheart. Don't you do that, you hear me? I just got you back, I ain't losin' you again, baby." Exhaustion pulled you into its unforgiving grasp, and you sunk down deeper into its hold. "Y/N, open your eyes! Y/N!” Dean's name was on your lips as the rest of the world dulled to black, and his worried shouting followed you into the void before fading to nothing.

Thank you for reading!

There are only two chapters left in the Only You Series! Add yourself to the Taglist while you still have the chance!

Please leave feedback! I love hearing from you!

Chapter 16 - So, This is Goodbye

My Everythings:

@cole-winchester @alexwinchester23 @1-am-made-of-stardust @thorukindig @fiftyshadesoffandom6783 @hobby27 @supernaturalenchanted @organicpurplepants @odysseyofasiren @defenderrosetyler @crystal-lilac @youshrimpdickfucknugget

Only You:

@formulafun @greenarrowhead

19 notes · View notes

colbysmisdemeanour · 5 years

Note

So about Sam, i was wondering if u could write about him having a huge crush on u and u have ur prom? but ur date wouldn't come anymore because of a problem, so of course u would give up on going too, due to having no partner. When u started undressing, Sam shows up to ur apartament, dressed very nice, with a huge bouquet of roses, asking u to be his date. And a lot of fluuuuuff 😭

Oh my gosh this is so lovely , will be getting on it as quick as possible ! 💕

Here you go , hope you enjoy it x

I sat down on my dresser , touching the very last bits of makeup before checking myself out for once last time in the mirror. Perfect.

Today was the most awaited day , the prom night. Jason , my date for tonight , had asked me out almost a month ago to which I gladly obliged.

My heels clicked against the wooden flooring as I made my way down the stairs. My mom and dad almost tearing up as I came in sight.

"Mom , dad. Stop crying you guyss." I whined , almost tearing up myself too but not risking it since I spent way too much time on my makeup. I nervously smoothed out my sky blue dress , waiting to hear their words.

"My little baby girl is growing up." My dad said , wiping away the little speck of tear that rolled itself down his cheek. He picked himself up pretty well as he rushed to get his camera out , pleading me to pose for a picture.

After taking a few pics , I stood against the doorframe , waiting for Jason to be here any minute. My mom looked at me excitedly , ready to bid me a goodbye and let me enjoy the rest of the night.

My phone vibrated in my hands as I looked at the notification completely heart broken. "I'm sorry y/n. I won't be able to make it tonight , I'm going as Madison's partner." The text read.

My legs gave up on me as I sunk down onto the floor , tears spilling out of my eyes. "What's wrong doll ?" My dad asked me , at once coming to my side.

I could barely speak. The tears falling out of my eyes made me choke upon them as I felt my throat clenching together , completely drying out seconds later. My lips tried their hardest to form the words out to my parents as I watched their eyes sadden.

"It's okay darling." My mom consoled me , embracing me into her arms as I cried my eyes out , soon becoming numb to any possible feeling. I picked myself up as I walked over to my bedroom , locking myself up as I cried once again.

Little taps caught my attention as I looked out my window. Sam , my childhood best friend and not to forget , all time crush sat in his bedroom opposite to mine while he attempted throwing the nearest objects he could find.

He looked at me and pointed down towards my lap , motioning me to reply back to his text message.

Sam's POV

It sucked not going to the same school as y/n. It sucked knowing she already had a date to her prom night when I had dreamt about taking her my entire life.

I slouched down onto my bed as I played with my phone , occasionally looking over my window , hoping I'd catch a glimpse of how beautiful she must've looked tonight.

Something caught my attention in my peripheral view as I watched her plop down on her bed. Her eyes red and puffy , as though she had been..crying ? Why was she crying ?

I quickly pulled out my phone and texted her but she didn't move an inch. I tried gaining her attention but failed at that too , my only hope relying to throw something at her window and so I grabbed the nearest pen I could find and flung it towards her window.

Her head shot up at once , her lips formed into an exhausted smile. I motioned her to check her phone , soon getting a reply back. "I got stood up , my date decided to be someone else's partner."

My heart went out for her , feeling terrible and guilty. She dreamt about having that special dance with a special person , but all of that came crumbling down.

She got up to close off her blinds and proceed to take off her dress but an idea sparked into my head. I told her to wait as she was and hopped into the shower , rising off my body quickly as I pulled out my tuxedo.

Y/n's POV

I was beyond exhausted at this point , wanting to take off this dress already so that the memories wouldn't haunt me but I guess Sam had some other plans.

"Y/n ? Sam's here to see you honey." My mom called out to me as I sighed , making my way downstairs while heading towards the door before swinging it open.

There he was , standing at my front door perfectly dressed up while a bouquet of red roses in his hands , complimenting his all black tuxedo.

"H-hey.." he stuttered while handing me over the bouquet. I smiled at his kind gesture , eyeing down the roses before looking back at him.

"I felt horrible that you got stood up tonight. No girl should ever have her special night crushed to this sort." Sam started off , biting and licking his lips in nervously every now and then.

"Y/n ? Would you like to go to prom with me ?" He blushed a bright crimson colour as he scratched the back of neck , waiting anxiously for my reply.

I couldn't help but let out a smile , vigorously nodding my head as I rushed back upstairs to fix my makeup and my hair. Finally heading back downstairs as I locked my arms with his and proceeded towards his car , driving off to our prom night.

"I love this song !" I exclaimed , grabbing onto Sam's hand as I dragged him to the dance floor. Our bodies swayed against one another , my hands were wrapped around his neck while his hung loosely on my hips.

"Thank you so much for tonight Sam. I don't ever think I'll be able to repay you." I said , looking at him. He bit his lip , "maybe there's one thing you could do."

I looked at him confused , wondering what I could possible do for him. "Y/n , there's..there's something I have to tell you." He said , his eyes hiding away from mine.

"I've always had a crush on you ever since you moved into his neighbourhood. You’re this pretty , charming and kind-hearted girl anyone would love to have as their girlfriend." Sam said , confessing his prolong love to me.

I couldn't believe this. Finally , my crush liked me back. For the first time ever I felt as though my life was complete , like nothing could ever bring me down.

"Y/n ? Will you be my girlfriend ?" Sam asked me nervously , I stared back into his big blue arbs as I felt the tears brim into my eyes.

"I've always had a crush on you too Sam. I just never made a move because I thought you never liked me back." I cried out , placing my head on his shoulder as we rocked to the beat of the song.

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend." I giggled , placing a soft kiss on his cheek as we presumed dancing.

I'm glad Jason never showed up because if he did , I wouldn't be dancing with the man I love.

#sam golbach #sam and colby imagine #sam golbach imagine #sam golbach fluff #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach request #traphouse imagines

61 notes · View notes

the-magic-lava-lamp · 5 years

Text

The ‘I hate Tony Stark’ Club

Chapter 2

Summary: Bucky & Steve, childhood best friends, have been living together for a while now after being separated at the end of high-school. Together again, they’ve been maneuvering through their twenties. And through new relationships when Steve found his way to Tony Stark, another old classmate.

While making some changes to his room, Bucky discovers a box of middle school memories. The old photos are hilarious but the real amazing finds are the old notebooks he and Steve used to pass around during class.

It’s time they rediscover being the founding members of the good ol’ ‘I hate Tony Stark’ club during their sixth grade year.

Ships: Stony, Sambucky

Word Count: 3,739

“Eat your fries.” Sam glanced up from the notebook Bucky had gladly handed over only to find the man anxiously picking at his nails. He tried to give him a kind smile but sometimes he just didn’t know how the man would react to that. He was...a character, that guy. His large doe eyes gave the impression that he was actually a hell of a lot sweeter than he was to Sam. He’d been through some kind of car wreck that cost him an arm just shortly after he’d fallen out with Steve but he was now up to the point where he could laugh about it. Bucky was a nocturnal, interesting and irritating old soul that could have jumped straight from the pages of a Stephen King book. Though Sam hadn’t even finished one book by the guy, he felt that it was accurate nonetheless. Finding out he was that kind of kid in middle school who growled...well, that was just plain fitting for the puzzle that Bucky was.

“I paid good money for those and I doubt you’ve eaten more than crappy snacks today so at least get some hot food in you...” He waved his hand and flicked to another page.

Wordlessly, Bucky flipped the foam lid up and started in on the fries.

“Tony got mad because of this?” Sam quirked his brow and set the journal down and watched as his friend tried to speak before swallowing, he could be such a pig. “Close your mouth.” His nose scrunched up and he regretted that in an instant because it was always those reactions that only spurred Bucky on.

Bucky opened his mouth wide in hopes that Sam got a nice peak of the now creamy sweet potato.

“Your disgusting.” Sam felt like gagging but the sight of the guy triumphantly licking his lips and swallowing...that calmed him a little.

“Anyway, Tony was mad because of something else. He actually loved the notebook.” Bucky stood on his tip-toes as if he wasn’t already tall enough to lean over and look.

“Wouldn’t put it past him.” Sam scoffed and went about digging some more through the bin. Tony was a whole other mess of a character. Sam claims the normalcy of their little group (no matter what Natasha or Bucky had to say about it). He picked up a small pile of photos and started leisurely flicking through them while Bucky stuffed his face some more. “Oh man.”

“What?” Bucky’s attention was pulled away from the delicious food to find another picture of his moody young self. “That was...let me see...” He waved his hand and Sam handed the photo over. “Eighth grade. Can tell because I was really trying to grow my hair out that year.” He grinned.

“But were you washing it because...?” Sam widened his eyes and playfully slapped Bucky when the man had the audacity to pinch his arm. “And it was covering your eyes, man. Those steel blue eyes are one of your best traits.” He squinted at the photo and didn’t catch the way Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Shut-up.” He took a selfishly long drink of his water and sat on the stool next to Sam instead of awkwardly leaning over from the other side. “I wasn’t aware that I had best traits.” He put air-quotes around ‘best’ and went reaching into the gold-mine for himself.

“Ahh, modesty. That’s another one of them.” Sam clicked his fingers extremely close to Bucky’s face and enjoyed the look of annoyance.

“Moving on.” Bucky scowled and started a tiny pile of the photos he’d like to keep out. “Tony...well.” He struggled to find his words for a second or two but picked up when Sam gently nudged him a little. “He found out or...ok well, I told him but only because I thought he already knew-”

“Get to the point, Barnes.”

Bucky seemed to appreciate whenever Sam was a little blunt. “Steve and I kinda spread a rumor about him in the sixth grade. It had a bigger effect than we thought it would.” Bucky glanced at him with his sad doe eyes and Sam felt heat in the pit of his stomach.

“Which was...?”

“We told people that he was gay.” Bucky shrugged but Sam knew that he was currently killing himself over it just by looking at his face. “And it followed him up to high-school.” He scratched behind his ear and pushed his hair back, a nervous tick.

“That is cold.” Sam nodded and Bucky took that in with a knowing look. He was about to speak again but Bucky was quick to interrupt.

“I never would have spread it if...” He bit his lip and rolled his eyes when he thought about his eleven year self. “I didn’t know what gay meant.” He admitted, feeling a little dumb.

