#in order to reassure sam of reality

[evie-doesnt-write]

[choerypetal]

The Curse / Sam and Dean Winchester

summary: Sam and Dean had always harbored feelings for you, but their age gap and fear of losing you kept them from expressing it. It wasn't until a lust curse was cast as payback that their true emotions came to light. (reader is in her mid-twenties and the boys 30)

P.S. I apologize for any grammar errors as English isn't my first language, and this is my first smut. I hope you enjoy it!

xo'

Residing in the Bunker had its own challenges, but sharing the space with two strikingly attractive men, while grappling with an uncontrollable curse, took it to a whole new level. The memory was vivid: against the stern advice of the Winchester brothers, you clandestinely hitched a ride in the Impala's trunk on that fateful hunt, only to find yourself prey to a witch's curse upon stepping out. In an instant, you were ensnared by the curse, your eyes ablaze with desire, cheeks flushed, consumed by a newfound craving you hadn't even known existed—starvation for touch.  

“Oh sweet mother,” Dean’s voice echoed as he saw you. Your eyes always seemed to search for something—or someone, to be precise. The headmistress's witch, with her all-too-familiar wicked laugh, had cast her final spell, a curse she ensured would take effect as soon as she died in Dean’s arms. The monster was indeed dead, but when Dean met Sam’s gaze, he knew the hunt was far from over. 

Your mind, however, was focused elsewhere. The symptoms hadn't appeared yet, but the Winchesters made it clear that back at the bunker, any spell books or the help of Rowena would be useful. “I just hope it’s not,” Dean said, a look on his face prompting Sam to bring him back to reality. Flirtations were not part of the ordeal, especially given how vulnerable you had become. “It’s not contagious, although I wouldn’t mind,” Dean said cockily. Sam rolled his eyes with a ‘really?’ kind of look. Dean shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Sam's attraction to you. But unlike his older brother, Sam had some boundaries, especially right now. 

“We need all the help we can get,” Sam said, trying his best to remain composed. Despite his reluctance, he knew his brother was right. The love curse, though unintended, might have been advantageous for the hunt. You had stubbornly insisted on joining them from the start, and now the little payback didn't seem so bad, did it? Sam thought to himself, watching your eyes glimmer with fascination at everything your eyes gazed upon. He couldn’t help but chuckle, finding it adorable as your soft voice finally caught the attention of both boys. “Um… Guys?” Dean was the first to focus on you, raising an eyebrow. That’s when they both realized: your pouty lips, signaling the symptoms were starting to show. Regardless, the brothers knew they would eventually have to escort you out. 

“Bunker, now.” 

The orders were clear, the drive however. Another story. 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder how you were feeling in that moment. A multitude of questions raced through his mind as he tried not to compare it to anything else. Amidst the tension, Sam ensured you remained still. Despite this, your hips pressed against another, and your hands yearned for touch. When you noticed the rope tied around your wrists, Sam gave you a pitying look. He felt bad, but it was the only solution they could think of. “We are close, love,” he reassured you.

Love. 

"Love? Really?" Dean mouthed to Sam, hoping you neither heard nor noticed. Sam shrugged, genuinely trying his best, though he couldn't deny feeling a bit turned on by the rope. If it weren't for the damn curse. “And you said, ‘no flirting,’” Dean said, almost offended. But his attention quickly shifted when you asked them a question.

“Is something wrong with me?” 

Your voice was soft and innocent as you spoke. “No, sweetheart, we just need to gather some information back at the bunker and get you cleaned up,” Dean replied. It was payback time. Sam’s glare was obvious, while Dean smirked, deliberately emphasizing the word "sweetheart." You of course, had simply nodded in respond. The mood shifted as soon as the Impala parked in front of the bunker.

The three of you entered the bunker, and little did you know, Dean had prayed during the drive for Rowena’s presence. She wore an expression that made both brothers uneasy, knowing they’d have to deal with your current state. “Why don’t you go to your room, Y/N?” Sam suggested with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Adult talk.” His gesture stirred feelings you hadn’t experienced in a while, making you gulp nervously. Trying to hide your flushed cheeks, you nodded and quickly left for your room. 

"So," Rowena's voice chimed in Dean's ear, a sound he was never fond of, especially when he suspected she had some scheme in mind. Whether her intentions were good or bad, the sound of her smirking lips was unsettling, even without her holding any cards. "Why the urgency, boys?" she asked, leaning against the bunker's table. Her eyes scanned the two men, observing as Sam nervously rubbed the back of his neck and Dean swallowed hard before he could speak. "It's Y/N." 

Rowena gave an 'oh?' kind of look, as if she wasn’t already aware of Dean’s confessional prayer a few hours earlier. She relished the moment, knowing full well that nothing could actually cure your curse. "I am afraid," she teased, her tone making it clear that any attempts—whether spells or exorcisms—would be futile. Dean’s brows furrowed in frustration. "And how do you think she’ll let us? Won’t it, you know, ruin the relationship between the three of us?" 

Sam glare at his brother. “Really?” he almost looked offended. As if his brother was pretending not to overlook, while being clear with the attraction the two Winchesters had toward you. And you being more the secretive type, it wasn’t clear if you were in the same page either. 

Little did the brothers know, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by your own sexual thoughts. The symptoms were beginning to show, and by the time you reached your bed, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to feel your fingers traveling over your body, down between your thighs. Fortunately, with the brothers a few rooms away, you managed to steal Sam’s laptop and sneak into your room. 

The urgency was palpable as you slid under your covers, removing your shorts and leaving yourself in just a shirt and underwear. You knew you had to be quiet. After typing your favorite porn video into the keyboard, quickly grabbing some headphones. As you watched the video intently, you couldn't help but imagine yourself as the girl and the two men as Dean and Sam. 

Sam and Dean knew that once Rowena was finished, they’d have to take action. This led Sam to wonder about the whereabouts of his laptop. "Did you stole my laptop again?" he asked irritably, prompting Dean to retort, "You know me better than that, Sammy. If I’d stolen your laptop, I would have left it there." This was true, given the number of times they had lived together and Sam had found his laptop the next morning with a few porn sites left open. 

"Perhaps I left it in my room," Sam said with a resigned sigh. Little did he know that his laptop was actually in your hands. Hearing faint moans from the opposite room, he couldn’t resist sneaking in. There, he found his laptop next to you, serving as a monitor. Your eyes were closed, your top and covers off, your breasts exposed. "Sam... Dean..." you murmured, making Sam's jaw clench. Dean had been right. 

Dean noticed it was taking longer than expected and, irritated, went to check on his brother. "Sam—" he began, but was immediately cut off. "Shhh... she's..." Sam's whisper was enough to make Dean furrow his brow. As he moved closer to his brother, his eyes darkened. The way you moaned their names was irresistible. The two men exchanged glances, unable to help but ponder the situation, both of them aware of the bulges now evident through their pants. 

As your eyes opened slightly, you felt your cheeks flush at the sight of their silhouettes lingering just beyond the bedroom's threshold. Meeting their gaze, your eyes then glanced down between their legs, silently pleading for something more. With your hand now free, you reached out, beckoning them to enter. "I want more…" The curse had taken its toll, the symptoms ready to manifest, and both brothers instantly agreed. 

Dean was the first to enter, swiftly taking Sam’s laptop and closing it as you knelt down, the palm of your hand gently caressing the obvious bulge in his pants. A smirk played on your lips as you gently unzipped his jeans, while Sam preferred to watch from the corner of your bed. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before him, unable to resist grasping his own dick. Your gaze, filled with lust, shifted between them both, and as Dean's cock revealed itself under his boxers, you couldn’t help but look at it in awe. “Can, I?” 

"It's all yours, princess," Dean's voice was hoarse, his fingers gently caressing your cheek as he lifted your chin slightly to admire your face once more. "Enjoy it," he said, and you nodded with pleasure, leaning in to press a few kisses on the top of the rim. You heard him groan as his hips moved slightly, feeling your tongue around his cock, swirling as you managed to gulp it all the way down. Before releasing it, your fingers gently jerked it off, while your other hand massaged his balls.

Dean's head leaned back, the tension in the room palpably sexual. Before he could reach climax himself, his fingers cupped your face. Your pouty lips drew his attention, and he said, "Need to leave some for Sammy," now seated in the corner of your bed, allowing Sam to shift between the two with innocent eyes, which made you giggle at his reaction. "Come here," you said, now fully focused on Sam.

And there you were, the three of you entangled on the bed. Sam's hips thrusting inside you, the tip of his cock teasing your clit with each motion. His breath was heavy as your eyes locked, leaning in to kiss your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue wrap around yours before he bit your bottom lip. Your eyes rolled back as you realized how big Sam's cock was compared to Dean's. "That's it, baby girl. Gotta take it all before my brother finishes you up," he murmured, urging you on. 

Dean, on the other hand, made sure you were just as occupied and focused. His cock filled your mouth as you managed to stifle your moans from Sam's thrusts. "There, there," he groaned, moving his hips to mirror Sam's movements. Eventually, Sam withdrew from the soreness of your pussy, now so pink. He couldn't bear to leave without planting a few kisses on your clit before leaving Dean to finish you off.

"It's my turn," the older brother declared, giving Sam a playful push, eliciting a chuckle from him as he admired how sore you had become. First, Dean licked his bottom lip, then leaned between your legs, eagerly eating you out. You felt his tongue tracing circles around your clit, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's so small," he teased with a smirk, "just like our baby girl." Sam joined in, barely giving you time to exhale a moan before his dick was in your mouth. "When we say we're not finished, we mean it," he added firmly. 

Dean's cock felt different from Sam's, but despite the soreness in your pussy, the pressure was intensely present. It was thick, reaching deep inside you, almost to your stomach. Your back arched from the constant pleasure, and the brothers made sure your body would be covered with hickeys from head to toe. Sam withdrew from your mouth, leaving you to jerk him off as you said innocently, "I'm about to cum." This was enough for the brothers; Dean also withdrew, teasingly brushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your legs shake from the orgasm. Their cum landed on your stomach. What the three of you didn’t know was that as soon as you came, the symptoms began to fade away. The curse was gone.

"You okay?" Dean asked with concern, noticing you had returned to reality and chuckling softly at your current state, which made the two brothers more worried. Was the curse really gone? Sam looked at his brother, and Dean could only shrug, waiting for your response. "Yes..." you said softly. "And it took a curse to finally..." 

"Finally?" Sam's brow arched as he looked between his brother and you. Before he could say more, you chuckled again. "For us to finally express it." Despite the unusual circumstances, the two brothers couldn't help but smile, chuckling as they both leaned against your bed, scooping you in between them. "So you knew?" Dean asked, almost offended by the efforts he'd made to keep his feelings hidden, fearing it would ruin the friendship. "Told you," Sam said teasingly. "You owe me 50 bucks."

You glared at Sam and smacked his chest before he wrapped his arms around you, sneaking kisses into the crook of your neck. It was his obvious way of making you forget the ordeal. As you rolled your eyes, you said, "I guess curses at least have some benefits." The two brothers rolled their eyes. "Even if I don't like it, I prefer you this way," Dean confessed. Although you appreciated the sentiment, you couldn't help but tease in response.

“Say mister flirt,” 

Dean, almost offended, attacked you with kisses, making you laugh. "Ours," he said with a proud smirk. You returned his smile and kissed his cheek.

"All yours," you replied warmly.

[incesthemes]

happy wincest wednesday!! i'm curious about what you think might happen to sam and dean's relationship in a world where they never find john in season one (eg. azazel kidnaps him to take him off the chessboard, he dies on an obscure hunt without lining up the clues well enough for s&d to follow him, etcetera). where would that major lingering question leave them? in terms of wincest, do you think john's death was necessary to "allow" them to act on their codependency, or would his absence push them together regardless?

