#o to give sam a sleep without nightmares

[zmediaoutlet]

Sam’s not sleeping when Dean pulls off the road. “What,” Sam says, although without a lot of interest. State highway after midnight and exactly no one to see, but Dean coasts down the gravel shoulder to the pitted asphalt-and-dirt road that turns off into—sparse woods, a sign that says NO HUNTING. Sam snorts.

“Gotta take five,” Dean says. Sam nods, arms folded over his chest. Shadow-shapes in the dark, his eyes slanted away at some terrible inward thing. Out of the car there’s moonlight peeking through the tree-tops and Dean left the headlights on, so he doesn’t trip and break his neck on his way to water a patch of weeds. He zips up and then stands there, breathing. Dirt and mulch. Kinda acrid now but not any worse than the woods usually are. Not that different from where they’d buried the vampire kid—god, less than six hours ago. Soft dirt there and they’d made a good grave, burned him right, covered the charred bones. Sam hardly looking at him then, too. Like finishing the hunt hurt as much as sitting around thinking about the other dead kid had.

Dean hasn’t got much in his back pocket, when it comes to making Sam feel better. They’ve been doing this so long they’ve got rhythms they follow and he knows that he’s—tough, sometimes, and he can be a real pain, and Sam always seems to have some way to grip Dean by the wrist and pull him up and be solid as mountain rock for Dean to brace against. He doesn’t have a roadmap for when the rock starts to slide under his feet. He can say some of the dumb crap he’d offer to civilians but Sam’s too smart for it to work; he can offer work, or duty if work itself doesn’t do the trick, but Sam’s never felt the pull of that the same way Dean has, and if Dean’s honest he’d be freaked if Sam really bought it. With how Sam’s been talking Dean’d be willing to throw on Steel Magnolias and give him a foot massage if he thought it’d help, but it wouldn’t, and he doesn’t have much left to offer, to try to make it—not fixed. Fixing it isn’t something he’s been able to do since he was five years old and everything went wrong. But maybe it could be—

He comes back to the car and opens the trunk, instead. Then to the passenger side, where he opens Sam’s door, and Sam looks up at him narrow-eyed but not frowning. Tired. Sad, which makes Dean’s throat do something weird, and he clears it before he says, rougher than he means, “You gotta piss or anything?”

“No,” Sam says, tilting it like Dean’s the weird one. Well, fair enough.

Dean nods. He twists the cap on the bottle he fetched and takes a long burning swallow. Sam shakes his head when Dean holds it out but Dean waggles it at him, and Sam’s not yet so oatmeal-hippie-health conscious that he won’t have a drink with Dean on the wrong side of dawn. His lips pull back like it stings. “Good value for fifteen bucks,” Dean says, and Sam raises his eyebrows, and Dean crouches then in the open door, puts his hand on Sam’s leg. Curling his fingers around the inside of Sam’s knee.

They’ve been doing this so long, they’ve got rhythms. Sam’s chin tips down. “I don’t…” he starts, but he bites his lip and breathes in long and slow through his nose and Dean doesn’t know what he would say, anyway. That it was too fucked up, that he missed all the people they’d lost, that the dark was so heavy it had this velvet choking intensity, so bleak no light could ever get through. Pick a number.

But Dean’s left the headlights on. He pulls, and Sam swivels on the seat so his bootheels crunch in the gravel, and Dean settles down on his knees and reaches up and puts his hand on Sam’s face, and watches Sam close his eyes. His jaw clenching. Stubble thick and sharp and his face as hollow as it was when Jack—when—

Dean unbuckles Sam’s belt. The button, the zip, and once he smacks Sam’s hip he lifts up enough so Dean can yank everything down. He’s soft but so what. Dean’s worked with worse. He spreads his hands over Sam’s bare thighs, hair prickling in the autumn air, licks his mouth wet, and when he takes Sam in it’s—everything familiar, good. Gravel biting into his knees through his jeans. He tongues under the soft ridge of the head, breathes through his nose. The rarity of getting to go down to the base without choking, suckling soft, salt under his tongue and the bitter of a long day and Sam’s fingers sliding through his hair, holding the back of his neck so careful. Like Dean will get hurt, doing this thing he’s been doing as long as his life has been worth anything. Like Dean’s doing Sam a favor, here, when he’s split halfway between wanting Sam to stop thinking and wanting his own brain blank as a snowfield.

A weird strangled breath, above. Dean slurps back and kisses Sam’s hipbone, and drags his shirt up and kisses his belly, hair prickling his lips. “Let me,” he says, asking for—a lot, maybe—and Sam doesn’t say anything but his thumb drags up into the soft hollow at the top of Dean’s spine and his thighs tip wider. Dean presses his forehead to Sam’s stomach. Weirdly grateful, in a way he can’t ever say aloud. This one good thing. Then he pushes Sam to sprawl back across the bench seat, and holds Sam’s hips in his hands, and takes his brother into his throat.

[lilacxrosesx]

gia was letting the days roll by, staying within the confines of xavier's apartment, finding comfort in the little things that surrounded her. how nothing in he space reminded her of anything o do with her old life or the fact that she was fool for thinking she could trust someone she'd known for most of her life only to be very wrong. she was very much the type of person to give someone the benefit of the doubt, to allow them to grow, and learn from their mistakes and give them a second chance. however this time she was certain that it was not at all redeemable, by words or actions. she didn't have an interest in seeing anyone else at the moment though she did send a few messages to sam and skye just to reassure them that she was still intact and nothing had happened to her since. he fact that xavier was so protective of her was rather interesting to her, considering she had always thought their friendship was more one sided but as of late he'd shown her the complete opposite, more so that it was mutual which surprised her in the best way. he was a stubborn man, and he tended to do things without thinking which is why she refused to bring up the few things he'd done lately that made her feel like things were blossoming some what. everything had taken a halt with the incident and i was almost like they were frozen in time which gia didn't mind because she loved nothing more than to press the pause button and put herself first for once. she woke up the next morning with him next to her in the bed. she knew that they wouldn't be cuddling, because that was alot to expect of him but the fact that he agreed to sleep next to her for a level of comfort was something. she shuffled a fraction, trying her best not to wake him up. he'd slept pretty soundly, and she knew that he had nightmares, though she tried not to read into it that he had anything to do with her being near. @me-x-the-devil

[bentobarnes]

* smut/mention of smut

SERIES

little joy AU ∣∣ you and bucky decide to move into a beautiful cottage in the woods and start a family. In the end, it's all the big and small moments that matter with your loved ones.

the woman with the wolf AU - completed ∣∣ bucky keeps having the same dream, the same woman with the same wolf. What happens when he actually finds her?

obsidian - completed ∣∣ you and bucky lead a peaceful life after the big battle with thanos but what happens when one day everything starts to get a little bit stranger?

ONE SHOTS

happy secret ∣∣ bucky is having lunch with Nakajima after 2 years of not talking with him. Yori wants him to go on a date with Leah (the bartender) but encounters a pleasant surprise.

something about you ∣∣ bucky never thought he would ever start liking you but then he realizes that he not only likes you. He loves you and you love him, too. Both of you denied your feelings until one day...

love language ∣∣ bucky asks reader, who works at the compounds coffee shop out for a date! It's his first date since the 40’s and he is all nervous and shy.

forget-me-not ∣∣ bucky falls in love with the local flower shop owner and she does the same.

oasis * ∣∣ the reader calms bucky down after they see the news of John Walker.

everything I ever wanted ∣∣ what happens when Bucky didn't fall off the train? Instead comes back to you and finds out a pleasant surprise.

i will come back to you. It's a promise ∣∣ you and Bucky made a promise. But what happens when one of you breaks that promise?

take me with you ∣∣ you and Bucky are going on a mission with Steve and Sam but would they let you if they knew you and Bucky will never come back?

insecurities ∣∣ bucky comforting s/o with her insecurities.

warmth * ∣∣ bucky helps you deal with the cold.

thunderstorms ∣∣ reader is afraid of thunderstorms but bucky is there to give her comfort.

rockabilly ∣∣ sam introducing his friend to bucky, where the reader has a big rockabilly aesthetic.

metal arm = canvas ∣∣ you paint over bucky's metal arm.

red string ∣∣ you can see people's red strings connecting them with their soulmates but you were born without one... until one day.

away from me ∣∣ sometimes the villain falls in love with the hero in the first place.

nightmare ∣∣ bucky comforts you after a nightmare.

milkshake and a coffee ∣∣ you work as a waitress in a local cafe little did you know the shy guy from the art school has a pretty friend.

saviour complex ∣∣ bucky feels insecure of the thought that you are with him because of your savior complex. when you, bucky and your teammates get drunk a question arises, which leaves bucky to think things that are not true...

i know ∣∣ reader meets Bucky for the first time and they end up dating a month later. They are sleeping in bed and he has a nightmare but doesn’t want to tell her but she already knows.

jacket for my soldier ∣∣ being a fashion designer is a big advantage when you want to surprise your super-soldier.

jacket for my soldier 2 ∣∣ going to latvia to help bucky with a mission, you have to design a guest room as a distraction.

sex pollen * ∣∣ while on mission you get affected by pollen, which makes crave having sex with one particular super-soldier.

werewolves ∣∣ bucky is an alpha without even knowing it until one day he has to give you some of his blood. what happens when you start feeling weird, too?

winter storm * ∣∣ you are caught in a terrible winter storm and bucky has no other chose than to keep you warm.

relieve the pain ∣∣ hairdresser reader gives bucky a scalp massage to help him during a headache.

what the hell * ∣∣ steve finds out that his little sister is not innocent anymore.

you can do it! ∣∣ bucky encourages you during the labor of his child.

the tattoo * ∣∣ you get a tattoo dedicated to your boyfriend and he is head over heels for it.

back alley * ∣∣ you hide bucky from in your car after the fight with the flag smashers.

have you ever been in love? ∣∣ bucky plays truth or dare with the avengers but this mind wanders somewhere else. what happens when he finds out the truth?

in other words ∣∣ you like singing to bucky.

marshmallows ∣∣ you and bucky can't sleep so you decide to do smth else.

you are soo handsome! ∣∣ you see 40s bucky at the museum.

heart-shaped * ∣∣ you buy a sexy pair of jeans to get bucky's attention.

little spoon ∣∣ you are not used to being a little spoon but bucky is here to change that.

taste of love ∣∣ bucky is not ready to tell how much he loves you but he finds another way to say it.

when? * ∣∣ you finally get what you want.

red ∣∣ bucky calms you after a nightmare.

coming home kiss ∣∣ a prank doesn't go well.

home * ∣∣ bucky needs to feel you after being away on a mission.

lemon cake ∣∣ bucky comes home after surviving the war.

cat bell ∣∣ bucky, steve and natasha go to investigate when classified information is stolen from S.H.I.E.L.D. little did bucky know it wasn't an ordinary file stealing...

prelude no.15 raindrop ∣∣ cuddling with bucky while he plays the piano on a rainy day.

the least ∣∣ you take care of bucky after a mission.

hidden lock ∣∣ you gave everything to protect bucky but he ended up leaving you anyway. what happens when years later you found yourself being drawn to him again...

only you for me ∣∣ after being tortured by hydra, you are felt blind trying to cope with your life... what happens later?

hold back ∣∣ you push bucky away until you can't anymore...

scream ∣∣ during a mission, bucky has to turn into the winter soldier again but when he turns back he finds his hands bloody.

tiptoes ∣∣ reader goes to the compound's swimming pool at night but what happens when she gets a surprising encounter?

wood cabin ∣∣ you move to live a peaceful life in the woods but your neighbor turns out to be a hottie you can't resist...

tokens ∣∣ you come back with a gift but your kids get to it before you have given it to him. now he has to explain to them the sex tokens... in a kids way...

'little' touch * ∣∣ reader loves to be touchy with her favorite super soldier

[harryspet]

his to claim | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader, a/b/o dynamics, werewolf au, fury!reader, monica is a fury too, sam wilson x monica, virgin!innocent!reader, hint of ddlg dynamic, noncon sex, noncon marking, soulmates au, oral sex (female recieving), kidnapping

A/N: enjoy this long (long for me at least) one-shot! 

In which you befriend a lonely Alpha.

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything​ @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011​ @visintaes​  @watercoolerpaint​ @disaster-rose​ @slutforsebstan

main masterlist

word count: 5.8k 

Sam knew Bucky was in one of his moods. One of his moods where he’d disappear for five days, not give a clue to where he was going, and return covered in blood. Although Bucky’s closest friend and Beta to his pack, Sam, was getting married this week, Bucky was stuck in his ways. Bucky knew that a wedding meant that another pack would be invading his land, filling the pack house with strangers, and two packs meant there would be two Alphas. Although he respected Alpha Fury, Bucky wasn’t the type to get along nicely with others, especially other Alphas. 

It was one in the morning when the white wolf passed through the tree line, the packhouse coming into view. The three-story cabin fit many of the high-ranking families and was the center of most pack activities. Meetings, gatherings, and celebrations for the Winter’s Shield pack were all held here. 

Bucky shifted, each one of his bones cracking roughly back into place as if they’d forgotten they were half-human. As he expected, there was a pair of shorts waiting for him on the porch. Nat always hated when he’d show up naked in the middle of the night. This is my house, he’d say. Save it for your mate, she’d say back. Bucky would always scoff at that. Not many Alphas make it to their thirties without a mate and Bucky was quite willing to keep his single streak going. 

The house was heated, comforting him after losing the warmth of his coat. Still, he was covered in elk blood and could use a shower along with a twelve-hour nap. He walked towards the winding stairs, only to hear rumbling in the kitchen, and deciding to investigate. He was the only night owl around here, or at least that’s what he thought. 

He could already smell that there were foreigners around and prayed this week would go by fast. Flicking on the kitchen light, he found you sitting on the island counter. You looked up from your carton of chocolate ice cream with wide eyes. He expected you to freak out at the sight of him but it seemed you were more embarrassed on your behalf rather than frightened. 

“Sorry … I was just gonna have one bowl and then that turned into two. And then  …” You emphasized the spoon that was sitting in the mostly eaten carton. Omega, his wolf said. There was a strange omega sitting on his kitchen counter in oversized pajamas and hair rollers. His eyes fell to something sitting behind her which she instantly pushed further behind her back in panic, “There’s a little left if you want some.”

“Who are you?” Bucky asked, a little more harshly than he intended. 

“Y/N,” You answered, a bit flustered, “I’m Monica’s sister … also her maid of honor. I know there isn’t usually a maid of honor in our wedding ceremonies but there’s always a maid of honor in the movies. I’m gonna throw her such a cool bachelorette party, Natasha said we could have it in the living room-”

Bucky felt suffocated by your excitement. Feeling overwhelmed by the bright lights and whatever his wolf was feeling for you, he said, “Stop,” He raised a hand, confused by your comfortableness with the situation. You talked to him, an Alpha, so casually and you didn’t seem at all frightened by his bloody appearance,  “Do you know who I am?”’

“Alpha Barnes,” You hopped down from the counter, making sure to keep whatever you were hiding behind your back, “Sam said you’d be back at some point. They made a bet on whether or not you’d get back before or after my dad left. Everyone said you’d skip the wedding.” 

Alpha Fury’s second daughter. An Omega. An annoying, little, ice-cream stealing Omega. 

“Well here I am,” Bucky stepped closer to you and was surprised when you didn’t even blink at that. An omega raised by an Alpha, you were something Bucky had never encountered, “Why are you raiding my kitchen so late at night, Omega.”

There was a flash of sadness in your eyes, “I had a nightmare … ice cream always makes me feel better. You ever get nightmares, Alpha Barnes?” Bucky’s brows furrowed. 

“No,” Bucky spoke coldy, confused about what was pulling him closer to you. 

“Nuh-uh, no way,” Bucky thought you were challenging him but there was an innocent smile on your face, “My Dad said you’ve fought in lots of battles, challenged a lot of other Alphas, you must see a lot of terrible stuff. You never even get a little bit scared?”

Bucky ignored your pressing question, the look on his face frustrated, “What’s behind your back?”

“Uhm … what’s behind yours?” You tried distracting him but Bucky knew there was nothing behind him. 

“Show me,” He commanded, knowing that Omega inside of you wouldn’t want to disobey him. 

You huffed. 

Stupid alphas, Bucky heard your voice but your lips didn’t move. 