Sam couldn't help but break his posture to sigh into an amused but fond smile. “Perfectly understandable considering you were a stupid little sixth grader.” He could tell that Bucky got a lot of comfort out of that comment.

“And if I had known at that time...I wouldn’t have thought that was funny at all.” He widened his eyes as if that comment shocked him too but he was in fact, very casual about this. Sam leaned forward. “Because, y’know, I would’ve finally had the word for what I was.” He chuckled but still looked incredibly guilty. The way he spoke about it heavily implied that he thought Sam knew this fact which was far from the truth.

Sam felt like an idiot. How had he missed the fact that Bucky was actually gay? He always thought his flirting was missed on the guy because he was just straight.

“That wasn’t even the rumor I wanted to spread.” He wiggled his finger and drew Sam’s full attention again. He was good at that.

“And what did you wanna spread?” Sam crossed his arms.

“Only the classic reputation crushing sixth grade rumor.” He genuinely smiled for the first time since Sam walked in. “That he still slept with a teddy-bear.”

He shrugged and went for another fry when Sam started to laugh. Boy, he really adored this guy.

“I tried to...” Bucky waved his hand out but let it fall when the words wouldn’t come to him.

Sam decided he’d buy the guy some time with a little distraction and went through another stack of photos. He’d been expecting more of the middle school stuff but he’d pulled out something entirely different.

“Oh, that’s gotta be....near the end of Freshman year.” Bucky gladly took the bait and leaned over Sam’s shoulder.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam could hardly hold in his shock. Sure, he’d been aware that both Bucky and Steve had to have their growth spurts and all that puberty junk at some point but...the change (at least in the photos) was abrupt.

“Football and Baseball, mostly.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed, trying to place the memory.

The photo was obviously candid considering the odd angle and general relaxed expression on Bucky’s face. Someone, his best guess was Steve, had taken the photo after what looked like a successful baseball game. Bucky had his bat slung across his shoulders with his arms loosely hooked around it. His sleeves were pushed to the crook of his elbows and the red fabric was tight around his skin. The sun was setting behind him and for an old photo, the moisture of the raindrops was pretty clear on his face. It must’ve just begun to sprinkle.

“I’m guessing, you got really popular, huh?” Sam nudged his arm gently.

Bucky glanced at his lap and shuffled in his seat, it took Sam all but a week into their friendship to realize the guy did not know how to take compliments to save his life. But that never stopped him from throwing them at him constantly. In fact, it only encouraged Sam. “Steve was better suited for it but...” He shrugged.

“There’s that modesty again.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What were you like in high-school?” Bucky wondered out-loud and Sam crossed his arms in thought.

“I was...” He paused, glancing at Bucky. “I did very well.” He threw him a smug smile.

“Oh, alright.” Bucky rolled his eyes and went for another fry.

“Definitely wouldn’t have been your friend in middle school.” Sam scoffed and slid another picture to him. “Would’ve avoided you at all costs.” He shook his head at the image of the moody eleven year old.

“Can’t blame ya for that.” Bucky clicked his tongue. “I did growl at people...” His face turned to that amused yet grumpy expression that Sam really liked. He took the high-school photo from Sam and sighed. “High School’s when I tried to...control Tony’s rumor.” Bucky finally got out what he’d been hoping to explain.

“Control?”

“Yeah. I would...tell people that he was straight cause I’d seen him with girl and I would just make stuff like that up in the hopes that people would...lay off of him.” Bucky pursed his lips. “Once I’d figured myself out...I felt horrible.”

“I’m guessing, you guys didn’t come out in High-School?” Sam found himself wondering. In College, Steve had kept his dating life private. In fact, Sam never really saw him flirt with anybody let alone date. There’d been fleeting moments where he’d mention how attractive some guy was but that was it. The first few times it happened, Steve sounded as if he were testing the waters to see how Sam would react...and maybe even how he’d react to himself.

“No.” Bucky shook his head and scooted a bit closer. “Steve had two girlfriends, I think.” He shrugged. “I didn’t even know he was gay until we found each other again. Same for him with me. But I mean, the signs were all there, weren’t they?” He shoved the notebook over to Sam with a roll of his eyes.

“I tell ya, it was a lot for Steve to take in. He found out I was gay and that I’d lost my arm in the span of like two seconds after we met up again.” Bucky laughed.

“But anyway, around Sophomore year, we both figured ourselves out. Just never said anything about it.” And he continued to speak with his mouth full. It was as if he’d never been scolded for it. It was endearing and...

“That’s still disgusting Bucky, close your damn mouth.” That was the second time he’d told him now. Bucky only grinned.

“You know, you shouldn’t beat yourself up for this.” Sam tapped the spot on the table next to Bucky’s hand. “You were kids. It was an honest mistake that just got...bigger than you.”

Bucky took his words into consideration but still looked incredibly moody. “Tony probably hates me...even more than before.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Steve’s gonna be pissed cause we already barely got along.” He fell back into his chair and resembled a pouting child. “But maybe that won’t even matter cause I broke them up, anyway.” He threw his arms out.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Your a big baby, anyone ever tell you that?” He gently bumped their arms again and Bucky looked up at him with a scowl. “You can apologize to Tony first thing tomorrow.” He got up to throw away the empty foam container. “But for now, you’re gonna wipe that pout off your face and enjoy my company.” Sam hopped off his chair and made himself comfortable on Bucky’s couch.

“That’d be a first.” Bucky, as charming as ever, followed him and nearly shook the couch as he thumped down next to him. Heat filled the pit of Sam’s stomach when he realized this was one of the few times he and Bucky would be alone together...and maybe without insulting each other (as much).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What part of ‘don’t follow me’, was missed on you?” Tony narrowed his eyes but allowed Steve to pace the length of his living room. It occured to him that he wasn’t really enforcing the idea of ‘get out of my house’ to the best of his ability but part of him liked the show.

“Tony, did you honestly think I would just let you leave when you were that angry? I have to explain, I have to-”

“Make excuses? You already did that.” Tony clicked his tongue and flicked his hand, fully aware that he was treading very close to bitchiness. But he was definitely going to allow it this time.

Between the two of them there was a large couch, two love seats and a coffee table that was covered in papers but Tony wanted more space. He was in the mood for some healthy isolation. He decided to fidget with the designs he’d been working on in his kitchen while Steve tried to explain. He’d left some mock-ups on his counter that morning to tinker with later and now was the perfect time.

“Tony...” Steve’s voice was small as he approached the counter, slowly. But his boyfriend merely raised a brow as he examined some of his notes. “Can you at least look at me?” His voice got way too small for Tony’s comfort and he couldn’t help but give the blonde what he wanted and found his eye-line. Brown met blue and Tony waited for his apology.

“I just don’t see why this is such a big deal.”

Tony slammed his papers down and went to his fridge just so he wouldn’t have to look at Steve in that moment.

“Wait Tony, I didn’t mean it like that. I just.” Steve took a deep breath to steady himself. “I really, really liked you and it terrified me-” He couldn’t help but vividly feel those same feelings he had in the sixth grade. All that mixed up shit of always wanting to be Tony’s project partner yet not wanting to admit that he even liked him as a friend. He’d only heard the term ‘gay’ a few times in their class and never in good context....it had been horrifying to attach himself to a word that their classmates whispered in disgust. So he’d pinned it on Tony... before anyone could pin it on him.

“I know that, Steve. I get it.” Tony twirled back to him with an unreadable expression. “But you got to have that great High-School experience. A Football player, popular and chicks dug you.” Tony winked but it wasn’t with his usual charm and it made Steve’s stomach drop.

“Maybe my chances of having that weren’t that great for me anyway, being that I was a...” He paused “Dork, though I prefer the word intellectual, who had nothing but a snarky attitude to his name but...” he shrugged. “That rumor completely wrecked my experience. At least you got to figure yourself out in peace. I was being called names before I even understood my gay thoughts.”

Tony let his expressive hands fall and Steve stepped back. For a moment, they were eerily silent.

“Tony I-”

“I just want to....” He gestured absentmindedly to his papers. “Get some work done. You should go home.” He nodded. He didn’t sound all that angry anymore and that was terrifying.

Steve wasn’t about to let their relationship end because of this. Not when they were finally getting serious. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. In fact, they’d been planning on moving in together in just a short time and been hoping to bring up the idea of Sam taking his place as Bucky’s roommate in the next few days. Either that or Tony’s plan was to just start moving Steve out and moving Sam in without blatantly mentioning it to Bucky at all, which honestly probably would have worked flawlessly.

“This isn’t...-I mean, you’re not....?” Steve couldn’t finish his questions, nerves bubbling from his stomach to his throat.

Tony rolled back on the heels of his feet and let his arms swing, deep in thought. “I’m not sure. What I do know is-” He took a deep breath. “This...” He waved his hand between them and Steve followed the motion with watery blue eyes. “Will be put on hold. A break, if you will?” He scratched the base of his throat. “Just a little breather.” It almost sounded as if the last sentence was meant to reassure Steve.

Steve’s chest suddenly felt too constricting for his heart, which was beating abnormally fast. “Tony, let’s keep talking, please. I want to fix this so that we can get back to where we were. I didn’t-” He took in some more air to steady himself. “We’re coming up on the big stuff.” He sounded pathetic and maybe a little childish with the phrasing but all his life, Steve just wanted to settle down and start his life with a partner. And they were nearly there.

“And it’s been a great trip but every once in a while, you gotta take a piss at the rest-stop before you go again.” Tony’s nose scrunched up at the end “Not my best analogy but we’ll take it.” He nodded to himself, chin to the floor. “I’ll see you when I see you. But for now, it’s best you go home.” And with that, Tony turned and went for his bedroom. He trusted Steve to show himself out.

And eventually, Steve did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was stealing the tiniest glances at Bucky while the man fought to stay awake. His chin dipped every few seconds and his eyes would flutter close before shooting open at a loud sound effect from the TV.

He was tempted to smack the hand out from under the man’s chin when he started to drift again, it was something they’d done to each other over twenty times in their ‘friendship’ already. But Sam was finding that he didn’t have the heart to interrupt the peaceful moment.

Thankfully, he didn’t. Steve’s loud door slamming is what woke Bucky permanently.

Bucky shuffled out of his lazy position and crawled to the edge of the couch, hand gripping tightly onto the arm. “Steve-?”

Steve didn’t look mad, however, absolutely devastated was a good word for it. “We’re taking a break.” He clicked his tongue and shrugged. He looked as if he was fresh from a fight, feeling utter defeat. Bucky felt his stomach drop at the sight. This was completely his fault.

Sam must’ve felt his quick drop and patted Bucky’s thigh before standing to face Steve. It somehow felt odd that it was a friendly touch instead of their usual playful fighting kind. “Tony’s gonna come around, Steve. What’s in the past, is in the past. It sucked but...” He shrugged, stealing a small glance at Bucky who looked just as heartbroken as Steve. “You were just kids.”

“That’s what I tried to say.” He gently sat himself on the chair next to the couch and sighed. “This whole thing is just a mess.” He rubbed his hand against his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn't mean to start this. I honestly thought he knew about that.” Bucky was uncharacteristically nervous and almost vulnerable, Sam hadn’t ever seen him like that. But he supposed that was because they weren’t very close, at least not like Bucky was with Steve.