OK please excuse any typos, i AM writing this with a cast on. anyway HAPPY WINCEST WEDNESDAY!!!!! this is such an awesome prompt, you've definitely got me thinking.

based on my understanding of seasons 1-2, john actually serves more to drive sam and dean apart than being them together, mostly in the way he serves as a symbol for sam and dean's fates, which are diametrically opposed. by pursuing john, they are pursuing the fates given to them, and those fates dictate a retelling of cain and abel: dean is supposed to kill sam, who has become a monster. it's only when they abandon john that they can avoid their destinies—which is why, in season 2, dean is successful at avoiding his fate (for the most part, starting from 2.09), but sam is not. sam, rather, is following a path he believes john would have wanted for him by continuing to hunt (he completely made this up in his head which is still so funny to me), but in reality pursuing the hunt continues to push him down the road azazel wanted for him. and this is why, during their "honeymoon" phase circa 2.10 to 2.17 (and ambiguously continued into 2.20), sam is the one driving most of the conflict, while dean takes an emotional, supportive role to reassure sam that he doesn't have to succumb to fate. dean has, in these episodes, fully abandoned his fate, while sam still clings to it and introduces doubt into dean's mind through his own self-assured convictions. and this is paralleled by dean fully abandoning his father and the duty john saddled him with, and by sam wanting to honor his father by continuing to hunt down azazel (and hunt in general).

and we see this in season 1 as well: every time john makes an appearance in some way, it furthers the plot. and the plot is sam's fate (dean's fate isn't truly introduced until season 2, and so dean exists sort of ambiguously and as a result lacks narrative agency throughout season 1; his decisions make no impact on the story and sam alone drives the plot forward). john is a symbol for azazel, functionally speaking, and azazel is a symbol for sam's fate. john is azazel is destiny. thus why sam and john are so deeply paralleled and intertwined: they all come to reflect the same thing. in this way dean is the true outsider to the conflict pertinent to the story, and he's treated as such throughout the first season. he makes his mark instead by parroting john, by becoming his mouthpiece in his absence. his own individuality is constantly pushed to the side and suppressed until 1.18 allows him to finally move forward into some semblance of personhood, which is what he needs in order to finally defy john in 1.20.

i just realized this is a lot of context and not an actual answer lmao but basically all of this to say, i don't actually think john's death was necessary for their codependency. it took root in them around 1.11, long before they actually "found" john in 1.16. and it was 1.18, an episode which had little to do with john directly, which allowed dean to break out of the mold he had forced himself into. the act of choosing each other, specifically over john (who represents fate), is what allows them to achieve codependency. the moment where they choose to exist in a codependent relationship indeed is one where john is still alive, in the season 1 finale. sam chooses dean over john, in doing so abandoning his fate, and they solidify their deeper connection. it is in fact john's death which causes sam to falter in this conviction because of his desire to honor john's memory (again by just making shit up in his head about his father. i love him), and this decision has massive ramifications throughout the rest of the season.

if, instead, they simply lost john and never found him, i think a lot of the john-generated conflict would have been avoided. and john generates a lot of conflict for someone who shows up in just a handful of episodes, because he is a symbol of destiny for both of his children, pressuring them in equal amounts but in completely different ways. without that pressure looming over their heads, i think pretty much all of the conflict in season 2 could have been avoided: sam wouldn't feel the need to keep hunting azazel despite throwing away his fate and likely wouldn't be so resistant to dean's persuasions; dean wouldn't be torn between duty to his father and duty to his brother; john's memory wouldn't have caused the problems it did in the first half of the season (especially 2.02-2.04). assuming the rest of season 1 played out roughly the same even with john's absence, it would stand to reason that they would still choose their codependency, and they would settle into some kind of fucked-up domestic bliss—probably continuing to hunt small-scale until azazel inevitably forced their hand anyway (tenacious bastard). sam giving up on his revenge quest would settle most of the enduring conflicts in season 2, and sam only doesn't do that because of john's death.

of course, this makes the assumption that abandoning john is still their active choice. i think that's a reasonable assumption to make because they had begun the process of extricating themselves from their father way, way before john ever shows up or before the end of the season where they achieve codependency. for dean this looks like rebellion, defiance against the iron grip john has around him. and for sam this looks like forgiveness, which he steadily accomplishes across season 1. by 1.20 they no longer define themselves by john but by each other, and it's a mere two episodes before they make the final plunge into each other. it has little to do with john and much more to do with themselves and their interactions, their natural conflict and their unique resolutions. giving up on finding dad seemed to already be something dean was working towards by the time john showed his face in 1.16 (he was resistant to pursuing john single-mindedly and preferred to focus on the smaller hunts, both out of deference to john and out of his own desire to save people), and sam's gradual forgiveness of john began as early as 1.08. so really it was specifically his absence that allowed them to come together, because the groundwork for their extrication began without john and it bloomed despite john. he is the axis around which they are turned, but it is the process of overcoming him which allows them to choose each other. they replace their father with their brother (and in 2.03 sam even offers to replace john very, very literally, by "filling the hole" john left behind in dean) and this replacement—literally, as their father and the man who raised them, and figuratively, as the symbol for their destinies—is the foundation of their codependency.

at the same time, this doesn't exactly look at the potential conflicts that would arise with john's absence. there would be little plot movement without him there driving them forward; they would remain stagnant, and that stagnation could disallow the blossoming of their codependency through a lack of choices and decisions. it is of course the deliberate choosing of brother over father which inevitably drives them closer—in 1.11 it's sam choosing to save dean instead of finding john; in 1.16 it's dean choosing to send john away instead of braving the world together; in 1.20 it's sam and dean both standing up to john in equal measures; in 1.21-22, it's sam choosing to let azazel escape. without john exerting pressure on them, sam and dean sit comfortably without moving, together but with a marked distance between them. which was exactly meg's plan in 1.16: they weren't moving fast enough for her liking, so she used john as bait (the three of them were mutually bait for each other, rather) to force them to make decisions.

so it's sort of a double-edged sword. they steadily come together and twist themselves around each other without john there to drive them apart, but at the same time it is john's active presence which allows them to take definitive steps toward their desired state of being (codependency). without the pressure john exerts on the narrative, their progress is slow, and they're too nervous to make those drastic leaps from step to step without some external force pitting them against each other. in that way they're a little too comfortable with each other (a lifetime together will do that for you), and they have to be unavoidably forced out of that comfort in order for them to commit to anything. john is both the driving force for their codependency and the wedge hammered between them, which sums up his narrative role so poetically if you ask me.

so like, tldr (seriously), i think if john went missing and they made the active choice to stop looking for him, they still definitely would have the potential to achieve codependency, but it might take them a much longer time to do so, especially with azazel's meddling (because he, of course, wants them to kill each other—that's their destiny after all). without something to rotate around, they risk stagnation, but it would likely be a comfortable stagnation with steady, if slow, progress toward a better, closer relationship. i wouldn't say the end product would ever be healthy though, because it's clear early on that their ideal relationship with each other is that of codependency, and so they are constantly striving for that end goal. and like, thank god for that, idk what i'd do if they were normal about each other 💦

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Okay, so a couple days ago I rewatched the S3 episode of Lone Star where TK is in his hypothermia induced coma and we get to see what's going on in his head, and oh my GOD did it give me SUCH an amazing idea for an agere mulit-chapter fic!!!

Remember how in TK's coma dream he's back in his dad's house but with his mom and they bake cookies? And how TK tells Gwyn he'll always be her little boy, that he still is? Well Goddamn did all that get my writer brain going!

So, what if both Owen and Gwyn were there in TK's dream, and they were treating him like he was still a little boy? The way I'm picturing it is kind of like that episode of SPN when Sam and Dean go to heaven together and see each other's versions of it, and Dean has that one memory of Mary from when he was 3 or 4–dressed the part and being treated like a little boy despite him still looking and acting like his adult self to Sam and the viewers. That's how I imagine this going with TK.

He still looks like an adult and feels like one, and is incredibly confused by what's happening at first, but quickly begins to enjoy all their attention and babying. And soon, begins to feel like the little boy their treating him as. Like in the episode tho, it's Carlos speaking to him that still inevitably brings him back to waking reality.

However, almost as soon as they get the tube out of him, he's still panicking and begins to tearfully call for his mama and daddy. Carlos is freaking out but doing his best to calm him down before the nurses have to give him a sedative, reassuring him that he'll call and get his dad here as soon as possible, but in the end TK is too disoriented and scared, and at the doctor's order one of the nurses has to give him a mild sedative.

Carlos calls Owen as soon as TK is fully under the drugs affects and tells him he needs to get to the hospital quick, that TK woke up and was asking for him. By the time Owen arrives, TK is beginning to fight his way out of the sedative's clutches. As soon as he lays his eyes on Owen the waterworks start up all over again and he desperately reaches for him. Owen, while bewildered and worried, just rolls with it and does what any good father would: give his kid as much comfort as he needs.

Owen ends up climbing nto bed with TK (cautious of the cords and tubes still attached to him, of course), and TK eventually cries himself into an exhausted sleep in his arms. The doctor ends up making a return not long after that (Owen still in the bed, not daring to move and disturb his son's rest), and Owen immediately asks the burning question on both his and Carlos' mind; did TK suffer brain damage? The doctor tells the two of them that they can't know for certain until they run some tests on him, leaving Owen and Carlos to stress over the potential answer they'll receive in the next few hours.

As they'll soon find out, however, this has nothing to do with any physical damage to TK's brain, but instead has everything to do with his psyche.

I'm thinking that TK would probably stay regressed for most of the duration of the fic, but that even once he does start to come back to himself, he'll realize that while everything that's happened during that time feels embarrassing as all hell, it also feels right. Like something he's needed for a very long time, but just hadn't known until he got it.

Wow, hyperfixation really said, "Bitch you will write this shit. You may not know when, but you will."

Yet another idea saved in the backlog I keep in both my phone and brain lmaoooo. 😅🥲

[thehotgrandparent]

Homesick headcanons from Webtoon made by Ms.Freaky because I have nothing better to do. (It’s a school night and it’s 10 at night)

Gladiolus is that one person who you can drag around and he wouldn’t mind at all.

He also finds a lot things mundane and he doesn’t understand how people find happiness in things.

Gladiolus had a shitty childhood when he was younger, which is why he doesn’t show emotions much

Rayne was always reckless and got hurt a lot, so Tomoha learnt how to use a first aid kit due to it.

Kenny and Sam are both Argentinian, and they can speak Spanish as well because they often visited their extended family there.

Poppy is really good at doing hair, but is extremely rough with it. He also used to have a pet snake and cat.

Tomoha and Kenny sometimes voice over fanfics whenever they’re bored and have nothing else to do.

Kenny also makes a lot of dumb decisions, which Tomoha sometimes has to use a first aid kit for.

Kenny and Gladiolus used to hate each other, mostly on Kenny’s part, because he thought that Glad didn’t really care about the group at the house, when in reality, he doesn’t know how to show it.

Once they got along, which took awhile, they were decent friends.

Gladiolus often watched over Kenny when he was out and about because he knows Kenny will do something dumb.

Kenny and Samael used to go around telling everyone they were siblings, but as they grew older Sam started hating Ken.

Now only Kenny says that their brothers.

Rayne cannot cook at all. If she were to cook food for Tomoha and Sam they would wait till she isn't looking to throw it away

She once almost burned down the kitchen before the apocalypse by accident because she tried to cook.

Sam would throw it out right in front of her, and he would have a disgusted look and say “you should invest in some cooking lessons.”

Kenny would straight up say that her cooking sucks.

Tomoha would be holding back tears and give her a thumbs up while trying not to vomit.

Kenny once ate her food by accident and he got food poisoning.

Samael is a huge cat person and dislikes dogs

Meanwhile Kenny loves dogs and dislikes cats.

Tomoha is the one who likes both and she just watches them argue.

She sometimes tries to stop them but mostly just watches it because she finds it entertaining.

While it was just the 3 of them, Tomoha blames herself for what happened at the house and Kenny tries his best to reassure her that it wasn’t

For a few weeks, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the other two due to her believing herself as a burden and/or someone who would drag them down.

Which is why she took it seriously when Sam made a joke about her walking loudly and when Ogre died. She views herself as a reliability.

Sam tried to reassure her that she wasn’t, but it came off as rude and Kenny made him apologize for it.

Poppy likely beat up a Wendy’s worker because they got Oak’s order wrong.

They’re (being Poppy and Oak) childhood friends.

Oak was always the calm child while Poppy was the troublemaker.

One of their favorite pastimes (before everything happened), they would often go camping and/or go to the park.

Poppy is rather overprotective of Oak because he didn’t have the greatest childhood and Oak was the first person he made friends with.

Let’s ignore the fact that they’re all in my hc book on my AO3 account ❤️

[richmonds-disaster-bi]

Your take on my idea of Roy getting Jaime pregnant with triplets was absolutely brilliant, and it would be so funny for Roy to faint at the doctor's office. Now I am wondering what everyone else's reaction to Jaime and Roy having triplets would be. Would Beard cry? Would Bumbercatch start knitting? Would Ted and Rebecca go into full Mom and Dad mode together? Would Dani and Sam call their parents to get recipes for delicious meals to make Jaime? Would there be a competition for who gets to be godfather? So many possibilities with Roy and Jaime realizing they have a huge family to be there for them!

Roy just absolutely being floored by it while Jamie is like "um babe, Im the one carrying them, please stop being dramatic"

The boys would take a few days before deciding to tell anyone. They just want to adjust to the idea, and Jamie has been told by the doctor that this will be difficult. They've both been told the reality of it all, including the fact they could lose one of the babies if things aren't treated with caution.

