#his baby brother something like that without trying to save sam pain. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcufox123 · 3 years

Text

Poofed

WandaxFemReader

Summary: Wanda copes with a life that may not have you in it.

Warnings: Devestation

A/N: This story literally is heartbreaking but in a good way I think. Let me know what you guys think!

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You wake up suddenly to your hand being kicked. It was wrapped around your wife’s very pregnant belly as you both tried to sleep through the night. You smiled dreamily in your sleepy state as you were reminded of the twins who would be born any day now.

You and your wife were a part of the famous superhero group who saved the world numerous times. Shortly after she joined and got acclimated with the team the two of you started dating. It has now been 7 years of being together, 3 of them being married. You had moved out of the compound and were now living in your dream house in the countryside, the perfect place for your growing family.

While Wanda was able to take leave months ago as none of the team wanted your children hurt, you still went to work every day. The team promised that once they were born you would be given 3 months to spend with your family but until then “there were still bad guys out there” in Tony's words of course.

You checked the time to see you still had a half an hour to spare before you had to be at the compound. You made Wanda breakfast and set it up next to her then you got ready for your day. You showered, got changed and before you left you wrote two sticky notes to leave on your wife’s mirror. One saying, “I love you more than chocolate chip cookies.” The second said, “You are looking like such a hot mama today.” You left a kiss on Wanda’s forehead and whispered an ‘I love you’ then you went to work.

Wanda woke later that morning with a smile on her face. She saw the breakfast you set up and immediately started eating because she was starving. After her breakfast in bed, she showered before seeing the notes you left. She actually laughed out loud. Even when you weren’t home you always made her day. She sent you a quick text.

Hi my love! Thank you so much for breakfast! I love you more than tv shows!

After that Wanda went about her day normally before she got bored and decided to go to the compound. When she arrived she saw Bucky and Sam watching tv.

“Hey boys,” Wanda said as she set her bag on the counter before walking over and sitting in between the two.

“Hey Wand, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bucky suddenly jumped into protective older brother mode.

“Sit.” Wanda ordered him, glaring at him. She appreciated the gesture, but she was pregnant and not handicapped.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky sat not wanting to make Wanda upset.

“Damn man, if she needs something she’ll tell us right?” Sam asked, turning to Wanda.

“Exactly thank you Sam.” They continued watching TV comfortably every once in a while bantering about something.

“Hey guys, where was y/n’s mission today? I usually hear from her by now if she’s going to be later than 6.” Wanda said realizing the time was now past 6 and she still hasn’t heard anything.

“I think they were in Florida today,” Bucky said, scratching his head trying to remember what Steve told them this morning. “Some mission with aliens that Carol warned them about. They’ll be fine. You’re welcome to stay here in your old room though.” He finished. Wanda thanked him before getting up to move to the kitchen, both men hot on her tail.

“Who is hungry?” Wanda asked as she started to get ingredients out for a caprese chicken dish and some pasta.

“Me, for sure. I missed your cooking so much Wanda.” Sam said, taking a seat at the counter pulling out his phone to que up some songs to listen to while you cooked. Dinner was good and shortly after Wanda went to bed in the now foreign space and begged for sleep to consume her. It was hard because she grew used to your arms wrapped around her with your face pressed into her hair. That night she didn’t get much sleep. She sent you a text letting you know she was sleeping at the compound before she rolled over and tried to shut her eyes.

The following morning Wanda woke up to a still empty bed. Now she started getting nervous, she searched for her phone to see no new messages. She took her time getting out of bed but quickly threw on the clothes she was wearing yesterday before heading to the kitchen.

As she was almost there she could hear Steve talking.

“So Wanda’s here?” Steve asked the person he was talking to.

“Yeah she came yesterday and we just told her to stay. So wait, you're telling me that these things just hit a button then poofed with Tony and y/n? Are they alive?” Wanda could now tell the other person was Bucky. She felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling the wind knocked out of her at the words she just heard. She couldn’t hide any longer and barged into the kitchen.

Her hands instantly went into a fighting position holding Steve in a tight grasp so he couldn’t escape.

“Where is she Steve? What happened? You promised me no life or death missions. You promised me she would always come back to me. She said she would never go away.” Wanda said while breaking towards the end and crumpling to the ground. Bucky went over and wrapped her in a hug.

After a few minutes Bucky put Wanda on the couch as now the rest of the team came in and Pepper with her two small children. Steve went over what happened on the mission and how they have no trace of either of their teammates. He made everyone aware that Thor, Carol, and the Guardians of the Galaxy were all in search of their friends.

Wanda felt so lost. Your twins were expected any day and you were gone. How was she going to do it if you weren’t back? How was she going to be strong for your two little ones if you weren’t there? The questions swarmed her head as she tuned out the rest of the team. After hours of talking the team now turned to their tuned out friend to offer some support.

“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked Wanda, putting his hand on her shoulder to ground her.

“I don't know.” Wanda shook her head still thinking a million miles a minute not making eye contact with anyone.

“Wanda you need to eat. You have two other people to worry about. Y/N will be ok, she will come back.” Steve said, sitting next to her. She collapsed in tears and that was how the rest of the night went, crying and the team forcing Wanda to eat.

The following days Wanda barely left the bed. On the 4th day of you being missing Wanda felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her eyes started to tear up from both pain and the realization of what was happening. She was going into labor without you. She screamed out in pain and heartbreak.

Steve rushed into the room as soon as he heard Wanda scream, “It’s ok Wanda we’re here, let's get you to the infirmary.” he held Wanda’s hand all the way down to the infirmary. Steve sent a text out to the rest of the team to let them know what was happening and soon familiar faces appeared in Wanda’s room.

They took shifts as they waited for the time to push. Natasha talked about the makeshift nursery they set up for Wanda, Bucky talked about how he got clothes for Wanda and the babies from Wanda’s home, Steve talked about schedules and shifts he made up to help Wanda, Sam bought stuffed animals, and Peter offered to take the babies to the playground. Wanda just sat and listened, grateful for her friends and the help they were giving her. All she could think about was how you should be there.

You should be freaking out everytime Wanda had a contraction, asking if she should get the doctor. She knew you would try to find her favorite shows on the TV and rub her back whispering soothing words. She needed that more than anything, she needed you. She needed you to be there for your twins first breath, for bringing them home, for the countless sleepless nights.

Soon the doctor entered the room, “Wanda it looks like you are ready to push,” nurses entered behind them with all of the equipment needed for the babies’ delivery. Wanda nodded trying to prepare herself for the experience that was moments away. “Would you like anyone in the room with you?” and Wanda did, she wanted you but you weren’t there. So she asked her best friend Nat to stay with her to which Nat agreed.

They got into position and Wanda endured the hardest fight of her life, childbirth. She could’ve sworn she broke Natasha’s hand from how hard she was squeezing. Soon a melodic sound broke through the pain as her first child was born. “It’s a boy!” she heard and she started to cry of joy. She had a son. The joy didn’t last as she felt another urge to push. “And we have another boy!”

Wanda was so relieved that both boys were here and healthy. You kept telling her that you could feel it was two boys, two football players, you would say. They brought the babies to wanda and laid them on her chest. Nat was quick to snap a quick photo before exiting the room to let the rest of the team know, giving Wanda a moment with her children.

Nat walked out of the room to see no one in the waiting room. She asked the nurse where everyone was who informed her that they were outside. She walked quickly outside hoping you were back. Instead she saw someone else. Tony on his hands and knees crying while the rest of the team was surrounding him.

“What? Where’s Y/N?” Bucky was the first to speak. Everyone was too scared to hear what happened, why Tony was back but not Y/n.

“I don’t know. One minute we were in a room being questioned the next thing I know y/n lunged at the guy questioning us. She was fighting with him for the poof thing. Then after she successfully got it we realized only one of us could go back while the other had to hit the button. She didn’t even give me a second. And now, now here I am and she is there. Where’s Wanda I have to tell her something?” Tony suddenly looked frantic.

“No, you’re going with Bruce to do everything you can to get Y/N back.” Clint said, poking Tony in the chest. “You are not doing anything else until she’s back. And you definitely are not seeing Wanda. That girl just had to give birth to twins without y/n, she’s destroyed.” Clint walked back into the infirmary while everyone was still in shock.

“I ‘m sorry. I ‘m going to bring her back.” Tony promised before walking towards the lab to get in contact with the people who were already searching for y/n.

Meanwhile Wanda was still in awe of the two boys in her arms, memorizing all of their features. She knew their names, you and her had picked out the names for all twin scenarios and for two boys it’d be Tommy and Billy. She started to hum a tune she remembered as a child. She started to get upset as she remembered the last time she hummed the song.

You had just walked in from a long day helping in the lab and training. You saw Wanda in the kitchen cooking dinner before turning to see you. She gave you the biggest smile as she came over to wrap her arms around you. Her pregnant stomach left some room between you two as she reached up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“How was your day my love?” she asked walking back to the stove to turn it off and putting the food on the table.

“I'm so tired. Tony was going on about this new feature he wants to make for the quinjet and then Nat beat my ass at training. I don't want to do anything.” Wanda sensing your mood guided you to the couch she sat then pulled you down so your head was on her lap. She played with your hair to calm you down.

“The babies were very active today kicking the heck out of me” she giggled to which you turned your face to her stomach. You placed your hands on her stomach.

“Hey you two, stop kicking mama. I know you want to play football but you're gonna have to wait till you come out of there.”

“How do you know they’ll want to play football?” She questioned you.

“I can just feel it in my bones.” You said as your eyes fluttered close. Dinner was long forgotten as Wanda continued to play with your hair humming the tune and you drifted off to sleep.

The following week after the twins’ birth was very hard for Wanda. She went through all the firsts by herself. Instead of going through the first night with you she went through it alone. Instead of bringing them home together with big smiles she took them to her room in the compound. Instead of introducing the twins to the team with you they were all by Wanda’s side before she could introduce them.

She spent the nights in bed. Someone on the team was always sleeping on a cot to help her during the nights. It had been 11 days since you went missing and you had already missed the biggest week of your little family’s life.

On the 11th day Wanda left the sleeping twins with a sleeping Uncle Bucky and roamed around the compound seeing you everywhere she went. In the kitchen where you both cooked dinner for the team all the time. On the couch where you spent countless nights watching tv shows and movies. In the training room where you pinned Wanda more times then she likes to admit. Then she headed towards the lab.

She stood shocked.

Right in front of her was a man that betrayed her. A man that you had put your life in the hands of who disappointed you. She stormed at him in a fit of rage. “You son of a bitch! Where is she? What did you do to her? I'm going to kill you!” Wanda screamed at him while hitting his chest. Tony let her, knowing that this was what she needed. Wanda continued to curse him out before Tony finally grabbed her hands.

“Stop. I get it. I'm the bad guy, and I deserve to be. I messed up the biggest moment of both of your lives. You can keep hitting me, knock me out, whatever you have to do. There is something I have to show you first though.” Tony let go of Wanda’s hands before walking to the screen to pull up a video for Wanda.

When it came through it was you. You were sitting in a bare room and Tony was asleep on the floor behind you. Your hair was a mess and you looked exhausted.

“Friday is it recording? Yes? Ok here we go. If anyone is watching this I probably did something stupid and I ‘m so sorry. If it’s Wanda hi babe. Man, I think it’s been 3 days and I miss you like crazy. I ‘m trying to figure out a way to get back to you and the babies I promise.” Wanda can feel the tears rolling down her face. “Well I think I have a plan. You aren’t going to like it but I promise you that it will all work out and I will come back to you. Babe I don't have much time they are coming back. I love you and our twins so much. I am going to do everything to come back to you.” Then the screen went black.

“Play it again, Tony.” Wanda asked Tony and he did. She watched it about 10 more times. Just hearing your voice made Wanda feel better.

“Thank you for showing me that. Can you send it to me?” Wanda asked, keeping her eyes locked on yours on the screen. Tony nodded and Wanda walked out of the room back to the twins.

After that day Wanda had hope. She knew you would come back to her. She watched that video every night on repeat to fall asleep too. She played it for the twins and other videos of you so they could hear your voice. The team noticed the change in Wanda as well. They were very skeptical but didn’t question her mood change.

After a month of you being missing Wanda had almost given up hope. Tommy was fussy and Billy had an explosion in his diaper and it was the first time the team had all gone on a mission so no one was with her. She was crying while changing Billy’s diaper while using her powers to rock Tommy’s baby seat.

“Ah boys, it’s ok mamas here. We’ll be ok sh sh sh.” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even get the diaper on Billy. There were a few more minutes of Tommy crying and Billy and now Wanda before she heard Tommy stop. She didn’t even turn around; she figured he just fell asleep.

When she turned with Billy in her arms she was shocked to see the person standing in front of her. It was the love of her life with her son. A sight Wanda never thought she would see. You looked skinnier, tons of bruises and cuts littered your skin. Your clothes were tattered and your hair was a mess in your face. Wanda thought you still looked just as beautiful. She had Billy in her arms as she slowly walked towards you not believing her eyes. She reached up and touched your face to make sure you were there. And you were.

With Tommy in one hand you reached up with your other to place on top of Wanda’s. “Hey there stranger.” You said with a chuckle. She wrapped her arm around you and started sobbing. You put Tommy in the bassinet still holding onto Wanda then reached for Billy placing him next to his brother. Then you did the thing you had been wanting to do forever.

You held onto Wanda as she sobbed in your arms. You stroked her hair while whispering “I’m here,” over and over in her ear.

Your arms were around Wanda but your eyes were on your twins. You soon began to cry, realizing how much time you missed. Wanda pulled away when she felt something drip on her shoulder.

“It’s ok my love you’re here now. You won’t miss anything else. You’re here.” Wanda promised with her hands on either side of your face to make you look at her. You leaned down and gave your love a long awaited kiss. Both of you being grateful to have the other there to comfort each other.

You soon pulled away from Wanda to look at your twins.

“I told you two football players.” You chuckled as you picked up the other baby who you have not held yet. “Who is who?”

“That’s Billy and this is Tommy.” She said while picking up the other baby. You both made your way to the bed with the twins and got comfortable next to each other. You stared at them trying to take in the two people who were now your own.

“I’m so sorry I missed all of it. I tried to get back as fast as I could. I really did. I thought when I sent Tony back it was going to be hours and I would be back. But I see metal man's mind isn’t what it used to be.” You rambled on. You wanted Wanda to know just how sorry you were.

“It’s ok. You’re here now and I’m not letting them take you anywhere. You’re staying with us for as long as I want.” Wanda assured you. You sat with your family for hours just basking in their presence and soaking it all in. You changed every diaper and did anything Wanda needed until she ordered you to go shower. While watching your 7th episode of grey's anatomy you dozed off with the babies between you and Wanda.

You only woke when you heard the rest of your rag tag group of friends enter the compound from their latest mission not even trying to be quiet. You turned to see Wanda still awake nursing Billy.

“Should we scare them?” You asked Wanda with a grin on your face. “You can if you want.” She didn’t feel one way or the other. Knowing how much the team helped her while you were missing.

You stood up and hid behind the closed door. It opened halfway.

“Hey Wanda how’d everything go?” Steve asked, you could feel multiple people enter the room however.

“Boo!” you jumped out to scare the team. Bucky not knowing it was you punched you in the stomach.

“Ah shit sorry y/n.” he said before recognition came to his eyes and the others. “Wait y/n?” he stared in disbelief. Nat was the first to tackle you in a hug before the others were soon to follow.

“How, how, how did you get back?” Tony asked with tears in his eyes.

“Well I thought you would figure it out quickly once I sent you back but that didn’t happen. I kept waiting and finally decided to just do it myself. I befriended another prisoner who promised to poof me back. And then when they did I was in the training room. I got Wanda’s text and just assumed she was still here and made my way up to her room.” They all said how happy they were that you were back. You ate dinner as a family and spent the night in your room with your beautiful wife and boys.

“Let’s go home tomorrow.” you suggested to your half asleep wife in your arms.

“You are my home.” she said and you felt warmth well up in your chest.

“I love you so much darling.” you nuzzled closer to her.

“I love you more.” and you both fell into a deep sleep which neither of you had had for a long time.

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argylesweedstash · 4 years

Text

did you just call me baby

(ao3 link)

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. At least, Dean’s banking on Castiel thinking it’s an accident. And it is, really. Dean fell onto the war room floor covered in black goo with his arms around Cas. Sam and Jack leapt up from the table, moving away from the intricate spellwork that no longer needed their attention.

Cas stirred a little. He’d been out of it when Dean had found him - half-lucid and mostly disbelieving. He’d let Dean pull him up and sling his arm around his shoulders, but hadn’t said much. Only mumbled apologies and words that sounded a lot like, “I hope this is real.”

Jack was first on the floor next to them. “Cas?” he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips. Cas nodded and within seconds, his arms were full of his son.

Dean watched them, a smile playing on his lips. When they broke apart, Sam offered Castiel his arm. Cas had looked at it before taking it and being pulled into a hug by the taller man.

Dean removed himself from the floor and helped Jack up. When Sam released Cas, Dean stepped in front of him.

“It’s real,” Dean said, looking into Cas’s eyes.

Cas nodded. “Thank you for saving me, Dean.”

Dean finally closed the distance between them and pulled Cas into a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you, baby,” Dean muttered against Cas. When he realized that he’d said baby instead of buddy, he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He removed himself from Cas and grinned sheepishly at the floor. There was a weird fluttering feeling in his chest. He wrote it off as the adrenaline that was still pumping through his veins.

Cas, for what it was worth, didn’t seem to notice the word. “I missed you, too, Dean.”

That was two weeks ago. Since then, Dean has been avoiding talking about it. Not just his slip, though, the things Cas had said to him before The Empty came and took him. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t feel the same way - he just didn’t know if he did or not. He likes Cas and he’s his best friend. He knows he likes spending time with him. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by how fond of his friend he is, but he doesn’t read too far into that.

Plus, things hadn’t changed between them. They still watched movies together in the Dean Cave a couple nights a week. Castiel would always come and join Dean in the garage when he was working on any of the cars they kept. Dean would greet him with a, “Good morning, Sunshine,” every morning from his place at the table. The only thing that had changed was that they didn’t have the end of the world looming over their heads. Honestly, this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. Getting Cas back meant that they’d tied up their loose ends and now they could relax. Of course Dean had never felt this happy, they’d never so resolutely saved the world like they did this time around.

Dean is sitting at the table, now, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. There were still monsters, there might still be a case somewhere. In the back of his head Dean knows he doesn’t really want to find a case. He’s been enjoying his time with Cas and Sam. He likes that the most pressing thing he has to worry about is whether or not the fridge is stocked. He knows Sam has been getting stir crazy, though. Maybe he’ll find a case and send Sam off, encourage him to get Eileen in on it.

The sound of footsteps draws Dean’s attention away from the laptop. Castiel pads into the room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s hand-me-down shirts, even though he hasvclothing of his own. Part of pulling Cas out of The Empty meant leaving his grace behind. Jack had been pretty clear - Cas’s grace was the reason Jack was unable to just pull him out. So, here Cas is, as human as Dean, wearing Dean’s shirt. A smile threatens to break on Dean’s face.