He waited for Steve to give him a reply, eyes wide and curious.

“It’s fine. You’re fine. I just-” Steve waved his hand and Sam could tell there was some lingering angry feelings towards Bucky that he refused to voice. Steve was always careful with his friends feelings, an endearing though irritating trait, that went double with Bucky.

“If you’re mad, I get it-”

“I’m not mad.”

“But Steve-”

“Bucky, It’s fine.” Steve gave a firm answer and Sam could see where this was heading and it wasn’t good.

“Alright. Everybody simmer down.” Sam held out his hands.

“I said, I’m not mad.” Steve let out a frustrated sigh and decided to give up on friendly chat, he wasn’t in the mood. He heaved himself up and went straight for his room, shutting the door behind him.

Bucky rolled over from where he’d been sitting and tipped his chin back to sigh. “This is gonna be a fun night.” He practically growled but then his eyes lit up almost as soon as they met Sam’s.

“What?” He felt the need to step back, a little nervous under Bucky’s sudden stare.

“You should stay over! At least until Steve’s had dinner.” Bucky was suddenly crawling back towards the end of the couch and Sam was willing himself to move but he couldn’t. The man stopped at the edge and slowly raised himself, Sam could feel Bucky’s breath pass his stomach as he moved to met his eyes. “As a buffer. You could be my Adam Cunningham.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Sam was completely thrown.

“He was some kid that Steve would pal around with whenever I pissed him off. Y’know, to get back at me.” Bucky waved his hands around.

Man, that guy could be so oblivious to how his thoughts sound to other people. Sam was amazed at how many people Bucky managed to accidentally piss off. And he’d been one of those people plenty of times before, so he tried not to take too much offense.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thanks, that’s a real nice way to look at me comforting you for the last hour.”

Bucky chuckled. “I know we’re not...the closest.” He shrugged and Sam gave him a look that implied he was correct. “But you were nice to hang-out with today and I really don’t want to be alone with Steve.”

Sam sighed, wondering how bad it could be. He’d be right in the middle of their tension and that would be torture. But, hanging with Bucky could be fun. They’d never hung out alone together before. Sam had tried to flirt with the idea before but Bucky never really got the clue, maybe it was all the teasing.

“Yeah, Alright. But, I wanna hear more embarrassing school stories.” Sam gave in and made his way around to the other side of the couch.

“You got more college stories?”

“About Steve? Tons.” Sam proceeded to launch into some of his favorite embarrassing Steve stories.

It was a nice end to the day until he started to convince himself that he was just a pawn in some spiteful game that Bucky was playing on Steve.

#is this chapter good???#let me know your thoughts #pls #sambucky #stony #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tony stark #steve rogers #marvel #the avengers #my fanfiction #winterfalcon