The first people they tell are family. Roy calls his sister, with Jamie's permission, because despite her not dealing with this side of medicine, she'd be able to talk him through it and be honest with him, and she is. She's very comforting to them both, and so excited about it. They hold off on telling Phoebe for a while but when they do she is over the moon. She's so excited to get three little cousins and is already planning gifts and the nursery with Roy's sister, and with Jamie's mum and step-dad after they tell them

With that support system told, the next thing they do is call Rebecca, Ted, Higgins and Beard into meeting because Jamie is going to have to stop playing. It's too much of a risk. Ted isntantly faints and Beard fails to catch him because Beard is freaking out, just wide eyed and making a high pitched noise. Higgins has his jaw on the floor, but quickly comes around and is congradulating them and offering advice. Rebecca takes a moment because these things are still a little hard on her, but in the end, she is just so happy for them and demanding she be god-mother and that they forgo a god-father because "obviously, these weaklings don't deserve the title, let me and Keeley handle it" which makes Jamie laugh

When they tell the team....it's silent for a moment before there is utter chaos. Richard is ordering the best baby fashion while talking in rapid french, Sam is hugging Jamie so tight and telling him what a great dad he is going to be, Isaac is claiming the triplets for a mini football team, and Colin is going "So we all agree Im going to be the best guncle right? Right?" which sparks a war over who is going to be the favourite uncle

Jamie and Roy are so overhwelmed with love, but it's also so reassuring and touching to know they have a whole support system to help them with this and support them

[ravenrose18]

Shadows of Destiny

Chapter 3

As they pulled into the junkyard lot, Dean took a deep breath. They were safe because they were home. He pulled the car to the side, making sure that Bobby wouldn't complain too much about him blocking the lot or the trucks or the trash man. It was Bobby. "Home sweet home!" He beamed, glancing up in the mirror at Raven. He knew Bobby would be happy to see her but also he knew that she was expecting a massive lecture. "Sam. Why don't you take the bags in and let Bobby know we made it? He can order a pizza or something. I want to um...give Raven a breather before we go in." "Um. Yeah. Sure. Everything okay?" Sam asked and Dean waved him off. "Yeah! I just want you to butter him up real good before she comes in. No dad talks." "Got it. No dad talks." Sam confirmed, snatching the keys from Dean's hand, before climbing out of the car and grabbing the bags from the trunk. Dean got out and opened the back door for Raven, staring off into space as he waited for her to get out, "Let's go for a walk." Raven filled her lungs with a deep breath as she laid eyes on the familiar junkyard. It had been two years since she left, and she hadn't spoken to Bobby during that time. She had missed him, although she was relieved to have left the town behind. However, she knew that the demons from her past weren't finished with her just yet. Looking up at Dean, she mustered a smile before stepping out of the car to take in the unchanged landscape of the junkyard. "Sure, Dean," she replied, allowing him to close the car door as she ventured forward. "Same cars. Same leaky roof. A few more stray cats. Just like you left it." Dean sighed as he walked beside her, their shoulders brushing. He walked them toward the tiny garden Bobby kept hidden behind a wall of cars. He would never admit to loving gardening, but the boys knew he was very proud. "I just thought we could walk some of the tension off. No sense in going into meeting up with everyone all at once. And I had to tell you, without Sam butting in with his...bodily noises...I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad you're home. I may be horrible at showing it but we're family, you know?"

Raven offers a gentle smile as she strolls beside him, noticing the garden that she has never seen before. It seems like Bobby has taken up a new hobby. Instead of merely assisting hunters with research, as evidenced by the multitude of books he has collected over the years, he has now ventured into gardening. "I understand, Dean. I'm truly grateful to be home and safe. I can't believe I made it out of that situation alive. It's unnerving to think that my inability to handle the demon properly has put us in this perilous situation. A demon is trying to track me down and end my life. However, your concern and reassurance mean the world to me. Even just a hug or your comforting words can provide so much comfort. I know you find it difficult, but you're good at it." She expresses.

Dean huffed a chuckle as she explained how difficult it was for him to show that he was soft. He was nice enough. He was polite to the people they helped. He even hugged a few! But it amused him. The reality was...he had a soft spot in him. And the truth was, he didn't like to admit it. "You're right I guess. If I have to lose a little bit of my street cred to make you more comfortable after what you went through, I can live with that." He teased, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk."Do you love him? The guy I mean. Like...if all of this was a demon thing, would you go back?" Raven's smile and giggles faded as soon as he asked her that question. Her expression turned to a frown, and she let out a heavy sigh. "I did love him at one point, Dean. But whether he was possessed or not when he started cheating and abusing me, I can't be with a man who treats me like I'm worthless. He made me feel that way every day," she confessed. "I've had the worst life out of all the hunting life. I thought I was going to be happy for once and have someone. I never dated anyone while doing this hunting stuff, you know. I did try when we were teenagers in school, but I hated hopping from school to school, and I ended up heartbroken anyway," she said, looking up at him with a mix of sadness and resignation in her eyes.

Dean frowned. Hearing Raven speak of the way the downward turn of her relationship had affected her killed him a bit inside. He met her eyes for a moment but looked away, snarling his nose. "I could have told you that dating around and getting attached was a bad idea. That's why I kept them all at a distance. Don't get attached." But he quickly changed the subject away from his habits, since she had never seemed very open to discussing the women he chose. "We can love people. But we don't get to have relationships, you know? I think we've all learned that the hard way at one point or another. But we stick together." He raised his eyebrows, making sure that she read his expression the way he intended. She was safe with him, and as long as she was near him, he would do everything in his power to protect her.

As they strolled together, Raven couldn't help but roll her eyes and cast her gaze downward. "I appreciate having you and Sam there to protect me, Dean. You've shielded me from those guys back in high school, even though I insisted they wouldn't harm me. Truthfully, I never truly connected with any of the guys I dated, knowing we'd have to leave every time. However, I must admit that your taste in girls back in school wasn't the greatest. I didn't feel the need to bring it up then, but those girls despised and bullied me simply because we were close. They believed I had stolen you away from them, and as a consequence, I faced their torment at every school we attended," she confessed, stealing a glance at him before lowering her gaze once more.

Dean frowned, tempted to shake his head at Raven's words about the girls he had essentially used in school. He had never planned to see them again. So, he didn't think of them...at all. "I never really thought about it. I mean, it's not like any of them thought I was sticking around. I made it clear...to most of them." He thought hard and eventually cringed at the thought that he had led them all on to believe they were in a relationship with him. He glanced back at her, "They were jealous because you had me. From town to town, it was me and you...constant. A lot of girls can't handle that."

Raven expressed her frustration by rolling her eyes, glancing at him, and shaking her head. "They always told me that you described me as just a sister to you and that you found me annoying and felt that I should go away. But I know they were being unkind, although it's all in the past now," she said, gazing at the garden as they strolled along. Dean shrugged, but he was taken aback by the fact that she was bothered by being called 'his sister'. He had always seen her that way, for the most part, because they were always...together, like he and Sam. But he brushed past that and figured he could pressure her for more of those feelings when the situation was more appropriate. "I never felt you were annoying. That part was just the jealousy talking." He confirmed, waving his hand. "I'm a little better now, right? Like...I'm a little better at communicating with people that I'm not the 'in love with you' kind of guy..."

Raven gazes at him and affirmatively nods, "You've improved, no doubt. But sometimes, women fail to recognize that. These days, it seems like all people do is hook up at bars. They don't see it as anything more than a one-night stand or as a reason to pursue a relationship. I guess I wouldn't know since I've never been in that kind of situation. And you, you've never been with someone for an extended time, except for that one girl you dated. You trusted her enough to tell her about our line of work.

Dean stopped and almost had a proud look on his face, at the fact that someone was giving him credit for being better. But then Raven continued and his shoulders dropped a bit. His habits were...well known. He took a lot of his frustrations and emotions out through getting wasted and having sex. He was just wired that way, from his teenage years on. But when she brought up Cassie, his nose crinkled for a split second in regret. "Yeah. Cassie was different. She got it. She never made me feel like a piece of meat or a freak. It was pretty easy to let her inside...and then she just, decided it wasn't what she wanted." He muttered, his voice a bit sadder than he meant to lead on. "I don't even know what a stable relationship would look like, anymore. It's not like we have had a lot of role models in that area."

Raven gazes at him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "I'm sorry things didn't work out, Dean. It's her loss. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're kind, caring, protective, and undeniably good-looking. But, you know, we never had any real role models to teach us about healthy and stable relationships. I even considered dating another hunter instead of someone who's not part of the hunting life." She pauses, reflecting on the challenges they've faced. Dean's brain once again caught onto how positively Raven was speaking about him. He almost brushed off her words about Cassie. But she was complimenting...him. She was complimenting his personality, and all of the things that he saw as negatives about himself. It opened a weird emotion in the back of his mind. "Um. Yeah. Yeah, me too. I've met a few people that honestly would be perfect but then there's the small problem of getting attached. We all seem to have a death wish." He stammered out, finishing a little more put together with the tilt of his head. "That's why the three of us just stick together."

Raven's gaze softened as she looked at him and offered a gentle smile. "Well, once we started hunting, we signed our death warrants. I'm just glad we have each other... we should, I guess, get back to the house. I'm sure Bobby wants to see me," she said, clearing her throat and looking down, absently fiddling with the fabric of her flannel sleeve as she began walking back toward the front of Bobby's place. She knew Dean was trying not to get attached to anyone, but she had always felt deeply connected to him. The thought of losing him was almost unbearable, but in their perilous line of work, she understood that the dangers were unpredictable and unavoidable. Dean sighed and nodded in agreement that they should probably go find Bobby. No matter how much he tried to stall if they didn't go inside, Bobby would find them. "Yeah. We should probably go find him before he finds us.", he teased. As she stepped away from him and started to walk toward the house, he quickly caught up with her and gently placed an arm around her shoulders, tugging her head toward him to place a quick kiss against her hair, "Just remember. He's happy to see you...no matter how grumpy he is. He hasn't changed a bit."

Raven looked up at Dean with a soft smile, her cheeks slightly blushing. "I know, but you know how he is. He's been very protective of me ever since he and John found me in the woods. He could never stay mad at me for long. He treats me like I'm his daughter, the one he never had. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if he hugged me and then gave me a playful hit on the head afterward," she said with a gentle nudge to Dean's shoulder. Raven then walked up to the porch, took a deep breath, and entered the house.

Chapter 4

[crowley-the-1-true-king-of-hell]

Castiel & Crowley or Crowstiel Stackednatural viewing order

Disclaimer: This is only episodes where I remember they interacted

In this viewing order their relationship is uh up and down

Day 6: 7x01 Meet the New Boss

Cas as God makes a deal with Crowley. What a strong beginning of the Crowstiel journey!

Day 31: 10x03 Soul Survivor

Crowley feeds grace to Cas to save his life

Day 37: 12x03 The Foundry

Crowley and Cas work together to track down Lucifer who has escaped the cage

Day 52: 11x06 Our Little World

Cas has this distressing vision where he almost kills Crowley. Unfortunately many episodes later the vision is reality and so in the Cracked watch version is a prophetic vision

Day 55: 8x07 Another Slice of Kevin

Cas in a way warns Crowley that he will smite him if he doesn't leave Kevin be. Glowing eyes and wings unleashed etc

Day 70: 12x07 Rock Never Dies

Crowley stands by Cas' side in the battle against Lucifer

Day 72: 6x10 Caged Heat

Cas pretends to kill Crowley and Sam & Dean are fooled by that

Day 76: 12x08 Lotus

One Crowstiel episode later Dean walks in on a scene where Crowley is meant to be dead but instead sees Cas and Crowley pretending to be FBI agents together. Dean is in a public place so he tries not to go off on a rant

Day 85: 9x10 Road Trip

Cas distrusts Crowley and Crowley looks at Cas with adoration. They ride in the backseat of the car together

Day 96: 12x09 First Blood

Crowley tells Cas he can't help Sam and Dean but reassures Cas that they will escape. They always do

Day 116: 12x12 Stuck in the Middle with You

Crowley saves Cas' life by breaking the weapon he would have loved to have used on Lucifer

Day 117: 10x14 The Executioner's Song

Cas looks at Crowley sympathetically when he realizes Dean tricked Crowley

Day 152: 11x18 Hell's Angel

Whilst 11x10, 11x14 have some Cas in it I feel like those episodes have been tainted by the Lucifer and Crowley dynamic

In this episode Crowley tries to free Cas from Lucifer's possession

Day 167: 6x19 Mommy Dearest

Crowley admonishes Cas for leaving a whole bunch of monster bodies he needs to clean up

Day 169: 8x21 The Great Escapist

Crowley looks at Cas fondly, shoots him in the stomach and then digs the angel tablet out of him. Meanwhile Cas looks at Crowley defiant the entire time

Day 172: 5x21 Two Minutes to Midnight

Cas asks Crowley in a surprised tone how he was able to get an item. Crowley made sure to remind his crush that he's king of the crossroads

Day 172: 6x20 The Man Who Would Be King

Crowley goes up to Cas and makes a deal with him to partner up to get the Purgatory souls. Cas agrees

Day 179: 8x23 Sacrifice

okay so idr any Cas & Crowley here but Stackednatural means in this crack watch everything after this is human blood Crowley

Day 181: 7x23 Survival of the Fittest

Basically Crowley gets mad at Cas over something? It's hard to know what that something is because "The Man Who Knew Too Much" hasn't been seen yet if your first ever rewatch is like this. But Cas thought it was bad enough to apologize for that

Day 182: 6x21 Let it Bleed

Cas gets mad at Crowley for kidnapping a mum and her child

Day 182: 6x22 The Man Who Knew Too Much

Cas doesn't give Crowley the Purgatory souls but warns Crowley to flee or die so he does give Crowley the chance to live

Day 182: 10x23 Brother's Keeper

Cas looks at Crowley sympathetically for the way Crowley's mum treats him. Cas gives Crowley an empty threat no glowing eyes no wings to try and get Crowley to help with the mark. Crowley says not until Cas begs. Rowena uses the attack dog spell on Cas to try and kill Crowley

Day 183: 11x23 Alpha and Omega

Crowley and Cas are alive and interact in a pretty normal way. No tension iirc?