“What’re you up to?” Dean asks.

Cas turns to face him. Dean notices toothpaste stuck to the corner of Cas’s mouth, he must have just finished brushing his teeth.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Cas says. “I was going to make myself something. Are you hungry? I can make enough for two.”

Dean shakes his head. “Just ate,” he says. “You, uh -” He gestures vaguely at Cas’s mouth.

“I what?” Cas asks, tilting his head a little.

“Baby,” Dean starts as he gets up from his chair to walk over to Castiel. “You have some toothpaste. Right there.”

Cas stares at Dean, wide eyed. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes and grabs a napkin from the table. He wipes at Castiel’s mouth before he crumples the napkin and walks it over to the trash. Cas watches his movements.

“What?” Dean asks when he notices Cas staring at him. It’s not that he minds, Cas just looks a little lost.

Cas just shakes his head and puts a smile on his face. “Nothing. Thank you, Dean. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s part of being human, man. No worries,” Dean says, depositing himself back in his chair. “You gonna eat in here?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says, finally moving from where he was stopped.

Dean nods in his direction before he pats the chair next to him, smiling up at his friend. He returns to his research as Cas busies himself in the kitchen.

Two days later, Sam is gone to go after a nest of vamps and Eileen’s place just happens to be on the way there. Dean isn’t quite sure why Sam hasn’t just asked her to move in. He’s pretty sure Sam had refrained before because Dean had been a wreck with Cas gone. It was probably better for Dean and Eileen’s relationship that she hadn’t seen him like that. But now, there was no reason for her not to be here. She was family, after all.

Dean knocks on Cas’s door, ending his stream of thoughts. Dean was kind of bored and he hadn’t taken Cas anywhere but the supermarket since they’d brought him back. And, come to think of it, Dean couldn’t remember the last time just he and Cas had gone out for drinks.

Cas answers the door already dressed. “Dean. I was actually coming to look for you.”

“Well, I found ya first,” Dean says, putting an easy smile on his face. “Was gonna see if you wanted to come grab a drink with me. Looks like you’re going somewhere, though.” He didn’t want to press, but where on earth could Cas be going? It wasn’t like he really knew anyone around here outside of Sam and Dean. And if someone they knew was in town, why hadn’t Dean heard of it?

The ends of Cas’s lips turn up slightly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and beams at Castiel. “It’s a date, then. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at Baby.”

Cas nods at Dean’s retreating figure and mumbles, “It’s a date,” before shutting his door to walk to the car.

Dean meets him there a few minutes later. “Had to grab my keys,” he says, holding them up for Cas to see.

The drive to the bar passes in comfortable silence, Cas staring out the window at the passing buildings. Dean drums his fingers on his steering wheel. He glances to Cas a few times; he almost can’t believe Cas is really back. He’d been gone for two months. Dean had spent most of that time frantically reading through every lore book and the rest drinking until he couldn’t remember the pain. It had been Jack that finally suggested opening the rift and leaving Cas’s grace behind. Dean had been ready to go almost immediately.

Now that Castiel was back, Dean felt better than he had in years. A warm feeling had settled over him after they fell through the rift and it stayed around. Whenever he was with Cas he could only describe the we he felt as “content.” Like now, for example, he could drive all night like this and be pleased with the way he spent his evening.

They pull in and Dean holds the door to the bar open so Cas can walk through. “Grab us a table and I’ll get drinks,” he says, clapping his hand over his shoulder and walking past him to the bar.

He gets the bartender’s attention pretty quickly. “Hey, Lynn. Slow night?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes at him and pushes a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. “It’s a Wednesday, what do you expect?” She gives a little chuckle and leans against the bar. “Where’s your brother?”

“Sammy’s with his girlfriend. Won’t be back for a few days,” Dean says easily. “Left me alone with Cas over there.”

Lynn looks past him at Castiel, who is seated at a booth in the corner. He’s looking around the mostly empty bar, seemingly taking in the neon signs advertising different kinds of alcohol. He’s wearing one of Dean’s flannels, Dean realizes belatedly.

“He’s cute,” Lynn says. She turns her attention back to the man in front of her. “What can I get for you two?”

“Two beers,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “And two shots of your top shelf whiskey.”

She grins. “Celebrating something?”

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Dean says. “He, uh.” He looks for the words. “Just got back from a work trip. Gone for a couple of months.” That sounds like a good cover.

“I bet he’s happy to be home,” Lynn says, setting the beers in front of Dean before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf behind her. “You seem happy that he’s back.”

It’s Dean’s turn to grin. “I’m freaking thrilled. Dude’s my best friend.”

Lynn slides the now filled shot glasses toward Dean. “Want a tray to carry all that?”

Dean doesn’t get to answer before she’s sliding a tray toward him. “You need a tray,” she says, putting the drinks onto it. “I know you were going to try to carry all this over there without one.”

Dean thanks her and slides the tray onto his left arm, steadying it with his right hand. He turns toward the booth Cas is in and flashes him a smile while he lifts the tray slightly, indicating the beverages.

“That my shirt?” he says when he gets to the table. He sets a beer and a shot down in front of Cas.

Cas looks down at the flannel and then back at Dean in a way Dean can only describe as bashful. “Yes. It must have gotten mixed in with my laundry. I can return it, if you want.”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.” Dean picks his shot up and motions for Cas to do the same. “We’re celebrating, Cas.”

Cas picks up his shot and looks at Dean curiously. “What are we celebrating?”

“You’re back!”

Cas smiles warmly. “I am,” he nods. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, Sam and Jack helped,” Dean says, grinning.

“To humanity,” Cas says, raising the shot.

“To humanity,” Dean echos before taking the shot.

Cas makes a face after he downs his and raises his beer to his lips to chase the taste away.

“You’ve not had a drink since you got back,” Dean remarks, watching Cas take a few long drinks from the bottle.

“You haven’t either,” he replies.

Dean contemplates the statement. “Really?” He takes a sip of his beer. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

They both know that isn’t really true. Dean’s only been engaging in leisurely activities, he’s just not been drinking during them. He wonders for a moment why that might be. It’s probably because he doesn’t have any pain he needs to ignore, he thinks.

“Your tolerance is going to be shit.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m a cheap date.”

Dean looks at him for a moment before laughing. Cas gives him a genuine smile before returning to his beer.

Several beers later, Dean cuts himself off. Someone has to drive home and Cas is more than a little giggly on the bench across from him. He takes a sip of his third beer and gives Dean a measured look.

“What?” Dean asks, putting a soft smile on his face. “See something you like?”

“Yes,” Cas says.

Dean grins back at him. There’s a tug somewhere in his chest, but he ignores it. “Anything on your mind?”

Cas just looks at Dean, clearly deep in thought. “Not really, no.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Want another?”

Cas’s beer is still half full. “Another what?”

“Another drink. Or another shot.”

“Another shot might be nice, actually.”

Dean smiles at him. “That’s my boy. I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the bar and waits for Lynn to walk over to him.

“Two more?” she asks.

“Just another shot,” Dean says. “I’m driving but huggy bear over there can have whatever he wants.”

Lynn shakes her head and pours another. “You two been together long? I haven’t seen him in here.”

Dean blinks back at her and then looks down at the shot. “Actually we, uh, we haven’t talked about… that. Being together.”

She frowns at Dean and he takes a breath. He hadn’t been avoiding it, really. He and Cas had just fallen back into their comfortable rhythm.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, does he?” Lynn asks. She looks a little sad now.

“I guess he doesn’t,” Dean says thoughtfully.

“You should tell him.”

Dean looks up at her.

“Not tonight, though. He should probably be sober.”

Dean nods and grabs the shot. “Thanks, Lynn.”

He sets the shot down across from Cas when he gets back to the table. “For you.”

Cas downs the shot as Dean settles back down across from him. “What were you two talking about?”

Dean stares at Cas. He knows he shouldn’t lie but if he says anything Cas may actually want to talk about his feelings and Dean isn’t ready for that. He doesn’t really have words and he’s not even sure he’s fully processed Cas’s confession yet. And, Lynn was probably right. Cas should be sober for that particular conversation.

“Sam,” Dean lies easily. “This is where we come for drinks. Neither of us have been by in a while.”

Cas accepts the lie and sips from his beer before starting a conversation about Jack and the prospect of weekly family dinners.

By the time Cas had finished his beer the shot he’d taken seems to hit him. “Dean.”

“Cas.”

“I’d like another shot.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can get it.”

Cas frowns at Dean before swinging his legs to the end of the booth to pull himself out. He pushes himself up on the table and wobbles a little before Dean is up and at his side, steadying him.

“When you don’t stand it hits you all at once,” Dean explains. He’s gripping Cas’s bicep and shoulder.

“I know how drinking works, Dean. I spend all my time with you.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat. “How about we get you home?”

“Can I drink there?”

Dean turns Cas to face him fully. “Hell yeah, you can.”

“You’ll be drinking, too?”

“Well, yeah. I won’t have to drive us anywhere. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Dean walks Cas to the Impala and deposits him in the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be right back, baby. I have to pay the tab.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment before opening and promptly closing his mouth.

“I’ll leave the door open in case you hurl. And I’ll get a bag from Lynn.”

Dean returns to see Cas has closed the door and is currently slumped against it, sleeping. He rolls his eyes and drives him home, careful to avoid the bumps on the road. When they get home, he shakes Cas awake.

“‘Morning, Sunshine.”

“It’s not morning, Dean,” Cas replies groggily.

“Nope,” Dean says, leaning over to pull Cas out of the car. “Let’s get you to your room.”

They make their way through the bunker slowly. Dean sits Cas down and gets him out of his shoes and, after a brief moment of hesitation, his jeans. Once he’s gotten Cas under the blankets, he gets a glass of water from the kitchen and a few tylenol from the bottle he has stashed in his room.

“Alright,” he says, setting everything down on Cas’s night stand. “Take the tylenol when you wake up. You’re probably going to be hungover. And drink some water, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” says the Cas sized lump under the covers.

“Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I’m right down the hall.”

Dean turns to leave but Cas makes a noise. Dean turns back around.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Dean. I had fun.”

Dean smiles. “I had fun, too. Get some sleep, baby.”

He flicks out Cas’s lights and reminds himself to stop calling Cas buddy. The dude loves him and Dean’s probably making it hurt or something. Plus, he’d accidentally called him baby when he’d first gotten back from The Empty. Dean’s probably sending him mixed signals. He shuts the door behind him and walks to his room; he knows he should probably figure out what to say to Cas. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that meant poking at that warm, fluttery feeling that seemed to be permanently in his chest.

Sam returns from the hunt a week later. He assures Dean it was an easy hunt and that he and Eileen hadn’t needed any help. He also admits to spending a few days with Eileen after they’d taken out the nest.

“How is she, anyway?” Dean asks, handing a beer to Sam and setting one on the end table next to Cas. They’d been watching old western’s in the Dean Cave when Sam got home. Cas had wanted to spend the day watching movies and Dean had agreed on the condition that he got to pick the movie.

“She’s good. She misses you two,” Sam answers.

“Tell her to get her ass out here,” Dean says. “She’s family at this point, man. She should be here, anyway. It would make hunts easier.”

Sam shook his head, smiling. “That’s the first hunt I’ve been on since we beat Chuck. You still haven’t been out.”

“Hey, I’m keeping Cas company. He’s still newly human,” Dean argues.

“You could go hunt if you want, Dean. I’m capable of taking care of myself. I don’t mind,” Cas says from the couch. Dean looks over at him and shakes his head.

“Nah, you’ve been back less than a month. We gotta make sure you have your sea legs before I go anywhere, baby.”

The words left his mouth effortlessly. Sam and Cas just stared at him for a second before Sam coughed.

“It’s great seeing you guys but I’m going to go shower and pass out for a few hours,” he says before making a quick exit toward his room.

“Fine, Sammy. We didn’t want to hang out with you, anyway,” Dean shoots back before collapsing onto his side of the couch.

He hits play on the movie and settles in. He has his own bottle of beer pressed to his lips when Cas speaks.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” he replies, lowering the bottle from his lips.

Cas is quiet for a moment. “Why do you keep calling me ‘baby’?” he asks carefully.

Dean stares back at him. “I only called you that once,” he says, on guard now. Had it slipped out again? He didn’t think it had but now he’s not so confident. He sets his beer bottle down.

“No, you’ve done it five times.” So, it had slipped out again. More than once. “You did just now before Sam left.”

Dean is silent, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t even realized it had come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally decides, lowering his gaze from Cas’s stare for a brief moment.

“I don’t mind it,” Cas says quietly. He’s looking somewhere to the left of Dean, his eyes occasionally flickering to Dean’s face. “I thought you were doing it on purpose, is all.”

Dean can’t seem to form a fully coherent thought. He knows he needs to say something - mention Cas’s confession, maybe. But he doesn’t have the words for that yet. Instead he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want you to do it on purpose,” Cas says, looking down. Dean can see the beginnings of pink on the top of his ears. He’s overwhelmed with an ache somewhere in his chest.

Dean doesn’t know why, but he slides in close to Cas. He reaches his hand out and lifts his chin so their eyes meet. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, softly. The fluttering in his chest is more insistent now.

He hears Cas’s breath hitch. Cas closes and opens his eyes before saying. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his hand still resting on Cas’s chin.

“Will you kiss me?”

Before Dean registers what he’s doing, he nods and ducks his head in. The kiss is chaste and quick but Cas leans in and responds gently. When they break, there’s a soft smile on Cas’s face.

“Cas,” Dean says, moving his hand to Cas’s cheek. “I, uh. I need to talk to you about. About what you said. Before you… Ya know.”

“When I told you I loved you?” Cas supplies, his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah,” Dean says, chuckling lightly. “I. I think I do, too. I just haven’t -”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean. You know that.”

Dean brings his mouth gently back to Cas’s and kisses him again. This time just a little longer, his other hand finding Cas’s waist.

“It was just so easy when you got back,” Dean says when he pulls away. He tries to find any string of words that expresses how he feels. “I didn’t think I needed to say anything but…”

Cas stares at Dean, encouraging him to keep going. Dean can feel his face heating up.

“Lynn asked how long we’d been together,” he says, lamely. “The bartender,” he adds.

“I didn’t get to meet her but I remember her name.”

Dean smiles at him and takes a breath before speaking. “And I told her we hadn’t talked about it. And she looked really sad. I realized I do need to say something.”

They’re silent for a moment and then Dean says. “Holy shit. That was a date.”

Cas looks confused. “You told me it was a date.”

“I did?”

“Yes. When I said yes to going with you, you said ‘it’s a date.’” Cas says.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s… It’s an expression, Cas,” he says. Then, “But, uh, that was a date. I think.”

“Dean. Did you want it to be a date?” Cas asks. His voice is lined with both patience and amusement.

Dean pauses for a minute before saying, “Yeah. That was our first date.” He leans in and presses another kiss to Cas’s mouth.

Cas kisses back and then pulls away a little. “Would you like to go on a second date?”

Dean makes a show of thinking. He hums lightly.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. I do,” he places a kiss on the side of Cas’s mouth before he drops his hand. “I, uh, I don’t really know what to say but… You can have me, if you want. You’re just going to have to work with me. I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cas says.

Dean places a kiss on Cas’s cheek before he turns back to the TV and starts the movie. Cas reaches across to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers in the space between them.

“Hey, baby?”

Cas’s head pops up in response to the pet name, there’s a faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Dean?”

“I love you.”

Cas beams at him before replying, “I love you, too.”

Dean turns his head back toward the TV but spends a better part of the rest of the movie sneaking glances at Cas. He indulges the warm feeling in his chest, even if he doesn’t quite have the words for everything yet.

#supernatural #destiel #destiel fanfic #spn #mine #bye this was inspired by a post I made because im a monster!#my writing #my fic

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youngbugandtonystank · 4 years

Note

what's the difference between what wanda did to those people in wandavision and what tony did with ultron?

I have so many asks about this. Hate asks, and people wondering what’s going on. This is the only one I’m answering.

Both of them are responsible for their actions. I’ve seen people try and take away either Tony’s responsibility for that or Wanda’s engagement and accountability.

In Tony’s case, the Ultron program was supposed to be a global peacekeeping program to protect the people, acting as a suit around the world to prevent events like the Battle of New York. He was doing it in the name of peace and safety. Tony was rightfully scared because he was the only one who knew what was coming. Wanda intentionally enhanced that fear in him and this drove him to create Ultron with Bruce. He has responsibility for it. Same as Bruce. He owns up to this, he took full responsibility and agreed that they needed to be regulated.

Tony Stark: A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA... and then Ultron. My fault.

Tony Stark: There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.

Tony Stark: That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.

If people think he needs to be in jail for it, then I’m guessing the rest of the Avengers too since all of them have made mistakes and killed people too. As a matter of fact, after the events of Wandavision, I’m sure that Wanda should be in the Raft, but because she’s ‘a poor baby’ yall won’t think she deserves that.

SPOILERS

It’s a big possibility that we don’t have all the info about what happened in Wandavision but we’re going to go with what we know so far.

In Wanda’s case, she did it to appease her grief and pain, and I can understand why she would get to that point, she’s been through a lot and maybe she was about to lose her mind. Instead of recruiting Wanda after the Sokovia incident, they should’ve given this girl treatment for her mental health problems. She just lost her brother and passed through a very traumatic war zone, of course she needs assistance. Cap and Natasha were the ones responsible for her because they were training the ‘new’ avengers. Sam was with them and he used to be a counselor to veterans with PTSD. He could’ve helped Wanda with some of her traumas. As shown in the series, Wanda did the whole hex business before meeting Agatha, which means creating that little reality was all Wanda’s responsibility. Hayward and Agatha did exactly what Wanda did to Tony (and the avengers/other people) in AOU. They manipulated her and played with her emotional traumas. Hayward showed her Vision’s body parts and Agatha started to pull strings to know how Wanda did what she did and her real powers while orchestrating against her.

Both of them have made mistakes. No one is better than the other. I don’t understand why some fans want to make someone responsible more than the other or blame one character for the other. While Wanda gave Tony that vision and pushed his self-destructive side to obsess over saving the world, he did create Ultron, what Tony didn’t predict was that the robot was going to corrupt itself. Same with Wanda, while Agatha and Hayward contributed to her trauma, she held hostage and isolated 3,892 people to create her perfect reality, ripping these people away from their identities and free will to fit her own fantasy. Don’t turn this into ‘omg poor her, it’s Tony fault that she’s this way'. I can’t believe I have to repeat this but you don’t see Peter Parker obsessively looking for the person who manufactured the gun instead of the criminal who actually killed Uncle Ben. Ridiculous that I have to repeat this example.