You pulled an old, stuffed bear from behind your back, “It’s Mr. Cuddlebear …. he also helps with the nightmares,” In his eyes, you were definitely too old to have a stuffed animal but his wolf found it endearing. He hated that, “You never got scared even when you were a little? No monsters under the bed? Boogeyman in the closet?”

“It’s late,” Bucky changed the subject, “I’m sure we have a long week ahead of us. I’d take … that-”

“Mr. Cuddlebear,” You interrupted, reminding him of your teddy bear’s name. 

“Go to bed, little wolf.”

Stupid Alpha voice. 

You rolled your eyes as your feet began to move before your brain began to register, “Goodnight, Alpha Barnes,” You left the kitchen, carrying the teddy bear with you, “Sleep tight, don’t let the vampires bite.” He heard your little giggle as you climbed up the stairs. 

Bucky placed his hands on the counter, staring at the ice cream. Did he ever have nightmares? No one had ever asked him that before. 

Bucky cleaned up nice, you thought as you looked at him across the room. No one expected him to even come, let alone put on a nice suit jacket. The rehearsal dinner was loud with both Winter’s Shield and the Daystar pack mingling together for the first time. Sam seemed to be having the time of his life, your father was being much lighter than usual, and Monica was …. well, Monica. 

You were talking with a bunch of people, giving out the sugar cookies you’d made when you made eye contact with him. He drank from his glass of wine and you noticed he was standing with Sam and Monica. She was in the prettiest yellow dress and you could tell Sam was happy to find a mate so beautiful. 

You’d looked away, focusing on meeting everyone when Monica started to walk towards you. 

“Stay away from him, please,” She stepped in front of you.

“Stay away from who?”

“Alpha Barnes,” She spoke lowly. 

“He’ll be your Alpha soon, you know.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“I already met him, Monica,” You smiled, “He was nice to me in like a weird, cold way.”

She shook her head, your words seeming to worry her more, “That’s what I’m worried about,” She grabbed your hand, leading you away to one of the tables in the corner. You had a plate of sugar cookies in your hands, some you’d made especially for the party to give out, “You have a tendency to make people like you but you don’t want him to like you, trust me. All that stuff Daddy taught us still stands, it doesn’t matter that we know him now. So just sit here, and do nothing, please.”

“But what about my cookies? I have to give them out!” You whined as she fenced you in, forcing you to sit down.

“I’ll do it,” She smiled, taking the plate from your hands, “You’ve socialized enough I think so just … relax.”

“But-” She was already walking away. You loved your sister, she was your best friend, but she was still a Beta. She had no idea what it was like to be you, surrounded by jerks who thought they were better than you. Maybe that’s why you liked talking with people so much, to prove that maybe you were more fragile than them but you weren’t invisible. Right now, you felt invisible. 

You could only watch everyone have fun without you for so long and you got out of the seat about ten minutes later. You left the large white tent, where it was much cooler, and you didn’t mind being alone as much. 

You told yourself to cheer up, trying not to frown. A week from now, you’ll be home, you’ll be on house arrest again but without Monica. You were going to savor this small vacation no matter the obstacles. 

Bucky found you outside sitting in the grass as you stared up at the moon. He got that feeling again, his wolf wanting to be closer to yours, and wished he felt differently. You looked back at him as you felt him approaching, and you heard Monica’s voice in your head telling you to stay away. 

“Did you try my cookies?” Your lips pulled into a smile that, like everything about you, confused him. 

“I didn’t … I watched Sam eat six of them though,” The tall Alpha responded, sticking his hands into his pants pocket. 

“Watching your perfect, Alpha-physique?”

Bucky actually felt the need to smile though he kept himself controlled, “Something of that nature, yes.”

“Awe, a few cookies won’t hurt,” You stood up from the ground, dusting off your dress. Bucky noticed your mary jane’s and the little butterfly clips in your curls, “Let me guess, you only prey on innocent animals.”

The Alpha smirked, “I’ll make sure to try your cookies next time, little wolf.”

“Sadly, there won’t be a next time,” You stepped past him and he followed after you, as you walked towards the tree line, “My father will probably find me a mate that lives across the country so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Both Monica and Fury wanted to make it clear to him that you were practically claimed. You didn’t know yet but Peter Parker of the Stark pack was waiting for you. Fury was planning a quick, summer wedding, “I can’t imagine the poor fool who will have to deal with your kitchen raids and Mr. Cuddlebear.”

You grinned, “You remembered his name?” Bucky remembered and he’d been watching you ever since that late night, “I thought you might laugh at me, Monica does.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment and, as you looked at him, it seemed that his mind was racing with thoughts, “I’ve had nightmares before,” He stated and you waited for him to elaborate. 

“What happened in them?” You prodded softly. 

Another long pause, “When was the last time you shifted?”

You figured that’s all you were going to get out of him. You thought for a moment, “I can’t even remember. Not since the winter solstice at least.”

“Let’s go on a run,” Bucky said, not waiting for you to agree. He picked up his pace, walking past the tree line and expecting you to follow. You hurried after him, your heart suddenly beginning to pound in your chest. 

“Alpha Bucky, Monica will kill me. Literally. She threw a hairdryer at me once,” You said, sounding panicked, though you got deeper and deeper into the woods, “And what about my dress?”

He turned around suddenly and you almost ran into his broad chest, “Take it off,” He ordered. Your hand instinctively reached up to the strap and you panicked, “Go behind a tree, I mean.”

“But Monica-”

“You’re an adult, right?”

You shrugged, “I try to be-”

“Then you can decide. Besides that, I’ll be Monica’s Alpha soon enough.”

You imagined her throwing a fit but you still conceded, walking to find a tree to hide behind, “It might take me a second, I think I’m a shy shifter.”

“Take your time, little wolf,” His words were more comforting than you expected. 

You stripped from your clothes behind the tree, trying not to imagine what Monica would think of you. An unmated female getting naked in the forest with an unmated male in the middle of the forest? There were all types of moral codes you had to be breaking. 

Standing in the cold, you shut your eyes tightly. Monica taught you the counting method when you were younger. You tried to tune out the rest of your thoughts, focusing on the nature around you, as you counted down from ten over and over again. It was instinct after that, the Moon Goddess taking over and unleashing your inner wolf. You didn’t feel the pain as your bones molded into their new positions and you became the second version of yourself. 

When you stepped from behind the tree, the white wolf was towering over your small, grey figure. 

His head tilted down towards you and you could already tell his wolf wanted to be more friendly with you than his human self. He smelled you, biting at your neck but you were even more playful in wolf form. You walked between his legs, confusing him, until you ran in the opposite direction. He chased after you and you didn’t expect to outrun him but you planned to give him a run for his money. 

He couldn’t sleep with you so close by. He tried going on another run to clear his head but his mind was full with you. He’d lived a long life yet this feeling in his soul was brand new. Never had Bucky desired anyone to be anything but a casual fling. His wolf wanted more than to just conquer you which was territory Bucky found hard to navigate. What would it say for his legacy if he took an Omega as his mate? How empty would he feel if he let you go tomorrow? What relationships would he throw away in order to claim you as his?

Covered in sweat, he pulled the sheets from his body, sitting up in his bed. 

Nightmare, his wolf echoed in his mind. Bucky rubbed his temples. That wasn’t a nightmare to him, he was just an overthinking mess. He was going to ignore that feeling until he sensed something was truly wrong. 

She dreams of pain and suffering.  

Go to her. 

Bucky stood up from his bed, filing out of his room, and down the long hallways of the packhouse. He pressed his ear to your door, his hand lightly touching the doorknob. He heard soft whimpers from the inside and, for a moment, he resisted you. He would turn around and try to go back to sleep. Instead, his wolf took control. 

Bucky opened the door, your whimpering continuing and you stirred although it wasn’t because of him. He closed the door gently, moving towards your bed, crossing a boundary that he was sure would be frowned upon. Your cheeks were stained with tears and you seemed to be grabbing Mr. Cuddlebear for dear life. 

He sat carefully at the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch you, “Y/N,” He whispered, trying to suppress the anger that he felt over the pain you were in. 

“No, no,” You whispered over and over again. 

“Little wolf,” He whispered again, his hand on your arm. The Alpha’s touch startled you out of your sleep and your eyes were wide with fear as you came back to consciousness. You weren’t sure why he was in your room or why your nightmares were getting so bad, “It’s just a bad dream-”

You sat up from your position and wrapped your arms around the Alpha. He seemed to freeze at your touch but you hugged him tighter for comfort. He wrapped his arms around you, his hand tentatively rubbing at your back and you heavily breathed against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I just … you were crying.”

“I-I woke you up?”

“No,” Bucky lied, “I was just walking by and I heard you.”

“Alpha Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Everything’s going to change tomorrow. My wolf, she senses something bad coming, and she’s scared.”

Bucky stiffened again, his wolf beginning to worry.  “Something bad? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know but the dreams are getting worse.”

“What do you see in your dreams?”

“I’m … I’m walking in his field, there’s so much sunshine and flowers a-and I’m walking towards the sun. I’m walking and walking and I’m happy and then I just start to sink into the ground. And I’m drowning and it feels like someone is holding me, pulling down further and further. I can’t breathe and there’s just this darkness a-and I-I-”

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you, sensing you were about to hyperventilate,  “It’s okay. Nothing is going to take you away. No one, do you understand?”

He felt you nodding and he grabbed you tighter, deciding he was going to hold you for as long as you needed him to. 

“I didn’t tell you because of this reason-”

The pen in Bucky’s hand snapped in half and his fists balled up tightly, “Sam, today is your wedding, I understand that but this is my territory. I decide who comes in and out of it. That’s final.”

“They’re already here-”

“Then send them away. Fury is trying to push me and this is the final straw.”

“He’s already married the first daughter off, he’s just trying to do the same with Y/N. And he knows that this is a chance for three alphas to sit down and discuss what we’re going to do about the rogue situation.”

Feeling that he was drawing blood from clenching his fist so hard, he moved them under his desk.  “I can handle problems that concern my own pack. Tony is even more arrogant than Fury, we’ll never agree.”

“You have to at least try, Alpha,” Sam sighed, “You haven’t found one woman you’d consider having little Buckys with. Maybe Stark will bring someone that will pique your interest?”

Bucky ignored him, “When Stark arrives-” Sam let out a triumphant cheer, “-Bring him and Fury to my office. I won’t need you here, I’m sure you’ll have much to prepare for this evening.”

“You won't regret this.”

Bucky followed Peter’s line of sight. There you were, standing in a beautiful periwinkle dress, waiting for your sister to walk down the aisle and join an anxious Sam. The birds were singing, a violin was being played, and everyone was collectively ready to celebrate the joyous moment. Everyone except Bucky.

Of course, Peter wanted to look at you, a beautiful creature, an unmated female, he'd be lucky to call you his mate. He was young like you, he'd be able to get all your references, keep up with your energetic ramblings, you'd get to go far away from your father and you'd be so happy. You'd forget all about Monica. You’d forget all about the week you spend in Winter’s Shield. 

The wedding went off without a hitch and Bucky watched you have the time of your life. Peter targeted you, of course, that was the entire reason was her, to woo you and it was working. You were dancing together, laughing when Peter made a silly misstep.

Bucky shooed away every Stark girl who tried to approach him, even denying a Beta, until he was standing alone in the corner. 

The festivities calmed down late into the night, you had to say goodbye to Peter, Monica was whisked away to a “private cabin” and everyone else returned to their rooms. Your father reminded you to pack your things as you’d be leaving early in the morning. 

Looking at Mr. Cuddlebear sitting on your bed, you were reminded of the events of last night. You didn’t expect so much kindness from the cold Alpha but, as Monica warned you, he seemed to like you. You still thought she was being dramatic with her warning and that she would grow to like her new Alpha. 

You never did really get to thank him and he also never tried your cookies. You had an amazing idea and late-night baking always led to amazing things. 

Bucky was pacing the length of his room when there was a knock at his door. His wolf knew instantly that it was with you like the Moon Goddess had answered his prayers. He was fighting every natural urge in his body and he planned to hide away until everyone was gone tomorrow. Now, he had no idea what he was going to do. 

When Bucky opened the door, you were standing with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, and a kind smile on your face, “A thank you for last night,” You offered, “I figured you’d like a plain chocolate chip cookie. I’m not sure though-”

“Come in,” Bucky said quickly, closing the door behind you. You noted that he was still wearing his dress pants though he was only wearing a sleeveless undershirt at his top. Though you’d seen him shirtless before, this time felt more intimate. 

“Try one,” You insisted, “Please.”

Bucky was hesitant, his diet not usually including such human pleasures, but he was quite surprised with the first bite. You seemed nervous, expecting a good reaction which Bucky found adorable, “They’re good,” Bucky nodded, “I mean, they’re great. Here, come sit down.”

As you took a seat on the edge of the giant bed, Bucky grabbed the glass and plate from your hands, moving to set it on the nightstand, “Your room is … big.”

You grew a bit nervous as the bed dipped beside you and Bucky took a seat. You always felt his strong energy, even last night, but now it was a bit overpowering. You blamed it on the approaching full moon and tried to ignore it, “You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I like it. It’s … simple,” Bucky tried his best to register your mood. Were you nervous? That was the last feeling he expected to feel from you. You were always rambling or talking about something you were annoyingly passionate about. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, his head turned to you. 

You didn’t answer him, “What do you know about the Stark pack?”

Bucky’s hands folded together and his jaw clenched as reality set in, “I sense you know of your father’s plans.”

“I had a suspicion,” You sighed.

“And … you’re unhappy with his decision?” 

You were quiet for a moment, “What if it isn’t a good idea?”

“I’m sure … I’m sure your father wouldn’t lead you astray. The man infuriates me but he’s usually quite wise …”

“You’re right …” You said, staring back at the Alpha who seemed to be experiencing a whirlwind of emotions behind his eyes, “My nightmares, they just make me nervous for the future-”

“You could stay,” Bucky stated quickly, sure of himself. His hand touched your thigh and your eyes began to widen, “With me, I mean. And, of course, Monica would be here too.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “You don’t mean … I’m an Omega, Alpha Bucky.”

A thin smile pulled at his lips, “I’ve noticed that, yes. Believe me, my offer does not come from a place of ignorance. I’ve been thinking about this, I promise, and it could be good for both of us. You could stay near your sister and I could …”

It took everything in you to push away from that bed, “My Dad would be livid. Beyond livid, actually. And Peter. The treaty. It would throw everything off balance, Alpha Bucky.” He stood, his shadow draping over you as you took a hesitant step back. 

“Who needs balance if there is a connection here. My wolf feels yours, they’re drawn to each other, I know you can sense that.”

“Bucky-”

“Listen, little wolf, please,” He insisted, stepping closer, “I’ve never been sure before, not in my entire life. This, I am sure about.”

You shook your head, “Well, I am not,” Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken, “I like you and there’s a connection, yes, but as my father’s daughter, I have responsibilities. I respect him too much to go behind his back. You have to understand that.” 

“You came here tonight. That night in the forest. You didn’t know it but you called me to your room last night. What am I supposed to make of your advances-”

“Advances? I thought you were a friend-”

“Stop,” He commanded, leaving your body frigid from the power of his voice, “Don’t move.”

He took your face into his hands and you whimpered, “Bucky, I gave you the wrong impression.”

“No, you may not know it yet but this is what your wolf wants. We’re animals, underneath it all, and there’s only so much we can control our own desires,” You pushed against his chest when he smashed his lips on yours. You bit down on your bottom lip, wishing your feet would push you further away from him. When he pulled away, he was grinning, blood on his lips, “Biting, huh? I’m happy to play along with your game.”

You opened your mouth but he was too quick, “Don’t scream, little wolf. The screaming is the next part.”

His hands move to your waist, pulling you into his muscular body. He kissed you again, kissing the sides of your mouth and chin.  Your hands pulled into small fists as he held you, his touch sending foreign feelings through your body. You felt an overwhelming warmth, more than his body heat, but the warmth of the bond his own wolf felt for yours. His mouth met with your neck and that's when your lips parted and moans escaped your lips. 

“Please,” Was all you could manage. “Please stop.”

Your mouth was saying one thing but it was clear to him that you enjoyed his touch, “Don’t think of me like the bad guy, Omega. When I’m your Alpha, I won’t be like Fury. I’ll let you be who you are, you won’t be just an object to pawn off for power. You’ll be my Omega but you’ll stand beside me, not behind. You’ll be happy with me. I can take the nightmares aways, remember?”