Bonus

The final Castiel episode with or without Crowley is Alpha and Omega. Same goes for Crowley with or without Castiel

It is also the ending episode for Stackednatural

[revserrayyu]

2.2 Penacony thoughts [part 3]

**Spoiler warning** in place as usual. I did finish the entire 2.2 story as of last night but this post will cover up until after the first boss fight since there is much to discuss with the upcoming scenes. As always, don’t read on if you wanna experience the story on your own terms.

Starting off with something not so serious and it’s this one option they give us to choose. You wouldn’t believe how often I would say something like “if evil, why hot?” whenever Sunday appears to be acting suspicious, so this reply got a chuckle out of me.

Hearing Firefly speak about her three deaths was surprising. I know she and the other Stellaron Hunters are all following the script and shouldn’t rely defy it, but it’s gotta be at least a but concerning how you’ll have to perish not once, not twice but thrice during one mission, even if they’re not actual deaths. The mention about the third death being the final death does not evoke reassuring feelings in my heart even if these deaths are suppose to help us.

The whole scene when we watch her transform into Sam was pretty cool though. Just a shame we didn’t see or hear from her at all after this. She leaves a wish hoping we’ll meet again in reality, but I’m not so certain it’ll happen.. I would like to hope so though.

The flashback with her and Blade gets brought up again and I love how envious he is that death is part of Firefly’s script and not his. He’d gladly trade places with her if he could.

Then we have yet another scene between Acheron and that old man companion of hers. Her lack of taste is brought into question as she eats a supposedly spicy fruit and feels nothing at all. It reminds me of that brief encounter Black Swan mentioned, where she saw Acheron drinking several glasses of ‘Wake the Heck Up’ and didn’t comment on the bitter flavor of it.

Acheron goes on saying that losing oneself is a drawback to being a self-annihilator, but at least she hasn’t lost all her sense and memories yet, though I fear if that day will ever come because that’s actually so sad and I don’t want that for her! She’d almost be like an empty shell with nothing. At least the scene tries to make me feel a little bit better as Acheron mentions a friend she was once very close to.

Unfortunately those nice feelings don’t last long because of course her companion perished! I want Acheron to find some sort of happiness in this game please! Sure she said goodbye with a smile because that was her friend’s wish but hearing how scared she is about losing her friend’s memory hurts my little heart. Naturally I’m curious about who this friend of Acheron is if they were once a Nameless too.

I’m sure there’s a connection between all this chatter about the color red, the fact that color is so prominent whenever Acheron unsheathes her blade and occasionally speaks in red text, but I don't have the brainpower to think too deep into it all right now. All that aside, this was such a pretty frame of her to look at.

Aww, Dan Heng cares about us so much! You’re also a treasure to us!

It took me until now to realize that the symbol on these nightingales look like an eye, which makes perfect sense as there is a giant eye in Ena the Order’s splash art.

Sunday also has a similar design on the front of his shirt and his rings showed the same design where his hand was clearly visible. Coincidently, I believe this is the same hand he usually holds behind his back.

Yeah yeah, you win good brother points for volunteering yourself to do this task rather than force Robin to do it despite her own personal views and feelings.

Flashbacks of being wanted by the Silvermane Guards coming back full force. To be fair, we are on a planet that used to be a full scare prison, so jail was gonna happen one way or another. Just our kind of luck. And I’ll be honest, I kinda blanked out during most of Sunday’s history lesson about Penacony. I was focused more on trying team comps for Harmony trailblazer.

I don’t remember the full conversation when we finally run into Sunday again in the theater but all Himeko’s comments were great. Mom is done messing around.

Norman from The Promised Neverland? Is that you? Seriously though, he and Sunday sound so similar here, as Norman wanted to eradicate all the demons so all the humans could live freely. Not to mention that his Lamdba companions and all those kids he rescued in the Paradise Hideout look up to him as a savior. (sorry if that spoils anything from TPN, but take this as my offer to read the manga. it’s wonderful. season two was adapted horribly.)

All those times I joked about him being holy and he decided to take it literally.

Just as I assumed, our handsome man is indeed the final boss, which unfortunately leads me to believe that he won’t become a playable character. Hey if I have to be sad about missing out on having Cocolia, then y’all need to be upset about Sunday. Don’t get me wrong, I was hoping he would be playable too and become another Imaginary unit, but since he’s now confirmed to be siding with the Order, the Harmony path wouldn’t exactly fit him, nor would any other playable path.

So um.. the battle begins and it didn’t take long for me to realize that something was wrong. The livestream spoke about how this boss had three different phases, but as the fight went on, none of them happened? It didn’t prompt us to choose our team before the encounter began or force us to use the new Harmony Trailblazer. The fight just sorta happened and ended without much hype and it felt very underwhelming, especially with how great Aventurine’s boss fight was last patch.

During the midst of my confusion, reliable Danny boy arrives with Jing Yuan to assist us in an awesome cutscene which makes me feel a little better at least.

And then we.. wake up. And it seems everything is fine..?

Only it wasn’t all fine! But for now I’ll stop here because this will probably have to be divided up into five parts again.

[etxrnaleclipse]

Pinned Against a Wall Prompts @mettleborn said: [ STEADY ]:  sender gently catches and guides the emotionally distressed receiver against a wall in order to physically steady them. (Sam for Nigel)

He felt numb. Heavy. It was as though someone had gone through his entire body and replaced every bone, every muscle, with lead. He hadn't even been able to drive himself, instead calling for a cab to take him away from the station. With his mind in shambles, he gave the first address that came to his mind and it was not his own, soon finding himself outside Sam's place. Fumbling fingers handed over a wad of cash, likely far too much for what the fare was, but all he could do was stumble out of the vehicle and towards the door. He couldn't focus, feet dragging along the floor as he moved up the path and onto the porch.

A trembling fist lifted and gently tapped on the wooden door, before the same hand rested against the frame, needing it to steady himself. Was it seconds or was it minutes that it took for Sam to answer? He wasn't sure of anything anymore, reality seemed to be such a blur, as though he was watching everything around him from underwater, and when he was invited inside, that was when everything seemed to shift.

Whether it was the adrenaline leaving his body or just the realisation that he was somewhere familiar, somewhere safe, he wasn't sure. But as he stepped over the threshold into Sam's home, his legs instantly gave out. As he started to collapse, he bumped into the nearby side-table, knocking something down - a photo frame, a bottle, something... But before he could hit the ground, strong and reassuring hands gripped hold of him around the waist, lifting him so that his back was against the nearest wall.

"Sam..." His voice was soft, meek, not the same as he normally would sound as he cupped his partner's cheek with one hand, tears forming in his eyes. "Fuck... It was bad. It was so-" Memories of the bodies - or what was left of them - filled his mind and he crumbled, beginning to sob as he buried his face in Sam's sweater.

[pastelbatfandoms]

The Red Widow - Marvel AU

A/N: This is an Alternate Timeline set in the Marvel universe. As I am a reality shifter and this is one of My Desired Realities, most of what I write come from memories as Lilianne mixed with scenarios. So if things seem out of chronological order or "characters" seem different that is why. Also Black Widow is still alive in this.

Part 1

Part 3- Code Red

Present Day (2020)

Zemo, Bucky and Sam try and figure out a way to stop the flag smashers as they relax at Zemo's place. Bucky and Sam sit on the couch as I sit at the counter working on my computer to come up with a plan.

Zemo, still in his robe, stands in the kitchen staring at me. Bucky notices him looking at glares at him. "Stop staring at her Zemo and get dressed."

Zemo finally stops staring and replies, "I was already going to, no need for a reminder." As Sam rolls his eyes, then glances at his phone texting someone.

I glance at Zemo out of the corner of my eye, scowling when I see him still staring at me with a smirk, then turn back to my computer. "Zemo if you keep looking at me like that I think someone is going to punch you in the face," I warn glancing at Bucky, "Or I will."

"She's right," Bucky agrees, "So stop being an idiot." Zemo smirks, chuckling at Bucky, "I can't help it whenever she's around."

Bucky scoffs at him, "That's because your a flirt and you think she's playing hard to get." Zemo chuckles at that as he winks at me.

I roll my eyes not bothering to respond. As Zemo leans on the counter smirking at me. "Well when you two are done flirting, I suppose we should come up with a plan." Sam speaks up not bothering to look up.

"Are you really?" Bucky asks, arms crossed with his legs up on the coffee table as he glares at Zemo.

"No we're not." I respond, with a look of reassurance towards my boyfriend. Zemo and I had been over for years, I was with Bucky now. Zemo only smirks as he looks at Bucky, "Don't tell me your jelouse James?"

Bucky scowls at him, "I'm not just stop trying to flirt with her." Zemo raises his eyebrows in mock innocence, "But she likes playing hard to get don't you?" He teases.

I sigh frustrated as I move over to the next chair away from my former boss.

Zemo noticing me move, decides to then sit closer as he moves to the chair next to me, "What's wrong? Don't like me getting too close?" leaning even closer, he says low in my ear, "Are you angry at me or just annoyed? Or maybe you like me too much and that's why your trying to ignore me?"

"Are you serious? Of course I'm angry at you," I glare at him, hissing low, "Are we really going to do this around Bucky?"

Zemo chuckles leaning back as he looks at me, "Aww that's adorable, you really do still have feelings for me, you just don't want them to come out."

"What feelings?" I shot back, "The ones you faked or the ones you manipulated me into having?"

Zemo just smirks, "You're adorable when your angry..." As he leans in closer to me.

I shrink back, moving away from him. "I need some air. Bucky come with me. " Bucky glares at Zemo, getting up as I grab his hand. Zemo scoffs, rolling his eyes as he grabs a cigar.

Once outside I lean my head back against the cool cement wall with a sigh. I hated how Zemo still got to me, but I reminded myself that it was because of being under his and Hydra's control since I was a child. At least Bucky had gotten me out, we had always protected one another.

Bucky looks at me with that same care and protectiveness in his eyes, as he sighs, hesitating.

"What is it Bucky?" I ask, "I know you want to say something."

Bucky grabs my hand then still looking at me, "I'm just scared for you, of what will happen when we face off with the flag smashers."

"Hey you're a super soldier. I'm a Widow agent. We'll be fine." I reassure him, squeezing his hand.

"You're right, I just worry about you, I don't want to lose you." Bucky sighs, with a kiss to my head.

I smile softly, hugging him. "I know, I don't want to lose you either. Honestly right now the flag smashers are not my main concern."

Bucky looks down at me, pulling me closer, "Is it Zemo?"

"Yeah..." I admit, "I'm still not happy you had him join us. You know what just seeing him does...I mean you of all people should know how it feels."

Bucky sighs looking away, his expression serious as ever but a bit more subdued, "I know, I understand but we needed all the help we could get. Once this is all dealt with, we'll deal with Zemo. I promise."

"Ok..." I relent, "I guess I'll deal with him until then. But don't be surprised if he ends up with a black eye if he keeps flirting with me."

Bucky chuckles at that, looking at me, "I don't know why he thinks he has a shot. You're mine after all."

"He just sees me as a missed opportunity that's all. trying to manipulate me to his side again."

Bucky nods, squeezing my hand, "I get it. I hate seeing him tease you and try to get you upset. I don't like how he pushes your buttons, but I'm here if you need me."

"I know. I love you Bucky." I say leaning my head on him.

Bucky smiles as he holds me, playing with my hair. "I love you too Lili."

"Also if you decide to deck him I won't stop you." I smirk. Bucky smirks back, "Ok but seriously if he tries anything like that again I really will punch him no matter where we are or who we're in front of." He promises.

"Sam may not like that." I joke with a laugh.

Bucky just shrugs, shaking his head, "Sam understands though, he knows I'd do anything to protect you. Besides he hates Zemo as much as I do so I don't he'd care much."

"True." I take a breath, right now we needed him on our side though. "Ok I think I'm good enough to go back in."

Bucky looks down at me, concerned. "Are you sure your okay? Or still angry?"

"I'm alright. Widows are good at hiding our emotions." We had to be, even though I was a hero now, well Vigilante, the training and inclination still stuck.

Bucky nods not saying anything as he takes my hand leading us back to the house, or penthouse rather. Bucky holds me close as we walk in, noticing Zemo stare at me again with a smirk.

"I'm glad you two made up," Zemo says sarcastically, "Now if you're both done can we get back to the table to plan?"

"We weren't fighting. I was getting away from you." I glare at him. Bucky squeezes my shoulder to calm me down.