Oh and about Vision’s body (damn yall have a gift to turn everything into Tony’s fault for some reason). I can’t believe some of you think Tony (while grieving for 5 years) would give Vision to Hayward. You’re either pulling stuff out of your asses or you didn’t pay attention to the show. Maria Rambeau founded and was the Director of S.W.O.R.D. In 2018 (when IW happened), this is where she came up with a new policy within S.W.O.R.D. to ground snapped agents in case they ever returned. Maria was diagnosed with cancer, then two years later (2020), she passed away. Then, Hayward was promoted to Director of S.W.O.R.D., in his first years (2020-2022) he refocused the organization’s work from extraterrestrial operations to robotics, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, etc. There, that was the 5 years. Then in 2023 it’s when he started project Cataract, which revolved around rebuilding Vision as a sentient weapon. Tony was dead when this happened. How come yall don’t get this part? I don’t understand, do you really think his dead corpse signed some papers to give Vision to those people? LMAO

Instead of thinking Tony would give up Vision just like that, think (possibilities):

Maria was the head of S.W.O.R.D., she might have just been keeping his body safe without doing anything with him. Maybe she trusted Hayward and he, obviously, betrayed her because he’s turning her organization into something else after her death.

One of the Sokovia Accords regulations states that the use of technology to bestow individuals (the term ‘enhanced individual’ in this book is defined as any person, human or otherwise, with superhuman capabilities) with innate capabilities is strictly regulated by the government, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology. Vision signed those accords ('I'm saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight...oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand’) The Avengers were no longer be a private organization and they operate under the supervision of the United Nations. This means they (UN) were the ones that referred Vision’s body to S.W.O.R.D., to a trustworthy leader, Maria.

Vision died in Wakanda, not in New York. Tony was missing for 22 days after the snap, the rest of the avengers should’ve taken responsibility for his body.

Why is it always Tony’s fault but never consider that other parties are also involved in this?

I want to address some other asks with this one. I know some of you are angry because people are starting to blame Tony all over again, so a few things to remember:

Tony did not create the Accords. The Accords were the result of all the collective actions the Avengers have done in their superhero careers. All of them have made mistakes and the collateral damage of that was taken into consideration by the government and 117 countries around the world. He signed the accords because he knew that he could amend them with the support of the rest of the avengers and he knew about Thanos (something big was coming).

Obadiah Stane (it’s so bizarre for me seeing that some people don’t know who this guy is, I’m guessing that the people who are watching Wandavision are too young to remember or didn’t watch the Iron Man movies at all which is highly probable) was the one selling weapons to the wrong people, not Tony. Obadiah was the CEO of Stark industries and became second-in-command for two decades. He grew jealous of Tony and began cooperating with the Ten Rings in Afghanistan, selling them Stark Industries weapons illegally. Imagine blaming all of it on Tony when Obadiah basically murdered thousands only because he felt a little green. If someone who you trust (he had no reasons to doubt Obadiah since he was like a second father-figure for him) does something behind your back (take into consideration that people like Pepper; who was Tony’s assistant and had knowledge of all of Tony’s activities and responsibilities, Rhodey; who was the liaison between the military in the department of acquisitions and Stark Industries, and Happy Hogan; who was his personal bodyguard and Head of Security of Stark Industries, didn’t know what Stane was doing either), how are you going to know about it? Tony trusted him. And when he realized what was going on he immediately stopped all of it. He worked hard to be better and people overlook that because they want other characters to look better.

Don’t act like Tony was the only one assisting the military. All of the avengers assisted in one way or another. Natasha (who used to be an assassin) was in the Red Room, trained in the Black Widow Program in association with Leviathan and the Soviet Armed Forces, served for KGB, etc. Bruce Banner used to work for the United States government and was commissioned to create a super serum for them. Same goes with the rest, Sam, Clint, etc. Steve Rogers was a soldier lmaoooooooooooooo like, what happened to Tony with Obadiah happened to Steve with SHIELD/HYDRA in TWS. He trusted the people working in there (SHIELD), served for them, did missions for them and as soon as he found out what they were doing behind his back he turned against them.

Knowing all of this, how is Tony always the villain for yall? I’m guessing because Tony’s popularity in the MCU, but still, aren’t yall tired of not understanding the plot and having people repeat it to you constantly? Watch the movies if you want to understand the franchise, people. Stop following the crowd.

Also, Wanda is not a kid, she’s a 35 year old woman in Wandavision, she was 26 in AOU and 27 in CW. Hardly a child. Tony had almost her same age (38) when he realized Obadiah was selling illegal weaponry behind his back. The only reason people don’t fully forgive Tony is because 1. he’s a man and 2. he’s a billionaire. Even if Wanda was poor she still killed and hurt many people over the course of her life. Stop trying to make Tony the villain only to downplay Wanda’s actions.

Both have killed people, both have made mistakes. They’re both responsible for them.

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #vision #tony stark #avengers #marvel #mcu #this is the only ask I'm answering about this #exhausting

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Stabbed

This was written following an anon request that read as follows:

Hello sweetie, can I please request a dean x reader one shot in which she gets stabbed during a rough hunt and it's a race against time to save her (maybe Sam is the one driving and dean gets in the backseat with her?) And dean is scared of losing her and he has a panic attack after she wakes up but she manages to calm him down?

Obviously everyone’s experiences with panic attacks are different, but I tend to think if Dean had one it might manifest more externally as a violent outburst; I think he would subconsciously feel like it’s a more acceptable way to express ~freaking the fuck out~. This fic is sort of loosely set during early season 3, partly because that contextualization made sense to me with what you were describing and partly because I feel like that tenderhearted, slightly-less-jaded Dean would be more likely to allow himself to be perceived as vulnerable in such a fraught moment.

I’ve also taken a couple liberties with the medical situation described for literary purposes. 😋 Don’t @ me, I know this isn’t exactly how hypovolemic shock plays out.

Title: Stabbed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4206

Summary: Dean’s anxiety gets the best of him when the reader appears fatally injured on a hunt, and is soothed only after the danger is gone.

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence, description of panic attack, swearing

Sam slammed the door once Dean had hauled you into the backseat, propping you up like a mannequin next to him on the bench. Your vision was starting to fade in and out, but the sense memory of the muscles in Dean’s side and the leather seat underneath you were comforting anyway. It seemed like the car started flying before Sam had even closed the driver’s side door and you tried hard to focus on Dean’s babbling.

“You’ll be able to give me shit about this one forever, right, kid? Should’ve listened to you, you said they would’ve left the barn by the time we got there. Always so smart, when am I going to learn?” He was trying to chuckle but it came out breathy and wrong, Dean never quite able to actually hit the casual affect he wanted in moments like this. Honestly, it made you more nervous, knowing that for injuries he wasn’t worried about he wanted to look over you with clinical precision, chastise you for being careless. He only did this pretend calm when he was trying to keep it together—you used to think it was only for you or Sam but after a few years and more than a few bad scares you started to understand it for the defense mechanism it truly was. Not that you needed extra evidence that this was bad; you could feel the life leeching out of you like a water balloon with a pinprick leak.

“Hey, come on—open your eyes for me, lemme see those stunners,” he said, guiding your chin up where you had begun to slump onto his shoulder. “Perfect, yeah, just like that. Hey, stay with me—”

You mustered up everything you had to swim to the surface of the sleep-darkness your body so desperately wanted and straightened your spine to take a deep breath. Bad idea, the wounds in your side feeling like they were splitting you clean in half even through the haze. At least it woke you up for a moment to catch Dean’s eyes, fiery with panic even as he tried to smile.

“Dean, I—” you started, feeling like your throat was full of broken glass.

“Babe, don’t try to talk, it’s okay, you can tell me whatever it is when we get to a hospital.”

Sam turned his head away from the rural highway the Impala was absolutely sailing down to look back at his older brother. “We’re hours away from a hospital, we’ve gotta go back to the motel,” he said, low and serious.

“If we’re hours away from a hospital then I guess we’re driving for a couple hours, aren’t we, Sammy?” Dean was getting worse and worse at covering the hard edge of fear-driven anger in his voice as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean, we—she’s—we don’t have a couple hours.”

Dean closed his eyes tight and set his jaw firm. “We’re going to a fucking hospital.”

His brother swerved deftly around a giant pothole, somehow able to turn the wheel so slightly that the car’s path barely changed. “Listen to me. She can’t bleed like that for long enough to get to a hospital. We have to try to handle this one ourselves or there’s no chance—”

The whole conversation felt like it was happening to someone else, your senses starting to detach from your body, and you couldn’t hold onto those trains of thought for long enough to process them. You were forced to expend all the energy you had on what you needed to say, and reached for Dean’s hand with a weak grip.

“Dean, look at me.”

He sounded like a hurt puppy when he said, “please,” and you knew he was asking you not to make him listen but you were worried you were out of options, out of time. That frantic smile looked almost crazed as it started to quiver on his face, eyelashes clumping with moisture.

“Sam, can you hear me too?” you asked, frustrated in an abstract way at how frail your voice sounded.

He gave one tight nod in the rearview mirror with a jaw set firm as iron, and when he said “Yes—yeah,” it was choked.

“I love you idiots so much. These last—ow, Jesus—however many years have been some of the most fun I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. Sam, I—you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I—fuck,” you winced, something about the breath you took to keep from crying sending an electric jolt of pain through you and doubling you over.

“It’s okay, I know,” Sam said up into the rearview mirror, and you couldn’t tell if the way the headlights were falling on the trees impossibly fast was something about your sight being distorted, because if it wasn’t then you were surprised the Impala hadn’t broken some kind of land speed record. You made a mental note to tell Dean to start drag racing before remembering you might not tell him anything ever again. What you were nearly positive you weren’t imagining were the break in Sam’s voice or the reflection of tears on his cheek as he locked eyes with you in the mirror.

By the grace of whatever higher power the Winchesters were on the good side of at the time, you connected with him in the reflection, were able to absorb some fraction of the bone-crushing, pick-you-up-off-your-feet hug you wanted so badly from Sam in that moment. You tried to be thankful for what you got and drifted back to Dean’s gaze.

“And Dean, baby,” you continued, some bizarre flutter of second wind giving you enough force to clench your hand tightly around his and remember to keep your breaths shallow, keep talking even if your eyes couldn’t quite focus. “This was not your fault, you gotta—promise—me you know it wasn’t.”

“I, ah—” he faltered, throat vibrating as he tried to keep the inevitable tears down.

You gripped his hand tighter, felt your fingers going numb, and tried to smile hoping it didn’t look too grotesque on a face almost certainly drained of lifelike color. “C’mon, gotta obey a last wish, right?” The grief-stricken chuckle of surprise that dark joke punched out of Dean opened the floodgates, and tears burst forward to stream down his face. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

You’d thought of some goofy punchline to try to give, some ‘no sleeping with random girls for at least a year, want you guys to pour one out for me every day’ bullshit but seeing the love and pain in Dean’s eyes as your vision came in and out zapped it away. “I love you baby. I just—thank you for—everything—and—”

It was getting too hard to take even those shallow breaths, your hearing gone fuzzy around the edges, and the last thing you remembered was seeing a streetlight on the edge of town as Dean took your face in his hands, “I know, kid, I know, come on—please,” fading out like he was being zipped away through a long tunnel.

You were completely motionless in Dean’s arms, pulse gone thready enough that Dean was having a hard time finding it through the rumble of the car.

“Fuck, Sam, FUCK!” Dean screamed, one hand wrapped up in the hair at the back of your neck as he fought desperately to keep you upright.

Sam muscled through the lump in his throat and tried to stay focused. “When we get there you need to be ready to go, okay, Dean? HEY, listen to me. Don’t quit on me like this,” he barked, trying to catch his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror without taking his focus off the road, terrified at the speed of the Impala and the potential of repeating what had happened the last time he’d had someone he loved bleeding out in the backseat.

The car skittered around two corners and Sam prayed as hard as he had ever prayed for anything that there weren’t any Keystone cops looking to meet their month’s ticket quota by hanging around dark parking lots with radar guns, willed Dean to stop punching the window of the car with the hand that wasn’t clutching your head to his chest. He couldn’t decide if he thought it would’ve been better to have Dean drive, if he would’ve been able to hold it together any better than Dean was right now, if Dean could’ve focused if he was driving and not feeling you drift in his arms. There wasn’t time to figure it out and it ultimately didn’t matter, his brother turning into a bomb in the backseat and Sam needed to figure out a way to funnel Dean’s sheer panic back into the denial that would fuel him to keep moving, do anything to keep you alive, regardless of whether there was any hope left.

“It’s not over, you’ve gotta keep it together. She needs you. See, we’re right around—"

But he didn’t get to finish through the flurry of action as he pulled into the motel. He careened the Impala straight up to the door of the room, more than half of the car parked over a strip of grass intended to make the nondescript building feel more homey. By the time he’d torn the keys from the ignition Dean was practically leaping out of the backseat, carrying you into the room a quarter step after Sam half-busted the door open, laying you on a bed and tearing your t-shirt off with his bare hands like a cheap wrestling gimmick.

Sam didn’t bother closing the motel door, moving too fast to care as he ripped a cork out of whiskey bottle with his teeth and poured it all over your now-exposed side, grimacing with nausea at the way it didn’t make you draw back in pain even a little. Dean tried his best to thread a needle with floss and remember whether it was better or worse that the blood was still flowing fast and bright red out of those stab wounds rather than slowing or oxidizing—this is bush league shit Dad pounded in years ago why can’t I remember fucking any of it? His hands shook with too much adrenaline to get the floss through the needle but Sam was already working on patching the biggest wound, tying knots with the rapid precision of a surgeon.

It was only when he started getting in Sam’s way that the younger Winchester said anything more, encouraged that Dean was at least trying to pull himself together. He began talking through the stitches, muttering when he had to pull one tight with his teeth.

“We—Dean, look at me.” Sam drilled into him with those brackish eyes, struggling to maintain the appearance of being in control that his brother needed of him when he could feel you going cold underneath his fingertips. “We’re going to need to give her a lot of fluids when she wakes up; all we have is beer. Go get some stuff for her to drink—electrolytes, she’ll need electrolytes.”

“I’m not going to fucking leave, asshole!” Dean was strung out and not even pretending to hide it anymore, voice taking on that juvenile squeak Sam had only heard a handful of times since Dean was a teenager.

He took a deep breath in an effort to soothe himself before speaking as clearly and firmly to Dean as possible, no room for negotiation. “Dean. This is not helping. The best thing you can do for her is to go get some fluids. Gatorade, OJ, bananas too, if they have them. She’ll need iron but we can deal with other food once she wakes up.”

“What if she doesn’t—” Dean half-moaned, sounding like he’d been struck by something that was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs, looking like he was on the last ten feet of a hundred-mile race.

“She’s going to wake up.”

And Sam’s stubbornness actually did help Dean a bit in that moment, knowing that even if his life was about to change radically, that never would. “Go get some fucking Gatorade.”

By the time Dean came back—arms filled with so many bags of sports drinks that it would be comical in any other context—his brother had stitched up every wound, cleaned off most of the blood, and put all your limbs atop high stacks of pillows in an attempt to get as much blood to your vital organs as possible. Dean was near catatonic with the singular focus of a task, which was Sam’s intention. One thing at a time.

After about five minutes of sitting alongside Sam watching you, thick, viscous panic bubbled back up to the surface.

At first, he was muttering like he was talking to himself. “She told me, she fucking told me they wouldn’t be in the barn anymore, I didn’t listen. I should’ve been right behind her, Sam, what the fuck was I thinking—she was—she—she was alone, they wouldn’t have—” and then the way his voice built to a fever pitch matched his body, Dean perched on the mattress like a sailboat in a tempest, slammed against invisible waves of panic.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean. You couldn’t have known—”

“She was alone against five of them, Sam, do you get that? I left her fucking ALONE!” Dean wailed, springing forward from the bed with eruptive energy and bashing the nightstand lamp hard enough that its base shattered against the opposite wall, coming clean out of the socket as easily as if it hadn’t been plugged in. Sam flinched but didn’t get up, instead taking a quick visual inspection that no shards of ceramic somehow bounced back to cut your still body. By the time he glanced up again he only had a millisecond to react as Dean threw a chair from the kitchenette against the wall, exploding the mirror there into shimmering beads of glass and ricocheting back, forcing Sam block it with a forearm lest it hit him or you.

“DEAN, enough!” he yelled, crossing over to his brother with a few powerful strides and grappling with him, battling to keep Dean still as the older of the Winchester brothers fought to destroy the room to match the chaos in his mind. Sam knew exactly what was going on, the way Dean’s brain converted fear to rage, but hated when his brother got like this, not only because it cut so deep to see him in pain but because the explosiveness was so similar to the knock-down drag-outs they’d grown up with, made it impossible to try to fix the root of the problem.

Sam tackling Dean to the ground was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

“Do I pull this shit when you guys are sleeping?” you croaked from the mattress, trying to sit up and immediately abandoning that plan, stilling yourself and holding your breath until the pain settled a fraction.

Sam and Dean scrambled to get to their feet and ran over to you, hovering over the bed looking like their backs had a light dusting of glitter rather than a million tiny shards of glass.

“What’re—are you okay? What do you remember?” Sam blurted out, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade out of a plastic bag and cracking it open for you. He snatched a pillow and helped you sit up slowly, jamming it under your head so you could drink.

“Well, I’ve definitely felt better,” you tried to chuckle, but the tension it caused in your abdominal muscles made you wince. “I’m really sorry, you guys, I shouldn’t have—” you began, immediately stopped by the way Sam and Dean shook their heads, sucked on their teeth.

“I’m—ah,” Sam started, smiling self-deprecatingly through the shake in his voice and looking down at the ground for a beat with his tongue in his cheek. It was like his body knew that the worst of the crisis had passed and refused to let him hide his emotions for one second further. After a second he met your eyes again, faintest hint of tears in his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re up.”

Behind him, Dean collapsed into himself, his expression simultaneously complete relief and like he’d seen a ghost. You peered around Sam to meet his gaze. “Hey, dork,” you breathed, unable to come up with anything to match the weight of the moment.

He opened his mouth a few times and couldn’t find anything either, wincing and biting his lip hard as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I’m so sorry,” he finally choked out.

As always, Sam knew what Dean needed and snatched the car keys off the table as his brother tried in vain to keep his restless limbs still. He gazed at you with such naked thankfulness it made you smile involuntarily. “I’m going to see how much red meat I can find you, I’ll be right back, okay? Drink as many of these as you can and don’t stand up alone.” You nodded gratefully to him as he backed out the door.

When Sam left, Dean still shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands until he ultimately jammed them deep into the pockets of his coat with enough force that it shook loose almost all of the glass, sending it floating to the ground around him as if he was a mirage. You could see, even as he stood a few paces away from the bed, that his breathing was quickened from the rapid, shallow movements of his chest and neck. “I’m—ah, I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have—” he stammered against a jaw locked shut tensely enough to make the muscles bulge out of his cheeks, and the lack of the self-assuredness that was normally so Dean to you made him seem unbelievably young, made you want to leap across the room and wrap him up in your arms. As it was, you beckoned him over with a shaky hand.

He walked over to you hesitantly, only sitting down on the side opposite your injuries when you patted the sheets next to you. Awkwardly trying to move your torso as little as possible, you tossed the pillows on that side to the floor and motioned for him to lay down.

“I don’t want to hurt—”

“I’ll be fine. Please?”

Reluctantly taking off his coat and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground, he gingerly tucked himself under your arm and laid his head on your chest. You faintly dragged your fingertips down his back, waiting for his heartbeat and uneven, shallow breathing to slow down. When they didn’t and all you felt was a spreading wetness on the remaining upper half of t-shirt you still had, you twisted laboriously to see Dean’s face.