“No, no,” You resisted, knowing deep down that he was that darkness in your dream. You were right to be scared but you hadn’t suspected that you should be scared of me, “M-My father will challenge you a-and you’ll lose any respect you once had.”

He grabbed you roughly by your chin, his forehead pressed against yours as he held your body, “I’ve never cared much for puritanical pack society … why should I care now, Omega?”

You sniffled, “Because you care about me?”

“You’re young, little wolf. I don’t expect you to fully understand but it's because I care that I have to do this. It will only hurt for a little while, okay?” He wasn’t asking for permission and as he pulled his face from yours, his eyes went black, and you were already screaming as his sharp canines protruded from his mouth. 

He pulled your head to the side, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. As you collapsed, he kept you in his arms, and you both went down to your knees. It was an indescribable pain, paralyzing, until it wasn’t. Your vision blurred as it felt like the strongest drug rushed through your body. It was not the way you imagined you’d be marked, you surely weren’t in love, and the man who’d claimed you was unhinged. 

As you slipped into the darkness, you heard someone screaming your name. You felt a little hope that you’d be saved but you couldn’t hold on longer. 

You grabbed your shoulder instantly as your eyes shot open, roughly pulling yourself from slumber. You winced, your hand running over the bandaged skin, as you realized the magnitude of the situation. Taking a moment to look around your surroundings, you found that you were somewhere that you didn’t recognize. 

It was a small, one-room cabin, the living room, kitchen and the bed you were on were all in the same room. A tear slipped down your face as you threw your legs over the side of the bed. Your legs were bare, your bridesmaid dress gone, and a large t-shirt was the only thing that you were wearing. He’d undressed you all the way and had no problem with it, probably due to the fact that he’d bonded you together for life. 

He’d even made sure to bring Mr. Cuddlebear along though you weren’t sure anything could calm you now. 

As you were about to push yourself off the bed, the cabin door opened, and a shirtless, freshly-shifted Bucky appeared. He took one look at you and his jaw clenched. 

“W-Where are we?”

“Couple miles off of my territory,” He stated, shutting the door and walking to the kitchen. As he turned his back, you got up from the bed, moving cautiously towards the fireplace which was closer to the door, “So no one can bother us.”

“My Father, where is he? How did you … without him knowing …” 

He reached into the cabinet, grabbing a glass to fill with tap water. You were eyeing the door, wondering if he was just pretending to be distracted by his task, “Oh, he knew,” Bucky chuckled, “He was livid, like you said, but he couldn’t do anything. He can’t touch you anymore now that you’re bitten. No one can.”

Your face fell, “But-” Bucky turned around and it hit you. The bite reshaped your chemistry and now any Alpha wouldn’t be able to get near you until you were fully mated. Alpha Fury wasn’t coming for you. 

But Monica-

“Monica isn’t coming either, little wolf. Remember, I’m her Alpha now too,” Bucky moved forward, the glass in hand, “You should drink, you lost a good amount of blood.”

You stepped to the side, moving away as he approached, “You knew you’d only hurt me, even when I thought you were my friend.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he moved closer, “I know that’s how you feel now-” You climbed onto the couch and over it as he moved closer, “Y/N, come here. Now.” You eyed the door, now closer to it than he was. 

“You’re a monster.”

“Little mate, if you continue to not listen to me, I’m going to come over there, throw you over my shoulder, and tie you down to that bed for the next few days because that's just the type of mood I’m in right now.”

“I’ll never. Be. Your mate-”

 The sound of breaking glass made you jump and you watched the cup crumble in his grasp. Almost falling, you made a sprint for the door. As soon as you’d gotten it open, a hand was above you, slamming it closed. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back towards the bed. 

He pushed you down onto it, making sure not to put any pressure on your bite, before climbing on top of you. He pinned down your kicking legs, saying, “You’ll hurt yourself, little mate,” He tried to console you, shushing you as you began to whimper, “Please don’t fight it anymore…” But you panicked even more as he lifted your shirt. 

He gripped your thighs tightly, pulling your exposed sex to his mouth. One hand you could barely move because of the bite, the other gripped the comforter tightly, as he kissed between your thighs. Of course you’d never been touched so Bucky would be as gentle as he could manage. He also knew that your new bite would heighten every feeling he gave you and it wasn’t long before you’d be a mewling mess. 

You thought that maybe you’d gone into heat, that’s why his touch felt so good, but you were very wrong. You could only imagine what it would feel like when your body craved to be pregnant. He cooled your fire, and within thirty seconds you were already having your first orgasm. He kept his mouth on you as you rode out the pleasure, not letting you take any breaks as he began to kiss up your body, moving the shirt further and further up your body. 

He kissed over your mark which sent waves of pleasure through you, making him growl, “You’re mine, little mate,” Then he kissed your lips as you moaned against them. As he positioned himself between your legs, you knew what was coming. 

“Bucky, please. I-I’m scared.”

“It’ll hurt just for a little while,” He assured you, reaching above you to grab Mr. Cuddlebear, “Hold on to your bear, little wolf.”

You held the stuffed bear tightly against your chest as he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel how big he was even as you tried to avoid eye contact with him. Looking away didn’t last long as he grabbed your chin, making sure he could see your face as he slid each inch inside of you. He stretched you open, taking the air from your lungs, as you tried to adjust to the feeling. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” He grunted, leaning down to kiss your chin. He’d slowly pull in and out of you, letting you get used to him. He kissed over your mark again, easing the pain, and turning your whimpers into moans, “Good girl, my good girl.”

“Please,” You started to wish for him to push you over the edge, to give you another orgasm, not for him to let you go. He kissed you, using his hand to rub your sensitive bulb as he pushed in and out of you, “Please, please - ah!”

Your back arched and your senses were delighted as an orgasm ripped through you. He didn’t slow, speeding up his pace, as he went back to kissing over your bite. He reached below you, pulling you further down onto his member. He was animalistic, every natural instinct in his body telling him to pleasure you until you couldn’t walk anymore and to round your belly. 

You came again, this time at the same time as him, your bodies melting together as he released within you. As he laid against you, catching his breath, you could see the setting sun shining through the window. He wasn’t anything like you feared and maybe that's why you trusted him so easily.

“You’ll be happy with me one day, I promise,” He kissed your wet cheeks. 

Part of you hoped you could trust him again because, after all, that mark was forever.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 20 - Final Warning [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone has a past.

Series Masterlist

Not that you had ever been in a situation where you wanted to come clean to a target and blow your own cover, but you could easily say that this was one of the hardest things you had ever been through.

And considering your career, you had been through a lot.

You had no idea how to even begin the conversation, and you were pretty sure that it would completely ruin every chance of happiness you would have with him, every chance of a future together but—

You had to keep him safe. You owed him that much.

Considering your whole relationship had been nothing but a lie.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called and you looked up, still holding the empty milkshake container.

“Yes?”

“Your boyfriend is here with the Captain America,” Tara winked at you, “Is he single?”

“Sam?”

“No Y/N, I’m trying to steal your man but letting you know beforehand. Yes, Sam!”

“Um—“ you tried to pull your thoughts together, “I’m not sure, I can ask.”

“Don’t make it obvious though,” she pointed at you and walked away. You let out a sigh, looking down at the empty container, then fixed your apron and walked out of the kitchen into the main area. You could feel the warmth in your stomach as soon as you saw Bucky and Sam in one of the booths, and you went under the counter to approach them.

“Hi darling.”

“Hey,” you pecked him on the lips and sat beside him, “Hi Sam.”

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted you as Bucky entwined his fingers with yours, “Anyways, as I was saying. I can look into her but unless you give me more information, we’ll hit a dead end.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked between them and Bucky thought for a moment.

“Maybe Sharon might help.”

“I mean she can try—“

“Who are you talking about?” you asked and Sam grinned.

“Bucky’s spy friend.”

“She’s not my friend,” he said almost instantly and your stomach dropped.

“O-oh?”

“I just want to learn who she works for,” he said, “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” you managed to ask and Bucky shifted his weight like he was uncomfortable.

“In case we need it.”

“But why would you need it?”

To that, he looked like he had no answer and Sam cleared his throat, grabbing his phone.

“Well, I’d better talk to Sharon,” he said, standing up from his seat, “To see what we can find. I’ll see you guys later.”

With that, he walked out of the shop and you turned to Bucky, your brows raised.

“So,” you said, “What’s happening?”

“No what you’re thinking right now,” he said quickly, “It’s just… I ran into her. Again.”

You actually wanted to find out how much information he would give you, so you decided to push.

“Oh? I didn’t know you went on a mission.”

“I didn’t, she broke into my house.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him as if you were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I have no idea how she knows where I live, but—“

“She was in your apartment.”

“For like five minutes,” he added, “And she….she told me something.”

If he kept this up, maybe you had a chance to convince him to leave the country for a while by using your cover even if you couldn’t convince him by being yourself.

“What?” you asked him and he paused for a moment, then shook his head.

“It’s not important.”

Fuck.

“It sounds like it is,” you tried again and he cleared his throat.

“Nah it’s just…. Usual secretive spy stuff.”

“But are you safe?” you insisted and he smiled, pressing your hand to his lips, his fingers still entwined with his.

“Of course darling.”

No. No you’re not safe.

You bit inside your cheek, trying to find something, anything to tip him off without blowing your cover but you came up empty except for one thing.

You had to tell him. You had no idea how you would do it, and you had no idea how he would react but you couldn’t—

You couldn’t just sit there and let them take him and blame him for things he quite possibly hadn’t done. Knowing the General, he would pull every trick in the game to convince your superiors that he was dangerous.

And Bucky was one of the very few people you knew who didn’t deserve that.

But how could you do it? You knew it would mean losing him, you were quite sure that he would never trust you again, nor would he ever want to see you again. Not only that, but if the General found out anything about you tipping him off, you would be killed, that was for sure.

As he always said, actions had consequences.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said with a chuckle, snapping you out of your thoughts, “I promise you, everything will be alright.”

For some reason, you were having a hard time believing it but you tried to smile, then leaned in to kiss him.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Of course it will.”

                                                ***

By the time you were done at work, you were way too tired but it had nothing to do with the goddamn milkshake shop. You half wished you could ask Keith or Chloe about what to do, but you decided you actually needed to come up with a plan before getting them involved.

If you were going to get them involved, you had to make sure they would be safe even if you wouldn’t be, but it didn’t mean the lack of plan at hand wasn’t making you panic. Even the mind blowing sex wasn’t enough to put you to sleep, not when you kept thinking about how it would end soon.

Either way, you were going to lose him.

The thought of it made the tears burn your eyes but you rolled over in bed and looked down at him. He looked so peaceful without nightmares torturing his sleep and you sniffled before leaning in to press your lips into his dark hair, inhaling his scent. He moved a little, letting out a content sigh and you pulled back to grab your dressing gown, then made your way to the kitchen as silently as possible. After grabbing the wine bottle, you went to the bathroom to get in the bathtub, the cold surface against your warm skin giving you goosebumps.

You were being so stupid. Even more stupid than a Victorian lady risking it all for dick.

You cussed under your breath and took a huge swig of the wine, leaning your head back, desperately trying to find an idea to help you get out of this thing unscathed.

Or not to break his heart in the process.

By the time you had finished the bottle, you were still clueless but alcohol was slowly taking away the panic pulsing through you. You kept your eyes on the wall, tracing the rim of the bottle and only when Bucky knocked on the door that you realized he was awake.

Wow, the spy in you would be so disappointed if it were any other time.

“Darling?”

“Hey,” you called out, “You can come in.”

He opened the door and his brows furrowed as soon as he saw you in the bathtub holding a wine bottle.

“Hey,” he said, “Everything alright?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked up at him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said and approached you to crouch down, “Nightmares?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, still holding the bottle tight, “What time is it?”

“3 a.m.”

You heaved a sigh and he reached out to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly and that made the burning in your eyes even worse, but you cleared your throat and shook your head.

“Did you know….” You trailed off, waving the empty bottle, “In some cultures people drink at funerals?”

“Nope,” he said, “I didn’t. Whose funeral is it then?”

“Mine I think.”

He tilted his head, stealing a look at the bottle before smiling at you softly. You were aware that he thought it was just the wine and nightmares speaking, and you were way too tired to let him know, to explain-

To lose whatever it was between you.

“You’re not dead, sweetheart.”

“Not yet,” you managed to say, and he took a deep breath.

“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice low as if the thought was too much for him to handle and you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Do you want to come back to bed?”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes.

“Okay,” Bucky said, “Is it okay if I stay here then?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, turning the bottle in your hands. His fingers caressed over your hair and the action was so soothing that for a moment you felt yourself getting lost in the feeling before you turned your head to look into his blue eyes.

“Do you think that—“ you paused for a moment, “Do you think we could have a happy ending?”

“A happy ending?” he repeated, confusion flashing over his features and you licked your lips.

“Yeah, do you think….Do you think we could have that house with the red door and the big garden and the treehouse?”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Absolutely. And if I’m remembering it correctly, I was told there would be a hammock between an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“And a dog.”

“And a dog,” he repeated, “And kids.”

You could swear your heart hurt.

“I’m going to tell you something but you’re not allowed to say it back,” you said, “Not…not yet anyway. Not right now.”

He tilted his head, “Okay. What is it?”

“…I think I’m in love with you,” you admitted, your heart beating like crazy as you wiped your eyes again. A light crossed his eyes but you couldn’t even decipher what it was, instead you reached out to hold his hand, leaning your head back again.

“Why am I not allowed to say it back?” he asked and a painful smile pulled at your lips.

“Just because,” you said, “And I’m—I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked and you opened your mouth, then the fear crashed down on you so you just shrugged your shoulders.

“Can we stay like this for tonight?”

He thought for a moment, then leaned in to press a kiss on your temple.

“Of course darling,” he said, “If that’s what you want, let’s stay like this.”

                                              ***

The next morning, you woke up with a clear decision in mind.

You had to tell Bucky and you had to get him out of the country before the General could lay a hand on him. You even had a speech in mind, but in the morning Bucky had an appointment with his psychiatrist so he had left early. You didn’t have much time anyway, you had to go to the base as well but it didn’t mean you were as calm as you would like to be.

You had to make sure not to make the General suspicious of you until Bucky was out but unfortunately, you hadn’t thought about your best friends.

Keith took one look at you when he saw you, then checked whether anyone was watching you before he placed his coffee cup on the desk and grabbed your wrist to pull you into the hallway.

“What happened?”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Something happened,” he said, “Tell me and I’ll help you fix it.”

“Keith-“

“Y/N, I know you better than you think I do,” he said through his teeth, “Is your cover blown? Is Barnes suspicious of something?”

You clenched your jaw, then shook your head.

“Then what is it?” he said, “Chloe says the mission will be over soon and you’ll probably become a handler, I thought you’d be—“

“That’s the problem,” you interrupted him, “The mission will be over soon.”

Keith shrugged, “Okay. So? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Apparently not.”

He pulled his brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe Bucky doesn’t deserve to be dragged here and have shit pinned on him. Again.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds before a look of realization crossed his eyes and he ran a hand over his face.

“You’re not serious.”

“Keith—“

“That guy’s dick game can’t be that good. If you’re willing to put your life in danger just because he’s good at sex, I promise you there are a bunch of people who can fu—“

“It’s not because of that.”

“Oh it’s not? Then what is this about?”

“It’s not about anything, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Y/N, if the General finds out you’ve gone soft—“

“I haven’t gone soft!”

“You know what happens to the spies who fall for their targets,” he whispered through his teeth, “No matter how much you want to—to put this behind you, to run away with him—“

“I’m not naïve,” you spat, “I know I’d never be able to run away. This is not a fairytale, I’m not going to walk off into the sunset with Bucky. He will never forgive me or want to be with me once he learns who I am.”

“Then?”

“It doesn’t mean he deserves this,” you said, “He tries to help people, and we will make people see him as dangerous.”

He shook his head, heaving a sigh.

“He’s a good person, Keith,” you said, “Unlike you and me, he’s a good person.”

“Y/N?”

You turned your head when you heard the General’s assistant calling out your name.

“Yes?”

“He’s ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you said and took a step but Keith grabbed you by the arm.

“Don’t tell him anything,” he whispered, “We’ll—we’ll figure something out, okay? Trust me, just don’t tell the General anything.”

You bit inside your cheek and nodded.