40 notes · View notes

pintofteaforthesoul · 5 years

Text

Fenrys’s Mate OC, Nyssa

Not that anyone asked for it, but it’s an idea i’ve been bouncing around in my head for forever so here it is: Fenrys’s Mate- Nyssa.

~~~

Rowan and Lyria’s child survived thanks to Maeve having the tribe that killed Lyria take her. (200 years prior to ToG)

Their daughters name is Nyssa.

She was raised by the tribemen until she was tent, keep under constant watch by the leader and being groomed to be his bride.

When she was 10, Maeve sent Lorcan and Gavriel to wipe out the tribe before Rowan would have a chance to- to keep Nyssa’s identity hidden.

Lorcan and Gavriel make quick work of the main tribe but it is Lorcan who discovers Nyssa- being held by the Tribe Leader with a knife to her throat.

Even then, Lorcan recognized the fire in Nyssa’s eyes and related it to Rowan.

Unbeknownst to the Tribe Leader, Nyssa carried a knife and stabbed him in the thigh with it. Free from his hold, she hunkered down while Lorcan made the killing shot.

With Rowan still away from Doranelle Gavriel and Lorcan brought Nyssa back to Maeve where she swore Lorcan and Gavriel to secrecy. She gave the task to Lorcan to train Nyssa into a warrior.

Maeve cast them from Doranelle on a “secret” mission and Nyssa grew up with Lorcan as her father.

Nyssa is the spitting image of Lyria except for her green eyes and keeps her dark hair short and curly. As a child she was small and grew up to be lithe but short. She has the barest of tipped Fae ears and smells of sweet grapes and fresh lavender (exactly like her mom). Nyssa has the ability to shift into a small calico house cat, something Maeve detests because its mostly useless in battle, and has more raw magic than any other Fae despite not knowing how to use it very well (Lorcan trained her as best he could but there were just some things he couldn’t teach).

Lorcan and Nyssa spent 30 years together before Lorcan was called back to deal with a war. While the Cadre were away for nearly a decade, Nyssa spent more time in Doranelle and became close with Connall despite his blood oath to Maeve and being forced to be her lover.

Connall believed Nyssa to be his mate and told Maeve, to which she laughed.

Nyssa believed she was to take the blood oath and finally meet her true father when they returned, but Maeve sent her on another task- her first one alone.

When Rowan returned to Doranelle, he could not figure out why Lyria’s scent was there and almost went off the rails again due to renewed grief. Those of the Cadre who knew about Nyssa and sworn to secrecy were bursting at the seams to tell him- all except Lorcan who views Nyssa as his own daughter.

Nyssa is gone for a few years but called back to Doranelle when an invasion becomes imminent. Maeve instructs her to only stay in her feline form as to not gain the notice of Rowan- with the off-hand promise that if she cooperates of her own free will for long enough, Maeve will grant her the blood oath and permission to meet Rowan.

To stop that invasion, Maeve sends Nyssa into enemy lines as a prostitute to seduce the leader of the army and slaughter him. In Maeve’s words, Nyssa does “magnificently”. This disgusts Lorcan, but he says nothing as he is still in love with Maeve.

Nyssa grows to hate Rowan, as Maeve tells her the whispers of what happened to Lyria and how it is all Rowan’s fault. She fully accepts that she never wants to meet him.

A couple decades pass as Nyssa acting as Maeve’s infiltrator, with no further mention of Nyssa swearing the blood oath, until the whisper comes that a powerful child will soon be born on Erilea (about 100 years before ToG).

Knowing the Cadre will be too suspicious, Maeve sends Nyssa- making her swear a blood promise to bring whatever child this is to her in Doranelle. Nyssa gladly accepts under the condition that should she return successful that she will be granted the blood oath. Maeve is begrudgingly vague and sends Nyssa off.

Nyssa travels to Erilea in search of this powerful child and finds utterly nothing, moving from kingdom to kingdom with little direction but mostly staying south.

During her travels, Nyssa meet Manon and they have a casual fling whenever they run across each other. Manon likes Nyssa’s stubborn and fiery spirit- and her tongue.

Fifty years into her task, Nyssa is ready to give up when she crosses the border into Terrasen. Some power tells her to remain, so Nyssa makes her way to capital where she meets Orlon.

Orlon guesses who she is and why she’s there, but is kind to her. Nyssa tells him of her story and her task to Maeve. Orlon knows it is inevitable and gives her a place in his court to wait.

Nyssa finds happiness like she has never known in Terrasen, but especially after Aelin is born. Orlon offers a blood promise to Nyssa of his own- to protect Aelin from any who should harm her. Nyssa takes it, eager to repay the kindness Orlon has showed her over the past 30 years in his court.

Nyssa takes her cat form in Aelin’s house and becomes known to the young princess as KitKat.

After the King of Adarlan’s visit and Aelin and her parents are forced back to their home outside of Orynth, Nyssa (as KitKat) is forgotten at the palace. She is not able to make it in time to save Aelin’s parents or the princess who finds herself in a river.

Nyssa vows to find Aelin again no matter what it takes, but she is trapped as KitKat after magic falls.

It takes 2 years for Nyssa to trace Aelin back to The Assassin’s Keep in Rifthold. Aelin, now Celaena, is adored at finding a calico cat that reminds her so much of KitKat. And thus names her “new cat” Snickers (not after the candy bar, but after the sound she thinks Nyssa makes)

Nyssa watches over Aelin as Snickers, never letting the girl out of her sight for long, until Celaena and Sam Cortland go to Skull’s Bay.

After the wrecking of the city, Nyssa is found by Rolfe who identifies her as Aelin’s beloved cat. Thinking to have something over the assassin, Rolfe keeps Nyssa- completely unaware of the Fae girl.

Nyssa, as Snickers, gains the favor of everyone in Skull’s Bay while trying to figure out a plan to escape. She soon learns that not long after Celaena left, she was sent off to Endovier.

Nyssa is distraught at the news, knowing she is useless in her current form and now stuck in Skull’s Bay.

Nyssa hears everything of Rolfe’s business, since he believes her to be just a cat. After hearing that Aelin is alive, she bides her time until the young Queen settles in one spot- set on returning to her side even in her useless feline form. When magic is once again released, Nyssa begins to formulate a plan as to how to reach Aelin.

Cut to the events of Empire of Storms. Nyssa is shocked when some of the Cadre appear in Skull’s Bay. Fearing the wrath of Maeve for breaking her blood promise to bring Aelin to her, Nyssa hides any way she can.

When Rowan appears, it takes all of Nyssa’s self-control to not reveal herself- still hating him for what happened to Lyria. But she knows that if Rowan is here then Aelin will follow.

Indeed after Aelin shows up, Nyssa bides her time for the best moment to reveal herself.

Unfortunately, Gavriel catches her scent and he and Fenrys track her down as a cat.

Fenrys, as a wolf, carries Nyssa, as a cat, in his mouth to where Aelin has set up shop in the inn. Fenrys drops Nyssa in a chair but she does not shift.

Aelin is delighted to see Snickers again, but Rowan stops her from approaching- his face twisting at Nyssa’s scent.

Rowan orders Nyssa to reveal herself while Fenrys and Gavriel take up their places at the door, Aedion off to the side. Aelin tells Rowan to shove it, not believing that her childhood pet could be a Fae in disguise but Rowan just has his eyes on Nyssa.

Nyssa shifts, not once looking at Rowan (whose breath catches when he sees her) and addresses Aelin.

Aelin is shocked, but not terribly surprised by the reveal- piecing together that Snickers and KitKat are one and the same.

After a little coaxing, Nyssa tells her story, barely flicking eyes to Rowan except when she describes being taken by the Tribesmen. Rowan grows paler over the course of the story. Fenrys, not having met Nyssa before now, calls out how poetic the moment is (since Gavriel had just found out about Aedion).

Aelin asks about the blood promise to Maeve, but Nyssa swears that it is gone because she already broke it and thus poses no threat. Rowan tries to talk to Nyssa, to which she replies nastily and flippant.

Taking advantage of being in human form again and that it’s late, Nyssa stalks off- taking Fenrys with her to both piss off her dad and to give her a place to sleep for the night.

Unbeknownst to them, Nyssa and Fenrys are mates. It’s why she and Connall had had such a close relationship but never took that next step.

Nyssa and Fenrys have a very loud night together. Rowan talks to Aelin about being horrified and she helps him through it.

Nyssa grows close to Lysandra and Aelin again, but not Aedion as she hates the way he treats Gavriel. Aedion calls her a hypocrite since he believes her to be acting the same towards Rowan. Nyssa tells him to fuck off and shouts that at least Aedion had gotten the chance to know his mother before she died.

Nyssa helps in the Battle at Skull’s Bay, delighting in the fact that Dorian also has raw magic. They learn off of one another.

When Manon appears in the sky, both Nyssa and Dorian are the ones to save her though Nyssa is reluctant to explain her relationship to the witch.

Nyssa, in feline form, guards Manon day and night while also discovering more of her relationship with Fenrys.

Nyssa and Rowan have a scene on the deck of the boat, where she screams at him for abandoning Lyria. It cause Rowan’s grief to surge and Nyssa chokes down the rest of her anger after realizing just how deeply Rowan cared for her and Lyria. Rowan vows that had he known of her existence he would’ve fought to the ends of the Earth to find her. Nyssa does not reveal that it was Lorcan who raised her despite Rowan’s repeatedly asking which member of the cadre it was.

When Manon wakes to full consciousness, she is relieved to find Nyssa there. At some point they have a small scene where they tease Fenrys who was on guard duty at the time by Manon pleasing Nyssa. Fenrys gets territorial and calls for a shift change, taking Nyssa back to his cabin to stake his claim on her. They still have no idea that they’re mates.

Despite knowing each other for nearly a century, Manon and Nyssa have no deep feelings for one another and Nyssa is not surprised when Manon takes a liking to Dorian. She jokes with Manon that it must be the raw magic Nyssa and Dorian have in common that makes them so irresistible. Manon brushes it off.

After that point, Nyssa is only with Fenrys.

When they trek into the stone marshes, Nyssa goes along. But when the ilken attack, Nyssa senses Lorcan’s presence and throws all of her magic into bolstering his shield.

When Lorcan appears, and Gavriel and Fenrys disappear, Nyssa tries to go for him. Much to Rowan’s horror, she addresses him as her father.

Fenrys and Gavriel attack and Nyssa is physically restrained by Aedion, much to her great displeasure and rage. Nyssa screams for Fenrys to stop. Elide gets hurt by Fenrys, Lorcan puts the shield over them both and the talking ensues.

When the battle resumes, Nyssa uses the last of her magic to blast Aedion back and races toward Lorcan. She jumps in front of Fenrys without fully knowing that he’ll stop before hurting his mate.

Lorcan rages at Nyssa to get away, which prompts Rowan to step in and declare Lorcan and Elide under Aelin’s protection.

Lorcan greets Nyssa by grabbing her hair and growling that if she ever tries that again, he’ll kill her himself. Nyssa nearly cries with relief and Lorcan embraces her tightly. Rowan addresses Lorcan stiffly and they all make their way back to shore.

Before they move, Nyssa draws her blade to Aedion’s neck and threatens that if he ever holds her back again that he’s dead.

Nyssa joyfully fills Lorcan and Elide in on her adventures, already reading the mating bond between Lorcan and Elide. She ignores Fenrys entirely. Elide loves Nyssa immediately.

Rowan and Lorcan have a discussion about Nyssa when they return to the boats, filling in the side of the story Nyssa could not. Rowan is displeased, but ultimately understands.

Fenrys tries to talk to Nyssa but she slaps him.

After the arrival of Maeve’s armada, Nyssa is one of the guards put on Elide. She accepts the order from Lorcan without question, vowing to protect the girl with her life.

When Maeve comes to take Elide, Nyssa manages to kill two of the guards before being grappled. Maeve is displeased to see her and Nyssa is horrified to see the Dark Queen in person again. Maeve simply states that they’ll have to talk later and calls Fenrys and Gavriel to her side.

Knowing it will be too late once they do, Nyssa makes an attempt to get to Elide. She slices the guard’s throat who has her and makes a running leap, but Fenrys appears and grapples her now. At the same time, Lorcan now has Elide. Maeve gives the order for them to all freeze and not run away.

Maeve reveals all about Aelin and Rowan and Nyssa cries in disbelief, now understanding that Maeve hadn’t sent her to Erilea because she was the least suspicious option but because Maeve delighted in knowing that Lyria’s daughter would be the one to protect Rowan’s true mate.

Nyssa attempts to fight out of Fenrys’s grip, to which Maeve instructs Fenrys to bite his mate- to claim her. Because of the blood vow, he does. Maeve tells Nyssa how disappointed she is and that they will discuss later about the punishment for breaking her promise. Maeve uses her darkness to render Nyssa unconscious, much to the horror of both Fenrys and Lorcan.

Nyssa is not conscious through Aelin’s lashings by Cairn and Fenrys is ordered to take her aboard the ship.

When they arrive back in Doranelle, Maeve has Nyssa beaten while she still has no magic- making both Connall and Fenrys watch.

Maeve delights in revealing that Fenrys and Nyssa are mates and Connall grows angry, still having believed that it was him. It’s another thing he holds against Fenrys.

Maeve ponders Nyssa’s usefulness as a tie between the twins and makes a show of deciding who Nyssa will be with. Nyssa is exhausted and broken, her wounds healing slowly.

Maeve reveals that this isn’t the full punishment for breaking the promise and Connall offers himself up to take the punishment in Nyssa’s stead.

Maeve merely laughs and states that she has a better idea. She uses the blood oath to make Fenrys hold Nyssa down while Connall carves into her back with his magic- the world Oathbreaker in the Old Language over and over again down Nyssa’s spine. Both brothers are horrified, but have no other choice and the word is branded into Nyssa.