Tears streamed down onto you, Dean biting his lip so hard to keep quiet you were shocked you couldn’t see blood, the whites of his teeth almost matching the pressure-blanched skin.

“Oh, Dean,” you hummed, pulling him close to you with your one arm. “Babe, I’m here, I’m right here. Everything’s okay; I’m okay, you get to treat me like a princess for a few days and I’ll learn for the hundredth time that I shouldn’t go off by myself.”

“I—I thought you were gone,” Dean whispered between stunted sobs breaking the words off in short staccato, still fighting to speak as though he wasn’t crying even as his tears soaked you.

You craned your neck slowly to kiss the top of his head. “Not gone, right here. Always going to be right here.”

“You were bleeding so mu—just like Sam, it was just like when Sam—” he faltered, speaking slowly to try to grab the reins of his voice as it shook.

“Not just like Sam, baby, I’m still here. Everyone’s okay. And Sam’s okay too, right?” You waited for him to confirm what you knew was true and emphasize your point, drawing back to meet his gaze when he didn’t. “Right?”

Reluctantly, Dean nodded. The redness around his eyes made his irises seem almost unreal in electric green contrast and you couldn’t believe you were so close to never seeing them again. His lashes were even darker than normal, spiky black frames formed with salty tears like cartoonish mascara. You waited a beat then let him settle back into your chest before continuing, feeling the choke-hiccupping of his breath stop even if it stayed rapid. “Everyone’s okay. You’re okay,” you hummed into his hair. “You’re okay, baby.”

The two of you stayed like that until Dean’s breathing finally steadied, waiting past the clearly forced long held breaths and through to the point that he genuinely seemed like he’d hit the smooth rhythm you knew so well. “How are you feeling?” you murmured.

“Like a bitch,” he grumbled softly against your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile, thankful beyond anything for the glint of humor back in Dean, that shimmer of normalcy returning.

“Sorry for scaring you.”

“I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again,” he said, words still sticky with swirling emotion and muffled by his cheek pressed against you. You knew he was only partly joking but also that now was not the time to push back, just kissing his hair in response.

There was no way it took Sam an hour to get you a diner burger but you were thankful for his intuition nonetheless, because by the time he got back Dean was calm enough to get up and had even helped you to put on a new t-shirt—one of his black ones; he said it was because it was looser but you suspected it was some kind of metaphor, covering you with part of himself—and shimmy into a pair of mesh athletic shorts. Standing up for a shower was still too ambitious, but the fresh clothes made you feel a little less gross. He was trying his best to clean up as much broken glass as possible when his brother opened the door and tossed him a paper bag with a bubbly illustrated hamburger on it.

Walking into the room without taking his jacket off, Sam set your food on the nightstand and grabbed a motel binder of local attractions (minimal) as a makeshift tray for you to eat off of before carefully helping you to sit up a little more. “Double cheeseburger—eat it before the fries, you need the iron. Oh, and I almost forgot—couple of these too.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved two bottles in one big hand that appeared to be acetaminophen and an iron supplement.

“You’re the best, Sam.” It was nice to hear your voice sound more normal, lubricated with two bottles of Gatorade already, and you tried not to imagine how awkward or painful it was going to be to try to get up and go to the bathroom later.

The Winchesters sat on the other bed, still in their boots because of the rug of broken glass no one wanted to acknowledge, and Sam turned on whatever dumb comedy he could find first. For a fleeting moment it felt like any normal night on the road, nursing an injury and eating greasy food in a room you’d never see again past tomorrow morning, and you almost forgot that (minutes? hours? you still didn’t know how long you’d been out) earlier you thought you were saying goodbye to the two people you loved most, who’d moved heaven and earth and miles of rural highway to bring you back, whose superhero resilience you’d seen start to crack at the thought of losing you. A searing jolt of pain when you reached for another Gatorade reminded you all too much, and when you hissed both Sam and Dean leapt off the bed with faces contorted in concern.

“Just stretched too far, I’m okay.”

Watching them take twin deep breaths could’ve been funny and you hoped it would be in a few days—hoped in a few days laughing wouldn’t feel like being impaled. For now, you tried to drink in this little moment of peace and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t take another one for granted ever again.

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Text

Regeneration Potion (Plat!C!Tommyinnit x Witch!F!Reader)

TW: Mentions of Dream's actions during Tommy's exile INCLUDING his un alive moment. YES I KNOW TUBBO CAN HAVE MORE THAN ONE FRIEND. SHUSH. PLOT.

Reader wears a dress most of the time. Also Tommy is around 17 (I forgot his canon age sorry)

I might make this a series!

☆Tommy P.O.V☆

His hotel was taken over.. His house was practically empty.. He was stared at everywhere he went.. His best friend replaced him instantly without much of a second thought.. His brother was dead, his other brother probably wanted to spill his guts for switching sides... He had... Nothing...

He had died for God's sake! Sure, he didn't expect people to immediately bawl their eyes out at the news, but he didn't expect to be brushed off so damn quick! He didn't expect the person he betrayed his brother for to replace him so quickly! He didn't... he... Was... Tubbo really his friend? He exiled him without checking up on him... He... He moved on so.. quick..

Standing over the giant crater once known as L'manberg, now covered with a thick sheet of glass... He wrapped his arms around himself and gave a sigh. In the distance, he could see Ranboo and Tubbo running around, most likely gathering materials for Sam Nook...

Gritting his teeth tightly, he felt a familiar burning behind his eyes before he stood up from a pile of dirt he claimed as a temporary chair. It took all of his power not to scream in emotional agony as he stormed away from the sight of his old best friend with someone else who he claimed as his new bestfriend.

Don't turn back...

With a few iron ingots and a low durability netherite sword to his name, Tommy walked as quickly as he could away from the memories. The sacrifices. The pain. The lonely feeling...

He had easily walked for a few hours, trying his hardest to find an area completely secluded from everything and everyone.

If they moved on once... They can move on twice..

He wanted to hold on.. He wanted to keep every little memory and object that he found comforting... But now... Everything he looked at caused a sharp pain to jolt through his heart...

He glanced up at the biome around him, only to frown slightly. It was a Dark Forest... But there was many problems..

He knew there were some large mushrooms, but he had never seen massive flowers bigger than a mansion! Everything... Felt weird... Somethings were incredibly varied in sizes! He spun around in awe as he stared at the different sized flowers and mushrooms scattered around him. Then... fear struck into his heart again...

Wilbur... He told him a story about a forest far to the north of L'manberg... Trees bigger than the eye could see, mushrooms taller than a house or smaller than a fingernail, flowers being anywhere from a millimeter tall to miles high into the air, all because of the land was protected by a Witch.

In the story, Wilbur said that only the lost and lonely would find that forest out of desperation to find salvation...

The Forest of the Forgotten...

His lips parted in surprise and he spun around to exit the land, in fear of upsetting the witch... Only to find a silhouette standing against the light a few inches away from him.

A not so manly scream tore from his throat and he hurriedly threw himself backwards, raising his arms above his head as he landed on the ground, "I'm sorry, Dream! I promise not to wander off again! Please don't take my stuff! Please I don't have anything left! Please...! Please!" He begged, tears spilling from his eyes as he scrambled backwards until he hit a tree. Tommy didn't even hear the foot steps wandering closer until a purple light rose into view.

He took a few gasps for air as he slowly lowered his hands. 'Dream's in prison. He's not here. He's not gonna hurt you again..' He carefully rose his gaze, only to see...

A young woman... She looked... Around his age!

She was kneeling on the ground a few feet away from him, just... Watching him. A black pointy hat was balanced on her (h/l) (h/c) hair that was nicely framing her (s/t) face. Her eyes were analyzing his every movement as they surged with purple flames... But they weren't threatening or violent... They were curious but calm..

He stared at her for a solid few seconds before realizing that the soft purple glow was coming from a ball of coloured fire in her hand. Mesmerized by the energy, Tommy hardly noticed when a dull pink glow appeared in his vision, only when the woman made effort to talk, did he notice.

"I... Don't know who Dream is.. But, I'm not here to take your stuff. That's a promise." She smiled softly, and moved her hand that held the pink glow closer to him. It... Was a Regeneration Potion. "Here, you look a little... Uhm... How do I say this nicely... Torn up...?"

Tommy couldn't hold back a frown as he rubbed his eyes free of tears. He forgot that his injuries from Dream hadn't healed yet... And probably wouldn't be healed for a long time. "Thanks... I guess.." He grumbled in an attempt to save whatever dignity he had left.

While he was considered naive, he wasn't stupid. He knew not to trust strangers immediately, so he uncorked the bottle and smelt it as he analyzed the colour to make sure it was really regeneration potion. At first, he wasn't going to drink it, but he quickly remembered that it wasn't like he had anything to lose, so he took a small sip.

It was dangerously sweet, much sweeter than Phil or Techno's potions, but it definitely wasn't awful and it for certain wasn't poison. He rolled his shoulders as he continued to sip at the potion while she stood up.

Dusting her black robe and dark (f/c) dress of any dirt, despite them being already dirty and a bit tattered, the (h/c) woman stood up and continued to clean the dirt off. "It will be getting dark soon... I'm not much of a fighter, so I will not be able to fend for the both of us if need be. Do you have a shelter nearby or would you like to seek refuge with me for the night?"

Did this crazy woman not know the meaning of stranger danger?

☆Your P.O.V☆

No matter how much you threw yourself into your studies, the looming loneliness never seemed to leave you..

Keeping to your daily routine, you begrudgingly lifted yourself out of bed and sat down at your vanity, glaring at your reflection that bared knotted hair and sleepy (e/c) eyes. Your non dominant hand stretched out towards your closet and watched as your irises lit up a bright surging purple, activating your magic. Your dominant hand began to run a brush through your hair while your other hand controlled the magic that was currently being used to sort through the row of clothes in your closet. Once you found an outfit that you deemed adequate, you made a quick gesture with your hand that caused the clothing to float onto your bed.

It didn't take very long to get ready, I mean, come on, you were in a large forest miles away from the closest village! It's not like you were going to be seeing anyone for a few more centuries.

Your house was cozy and rather small, but it housed you and your black cat Salem comfortably. It was nice and quiet where you lived.. Albeit dark and lonely..

The trees often covered the sun and prevented you from knowing what time it was, but you had stopped caring about the date long ago. It never mattered to you anyway.

"Yeah, yeah. Quit meowing. You act like you haven't eaten in a year." You rolled your eyes at the dramatic feline as you prepared your own breakfast first. Salem kept meowing loudly, standing beside her food bowl and swatting it every so often until you used your magic to toss a fish to her. "You done with your whining now? Big baby."

You rolled your eyes as you sat down with your bowl and quickly ate the fruits you had sliced up. Downside to living here, you primarily survived off of fruits and berries because animals rarely wandered into the forest, and if they did, well you kept them for their resources like milk or eggs or wool.

With a small sigh, you got up and washed your bowl, via magic so you didn't have to feel the burning sensation of the water on your skin, as you contemplated what you were going to do today.

Eventually you decided on going to walk through the forest to find more animals or scavenge for more fruits. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you double checked that it was stocked up with healing and regeneration potions just in case, only to throw your shoes on. Waving good bye to your lazy annoying cat, that you still love regardless, you shut the door and walked down the path.

The silence was normal... But god it was deafening when something stepped on a branch or when one of your chickens decided to give a particularly loud squawk, but it did indeed heighten your senses.

Giving a sigh, you rose your hand and a purple pulse flew from your hand then trailed down your body and travelled through the forest. Your magic didn't detect anything out of the ordinary except for once thing near the entrance.

"Ah.. God.. Please don't be a zombie.. I'm not a fighter.." You whispered under your breath before setting off towards the untouched and overgrown entrance of the forest.

Arriving to the main path, you looked over a little bit to see a tall blond male spinning around in absolute awe of the forest.

He then took a sharp breath and spun around, almost immediately coming face to face with you. The loudest scream you had ever heard left the boy and he quickly stumbled backwards until he fell to the ground and hit a tree, "I'm sorry, Dream! I promise not to wander off again! Please don't take my stuff! Please I don't have anything left! Please...! Please!" He practically cried apologies while he curled into a wall.

'What kind of reaction was that?!' You thought curiously as you kneeled down a few feet in front of him. Assuming that the dark had freaked him out, you summoned a ball of fire and held it out, using the time to study the strange boy. His dirty shirt was ripped and torn in several places, his skin was decorated with mud, soot, cuts, bruises and scars and his cheeks were damp with tears. His breath was turning into gasps as his thin frame shook violently.

"Hey... Are you okay?"

He didn't seem to hear as he began murmuring quietly to himself, rocking back and forth a small bit to calm himself down. After a few moments, he lowered his arms and stared blankly at the magic in your palm.

Seeing the injuries on his pale skin, you dug into your bag and pulled out a glowing pink potion before holding it out to him. He didn't seem to notice it until you cleared your throat. "I... Don't know who Dream is.. But, I'm not here to take your stuff. That's a promise." You smiled as politely as possible, and moved your hand that held the potion closer to him. "Here, you look a little... Uhm... How do I say this nicely... Torn up...?"

The male grumbled a bit under his breath but looked genuinely thankful as he took a small sip of the potion. After deeming it wasn't poisoned, he began to take larger drinks of it.

"It will be getting dark soon... I'm not much of a fighter, so I will not be able to fend for the both of us if need be. Do you have a shelter nearby or would you like to seek refuge with me for the night?"

Honestly... The face he made amused you quite a bit...

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit mcyt #dreamsmp #tommy dreamsmp #dreamsmp x reader #dsmp x reader #reader insert #x reader

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haidyn-reeves · 4 years

Text

I’ve Got You

Square: Cuddling Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 2352 Warnings: If cuddling Dean Winchester is a warning, then you’ve been warned. Lil’ bit of angst but lotta bit of fluff! Summary: When Dean loses control during a hunt, Y/N makes sure he knows he’s not alone. A/N: For @spnmixedbingo and @spnfluffbingo!

Over the years, Y/N witnessed the many sides of Dean Winchester, but she wasn’t prepared to see him so torn up and uneasy now that he bore the Mark of Cain. He thought she didn’t notice the flinches, winces, and the grabs at his arm. It was no secret that the Mark was affecting him somehow. She heard him tossing and turning in the room next to hers at night, she saw the longing stares at the bottles of liquor. The Mark made him terrifying when he needed to be, but he was the most vulnerable when he was alone with his thoughts. Dean wanted to create space between them, he knew he could snap at any minute and the thought of hurting Y/N because of the Mark he asked for made him sick.

It was a particularly rough day. Dean lost control again during the hunt, leaving Sam and Y/N bewildered as they stared at the man, First Blade in his shaking hands. Y/N wanted nothing more than to run to his side, to wrap him in her arms and remind him that he was still the greatest man she knew, but the sight of the blade made her stomach turn. Dean had created so much distance between himself and his girl that she wasn’t even sure he’d welcome her embrace.

“Dean, drop the blade,” Sam urged, trying to remain calm so as not to alarm his brother.

“Dean, you’re okay. It’s over,” Y/N soothed, her voice shaking. Sam put his arm out to keep her behind him.

Dean began to come to, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. He blinked his eyes a few times, looking around the room at the slaughtered vampires and their victims. He looked down at his hands, seeing all the blood covering his skin and his clothes. He dropped the Blade as if it were on fire, burning his skin to the touch.

“Kick it over to me, Dean.”

Dean looked up at his brother, slowly getting to his feet and nudging the Blade in Sam’s direction with his foot, refusing to look at Y/N before leaving the warehouse and making his way to Baby. Sam shrugged off his flannel and bent down to pick up the Blade, wrapping it in his shirt.

“Sam, what do we do? He hasn’t had the Mark that long and it already has a hold on him.”

“For now, we keep this blade far away from him. Without the temptation of the blade maybe it’ll calm down enough for us to figure out a better plan.”

“How are we going to keep it from him? You know Dean, if he wants something, he gets it.”

“Leave it to me, for now let’s get him home and I’ll take care of it.”

Y/N nodded, following Sam out of the warehouse. They found Dean attempting to clean himself up, though he was still covered in now-dried blood and his skin was stained red.

“Hey Dean, how about I drive and you try to get some rest. Y/N can sit up front with me and you can take the back seat to stretch out. We’ll be home soon and then you can clean up properly.”

As if still in a daze, Dean gave a brief nod before climbing into the back seat, passing the keys to Sam before making himself comfortable. Y/N sighed quietly, getting into the passenger’s seat beside Sam as he started the engine, driving them back to the Bunker.

The ride was quiet, Dean having passed out sooner than expected. Y/N was fighting sleep, too anxious about Dean to allow herself to rest. Her heart ached for the older hunter. Simply put, she missed him. She never expected him to ask for a break or space from their relationship. All she wanted to do was help him through this mess but all he wanted to do was keep her safe. He didn’t care that she trusted him with her life; he didn’t trust himself with it while bearing the Mark.

When Baby pulled into the garage, Sam gently shook Dean awake, throwing his hands up in defense when his brother shot up alarmed.

“Dean it’s just us, we’re home. Let’s get you inside, yeah?” Dean climbed out of the back seat and stormed into the Bunker, leaving Sam and Y/N to carry in the bags.

“I guess he remembered what happened and now we have grumpy Dean.” Sam looked down at Y/N, giving her a sad smile.

“Listen, I know you two are on a little break, but I can’t comfort him the way you can, and I know my brother, and I know right now he’s hurting, he’s confused, and he’s upset with himself. He may not want to admit it but he does need you, way more than he’s ever let on.”

“I don’t want to disrespect his wishes, Sam.”

“I know, but I’m telling you, he needs you. Go on, I’ll grab the bags.” He gave her a gentle nudge in the Bunker door’s direction, chuckling as she made her way into the underground fortress.

Y/N followed the twists and turns of the hallway until she got to her bedroom, finding Dean’s door closed next to hers. She knocked on his door, turning the knob when she didn’t hear a response. The man was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor with his hands on his thighs.

“Dean…? Can I run you a bath? Help you clean up?”

“No,” he answered gruffly, still refusing to meet her eyes.

“Dean, you asked for space. I’m giving you space, but I never agreed to not take care of you, especially when you need it. You take care of everyone else, let yourself be taken care of for once.” Dean didn’t budge and Y/N pursed her lips, going to his dresser and pulling out a henley and sweatpants. “You seem to have forgotten that I don’t take no for an answer, so let’s go.”

Dean rolled his eyes and got up, following Y/N to the bathroom down the hall. She handed him the clothes she picked out, stopping outside the bathroom door. “My aromatherapy body wash is under the sink if you’d like to use it. Always calms me down after a rough day. If you need anything, holler.” She watched him enter the bathroom before going back to her room to change into her pajamas and unpack her duffel. She finished getting ready for bed at the sink in the corner of her room, waiting to hear Dean come down the hall and enter his room. She had no idea how she was going to approach the situation, she just knew she needed to do something to make sure Dean knew he wasn’t alone in dealing with the Mark.