“We can talk about it later,” you said and walked to the General’s office. He was waiting for you behind his desk and looked up from the file when he heard you come in.

“Y/N,” he said, “Hello.”

“Sir,” you greeted him and sat down on the edge of the seat. “Hello.”

“I’ve been looking over your file,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips, “And I gotta tell you, it’s….it’s very impressive.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Of all the missions we’ve put you on…” he said, “You haven’t failed. Ever.”

You felt like throwing up, but managed to smile back.

“You’ve taught me well.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’d like to take all the credit, but you and I both know it wasn’t just me, Y/N. You have a talent.”

Talent for killing and using people.

“Your father would be proud of you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, that familiar ache at your heart making you sit up straighter.

“Growing up without him was very difficult for you,” he said, “I know that. I tried to help as much as I could and trust me, you’re like a daughter to me but I also know that deep down you waited for him to come back. Always.”

You rolled your shoulders back, trying to keep your head high.

“I’m not waiting for him to come back.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not. He left me.”

He heaved a sigh and leaned in, his eyes locked into yours.

“I’m sorry you have to find out this way but your father didn’t leave you,” he said, making you frown. “The Winter Soldier killed him.”

Chapter 21

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Ok here Me out !!! What happens is The Sanes of ya choosing including S/o all Switch bodies Because of halloween magic Stuff? I think this Would be Funny .

Undertale Sans - .... WOW. Why the hell is the ground so high? He's shaking on his legs and walking awkwardly to the nearest miror. He is just so confused to be able to see his reflection, since he is very short usually, it jumpscares him far before he sees he's in his S/O body. Sans is not happy with this. He'll probably just collapsed in the couch and sleep, hoping it's all a nightmare. Well, it kinda worked. When he woke up again, two days after, he was back in his body.

Underswap Sans - He is so exciting! He doesn't have skin and muscles and he just can't stop to touch them. You are finding this very awkward, seeing your own body kissing its own biceps. You are not sure you're appreciating the experiment right now. Also, he's doing a carnage with whatever make up you have.

Underfell Sans - At first, he hated it, but then Edge complimented him on his dress, thinking it was S/O, and now he can't stop doing things to get complimented by Boss. He is like so happy... Until S/O ruined everything, screaming they are stuck inside his body and that Edge discovers the truth and gets mad at him for passing as an idiot. Nice try.

Horrortale Sans - ?????? He's looking at his own body, completely lost. He doesn't understand what he's seeing and thinks he is still asleep or something. He goes back to sleep in front of S/O and his brother, mumbling things about going crazy.

Horrorfell Sans - He has... Two arms again? Omg. He can scratch the fucking left part of his spine! FINALLY. Except it's not his spine. He is so sad. At least, he scratched his own body even if it's weird. He stopped counting all the weird things that happened to him anyway.

Swapfell Sans - LOOK AT THAT. He is T A L L. It's the best day of his life. He's tormenting S/O and Rus all day because for once, he has the body that matches his huge megalomania. He never wants to leave this body again. You're not agree. Rus either.

Outertale Sans - He is so frustrated. While you are enjoying the fact that you can fly with magic, he is stuck on the ground, forced to use his feet to walk, and he hates this. How are you doing this every day? It's so tiring!

Dancetale Sans - He's only realising it on stage. 200 people came to see him, only to watch a random guy dance on the scene. Everyone is so confused. He was even more confused when his own body came screaming and panicking on the stage to tell him to stop.

Dancefell Sans - He was about to stay in his bed, but, of course, Tango decided to record both S/O and his day to make views of their curse. Rumba is so tired with life right now.

Farmtale Sans - .... Oh well, good enough. He doesn't have time for this, he has work to do. S/O is the only one panicking, he doesn't give a fuck in the world. Not even a swap of body will stop Sam from working in his farm.

Mafiatale Sans - Wow. Walking as a total stranger in a mafia hub, what could possibly go wrong? Everyone is pointing guns at him and no one is believing his stupid story about swapping bodies. It's going to be a very long day.

Mafiafell Sans - HA HA HA. It's the best day of his life. He sends S/O works with Torpedo and he stays at home DOING NOTHING. It's his first day of vacation in years. He's enjoying every minute. S/O on the other hand is having such a bad time getting yelled at by Torpedo and eventually broke and tells him all the truth. Fangs is going to have his butt kick very hard when you will swap back.

Ink - It was fun until S/O finds how to open portals and teleports in an other world without his vials. This is fine. They will come back eventually, right? .... right?

Error - He's having a mental breakdown as he's watching his S/O accidentally erasing random objects as they try to cook. He's scared his S/O might teleports in his antivoid and stay stuck in there. He's having a panic attack.

Dustale Sans - ".... that's fine. you know it's not the worst thing that happened. i did a genocide some times ago and killed everyone in my world. it's just a bad day." Thanks for your very reassuring words, Dune. So helpful.

[themculibrary]

Domestic Stucky Masterlist

Links Last Checked: October 5th, 2023

AKA the Greater New York PTSD Support Group (ao3) - triedunture E, 12k

Summary: They've successfully completed what might be the most dangerous mission in history: the recovery of the Winter Soldier.

Now comes the recovery of Bucky Barnes, which is turning out to be even more difficult.

A story about Bucky coming back to the surface with the help of Steve, Sam, pancakes, video games, the city of New York, assorted Avengers, and beds that--really, let's be honest here--are too soft to sleep on.

And I Jumped the Tracks (ao3) - showgirlsteve M, 2k

Summary: Sometimes, Steve Rogers is Captain America, superhero and living legend. Other days, he’s just the EMT filling in for the guy on ambulance 14 who had a sudden family emergency.

Sometimes, the Winter Soldier thinks he might be Bucky Barnes. Other days, he’s content to file legal papers in Matt Murdock’s tiny office without thinking of himself by any name in particular.

Both of them are waiting for the other to come looking.

between everything, yourself, and home (ao3) - napricot E, 24k

Summary: “This is your home?” asks Bucky at one point.

“It’s where I’m living now, yeah.”

Bucky comes home. Steve's a little slower on the uptake.

Captain America and the Great Pygmalion Debacle (ao3) - Chianine E, 31k

Summary: Bucky absolutely refuses to cut his hair and for the life of him Steve can't understand why.

The reason?

There's nothing in this world Bucky loves more than having Steve brush it...

Chronicles of Super Soldier Parents (ao3) - rememberednoah G, 12k

Summary: In which Steve and Bucky adopt a little girl. In which The Avengers think the little girl is theirs as much as she's Steve's and Bucky's.

It's Only Fair When I Do It To You (ao3) - stevebuckytickles N/R, 3k

Summary: Bucky's always said he wasn't ticklish, and whenever Steve tickled him it never really worked. This time though, Steve caught him off guard. He was only a little bit wrong about how ticklish he was.

Just Hold Me (ao3) - shanology E, 10k

Summary: Bucky Barnes is living in Avengers Tower, and all he wants in the world is to be cuddled. He sets out to get his new friends to give him the snuggling he needs, because it's not something he can ask of Steve yet.

Steve doesn't see it in quite the same way.

Also, there are Avengers movie nights, possibly with a showing of The Covenant. Just saying.

miles to go before i sleep (ao3) - Avelera T, 11k

Summary: Steve finds Bucky outside of the Smithsonian and invites him home.

A hurt/comfort, wish-fulfillment sequel to "The Winter Soldier". Also contains angst because, really, how could it not?

Nothing's As Sweet As Super Soldiers In Love (ao3) - heartsdesire456 T, 12k

Summary: Informally titled: Bucky Barnes Loves The 21st Century Almost As Much As He Loves Steve Rogers

pull apart the dark (ao3) - togina T, 78k

Summary: Steve's unending faith in his best friend was beginning to look less like hope and more like fantasy. When they'd caught the Soldier – in a fire fight that still gave Sam nightmares – the only thing the man seemed to recall was how to hit exactly where it hurt.

Four months later, Barnes still refused to speak English. Refused to heed anything but Steve's voice.

So, all in all, it was not a great time for Hydra to attack New York. All in all, Sam really wished they'd just killed him, instead of turning Captain America into a baby.

Season of all things (ao3) - Claudia_flies E, 26k

Summary: Steve really isn’t sure about sharing with an Alpha but he is starting to run out of options. There are only six Omega boarding houses in the city and Steve has been kicked out of four of them.

Or: A small town a/o/b AU that nobody asked for.

Something So Precious (ao3) - steveandbucky E, 38k

Summary: Bucky Barnes has two major weaknesses: small babies and big men.

Enter Steve Rogers: tall, blonde, all-around dream hunk, and awkward single parent.

The Bucky Barnes Guide to Household Management (ao3) - CryptoHomoRocker G, 5k

Summary: “Steve doesn’t even notice at first, is the thing.”

Or: Steve is unobservant, Bucky learns to be good at things that aren’t killing people, and knitting happens.

The Company You Keep (ao3) - orbingarrow G, 51k

Summary: Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.

Too Long We Have Tarried (ao3) - kototyph G, 19k

Summary: Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

You Are My Sunshine (ao3) - StrivingForImprovement G, 2k

Summary: Follow a day in the life of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes as Steve happily delights over his day with his sunshine.

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 8

A/N: Part 8 is here lovelies! Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! 🖤🔮🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

You and Zemo had sat there in silence in the green house for quite some time, watching the rain slowly die down. And though your eyes were focused on the rain, Zemo’s would occasionally leave the windows to glance at your profile, studying the features of your face and the scar that ran down your eye. It was then he noticed that you had a few others, like the smaller ones across your nose, eyebrow, and lip. These weren’t as prominent as the long one you had, they were older and starting to fade. Your cup was already empty while you stared out the glass windows. Your thoughts still dwelled on what Zemo had said to you earlier. As the sun’s rays started to peek out over the horizon, you let out a sigh, standing up as you did so. You needed to go outside and clear your mind.

“If you’ll excuse me. I should get dressed.” You spoke before leaving the glass room, your robe and nightgown flowing behind you as you went. Zemo watched you leave before getting up, taking the tray of the empty cups with him as he decided to get himself dressed as well.

You went back to your room to take a quick shower before grabbing some clothes from your closet to pack up. You threw on a black mock neck sweater and a pair of dark charcoal grey tweed pants along with your grey plaid blazer that had a black velvet collar. You stopped at your dresser and stared down at the intricate silver metal box that was tucked away in one of the drawers. You pulled it out, your fingers tracing along the floral and vine engraving before opening it. Inside the blue velvet lined box sat a silver necklace. Pulling the necklace out, you laid the pendant in the palm of your hand, it was a little crystal ball filled with tiny stars that had a silver tetrahedron point attached to the bottom of the sphere.

Your mother Asteria had given you this. Her being the goddess of shooting stars and nighttime divination such as oneiromancy and astrology, she had made this pendant for you and filled it with her favorite stars. And engraved on the bottom silver point were the words ‘For my favorite star of all. Love, your mother.’ Your heart sank at the words. She had made you this when you were little, to help you with your nightmares and when you had trouble sleeping. All you had to do was spin the sphere and watch the tiny night sky and shooting stars that were captured in it, and soon you would be fast asleep. The only reason you hadn’t used it, was because you would see your mother in your dreams. And though she had made it where she would be there to provide words of comfort, you couldn’t bear seeing her without breaking into tears. Wiping away the tear that slipped down your cheek you decided to put the necklace on anyways, looking in the mirror as it hung delicately under your collarbone, sparkling against the light in your room.

Lacing up your black docs and throwing your hair up in a braided low bun, you went downstairs and decided to head out to the stables as your dogs followed you out. You stopped by the kitchens on your way out, grabbing a big bag of some krystállinomílos, vegetables and a variety of peppers. You grabbed a few pieces of meat and tossed some to your dogs, laughing as they chowed it down eagerly. “I’ll be back pups.” After you exited the back entrance to your home and approached the stables, a smile broke out on your face as you saw your dark dappled grey Pegasus munching on some oats. Once she saw you she neighed in excitement, jumping around in her stall and stretching out her stormy grey wings.

“Thýella!” You beamed, stroking her forehead as you nuzzled your face against hers. “O pós mou leípeis! (Oh how I’ve missed you!)” You had always admired her and had her since you were but a small child back in Olympus. Zeus had given her to you on your birthday when she was merely a foal and you had named her Thýella, which translated to tempest since she reminded you of a storm. Her muzzle was black and faded to a grey as it went up her forehead. Her mane was jet black, and her tail started as black before fading to a white. Her body was a stormy grey with lighter colored spots throughout her coat before fading into black on her legs, save for her left legs that had a bit of white near her hooves.

“Páme gia mia vólta (Let’s go for a walk).” You told her as you set up her saddle and her reins before hoisting yourself on her back. You exited the stable, strolling through the green of your land as you headed towards the bigger stable you had. Getting off Thýella, you held her reins you stepped into the larger stable. As you peered into the wooden stalls you saw your dragon, his black, maroon red, and dark magenta scales rising and falling as he slept in his stall next to the pile of trinkets he has collected. You smiled once you saw him, he was a gift from your uncle Hades and you had him since he was a wee little dragon in his egg.

You creeped closer, hiding behind his stall before jumping out and scaring him. “Kólasi!”

Kólasi jolted awake, knocking his big horned head into the side of the stall before shaking it off. He stared at you with confusion in his fiery eyes, watching you giggle like you used to when you played with him as a child. He was surprised to see you here at first before squinting his large eyes at you and letting out a disgruntled huff as he turned his head away from you with his snout pointed in the air.

“Oh come on.” You teased. “Min eísai étsi (don’t be like that).” You stepped closer to him, stretching over to look in his eyes only to make him huff again as turned away even more. “Den mou leípses? (did you not miss me?)”

Kólasi side glanced at you, giving you a considering look before nuzzling your face since he was truly happy to see you again.

“Mou leípeis polý paliós fílos (I’ve missed you too old friend).” You chuckled as you scratched his head. “Éla. as páme éxo (Come. Let’s go outside).” You led them outside in the warm sunlight before plopping down on the grass with your bag of food. Kólasi sat down behind you, allowing you to lean back on him as his head craned around to face you. He lifted his wing up above you to provide some shade while you opened up your sacks of food. You handed over the krystállinomílos to Thýella and gave the meat, vegetables, and peppers to Kólasi. You grabbed a krystállinomílo for yourself, taking a bite out of the juicy fruit as you pondered on what the three were doing right now. They were most likely having breakfast since you informed Gudrun and the others to make something for them. You then wondered what they would think once they saw Kólasi and Thýella but decided not to dwell on it any longer since you knew there was only one reaction they would have, and it definitely wasn’t a positive one.

You felt Kólasi nudge his head against you, making you look at him. “Ti eínai aftó? (What is it?)” You watched as he nodded towards the sky and a smile appeared on your face. “I knew you’d say that. Éla Thýella. As páme na petáxoume. (Come Thýella. Let’s go fly.)” You went back into Kólasi’s stall, grabbing the special saddle you had made for him before going back outside and strapping it on his back. With a grunt, you climbed into his back, and considering he was about 16 to 18 feet tall standing on all fours, he always had to lower himself for you. Once you were situated and strapped onto the saddle, you held onto his neck as he flapped his dark red wings before taking off the ground. As you turned your head to look behind you, Thýella had just caught up with you and was flying beside you, your castle became smaller and smaller the higher up you went.

A smile was on your lips as you could see everything below you, relishing in the feeling of the wind against your cheeks as you went higher and higher until you could practically touch the clouds. With a small laugh, you stuck your hand out, feeling the whispy clouds slip through your fingers as Kólasi became level with the ground. Thýella stayed beside you, neighing happily as she soared through the sky. No matter how many times you’ve done this, it never got old. After a few rounds of gliding and loops, it was time you headed back home before Sam got worried. As Kólasi began to descend towards the earth you lowered your body to his neck, the wind picking up speed against you as you dived through the clouds. The clouds around you cleared up and you could see your castle in the distance below you, getting bigger and bigger. Kólasi slowed down as he neared the earth, pulling his body up as he and Thýella landed gracefully on the grass of your backyard.

“Theé mou to échasa (gods I’ve missed that).” You breathed out, your blood pumping with adrenaline from the rush you just had.

“Y/n?” You heard Sam call out for you, which made you curse under your breath.

It was too late now.

“Y/n?” Sam rounded the corner of your home and you saw his face turn into one of terror, his mouth and eyes wide as he tried to process what he was seeing. Bucky and Zemo shortly followed and they too mirrored Sam’s expression. “Is that a dragon or am I seeing shit now?”