"Aww did I get on your nerves darling?" Zemo asks teasing as Bucky scowls at him, "Come on sweetheart you can't hide your true feelings from me, we both know you're still in love with me."

"Why the hell would I-" I start to snap at him, then shake my head with a sigh. Arguing with him was pointless.

"I can tell," Zemo replies his tone cocky, "Just because you and James are official doesn't mean you don't still have feelings for me and I can tell you hate it when I tease you because that means I still have an effect on you, am I wrong?"

Bucky glares at him, pulling me close, "Zemo would you just shut up and do what we brought you here to do."

Zemo sits back with a chuckle, smug as he shrugs. "Fine I'll stop teasing, for now."

Bucky looks at me, I can tell he feels bad about how Zemo's acting but hoping I wouldn't let it get to me as he holds me tightly. I lean my head on Bucky's chest, grateful to have him with me. It had been a long time coming but I was glad we were finally together.

Bucky and I look at the computer then as we all try to plan out how to stop the flag smashers, even Zemo is focused. A good while later and we're still trying to figure it out.

"Find anything yet?" I ask Sam, trying not to let Bucky distract me as he rubs my back. I give him a small smile and he smiles warmly at me in return. Then goes back to concentrating on the computer.

Sam frowns, answering me, "Nothing yet, still trying to figure out their plan and where they could possibly be, it's a bit complicated." Putting all his concentration on the screen before him.

Zemo gets up then, leaning against the wall as he stretches. "So far we've come up with nothing," he sighs, "However I'm starting to think their just laying low for now which is why there haven't been any attacks in the past few weeks, they could be planning something big."

Sam nods, "Alright I'll try and find anything that can confirm where they are hiding. I'll let you all know what I find."

"In the meantime I'm going to take a break, it's exhausting trying to figure this all out. I could use a drink." Zemo grabs his cigar case and walks off to make a drink.

My attention draws back to Sam as I watch him search through the computer and files we have on the flag smashers, examining every possible angle or whereabout. After awhile he looks up at me, "I'll keep looking but I haven't found much yet. You'd think some form of movement would have been made by now. Maybe they've moved on somewhere else."

"i doubt they've moved on," I tell him, "But let me know what you find. I'm going to train for a bit." By that I meant blow off steam.

Sam grins back, knowing what I really meant. "Okay sounds good, I'll keep digging, holler if you need me." A friendly smile lighting up his dark features.

I give him a warm smile back then walk out of the room, heading back outside where there was a punching bag hanging on the rafters. Zemo comes out then, watching me, a drink and cigar in hand.

"You look frustrated, want some company darling?" Zemo asks with a smirk, sipping his drink.

"Not yours." I tell him. Putting on my padded fingerless leather gloves. Zemo scoffs but continues to watch me and the way I move as I train, reminding him of the old days...

"Zemo can you go leer somewhere else?" I scowl, punching the bag, wishing it was his face.

Zemo smirks, laughing a little, "I'm just watching that's all, I'm not doing anything...just enjoying the view." Leaning against the wall closest to the punching bag, purposefully in my line of sight.

I roll my eyes with a sigh. Glad Bucky isn't out here. I stop long enough to ask, "Zemo what exactly do you want?"

Zemo raises an eyebrow at me, "Me? Nothing sweetheart, just watching you train and trying to piss you off so you give me your attention. It worked too." He observes taking a puff of his cigar.

Of course it did. Because his presence brought back memories I had tried to bury, of him instructing me and the other Widows on how to fight, how to use firearms and teaching me how to fence. His presence always brought back memories, most of them not good. The good ones were tainted anyway.

Zemo keeps smirking at me, putting his drink down and snuffing the cigar out as he laces his fingers hands together. "I know you still want me dear, No matter who your with now deep down you still miss me."

I grit my teeth. Almost kicking the punching bag off the rafters. Remember your training, don't let him get to me...I hated that I had to resort back to that, but he really gave me no choice.

Zemo walks behind me then, standing so close I can feel the heat coming off his body, and his breath on my skin as he grins, wanting to test me.

"Zemo...back off." I would only warn him once. I close my eyes, tensing at his presence so close to me.

Zemo chuckles but doesn't move, in fact he leans into me even closer, brushing a hand across my shoulder blades, "Look at me Kitten." He murmurs.

My eyes snap open at the old pet name and the order of his tone. That was it. I turn swiftly, my elbow at his throat as I pin him against the wall with a glare. "You don't call me that or get to give me orders. Not anymore."

Zemo just stares back at me with a snarky grin. He likes when you try and put him in his place, you used to do it all the time when he was training you. Only difference being that there wasn't a bunch of other Widows watching you to try and see who wins. Or what he would do back.

Zemo smirks with that same arrogant expression I always remembered him having. He doesn't try and fight back, he simply looks at me, enjoying this, enjoying seeing the fight I still had in me.

I glare at him awhile longer, ready to punch that smirk off his face. I don't notice my other fist raised when suddenly I feel a hand on my arm and a low voice behind me, "Lili he's not worth it." Bucky says behind me as I let go, when I do my elbow at Zemo's throat is replaced with Bucky's hand, his vibranium one. "Leave her alone if you want to keep breathing." Bucky threatens, squeezing Zemo's neck slightly for emphasis.

Zemo keeps looking at me though, that smirk still not leaving. He manages to still talk unfortunately, "Typical... you still need the winter soldier to fight your battles for you. " But he can tell he lost this fight and it pisses him off.

I glare at him, "The only reason your still alive is because of Bucky."

Zemo looks me right in the eyes and nods, "Yeah I know, but your not...woman enough to put me in my place so you had him do it instead." Bucky tightens his grip on Zemo's throat then as he chokes.

"Bucky let him go," I tell him a little too calmly.

"Are you sure? Cause I don't mind giving him less breathing room." Bucky asks pissed as his grip tightens even more.

"No I got this." I smirk darkly, as Bucky lets him go, I back hand Zemo across the face, hard, cutting his lip. "That woman enough for you?" I snap, glaring at him before I walk off.

Zemo wipes the blood off his lip, smiling darkly and laughs as I walk away. "Still feisty as ever." As he walks off himself but I can still his arrogance was hiding how upset he was.

I knew Zemo wouldn't leave that lying down. He always had to have the last word or hit. His cavalier attitude was just an act, but if he tried anything I'd be ready.

Zemo knew you would, however his ego was damaged and he was definitely pissed off but for now he decided to not try anything, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, he was still very possessive over you and still likes having control that was true but you were still dear to him, he still cared despite what he did then and now but he can't help it, his feelings were still there and they weren't going away any time soon.

I try and decompress as Bucky rubs my shoulders. Whispering in my ear not to let Zemo get to me. Bucky's always been the one there for me, my anchor, I'm glad to have him, feeling much more calm and safe with him around. I know that I can talk to him and can trust that if things go too heated or too real that I have him to keep me sane.

I can feel the tension leave my body as Bucky rubs my shoulders, but I'm still a bit uneasy and irritated because of what happened with Zemo. I know I can easily take him now if I really wanted to but the fact that he's trying to get under my skin and it was working...

Bucky can feel my temper start to rise again and he's not letting his guard down, he tries to distract me by talking to me causally about something, to keep my mind off of Zemo, as he continues rubbing my shoulders, keeping the conversation light and joking, to keep the tension from rising any further.

I smile up at him, this is something my adoptive father Phil Coulson would do when I got too riled up on a mission, keep things light and soothing to calm me down, I was grateful Bucky could do it as well.

Bucky knows how to keep me grounded after all these years and I can feel my mind start to relax as I close my eyes, comforted and calm at his touch keeping my mind focused on something else and not letting me think too much.

Just then an alerts sounds on my computer. I step out of Bucky's touch, despite not wanting to and go look at the alert. "I put a tracker on one of the flag smashers to alert if they were in the area. They're close by." I tell Sam and Bucky.

Sam turns around and looks at the computer and nods. "Good thinking, lets go." Bucky nods back and looks over at me. "Cmon. Don't let Zemo get to you. I know he tries to get under your skin but you are on your A game when your angry, so just let that be your edge." Bucky stares back at me, waiting for us to come with.

But I shake my head, "I don't think it'll work in my favor this time... I think I should stay here, keep you guys posted on where they are. And HE should definitely stay here." I give a pointed look at Zemo, knowing he may very well try and help the flag smashers if it fit his interests.

"You and Sam go, I'll be alright." Putting a hand on Bucky's chest when he starts to protest, "Hey I have my own back up remember." Shadows start to encircle me as I said that and my eyes glowed slightly. My Guardian Demons would protect me.

Bucky pauses for a moment then nods giving a slight smile at the mention of your guardian demons, he had met them not too long ago, yes it had freaked him out a bit but he trusted them now, they had always been by your side, they would protect you.

Bucky gives me one final kiss and then turns to Sam. Sam gives a small smile then says, "Alright let's go and take them down." As they both head out to fight the flag smashers.

Sam and Bucky disappear from view and I am now left alone with Zemo for the time being. We can feel the tension in the air as neither of us speaks for a moment, until I mumble "I need a drink." As I turn around walking into the kitchen, rummaging around in Zemo's alcohol cabinet before I find some russian vodka, "That'll do."

Zemo chuckles from his seat on the couch, liking that you went straight for the russian vodka, his favorite. But he keeps quiet, watching you, waiting to see if you'd say anything more or make a move to drink straight from the bottle.

I'm not drinking from the bottle....though tempting. I grab a glass instead, a fancy one of course Zemo would own nothing less.

Zemo chuckles even louder now as he sees you went for the fancy vodka glass. He always liked to have sense of style and seemed you followed in his footsteps.

"What are you laughing at? All you have are fancy glasses Zemo." I mumble, annoyed.

Not being able to contain himself, Zemo bursts out laughing, as he shakes his head, the rich accent evident even in his laugh, knowing he's annoying me and enjoying it. "I'm laughing because I love seeing how annoyed you look right now. And what do you mean all I have are fancy glasses? Can a man not have a sense of style when it comes to his drink ware?"

I roll my eyes, not bothering to dignify his response with and answer as I take a sip, leaning on the wall.

Zemo keeps chuckling as he looks at me, thinking how cute I looked when I was upset. "Keep laughing finding nemo." I reply knowing he hated that his name rhymes with Nemo, "You'll be back at the raft soon enough."

Zemo stops laughing then, yeah I'd struck a nerve. I could tell he didn't like that I'd call him that, because I knew he'd take it personally. It was my turn to smirk. Had a feeling that would work.

Seeing how pissed off Zemo got just by that simple nickname alone, but still trying to appear calm, I couldn't resist taunting him further, he'd been doing it to me all day, it was my turn. "Aww what's the matter Captain Nemo, strike a nerve?"

Zemo's eyes fill with anger and he clenches his fists but he still doesn't say anything. As I causally sip my vodka, I knew that he was pissed and a fight was probably going to happen if I kept this up. Probably not wise to poke the bear, but I wasn't scared of him, not anymore.

"Oh cmon, my words are nothing compared to what you've said." Or did, I thought darkly as I scoff, "Your just upset you can't control me anymore."

I can feel Zemo getting more angry because I was right and he knew it. He couldn't control me like he used to, I was stronger now, and he hated it. He glares at me, but keeps silent trying to keep his cool demeanor but I hit him right where it hurts and it was just a matter of time before he snapped.

I glance at him, I had known this was going to happen, it was only a matter of time. Better now than later. Why did he think I'd stayed behind.

Zemo finally speaks then his voice low and controlled, "You've won this time Lilianne, but just know this...there will be consequences for you and your actions, you haven't gotten rid of me, not yet."

"My actions?" I lock my eyes with his, then without a thought shadows appear and I am behind him, resting an arm on the couch he is sitting on. "My consequences and what would those be? What about the consequences of your actions?" I hiss into his ear, I can feel Lilith wanting to come to the surface, I let her a bit.

Zemo's eyes widen as I appear behind him, knowing I had caught him off guard. I can feel Lilith coming to the surface and she's not going take kindly to him whatsoever, wanting to rip his throat out for the hell of it and he feels it too.

I can feel Zemo's adrenaline pumping as his heart beats faster, scared now that I'm letting Lilith take over. "Hm are you actually scared? I was hoping for more of a fight." I taunt.

He looks at me and I see the fear behind his eyes even though he tries to hid it behind a smug smile. "Cmon I know your still angry that I bruised your ego or am I the one in control now?" I could smell his fear as I dragged a sharp nail down his cheek, drawing blood. He hadn't called me kitten for nothing. "I'll take that as a yes." I smirked.

Zemo can't believe your doing this to him, like you don't care what he's trying to put on and you can see right through him. Zemo sees' you in a different light now as he looks at you with a mixture of anger and admiration.

I back off then with a scoff, "Way to put up a fight Nemo, your not worth it." Yes I was goading him but fuck if I cared.

Zemo's rage starts boiling over than at the hated nickname. His ego hating that you were the one in control now, as his eyes go from a calm green to a more intense and bright green. Zemo moves in quick then as he grabs me and pins me to the wall a hand to my throat, as he tries to keep calm while feeding all these emotions which is harder to do now.