She was packing her duffel away when she heard Dean’s footsteps coming closer to her room before he entered his own. She gave him a few minutes to get settled, taking the time to handle her nerves. What the hell was she nervous about? This was Dean, her man, there was no reason to be this nervous. She took a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door, hearing an agitated grunt as a response. She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, finding Dean in the same position as earlier, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the floor. His damp hair was standing up in every direction, indicating he had run his fingers through it a ridiculous amount of times while he stewed in his irritation.

“Dean,” she sighed, closing the door behind her.

“Y/N,” he grunted, turning his head away from her. She shook her head, crossing the distance between the doorway and his bed. “Y/N, no-“

She ignored his protests, straddling his thighs and sitting down on his lap. When he refused to meet her gaze, she cupped his cheeks and gently turned his head, making his pretty olive eyes lock with hers. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he huffed, though it was easy to see that his guard was slowly crumbling down. Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. She kissed his temple, resting her cheek against his as she held him, his body tense against hers.

“Dean, you can hug me back.”

“Don't wanna hurt you,” he mumbled, mostly talking into her shoulder.

“You won’t hurt me, and even if you do, you taught me how to defend myself. I could take you.”

“Not a chance.”

“Dean Winchester, if you don’t hug me back, I will tickle you. And don’t you dare say you aren’t ticklish, I’ve heard you squeal like a little girl if someone so much as pokes your side wrong.”

“Y/N you’re such a pain,” Dean huffed again, limply wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You can do better than that.” Dean rolled his eyes, tightening his hold on her. “I’m supposed to be your pain, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his body starting to relax. He buried his face in her shoulder, Y/N rocking them from side to side carefully.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Dee. Sam and I, we want to help you. Any way we can. And don’t you even try to say you can handle it on your own. I know you can, you’re the strongest man I know, but this? This isn’t something anyone should have to do alone, nor is it something you deserve.”

“Yes I do,” he whispered. “I’ve done terrible things-“

“Darling, the amount of good you’ve done surely outweighs anything bad you’ve ever done. You’ve saved so many lives, Dee. You stopped the apocalypse. You saved the literal world. You don’t deserve anything less than everything good this world has to offer. You’re not a bad person, Dean. I’m not just saying that. I genuinely believe your heart is good. None of us would be here without you.”

“I’m scared.” The words tasted foreign on his tongue. Dean was never one to discuss his feelings, not liking to be vulnerable. Y/N and Sam were the exceptions, he felt comfortable sharing some of his feelings with them, but he’d never told anyone he was scared before.

“It’s okay to be scared, Dean. It’s a scary Mark and a scary burden to bear. But you don’t have to face it alone.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, his grip continuing to tighten as he held onto Y/N, almost for dear life. He hated that he pushed her away to cope on his own and now he desperately wanted her back. He nudged his face further into the crook of her neck, his fingers squeezing the material of her pajama top.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” she pulled back slightly, kissing his forehead. “How about we lay down yeah? You need to get some sleep, babe.”

Dean nodded, letting go of Y/N so they could crawl into his bed. She scooted behind him, spooning him, Dean sinking back against her front. She reached for his right hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing softly. She looked down at the Mark on his arm and cringed. “Does it hurt?”

“Feels like when you have pins and needles and sunburn all at the same time,” he winced. He pulled their interlocked fingers up to his chest, holding her hand over his heart tightly. Y/N smiled, dipping her head down to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck. He shuddered in her hold, smiling to himself as he tucked himself under her chin.

“I told you you’re ticklish,” she teased.

“Felt nice though, made me relax.” Y/N smiled, nuzzling her nose at the back of his neck. “I love you, you know.”

“I know Dean, I love you, too. Every inch of your stubborn ass.”

“I was trying to be cute.”

“You don’t have to try, you just are,” she giggled. “But seriously, please don’t push me away, babe. I’m here for you, I’ve got you, always. I want to help in any way I can.”

Dean melted in her embrace, relaxing against her. “I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. The Mark, it takes over sometimes and I don’t want you to be the one that gets hurt because of it.”

“Dean…I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate that and love that about you…but maybe you need to let me and Sam try to protect you for a bit. Just until you get a handle on the Mark and learn to understand it better.”

Dean brought their interlocked hands from his chest to his lips, kissing the back of her hand before turning over in her arms to face her. “If it gets to be too much for you, I need you to promise me you’ll walk away.”

“Dean-“

“Y/N, I’m serious. If I agree to this, I need to know that when it gets too dangerous, you’ll be safe. Promise me.”

Y/N stared into Dean’s eyes, those pretty green orbs always able to say what he wouldn’t allow himself to voice out loud. The worry was evident, but the love was enough to make her heart stop in her chest. She knew she could never actually walk away from him when he needed her most, but if it made him feel better to hear her say it, she could give him that much.

“Y/N-“

“I promise, Dean.” She brushed her lips against his in a soft kiss, sealing the deal.

“Thank you,” he sighed with relief, pulling her impossibly closer. He showered her cheeks in kisses, making her squeal and squirm as his days-old scruff tickled her skin. “Missed this.”

“Missed you.”

“Well played,” he hummed, combing his fingers through her hair as she snuggled into his chest. “Remind me never to do that again.”

“Oh trust me, Winchester. I will.”

Tagging: @lyarr24 @gia-25 @waywardrose13

#spnfluffbingo2021 #SPNMixedBingo #Dean Winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester oneshot

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rainbow-shine · 3 years

Text

the happiest of endings for the best team in the universe

@spnprideweek's day 5: found family/fun

lowkey inspired by this amazing art

The sun was shining.

Dean never thought he could have something like this.

He spent years of his life dreaming of what they would do when they could finally retire, what they would do when his family got the peace they deserved, but he always ended up convincing himself that they would do it after they solved one last problem, after one last hunt, after saving the world one more time.

Over and over again, and eventually Dean ended up burying that little dream in the depths of his mind, because it reached the point that, instead of finding comfort in it, he found pain.

But he finally got it, against all damn odds he got it.

"It's beautiful," Sam murmured, he had stayed by his side to get the things off the impala while the others had already run to the beach.

It was, in fact, quite a beautiful sight. Neither of them had been particularly excited to visit a famous beach full of tourists, so Dean had looked for a much less popular beach where they could relax without worrying about anything. The sand looked soft and almost white in color and the sea was so blue that Dean almost wanted to compare it to Cas' eyes.

"Are you telling me that in all your years at Stanford you never took the time to visit a beach?" Dean scoffed, but with a soft smile curving his lips. “I always knew you were a nerd, Sammy, but not this much”.

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his own smile.

"Jerk".

"Bitch".

Once they got everything they needed, they headed to the beach and Dean pretty much dropped everything on the first stretch of sand he saw before moving on to where Cas, Jack, and Eileen were curiously looking at what appeared to be a small crab.

"Did you know that crabs are a species that has teeth in their stomachs?" It was the first thing Cas said as soon as Dean got to his side.

"No, I didn't know that," Dean replied, smiling slightly at the amount of strange and fascinating facs that Cas had. “Although there is something that I do know”.

"What?" Cas asked, matching the smile, but with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

Eileen seemed to know something was about to happen, because rolling her eyes she gave him a wide smile before taking Jack's hand and guiding him to where Sam was spreading a couple of towels on the sand and setting up a large umbrella.

"You and I are going swimming," Dean said, his smile widening and before Cas suspected his intentions, he wrapped his arms around Cas' waist and carried him over his shoulder. Cas let out a tiny sound of indignation before he started laughing, a laugh so happy that caused Dean's treacherous heart to race inside his chest.

The water was freezing, but neither of them seemed to care about that. They probably should have stripped off their clothes and put on their swimsuits, but Dean couldn't think of anything other than how much fun it was to finally be able to enjoy something as insignificant as a water fight in the sea. Cas was beaming, his cheeks slightly flushed and his eyes glowing. Dean loved him so much.

"Dee!" Jack yelled and before Dean could realize what was happening his arms were full with an excited four-year-old. At least Eileen and Sam were careful enough to put him in his swimsuit and in a couple of arms floaties.

"You want to help me defeat daddy?" Dean asked, picking up Jack and noting that Cas' entire posture had softened and a look of utter adoration had taken over his eyes. “Do you think that if we join forces we will be able to beat him?”

"Yes!" Jack yelled, holding on tighter to Dean as he maneuvered him into sitting on his shoulders. “Dee and I can do anything!”

"Did you hear that?" Dean exclaimed, turning to Cas. “Jack and I can do anything!”

"I'm sure you can," Cas admitted, without erasing his smile.

They resumed their water battle, being a little more careful so that Jack didn't accidentally get hurt, but the kid didn't seem to mind, laughing like crazy and having the time of his life.

Eventually they got out of the water and made their way over to Sam who was sitting on a towel, reading a book and Eileen who was laying next to him, sunbathing. After solemnly announcing that Dean and Jack had defeated Cas in their water fight, Dean and Cas shed their wet clothes before following Eileen's lead, letting the sun dry their bodies while Jack approached Sam, trying to see what he was reading.

"Cas was at a disadvantage, I'm sure if I join his team he and I can defeat you," Sam exclaimed, putting down his book to start tickling Jack's belly.

"Is that so?" Dean asked, arching one of his eyebrows.

"Of course”.

"That arrangement leaves Eileen without a team," Cas commented, although he didn't seem very interested in the conversation, opting to snuggle closer to Dean and only getting up enough to be able to sign.

"Obviously I'll be joining Jack and Dean," Eileen exclaimed, rising from where she was lying to save Jack from Sam's clutches, sitting him on her lap and brushing the sand from his hair. “They are the best team in the universe, right?”

Jack nodded with a proud smile.

"Sorry, daddy," Jack said, giving Cas a smile that tried to be apologetic. "But it's true".

"It's okay, baby," Cas said, smiling softly. “Many years ago I did the exact same thing as you”.

It was in that moment, discussing their teams for a water fight, that Dean was completely struck with the realization that this was his family. His broken, dysfunctional little family that had managed to get the peace and happiness they deserved. They had (literally) been through hell and now they could finally rest. This made all the pain, suffering and fear worth it.

Because Dean didn't think he could be happier than he was now, with his husband hugging him, his kid laughing with joy, one of his best friends smiling as bright as the sun and his brother looking relaxed and happy, finally without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

"And we made a pretty good team," Dean murmured, low enough so that only Cas could hear him and leaning in to gently kiss his husband's forehead.

This was the happy ending they deserved.

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Time travel and heartbreak

Request: Could you do an fic, about Steve and the reader where they are together and neither one of them gets snapped, but Steve gets a chance to go back to Peggy in the time jump And he does, leaving the reader behind. However, you think is best!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (mentioned/brief), Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Ofc’s

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, abandonment, accidents, coma, medical procedures (I am not a doctor), pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage (nothing graphic), sadness, hurt reader, soft Bucky, language, did I mention angst?, Steve being the Russo brothers asshole (I still hate you for pulling that shit!), comforting, fluff

Two months earlier,

“I am always honest,“ ocean blue eyes looked down at you while his large hands cradled your face to bring you close to his lips. “I’ll be back soon,” he said knowing it would be the last time he will see you.

“Steve, please be careful,” you pressed your lips to his, desperate, almost crying as he seemed to want to get away from you as fast as possible. “I love you, Steve.”

“Love you too, doll,” that he used the pet name was an indication something is wrong. Steve always used your name when he said those three meaningful words but back then, he said ‘doll’ and your heart sank.

One look at Bucky, the guilt too prominent on your friend's face and you knew, just knew this was the last kiss you shared with Steve for a lifetime.

“Lying bastard,” you screamed at Steve before he disappeared, leaving you numb, heartbroken, and all alone.

“Y/N, doll,” Bucky tried to stop you but one look into your eyes told him to take a step away, give you time and space. “He told me this morning; I swear.”

“You’ve got a fine friend, Buck,” you huffed, wiping a single tear away. “Didn’t he promise to you till the end of the line?”

“He did,” your friend choked out, giving you a sad smile before he replaced it with a frown. “I am sorry, Y/N, please believe me.”

“I do, Bucky but,” sniffling you squeezed Bucky’s flesh hand, not wanting to cry in front of your friends. “I need time to overthink a few things. I’ll be back soon.”

“You know, he left me for a better version of me, doll. What does this make me?” Bucky was left in a world he was still strange to by his only friend. “The broken toy?”

“We are the same, Bucky,” you whispered, gently caressing Bucky’s cheek. “We both are not enough for him. He will always dream of glorious times with his original friend and her. We were only substitutes, my friend.”

Bucky let you go, not wanting to drag you into the hole he will hide in for weeks, months, or maybe forever.

“She’s one in a million. Steve will be happy when he comes back,” Sam said, unbeknownst of the heartbreak Bucky and you felt at that moment.

“Sure, he will Sam. If you excuse me, I got places to be or not,” Bucky ran off, not wanting to witness your friend’s reaction when Steve does not return.

Now,

“Please, doll you got to wake up,” sniffling Bucky holds your hand while his eyes are glued to the machines keeping you alive. “You can’t just leave me too.”

“Mr. Barnes, she’s in an artificial coma to help her body recover and give the baby a chance,” the doctor explains and Bucky inhales sharply.

“How’s the baby? I haven’t seen her for like two months,” choking on his words his grip on your hand tightens. “Will the baby survive?”

“All we can say for now is that Ms. Y/L/N has a subdural hematoma. It is not unusual after a car accident, Mr. Barnes,” opening your file the doctor swallows thickly.

“A subdural hematoma develops if there's bleeding into the space between the skull and the brain caused by damage to the blood vessels of the brain or the brain itself,” Bucky nods, not understanding everything the doctor said.

“We hope it won’t add too much pressure on the brain to cause brain damage. I need to interfere before this happens.”

“A surgery,” the doctor nods, giving Bucky a sympathetic look. “Can she and the baby survive surgery?”

“I hope for the best, Mr. Barnes. All we can do now is wait, pray, and hope for the best. If not, we will have to take the pressure off her brain as fast as possible.”

Leaving Bucky alone the doctor looks at Sam who silently enters the room.

“How is she holding up, James?”

“Not good,” Bucky wipes a few tears away, looking at Sam who cannot find the right words. It is not as if he and Bucky were friends before they got dusted but somehow, he feels responsible for the man holding your hand.

“Doc said she needs surgery if the pressure gets too much. He didn’t answer my question about the baby, though.”

“Baby,” Sam shakes his head, sitting opposite Bucky to take your other hand. “Listen, girl, we are here, okay. Even if Cap left you, Bucky, me, and the others are still here to help you. All you must do is to fight, for you, the baby, and the old man holding your hand. He’s alone too, you know.”

“I’m used to being alone,” Bucky murmurs, not letting go of your hand. “How could he leave her knowing about the baby?”

“You think he knew?” quirking a brow Sam searches Bucky’s face.

“I don’t know him anymore, okay. He spent almost five years trying to bring you, me, and the others back only to leave us without saying goodbye.

Steve lied straight to Y/N’s face before he stepped onto the platform. So yes, I fucking believe he left her knowing about the baby,” Bucky’s voice cracks hearing Sam calling your name when your blood pressure falls.

“Get the doctor!”

“The pressure is back to normal, the surgery was a success but we will monitor her and the baby day and night,” Bucky is pacing in front of the intense care while Sam tries to get as much information out of the doctor as possible.

“Buck, please calm. You are making me damn nervous,” Sam sighs, not able to stop Bucky from pacing. He is wildly gesturing toward your room, not liking the way the doctor tries to keep him away from you.

“Mr. Barnes, I am sorry but right now Ms. Y/L/N is in a critical state. No visitors but the nurses and my team. We will do anything to save her and the baby’s life,” Sam nods, shaking the doctor's hand before he joins Bucky.

“I’ll wait here all day and night, Sam,” stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest Bucky will not move an inch.

“Same, Buck.”

One month later,

“She looks better, doesn’t she,” Bucky tries while Wanda carefully touches your cheek. She smiles softly at your dreams, the ones she will never tell anyone about.

Silly dreams of you dancing with Steve barefoot in your kitchen while an old song he loved, the one he wanted to dance to with Peggy, plays in the background. Your child plays in the backyard while all your friends call the faceless child’s name.

It is a pleasant dream, helping your mind heal, just like your body but Wanda can’t stop the tears running down her face.

“Wanda, what’s wrong? Is she in pain?” Bucky desperately grasps for your hand.

“No, Bucky she is at peace in her dreams,” Wanda sniffles, giving Bucky a sad smile. “She dreamed of her child and I just…”

“I don’t know what to tell her when she wakes up either, Wanda. How can I tell her she lost the baby, the only thing left of Steve in her life?” Bucky chokes out.

Sam hides his face in the palms of his hands. “Steve doesn’t even know what he lost a month ago.”

Silence fills the room when Bucky gets up to look out of the window. He barely found the time to think about his lost friend, or rather he did not allow himself to think about him.

“I bet he wouldn’t care, Sam,” Bucky’s words are final, and he does not hide the bitterness behind his statement. “I wanted to visit him, the old Steve, but I can’t. Not yet.”

Again, silence weighs heavy on the friends, only watching your chest rise and fall, rise and fall until Wanda can’t stop the sob leaving her lips.

“How could he leave us behind? I believed in him, lost my brother, my home and still, I followed him,” her voice cracks looking at Sam who joined Bucky to look out of the window.

“I don’t know, Wanda,” Sam tries to calm the angry redhead, but she stomps out of the room, silently closing the door. “She’s hurt like everyone else. I guess it’s on me to tell him about his loss.”

“I can’t face him yet, Sam,” Bucky turns to look at you, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “If he would’ve stayed there could be a smile on her lips and a baby under her heart.”

Another month later,

“I am worried Y/N,” Bucky gently strokes your hair while the physical therapist tries to help you lift your leg. “You shouldn’t look so good after four months at a hospital.”

You giggle lightly, even raise your fist to weakly punch Bucky’s upper arm. “Y…you,” searching for the right word you sigh, “look good. Short hair.”

Bucky nods, taking your hand to press a soft kiss to your skin. “I know I look dapper with short hair doll but do not fall for me,” giving you a wink Bucky smirks as the therapist chuckles lightly.

“We are done for today, Ms. Y/L/N,” the therapist says. “I’ll leave you in your visitors’ capable hands, ma’am.” Nodding you watch the young man leave the room, rolling your eyes.

“I get it, you are pissed it wasn’t me touching your legs,” Bucky teases, covering your lower half with a blanket. “You have to be patient, Y/N. The doctor said your brain and body still need time to recover.

“…know,” sighing you clumsily turn to your left side, “Bucky…” sniffling you touch your belly, looking up at your friend. “…gone.”

“I know and I am so sorry, sweetheart,” whispering the words he sits onto the bed, helping you to cry into his chest. “I am here, Sam and the others too. You’ll never be alone, Y/N.”

Two months later,

“Look at our champion, Sam,” cheering you on, a big smile plastered on his face Bucky watches you walk toward them without any help. “I knew you will make it, doll.”

You do not say anything, just walk toward Bucky, the only person keeping you going as his heartbreak matches your own.

“You’re a good trainer, Barnes,” his smile grows when you peck his cheek before you let him help you back into the wheelchair you still need.

“She’s getting better and I think, it’s time to show her the new tower. Stark would be proud,” Sam stumbles over his words, smiling sadly as silence fills the room.