“This is my dragon Kólasi, Sam. You’re not going crazy.”

“So......you have a dragon and a pegasus now?” Bucky asked you as he eyed Kólasi. Kólasi towered over the three, casting a large shadow over them as he huffed out smoke from his nostrils while a low growl emitted from his chest. He didn’t recognize any of them and they didn’t seem to be a threat, but with one command from you he would readily light them up in flames. You had noticed this uneasiness in your dragon so you scratched his neck, signaling him that they were most definitely not a threat.

“I’ve had them since I was a kid.” You answered Bucky’s question as Kólasi lowered himself to the ground, allowing you to get off the saddle. Giving Kólasi and Thýella a quick pat on their sides which meant they were free to go, you watched as they wandered off a bit before heading back into your home with the three following you in.

“Y/n isn’t he dangerous? Correct me if I’m wrong but don’t dragons breathe fire?” Sam questioned.

“Yes, they do. But trust me when I say that Kólasi is harmless. Now if you guys don’t mind, I just need to get a few things.”

Sam and Bucky decided not question on it any further, trusting your word, though the thought of you having a dragon still baffled them. They’ve read stories about knights and dragons and now were wondering if dragons really did roam the earth and whether knights had really slayed them. And though Zemo knew you meant what you said about about Kólasi being harmless, he knew that wasn’t entirely true and that you understood the limits to that harmlessness. But despite that, he trusted your word, because if you were wrong about your dragon, the earth would already have burned to nothing years ago.

The men had followed you into your library/study, watching as you went over to a certain section on the wall. You reached towards a candle sconce on the wall, pulling it down slightly before there was the sound of gears turning. Then, as they looked, a book shelf began to open up like a door, revealing a narrow stone staircase that spiraled down to who knows where.

“Of course you have a hidden passageway. Why am I surprised?” Sam uttered which made you glare at him.

“You’re welcome to follow me if you’d like, or you can stay out here, if you’re scared. And don’t touch anything.” You informed before disappearing down the staircase.

The men looked at each other before following you down anyways. At this point they didn’t know what they’d expect to find down there. They were curious as to why you didn’t bother bringing a candle with you down the dark staircase, but as they went in, they soon realized why. There were already candle sconces lining the wall of the staircase, and the candles would only light up as they neared, before going out as they passed it.

Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, they found themselves in a spacious, enormous room, which you had used as an armory and a place to keep your artifacts. The walls were hung with weapons of many kinds from different eras. Armor and uniforms which you had worn from various time periods were displayed near the walls on mannequins, as well as different strange looking artifacts dating back to Ancient Egypt and the Sumerian civilization. In the center stood an open space with obstacles and devices which was where you trained in your combat. In the back of the room, down a corridor was where you had dungeons in case you ever needed them. Next to the dungeons was a laboratory, where you used to make potions and concoctions of different kinds. There were even old paintings of you from different eras, some of them were of just you, and some were of you and other people. But the biggest painting of them all hung in the middle, a painting of your whole family in Olympus. Off to the side, separate from the large room was your underground garage that opened up to your driveway. You owned a collection of many expensive classic vehicles, but the majority of them were classic muscle cars, which were always your favorites.

Bucky, Sam, and Zemo widened their eyes as they took everything in. Just when they thought they had seen everything, they had proved themselves wrong. Letting their feet guide them, they walked over to the paintings you had, staring at the large one in the center. Your father stood in the middle and above everyone else with Hera beside him and his lightning bolt clutched in his hand. On his side stood Poseidon with Amphitrite, and Hades with Persephone. Then there was you, wearing your mulberry purple chiton and deep blood/wine red chlamys with a breastplate over it. A diadem sat on your head and a dagger was strapped to your waist, while a sword and shield was held in your hands as you stood at Zeus’s feet with Athena and Artemis on either side of you. They men stared at the painting of you, you looked extremely regal yet powerful at the same time, an embodiment of a queen. The painting next to that one was of a beautiful looking women with stars in her eyes and hair, your mother. And on her lap sat you as a very young child, your eyes holding that same sparkle as your mother’s arms were wrapped gracefully around your body.

Sam glanced around the area once more before his eyes landed on a golden box that sat on a column pedestal. There was something intriguing about this certain thing and he seemed to be almost drawn to the box as he walked towards it. Bucky and Zemo noticed Sam’s slightly strange behavior, and as they looked to see what he was staring at, they too became transfixed, curious to know what the box was. As they got up close to it, they noticed there were these ghastly engravings of the macabre all over it, of tortured souls, demons, monsters, and evil spirits.

When you had walked back into the room with your bag of armor and weapons slung over your shoulder, your eyes widened at the sight of the men crowded around the gold box. Sam’s hand was reaching for it, about to open it until you screamed at them, rushing over to shove them away. “No! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

“Wha-what?” Bucky stuttered, shaking his head as he was brought out of the daze and so were the others.

“When I said don’t touch anything, I specifically meant ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING!”

“Wait, what the hell happened?” Sam asked, confusion written all over his face. Even Zemo had no idea what just occurred.

“That is Pandora’s box.”

“Pandora’s box?” Zemo tilted his head as he furrowed his brows.

“Yes Pandora’s box. Do you know what would have happened if you had succeeded in opening it?” You scolded them. “You would have unleashed all the evils into the world! There would have been complete chaos!”

“I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t know. We didn’t know.” Sam apologized, feeling guilty and terrified that he almost managed to open such a vile and dangerous little thing that had seemed so harmless at first.

“It’s fine.” You sighed. “I have what I need. Now let’s go before you guys try to touch another cursed artifact.”

Once you had your things and everything situated, you said farewell to Gudrun and Bjørn and the rest of the workers, giving them each a kiss on the cheek, their faces filled with disappointment in seeing you leave so soon. You said goodbye to Cerberus, Hecuba, Skiá, Thýella, and Kólasi as well, giving them each a hug. You sat there for a while, surrounded by your animals as they whimpered in sadness. With your final heartfelt goodbyes you left your home.

You walked over with the three trailing behind you to your 60s convertible black mustang with the white racing stripes that you had parked out front to drive to the nearest airport where Zemo’s jet would be waiting. After putting your bags and theirs in the trunk and closing it, you stared off at your home and the forest around it for one last time before your eyes caught the centaurs and satyrs that had neared the edge of the forest. You saw as they raised their hands to bid you farewell and luck on your journey, a warm smile formed on your face as you returned the gesture before hopping in the driver’s seat after the others. Making sure everyone had their seatbelts on, you turned your key in the ignition, the car rumbling to life from the sound of the engine that you always loved. Pressing your foot down on the accelerator, you drove off, watching the rear view mirror as your home got smaller and smaller the farther you drove away.

Tag List: @Little-baby-vixen @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 14

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 14

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1976

Summary: Once more, a moment at the bar shifts the relationship between Sam and the reader irrevocably. 

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w  b u r n, this section has a little gentle smut 

           It was sweet, actually, taking things slowly enough that Sam didn’t feel an acute sense of betraying Dean. You started kissing in stolen moments like teenagers, accidentally honking the horn of the Impala before taking over from the day shift and walking in shyly with swollen lips and mussed hair, tasting the orange juice off of his lips after breakfast.

           Never more than that save a fumbled glancing grope here or there, Sam sometimes having to break away for a long walk in the brisk winter air before going to sleep with you at night, you taking extended showers to deal with the building tension. He simply wasn’t ready, and the additional closeness was already so much more than you’d had anyway, almost too much stimulation to handle. Not that it really made sense to you, that this was somehow different in his mind, but it didn’t matter.

           Dean came to you in your dreams with increasing regularity. He started teaching you how to go to places you hadn’t been, or hadn’t been with him, slowly reconstructing the bar and the cabin so you could show him around your new life. Sam had been right, of course, and Dean did love the bar as you showed it to him, scuffed floors and ever-present stickiness of the cash register included.

           It felt pretty real. And who’s to say it wasn’t, because it was really Dean and it was really you, the whiskey really poured and made his lips taste peaty like they always had. More than that, it was enough. You were able to relish your time together, drink Dean in while you slept feeling less desperate knowing that you’d see him again soon. The days got easier too, waking up warm inside from Dean and outside from the firm protection of Sam’s body. Neither Winchester ever told you what they did or talked about in their time together, but Sam got looser and looser. You had almost forgotten how goofy he could be, how enthusiastic and fun he was Before Everything, but the longer he spent dreaming with Dean the more he reminded you of that guy—the affectionate, quick-witted boy you’d split cans of Spaghetti-o’s with at Bobby’s a lifetime ago.  

           Going to work felt like a little game sometimes. Periodically one of the customers would comment on the way Sam always seemed to wait until you were right in front of the fruit before going to refill it so he had to press the length of his body against yours. Often you’d have to help him finish his side work before closing up together, having hung off him all night in a way that prevented him from getting everything done until it was just the two of you together in the darkened bar cutting up limes as your shoulders brushed against each other. The regulars thought you were finally comfortable enough to show them a little PDA, that you’d been secretly like this all along, and there was no other explanation you could give them. Like everything else, you rolled with their assumptions and got that same giddy-hot feeling in your chest and throat every time they said it—like you were being teased about some juvenile crush.

           The Wednesday it finally happened you were having a normal day at work, catching those little jabs after Sam snaked a bottle opener out of your back pocket while you rattled a shaker of martinis. He kissed your hair with a smirk when he passed by you, carefully not jostling your arms as you poured the drinks into chilled glassware. When you went to refill Joe’s pint of Spotted Cow, you noticed the tap start to stutter and foam the last dregs of an empty keg and raised your head to tell Sam it was out.

           He was leaning on his elbow, ankles crossed where the long stretch of his body met the floor and talking to Jake, clearly telling some joke from the way Jake cracked up and gave him that snapping handshake men often exchange instead of hugs. The smile on his face was just smug enough to show he knew whatever he’d said was funny, and more than anything he looked relaxed, looked comfortable. Looked like he belonged there, the reflection off green glassed whiskey bottles making his eyes seem lit from within. You decided to change the beer yourself and leave him in peace; the bar was slow enough that he could handle it alone for a few minutes, limited cocktail experience or not.

           Every time you went into the basement at work to change a keg you were amazed that Sam even fit in the room where they were stored; it was back at the end of the walk-in cooler with ceilings so low even you felt claustrophobic there. Aluminum kegs in varied states of fullness stacked by their respective lines, marked by stickers and tags of indeterminate ages, were in a sort of half-organization around the walls. Based on how fast Sam changed them when one went empty, you were pretty sure he would know instinctively which ones were which, but as it was you had to climb around the makeshift aluminum jungle gym to trace each looping hose back to its source. You finally found the empty Spotted Cow and the line that would tie it to its respective tap in the corner. To get there you’d had to hop on top of two others, one foot on a fresh Bud Light and the other on some Coors while your spine curved to avoid hitting your head on the ceiling. Unfastening the tap from the empty keg, you yanked back to tug it off and slipped on some extra moisture on top of the metal. It sent you off balance enough that you grabbed at the tubing at the end of the tap you were holding in an effort to stay on your feet.

           The hose pulled out of the line system and sprayed the rest of the beer within all over the room and you, brown ale getting in your mouth and eyes and sending you careening to the ground, tugging the empty keg on top of you with a huge clatter. You rolled it off of you, thanking God it was empty, and tried not to think too hard about the age of the beer remnant mixture leeching off the cement floor into your t shirt as you got up. By the time you got back to your feet, Sam was standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath with a look of concern on his face.

           “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, surveying the scene.

           You still had the keg tap and hose in your hand, completely detached from the wall. “I was going to change the Spotted Cow but I couldn’t reach the back so I had to climb and then I…slipped.” Sam’s face smoothed in relief when he saw the smile spreading across your face. “And broke it.”

           “But you’re okay?”

           “Probably going to have a pretty kickass bruise tomorrow and I’m covered in beer but yeah, I’m okay. Sorry I pulled it out; do you know how to fix it?”

           Sam smiled, his dimples carving into his cheeks. “I’ll figure it out.”

           You pouted around your embarrassment and sheepishly handed him the tap. “I should probably get back upstairs,” you offered, shaking your wet shirt away from your body.

           “I’m, uh, I’m ready.” Sam murmured, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

           “Do you need me to go get tools or something?”

           “No—I mean, like, ready.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully and the emphasis crashed into you hard enough that it almost sent you careening back into the kegs.

           “Ready ready?” you breathed, sounding stupid and not caring, wanting to bound over and leap into Sam’s arms.

           “Ready read—” and Sam was cut off by your lips on his, taking a sharp inhale against your cheek as he kissed you. After a beat of electric shock Sam twined into the hair at the nape of your neck, his fingers hot from washing dishes and soothing in the air of the cooler. You slid down the soft flannel of his shirt and wrapped up fistfuls of it, desperate to have him closer, closer, closer, feel the firm slopes of his body when you weren’t sleeping. He groaned into you and it sent a shudder down your spine as you slipped down the edge of his jaw to kiss along the broad expanse of his neck, tendons squirming under your lips and the thrum of his blood pumping fast and hard.

           Sam moved a hand to your lower back and bent down to scoop under a hamstring, gently but swiftly lifting and spinning so you were pressed up against the doorframe by his body, hitched up in the air to better reach his face. You gasped and felt Sam’s smile against your mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist and greedily roaming the muscles in his chest as they flexed to carry you. The way the wall pinned you to Sam made it so easy to rock into him, feel the metal of his belt buckle through the worn cotton of your jeans and the heat seep through his shirt into the sticky beer drying on yours. “I—oh fuck—” Sam stammered between kisses as you rolled your hips, trying to balance the need to catch his breath with the pent-up magnetism between you. “We have—Jesus Christ, ah—there are customers upstairs,” he finally spit out.

           That zapped you back to reality, finally breaking away to press your forehead against his. “Fuck,” you moaned. A long second passed, sharing air between you and Sam as he held you suspended. “Do we care?” you murmured hopefully against closed eyes, smiling.

           Sam chuckled, breathy and low as he lowered you to the ground softly. “Unless you have another way of paying rent.”

           You gently knocked your head into Sam’s chest. “Man, couldn’t sit on that for a few more hours? How am I supposed to work the rest of the night?”

           He ran his tongue over his molars as he grabbed the tap from where it had fallen to the ground, accepting the gentle teasing. “I just—I don’t know, you were just standing there and it all kind of—it just made sense all of a sudden.”

           “The stale beer did it for you? If I knew that I would’ve broken all of the lines ages ago.” You bit your lip against your smile, suddenly a little bashful and exposed and feeling every drying drop of beer across your chest.

           “I um, might have another t-shirt in the car if you want me to check.”

           “Thanks. I can get it though, can I have the keys?”

           Sam snaked a hand into his pocket and you could see the muscles in his forearm ripple as he grabbed them for you. He handed the keys over, his face open and vulnerable even with the hint of smirk. Tapping the keys against the doorframe you stalled for time, wanting more than anything to have even just an hour without responsibilities. You reached out and stroked his arm. “You’re sure about this? It’s okay if you’re—”

           Sam’s head bobbed quickly. “Yeah. Yes, I’m sure.” He looked solemn, resolute in a way that reassured you. “I’m sorry it took—”

           “Nothing to be sorry about. I just wanted to check.”

           He closed the step between you, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear and gazing down into your eyes. “I know. And thank you for that.” He kissed you on the forehead, grinning into your hair. “Now go change, you smell like a frat party.”