Only then, Maeve reveals that the punishment has been paid and gives Nyssa the chance again to swear fealty- finally offering her the blood oath because her Cadre’s numbers have dwindled with the loss of both Gavriel and Lorcan. She also tells Nyssa that should she accept, Nyssa will have the choice of whose bed she will take- Connall or Fenrys.

Nyssa, seeing no other choice, takes the blood oath to Maeve, but uses the last remnant of her magic to burn the blood away before it can enter her system.

Going back on her word, Maeve uses her magic to twist Nyssa’s mind- making her believe Connall to be her true mate despite the blood oath. When Maeve then offers up the choice between them and Nyssa chooses Connall. Fenrys is practically a statue at this point. Maeve then orders the couple to make love every dusk and every dawn, the blood oath taking effect on Connall but Nyssa knows if she is to refuse then she would reveal what she’d done.

Maeve then considers how entertaining it would be to make Fenrys watch the couple, but reconsiders and orders him to stay in wolf form to watch over their new “guest”.

>to be continued after I read more of KoA<

#fenrys #fenrys moonbeam #rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowaelin #throne of glass #tog #empire of storms #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #OC #mate #connall #maeve

62 notes · View notes

docholligay · 5 years

Text

keyofjetwolf replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

I read this, and loved it, and will give you the comments it and you deserve later. Three things you need to know immediately, though. 1. I adored it. 2. For as long as it is, I wanted more. 3. I skipped Tracer's part andwill have to go back and read it later, because I stressed the fuck out over the plant cup. I KNOW it's going to get broken I KNOW IT IS AND IT'S PROBABLY GOING TO BE AS A RESULT OF SOMEONE BEING MEAN TO HER AND I CAN'T RIGHT NOW NOT TODAY SATAN

All of this comment is wonderful BUT I LAUGH EVERY TIME I READ THE THIRD ONE, I LOVE THAT I STRESSED YOU OUT SO MUCH YOU HAD TO SKIP IT. PROUD WARRIOR JETWOLF.

tymp3st replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

I have so many feelings about this. Anger over how Ana had failed and abandoned her being something that's always with Fareeha. That she can't help but voice her frustrations, even as it means unloading on Angela and Lena who've both lost there mothers. And, side bar, how fantastic Tracer agreeing that she would prefer a dead mother to Ana Amari is as a reflection on how she feels about what Ana's done. The confrontation at the end, with Fareeha laying out her feelings to Ana, has this sense of near finality to it. Like Fareeha's laying part of this to rest.

I am so glad this gave you feelings!! And yeah, a lot of my thoughts on Tracer are that she’s got a pretty solid sense of “It could be worse” and she means and she knows it,and yeah, when she thinks about it, it sucks that her mom died when she was little, but also, she doesn’t have a mom like Ana, so, sort of a wash. And thank you! The end was really hard for me to write and I hoped it worked.

tymp3st

replied to your post

“Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

More even than that though, I like the drifts back for Angela and Lena, seeing them as kids with their mothers. Mercy's especially, with the reflection that if only she'd known how little time she had left with her parents. How she'd have done things different. Where as Tracer knew her mom was sick. That bit with the other kid pushing her and the cup breaking killed me.

Thank you! I always worry about doing flashbacks, and so i love when it works for people. I think that there’s no good way tolose someone, and I’m always so interested in the feelings of losing someone quickly vs slowly and all the things that means. Tracer knew her mom was sick, but that also means a lot of her memories are wrapped up in her mom being sick. Whereas Mercy never had to deal with that, but she didn’t know what was coming.

paksenarrion-reader replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

I have read this through sitting here as if I were reading a crime novel and there will be better commentary from me but I have to digest this first

I AM PLEASED YOU ENJOYED

rosepetalrevolution replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

And Hana and Jack, both supporting characters in what’s really Pharah’s story (and the way Jack seems to realize it, that the situation is about and for and by Fareeha and that he needs to let her say what she came to tell Ana rather than sticking up for his best friend or anything of the sort) are still so wonderfully written and so compelling. Same goes for Ana even, and gosh good old Sam who I just have such a damn soft spot for at this point. I would’ve gladly read another 6000 words!

madegeeky replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

This is so bittersweet and beautiful. Due to my absolutely horrible bias, my favorite scene was Lena's. Poor baby Lena, I love her so much. Angela's scene was very sweet and I loved her conversation with her Mom. Pharah's complicated emotions are conveyed so well here and I enjoyed her having it out with Ana. A really gorgeous fic full of just so many emotions.

THANK YOU I LOVED LENA’S PART AS WELL. I am pleased I gave you emotions!

rhiorhino replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

I am a fucking glass case of emotion and I feel like I'm going to burst, this is so fucking good

Thank you!!

rosepetalrevolution replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

And looking back on the others and their vignettes? Damn. Mercy’s is both heart wrenching and beautifully inspiring, the way it cuts to the core of who she is and why she does the work she has taken on, why she lives her life as she chooses to in the face of it all. And truthfully it gets me so much more on board with the prodigy aspect of her canon characterization, which I always have a hard time with.

Yeah I’m not a huge fan of wunderkind shit at all, and there’s A Lot of it in OW. But I need Mercy to be...Mercy, and so I had to work with what I had, try to make it clear why she works so hard to be what she is, and how it’s more than her being “smart’ and that being smart isn’t inherently goodness or value to the world. case in point: Moira, who is awful on every level..

rosepetalrevolution replied to your post “Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

I don’t know where I expected Pharah to go in this, but the ending caught me off guard in the best way, and the way that moment evokes both some partial cathartic feeling and the unfinished messiness of the situation that one confrontation can’t ever wipe away, might even intensify or deepen? Idk how to say what I’m thinking about it but it’s just so deftly accomplished here, incredible work!!!

YEs thank you! I was hoping it felt that way, that it was a major battle, but it’s not neat, it’s still going to be messy, and while it’s great for Fareeha that she finally told her “You were never good enough” it doesn’t exactly put it all to bed.

rosepetalrevolution

replied to your post

“Love Letters (A Mother’s Day fic)”

Lena’s efforts to contain herself, the contrast between her attempts to keep still and quiet at school and her desire to get the little plant home safely is so fascinating and wonderful to me, even though it’s subtle and perhaps a small difference between these two kinds of moments. And of course thinking of how her childhood and her relationship to her parents led her to be the adult she is, just like all of them but in a way that doesn’t hurt quite the same, is so delightful as a reader

Tracer is the source of some massive projection for me, since I write her as having ADHD as well, and so her reflection of school is basically mine with an English skin on it, and just the memory of trying to be More Normal in school, versus when I was concentrating for my own sake ANYWAY NOT TO GET TO MUCH INTO MY LIFE BUT THANK YOU

#tymp3st #keyofjetwolf #paksenarrion-reader #rosepetalrevolution #madegeeky #rhiorhino #long post

3 notes · View notes

becausesebastianstan · 6 years

Text

We Should All Be Dead

A/N: I wrote this in like five hours so sorry if it’s poopy. I wanted to post something on sebastian's bday so this was really rushed. please give me feedback i won’t get any better without it! also send in requests I will gladly try to write anything with sebastian's characters or sebastian himself. one last thing please please feel free to ask me anything i like to think I'm good at listening!!! literally anything that’s troubling you!

Warnings: Mention of kidnapping

Word Count: 3500+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

An isolated group off of the coast of Greenland, in an uncharted island with technology far more advanced than the average society in the 1940s, captured you when you were 16. You grew up next door to James Buchanan Barnes. You were close friends with him and Steve your whole childhood. It wasn’t until one night when you stayed too late at Steve’s that everything went south. Bucky decided to sleep over, and despite many complaints, you decided to walk home. It was only 3 blocks what could happen? A lot apparently. You felt uneasy the second you left the home. You should’ve turned back. A man covered your mouth and knocked you out before you could scream or fight back. You woke up later, in a dark damp room, giving no indicators as to where you were. Until you heard a loud horn. A boat. Your assailant had taken you aboard a ship.

Months and months of poking and prodding. Months of experiments. They made you into a monster. They called it remarkable. They’ve never had such a success. You weren’t sure if there was a scientific term for your abilities. But you had strength you didn’t have before, and you could sense what would happen in the future, seconds, minutes, hours before it actually happened. The future was always changing though, one small thing could set off the future on a whole new path. However, this precognition allowed you to know that their success was short-lived. You couldn’t see much into the future because it was too far away, which confused the scientists at the establishment, but you knew that the demise of these people was close.

You heard it. The commotion. You could hear it from your small safe space. You heard shouting, Get the girl, a voice yelled. The girl? You? Soon enough a figure approached your door kicking it down and telling you everything will be ok. You’re safe, he said the guys are gone now. You wanted to believe it, you truly did, but they scarred you so much. They took you away from your home. Your family. Your life. One second you were being carried from the building, the next you were lying down in a very bright room. You were told the ‘bad men’ were taken down decades upon decades ago. You’ve been asleep for 70 years just about. Well, this sure isn’t the 40s you thought.

You were all over the news. The girl who has been missing since 1940. 1940. Nearly 80 years. How did you still look the same? A medical mystery no one could explain. Until Tony Stark. He approached you when you were still in the hospital. He offered you a new life, as part of the team. You weren’t quite sure what he meant by the team. Like sports? You asked, to which he just laughed. Considering all of your loved ones were either 90 or dead you shrugged and went along with it. You felt empty. Lost. Alone. It was incredibly depressing to think about so you tried to focus on the new technology in New York. Bucky would’ve loved to see this, you thought, he always loved technology.

A few weeks later you were standing outside of the compound. The Avengers. You have the opportunity to become an Avenger. You prayed that whoever these people were wouldn’t ask questions about your life. You wouldn’t be able to bear it. You gathered up enough courage to walk into the large building, remembering the floor Tony told you to go to meet the team. You felt yourself get nervous. Would they like you? Would they avoid you? You had no idea, all you know is that you just wanted a family, something to make up for your lack of one now. The elevator dinged, signifying that you reached your floor. The doors slid open to reveal Tony Stark waiting for you. A smile overtook his features, at least someone was excited about this, you thought. He led you through a small hallway into what seemed to be a conference room full of people. Oh god. You hesitated slightly when he held the door open for you. But when you walked in you were greeted with a chorus of hellos. You smiled a little, taken aback by the amount of attention directed at you. A strikingly beautiful redhead approached you.

“Hi, I’m Natasha, Tony has been absolutely obsessed with your story!” She exclaimed completely skipping any formal handshake and going straight for a hug.

“Haha, really? There isn’t much to it. Just a lot of blank spaces…” You trailed off awkwardly

“I’m Wanda, I’m relatively new to the team, but we are all friendly here I promise,” She said with a thick accent that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, as I’m sure you all know already,” You said now addressing everyone in the room when you heard a sharp gasp. You glanced around the room trying to find where it came from. You briefly looked over the room when you did a double take. Steve?

“Y/N?” He whispered stepping forward.

“Steve?” You gasped, not sure if it was really him. He was huge. Muscular. Attractive.

“Oh my goodness, is it actually you? I thought you were gone forever! Your mom was devastated!” He said engulfing you in a bear hug. You relaxed. Your best friend. He was here. How?

“Um… if you don’t mind me asking. Erm… How are you here?” You asked pulling awake

“That’s a long story, you remember me and Bucky talking about joining the army?” He asked

“Um, yeah I guess,” You said, not really sure where he was going with this

“Well, we both joined, shortly after you… y’know… and I technically wasn’t supposed to be there, but long story short, I was chosen for an experiment. So now I’m Captain America I guess, which kind of sounds really dumb now that I think about it…”

“Captain America? That still doesn’t really explain how you’re here though,”

“Oh yeah, so I was in a plane crash and I was frozen for a while,” He replied quickly, mending the empty gap in his story.

__________

That was probably a year ago. Now you’re officially part of the team. You’ve done some major bonding with the team. You were very close with Nat and Wanda, you and Steve caught up on almost everything. He pressured you into admitting your childhood crush on Bucky, which is still very embarrassing in your opinion. You felt like he was hiding something from you though. Actually, you felt like the whole team was hiding something from you. You ignored it though if they wanted to tell you they would right?

Natasha and Wanda took you out with Tony’s card and helped you catch up on clothes since you had none from before, it took you a while to completely adjust to the bustling city, people were always in a rush now. You were adjusting nicely to your new life, blowing the team away with your surprising strength. You still weren’t comfortable enough to go on missions, which everyone understood.