“Tony, he always liked to make you smile, you know. He was,” Sam’s voice cracks now and you nod, wiping a few tears away.

Two weeks later,

“Whoa, Pepper did a great job,” looking up at the tower, you smile as Bucky wraps his arm tightly around your waist to steady your body. “She’s as impressive as Tony.”

“He would be proud of her,” your eyes shine remembering your lost friends as their features look down at you, adorning the towers façade.

“I got the feeling Stark’s eyes follow me,” Bucky jokes, breaking the awkward moment. “I mean, he had a huge ego and now there is a huge picture of him painted onto the façade.”

“It’s a hologram according to Bruce,” Sam corrects, and you chuckle at the bitchface Bucky throws at Sam. “I mean, that’s a difference, Barnes.”

“Smartass,” grunting the word Bucky leads you toward the tower. Wanda is already waving at you pointing at Morgan who runs toward you a smile on her face.

“Auntie Y/N,” the girl sniffles holding out her hands. “I am glad you are no longer sleeping beauty.”

Bucky laughs at her words, still, his heart hurts as you lost months of your life and your baby only for Steve being happy in another lifetime.

Three months later,

“It’s been a while,” whispering the words you look at Bucky who nods silently.

There is comfort only he can give you. Maybe as you are two wounded souls, hurt by the very same man. “I feel like I cheated on him.”

The kiss was short, sweet and all you could ask for but there is this feeling in your guts as if you betrayed Steve.

Your brain knows you are wrong as said man left your months ago for another woman, but your heart was not able to catch up, as it missed the chance to process that you got left behind.

“That’s normal. You were in a coma, could not cry, scream, or throw things around as the accident took this from you,” Bucky understands you, tries to pull away but you shake your head, pressing your lips to his warm pillows again.

“We won’t let him take this away from us too, Buck. He can go and rot in hell or dance all his life with that woman he left us for,” voice trembling you touch Bucky’s cheek.

“I will not give you up.”

“Same, doll,” Bucky stammers before he feels your arms wrap around his neck. “I loved you since I met you.”

Two years later,

“I know it took me long to come here,” whispering the words you lean back, watching a squirrel run toward a tree.

“Will you ever forgive me,” Steve or rather his aged version rasps, glancing at you folding your hands.

You slowly get up, looking into the distance. “I forgive you for being a selfish bastard and I have to thank you at the same time,” you smile as Steve wrinkles his forehead.

“I don’t understand,” Steve whispers.

“You gave me the chance to be free again. I had the chance to find the love of my life thanks to you,” you look at Bucky waiting at the end of the park, your baby boy in his arms.

“I got my husband, my son and a baby girl on her way,” you peck Steve’s cheek, turning to leave.

“The only thing I'll never forgive you is that due to the heartbreak you willingly caused I had an accident, lost months of my life, and,” you sniffle silently, “our baby.”

“Baby!” Steve chokes out, feeling his heart break at the thought he could’ve had it all - with you.

“I hope she was worth it, Steve. I hope, from the depths of my heart, you had a wonderful life with her.”

One last time you look at Steve before you are the one walking away, leaving him behind...

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2K notes · View notes

babykimmin · 4 years

Text

One Last Time

A/N: I never intended on posting this, I wrote this after watching the last episode of Supernatural. I felt so many feelings watching it and writing this. I didn't mention a name on the mother because you guys can imagine whoever. *wink wink* maybe you can find the little hint I put in there on who I thought of as her mother.

Daughter!Reader

___

Dean held in the sob he felt rising through his chest almost making him forget the pain his body was going through. Sam moved away when he saw Dean reach towards the brunette watching her father with teared-filled eyes. He watched Dean shake his head at her, "No trying to save me, the moment I get off this I know I will be gone, I can feel myself slipping…come here let me look at you one last time, my baby." the girl moved slowly towards her father feeling her words get stuck in her throat, she felt her grace reaching out towards her sire she could feel it too. She could feel him slipping and there was nothing she could do, again.

"Baby, you were my greatest wish, a wish I thought would never come true but here you are. I'm sorry I have to leave you, but I know you will be fine because I raised you. I'm your father, you are strong, you are brave, you are.." Dean held in a breathe as he held his abdomen, "everything I'm not. I love you so much, never forget that.." Dean held her head towards his. She felt his last breath on her and she held his face in her hands.

"Daddy." She could feel Sam's hands on her trying to move her away and she held on harder, "No Daddy come back. I can't live without you. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't…I-" A sob ripped its way out of her mouth, Sam stopped his movements at the devastating sound coming out of the young girl, she had just lost both her parents in a matter of days. He had no words. The scream that left her mouth the next second made Sam's tears shed. Watching her clutch Dean's jacket, he had never seen such devastation in someone so young. Her sobs seemed to be all feelings piled up from everything that had gone on.

She and Jack never deserved this life. They were children in the bodies of teenagers. They both had never gotten a break. It made sense why Dean didn't want children, he wanted to go down swinging but leaving a child behind, was never in Dean's plans. Now Sam can see why.

All she could feel was pain, pain spreading everywhere as she held her father's lifeless body up, She could feel her lungs not getting enough air and she couldn't hear anything. It felt like time had stopped to witness her fall. Her grace reached out but never connected it made the pain worsen, she would never feel that warmth ever again. It was like being hugged by his soul and now there was nothing just cold.

How could she live on like this, her father was wrong. She's not strong, she's not brave. Her world was falling around her faster than she could repair it and she was giving up. What was the point? Her mother died after exchanging his life, her brother became god and left them, now her dad is dead. She couldn't see her life without them. This felt wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to go home after and make hot chocolate. They were supposed to be sitting at the dining table laughing at Sam eating his rabbit food.

Sam.

She turned towards Sam who had tears streaming down his face.

Uncle Sam.

"Uncle Sam."

She didn't feel the words coming out of her mouth, they felt like they were said by someone else. They stared at each other for a few seconds. The world wasn't done with them yet and it crushed her. Sam had gone through so much more before she was even born. Gone through so much more with her parents and now they were gone. Everyone was gone but them.

"I-"

"I can't, I can't do this uncle Sam." Her hand reached out towards him, wanting to feel the warmth, the warmth of a living person. When their hands touched she could feel her grace trying to reach out, reaching out towards her only family member that was left but the only family member her grace couldn't touch.

"We can do it together Rosie. Dean was right, you are strong, you are brave and that's how I know you can get through this. I will be with you every step of the way, you will never be alone."

But she felt alone.

Sam was her uncle not her father nor her mother, her grace couldn't connect, her grace would never be complete. She didn't like it, she had never felt this way, this feeling of emptiness. She wanted her mom. She wanted her dad. She wanted to be wrapped in their arms and never leave. She would never get that back and she could feel herself not accepting it. Dean's forehead was cold against her, the warm breath gone. She took one last look at the man who sired her, the man she called dad.

The man who would wake her up with the best chocolate chip pancakes, the man who loved her mother, the man who would tell her he loved her every night, the man who would call her every hour if they were apart, the man who would always talk about how long he waited for her, the man who would hold her hand when she was scared, this man that knew 20 different ways to make mac and cheese, the man who saved the world, the man who wanted a better world for her. The man who did everything for love.

"Daddy."

She brought her hands to cup his cheeks, she studied his face one last time. Just one last time. She couldn't bring herself to stop, just an hour ago she thought she had all the time in the world and now she doesn't have time.

His scent, she knew that in no time she would never smell this scent again, no matter how many shirts, jackets, or blankets were left, the scent would fade. She couldn't take the thought, the sob that left her made the ache grow almost like a stomach ache. She felt like she was dying from the emotional pain. She took a deep breath, she had to do this.

"You were good to me, take care of mom until I get there okay? I need you so bad dad, I need you to feel alive, I need mom. I can't do this." The tears streaming down her cheeks made her eyes burn and she closed them as she took a deep breath in again.