I grin, my eyes lighting up. "Well looks like that was it." My own hazel eyes darken, I was just as pissed but better at hiding it.

The look just makes Zemo keep the grip on my throat tighter. The calm collected was barely their now as I could see the more unhinged Zemo that was boiling inside.

Not letting him keep the upper hand, I wrap my legs around his arm, biting his hand to let go. Hard. Blood oozes from his hand and he grimaces letting go. Zemo was pissed at letting me get the upper hand and losing his cool like this, especially in front of me after how much time he'd spent to try and keep up that facade in front of me. But without a word he grabs the side of my head and slams the side of me onto the floor.

I let his arm go then. As I feel the hit, my eyes becoming unfocused for a moment and dizzy. But I shake it off, even though my temple was throbbing, I glare up at him as I manage to get to my feet, "You son of a bitch."

At my words Zemo lunges for me again and attacks. I phase then his fists going through me. At his look of surprise I said, "New trick I picked up. Like it?" I didn't say that it shown up as a defense mechanism after Hydra. No one could touch me now unless I allowed it.

Zemo's eyes widen as I phase through his fists, he'd never seen anyone phase through attacks like that and now he was completely taken off guard. A new trick? He would have to find out about this one later. I notice he was staring at me impressed now as much as it bothered him.

I knew then I had the upper hand. Thanks Lilith. I then punched him in the face hard, sending him flying. Hm looks like the demon of wrath was out too...I was strong but not super soldier strong despite being given the serum.

Zemo is sent flying back from the intense blow and it takes him a moment to regain himself. He lays there for a moment, angry but impressed as well. You seem stronger than before and for some reason he finds that even more attractive and this just makes his anger and thirst for you even worse. His eyes distracted as he looks up at you.

"You want to know how powerful I've become, without you?" I look down at him, emotionless. My hands start becoming shadows as claws form around them and my shadow king emerges. I could kill him so easily, I should.

Zemo sees my hands start becoming shadows and that intense, emotionless gaze on him just makes him that much more enthralled with me. Almost like the shadows are calling to him. Zemo feels so entranced by me now and the demonic side I had let out. His rage was still there but it was starting to lessen and a feeling that he couldn't quite describe awakened inside of him. The urge to submit getting even stronger.

I grin darkly, good. Killing him would be easy then. I start to raise a clawed hand. But then light surrounds the darkness as my eyes glow with a blue light. "Lilianne. Stop." A voice pierces the through the darkness in my mind. "Lucifer." I whisper, surprised he had stopped me. He was The Devil after all. "Yes," Lucifer answers, "But even I know revenge isn't worth it." But he deserved it, they all did after what they did to me, after what they took from me. "They do," Lucifer agreed in my head, "But not from you. If you do this, he brings back that darkness. He wins." I falter then realizing he was right.

Zemo is staring at me, entranced. This could be his second chance to make you his again. He was still taken aback and surprised by the shadow demon inside you. Zemo watches as the darkness within you starts to change to light and your eyes glow more, you seem to be fighting the urge to take revenge and he can see the struggle going on inside you between you and Lucifer. And it's clear that the urge to take revenge is trying to gain control again, Zemo knew the feeling, but Lucifer seemed to be winning at the moment.

"Talk to him instead." Lucifer tells me. I shake my head, "Those like him aren't compelled by words, only actions."

Zemo starts to slowly get up to his knees, his hands out. His eyes locked onto mine. They way I notice him look at me shows that he wants me to go fully dark again, hoping I will.

"Lucifer's right. Your not winning not this time." I back off then, walking away. "If you want to talk follow me, if not then we're done here."

As I walk away I hear Zemo call out to you, I had never heard him sound so desperate before, "WAIT!! I want to talk! I just...don't know what to say." So he followed. Not ready leave it at that.

I look back at him, "You don't have to. I will. Think you can listen?" My look would have made Melinda May proud. Actually that whole interaction would have.

Zemo looked back at me finally collecting himself. "Yes. I can listen...and I will. I'm sorry it's just....your demon side. It's so captivating and...I want it so badly."

I sighed, "I know....you always did, that's one of the problems."

"And I know that, I know it's an issue. I just...I can't stop myself. I've tried and I always fail. But I want you to be like that again, I just want to control you so badly." Zemo looks at me longing now.

I tried not show it but the words hurt. A small part of me thought....it didn't matter, we were done. "I knew it, you'll never change. You can't. I'm done. There's no use talking to a narcissist." I shake my head, looking away.

Zemo didn't like that and it shows as he grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Narcissist? I never thought of myself as one, but if that's really what you think so be it. But you can't say that I never loved you because that's a lie. I loved you more than anyone...but you just kept pushing me away. And in a moment of weakness I lost control. That's it."

I scoff, looking him in the eyes, "Loved? That's rich, you may have been able to convince me of that before but I'm not a child anymore. manipulation and mind control is not love."

Zemo sighs his expression serious still but sadness lurked behind his eyes. "You're right. I was obsessed with you. I was never good at controlling myself especially when it came to you and that's no excuse. I was awful to you and I admit that , I was possessive, but I was also trying to protect you. I even tried changing and being better for you but I always fail. I just wanted you to see how much I loved you."

"You didn't love me, you loved my power." I wrenched my face from his touch, "You wanna talk, lets talk." It all came out then, rolling off my tongue before I could stop it. "Let's talk about how you had The Winter Soldier kill my parents so you could take me, so Hydra could "perfect" my gifts. So you could use me and my own demons for your own benefit. You were their when they...tortured me at only 12 years old. You may have said some soothing words but you still let them even when I begged you not to. They made me into The Red Widow, you made me into your darkness. A tool nothing more, emotionally and physically manipulating me until I broke...Then come to find out all that missing time wasn't just trauma and PTSD but I was a sleeper agent, for years! Then you had Bucky get me back after he helped me escape. Knowing I had to come back or you would have made him kill me. No other options. Does that sound like love to you?!"

Zemo just listens to you, silent the whole time. Because everything that I had just described was the truth. He had used you and made you into a weapon. A twisted things to use against other people. Now that he hears it in that way, the pain in your voice, it showed just how badly he'd used you and he can't help but feel even more guilt than before. Yes a part of him had enjoyed it but another part of him had no other choice, they would have...he looked down at the ground then, you didn't remember everything of course not.

"No, I-I can't justify anything I did to you." He said, willing to take all the blame for what they did, what they threatened to do. "I took everything from you and the guilt I feel right now is nothing compared to how you felt all those years. It's my fault and I can't change it or do anything. Nothing I say or do can ever bring any justice or peace or forgiveness for what I put you through."

"You're right, you can't. That fact that I still have nightmares, that I still let you affect me..." I trail off, sitting down, my head in my hands. I didn't want to appear weak not in front of him, but I was tired. Of fighting. Of everything.

Zemo is still standing there, not moving an inch. He just stands there completely still and silent. His mind racing, as guilt hits him again over what he did.

"Well this is new. You at a loss for words." I can't help saying.

Zemo couldn't speak, he didn't know what to say. He just stood there frozen as he stared at Lilianne. the anger having been replaced with remorse and guilt for what he had done, for what he had let happen. But he feels like he deserves some punishment for how terrible his actions had been then and now.

"Good. Now you know how I felt for years." I lean back, trying to stop from shaking, willing the memories away. But his words while I was strapped down in The Red Room echoed in my mind always on loop. {You'll be alright Princess. Just a little longer. You can handle this.}

Zemo is just standing there, his breathing getting heavier as his eyes start to water, he seems to sense which memories are coming up for me and he can't stand to see me like this anymore, I can see it in his eyes.

I can tell but I can't afford to offer him sympathy, not now. I walk out before I break down.

That's when his guilt and regret overtake him, Zemo looks away from me as I walk out, falling to the floor, he breaks down. All the regrets and feelings hitting him all at once, breaking him as he lets out all the regret and how much he hates himself for doing this to you.

I lock myself in the bathroom. I had won this time, but it was a hollow victory. Hearing him actually in pain and guilt over what he'd done, makes me finally break down myself. Not being able to hold it back anymore I cry, falling to the tile floor. Not just over what had happened with me but over him, over us....

[copperbadge]

Sam, you are NOT a “weirdo.” The neurology of the human mind exists on a spectrum; ALL humans are *biologically* “neurodiverse” and have extremely variable interior experiences. One of the most difficult concepts for ANY writer to grasp is that of “other minds, other perspectives”, and on that you already WELL ahead of the curve. 😊😎

Yikes, my response to this turned into a whole-ass essay so first, two things:

1. Thank you for the compliment, a number of people reached out to tell me that I write very well for people who see images when they read. That is extremely reassuring so I very much appreciate it.

2. I’m about to say a lot of shit that is only vaguely, tangentially related to what you’re saying here so my usual disclaimer applies: I appreciate what you said and I am not yelling AT you, I am yelling NEAR you. :D 

So. On the one hand, yes, humanity is diverse and we can only be ourselves, or a version of ourselves that is tolerable to live with. On the other hand, culture also sets down rules that say this is usual, this is unusual, this is acceptable, this is unacceptable. We don't live in a spectacular culture for "this is acceptable" but most of us are aware that what we think of as "normal" is narrow and fucked-up. But it’s tough to go beyond that to discuss how we relate to “normal”. 

It's something I'm grappling with and it's not something that it's easy to grapple with visibly because of that -- because the minute you call yourself weird or a freak or anything that denotes "not normal", or even when you just talk about “normal” as a concept, people reassure you that normal is an illusion, it's a construct. Which is true! And it’s good to model self-acceptance for people who are still struggling with that. 

The problem is that it limits how much you can discuss feeling outside of normal. And I do feel that way, because of the ADHD diagnosis and other stuff too. I feel that way a lot, these days. Like, a painful amount. Like, a questioning who I am on some very basic levels amount. So...there have to be ways to talk about the reality of normal. 

While normal is a construct, it’s still there -- as a culture we have a concept of normal that matters, regardless of whether it ought. We don’t have great pathways to say “Hey, I’m struggling with feeling like I’m not normal” because people want to assure you that you don’t have to feel normal...but sometimes you want to, because normal is what is culturally approved and it’s hard to be an outlier. Worse, if you’re visibly outside of normal, we tend to very violently police you for it. 

I’m lucky in that I’m pretty ordinary-looking, so I don’t get policed very often, but I‘m very aware of the policing of invisible disability because I have siblings with learning disabilities, and my whole family has some degree of mental illness. Lately I have watched my mother struggle because she needs aids to walk and feels like people are staring at her and saying she’s old and of no worth, a drain on society. The world reinforces that by doing things like making her get to the airport FOUR HOURS EARLY in order to get wheelchair service (and then “losing” her name so she still almost misses her flight). 

You don’t have to be normal, but if you aren’t, you still have to put up with the dickheads who think you should be, who will punish you for deviance. There's a disparity between "healthy ways for you to feel about this" and "how society will feel about this". 

To circle back to my mother, who internalized the ableism and misogyny of the 1950s and 60s and barely escaped being labeled a Fridge Mommy in the 80s because of my brother’s autism....I was raised in a family where there was a very strong value placed on being normal. It was particularly strong for me, because I was the normal one. My parents could not handle the idea that all of their kids had special needs. They needed me to be normal, not least because if I was normal I could help raise my siblings, which I did. And that's been my identity my whole life: the normal one.

Normal is a construct but unfortunately it’s the construct on which my entire identity has hung for forty years.

And my attitude -- not that this was conscious -- was that if you have to be forced into that role, if you must fulfill the exhausting demands of being normal, then you should also get the rewards. The more normal you are, the more power you have. That’s incredibly unhealthy but it’s even more harmful not to admit it happened. And so I have been shoving myself into this identity of “Oh no, that’s not me. I’m not disabled, I’m not queer, I’m not special, I’m a mediocre white dude” because to admit otherwise is to relinquish the protection of normal. 

So...I wish we had a word like “normal” but with an extra connotation of “Look, I know normal is just a privileged idea of what everyone should be but it’s also heavily enforced in our society so we need to acknowledge it still exists”. 

I’m not normal. I am a weirdo. I’m more a weirdo now than I’ve ever been. There has to be a space to say that, to say “Normal exists and I’m not it and I feel fucked up about it” because how else do you rebuild an identity? 

I think it is important to reassure people that normal is an idea, not a law of nature, and I appreciate everyone who chimed in with that. But I think it’s also important to acknowledge that it’s really hard to suddenly find yourself outside of normal, and start thinking about ways in which we can support that struggle when we see someone stuck in it. Maybe disability activists have something to say about this and I’m covering old ground; I’m not well-read beyond the basics. I don’t know what the answer is myself, I’m still really stuck in the middle of this, but I think there must be more options open to us than the reassurance that normal isn’t real. 

[firefly-in-darkness]

Worst Idea Ever [Part Ten]

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Series Summary → Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what’s the worst that could happen?

Part Nine Summary → An opportunity presents itself, will Bucky finally be able to talk about how he's feeling?