           You pushed playfully against his chest and made your way upstairs, leaving him smiling at your back as you walked away.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 15

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[martelldoran]

unsolicited tfatws opinions because i have them vol. 1

warning: here be spoilers

starting on the positive because there were things i did like in the episode

things i liked

sam wilson: *exists*

me:

sam's storyline was definitely the strongest of the two in this ep and i liked pretty much everything he did.

the opening aerial fight! was! so! cool! seeing batroc again was a nice nod to tws too and an interesting parallel to steve's lumerian star fight. i loved seeing his quick tactical thing, seeing how he fights, and the way he utilises the wings even in close quarters.

sam speaks arabic!

sam fixes redwing! (validation of a hc of mine that he's good with robotics. maybe that's a widely held fandom one as well? idk)

i instantly found torres to be really endearing and i'm looking forward to seeing more of him throughout the series. the relationship between him and sam has a lot of potential.

the manipulation of the government and general set up for sam's storyline felt strong. good basis for a story and pertinent to the current political landscape.

sam's speech as he handed over the shield was well written and gave me the same kind of vibes as the 'the price of freedom is high' speech. they could be quite nicely paralleled side by side.

sam's family! look, i'm a sucker for domestic moments for our faves so the entire sequence where we got this insight into sam's past, his relationship with his sister, and where he's come from was brilliant. i like sarah a lot and seeing her frustration with her brother for trying to come in and fix things when he's been gone for so long felt really realistic. i felt for her a lot. because you can tell there's so much there bubbling under the surface, a mix of love and resentment and frustration that was palpable as they talked about what to do with their parents' house/boat/business. so, give me all of the sarah wilson moments pls n thnx.

seeing the consequences of the snap (hi, i am refusing to call it the fucking blip. marvel, my god, get better names for shit.) idk how in depth they're really going to go into it all but at least they attempted something here with the scenes at the bank.

bucky's nightmare sequence as the winter soldier. it was such a brilliant reminder about how terrifying tws actually is. he's silent and ominous and THAT MUSIC. his presence is legitimately unsettling from the moment you see him. (but he runs around like a bull in a china shop which does make me 🤔 when i remember he's supposed to be a g h o s t s t o r y. idk. not exactly stealth and shadow work. but that doesn't look cool on screen so 🤷🏻‍♀️)

and on that note, vindication of my 'they sleep on the floor after coming back' headcanon. literally had raymond holt screaming in my head the second i saw bucky wake up on his living room floor. does my heart break for him? yes. was i smug about being right? also yes.

leah seems cool. could she actually be telepathic??? since she hit every single one of bucky's boats while they played battleships? i would like to see it. 😂 there's def more to her character than meets the eye since she's slated to be in all six episodes.

bucky having one (1) old man friend even if the reason behind it was heartbreaking.

so, yeah. these things i genuinely liked.

things i didn't like

the therapy scene. i genuinely hated it. there's a different between a no nonsense therapist and someone being deliberately antagonistic and that definitely erred on the side of the latter imo. she tells him to 'get over it' and mocks him for not reaching out and meeting people. media in general doesn't do a good job of depicting therapy so this is just yet another poor offering into the canon. i'm tired. i want healthy depictions of therapy already. it's supposed to be a supportive environment ffs.

plus she kept calling him james 🤮 genuinely wouldn't be surprised if she turns out to be a bad guy plant. which i think is a cliche at this point? 🤔

bucky's new look. which i know we've seen before now but i've not offered my unsolicited opinion on it. it's just sebastian stan in an ugly leather jacket. it's generic male lead#346. it's broification. someone said they made him look like brock rumlow and now i can't unsee it. 😭 rip to bucky with the good hair. i'd have loved to see him with some curls tbh. or a wave that kind of calls back to his pre-war days. anyway. i digress. character design is 0/10.

would have been nice to see him cut his hair as a marker of him starting a new chapter and coming into his own personhood.

rhodey's disability was just? glossed over? no visible assistive tech at all?

the date. just the fact it was there at all. it was heavy handed and not subtle and we know why they put that in there within the first 10 minutes of bucky's screen time. that's all i'm going to say about it. if you follow me, you know where i stand. we don't need poorly written romance. get it in the bin.

there was no acknowledgement of bucky's relationship with steve. if there was a memorial to be had then bucky should have been there. maybe these will come later but i'm not holding my breath.

is steve dead? i assumed that the party line was that young steve died in the battle and no-one knew about old steve . but did they actually kill steve off-screen? what a kick in the teeth if that's the case. let me just cut open a wound for them to pour the salt straight into, shall i?

things i'm mostly neutral on

john walker. he looks like a cop and his wink at the camera gave me the creeps but i'm interested to see how that pans out. i hope sam beats 50 shades of star spangled shit out of him.

the flag smashers. premise of a world without borders is interesting and a believable concept given what's happened in universe. there's a lot of scope there i think. that said, the name is dumb.

right. i think that covers everything for now. my expectations going in were really low, i won't lie. before the premiere i tried to stay away from the trailers and tv spots and the hype in general so i was pleasantly surprised at how much i enjoyed certain aspects of the show.

in conclusion, some good, some bad, some ugly and i will be cherry picking my favourite nuggets for fic at a later point. also, i'm still a skrull!Steve truther. real steve is chilling with some wakandan goats 😌💖✨

[sourwolphs]

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (4/8)

Read on Ao3 (for better interface + formatting)

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M 

Wanda used our winding trip from the medical bay all the way to the residential quarters to point out all the amenities in the massive Avenger compound. There was a gym packed with state-of-the-art equipment, a training room with a boxing ring and floor-to-ceiling padding, a lap pool, steel-and-glass conference rooms and office spaces, and even vibranium-reinforced practice rooms for enhanced members of the team. In the upper levels, we passed through the sprawling main kitchen, a lounge packed with plush red couches and a bar stocked with top-shelf alcohol, and a dark and cozy movie room with a massive projector screen.

I was still feeling weak and tired post-heat, and seeing the Avengers compound felt surreal, like I was walking through a dream. All those years I’d spent running… from what? From this? From resources? From a pack? From a chance to make a difference?

Maybe I was crazy to already feel like I belonged here, that I could use the abilities I never asked for to do good in the world, but walking through the compound with Wanda felt… right. I felt like I was coming home.

The only piece missing was him, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore the insistent tug in my chest seeking out Alpha.

Wanda showed me up to my floor, one level above the other residential floor with the common kitchen and lounge area. The pack’s living quarters were built like an apartment complex with hallways full of doors— some with name tags and goofy indicators of the inhabitants (like a cardboard cutout of Captain America with a Sharpie heart drawn on his face outside of a door marked “Wilson” and a fuzzy Halloween doormat covered in orange spiders outside of “Romanoff”).

“Well, here you are,” Wanda said. We stopped in front of a door at the end of the second hallway. Inside was a newly renovated one-bedroom apartment, complete with a kitchenette, living area, bathroom and closet. It was cozy and fully-stocked— sheets, towels, pillows, even pantry staples— and had clearly been decorated by someone with an eye for interior design. I wondered if Tony’s Omega had been in charge of it.

I surprised myself when I felt a tear slip down my cheek, emotions bubbling up inside my chest. I’d spent so many years living in dumps, sleeping on couches and in bathtubs, even on wooden pallets in the back of a restaurant where I had worked for six months, when I could have just listened to that agent and found my way here.

Wanda must have caught the sadness, anger, gratitude and guilt swirling in my scent because she wordlessly leaned in for a hug, her arms warm and firm around me. “You will always be welcome here,” she murmured. I took a deep, soothing inhale of her cinnamon sugar scent and immediately felt my heightened emotions calm— a courtesy of her comforting designation.

After Wanda left me to relax and settle in, I showered and changed into a plain set of loungewear I found in the dresser, climbing into the freshly made bed for a nap and some time to think.

I’d spent the bulk of my adult life running from difficult choices and responsibilities, preferring to scrape by under the radar, hiding both my abilities and my designation. Even just a few days ago, I probably would have given Wanda the slip and found my way to another state to start over. But something had changed in me. I wanted to try.

Maybe it was the fact that the threats the red-haired agent had warned me of had finally become a reality in that Hydra cell.

Or maybe it had something to do with him.

The pack left me alone for a few hours, which I spent getting in a quick power nap before snooping through the apartment, finding good hiding spots and plotting emergency escape routes— because old habits die hard.

I had my head in the closet, groping at a panel in the wall that could either be an air duct or a hidden electrical control panel, when someone knocked softly. As I approached the door, I couldn’t help but take in a deep breath— hoping for that smoky cedar scent on the other side— only to be met with a smooth and neutral Beta blend that was surprisingly familiar.

On the other side of the door stood the red-haired agent.

Last time I’d seen her, there had still been hints of blonde growing out at the ends of her hair. Now, it was cut in a short bob at her jawline, the deep red at her roots running solid through the strands. She smelled like rosewater and ozone— a garden before the rain.

“It’s you,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying. She smirked at me, pouting her lips, and I couldn’t help but feel remorseful. I hadn’t been the nicest when she’d found me last. My escape had involved quite a lot of…. frozen body parts.

“Hi, Y/L/N,” she said. “You’re looking a little less frosty than the last time I saw you.”

I laughed nervously, hoping she wasn’t here to give me a dressing down. I’d only frozen her limbs a little bit back at Fifth Street. Besides, I wasn’t in any state for a brawl, especially with my connection to my abilities still weak post-heat— not to mention the lingering effects of the Terrigen Crystal restraints. “Do you want to… come in?” I asked, opening the door wider.

The Beta nodded and slipped through the door, gaze sweeping around the room before she plopped onto a sectional in the living room. She was graceful and lithe, clad in all-black athleisure, hair pulled back behind her head in a delicate french braid.

“I should probably introduce myse—“

“Did you braid my hair for me?” I interrupted.

She smiled and laughed a little, looking surprised. “You noticed?” She asked, patting the braid at the back of her own head. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake up when I did it, actually. Wanda and I didn’t want you to come to and think you were back in that cell. We figured cleaning you up a bit in the medbay would help.”

I swallowed down the unexpected lump forming in my throat. No one had cared for me like that since my Mom had passed. “Thank you,” I choked out— but it came out more like a whisper. I took a seat on the edge of the couch across from her.

“It was nothing,” she said with a smile. “Anyway— Let me re-introduce myself. I’m Agent Natasha Romanoff, but you can call me Nat. Everyone does. I think we got off on the wrong foot last time we met,” she said with a smirk.

“I’m sorry… I—“ I dropped my head into my hands in embarrassment, groaning.

“Don’t apologize! I cornered you. I shouldn’t have. Besides, I deserved it for underestimating your… tenacity,” she winked. “I’m here to see how you’re holding up. And to fill you in on what you missed while you were out, and what we know so far.”

I nodded, urging her to continue.

“We found you and Bucky at a defunct Hydra base in Paraguay,” she began. My breath hitched at the mention of his name. “We also found a bunch of illegal rut and heat-inducing drugs, and obstetrics equipment, all of which we confiscated for analysis. When we found you, you were deep into a sympathy heat and Bucky was barely hanging on through his rut, but we managed to get you both to safety without incident.”

I was speechless. I knew Hydra was evil. They were the bogeymen of children’s nightmares when I was growing up, the big bad evil lurking just beneath the surface. But what were they planning…. And why me?

“You’re probably wondering why it was you,” Nat said, reading my mind. “We don’t know either. But like I said the last time we met… There are a lot of evil people out there who would love to get their hands on your abilities.”

“When you first came to me, that warning didn’t seem real,” I admitted. “It does now.”

Nat nodded. “And the offer I made to you back then still stands. You’re a damn strong woman to have made it through what you did, and the world needs more people like you protecting it. Bucky told us how you stood up to that Hydra douchebag.”

“Aw, shucks,” I said, trying to play it cool through the heat rising in my cheeks and the swoop of excitement in my stomach. They really wanted me here. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to keep me around, but if I’m being honest, I don’t really feel particularly safe leaving. At least not now.”

“Understandable,” she added. “Take your time getting settled in. We don’t run on any formal schedule around here— most of the pack either lives here or spends weekdays here. You’re welcome to use any of the facilities— except I don’t recommend poking around in Stark’s lab.”

We both laughed, and Nat stood, making her way back out of my new living space. “Oh— One more thing before I leave you alone,” she said, spinning gracefully on her heels. “Wanda asked me to tell you that if you want someone to train with, she’s happy to help.”

——-

I’d never had a pack. Not since my parents, anyway— but the three of us could hardly be considered one, with how isolated we were. So it genuinely surprised me how quickly and effortlessly I fit in at the compound.

It took a few days to find my footing. I spent long hours mapping out the maze of buildings, hallways and facilities from one edge of the campus to the other. But slowly, I started to carve out a routine with the people who lived here.

It was Sam who became my friend first. We met one morning in the common area kitchen, as I awkwardly buttered a slice of toast, planning to take it back to my room to eat alone. He’d just gotten back from a run, sweat sticking his shirt to his chest, making his normally neutral Beta scent strong and tropical. It reminded me of the beach— salty ocean breezes, lemon and lime. He was leaning against the counter, swigging down orange juice straight from the carton, and giving me an amused look. Before I could retreat to my room, he coaxed me to the countertop to keep him company while he ate.

We hit it off almost immediately, discovering everything we had in common. We both loved 60s music, enjoyed running in the mornings, and considered breakfast our favorite meal of the day. From that morning on, we made it a routine to cook elaborate egg, bacon and pancake breakfasts, the scent of which reliably drew pack members out of their rooms with bleary eyes and morning breath.

Soon, our morning breakfasts turned into pre-breakfast runs. I quickly learned that my abilities increased my stamina more than I had previously known, as I outpaced Sam most days. After 10 miles left him sweat-soaked and gasping for breath, I felt like I had the energy for another 20.

A week after our heart-to-heart in my apartment, I stumbled upon Natasha’s secret training room, located a few doors down from the gym and boxing ring and devised to look like a storage closet from the outside. It was a small, low-lit room with mirrors on the walls and a ballet bar running down the width. She was practicing pointe, hair tied back in a severe bun. I’d never learned to dance, but I liked to share space with her while she trained, marveling at the power and grace in her form. I started bringing a yoga mat there in the early afternoon when I knew I could find her there. I’d always enjoyed yoga— needed it, even. The grounding and meditation aspects of the practice helped me locate the source of the strange energy within me and wrangle it under control. With my body distracted by challenging physical forms, my mind was free to connect with that icy burn in my chest, memorizing how it channeled its way through my body.

I was overjoyed at my blossoming friendships with the two Betas, but at the end of the day, I found myself craving time with another Omega. Luckily, I had Wanda in my corner right from the jump. It’s common for pack Omegas to stick together, serving as sources of comfort and support to one another without any strings attached, and Wanda was generous with both. We’d spend the early evenings in comfortable silence, reading or watching 80s sitcoms. Some days, we’d even venture into the the reinforced training rooms so I could test out the strength of my abilities under supervision. Wanda never parted ways with me without a soothing hug, and I began to wonder if she needed them just as much as I did. Natasha had told me she was bonded, but I could never smell her mate on her, nor had I met him yet.

I ran into Steve last, on a Saturday afternoon. According to Nat, he’d been out on missions for my first week, which is why I hadn’t met him yet. I was outside, wandering the paths of the Avengers campus and soaking up the early spring sunshine.

Feeling uncharacteristically safe, I turned my head up towards the blue sky as I walked— which meant that I literally ran straight into Captain America. He was still suited up in navy tactical gear, dirt smudged across his cheek and in his golden hair, vibranium shield strapped to his back.

“Woah there,” he said, reaching out to steady me with just the tips of his fingers as I ricocheted off his chest.

I was immediately hit with his warm and inviting scent, like hot summer sunshine and old books. It felt strangely familiar and… comforting. He was huge, as most Alphas are, but his kind, open face and gentle scent felt to me more like that of a Beta or an Omega.

“S-Sorry,” I sputtered, taking a step back. His hands dropped to his sides. “Wasn’t looking where I was going— clearly”

“Steve Rogers,” he said with a smile, holding out his hand to shake.

I laughed, despite my initial nervousness. “Yeah, I know. Nice to meet you Captain America, I’m Y/N.”

Was that a… blush? Steve looked bashful. “Actually, we’ve already met, but I don’t think you remember. Last week. I…carried you out of that Hydra base.”

My eyes widened. That must be why I’d unconsciously associated his scent with safety.

Now it was my turn to blush— he’d carried me out while I was in heat. Sobbing, begging for my Alpha, slick running down my legs…

“Nat didn’t tell me that part,” I said quickly. “But thank you. Really. I owe you.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Happy to help.”    

From that day on, Steve started accompanying Sam and I on our runs in the morning, much to Sam’s chagrin. Not even I could keep up with Steve’s superhuman stamina, but teaming up on Sam to outrace him made us laugh until our sides were in stitches.

After I’d accidentally let it slip that the only major movie franchises I’d watched were Star Wars and Toy Story, Sam took it upon himself to “educate” me on the best action movies of the 90s and 2000s every evening. In just a few weeks, we tore through Mortal Kombat, Point Break, Die Hard, the Matrix trilogy, and the Mission Impossible series. Steve would often join us, cramming his huge body onto the compact couches in the movie room. Even Natasha found time at the end of the day to curl up with us, critiquing the outlandish hand-to-hand combat moves on the projector screen and throwing popcorn every time the choreography offended her expert sensibilities.