"But I will try, I have Uncle Sam."

~~~

The funeral for a hunter was finally done, Sam watched her put on the last of the wood around Dean. The only thing left was in Sam's hand. She stood by the wood clutching tightly the too-large jacket around her frame the scent she ached for surrounded in it. Her father was wrapped in a white blanket in the middle of the wood she and Sam had built for him. She desperately ached to touch his skin, to hug him, and feel arms wrap around her.

This ache was so familiar, the ache to touch her mother to have something. She never got that something. She never got to feel one last time, she never got one last look. The closure that was staring at her in the face with her dad was there but she didn’t grasp it. What closure? To accept that this was the end? This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

She wanted more time, what she had wasn't enough, the memories weren't enough. The memories with her mother weren't enough, how could they ever be. Whenever they were together that bond that was formed before she was even born made her want to stay close forever. It hurt that she didn't get it. It wasn't fair. Why her? What wrong did she do that she didn’t deserve her parents? Was it being born? Against heaven law her ass. She deserved to live just like any other angel and human. She was a product of love not hate.

"You are loved, we wanted you, we waited for you. I love you, we will protect you until our last breath because you are everything to us. Whenever you can't find your way remember to do things for love, remember you were made out of love not hate. I know you will do great things."

This ache in her chest she knew wouldn't go away, it never went away after her mother why would it with her father. Why would grief give her a break? She grazed her fingers along with the wood closest to her father and stepped back giving her uncle a look as he passed her the white rose in his palm. She clutched it close to her and watched Sam clutch the lighter almost hesitantly.

She grasped his arm, "We'll do it together uncle Sam, remember, we only have each other now." Sam gave her a teary smile and her eyes couldn't help but fill with tears at seeing her uncle look so devastated.

Sam nodded grasping her hand with his as they lit the lighter,

"Goodbye, Daddy."

"Goodbye, Dean."

A/N: sorry if it's not that good I wrote this while crying

#dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean deserves better #sam and dean #spn #destiel #jack #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #dean fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #daughter!reader #angst #death tw

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cajon-desastre · 3 years

Text

FYI...again

Lo que voy a decir me costará bloqueos y anon gilipollas pero a estas alturas me da igual.

Si, teníais razón, es real ¿Estáis felices? Por supuesto que no, queréis vernos retorcernos de tristeza y lamentarnos por las esquinas. Veo lo que hacéis y veo la pornografía del dolor en vuestras formas de vanagloriaros de la existencia de un papel y las burlas que eso trae para reafirmaros en vuestro gran pedestal de la verdad.

Pero un papel sólo certifica una boda, un papel no garantiza un matrimonio real. Es un contrato vigente a partir de esa fecha. La convivencia y los gestos son los que hacen que sea real y ella tuvo su oportunidad en la convivencia pandémica pero ella siempre parecía estar sola. Sólo hubo ruidos extraños e insinuaciones verbales y un anillo que parece la lámpara de Aladino porque, a falta de una imagen real, el marido estaba metido dentro.

¿Y qué opino de la relación Tait? Que es un contrato, como el certificado de boda. Ningún troll y Tait me va a convencer de que él es el exitoso hombre de negocios que quieren hacernos creer. Lo dije en su momento en conversaciones privadas con otros ex-shipper y lo mantengo: Es el típico amigo sanguijuela que siempre está intentando aparentar algo que no es, viviendo un tren de vida que no puede permitirse por sus propios medios y que ha vivido siempre al amparo de lo que otros le han ayudado a conseguir, ya sea su hermano o su jefa-esposa. Sus deudas lo delatan, las empresas conjuntas sin actividad y las reales bien diferenciadas y separadas económicamente. Ella no es tonta y él puede ser el apoyo de una narrativa conveniente pero no está demostrando una confianza ciega en él y sus finanzas, manifestando una y otra vez su dejadez e incompetencia: quejoso en los eventos de Oscars e indiferente a su esposa en un momento etílico. Su sonrisa de suficiencia en la fotos de Henley también es muy significativa (y una de las pocas veces que lo vemos sonreír en fotos con ella). Sabía lo que llegaba en unas semanas, su gran triunfo, conseguir su mamá de azúcar.

La relación Tait es extraña y muy fria, ella era más cariñosa con él cuando no eran oficialmente pareja mientras que con Sam sigue habiendo destellos, incluso cuando la boda ya había tenido lugar y todavía nos cuestionábamos si fue cierta. Y no me cuenten la excusa de que ella no podría hacer una boda católica y no respetar sus creencias. Por favor, el hermano mayor de Tony no duró un año con su esposa, casados en la misma iglesia, y ya están divorciados.

La imagen actual que se está vendiendo en todas partes es fácil de identificar sólo con una simple búsqueda en Google, es lo que es y no podemos negar la evidencia. Sam y Cait no pueden estar juntos porque ella está casada. El valor real de ese matrimonio no se plantea porque el fan y el espectador medio no conocen lo que sabe el fandom.

Sigo manteniendo lo que dije, soy fan de los dos y ellos actúan según su carácter y circunstancias. SM no es la biblia y las insinuaciones siguen siendo eso, insinuaciones. Para quien le resulta inconcebible que siga siendo fan de personas que no son perfectas según sus parámetros que se miren en el espejo y piensen cuán alto es su estándar con las personas que le rodean. No es mi primer fandom y he visto de todo, los actores no son santos y la vida de glamour y Hollywood tienen un precio.

A ojos de los poseedores de la verdad soy un Extreme Shipper aunque nunca he estado convencida del tren de bebés (cosa que quisieron hacerme creer ex-shipper ahora muy beligerantes) y la boda en otros países.

Entonces, ¿cual ha sido siempre mi postura sobre todo este circo? Soy creyente de su relación y Sam y Cait están juntos en todo esto. Sam utiliza el apartamento como plató de tv, la dirección tan conocida por el fandom sólo hace que sea más fácil tener engañados a los acechadores que sólo irán a mirar allí, en realidad no sabemos dónde vive, eso es sólo una cueva útil. Igual que los seguimientos en SM, el eterno mira aquí y no mires allí. Cuando quieren ser privados lo son y nunca sabrás dónde están y con quien. La muy pública relación se muestra en todas partes, la privada sólo es para ellos. Hacer interpretaciones literales de todo lo que se ve y hacen público sólo refuerza las teclas que saben tocar para que la gente baile a su son. Una foto, un seguimiento, un like y el resto escribe el fic.

Y sé que los juegos van a seguir, con fotos posadas-robadas y publicaciones en sitios de clickbait.

También sé que seguiremos siendo monitoreados con capturas de pantalla de todo lo que decimos y comentamos en blog amigos para poder tener contenido en blogs que lo único que publican son sus burlas de un sector del fandom. Por mucho que os moleste y cabree somos creadores de contenido y celebraremos las cosas buenas que nos hacen felices.

Resumiendo.

Se necesitan dos para bailar el tango. En este caso, tres...alguno tiene que tocar el bandoneón.

Y, después de quedarme a gusto, seguimos con la programación habitual.

Gracias a todos.

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

FYI...again

What I'm going to say will cost me block and anon asshole but at this point I don't care.

Yes, you were right, it's real. Are you happy? Of course not, you want to see us writhe in sadness and lament around the corners. I see what you do and I see the pornography of pain in your ways of boasting about the existence of a role and the mockery that it brings to reaffirm you on your great pedestal of truth.

But a paper only certifies a wedding, a paper does not guarantee a real marriage. It is a contract in force as of that date. The coexistence and the gestures are what make it real and she had the opportunity of her in the pandemic coexistence but she always seemed to be alone. There were only strange noises and verbal hints and a ring that looks like Aladdin's lamp because, in the absence of a real image, her husband was tucked inside it.

And what do I think of the Tait relationship? What is a contract, like the wedding certificate. No troll or Tait will convince me that he is the successful businessman they want us to believe. I said it at the time in private conversations with other ex-shippers and I maintain it: He is the typical leech friend who is always trying to pretend something he is not, living a way of life that he cannot afford on his own and that has always lived under the protection of what others have helped him to achieve, be it his brother or his boss-wife. His debts betray him, the joint ventures without activity and the real ones that are well differentiated and economically separated. She is not stupid and he may be the support of a convenient narrative but she is not displaying blind trust in himself and his finances, manifesting again and again his slovenliness and incompetence: complaining at Oscars events and indifferent to his wife in a ethyl moment. Him smirk in Henley's photos is also very significant (and one of the few times we see him smile in photos of him with her). He knew what was coming in a few weeks, his great triumph, getting his sugar mama.

The relationship Tait is strange and very cold, she was more affectionate with him when they were not officially a couple while with Sam there are still flashes, even when the wedding had already taken place and we still questioned if it was true. And don't give me the excuse that she couldn't have a Catholic wedding and not respect her beliefs. Please save it, Tony's older brother didn't last a year with his wife, married in the same church, and they're already divorced.

The current image that is being sold everywhere is easy to identify with just a simple Google search, it is what it is and we cannot deny the evidence. Sam and Cait cannot be together because she is married. The real value of that marriage does not arise because the fan and the average viewer do not know what the fandom knows.

I still maintain what I said, I am a fan of both and they act according to their character and circumstances. SM is not the Bible and innuendo is still that, innuendo. For those who find it inconceivable that they continue to be a fan of people who are not perfect by their parameters, they look in the mirror and think how high their standard is with the people around them. It is not my first fandom and I have seen everything, the actors are not saints and the life of glamor and Hollywood have a price.

In the eyes of those who have the truth, I am an Extreme Shipper, although I have never been convinced of the baby train (which they wanted me to believe now very belligerent ex-shippers) and the wedding in other countries.

So... what has always been my stance on this whole circus? I am a believer in their relationship and Sam and Cait are together in all of this. Sam uses the apartment as a tv set, the address so well known to the fandom only makes it easier to have the stalkers fooled who will just go look there, we don't really know where he lives, that's just a useful cave. Like the follow in SM, the eternal look here and don't look there. When they want to be private they are and you will never know where they are and with whom. The very public relationship is shown everywhere, the private one is only for them. Making literal interpretations of everything that is seen and made public only reinforces the keys that you can play so that people dance to your song. A photo, a follow, a like and the rest write the fic.

And I know the games will continue, with posed-stolen photos and posts on clickbait sites.

I also know that we will continue to be monitored with screenshots of everything we say and comment on blog friends to be able to have content on blogs that the only thing they publish is their mockery of a sector of the fandom. As much as it bothers and piss you off, we are content creators and we will celebrate the good things that make us happy.

Summarizing.

It takes two to tango. In this case, three ... someone has to play the bandoneon.

And, after this verbiage, I continue with the usual programming.

Thank you all.

#SamCait #The hard life of shippers #Tait #this #this fandom #my thoughts

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

A Stark Spangled Forever One Shot: Of Small Boys And Big Men

Summary: Steve isn’t the only Rogers male who’s protective over Katie…

Warnings: Some language…not much!

Words: 1.2k

A/N: So this one just came to me after a pretty shitty week, and it’s dedicated to my gals @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @icanfeelastormbrewing . Hope it put a smile on your faces.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

With four young kids badgering her for what felt like every waking hour, a bath in peace with a large pinot was the best blessing Katie could wish for. But now, as she’d been hiding for almost an hour, she knew it was time to face the music. With a contented sigh, she climbed out, wrapped herself in a towel and emerged into the bedroom, giving a little start as she saw Harry sat on hers and Steve’s bed, propped up on the mountain of cushions, his eyes fixed on the TV.

“You okay, baby?” She asked and he turned to look at her, flashing her a smile.

“Daddy said I could watch TV here.” He grinned. “Jamie is playing is ‘pooter in the den and Ror-wi,” he glowered, folding his arms, “she’s watching girl stuff.”

Katie chuckled. “What’s Daddy doing?”

“He’s in the kitchen with Uncle Sammy and Uncle Buck.” Harry answered as Katie sat on the edge of the bed. “They came before to drink beer.”

“What else is new?” Katie chuckled as he crawled over the soft duvet towards her and clambered into her lap. “You not drinking beer, too?”

“Daddy said I can’t have none until I’m... ermmm,” he looked at his hands before he held them up, all fingers extended, “this many.”

Katie chuckled and dropped a kiss to his head. “Well, how about I get my pajamas on and we’ll get hot chocolate and come back up here and snuggle whilst we watch a film?”

“Toy Story?” Harry’s eyes lit up and Katie nodded.

“Sure thing.”

“Okay.” He nodded, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in the necklace around her neck before he paused, and his fingers moved to her shoulder tracing over the now faded but still ever present scar from that fateful day on the bridge in DC. “What’s this?”

“Oh errr...” Katie hesitated for a while, trying to think how to answer. She’d always tried to be as honest with her kids as possible but how to explain to a three year old that it was a result of his momma being shot by one of his favourite people on Earth?

“Did someone hurt you?” He asked, his eyes wide and she took a deep breath.

“Yeah, a long time ago. I got shot.” She smiled. “But I’m okay now.”

“Was it the bad person who made Uncle Nee go away?”

“No, it…” Katie shook her head, “it’s a long story, honey. You’re too little to understand.”

At that Harry frowned. “Jamie says that all the time but I’m not a baby, now momma. I’m nearly four!”

Katie inwardly groaned, she knew he hated it when anyone insinuated he was a baby, especially now he technically wasn’t their baby anymore; not now, Flossie was the youngest. As his frown deepened, making him look ridiculously like his elder brother and father, his eyes cast downwards and he sighed.

The pout and the downcast eyes, coupled with the fact that Harry openly expressed his discontent at being called a baby, or close to, especially by his mother, guilted Katie in. She thought a moment on how she could explain it properly to him without hurting his feelings and making Bucky not look like a horrible person.

"Well, a long time ago, there was a man, who..." she paused in thought, "was under a bit of confusion, like in Toy Story 3, when Buzz becomes Senior Buzz, and he's confused and talks funny, and doesn't know who any of his friends are. That was the man who shot me."

"Yous shot by Senior Buzz, Mama?" Harry tired piecing it together.

"Not exactly. The man was confused like Buzz, he didn't remember who he was or that he hurt people."

"What did he wook wike?"

"He had long dark hair, he wore armor, and had a metal arm," Katie waited briefly to see if Harry would piece together her description and when the tot sat there looking for more information, she continued. "I was with your Daddy, and Uncle Sammy, and when we saw him, Daddy knew who he was and it broke his heart and mine."

"Who?"

"It was Uncle Bucky, but some very bad men had made him very confused for a very long time and he didn't know who he was, and he didn't remember Daddy and..."

"Uncle Bucky hurt you?"

Katie registered the look on her youngest son's face and she sighed. It wasn't easy explaining this, especially given how Harry was as inquisitive as he was, a trait obviously from herself. That Rogers frown appeared again on Harry's face as he puckered his lips up, and without another word he climbed down from his mother's lap and sulked off out of the room.

In haste and hoping to talk to him a bit better, Katie quickly dressed into her pajama pants and a sweatshirt of Steve's before following Harry, calling his name.

****

Steve watched as Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, beer poised to his lips as he shook his head, snorting.

“No that’s not how it happened, at all.” He shot Sam a look. “The chute didn’t open.”

“It didn’t open because you didn’t wear it!” Sam scoffed, pointing his bottle at Bucky as he lounged in one of the chairs round the table as he took a pull from his drink. He swallowed and shot an accusatory look at Steve. “Dude, he’s worse than you. And that’s saying something!”

Before Steve could reply there was a sudden flurry of light brown hair as Harry whizzed into the room, bee lining straight for Bucky.

“Hey pal, how....” but before Bucky could finish his greeting, Harry had nailed him with a fist, straight into gut before following up with one that smacked him right in the crotch.

There were yells and movement from all three men, Sam’s contained an unmistakable undercurrent of amusement as he rose from the table to help, whilst Bucky’s was laced with pain as he bent forward, his hand covering the front of his jeans where Harry had landed a pretty strong thump. But the loudest shout of all was a stern, angry one from Steve.

“Henry Steven Rogers!” He blazed, gripping the boy gently round his upper arm, spinning him to face him. “What on earth?!”

“He hurt Momma! ” Harry’s furious eyes met Steve’s and Steve looked at his son, blinking bemusedly as he frowned.

“He hurt Momma? What-“

“Harry!” Katie appeared in the doorway, her hair piled on her head, as she rushed towards her little boy and crouched down in front of him. “It was a long time ago, and I’m okay now. I told you, Uncle Bucky didn’t mean it.”

“He shot you!” Harry looked at his mom before he turned and glared once more at Bucky, who was now straightened back up, waving Sam away as he took deep breaths, his face pale.

Katie sighed and hung her head before she looked at Steve then to Bucky. “He saw the scar on my shoulder.” She said gently, and at that Bucky hung his head, shaking it a little. “I’m sorry, Buck, I didn’t think...”

“Don’t.” Bucky grimaced, waving her apology away.

“Why did you shoot my mommy?” Harry demanded and Bucky hesitated before Steve gently spoke.

“Pal, look, it was a long time ago and your Uncle Bucky, well, he was confused and...”

“Yeah like Buzz.” Harry nodded, “but he shouldn’t have done it. No one hurts Momma, you said that.”

“I did, yeah.” Steve nodded.

“Hey, listen, he saved me once too.” Katie, suddenly struck with an idea spoke quickly. “He rescued me from a lot of very bad people and that’s good, yeah?”

It was lame, really lame, but it seemed to have done the trick as Harry’s face softened as he looked from Katie, to Steve then to Bucky.

“You did?”

Bucky nodded.

“Oh. Okay.”

Crisis averted, Steve let out a loud exhale before he looked at Harry. “Buddy, you can’t hit people like that.”

“But...”

“No buts, you got something to say to Uncle Bucky?”

Harry eyed Bucky, clearly contemplating whether he wanted to apologise or not, but when further goaded by a look from his father, not just any but 'the look' that meant business, Harry sighed, and wth a roll of his eyes that was so Stark like it made Steve want to laugh, he turned to Bucky.

"I’m sowwy. I don't wike it when people hurt Momma."

Bucky smiled at him, crouching down a little, wincing as he did so. “It’s okay, Pal. For what it’s worth I’m sorry too. But I don’t do that anymore, okay? You got nothing to be scared of.”

“I’m not scared.” Harry shrugged. “Daddy’s bigger than you, Jamie said he could kick your ass.”

At that Bucky snorted as behind Harry, Steve bit his lip and looked at Katie who was trying her hardest not to laugh as she shot him a wink.

“Well, maybe.” Bucky shrugged. “But I don’t wanna fight your dad, he’s my friend.”

“Come on.” Katie spoke as she stood up, holding out her hand. “Let’s go back upstairs and watch a movie. Sure if we ask nicely, Daddy will make us his special hot chocolate.”

“Hmmm I’m not sure.” Steve teased.

“Pweeeese!” Harry grinned at his dad. “Can I have cream and spwinkles?”

“Alright.” Steve smiled, running his hand over his son’s hair and stood up. He shot Bucky an apologetic look and his friend shook his head.

“Hey Harry, I gotta say buddy, that was a good hit.” Sam spoke. “Wish I’d filmed it.”

Harry, completely nonplussed, grinned at Sam before he held his arms up at Katie. She hooked her hands under his armpits and lifted him up, kissing his cheek.

“I’ll fetch it up in a minute, Doll.” Steve looked at her as she gave him a quick peck.

“No rush.” She smiled. “Goodnight guys.”

Bucky and Sam both waved as she turned and made for the door.

Steve watched them for a moment, smiling softly to himself. The way both his boys cared so much for their momma was something he was immensely proud of and the best thing they’d picked up from him, in his opinion. He’d always strived to instil into Jamie that he should look after and care for Katie and his sisters as best he could, and to his credit he did. And the fact that Harry seemed to be going the same way made Steve’s heart swell.

As Katie carried Harry through the door, the tot looked over his momma’s shoulder and raised his arm, extending his fore and middle finger before bringing them to his eyes and pointing at Bucky, the universal sign for 'I’m watching you' .

Steve just about managed to hold it together until his wife and son had rounded the corner towards the stairs before a huge laugh erupted from his mouth.

#what the stark spangled fuck #Stark sparkled forever #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x original female character #Steve Rogers x oc #mcu fic #mcu fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

Stronger

Square Filled: Sung to Sleep for @spnfluffbingo & Hurt/Comfort for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

Characters: Moc!Dean x Reader; Sam and Cas mentioned

Rating: Teen

Summary: Dean thinks there’s only one thing he can do to protect the woman he loves from the Mark of Cain, but Dean doesn’t know everything.

Word Count: 2949

I felt it as soon as I held that thing in my hand. Rage. Raw and burning, demanding to be released. It was fueled by everything I buried so deep down inside me, and I somehow thought all that regret, disappointment, and frustration would never see the light of day. I could keep it buried out of sheer willpower, or it could magically go away if I wished for it hard enough.

That’s not the kind of magic that’s in the world. That’s not the magic I know. The magic I know curses, manipulates, and hurts people. It twists things up into something they shouldn’t be, and it’s all the things that shouldn’t be that make me so mad. They create the anger that’s in me for the mark to draw upon, all those things that never should have happened. All those things that still sit so heavy on me and Sam.

Mom shouldn’t have died when I was four years old. Dad shouldn’t have tried to drown his grief in a bottle. He shouldn’t have left Sam and me alone like he did. I shouldn’t have watched my brother fall into a hole to hell and try to live a normal life while I knew he was in a cage with Lucifer being tortured. I shouldn’t have had such a good idea of what was happening to him in that cage because I’d been to hell myself.

Everything that’s pent up inside me gave The First Blade its power when I held it, the same way the mark gets its power from me. Those two things combined forces when the blade was in my hand, and I could feel the energy surging through me. It isn’t something I’m going to be able to control, not with silver bullets, rock salt, or a devil’s trap. Nothing I know about fighting is going to help with this thing.

The day is going to come when this mark is going to take over my mind and everything I do. You can’t be here when that happens. I have to protect you, and that means getting you far away from me.

I finish off my third glass of whiskey. It still isn’t enough. There isn’t enough whiskey in this bunker, or all of Kansas, to numb me so much that when I do what I have to do it’s not going to hurt worse than anything I’ve experienced in what has, more or less, been a lifetime of pain with brief moments of happiness.

Most of those moments have been with you. Anything I know of true happiness is because you showed it to me. You didn’t grow up the way I did. I’m thankful for that every day. You don’t know what it’s like to sleep with a gun under your pillow, but you’ve slept next to me plenty of times when there was a gun under mine.

That’s bad enough, but I will not let you suffer what this mark is going to do to me. You deserve better than that. You always deserved more than me, but this is where I draw the line.

I think about pouring myself some more whiskey, but there’s no point. There isn’t anything in that bottle that’s going to give me the courage I need to do what’s right for you. The only thing that can make me strong enough is how much I love you.

I’ve never even told you. Those aren’t words I know how to say, and it’s better now that I didn’t. That would only make this harder, and I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to. I never wanted to hurt you. I would go to hell again in an instant if it meant sparing you pain. I guess I am; it’s just this time my hell is going to be on earth, and the thing that will torture me the most is being without you.

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

“You have to go.” You’re standing in our room with a look of disbelief on your face like you can’t comprehend what I just said, so I try again. “It’s time for this, whatever we’ve had, to be over.” Still you say nothing, just look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours that could make me lose my nerve and not go through with this, so I turn my head away. I can’t look in your eyes.

I’ve got to get through to you. You can’t be near me. I will not let this anger that’s going to consume me consume you too. This situation calls for something else. I still can’t look at you. I cannot look at you when I do this, or I’ll break.

I grab my duffle from the corner where I left it after the last hunt and throw it on the bed, then I open the drawer in the chest where you keep your clothes and start emptying it. I’m stuffing them into the duffle, trying hard not to really notice them because then I’ll remember.

I’ll think about the last time you wore that shirt, or how this is the one you always wear when we curl up on the bed to watch movies together and end up wrapped around each other, making out and forgetting all about the movie.

I’m managing to keep it together until I find one of my shirts in that drawer. It’s my black t-shirt you like to sleep in. I can picture the way it looks on you, the way it falls on your thighs and how good your legs look when you wear it; and then I remember the way it feels when your legs are wrapped around me. I take a deep breath.

I have to stop packing the duffle. I can’t touch your clothes anymore, and you see your opening. “Dean, what are you doing?”

I push the image of you in that shirt with your head on my chest out of my mind because it feels like a fist squeezing the life out of my heart. I zip the duffle closed. Whatever is in there will have to do. I pick it up and throw it on the floor. I never faced any monster that tested my courage the way this is. “I told you. We’re done, and you need to leave.”

“Dean, stop it and look at me.” You reach out and put your hand on my arm. It looks so small, and I want to feel it in mine so bad. It’s the hand I thought about holding for the rest of my life, however long that may be.

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing again before I turn around to look at you. When I do, I feel my knees go weak. Stay focused. Do what you have to do for her. “Don’t make this harder or more complicated than it has to be, Y/N.”

I’m waiting for you to say something. Anything. But I’m not expecting what you do say. “Dean, you’re full of crap.” Now, it’s my turn to look confused. I have no response for that, but you have plenty more to say.

You let go of my arm, stand back, and cross your arms over your chest. “You think you’re doing something noble, and you’ve done plenty of noble things in your life, but this isn’t one of them. There’s no way you’d be saying any of this if that mark wasn’t on your arm. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Dean. I’m not blind, and I’m not stupid. You looked at me that way last night, and I know what it means even if you won’t say it.”