Word Count → 1.5k

Part Warnings → 18+, swearing, angst, hurt. a smidge of forced intimacy involving Bucky and Jackie.

Beta → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → well, let me know what you think... sorry, it's been several weeks again since I posted the previous part.

Series List // Masterlist

Previously in Part Nine: Natasha carefully slipped out of the lounge, tiptoeing so not to disturb Y/N and Wanda as they slept on the couch. She pulled the cell from her jacket pocket and quickly typed a message.

She’ll be there. Don’t fuck this up Barnes.

It wasn’t what Y/N had expected at all from Tony and Pepper. She was thinking they’d be in one of the fancy hotels in the Upper East Side with extravagant displays, prim and perfect flowers and countless members of guests and butlers.

Yet, the cream silks and gold accents adorning the entrance to the converted barn welcomed Y/N and Natasha. It held the rustic charm with its wooden beams. The bright wildflowers brought it to life.

“You must have made a good impression,” Natasha smirked while they both took in the intimate number of seats for the ceremony.

“I don’t know what to say. I guess my orgasm fuelled nightmare was enough to seal the invite,” Y/N laughed as they collected the order of service, showing Natasha the true identity of one half of the happy couple, “And I didn’t know Pepper was Virginia.”

Guests slowly took their seats, light-hearted conversations and laughter filled the space. It made Y/N feel warm and welcomed by those that she didn’t know, and she felt happiness bloom when she greeted Sam, Wanda, and Victor. She pulled away from Sam’s hold, and that’s when she caught sight of Bucky.

She sucked in a breath, the suit fitted him perfectly and wrapped around his muscular arms and thick thighs. What stood out the most was his hair, he’d cut the longer locks, choosing a shorter disheveled look, it reminded her of the photos she’d seen of him before he joined the army. Bucky was already handsome, but now that he wasn’t hiding behind those dark tendrils, he was glowing.

Without hesitation, Y/N raised her hand to bring his attention to the group, but she stopped short. Jackie followed into the barn behind him, laced her arm through his, and whispered something to make him laugh.

The warmth of Wanda’s reassuring hand guided Y/N away from the couple that had just walked in and helped her settle into their seats to await the start of the ceremony.

The high, the happiness and joy that Y/N had felt no longer existed, she plummeted back to reality. Bucky hurt her; he didn’t care. The painful part of it all was that she still wanted to be his.

“I can’t do this,” Y/N whispered to herself, watching Bucky sit down and Jackie blocking him from view.

“Yes, you can, he’s a fool,” Wanda reassured, “The ceremony is about to start, and you can get away later if you really need to.”

Y/N nodded, straightening herself in the seat and focusing on Tony at the end of the aisle. His dashing, expensive, suit fit him like a glove as if moulded to his figure perfectly. The arrogant yet endearing grin crinkled at his eyes. She saw the way his heart stopped, and eyes blew wide to the sound of the piano and Pepper gliding her way down in an elegant white pantsuit.

Their words, tender and sweet yet also matching their personalities was enough to bring a small tear to Y/N’s eye and a burst of laughter from her lips. She felt a pair of eyes on her while the vows were being spoken, turning to find Bucky looking at her across the aisle. Jackie was short enough to no longer be in the way, unable to miss the familiar blues that made her stomach flip and her heart soar.

The sound of applause and cheers broke the trance and Y/N watched the happy couple skipping down the aisle, hand in hand. The flurries of confetti filled the space between them.

Once it settled, the guests were greeted with flutes of champagne and canapes, no expense spared here. Bucky was no longer over by his seat, but Y/N caught sight of him walking out of the barn with Jackie. Her fluttering heart dropped once more.

“I’m going to congratulate Tony and Pepper then duck out of here,” she told Natasha and Wanda as they all sipped and nibbled.

“Are you sure?” Natasha raised her brow, “who’s plus one am I going to be if you leave?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you’ll fit in just right with this lot on your side.”

“Fine, but talk to Bucky before you leave,” she playfully scolded in a way that Y/N knew she was anything but playful.

Y/N drained the contents of her glass, placed it on a vacant tray and navigated her way through the barn towards the happy couple with the hope of avoiding a certain Bucky Barnes. Even if Natasha had requested it.

Bucky’s fingers ran through his hair, still not used to the shorter length as he spoke to Jackie, hoping for her to get the hint that this wasn’t working, that he wasn’t interested in hooking up with her anymore, or anyone for that matter. She had pulled him aside the second he’d walked into the barn, didn’t even have a chance to speak to his friends, let alone Y/N.

Jackie was trying to convince him, her hands smoothing out against the lapels of his jacket, claiming his chest, “you’re not the settling down type, let's keep this casual thing going?”

Bucky was no longer paying attention to her, distracted by the woman now talking to his boss and wife. She looked stunning, and the nervous smile she gave them had his heart fluttering.

Jackie gripped his face and pulled him into a kiss, completely shocked by her actions his eyes remained wide open as she wrapped herself around him. He’d never felt more uncomfortable and humiliated, especially when he saw Y/N shaking her head and walking away.

He pushed Jackie away by her shoulders and glared at her, “Stop! Just for once, listen to me. I am not interested. This thing that was going on, isn’t going to happen again. It’s been months Jackie; you need to move on.”

Bucky left Jackie, rooted to the spot with her mouth agape and eyes wide. He jogged in the direction Y/N had gone in the hope to catch up to her. His heart hammered in his chest, and that wasn’t from the sudden exercise, he was finally going to talk to Y/N and tell her how he feels. Even if she rejects him, at least she’ll know.

The car park was full and as if fate would have it, and much to Bucky’s delight, Y/N’s car was blocked in by the Stark-Potts’ limousine. She had no chance of getting away quickly and this was the moment Bucky had been hoping for. He didn't want to corner her, just to have a few minutes to get his feelings out and hope that one day she'll talk to him, and if he was lucky, be his friend again.

Her arms gestured in anger at Stark’s driver and Bucky winced, knowing Hogan was getting an earful and decided to intervene, calling out her name as he rounded the vehicle.

Y/N’s head snapped up and her eyes glowered at him, and she folded her arms. He could feel the anger and hurtsimmering across the few feet that remained between them, “what do you want James?”

“Nuh, you don’t get to call me that,” he kept his tone even and nodded towards her car, “we need to talk.”

He could see the hesitation, the tightness in her hold but then she dropped her arms and unlocked the vehicle. Bucky whizzed into the passenger seat, not letting Y/N change her mind. The sweet smell of Y/N’s perfume and the warmth radiating from her closeness was intoxicating, regardless of the slight edge in the atmosphere.

Bucky was completely wrapped up in finally being with her, he couldn’t help but stare at her profile while she intently looked ahead. He followed the slope of her nose, the curve of her cheek and the swell of her lips, completely lost in memorising every aspect of her features. Bucky’s gaze travelled down her neck, across to her shoulders, and down her arms, drinking in the glow of her skin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Her voice, quieter than before yet remained stern, snapped him out of the trance.

“Can you at least look at me?”

Y/N shuffled awkwardly, turning in the seat, and resting her arm on the steering wheel, shrugging her shoulder nonchalantly. Her face was devoid of any emotion and caused Bucky to think twice about his confession. Only for a split second, Y/N’s mask that she was hiding behind slipped, her face softening before it returned to neutrality. It was enough to give him the courage to speak.

“I love you.”

Continue Here...

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[gretavandutchy]

blue hour | three

{sam kiszka x fem!reader} blue hour is the short period of time before sunrise or after sunset when the sun is just below the horizon. indirect sunlight is evenly diffused and takes on a blue shade.

summary: traveling the world as greta van fleet’s touring photographer seemed like a dream come true, but as the days pass you worry it may just be your worst nightmare. work is rapidly merging with pleasure, and as feelings change you’re left to wonder: does what happens on tour really stay on tour?

word count: 6k

warnings: language, marijuana

The day of your departure to meet up with the band arrived faster than you’d expected. Despite the fact that you’d been buzzing around for weeks on end getting everything in order, it still felt as if the day had crept up on you out of the blue. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t prepared, or that you were running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but you were panicking if only slightly.

This time, the panic was not due to your own idiocy or any sense of urgency. Merely, the reality of it all seemed to finally be worming its way into your head. Before that day, it almost seemed like a dream. It was something that was too good to be true, and only now was it starting to sink in that it was happening. You were going on the road with one of your favorite bands, and living your dream.

You were just trying to keep the anxiety under wraps, at least for Kyle’s sake. While he’d been fairly confident in you, encouraging you and supporting you throughout the days after the call, it was like things were only just starting to click for him too. Each day that had passed had seen him grow a little more anxious, a little more unsure, and now that the morning of your flight had arrived he was outright panicking.

It was more than a little strange having to be the sensible, calm party in the relationship for once. Usually, it was Kyle who had to constantly reassure you and keep you from going off the rails entirely, but today your attention had to abandon your own anxieties to keep him under control. You were pretty sure he was one misstep away from having a total breakdown, and a part of you was wondering if this was how he always felt just beneath his cool exterior.

Had he always been so anxious and neurotic? You didn’t think so, but perhaps he’d just learned to hide it better than you ever had. Either way, you were getting a very solid lesson in controlling your nerves that day.

Kyle was meant to drop you off at the airport, and yet you were the one to drive there because his hands were shaking so forcefully you didn’t exactly trust him to keep control over a vehicle. He was a mess of apologies and embarrassment, but you just smiled and told him it was endearing that he was so worried about you. It was, in a way, endearing.

It was endearing because you knew his worries, and fears, and anxieties were not due to his uncertainty in you. He didn’t feel those things because he doubted you, or thought that there was even a chance that things would go wrong for you. Rather, he was simply anxious to be away from you. He was sad to see you go, and know that you’d be gone for so long, and a part of you felt all of those things, too.

You were sad that you’d be away from him for months. You were sad that while you were out traveling the country, and possibly even the world, he would still be in that little apartment just waiting for you to get back. Some part of you wished that he could have come along, to share in the experience with you, but you knew it wasn’t an option.

Plus, you weren’t entirely sure he’d have enjoyed it anyways. There were many things that you and Kyle connected and bonded over. You both loved daytime television, shitty rom-coms, and a good glass of wine. You both loved warm cuddles on a lazy morning, the smell in the air just before it rained, and staying in on a good night to go out.

But, music? Photography? Those weren’t things that you shared. Your tastes in music were very eclectic and inspired, formed over years of exposing yourself to everything and anything that you could get your hands on to listen to. You all but despised the radio, and there was rarely a time that you ever listened to it. Kyle, though, didn’t really have much of an opinion when it came to music. He listened to whatever played over the radio waves and didn’t kick up a fuss.

Photography was much the same. He could appreciate a good picture, one that was pretty to look at, but that was it. His attention to detail as far as anything abstract, and centered in feeling or creativity rather than logic was lacking.

You didn’t love him any less for it, but that didn’t mean you didn’t occasionally long for that connection with him. Sometimes it could be hard to not have that sort of understanding with him. It got hard when you wanted to share something that inspired you, or moved you, or simply pleased you in some way, only to find that he just didn’t get it at all. He tried, he really did, but it just wasn’t his thing, just like business and finances weren’t your thing.

On some level, that fact may have had more to do with your decision to accept the job than you wanted to admit. For at least a few months, you’d be out living your dream and you’d actually be able to share in that joy with somebody who understood. You already knew that connection existed with the four band members that would be your muses for the duration, but there would hopefully be others, too.

The prospect of finding that commonality with someone again was thrilling. Sure, you had Dorothy back home, but there could be more. For years, ever since your mother had passed away, you’d felt disconnected in some sense. It was like that one true bond, that one tether of a mutual passion shared with someone who felt it and desired it just as intensely as you did had been severed. You were adrift, constantly seeking out that familiar attachment again.

You parked at the airport with a little over an hour until your flight to Detroit was scheduled to take off, and Kyle looked somber. “Well, we made it.” you mumbled lamely, and suddenly all the nerves caught up with you, “Oh, God, what am I doing? I can’t do this! Let’s just–let’s just go home, and I’ll call Adam and tell him–”

“As much as I’d love to turn this car around and take you home,” Kyle sighed, “I can’t let you do that. You’re getting on that plane even if I have to buy a ticket just to drag you onto it.”

You knew that you didn’t have the time to be procrastinating like you were, but as a wave of anxiety crashed over you and made your gut churn, you couldn’t stop yourself from dropping your forehead onto the steering wheel with a groan. Kyle wasn’t faring much better, looking a little green as he sat beside you and stared out the windshield with a frown he was trying his absolute hardest to hide. You could see it in the way his lips twitched, the corners lifting jerkily before slowly slipping back down toward his chin.

The two of you had never been apart for so long before. In fact, you weren’t sure you could point out a single week in the entire history of your relationship where you hadn’t seen each other at least once. So, the prospect of being away from each other for months on end was entirely foreign and unprecedented. You had no idea how to even make a long-distance relationship, especially after years of being entirely wrapped up in each other.