Today you decide to do yoga since yesterday was your hard training day with Nat. You have to admit the clothes now are incredibly more revealing, which was slightly uncomfortable, but after hearing Nat gush about how good leggings supposedly make your butt look, you gave in. The gym was empty, which wasn’t surprising because you were the only one up. You, unlike the rest of the team, couldn’t eat first thing in the morning, you needed to wake up a little first. You hum along to the music, you have to admit, you missed a good music era in the 70s and 80s. Sam, or the Falcon, made you a playlist on this thing called iTunes of a bunch of good songs you missed. Fleetwood Mac was your favorite. Music had always been your favorite. You were completely and utterly shocked when you heard your first rap song from the 21st century. As you do your yoga stretches you sing along to The Chain until you saw Steve standing by the door, his mouth was moving but you had no idea what he was saying.

“What?” You grumble, not happy that Steve interrupted your singing.

“We need to talk,” He says, in his boss voice, Well this can't be good, you think

You follow him to the conference room, where you see a box set up on one end. You look at Steve and he gestures for you to sit. You don’t second-guess him and sit down waiting for him to speak first.

“So, Y/N, I need you to look at these folders, they’re files, I’ll be right here if you have any questions,” He says pushing the box toward you, you give him a skeptical glance, but grab the folder on top nonetheless

It’s labeled. James Buchanan Barnes. What the hell Steve?. You open it to see his basic information, stuff you knew like the back of your hand when you were a teenager. His mother, sisters, all that jazz. You flip the page to see his formal title and a bunch of military terms. Sargeant. James made it. Bucky fucking made it. It makes you proud, a bittersweet feeling knowing that you’ll never be able to tell him you're proud. You turn to the last page to see a date. You were taken long before this date. You refuse to see what the date meant, you don’t want to face reality. You don’t want to know that his life was taken from him far to early. Even though that is an honorable way to die. You just can’t bring yourself to believe he’s actually dead, even though basically everyone, minus Steve apparently, died a while ago.

You look up at Steve, why did he show you this? To reopen the wound? Drain you of all emotion? He just let his eyes flicker to the box, reminding you there’s more. You put down the file with Bucky’s given name and grab the next one. The Winter Soldier. Who the hell is that? You think, you open it letting your eyes glance over this person’s file, at least a dozen assassinations were done by this person. What does this have to do with Bucky? You put that file down on top of Bucky’s file. The next file was a mission report, umm ok… You read everything, seeing how SHIELD was filled with this organization’s, HYDRA, spies. According to this file, HYDRA was far worse than the one you were connected to. That’s when The Winter Soldier appeared again, a trained assassin. Brainwashed. A ghost, no database had information linking him to an identity other than the Winter Soldier. On the last page, that’s when you notice an all too familiar name. Sergeant James Barnes. You stare at the name baffled, What does that mean? According to Bucky’s file, he fell off of the train and was never actually found. According to the Winter Soldier’s file, there’s no record of him until after Bucky’s fall. You take a few minutes to process the information before opening the last file. You find out that Steve and Tony had a falling out a couple years ago because of the Winter Soldier, or Bucky rather. Steve and Tony had reconnected a few days before you arrived, which is most likely why he was so caught off guard when you first showed up. When you finish reading you finally look at Steve again. He was distracted, typing away on a laptop when you clear your throat. He looks up, clearly startled.

“He’s alive?” You ask softly, almost as if you say it any louder, it won’t be true. Steve only nodded.

“Where?”

“Wakanda, he was in a very bad state of mind, Y/N, everything he did while he was brainwashed, haunted him. He can recall everything he did, it ruined him. He wasn’t the same Bucky you and I knew. He returns this Saturday.” He answers. Your eyes begin to water as you feel a lump in your throat go more with each passing second. How were you supposed to respond to one undead friend, now there’s two?! Steve moved to your side of the table, wrapping his arms around you. This information was so much for you to digest.

“Thank you, Steve,” You mumbled into his shoulder

Saturday. Today was Thursday, which means you have two days. You keep to yourself the rest of the day, trying to register the fact that The Bucky Barnes will be coming back. You don’t remember any pictures in the box, so you have no idea what your old best friend looks like now, would he look younger than his age by a few decades like you and Steve? Or would he actually look his age, which is close to 100 now? Wait no, that’s a silly question, he can’t be tip-top physical shape assassin and look 90, now that would be foolish.

The next day you call for a brunch with the girls, you needed to ask them about this. You confront them about Bucky, which at this point Steve had told everyone you know now, and they tell you what they know now. Natasha brings up a picture of him on her phone. You take a long look, memorizing every feature. How on Earth can someone get more attractive over the course of 70 years? You feel yourself getting nervous. Natasha and Wanda sense it and when you get back to the tower they rush you to your room, picking out your clothes for tomorrow. You usher them out, needing some alone time. You grab your earbuds and phone getting ready to let out some emotion on a punching bag.

You listen to the playlist of current hits that Sam made, absolutely stunned by the vulgar lyrics. You’d be lying if you said you hated it though. You slightly rocked to the music as you throw hard punches. You break a few bags, forgetting your own strength. After breaking the wraps on your hands you call it a day, going to shower. After your shower, you curl up under some blankets, catching up on this thing called Netflix, with Steve. You try to ignore your nerves for the night and enjoy a few episodes of Scandal.

It’s Saturday. You woke up later than usual, it was 8, and you had to train with Steve at 8:15. You are very spacey, and Steve takes notice and lets you go early. You shower and throw your hair in a messy bun, taking the clothes that Nat and Wanda chose. You change and go to put on some makeup for the day, when you hear Bucky’s voice in your head, Y’know, doll, you shouldn’t need to put that stuff on your face, any guy can see your beauty without it, he’d say, every time you’d put makeup on to go on a date. You’d just laugh it off, knowing that Bucky was just being his charming self, but deep down you wanted him to be serious, you wanted him to say that to you and only you.

You go to sit in the living room, where Tony wanted everyone to meet. He updates all of you, warning everyone to take it slow with Bucky because he doesn’t want to undo all of Shuri’s, the sister of the King of Wakanda you learned, work. You all find that as a doable thing and await the arrival of Bucky. It feels like hours have passed when in reality it was only a few minutes before the sound of the elevator brings everyone out of their conversations. You tense up next to Steve as the doors slide open. He places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly as if telling you to ease up a little. Then he steps through the door. The man you’ve loved since you were 13. He was here. He looks older, maybe mid-30s, like you and Steve. He has long hair, an elastic pulls his hair away from his face in a small bun, a ‘man bun’ you’ve heard Wanda call it. He was built, very built. His metal arm wasn’t hidden, according to Steve he used to hide it. Steve already told you about Bucky losing his arm when he fell, letting you know about the metal prosthetic. He also told you that Bucky didn’t know you were back, he only told Bucky that he had a visitor, an old friend, which confused Bucky to the fullest extent.

“Bucky,” Steve greets, moving to give a side hug to his old friend. The two exchange a few hushed words before Bucky shifts his gaze to you. Your suddenly aware of Natasha pushing you toward him.

“Hi, James,” You get out

“Y/N, my Y/N” He gasps, he looks unsure, as if you’re not actually there and you’re just a mirage. You stand there awkwardly for a moment when suddenly you're engulfed in the biggest hug of your life. You breathe in, taking in his scent. You choke out a giggle, happy you didn’t trigger any bad memories for him.

“You’re here, you’re actually here,” He hiccups, with tears forming in his eyes

“Come on now James, don’t cry,” You tease, shifting on your feet, you always called you James. When you were younger it would bug him, but the way you say his name pulls at his heartstrings.

“Doll, I never thought I’d see you again. You were gone, everyone told me you were gone for good but I didn’t want to believe them,” he says.

“Good to have you back, Frosty, but I need to finish my workout,” Sam chimes in, before walking away. You playfully roll your eyes.

Everyone greets Bucky, some more cautious than others. Tony is still a little awkward around Bucky, which is understandable. Everyone leaves the room eventually, leaving Steve, Bucky, and you together. You all take in this moment, the three of you together again. You didn’t think it was possible. You should be dead. You chuckle slightly, snapping Steve and Bucky out of their daydreams.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asks, quirking his eyebrow.

“We should all be dead right now, none of us should be here,” You laugh as you wipe tears away from your eyes. Steve stifles a laugh as he watches Bucky’s features process what you just said.

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Bucky says, not truly understanding why you find that so humorous.

“Oh c’mon James, it wouldn’t hurt you to laugh a little,” You tease, to which he scoffs to cover a small laugh.

Later that night, after everyone is asleep, you and Bucky are still catching up. The two of you are finally able to talk about nothing and everything together. You are so caught up in admiring how much Bucky has changed that you don’t notice him admiring you.

“Y’know James, when I got really lonely in my room, I’d pretend I was having a conversation with you, the guards thought I was crazy, well I guess I was, but I was lonely. I thought I’d lost everything.” You ramble, he shudders at the thought of you being hurt so much.

“Doll…”

“I’m serious, James, you got me through it, you helped me persevere in a sense. I always thought that maybe, just maybe, if I got out, I’d have a chance of seeing you again,” You whisper, fighting back tears, “Little did I know that all of their experiments drained me of my abilities so much that I slept for 70 years.”

“I’m honored, Y/N, but that strength, was all you, doll. You did that. You got yourself out.” He insists, to which you just shake your head. Oh, how wrong he is.

“No I’m serious James, I loved you so much that it helped me in the long run if only you knew how much I was smitten when we were teenagers,” You joke

“You’re messin’ with me, doll,” He pushes

“Oh god no, I wish I was, my crush was so embarrassing! I didn’t even tell Steve because I knew he’d tell you, and you were able to get any girl you wanted!” You exclaim

“All but one,” He murmurs

“What was that?”

“I only wanted one girl, doll. And that girl was you,” He states, staring right into your soul. Your breath hitches as you see him lean in. Your lips connect, and you feel like a 16-year-old girl in Brooklyn again. You feel complete and utter happiness. Your heart soars with love for the man in front of you.

“I guess it is funny, all that time, and I could’ve had you back in the 40s, it took a lifetime and a half to find out the girl I love, loves me back,” He chuckles. You curl into him brushing your thumb over his stubble as you hum in agreement. You love this man with all of your heart, and you will tell him every day until you die for good.

85 notes · View notes

imyourtrigger · 5 years

Text

Tonight I might kill myself

It all started when I was a little girl and no matter what my mother says, I feel that my childhood has been taken away from me at a very young age.

My father was a drug addict and a theif. At age 6 six or maybe even before, my parents had a huge fight, there was broken glass everywhere, screams and curses. One by one my parents broke plate by plate, glass by glass, until there was nothing left. I was so young, that all I can do is to try to call my grandmother on our big and yellow 90s phone. When my father saw that, he came, took it away from me and threw it to the wall. Yellow plastic was everywhere and I felt that I am going to be the next one to meet the wall.

My father was a great father first years of my life. He was always thoughtful, loving and caring. I felt that I get more love from him, than from the woman who gave birth to me. I don’t think she is bad and never thought, her life was a mess, her parents was strict, her father was violent, she had me by accident and her husband was an abusive drug addict.

But this day I will remember for my whole life, the day that my father became violent towards me. And that day, that day when he left the house, the last thing I wanted is to stand in front of him begging not to leave, as I used to do every other fight they had. So for the first time he left the house because I didn’t stopped him.

Time went by, and minute by minute, second by second my life became hell. Of course, there is people that in way worse condition than me, people that live through hell every day and it is so selfish to say that my life is bad, but I believe that everyone have their own kind of hell.

One day, I think I was about 7-8 years old, I sat at my grandparents house, doing my homework with my cousin. I heard that my mom came home, and when I saw her my mind went all crazy. She told me that we are moving to my grandparents. No explanation, no saying goodbye to my friends, to my room, to my house... At first I was so happy, who’s not happy to live with their loving grandparents every single day? Sadly no one told me that there is a huge difference between living with them to visiting them on Sundays.

I am 23 now, and trully, all I wish is a second to get to that place where I grew in. To walk on the street where my parents used to walk with me. To look at the playground where my father with few others builded a swings for us (it was pretty poor neighborhood so at our playground we used to have only rocks and sand). All I want is to go there and breath in what have left of my childhood.