I fumble for something to say, and the best I’ve got is “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your arms fall to your sides. “Like hell you don’t, Dean. You try to stay hidden behind that wall you’ve made around yourself, but before you got the mark; I broke through it. You let me in, and it’s not going to be so easy to push me back out.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down. My eyes follow you; I’m watching every move you make. You’re staring at me, and just as much as I couldn’t look at you before; I can’t help but look at you now. Your voice sounds steady and determined. You aren’t finished with me. You’ve decided I’m going to hear everything you have to say.

“I could leave the bunker, but it wouldn’t mean I’d leave you. I’d still be in touch with Sam all the time, asking him about you, keeping tabs on you, doing everything I could to save you. I’ll never stop trying to save you no matter how many times you tell me to go because I don’t believe any of it, and because I love you. You can’t stop me from loving you, and I won’t. I can’t now even if I tried.” You wrapped your arms around your middle and hugged yourself. It was nothing like when you’d taken your defiant stance with your arms folded over your chest.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and all the air had been knocked out of me. All I wanted to do was sit down beside you, take you in my arms, and give you all the comfort you were trying to give yourself. It was true. You wouldn’t give up. That’s who you are. Stubborn. Willful. And the kindest, most loving woman on this earth.

Fuck no. There are tears in your eyes. Not tears. I can’t handle tears. I can’t just watch you cry and do nothing to stop it. The next thing you say blows my plan to pieces.

You hug yourself tighter, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I need you, Dean. Our...baby needs you.”

I sit down on the end of the bed because I don’t trust my legs to hold me up anymore, and I’m trying to read your face, trying to will you to look at me. “Our...Wh...What?”

When you do look at me, your eyes are sad. Your eyes shouldn’t be sad. More tears are streaming down your face. I can’t just sit here. I slide down the side of the bed until I’m next to you, and I wipe the tears from your cheeks. You let me. You don’t pull away, and I’m relieved for that. Just forget what I said before. I was an ass. I didn’t know.

“We’re having a baby, Dean. Don’t make me go.” Your tears have turned into sobs, and I take you in my arms, my earlier act forgotten.

I put my hand in your hair and hold the back of your head while I whisper to you and try to calm you down. You shouldn’t be upset like this. “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart. Don��t cry. I wouldn’t send you and the baby away. I would never do that.” I’ll leave if I have to. You’ll be safe here in the bunker with Sam. He’ll protect you, and this place is warded against anything that might want to hurt you. Sam is so smart; he’ll find a way to keep me out if he needs to. He knows what I would want.

After a few minutes, you stop crying and lift your head from my shoulder. Your eyes don’t look as sad as before, but they’re still sad; I hate that, hate that I did that to you. “Dean, why would you tell me to go when it isn’t what you want? I know it isn’t.”

I take your face in my hands and try to memorize how beautiful you are, in case the day comes when I can’t see you anymore. In case you and Sam can’t save me, I know you’ll try, but…. “Because I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared I’ll hurt you, and….” Wait. “The baby. When did it happen? Did I have this thing on my arm? Is the baby….?”

“It was before,” you tell me. “The baby’s okay.” I let go of you and scrub my hand down my face. Then I turn and brace my hands on each side of me on the bed. This is why I shouldn’t have kids. All this fucked up shit that is my life should never come anywhere near a kid.

“What if it hadn’t been, Y/N? I could have infected our child with this evil that I’m carrying.” I can feel my own eyes filling up with tears. I could have hurt our baby, just because of who I am. I lower my head and cover my face with my hand. I wish I could hide from you. I feel so ashamed.

All that shame is mixed up with something else, a fierce protective love for you and the baby you’re carrying. I don’t even know what’s right for you anymore. I don’t know what to do..

I feel your arm go around me, and your voice is still the sweetest sound I could possibly hear. For some reason, you’re still here talking to me even though I’m a danger to you and the baby. “Dean, you won’t hurt me; you won’t hurt either of us. We’ll find a way to get that mark off your arm. We will.”

I want to believe you, but I can feel it burning. That goddamned mark is burning now. This should be one of the sweetest moments of my life. You just told me I’m going to be a father, and I can feel the mark. It won’t let me forget about it, not for an instant. It has intruded on something which should have been between us.

You put your hand over mine that’s still covering my face and move it to rest in your lap. “Dean, do you want to feel the baby?” Your voice is full of hope; I hear it.

Feel the baby. How can you trust me so much? “Can...can I do that? Isn’t it too soon?”

You smile for the first time since I walked into our room. “Well, it’s too soon to feel it move, but you know it’s there.” You lift my hand from your lap and put it on your stomach. My baby is in there. I can’t help it. I smile too.

Knowing there’s a life inside you that we made makes me feel something I can’t begin to explain. This feels like an even greater responsibility than saving the world from an apocalypse. How do I fulfill that responsibility with this fucking mark on my arm? It’s too much.

I leave my hand where it is on your stomach, lay down, and put my head on your lap. You have something so precious inside you. I move my hand a little so I can kiss the center of your stomach. “Sweet baby, I love you.” Just like that, I said the words I thought I couldn’t say, and everything I’ve tried to keep pushed down inside me came pouring out.

I cried there with my head on your lap, cried because I’ve dragged you both into this mess with me, cried because I need to be a father to my child. I want to be, but what if I’m not here for him? Or her? What if I’m not even here to see the baby born? What if the mark has taken me already?

Cas will take care of it. I told him to kill me if it came to that. Sam can’t do it; he won’t ever do it. A sob rips out of me. I want to see my baby grow up.

I feel your fingers running through my hair. I never wanted you to see me like this. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Dean, it’s okay.” You’re still running your fingers through my hair. Your touch is so soft, just like you, soft and good. “You don’t have to do this alone, Dean. You never had to do it alone. We love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” I circle my arms around your waist and hold on. I don’t ever want to let you go.

You take your hand out of my hair and slide it down my back, rubbing back and forth. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I finally stop crying; and your hand stops moving.

“C’mere, Dean.” I can feel you shifting your position, and I sit up so you can move. You lay down on the bed, your head on the pillow, and hold your arms out to me. “C’mon.”

I lay down next to you with my head on your shoulder. You start stroking your fingers through my hair again. “Close your eyes, Dean.”

So close, no matter how far

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

I want to stay here like this forever with nothing but the feel of our arms around each other and the sound of your gentle voice singing.

Never opened myself this way

Life is ours; we live it our way

Oh, these words I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

You make me feel calm. I believe you when you make me feel like this. I believe it can be okay.

Trust I seek and I find in you....

I dream about you, and in my dreams there is no mark. There’s only us and a little girl with green eyes and a smile like yours. We’re happy.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

#make me feel bingo #spnfluffbingo #dean angst #dean fluff #dean x reader #dean oneshot

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impala-in-gotham · 3 years

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This Destiel/finale fix-it ficlet I wrote...

This is my first attempt at writing fic so be gentle haha but I had a dream close to this and kinda tweaked it from there but it’s basically a finale fix-it in which I’ve decided Dean’s still alive. He lost consciousness a few sentences into his speech and imagined the rest, which is what we saw. There’s just too much about “heaven” that has been used before as a façade. So here goes…

“Okay. P-Please. I'm fading pretty quick, so...there's a few things that I-...” before he can even start the next words Dean’s head lolls to the side and his eyes fall closed.

Sam feels like everything is moving in slow motion as the nightmare of losing his brother plays out in front of his eyes.

“Dean??”

Sam holds Dean in place the best he can and his dread drains away slightly as he hears Dean’s shallow breaths despite his sudden loss of consciousness.

Sam's thoughts start racing, time-induced panic ticking away. Nothing they haven’t dealt with before but this isn’t Chuck’s tale of heroes anymore. It’s just them now.

"Shit, shit, shit...the nearest hospital is still too far...I can't...there's too many bodies to even try to explain...I can't even let Dean go to hide them...shit. Shit...Jack!"

"Hang on, Dean. Just hang on as long as you can. I'll fix this."

Sam prays loudly into the empty barn, "Jack?? Jack, I know you can see this, I hope you can do something, please. It can't end like this. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not after everything we've been through, everything Dean's survived, he doesn't deserve this. You know he doesn't. Please, Jack. He's not gone yet, he can still be saved. I'm not asking for resurrection here, just...just heal him, please, he deserves to be saved."

As if on cue, the barn roof starts to rattle, a few bulbs burst overhead and Cas walks through the barn doors, rushing to their side while Sam's eyes widen in shock.

"Cas?!? but...", Sam stammers out with only a little bit of shock and a lot more relief.

Cas darts his eyes straight at him and it feels like he's looking straight at his soul.

"Sam, I need you to hold him steady, I'll start healing, but I need you to slowly pull him forward as I heal, alright?... Sam?!...Ok?!"

"Yeah...Yes...Ok, I'm ready.", Sam’s words stumble out as he refocuses onto Dean's weight in his arms.

The familiar golden glow pours from Cas steadier than it did the last time Sam watched him heal Dean's hand. So easily that Sam is holding all of Dean's weight mere seconds later. Cas helps him lay Dean down. Dean's breathing has evened out, but his face is still clammy and pale.

Cas holds Dean's head in his lap for a few moments, as he pulls off his trench coat and folds it up as a makeshift pillow, easing his head onto it. The care and intimacy of the moment, it feels like Sam needs to look away, but then Cas stands and looks up at the relief and tears on Sam's face.

"He'll be alright, Sam. He lost a fair amount of blood so he just nee-".

Sam practically slams his entire body into Cas as he crushes him into a hug, "Cas, I can't believe you're here. Of course, you're here. You saved him. You always save him. Thank you, Cas. I didn't know what to do. Jack said he'd be hands-off but it's Dean."

"Of course. Jack sent me as soon as he heard you. We’re lucky we made it in time.", Cas looks around at the lifeless bodies and their lost heads strewn about, "I'll help you clean this up but first, I'll get those boys home."

As Sam piles up the bodies a familiar but long since heard sound of wings flutter near Dean and Cas is back. He's looking down at Dean with such adoration but with his matter-of-fact tone states, "They're back with their mother, who was thankful to you both...and to have her tongue healed back. I took the liberty of altering their memories. They shouldn't have to live with that trauma." His eyes still lost to watching Dean’s chest rise and fall.

"You got your wings back," Sam says without realizing he thought it aloud.

Cas smiles coyly and looks back at Sam, visibly spreading them out, while Sam watches in awe as their shadows encompass the barn behind him. "Along with a few other powers I've missed now that Jack has restored heaven to what it should be."

Sam sighs, "Yeah, about that..."

While cleaning up the barn, Sam and Cas catch each other up on what happened since they last saw each other. Sam talks about defeating Chuck, Jack bringing everyone back, and how mundane the past months of freedom have been. Cas tells Sam how Jack rescued him from the Empty as well as other angels like Michael (with Adam), Gabriel, Hannah, Samandriel, and Balthazar to name a few.

Sam throws his lighter into the pile of vamps and looks over at Cas, "It's great to have you back, Cas. Dean didn't...well more like couldn't I guess. He couldn't talk about you much after... all he told us was you made a deal and you summoned the Empty to save him from Billie...but after that, he could barely say your name. Didn't stop him from asking Chuck to bring you back", he says with a small smirk, then presses his lips together and sighs, "but it was like a part of him had shut down or just broke. He wouldn't tell me and if you don't want to, I won't push it but you're my best friend, Cas and I...I still don’t know...Can you tell me what happened?"

Cas looks into Sam's puppy dog eyes, now glistening either from the fire or the topic, and then over at Dean still peacefully asleep a few feet away. He reaches out his grace and maybe Dean's soul recognizes it because he is sleeping soundly as if he hasn't in months. Cas guesses that's probably true. Contemplating how much of the story is his to tell and how much Dean would allow him to say since Sam and Cas both know it's not that he won't, he can't.

Cas reaches out and squeezes Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry for any pain I caused you, I didn't have a choice. I knew it was the only way to beat Chuck. That only you and Dean could find a way. I made the deal to save Jack when he was dying, the Shadow agreed to take me instead but not until I had experienced true happiness. With Chuck in charge, any happiness seemed impossible, but I thought proving to Dean that he is worth saving, that all he's ever done was driven by love, not anger, prove to him why I love him." His voice betrays him by cracking on the last words. Still new to his mouth and his ears.

Cas searches Sam's face for any sort of shock or surprise but finds none. Instead, there’s a kind understanding that only Sam would have.

Sam sighs and says, "That's why." he continues as Cas' head tilts, "When we faced Chuck, he called Dean the ultimate killer but Dean just walked past him, no anger or malice, and just said 'that's not who I am'. It was because of you. He must have finally started to see himself the way you see him. How we all see him."

Cas brightens at that, looking back over at Dean, "Then it worked. The only thing I ever wanted was for Dean to love himself. I didn't ever think I'd be enough. That how I feel about him was enough after everything...after every time I tried to prove it. It was never enough before."

Sam smiles warmly, "You were enough, Cas. I've been trying almost our whole lives to get Dean to believe he wasn't a killer, that his life was worth more. I think we all tried, but you got through to him. He tried so hard after you...he tried but I could tell he was forcing it. Tonight, before you got here, it sounded like he'd given up. It sounded like the last time we lost you.” Sam shakes his head, trying to push away the image of Dean plunging a syringe into his heart, “Cas…every time we lost you it's been hard. For me too, but for Dean... it's different, each time it was different. He’d close himself off. He’d lose all faith. He’d give up. He’d want to die. I think...I think that he loves you more than he lets on. He's better when you're back. He's only happy when you're back."

Cas looks back over at Sam, a trace of a smile, "I know. I always felt it, just... well", he huffs, "We both know he's not one for words. But I know how he feels. I think his fear was more so in having something to lose. We’ve lost each other too many times."

The fire is dying down with the bodies not quite recognizable. Sam collects their gear into Baby's trunk. Cas walks out of the barn carrying Dean as if he's as light as a feather. Sam offers to drive Baby back to the bunker if Cas wants to fly Dean back instead. Cas nods and another flutter of wings echoes in the space left behind. Sam climbs into Baby, places his hands tightly on the wheel, closes his eyes, and prays to Jack.

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

A few hours later, Dean wakes up. He slowly realizes he's back in the bunker, he's in his room, there's no pain in his back, and his hand is being held. He looks over to meet gleaming blue eyes he thought he’d never see again and can barely get anything out. “Cas... but how... you...?” and just pulls him into an awkwardly angled hug but holds on so tightly. It's just them. He doesn't have a time limit.

Dean feels as Cas inhales to explain but Dean cuts him off with “It doesn’t matter how. Is this real? Are you really back? For good."

Cas smiles as if his true happiness reaches a new level and simply says, “Hello, Dean." tightening his embrace, "Yes, Jack brought me back-- new and improved”.

Dean holds him and breathes in that familiar ozone smell, feels the pulse of grace within him stronger than before, something only he seems to be able to feel. "I thought I lost you forever. I thought you...wait," he pulls back to look at Cas again, "Didn't I die? I was in heaven, but it felt...wrong, you were there but you didn't come to see me, Bobby was there but he didn't even hug me after... what? 8 years?! No one else showed up. I just drove to a bridge…Tell me you didn't make a deal or -" his face freezes and his entire body goes tense, "Where's Sam?"

"No, you didn't die. Sam prayed to Jack and I came straight to you. You're healed but the blood loss left you pretty lethargic; though, I think that was your own exhaustion. Sam’s fine, he took the Impala. Should be here soon. You’re safe, it was just a dream. Those boys are back with their mother. I healed her. Altered their memories. Everyone's safe now. Sam told me everything that happened since...I...," a brief sadness flashes in his eyes before he brightens and smiles at Dean, "I knew you would save the world."

“I’ve been trying to find a way into the Empty for months, Cas. I…I read everything I could find but there was barely anything. I tried to use your blood from the sigil to summon you like what Nick tried to do but I guess I didn’t get the ingredients right or I don’t know…nothing worked. Jack never answered any of my prayers but I kept asking him to bring you back. I tried--…”

“Dean.” The tone over that one syllable calmed Dean the same way only Cas has always managed to be able to do.

Cas continued, “I’m back. Jack only recently was able to get me back but he heard your prayers. It took a lot of time and bargaining to get me and as many angels as we could save back out. The Shadow’s asleep again. I’m back and I’m not going anywhere. This is my home. I’m home.”

Dean sits processing this. Shaking off the fake heaven and submerging himself in Cas being alive and here. Now. In his grasp. He doesn't know how he gets to have a second...or seventh? chance but all that matters is everyone he loves, everyone he cares about is safe.

Dean meets Cas’s eyes and stares into the bright, deep blue he's fallen in love with so many times, eyes that have seen every part of who he is, good and bad, and says, “I love you too, Cas.”

Cas smiles very much like he did before the Empty was summoned but without tears because the one thing he wants is right in front of him. Looking at him like he is the most important being in every possible alternate universe. Still so beautiful.

Dean's eyes drift to Cas's lips as they have many times before, asking the same question Cas has yet to answer. Cas places a hand behind the base of Dean's neck, his fingers warm and strong as they pull Dean closer. Finally, their lips come together and it feels like no other kiss either of them has ever had. It feels like swirling grace entangling into his soul; it feels like being healed. It feels like every jagged piece of each other is clicking into place, completing and filling what was empty and longing before. It feels like being saved.

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

Sam parks in the garage and leaves everything as-is to deal with later. He heads down the hallway to check on Dean when suddenly the overhead lights flicker but before he can run for iron or salt, the bulbs burst. First the one over Dean's door, then a few more heading his direction, then nothing. Sam relaxes and sighs deeply, “Finally!”

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hawkland · 3 years

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My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies: Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out.

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley. It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet.

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind.

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable.

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell.

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.

#my fic recs #destiel recs #my destiel recs #ok that's it for right now #should be plenty to keep y'all busy for a bit

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years

Text

Goodbye

Characters → Y/N & Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester [mentioned]

Summary → Y/N can’t fight her feelings anymore, she has to leave.

Prompt → “I didn’t have it in me to go with grace.” [In bold]

Word Count → 1.3k

Warnings → 18+, canon typical violence, angst. no happy ending.

Beta → @writethelifeyouwant // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is for @negans-lucille-tblr 'roll the dice' challenge, enjoy the angst! Well, it’s been a while since I wrote about our Dean, but looks like I’ve gone straight in for the kill. Sorry, not sorry. As always, love feedback, comments and reblogs!

Masterlist

Sam understood why Y/N was packing to leave. Dean didn’t.

“You can’t leave.” Dean’s voice was stern as he stood in the doorway of the motel room, arms crossed with authority. “Please wait a few days, rest up. We can talk about this then.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to bluff her way through this, couldn’t avoid how she felt about Dean bursting out in an array of words that would leave her in more pain than ever before. Her only option was to leave. She couldn’t have this conversation, it hurt too much and it would end up the same way no matter how she worded it. She would be rejected by Dean and must leave the Winchesters.

The pain of goodbye rested heavy in her heart with each item that she packed away; the plaid shirt that Dean had accidentally shrunk - looks better on you anyways - the notebooks that Sam had given her to deal with the demons in her head, and then the polaroid of the three of them leaning against the Impala - be careful, don’t scratch Baby. It has nearly faded now, almost five years have passed since that day.

Y/N zipped up the duffel bag, tucking away her memories to gain the courage to finish her mission to leave. She gave Dean a sad smile before she squeezed by him, the doorframe rubbing against her back. His hand wrapped around her forearm, pulling her closer to him. A hug; one that was unlike the others. Her face crushed against his chest while his arms circled her shoulders.

Dean consumed her; his warmth radiating from his skin and the mixture of sandalwood and whiskey on his plaid shirt. A soft sigh escaped her lips, she relished the moment for as long as she could before the tears began to prick at her eyes.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N,” Dean muttered into her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice cracking. It was unlike anything she’d heard before. “You’re more than a friend to me.”

Y/N pulled away, “but you don’t love me.”

She left, ignoring the pain in Dean’s eyes and the call of her name. She climbed into the truck and pulled away from the parking lot without a second glance.

If Y/N had looked in the rearview mirror when she left, she would have seen Sam holding onto Dean as he thrashed to be released. All he wanted to do was jump into Baby and follow Y/N, demand that she stay. Bring her back to them. To him.

Because he did love her. He just didn’t realise how much until she left.

Emptiness. An endless echo in his heart. Beating, but aching deeply. His lungs pulled taut in his chest. A silent scream in his head, all-consuming pain in his thoughts. Adrenaline pumped erratically through his veins. He dragged Y/N away from the horror in the alleyway behind him.

Dean collapsed beside her unconscious body, one hand placed pressure on the wound at her stomach, a feeble attempt to stop the blood pouring out and saturating the concrete sidewalk. His other fingers fumbled to feel a pulse against Y/N’s wrist, her blood-stained neck.

Her blood matted hair was pushed away from her face. Dean pulled Y/N closer and willed her to wake. He screamed out her name while his blurred vision found his brother, who frantically dialled 911.

He couldn’t lose her. Not now.

Y/N finally dared to listen to the hundreds of voicemails that Dean had left. She did the right thing in ignoring them, or so she thought. At first, she felt better to keep herself at a distance but then came the itch to check in with Sam now and then.

She needed to let him know how she was and where she’d been, to hear where the Winchesters were headed next. To hear a little bit of how Dean was doing. Y/N knew that his brother wouldn’t keep quiet about the calls and inevitably a few days later a notification would appear to indicate she had a new voicemail.

Most of them were mumbled words or cut off seconds into the message. The others, well, they stirred the hurt and pain in her already broken heart.

‘Fucksake Y/N. I wish you’d stayed.’

‘I can’t sleep at night, knowing you’re out there on your own. Not that you can’t handle yourself. Ah, fuck.’

‘Why do you talk to Sam and not me? What did I do?’

‘Y/N - hiccup- please. I need you - hiccup - come home.’

‘I miss you. I miss you deep down in my bones.’

‘I need to tell you something. Please meet me - us. Sam can be there too if you feel uncomfortable.’

Tears cascaded down Y/N’s face as she processed every message.

She went through her plan of what she was going to say a thousand times. Over and over in her head like a record stuck on repeat. She didn’t decide until she was one hundred percent certain about the next step. The step that involved calling Sam to meet them at a local dive bar.

Y/N awoke to the smell of bleach and beeps of machines, the slumped Winchesters in the too-small plastic chairs at the bedside. Tears pricked at her eyes as she took in their worn-out states; unwashed hair and dark circles tarnishing the skin beneath their eyes. They looked worse than when they were trying to save the world.

Images of what happened flashed through Y/N’s mind; Sam researching a case, her, and Dean at a dive bar. Dean with some beautiful woman in sexy tight-fitting clothes. Of course. Y/N fleeing to the street in tears. Knowing he’d never change, that she would never be enough.

She hadn’t seen the hooded man lurking in the alleyway, not until he dragged her down it and plunged the knife -

A scream rushed through her lips, unable to cope with the memories that reeled like a film but now stuck in a loop of cold blue eyes full of anger and hate. Dean’s hands were on Y/N’s arm to help calm her but she flinched and shuffled up the bed, unable to process the lack of danger.

Her chest heaved with panic, eyes wide as Dean crouched low with his hands high to show that he meant no harm. Y/N’s eyes flicked to Sam as he remained seated, hands held in a similar stance.

In an instant, she was surrounded by doctors and nurses, her lungs felt like they were being filled with cement, her throat grew hoarse from the attempts to scream for her escape. A pair of strong hands, undeniably Dean’s, held her down while a white coat pulled a mask over her face.

A sense of calm washed over Y/N, each heave of breath becoming easier, eyelids flickering closed as the Winchesters watched on in fear for one of their own.

When Dean awoke to his phone vibrating in his pocket, he looked immediately over to the bed. Y/N wasn’t there or anywhere to be found in the hospital. ‘Discharged herself’, a nurse told him. His phone vibrated a second time, a reminder of the message that was left unread.

Y/N: I’m sorry. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace.

He’d lost her again.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr / @thefridgeismybestie / @kitkatd7 / @harold321

Supernatural Tag List: @deanwanddamons / @akshi8278

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester Fic #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester Angst #Angst #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural Fic #SPN Fic

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