Though I felt closest and most comfortable with Sam, Wanda, Nat and Steve, I slowly got to know the other pack members as well. Stark, who spent most of his time tinkering in his lab, sent updates to me through FRIDAY on any new information their analysis had uncovered from the confiscated Hydra equipment. Dr. Banner, a shy Omega who smelled peculiarly like sage and burnt caramel, was helping Stark analyze the equipment, and would often share updates as well. Pepper, Stark’s Omega, was a human ray of sunshine. She checked on me more than a few times, always asking how the facilities were treating me and urging me to ask for anything I needed.

Altogether, my first three weeks with the pack were a dream come true. But as much as I loved every minute of my new life here, there was something— rather, someone— missing.

My first day waking up at the compound, I’d half expected Bucky to come find me. After all, we’d been through something terrible together. Part of me stupidly believed he’d swoop in to comfort me, apologize for not being by my bedside when I woke up and reassure me that everything was going to be fine. But that was just a silly fantasy concocted by my Omega hindbrain. He never showed. And nobody seemed to be talking about him, either— at least not to me.

After Wanda had reacted so strangely to my questions about his whereabouts when I woke up, I held back from asking any follow-up questions of Sam, Nat or Steve. I’d never had an Alpha in my life. My parents had been Betas. I didn’t know if it was normal for an Omega to feel this connected, this obsessive. And frankly, I didn’t want to be weird.

After a few weeks, I started to grow used to my Omega brain thinking about him by default— his delicious scent, his icy blue eyes, the feel of his fingers gently carding through my hair, the pressure of his teeth on my neck. More often than not, I found myself unconsciously scenting different rooms in the compound, seeking out that cedar smell before I entered. But I never caught it.

I struggled to sleep at night. After feeling it once, unlike anything I’d experienced before, my body viscerally craved the comfort of his Alpha purr. The craving was so strong that sometimes I couldn’t rest for hours— tossing and turning, piling pillows and blankets on the bed to imitate the safety of a nest. Running with Sam and Steve in the morning helped tire me out. So did practicing yoga with Nat, and exhausting my abilities in the training room with Wanda. But there was always something missing. And try as I might, I couldn’t shake it.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think that I was experiencing bond withdrawal. But without a mating bite, that explanation was impossible.

————

If Bucky hadn’t been tortured by Hydra for 70 years, he would say that this was the worst pain he’d ever experienced. It didn’t compare to having his brain scrambled by electricity, but it was damn close.

After the quinjet had landed at base after the rescue, and Sam had scooped up Y/N to ferry her to the medbay, Bucky pulled Steve aside on the landing strip, tearing his eyes away from Sam’s back retreating into the compound.

“I think it would be best if I… went away for a while,” Bucky said, unable to make eye contact with his best friend. He studied Steve’s boots, dirt-smudged and scuffed from combat.

“Buck, I don’t like where your head’s at,” Steve said gently, placing a grounding hand on his shoulder. “You just got dosed up on synthetic rut and locked up with an Omega in heat for some messed up…forced breeding crap. It’s not like you did anything wrong. This isn’t on you.”

Bucky bit his tongue, hard. That’s where Steve was wrong. He had done something wrong— and even if he hadn’t succumbed to what Hydra wanted from him, he still needed to keep himself away from Y/N. This close, he could still smell traces of the Omega’s heat lingering on Steve. Even without rut, it was turning his inner Alpha feral with want.

“Just a few weeks, is all. Make sure she’s okay?” Bucky said, knowing he didn’t have to ask. The pack would take care of her. “She’s strong— she told those Hydra agents to fuck off— but she shouldn’t have to be. Not after this.”

Steve gave him his signature earnest look, chewing his lower lip with concern, before sighing out his agreement.

Bucky had spent the past few weeks in a cramped studio apartment the pack kept for emergencies in Brooklyn. He’d hardly left the space, sleeping fitful hours in the night, interrupted by nightmares. He’d paced the floor in front of the only window so many times in his agitation that he thought he was starting to see grooves in the wood.

At all hours of the day, he ached for her scent, still vivid in his Alpha hindbrain— sharp and crisp as snow but just as sugary sweet as peppermint. Embarrassingly, he’d taken to snacking on a crumbling jar of mints he’d found in the back of the pantry, letting the artificial scent soothe his racing thoughts as they melted on his tongue. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it helped— especially since his whole body felt like it was prickling with need nonstop, chest cracking open, aching for her touch. His Alpha wrestled with his conscious brain to remember every small detail of her, from the gentle curve of her waist to her soft lips, the feeling of her hair between his fingertips, her unbelievable scent.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was going through fucking bond withdrawal. With an Omega he’d spent maybe seven hours with.

If Bucky’d had it his way, he would have stayed holed up in the apartment until this… thing had run its course. But after three weeks, Steve had finally had enough of his self-isolating nonsense, and had showed up at the door of the apartment to drag Bucky back with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Bucky could tell his best friend didn’t know exactly why he was so opposed to returning home, though he figured Steve had an inkling of what was going on just from the lingering scent of suffering and guilt that had soaked into the peeling wallpaper of the studio.

“Everything’s fine, Buck. She’s settling in great— you’ll see. Wanda, Sam and Nat love her,” he said reassuringly, the unspoken I do, too hung in the air between them. Even with three weeks of distance between them, Bucky still couldn’t forgive himself for not being the Alpha to rescue her from that cell, for being so caught up in his own urges that he couldn’t be the hero that Steve was.

Bucky spent the majority of the car ride back to the compound stewing in self-hatred and anxiety, wondering if his return would be what tipped Y/N over the edge, sending her back into hiding. Then it would be undeniably his fault that she left. His fault that she was taken from everyone in the pack. Mercifully, Steve said nothing about his inner turmoil stinking up the car, only rolling down the window a crack to let in the cool spring air.

Even after all that time spent stewing in his thoughts, Bucky still wasn’t prepared to see her the minute he got back to the compound.

When he stepped out of the elevator on his floor, duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, he was immediately hit with three scents at once— a hot spike of concern from Steve, a dose of Nat’s joyful rosewater smell, and her. Peppermint. This time sweet, happy and warm like a cup of mint tea.

The two women were laughing together, lounging on the plush red couches of the living space, but their laughter cut off sharply as the ding of the elevator sounded. Bucky froze like a deer in headlights as they both turned to look his way.

Time seemed to slow down as their eyes connected. His eyes frantically scanned her face and body for evidence of injury, documenting the healthy glow in her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, her soft hair pulled back in one of Nat’s french braids. She looked… happy. Healthy. Beautiful.

Unconsciously, he felt his hackles raise when he noticed Nat’s hand circled around Y/N’s ankle where it was stretched out towards her lap.

“Hey Buck, long time no see,” Nat said with an uncharacteristic gentleness, shaking him out of his stupor. Both women were giving him a concerned look, now, the smiles drifting off of their faces.

Rather than say or do anything he regretted, Bucky elected not to say or do anything at all. Coward, his Alpha snarled at him as he strode down the hallway to his bedroom. Go back there and claim your Omega.

“Buck!” Steve called after him, concern coloring his tone. “Bucky!”

But Bucky ignored him, holding his breath to avoid her scent until his apartment door was shut tight behind his back.

[dean-winchesters-gardian-angel]

The Same Bed - Chapter 2

Word count: 2895

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, unhealthy past relationship, slow burn.

A/N: Second chapter has arrived y’all. Read it, enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s also a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, or don’t I won’t force ya, as well as a masterlist so be sure to check it out. Anyway, as are the latest, Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.

Series masterlist

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

The next week consisted of the same routine. Always in the same bed, always holding hands, with Dean falling asleep first. Tonight, was no different, apart from the bar they decide to hit after a very successful hunt before heading home. An easy salt ’n’ burn which went down without a hitch. Celebratory drinks were purchased and consumed by the Winchesters and their partner. They sat on the stools awaiting their next drinks while Y/N was approached by a man. Not unattractive by any means, well-built and clean. Sam looked over watching the interaction and Dean's behaviour knowing full well he may have to break up a fight if it went too far. Dean watched as Y/N shamelessly flirted with the gentlemen who had now caught her attention. It didn’t take very long for Dean's jealousy to overtake him as he clenched his fist around his beer bottle his posture tall and rigid. Y/N turned to the boys after wishing the stranger a good night.

“Hey guys I’m kind of beat, what’d you say we head home?”

“You turned down Prince Charming?” Trust Dean to make the ridiculous comments.

“Actually no, I told him I’d be more than willing to run away with him and have all his Prince Charming babies in his castle, but he didn’t want to make my boyfriend angry.” Trust Y/N to throw the comment right back at him.

“What boyfriend?” Y/N looked at Dean, a smirk on her face with one eyebrow raised as she pointed at him.

“He said you looked angry and didn’t want to provoke you by talking to me. So, thanks for that.” She started walking towards the exit a smirk on her face as Dean chased her, Sam holding up the tail laughing to himself.

“Don’t blame that on me I didn’t do anything! Oh, excuse me for being precautions and not wanting you to get hurt!” Dean could argue all he wanted but with Sam laughing and Y/N being as nonchalant as she was, he couldn’t get a reaction out of them. After getting home, they all made their way to bed. As always Y/N stayed with Dean, though tonight she couldn’t fall asleep and for good reason. Y/Ns phone had begun vibrating incessantly. She snatched it up swiftly with the aim of leaving Dean to his sleep, and she managed gracefully.

What woke Dean that night was something he would have described as a nightmare, though tonight it happened to be real and not a figment of his sleeping state. Dean opened his eye to see Y/N sitting up leaning against the headboard instead of the bright Y/E/C he was usually greeted with. Her gaze wasn’t on his as he’d hoped it’d be, it was on her phone, and they weren’t happy or refreshed as they ordinarily were, they were lacking in rest and filled with tears coupled with the sorrowful and provoked look on her face. Dean rushed to sit up looking at her, worry painted plain and clear on his face.

“Y/N! Are you okay? What happened?” His gaze had trailed to her phone which she briskly shut off, wiping tears away with her free hand.

“Dean! Sorry, I — Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you, I was just — I was reading the news.” She had always been a terrible liar.

“The news made you cry?” The disbelief overtook his expression. “Y/N I trusted you with my nightmares, you can trust me with — “ he waved his hand at the phone “whatever this is.”

“I know, I know I just — I want to forget about it…” Deans stare didn’t falter, waiting for her to continue. Y/N caved, leaning her head back and closing her eyes as though she could make it all disappear if she couldn’t see anything.

“I have this ex…” she peered over to Dean who made himself comfortable. She had his full and undivided attention, which she hated. “He’s mad about the breakup.”

“Y/N I’ve known you for ages you haven’t dated anyone in years.”

“Oh, I know…which just makes his advances and accusation all the more aggravating… His name is Carver. Keeps saying I messed up his life, that if I hadn’t shown up, he’d have been better off. Jokes on him I was the better half of that relationship and I can say that. Anyway, um, in short, he’s bombarding me with texts about how I never loved him, about how I played him and he’s accusing me of cheating and not doing enough for him, there’s more but it's all the same pathetic revelations he thinks I need to know about at two am four years after our breakup. I mean we didn’t even date that long to begin with it took me less than two months to figure out what a pig-headed loser he was — is!”

She was angry, hurt by the words directed at her. Regardless of the fact that she knew not to take Carver’s words to heart, she couldn’t help but do just that. Seeing as he had never been good with words, Dean instantly took action, pulling her close, hugging her as she cried her way back to sleep in his arms. Dean slid down in the bed, not once pulling away from Y/Ns body or moving her to her side. Dean found it difficult to keep the butterflies at bay as he focused on her breathing. He fell asleep with his girl on his chest and a smile on his lips.

When Y/N woke she could feel the weight of Dean's warm hand stroke her back and could hear a steady pulsing noise. Funny enough that, she soon identified the noise as Dean's heartbeat seeing as she was still laying on his chest. She moved cautiously unaware of the fact that the man she had fallen asleep on was in fact awake as well.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

“Morning, Dean. Listen about last night—“

“It's okay, really, I’m just glad I could be there for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You know, I seem to remember a pizza when you helped me…”

“Really? I don’t.” This was easy, Dean thought, comfortable, with Y/N resting gently against his chest looking up at him, his hand still stroking her back.

“Huh, I could have sworn there was a pizza.”

“Oh, you mean the one you finished off before I could get a chance to taste it. That pizza?”

“If I remember correctly, which I do, it was you who ate it all…before we even got home.”

“Oh, you mean that pizza. I do recall yes.” She smiled at him “And what would you like Dean?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Fine but you’re buying, I’m just going with you.” Y/N made her way out of bed to the door.

“That’s hardly fair!” He called out after her, a smile adorning his face. Dean got up and moved to the bathroom stopping at the sink to look himself in the mirror.

“You’re losing this battle and you’re losing it bad. Man, how does she do it.” He brushed his teeth and made his way to the bunker library where Sam was researching, as always, on his laptop, books scattered over the table.

“Morning, Sammy. Y/N and I are going on a supply run, you need anything?” Dean's eyes trained over the opened pages before looking to his brother, eyebrows raised as he awaited his brother's response.

“You two have been spending quite a bit of time together.”

“Is that the title of a book or something you want me to pick up?” Sam watched his brother for a split second before Y/N joined them in the library dressed in black jeans and an equally black tank top, signature hunter flannel overtop.

“Morning, Sammy. Dean and I are going on a supply run. You need anything” The boys abandoned their stare before Sam answered as Dean headed for the door.

“No. Thank you. Oh, actually if you could bring back some cashews that would be great.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. See you later Sam.” With that Y/N followed Dean to the garage where she was once again faced with the stunning, near mint ’67 impala she had come to love almost as much as the driver. Noticing the smile decorating Y/Ns face he proceeds to say the one sentence, sworn she would never in a million years, come out of Dean's mouth.

“You wanna drive?” Naturally, Y/N was speechless, mouth left agape as Dean held out the keys.

“You’re serious…” Eyes wide she whispered, tiptoeing over to Dean.

“Yeah, I figured it’s about time.” Y/N took the keys in her palm memorizing the weight as though this was the last time she’d ever have the opportunity to touch them, which of course wasn’t true; Dean would always give her the keys to grab things for the trunk. She eased her way into the driver's seat hardly blinking, as not to miss a detail of this experience. Taking a deep breath, her cheeks began to hurt from all the smiling as she started turned the key in the ignition bringing Baby to life.

“Oh, Dean…Oh Baby!” Dean tries his best to hold back his giggles as he watched her watch Baby.

“She likes you”

“She’s not a dog Dean, she a machine.” He could hear the adoration in her voice as she gripped the steering wheel. Y/N proceeded to put the impala in the drive, pulling out of the bunker's garage onto the road in the direction of the grocery store. Dean's eyes lit up and the eruption of laughter coming from next to him. Dean moved to turn on the stereo putting in a Who tape but was interrupted by Y/N.

“Nuh-uh! Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cake-hole! Your rules Dean-o. Look in the box, there should be an orange tape.” Taken aback by her dominance, Dean looks through the case of tapes.

“Dean-o? Really? That just sounds so stupid.”

“Well then it’s fitting isn’t it? And I was worried you thought it was cute.”

“Haha…There’s like 17 orange tapes in here you wanna be more specific.”

“It should say ‘the best of Zeppelin’ in black sharpie, my handwriting.” Dean's confusion and surprise grew as he finally reached for the tape described to him.

“Put it in.” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the innuendos running through her head though Dean missed it, too consumed by shock at her choice of music as he inserted the tape.

“The first one is my favourite Zeppelin song so no interrupting.” Instantly the aforementioned bands ‘No Quarter’ came on, filling the car with its gentle beginning. As the guitar and drums picked up Y/N smirked and nodded her head to the music.

“Just wait for the bass.” Without delay the instrument picked up, engulfing their mutual ears with something Y/N could only describe as “Better than breathing air.”

She sang the lyrics alongside Robert Plant at a hushed murmur not wanting to miss the words the artist performed. With every beat her fingers tapped on the steering, she consequently plucked at each of Dean's heartstrings. He felt a warm, nearly overwhelming feeling charge through his chest though as soon as he came to notice it, he pushed it down just as fast as it had made its way up.