So, me, my mother and my little brother mooved to my grandparents house. At first they where all welcoming and loving, but then it all faded away. My grandfather was and alcoholic, so that was new to me. I did not had a room and slept with my grandma, but I was little and didnt really care about that. And then my mother had to find a job.

So while my father was a part time in jail and when not, came to see us once in never and did not paid his alimony... My mother was working her ass off at some job where she had to be out of the house for a month, every second month.

So when she was away, I had to be a responsible big sister and to take care of my little brother. I did all I had to and all I did not wanted to. If I had to go out and look after my brother playing in the sand instead of ... I don’t know, doing my homework, watching a tv, playing with my friends or whatever I did that. Dishes? Done that everyday. Clean the house? Been there, done that every day. Now it might look like something minor, but I was only like 8 years old.

Oh did I forgot to tell that my cousin was prefered by everyone including my mother? Well that how it was since I was born. You cant unsee things sometimes, especially when your grand grand mother taking her in another room, giving her the whole damn toys r us, and you sitting there and coloring the damn colorbook your mother drew for you cuz you didnt had any money. Oh and that cutted postcard puzzles was fun tho

Oh and my mom used to beat the shit out of me every other day when my brother and my big cousin was the fckn angeles just because they breathe.

At age 11 we moved to another country. The one thing I asked is to go to our old place and say goodbye to.. um it, and the memories I had. And guess what? It did not happened. Not because we had no time or anything, we had plenty, we even made a video of us going through the town to our favorite places, you know to remember our country... But not mine, even if it was on the way.

So gladly (at least that what I thought), my mom, me and my brother moved to a whole new country, where my hell just expanded.

When we moved here, we had to leave with my grandma’s sister and her husband for a month. They werent happy, so they made us unhappy too. They had two sons, my uncles, one of them lived in the same town. Lets call him Sam.

Uncle Sam reminded me of my father. Same looks, same mind, but I felt that he wasnt gonna leave me. Just as a little girl I wanted to have a man figure in my life, that could protect me if needed.

So uncle Sam had a son, my cousin, who was a big, hugeeeee shit. He used to be the only child, so probably he felt that me and my brother taking it away, his mother was a shit too, lets call her Midge.

So Midge told uncle Sam to stay away from us. But he didnt needed to, we felt unwanted enough. We moved to a one room apartment and stayed away from them.

Life didnt became easier, because little children are super cruel. I started 5th grade and my little brother was at 1st. We both were bullied. The names they called us, the things they did to us, girls that I thought was my friends made my their maid. Literally. They were coming to my house, made me feed them the food my mom was counting, because we had no money, made me do everything they wanted, and then used to lock me in the shower and didnt let me out untill I screamed because the water was hot that it left it marks on my body. When they was leaving I had to clean the house, sometimes I had no time before my mother was back home, so she was hurting me in all the way she could.

I still have scars, not all of them are physical. When she saw that half of the food were gone, the screams became fists and my tears became blood. Sometimes I felt numb and sometimes I felt that I am loosing my will to live.

For how long I remember myself, I was always trying to please the people around me. They could be friends, family or people at work, it always felt like a second job, where my mind had to work extra hours.

Maybe that was because I was afraid to be beaten, maybe that was because I was afraid that they will leave me, just like my father did.

At my birthday I called my father. His stepmother answered and told me that he is not interested and that I should leave them alone. This number didnt worked afterwards. And a few years later we talked over a social media where he told some not so nice stuff and ended it with “I’ll have better children than you”.

So back to junior school where everyone was a peasant. My brother was trying to stay close to me, and everyone was laughing at us, so I decided that instead of trying to get my shit together I have to help him. Every brake I was taking him to the playground, him and a bunch of other lonely kids, those who was bullied, those who had no friends... I am pretty sure that half of the games were invented by me. So for two years I kept this children busy, so they all became friends and werent ao lonely anymore.

I still tried to do my best at the school, where I had to learn new language and to deal with bullies and at home, to please my mother, who was coming everyday back from work, and beating me no matter what. I get that it was big on her. New country, new language, new people... It was scary and she felt also lonely, but I was not supposed to be anyones punching bag. I did not deserved it.

So that how my school years went... All same pattern, sometimes better, sometimes worse. So many heartbreaks, always toxic friendships. I started to work at a very young age, tried to give almost all of the money to my mother, but it still wasnt enough.

I was cutting myself for so long... The cuts became deeper and the will to live started to fade away. But still I had no guts to kill myself. Every fight I knew, that the next will be worse and maybe the next will become the last. Maybe today was the last.

A few years ago my mother stopped beating me, maybe thats because Im taller, because I grew up and she is afraid I can slap her back?

My brother became the most annoying thing on earth. Through junior high, I was still with him on my brakes, trying to make his life easier, every time anyone had a bad word to say I was there to protect him. Karate? Paid for it. Swimming lessons? Paid for it. New toys? New computer games? Gadget? A new phone? Done it all.

Even while I was at the army, getting the shittier salary you could imagine, working my ass off at two jobs, giving my mother some money, paying for his shit and his super expensive swimming lessons, trying to give him everything we couldn’t afford for me,

Somehow, I am still a bad daughter and a bad sister.

I just getting really tired of that “You blame everyone, when you should look in the mirror” shit.

I took them abroad two times. Paid for everything. And I mean everything. Every shit they wanted, and oh no, they had no shame in wanting the most expensive things on earth, like Im a fucking millionaire. And now when I broke and still manage to pay the bills at home and still take them abroad, but ask my brother to pay with me cuz he has a job and a decent salary I AM THE FUCKING BAD PERSON

LIKE HOW COULD I THINK THAT A PERSON I GAVE ALL MY LOVE TO, A PERSON I AM EVERY DAY LOOKING OUT FOR WHILE HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW THAT BECAUSE I DONT LOOK FOR A CREDIT A PERSON THAT STARTED TO WORK AT AGE OF 18 FOR FUN WHILE I AM WORKING FROM 12 TO PAY FOR HIM HOW COULD I THE WORSE PERSON ON THE WHOLE PLANET TO ASK HIM TO PAY FOR HIMSELF

Wow

Oh, uncle Sam died and that was devastating

The saddest thing is he died because he was lonely and his heart was broken

His parents, they moved to another country to his brother, his brother didnt wanted him, his wife left him and he was all alone

I wish, I wish he could inly knew how deeply I cared for him, how I wanted us to be closer, how good he was... It truly broke my heart in a million pieces.

His mother (my grandmas sister) came back here and passed away also. And her husband couldnt leave back because of the loan he had here

He went to live at Midges house then she kicked him and guess what? Hes sleeping in my mother’s bed

AND SOMEHOW I AM THE BAD PERSON AGAIN

HOW CAN I BE MAD AT A PERSON WHO MADE MY FAMILYS LIFE A LIVING HELL BUT AS WE SWITCH ROLES I HAVE TO BE I BIGGER PERSON AND ACCEPT HIS HOMELESS ASS HERE

I am very loving and caring person. But nobody has done that for me. He would never help me, and I know that for sure. He was screaming at me, he was trying to beat my little brother and now I have to accept that he is, an alcoholic, abusive person sleeping in my mothers bed, and she has to sleep with me? (Thats not the problem ofcourse, I love my mom no matter what)

And when he finally leaves, even tho I tried to be nice, and prepared him food and showed him how to use the tv and shit, my mom tells me that I am a bad person? Sorry that my life teached me that people will use your good heart against you.

I finally felt like I am mentally stable, that I am me, the good me. Not the depressed cutting wanting to die me. Finally had my shit together and felt so happy about it. I had my skin care routine after work, had my half hour to write in the diary and my 1 episode per night before bed routine that made me so fucking happy and glowing, and then the person that made me only bad comes and ruins it all and I have to accept that?

I finally made it, made it to the top of me where all I wanted is to live, where all I was is happy, and instead of understanding that, or at least carring about your daughter’s mental health and I dont know, even speaking with me about that, you just throw this shit at my face.

“You need to be tested”

“You are crazy”

“I wish I didnt had you”

Instead of

“Are you okay, do you want to talk about that?”

“Do you want to see a professional? I will support you”

“I dont know what I would do without you”

It just hurts that when you try to talk about maybe having a problem or when you try to speak your mind, or when you talk about your feelings to the person you care about the most... You got to be called a drama, you didnt get to even finish the sentencse... Somehow the problem is always in me and my feelings.

It hurts when your brother doesn’t care as you did and do about him.

It hurts that things that are important for you doesnt counted as important at all.

It hurts that your feelings not important.

You are not important.

That your sacrifices aren’t sacrifices.

And if you try to talk about yourself, you are selfish.

People say that no matter what’s happening, your family, your home, is the place that you can be you in it. A place where you are not judged.

Well, my family doesn’t count.

So maybe its better not to be counted at all.

0 notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 years

Text

A Boy Named Dean

Summary: Dean is cursed by a witch which leads to some hard times around the bunker...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,300ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Funny-ish, angsty-ish, implied smutty-ish, this baby’s got it all...written for @jalove-wecallhimdean ‘s SuperBusters Challenge! My quote was, “Are you sure you’re using that thing correctly?”...

“Dean, down!” you shouted at him as he was hit in the face with a green powder. He dropped to his knees in a coughing fit, rubbing at his eyes while the witch by his side smiled to herself.

“Y/N, get down!” you heard Sam shout as he appeared behind her. You hit the floor, a shot ringing out overhead and then a slump to the ground. You looked up to see the witch on the ground and Sam rushing over to Dean. “Dean, Dean you okay?”

“I think...” he said between coughs. “Think so.” He rubbed his face with his palms a few more times before he opened his eyes. “We didn’t get so lucky that this is nothing right?”

“Grab her spell book Sam while I get Dean cleaned up and in Baby. Let’s try to figure out what she did to him before it happens,” you said, helping Dean stand.

“Sounds good to me,” he said, his voice a little higher than normal. He was probably just nervous.

“Sammy find anything yet?” you asked when you were back home that night. Sam shrugged. Dean had acted fine and insisted that nothing was wrong. “Maybe she just threw her protein powder at you or something.”

“Whatever it was, I say we call it a night. I think we caught a break for once,” said Dean, getting out of his seat and pulling you out of yours. “Night Sam.��

“Night guys,” said Sam, shutting his book and heading off for his own room.

“You sure you okay?” you asked Dean when he crawled into his side of the bed, throwing his arm over you.

“I’m fine. Goodnight, Y/N. Love you,” he said, kissing you before nuzzling himself against you.

“Love you too De.”

When you woke up you felt weird. Not you per say but something was definitely off. You rolled over to burrow into Dean’s chest while you waited for him to wake. Instead you found yourself face to face with a gorgeous blonde.

A gorgeous blonde woman.

“What the fuck!” you shouted, jumping out of bed as the woman stirred and opened her eyes. Green eyes you’d recognize anywhere.

Oh no. No. No, this was not happening.

“What’s wrong?” asked Dean, climbing out of bed and falling straight to the ground. You saw him sit up on his knees and look over to you with wide eyes. “Why aren’t you so short anymore?”

“Dean?” you asked, his, her eyebrow raising just how Dean’s did when he was confused. Oh fuck. “Oh baby I don’t how to even say this but...you’re kind of a chick.”

“That’s not-” he said, looking down at himself. The strong arms were gone, the scruff replaced with smooth skin, his hands and feet were small and he was sure to notice the muscled chest had been replaced. “I have boobs.”

“Yeah, they’re fun. Come on,” you said, walking over to help him stand. “Let’s get Sam and figure out what happened.”

You took hold of one of his hands in yours, both of you feeling the strangeness of how his hand no longer enveloped yours so easily. Pulling him to his feet was a sight too.

“Aw, you’re shorter than me,” you said, ruffling his hair that was in beautiful waves.

“By like an inch. Are you always this weak?” he asked, steadying himself as he caught your face. “I didn’t mean-”

You shoved him backwards on the bed, Dean letting out a huff and holding up his hands in surrender.

“I could kick your ass six ways from Sunday when you were a fully grown man,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Dean groaned, or meant to at the very least, but instead whined. “Watch yourself.”

“I know that. I mean guys are all solid and heavy. This...it’s lighter. It just feels funny,” said Dean, giving you his in trouble look, looking somehow more innocent on that soft and pretty face.

“Let’s get you back to normal,” you said, offering a hand he gladly took.

“It is a little funny,” said Dean, walking by your side as you had a hand on his lower back as he got his legs under him. “You’re the big one now.”