Y/N still had a smile on her face when they arrived at the grocery store though it took them longer to get there due to the scenic route the drive had taken. She got out of the car happy to have had the experience but nevertheless saddened by the slim chance of ever have it again. Y/N came around the car to Dean's side holding out the keys to him before he looks at her, his face expressing the utmost confusion, sarcastically so, before smiling.

“Nah, you hold onto ‘em sweetheart, how do you expect to drive us home if you don’t have the key.”

With a shriek and a jump before clinging to the Winchesters side in a show of thanks, Y/N displayed to perfection, a child on Christmas morning. Though he hugged back he watched around them, inspecting for judgmental eyes.

“We are in public!” He said.

“Shit! I know.” Dean began their trek to the entrance with Y/N wrapped around his waist, his arm resting on her shoulder.

Dean grabbed a buggy at the entrance pushing it to the produce.

“We gotta grab those, uh…” “Cashews?”

“Yes, those, before we forget.”

“Good idea.”

The store was sparse of customers given that it was the middle of the day in the middle of the week, neither was surprised. Their cart had begun accumulating content as Dean pushed while Y/N rode on the front-facing him.

“Alright, we got the bread, milk, eggs, cashews, bacon,” She looks up to Dean “times two,” he shrugged “snacks for the drive back and movie night,” “all we're missing now is —“

“Y/N?” She didn’t turn to check who had called because she already knew, recognizing the voice that had yelled ta her on multiple occasions only to apologize saying he’d do better. Instead, she looked to Dean who eyebrows had raised in a questioning manner then focusing on the man who had called her name. Y/N hopped off the buggy slowly to be faced with the one that still managed to ruin her sleep all these years later. Dean promptly made his way to her side reassuring her with a hand on her lower back.

“Carver— Hi.” Dean jaw visibly clicked at the mention of his title, finally putting a face to the name.

“What are the chances!” How dare he text her those things the night before only to act as though nothing happened. Dean was furious, he could feel his anger roll through him as he clenched and released his fist doing his best no to make a scene.

“Yeah…” She breathed out in shock. Not a word was spoken as they watched the ex standing in front of them.

“Can we talk?”

“No. I’m busy.”

“It’ll only take a second.” He looked to Dean, who had taken a protective stance next to her, standing up straight and tall, shoulders back, chin tilted up slightly, a blank expression on his face.

“Just say it then.”

“I was hoping I could speak with you alone.”

“No.” This time Dean was the one to respond to Carver’s request.

“I wasn’t really askin’ you, buddy.”

“He’s staying Carver. Just — say whatever you have to say, will you.” It took him a moment as he held Dean's stare before moving his gaze to Y/N.

“I wanted to apologize for last night…you know… the—“ He gestured using his head glancing at Dean momentarily.

“You mean the utterly untruthful and pitiful text you sent to me accusing me of things I never did.” Carver’s face went red looking to Dean. “He knows.” The Winchester found it amusing that her ex was intimidated by him with only a stare.

“Right, well, I just wanted to apologize. I was drunk and didn’t mean any of it.” Carver moved his hand to the back of his neck before continuing. “I guess I was just missing you.”

“That’s because I took on all the responsibilities when we were together, Carver. You did nothing. And you know what they say, ‘drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.’”

Dean now had a proud smile on his face as his hand slid from her back to rest on her shoulder. Carver didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t argue with her, not that he’d want to, considering the towering man next to her. Carver examined the couple, taking in their comfort around each other. Y/N was unconsciously leaning into Dean, taking comfort in his close proximity.

“You guys dating.” Carver finally asked. Y/N didn’t even get a chance to process the question let alone think of a response before Dean spoke up.

“Well, we’re certainly not just sleeping together. Not that it’s any of your business.” Y/N smirked at his comment, understanding the inside joke that they were in fact just sleeping together in the most literal sense possible, though Carver took the smile as a sign of confirmation. Neither argued his assumption nor clarified, both enjoying the uncomfortable atmosphere around Carver.

“It was good to see you Y/N.”

“It was wasn’t it.” She commented as Carver walked his way to the check-out line. Dean leaned down kissing the crown of her head.

“What. An asshole.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Right, now that that’s over,” He made a face of disgust as he shivered his shoulder to reinforce his implications. “where were we?” He smiled at her.

“Pie, Dean, we were at the pie. My ‘thank you’ for dealing with that.” She pointed in Carver’s general direction.

“Awesome, so worth it.” Dean's grin grew as he spotted the variations of baked goods.

As they drove back, Dean gave her permission to take the longest way home if she felt so inclined, which, needless the say, she did.

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

Chapter 3

Tag List: @just-someone-difficult​ @mila-dans​ @akshi8278​ @bargedog​ @valhallavxlkyrie

Series Tags: @wellfuckmyexistence​ @lovememisha​ @laycblack​ @redbarn1995​

[the-coda-project]

The Coda Project | 1.02 - Inherit the Flames

After reuniting Tommy Collins with his family, Dean and Sam stop for the night in a town called Rifle.

They’re about two hours out of Blackwater Ridge, at a dumpy motel on the edge of a town called Rifle, and Dean’s been staring at the tree-print wallpaper for so long that he’s started detecting patterns in the branches.

A cheap plug-in air freshener in the bathroom has the whole place reeking of artificial pine. Between that and the walls, Dean’s starting to feel as though the wilderness they just barely managed to escape from has followed them here. Hell, maybe they didn’t escape. Maybe he’s still strung up in the mine; maybe the wendigo is still tossing him around like a ragdoll, scrambling his brains just enough that he’s dreaming of a motel that doesn’t exist.

Outside, an eighteen-wheeler passes on the I-70, close enough to make the windows rattle. Dean shifts in his bed as if a different position is going to be enough to distract him from how badly his ribs ache. His scratched-up neck feels raw as road rash.

No matter how hard he tries, sleep still feels so far out of the realm of possibility that he starts wondering how long he should lie here before he can cut his losses and call it.

But then Sam pipes up—“Hey, can I ask you something?”—from across the room, not bothering to check first if Dean’s awake, and immediately he wants to just keep feigning sleep until morning. He might have sought out his brother’s company only a couple of weeks ago, but right now, with the memory of Sam’s dismissive attitude toward helping the Collins family fresh in his mind, he doesn’t feel much like talking to him.

“Dean.”

He presses his eyes shut, ignoring the part of himself that’s berating him for being childish. Whether he can get to sleep or not, he’s too goddamn exhausted to talk about anything that isn’t life or death.

If he thought there was even a chance that his brother was angling to talk about Jessica, he’d be sitting up and listening in a heartbeat. But his tone is inquisitive, not hesitant, and Sam’s been so closed-lipped about his grief that Dean only knows how much her death is affecting him because of how loud and frequent his nightmares have been.

“Dean,” Sam says again, slightly louder. “I know you’re awake.”

With a huff, Dean tilts his head to squint at him across the gap between their lumpy mattresses. He grimaces as the motion pulls at the claw marks on his neck. He’ll be lucky if they don’t scar, but maybe it’d be better if they do. Maybe it’d help if he could see something visibly fucked up when he looks in the mirror. Maybe that would make it easier to explain away the revulsion he feels when he meets his own eyes.

“Dude, can it wait until after I get a solid four hours?”

Bullheaded as ever, Sam ignores the question, sitting up and tucking his shaggy hair back behind his ears. He looks twelve years old. Dean figures he always will, in some ways.

“Did something happen with Dad? Before he took off, I mean.”

“Like what?”

He’s not sure why he bothers asking Sam to clarify.

Maybe it’s just to buy himself some time; to give himself a second to come up with some version of the truth that doesn’t amount to Dad’s an overbearing, pigheaded prick, just like you’ve always said, and if I didn’t think he was in trouble right now I’d be glad to be rid of him for at least another month.

Even thinking it makes him guilty. Like he’s a bad son for being so angry with the guy. But he’s gotta believe that his actions are the important part here; proof that no matter how much he hates his dad sometimes, he still loves him enough to want to keep this family as connected as he can.

Still, a part of him is wondering if it’s really worth it anymore to keep up the act. If his clinging to John and clinging to Sam is just making things worse for all of them. Making John think he’ll put up with whatever he throws at him. Making Sam think he doesn’t care enough to take his side against John when he’s being unreasonable.

A part of him wonders—but it’s not a big enough part to win. The thought that something might have happened to him keeps him from letting the bile spill.

Because if they can’t find him—or worse, if they do find him but they’re too late—Dean doesn’t want Sam to have more reasons to be angry with a dead man than he’s already got.

It’s not as though Dean’s not used to keeping this shit locked down, anyway. There’ve been other disagreements, other fights, other circumstances over the years that he knows weren’t even close to being fair on him, but that’s just his life. It sucks, but it’s how it’s always been. No use complaining about it if it’s never gonna change, and after living this way for twenty-two of his twenty-six years, he sees no reason to consider change a possibility.

In the grand scheme of things, this particular incident doesn’t even make the top five list of awful things John’s put him through. The honors there go to that time with the shtriga, abandoning him at Sonny’s and then uprooting him as soon as he let himself get comfortable, the hunt he sent him on as a seventeenth birthday “present”, the night he told Sam not to bother coming back if he left for school, and the simple act of raising his kids into this shit in the first place.

This one might make it into the top ten, though. He hasn’t decided yet.

“Well,” Sam says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You said you hadn’t heard from him in… what, three weeks before you got that message? Seems weird that it was so long, is all. You were on a hunt, he was on a hunt… it’s just weird that you weren’t checking in more often.”

Dean rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. There’s a water stain on the popcorn tile overhead that almost looks like a cactus if he looks at it the right way.

Christ, he could use some tequila right now. Maybe he can find them a case further south while they wait for some sign of John to turn up. Someplace warmer than the mountains in Colorado. Someplace where he can roll into town, waste a ghost, and then knock back a few drinks on a motel patio without having to talk to anyone at all.

“I mean, you usually check in more than that, right?” Sam goes on, and Dean sighs. He lifts one hand to rub at his brow.

“Yeah, usually.”

“So… what happened?”

“Nothing you gotta worry about,” he says, and immediately knows it was a mistake. Sam zeroes in on what Dean didn’t say just as intently as anyone else would focus on what he did.

Maybe he should go to law school after all—he’s already got the artful-conversational-trap shit down.

“You had a fight.”

“Sam—”

“No, c’mon Dean. You asked me to help you find him. If you had a fight before he left, that seems like it might be relevant.”

“It’s not.”

“So why won’t you just tell me?”

“It was nothing,” he insists. “Dad isn’t exactly Mr Congeniality, Sam. We fight all the time.”

“No, me and Dad fight all the time. The two of you are usually on the same page.”

Dean suppresses a snort and rolls onto his side, his back to Sam now as he looks at the narrow strip of moonlight edging past the thin motel curtains.

“You know I’ll just ask Dad when we find him if you don’t—“

“Jesus, Sam. It was nothing. Just a stupid disagreement about the hunt we were on. You know how he can get.”

“What was the hunt?”

“A witch in Louisiana. We had different ideas about what was going on, but it’s done, the witch is dead, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Okay?”

“That’s all?”

It’s not all.

Thanks to a botched salt-and-burn in Kentucky the previous month, things had already been tense well before they checked into a motel in Souffran, Louisiana. It only got worse when they ran into a woman Dean knew on their second day in town.

She’d been a civilian, last he’d seen her. Said she was a hunter now.

John had been ready to leave as soon as he found out she was already looking into it, but Dean wasn’t so eager.

It wasn’t that he thought Marisa was helpless—far from it, in fact. She’d been teaching capoeira when Dean met her in Texas a few months back. Had the thing terrorizing her students been corporeal, he has no doubt that she never would have needed any help in kicking its ass. But she was inexperienced as a hunter. Green as they come.

Dean didn’t love the idea of her taking on whatever was killing kids in Souffran alone.

When he told John as much, his dad just gave him a sly look, as if he thought the only reason Dean cared was because he was looking to get into Marisa’s pants. Dean wasn’t, for the record. As he saw it, it was his fault that she’d decided to try hunting on for size in the first place. He figured he owed it to her to back her up while she was still so new.

At first, all they’d had to go on was two kids who’d gone missing and turned up dead a week later without any visible injuries beyond a circular burn in the center of their chests; a girl named Lucy Parker who’d disappeared without a trace from her grandmother’s backyard yesterday but was yet to be found; and half a dozen wildly inconsistent reports of strange lights being seen in the swamp running along the north edge of town.

John had been convinced that they were dealing with a fi follet—a kind of malevolent will-‘o-the-wisp known to enact vengeance and drain the blood of children. When Dean disagreed with him, explaining to Marisa that the whole thing felt witchy to him, and pointing out that neither of the kids who’d died had shown any signs of blood loss, John got pigheaded and petty.

He called Dean arrogant. Accused him of acting like John was an idiot ever since they left Kentucky. Spat, “You spend one day showing a civvie the ropes and now you’re an expert, huh? Well go ahead, kid. Handle it on your own.”

And then he bailed.

Left Dean and Marisa to track down a missing eight year old on their own, and made Dean feel about three inches tall when he did it.

It took them almost a full two days to track the thing responsible. A witch, like Dean had thought, who’d been draining the kids of their life force in a desperate, last-ditch effort to stave off some sickness that was eating away at him. But the spell he’d been using was unstable and ineffective, and he’d been haggard and jittery when they found him in a rusty little shack out in the middle of nowhere.

Lucy Parker was right there with him in the room, suspended in mid-air by some unknown force as pale, flickering light leached from the center of her chest and down into a copper bowl on the floor beneath her. Her eyes were wide and rolled back to the whites. Her mouth was open as if she were screaming.

Marisa shot the witch point blank, right between the eyes, and Dean had darted forward to catch Lucy before she could hit the ground. He’d spent the entire time terrified that they were going to get to her too late; that she’d turn up dead before they could figure out where she’d been taken or how to deal with the thing that had taken her.

When she landed in his arms, he’d almost been sick when he felt how cold she was. How limp.

But after a second, she gasped, and coughed, and then she was clinging to him. Shaking.

He couldn’t put her down. She wouldn’t let Marisa take her.

He’d been forced leave the shack while Marisa dealt with the witch’s body and destroyed all the evidence before some local could stumble upon it, and when she’d emerged gray-faced and bloody half an hour later, with the crackle of fire just audible over the steady croak of frogs in the nearby water, he’d known that Marisa wasn’t going on any more hunts.

Lucy still refused to let go of him once they got back to the car, so he’d let Marisa drive them back to town, sitting in the back seat with the kid clinging to his side and sobbing snot into his jacket. He hadn’t even minded. If he didn’t think it would scare her more, he might have let himself cry out of sheer relief at finding her.

Late that night--once Lucy was back with her grandmother, and Marisa was on her way back to San Antonio, and Souffran was far enough in the rearview that it was safe to stop for the night--Dean had called John. He didn’t pick up.

Just sent Dean’s call straight to voicemail, then texted him coordinates for a poltergeist case near Mobile, Alabama an hour later. A few days after that, more coordinates directed him to the voodoo hunt in New Orleans.

So yeah, a witch in Louisiana is not all. Not by a long shot. He doesn’t tell Sam that, though. What would be the point?

“Yeah, that’s all,” he lies, still staring at the gap in the curtains. Another truck rumbles past, air brakes hissing as it slows to take the town exit. It’s so loud that he’s not sure that he’d manage to sleep here even if he wasn’t a headcase. “C’mon, I gotta crash, man.”

For a minute, it seems like Sam’s gonna keep at it. Like he’ll needle at Dean until he spills everything out onto the pilled carpet between them. How scared he is. How angry. How resentful. All the ugliest feelings that seem to be pressing up his throat and onto the back of his tongue like bile.

But he doesn’t. Just sighs, sounding as tired as Dean feels, and says, “Yeah, okay. Night, Dean.”

Dean grunts in reply, and Sam starts snoring after a half hour. Another half hour after that, his nightmares begin. Low, helpless murmurs of Jessica’s name and high-pitched whines of terror that stick in Dean’s chest like buckshot.

With dry eyes and an ever-present lump in his throat, Dean pushes out of bed and heads for the bathroom, taking the laptop as he goes.

If he’s lucky, he’ll find them a hunt before Sam wakes up. He can get them back on the road as soon as the sun rises. Keep them focused on something that isn’t the complete lack of leads on John.

If he’s not, maybe staying up will wear him out enough to sleep tomorrow. He’ll take what he can get.

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