“I’ll protect you from all the boys,” you said with a laugh.

“You better. I’m freaking hot,” said Dean, looking down his shirt. You pulled his hand away and scowled at him.

“Let’s just hope we can fix this fast,” you said, turning down the hall.

Sam was in the kitchen eating breakfast when you strolled in, his eyes going wide when he saw the blonde next to you.

“Invite a friend over last night or something Y/N?” asked Sam.

“Dude,” said Dean, waving his hands at himself. You braced yourself for the moment Sam realized that was his big brother by your side. “It’s me. Dean.”

“Oh,” said Sam, his face doing a good job of hiding his shock. “Well...that’s not good.”

“No shit,” said Dean, stepping down into the kitchen and over to the fridge. He opened it up and whined again. “I wanted bacon.”

“It’s up top,” you said, walking over and standing on your tip toes, fishing your hand around and handing it down to him.

“I want to be tall again,” he said, moving to the stove and dragging his arm along the counter the whole time.

“You sit over there until you get a handle for your size,” you said pointing at the table. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“I can do it,” said Dean, resting his hand on top of the burner without realizing. You snatched at his wrist and he threw you a look to kill but looked more cute than anything else.

“Table before you hurt yourself,” you said, pushing him over there as Sam struggled to hide his laughter.

“Glad you’re enjoying this,” said Dean, sitting and crossing his arms over his chest. “Ugh, why do your arms stick out so far?”

“I will feed you and keep you from killing yourself while Sam finds a cure. Everybody good with that plan?” you asked both boys.

“Sounds good to me,” said Sam. “But...you gotta let me torture him a little,” said Sam looking over to you. Dean looked on with wide eyes, probably recalling every childhood moment he did something to Sam.

“Sam,” you said, turning over Dean’s bacon, wondering how quick before Dean was booking for it.

“Touch me and I will destroy you when I’m back in my body,” said Dean, standing up, trying to get in Sam’s face but only meeting his chest.

“Oh yes, very intimidating,” said Sam. “Y/N’s scarier than you though so if she says you’re off limits, you’re safe.”

“Thank you Sam,” you said, Dean still grumpy as Sam laughed to himself.

“Who knew I’d get two little sisters?” he said, Dean smacking him on the arm but not delivering the impact he was expecting. “Aw she’s adorable.”

“I will murder you if you call me a chick one more time,” said Dean.

“Behave,” you said to them both as you gave Dean a plate full of greasy bacon you ordinarily wouldn’t want him to have but what the Hell, he was having a rough morning.

“We’ll take care of you De,” said Sam, ruffling Dean’s head as he headed off to work. “Are you taking him grocery shopping?”

“No,” you said. “Dean’s staying here until we get this solved.”

“Good,” said Dean, scarfing down his food. You talked to Sam for a minute about what books you might be able to try before you headed back and Dean was nowhere to be found.

“Dean?” you called out.

“Bathroom!” he shouted. You wandered down the hall until you got to the one your shared. You knocked before entering but Dean was just standing by the toilet, squirming. “I got to go.”

“You just sit and go,” you said. Dean raised an eyebrow at you and scowled. “Dude, sit down like you’re going to go number two and just...go.”

“I don’t want to sit,” said Dean, kicking off his way too big sweatpants.

“Dean come on,” you whined. He sighed and you turned around. “Just...tell me if you need help.”

“I know how to pee,” he said. You heard him sit and then a few seconds later go. “That’s better.”

“Good. Now wipe yourself off and let’s get you in some-”

“Y/N? What...” he said. You turned around to see him looking at the toilet. “Why is it red?”

“Fucking Hell,” you said, moving over to the closet and grabbing two boxes. “Congrats Dean. You got your first period.”

“What the fuck! I don’t want that!” he said, trying to pull his underwear back up.

“None of us do but we live with it. Pull those...shit you still have on boxers. Stay,” you said, running to your room and grabbing a pair of soft underwear for him. “Put these on.”

“Why is it so tight?” asked Dean, pulling them on as you looked him over. Definitely not tight.

“Because your bits are inside. Now this is a tampon,” you said, opening up one of the packages and showing him the applicator. “You put this up your-”

“Are you sure you’re using that thing correctly? That sounds wrong,” said Dean.

“Fine. You don’t go swimming and we’ll stick to pads,” you said. You ripped open one of those and peeled off the backing. “Stick it to your underwear, put on a new one every few hours, put on the thicker one when you’re sleeping. Simple as that.”

“This is Hell,” said Dean.

“Now you’re getting it.”

“Y/N, I’m dying,” said Dean a few hours later, walking into the library where you worked while Sam took a break. “It hurts.”

“Someone once told me it’s only cramps, how big a deal can it be,” you said. Dean rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. Women are amazing. Men are stupid. Help me,” he said with a whine.

“Some men, not you. Go take some of the medicine I put on the counter and use the heating pad. You’ll feel a million times better babe, promise,” you said.

“Alright,” he said. “Thank you.”

You’d survived that tortuous week and Dean was feeling better apart from the fact that he was still a man trapped in a woman’s body. He was starting to get desperate to get out of the bunker though and you knew that would entail a whole other battle.

“If we’re going out, you can’t just wear your shirts and sweats Dean. You have to wear clothes that actually fit, ya know, dress like a girl. Including a bra,” you said. You hadn’t made him wear one around home due to his protests but out in public was a different story. The fact you wanted to play dress up with him was beside the point.

“Fine. But you put any make up on me and you ain’t getting any for a week,” he said.

“I ain’t getting any now,” you said with a laugh.

“Fun fact, girls when you get horny, you just don’t let that go do you?” he asked. “You just bottle it all up.”

“You can get yourself off. I mean, you know how girls do it,” you said. “You’ve watched me.”

You saw Dean pause before looking over with dark eyes.

“No Dean,” you said, seeing him cock his head.

“You’re no fun,” he said.

“I’ll put makeup on you,” you said, pointing a finger at him. He grumbled but behaved, shimming into a pair of dark skinny jeans. He needed help with the bra but surprisingly the tank top was the thing he was most annoyed with.

“My arms are cold,” he said. You tossed him one of your favorite flannels.

“There, now you won’t be cold,” you said, waving him to follow after. He shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers you had and trotted down the hall, catching the light jacket you gave him before you climbed into Baby and drove the two of you to the park.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, getting out as he looked around. “It’s kind of gray out today.”

“We’re going for a walk,” you said, walking over the grass and to the nearest trail. You spun around and he was following after, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Do you want to hold my hand?”

“I thought I repulsed you,” said Dean. You couldn’t hide the flash of hurt on your face and tucked your own arms over themselves as you started to walk. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping a few steps ahead of him. He was quiet, eventually keeping up with your pace so he was by your side. You could see being outside was good for him. But when he saw three men a little older than yourself walking back the other way he tensed up. “You’re still a badass hunter. You’re okay.”

“No I’m not,” he said, glancing over to you. You pushed him to the side a little, putting yourself between him and them as you passed by. The men did that thing where they pushed off to their side as well, giving the two of you space as you went past. When they were long gone Dean finally relaxed.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you Dean,” you said, uncrossing your arms. Dean took his hands out of his pockets, letting you wrap yours around his.

“What if I’m stuck like this?” asked Dean. “I don’t know how to be a girl.”

“We’ll find a way,” you said, leading Dean towards the longer path when the trail split. He was quiet before hastily pulling his hand away the second he saw another person. You sighed and grabbed his hand, holding it as they went past.

“You got my back,” said Dean with a tiny smile.

“Always. Let’s have some fun with this while we’re stuck with it. I can show you how to get free drinks,” you said, bumping into his hip. “Want to go out tonight?”

“Sure,” he said. “No make up though.”

“He told me he was a lawyer. Yeah right,” said Dean with a laugh as you two walked in the bunker late that night, Sam eating a snack at the table.

“You girls have a night out?” asked Sam with a smile.

“Three bars, who knows how many drinks and we didn’t pay for a single one thanks to your flirt of a brother,” you said, high-fiving him.

“What can I say, the ladies and apparently the men dig me,” said Dean, sitting down beside Sam.

“Good. I haven’t seen you smile in forever man,” said Sam. Dean looked down and let himself remember that despite Sam’s teasing, he was there for him too.

“Any luck today?” you asked Sam. He shook his head and you sighed.

“I did have any idea though. Maybe...it’s a really stupid idea but maybe you should kiss Dean,” said Sam.

“No,” said Dean harshly. Suddenly you felt a million times worse about every unconscious reach away from him you’d done over the past week. You hadn’t meant to but it just kept happening. “It makes her uncomfortable.”

“Screw it, I still love you,” you said, walking over to Dean, leaning over and kissing him full on. He was still soft, still plump, still perfect.

“Anything?” asked Sam when you pulled back. “I thought maybe true love’s kiss or some crap like that.”

“It was a good idea Sammy,” you said. Dean looked flushed and taken aback. “I’m going to bed. Come on Dean,” you said, holding out a hand for him. He took it less reluctantly this time. You just wanted him to feel okay again.

“Dean,” you said as you crawled into bed. He kept his back turned to you, doing that thing where he slept on the edge of the mattress so he didn’t accidentally touch you. “Dean.”

All you received was silence. You groaned and shifted over, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him into you.

“Let go of me,” he said, squirming but giving up knowing how good a hold you had. “Y/N, just-”

“I haven’t told you I love you in a week Dean. I’m so sorry for that,” you said. He breathed heavily, turning his body around and curling into you. He rarely did that, only on the worst days. The tiny body clinging to you made your heart break over and over again.

“I didn’t say it either. You don’t have to apologize,” he said. He sounded too happy though.

“Are you alright?” you asked, feeling him laugh against you.

“I’m not upset. I want to be little spoon tonight. I never got to actually be the little one in the little spoon,” he said.

“Oh I’m so reminding you of that when you’re in your body and want to be little spoon,” you said with a laugh, wrapping yourself around him protectively.

“What do you want to do tomorrow? I’ve always wanted to see the inside of a Victoria’s Secret without seeming like a creeper,” said Dean.

“Want to buy some hot lingerie for me?” you teased.

“I want us to buy some hot lingerie for you for me,” said Dean. “A little present for us both when things are right in the world again.”

“What gave my little Debbie Downer all of this hope tonight?” you said, hugging him tightly.

“You, Sam. If I’m stuck...I was afraid of what you two...but that was stupid. You both love me and always will,” said Dean.

“If you’re stuck, Dean...we’ll find a way to make it work.”

When you woke up you could feel Dean pressed up against your back, arm thrown over your waist. The guy was a natural big spoon, what could you say. But that arm was...heavy? You sat up fast, your eyes wide as you shook Dean awake.

“Dean!” you shouted at him, watching him flash his eyes open and sit up fast. He looked down at you and saw your smile.

“I’m...I’m back,” said Dean, a grin crossing his own face as he suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Holy crap these underwear are tight.” He pushed off his pants and shed the pair of bikinis that didn’t even contain him to the side, shimmying back into a pair of boxers from the drawer. “How did...”

“Guys!” shouted Sam from down the hall. “I think I was onto something with the kiss. You haven’t noticed anything yet have you?”

“Hell yeah we did!” said Dean, running over and picking you up, carrying you out into the hall to see a smiling Sam.

“Hey! You’re still shorter than me!” said Sam, wrapping the two you up in a hug.

“Yes I am doofus,” said Dean. “All we had to do was kiss this whole time?”

“Apparently,” said Sam. “Knowing you two, I’d have figured even Dean being a chick would have gotten you under his spell, Y/N.”

“Speaking of which, I haven’t loved this woman in two weeks,” said Dean, carrying you back into your room.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” said Sam, waving as he shook his head and booked it out of the bunker.

“So,” said Dean, plopping you down on the bed and hovering over you. “I may or may not know what it feels like when a woman such as yourself hits that high.”

“Of course you played with yourself,” you said with a laugh.

“Research,” said Dean with a devilish grin. “I got to say, I think you’re in for a treat today Y/N.”

“Oh really?” you said, Dean nodding against you.

“I tried everything sweetheart. We are going to have a whole lot of fun,” he said with a wink.

“Maybe this won’t turn out to have been such a bad thing after all.”

@anokhi07 @xxwinchester-22xx @charliebradbury1104 @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug@darkx143 @kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf @smoothdogsgirl @dancingalone21 @ktrivia @demonic-meatball @oaisara @feelmyroarrrr @cojootromuelle @gallifreyansass@fangirl1802 @itstheprincess @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass @mogaruke@secretlyfurrydragon @perpetualabsurdity @ria132love @heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn @docharleythegeekqueen @missmotherhen@smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester @tumblinwith-me @xfanqirlinq @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou @hey-um-misha@bennyyh @acreativelydifferentlove @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67 @evyiione @jensenackesl @xxxdevine-demonsxxx @ayeeitsemry @mac5323 @bellastellaluna @atc74 @captainemwinchester @lemonadegazeelle @nanie5 @baggily-pantz @idalinette @maximoffangel-girl

951 notes · View notes