It had to be even harder to imagine for him, though. You had something to look forward to in leaving. You had a dream that you were chasing, and plenty of new and exciting experiences to occupy your time, heart, and mind while you were away. But, Kyle? Well, Kyle really only had the distant date of your return to look forward to.

A part of you felt guilty over that, you had to admit. A small part of you felt horrible that you were leaving him behind in order to chase your dreams, knowing that he was incredibly saddened over it but trying his best to keep that from you. He didn’t want you to see how disheartened he really was, because he knew that you’d let the guilt eat you alive, and somehow that only made it worse.

By the time you made it into the airport, and it was finally time to part ways, there really wasn’t any hiding it. His blue eyes were reddened slightly, bloodshot with unshed tears, and you could see the way his lips wobbled each time he released the tension in his jaw. Still, he forced a smile that was just shy of convincing and held your cheeks in his hands as he looked into your eyes like he was trying to memorize them.

“You’re going to be amazing, babe.” he stated, honestly and tenderly, and you held his wrists with shaking fingers as he dipped down to press his lips to yours. It was a sweet and chaste kiss, an embrace that was full of love and longing, but he cut it short before you could get too caught up in him. “Call me when you land, okay?”

You nodded, blinking away the tears that stung at your eyes, and you let out a breathy sigh as his thumbs caressed the highest points of your cheeks. “Okay.” you agreed quietly, and with one last kiss, he pushed you in the direction you were meant to go. He waited for you to move first, but after a few seconds of staring at each other as you remained rooted in place, Kyle was the one to walk away. You watched as he took steady paces away from you, eventually disappearing into the sea of strangers before you, and you were surprised when it didn’t hurt as much as you had anticipated.

There was a dull ache in your chest, the uncomfortable feeling that something was missing following his departure, but as you turned around and took your own steps toward your future, it didn’t linger long. You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, if it meant anything at all, but an incoming message from Adam confirming you were flying out took your mind off of it in an instant. All you could think about as you waited to board your flight was your excitement, eagerly looking forward to your first night of live music that you’d try your hardest to capture.

+++

Throughout the entire flight, you worried as to whether you'd recognize Adam well enough to pick him out of a crowd, but you were relieved to find that wasn't necessary. As you made your way out of the baggage claim to the pick-up, you spotted him rather quickly due to a large sign with your name on it--and you were pleased to see that you did, in fact, recognize him. Vaguely the memory of his presence at the shoot swam around the back of your mind, and you greeted him with a timid smile and a small wave.

The woman beside him, though, was not content with such a bland welcome. She had messy waves of multi-colored hair that spilled across her shoulders, and a pierced smile that forced deep smile lines and crows feet into her tanned skin. "Welcome aboard, babycakes!" she cooed as she threw her arms around you like the two of you were old friends, "I'm Pidgeon, but everyone calls me Pidge--you and I are gonna be working together a lot."

Her name gave you pause, wondering if it was her birth name or simply a chosen one, but you didn't have long to dwell on the thoughts before she was dragging your bag from your grip and slinging it over her own shoulder. She reached for the reinforced pack on your other shoulder, the one that held your camera and all of your gear, but you waved her away with a greeting that you hoped didn't sound too nervous, "I got it, thanks. Nice to meet you, Pidge, I'm (Y/N)."

"You're too cute!" she sighed, and you could practically feel the waves of energy that radiated off of her as she informed you, "Don't get too attached to your name, hun, 'cause soon enough you'll have a new one. Everyone gets a tour name, that's the rules."

Before you could ask whether or not Pidge or Pidgeon was her tour name, Adam was checking the time on his phone and urging, "As much as I'd like to ease you into this, (Y/N), I'm afraid we don't have the time. I've got an hour to get that contract signed before we all need to be at the venue, and if we don't hurry up who knows what those animals will get up to."

As the two of them led you to the waiting car, a rather swanky Cadillac rental, you took a moment to mentally prepare. You had less than an hour left before you signed the papers that would change your life forever, and the butterflies in your belly were buzzing wildly at the thought. In a matter of minutes, you'd officially have your dream job--you'd officially be embarking on the beginning of the rest of your life.

It was a crazy thought. Over the years, you'd pictured the moment endlessly. You'd fantasized what it would be like to finally get that big break, to finally get that job that always seemed too far out of reach to even be possible. As you grew older, the fantasy always seemed to change to accommodate the years of time you expected to pass before it would arrive.

As a girl, you'd imagined it would happen when you finally graduated from school. After you graduated, you imagined it would come about once you'd gotten your degree. But, after you'd made the choice to forego college in an attempt to get there faster, it only seemed that much further away.

After this job, after Kyle graduates, after this internship, after, after, after. In all honesty, you'd begun to think that perhaps it would never come. Your dreams of the beginning of the rest of your life had shifted to mean something more attainable, like the day you'd finally get engaged, or the day you'd get married, or the day you'd have your first child.

Now, though, now that you were finally getting that chance you feared would never come... you knew in your heart that this was the rest of your life. This was what you were meant to be doing, what you'd always been meant to do, and even as you were muddled with anxiety and fear of the unknown, you were ready to face it head-on. No matter what happened, whether you succeeded or not, you were ready for it all.

The whole process went by in a blur that was significantly less magical than the wild fantasies you'd conjured up over the weeks leading up to your arrival. Adam gave you a rapid-fire rundown of what your job entailed, who you'd be working with, and what to expect out of life on the road as he weaved his way through the Detroit traffic to the hotel. Pidge was the videographer, and aside from a few techs that worked alongside the two of you, you both were the sole people tasked with capturing the moments to live on forever.

Apparently, the man who you were replacing had quit unexpectedly after he proposed to his girlfriend citing a desire to settle down. The thought of that struck you as preposterous, and for a fleeting moment, your gut clenched as you wondered whether that would ever be a decision you were forced to make. You didn't let the thought linger for long, choosing to focus on the present instead.

You listened intently as he told you about bus life and the fact that the band members were really the only ones who traveled in the beast of a vehicle. The rest of you followed behind in vans, though there were a couple extra bunks on the bus for anyone who really needed them. Pidge piped up to say she often crashed because the guys got pretty rowdy on the bus, and she wiggled her eyebrows at you deviously when you giggled like it was a joke.

If it was possible, you all got hotel rooms. Sometimes the band would travel on to the next city before the crew did for press and promotional purposes, and in those cases, you were expected to load yourself onto the bus right along with them. The crew was never more than a night behind, though, and most often you'd end up in hotel rooms for at least a few hours to catch up on sleep.

As far as your job was concerned, there wasn't much to go on. Most stringently you were expected to photograph the performances, but anything else was left up to you--if it seemed worthy of being memorialized, then you were expected to make the call and take the shot. Already you were considering taking your camera everywhere because from your own perspective as a fan, everything was worthy.

As well as performances, you were also expected to capture whatever was possible at interviews, promotional opportunities, and press events. They'd have their own photographers and videographers recording it all, but it was always nice for the band to have a little piece of it for themselves. You nearly fainted when he told you that most of that would probably entail capturing little things for the band's Instagram account, promising to give you the details for it before it was necessary.

It was a mad dash through the hotel, with only a brief pitstop at the desk to get you checked in and a cursory glance into your room to drop off your luggage that went by so fast you worried you wouldn't remember the room number when you returned for the night. You kept your camera and gear over your shoulder, speedwalking down the halls until Adam stopped abruptly before another door and left it open behind him for you to follow. Your calves were burning, and you were starting to understand why Pidge had decided to wait in the car for your return.

"You read over the PDF I emailed you, right?" he asked, shooting a sparing glance over his shoulder before he began to dig through a bag on the dresser just inside the room. When you nodded, he breathed, "Great, then there's no reason to read it all again now."

With that, he slapped the thick stack of papers on the wooden surface and clicked his pen, flicking through the stapled forms and signing a few lines himself before scooting aside to make room for you. The pen felt like a lead weight as you took it from him, and your heart was racing, but you smiled as you asked, "Where do I sign?"

Four signatures, three initials, and seven dates later you were officially Greta Van Fleet's touring photographer for the next few months. You couldn't wipe the grin off of your face as you raced out of the hotel just behind him, a skip in your step and a weight off your back that you'd never even realized was there. The sun felt a little warmer as it beamed down on you when you made it outside, and you were the happiest you'd ever been.

Pidge beamed back at you from within the car, turning around with a dazzling smile that was full of mischief to face you as you slipped into the backseat with a sigh of contentment. "How do you feel about Dove, sugar?" she asked, cinnamon eyes sparkling, "You seem like a dove to me, and us birds gotta stick together out here on the road."

You didn't hesitate as you exulted, "Sounds perfect."

"Alright, birds," Adam huffed, though you could see the amused smile that twitched at his lips, "if you're done ruffling your feathers, we gotta fly. Let's get this show on the road."

Pidge laughed loudly, throwing her head back unabashedly as she crowed, "Punny. I like it."

+++

The venue was already chaotic when you arrived, the crew buzzing about methodically as they worked to get everything set up for the first show of the tour. There was a small gathering of fans already waiting outside of the gates, mostly younger in age as there were still hours to go before the show began. The sight of it made your blood bubble with excitement, for the fleeting moment that you saw them sharing in the joy and avidity of seeing a live show.

Pidge went on her own way as you began to delve deeper into the arena, winking and promising to see you soon before Adam dragged you away. He introduced you to a flurry of people as they passed, spouting off names that you'd never remember that faces of as they continued on with their business with the briefest of greetings. Things grew calmer, though, as you made your way backstage and toward the dwellings of the band.

"Put your dicks away, fuckers," Adam shouted as he opened a door, a hazy cloud of smoke wafting out that made him cough, "I have one bird, freshly shipped and ready to work."

Apparently, he really got a kick out of the bird thing that Pidge had proclaimed amongst the two of you. "Bird? What are you--oh, hey! It's (Y/N)!" Josh was the first to spot you, grinning wildly as he pointed you out like the three other men wouldn't be able to figure out where to look.

You smiled back, waving at the four men who were lounging around the small dressing room and smoking cigarettes and other things like it was 1970. "Yeah, it is, and you all better put that shit out before you get caught and get another fine." Adam gruffed, scowling at the joint that wobbled between Sam's lips. "I don't want to deal with that shit on the first night."

"Alright, alright." Sam rolled his eyes, plucking the joint from his lips with a cough. Adam glared one last time before giving you an exasperated look, patting you firmly on the shoulder as he turned on his heels and sped off in search of something else to do. The moment their manager was gone, Sam lifted the joint back to his lips and took another deep drag before holding it out to you with raised eyebrows.

His voice was warbly and hoarse as he held the smoke in his lungs, offering, "Want a hit? Take the edge off of those first-day nerves?"

It was tempting, but you chuckled as you shook your head. "Probably not the best first impression." you told him, "Although, I have no idea where to find Pidge, though, so that might not be the greatest impression either."

Josh took the joint from his brother who pouted at the loss, offering you a disarming smile as he reassured, "She usually finds her way back here for this, so don't worry. She'll find you soon enough." You watched as he took his own puff, waving the wrapped bud around between his fingers for anyone else to take. When nobody reached for it, he shrugged and stubbed it out with a wheeze and a cough as the smoke finally trailed out of his nostrils.

"You can sit, you know." Sam teased, and you startled slightly in embarrassment as you realized you'd just been standing in the doorway staring at them. "Besides, we gotta close the door otherwise we'll get caught for sure."

You tried not to show how nervous you were as you closed the door, peering across the room as you tried to figure out where to sit. Josh, Jake, and Danny were strewn over the long sofa lazily, the latter plucking at a guitar with his eyes closed and a pipe discarded on his chest. Sam didn't leave you long to wonder, though, before he patted the small open space beside him on the much shorter sofa and pressed deeper into the arm to make more room for you.

His arm slung across the back of it as you eased onto the cushion, and he grinned at you with hooded eyes as he chatted, "Long time no see. How've you been?"

It was easy to blame the way his fingers toyed with your hair lazily on the fact that he was intoxicated. You didn't know how much the four of them had smoked, or how high he was, but you could definitely gather that he wasn't completely in his right mind by the way his eyes could barely stay open and his brown irises were framed by a spiderweb of bloodshot capillaries. Still, you moved away from the touch as subtly as you could.

He let his hand fall back onto the sofa without a care, and you shrugged, "Good, I guess. Better now that I'm not dealing with the assholes at The Heat."

"And Kyle?" he asked, "That was your boyfriend's name, right? Kyle?"

Nodding, you chuckled as you informed, "He's good, too. Sad that I'm going to be gone for so long, but we'll make it work." The question struck you as a little odd, considering Kyle had only been mentioned in passing to the guys when Marjorie had been shamelessly flirting with them, but you shrugged it off. It was a little sweet that they remembered and cared enough to ask about him.

He merely hummed in response, but before you could ponder the oddity of it too much the door opened again. Pidgeon barged in before quickly shutting it once more, and she smirked widely as she made eye contact with you, "Oh, there you are, little Dove! I was hoping I'd find you."

"Dove?" Danny acknowledged, and she repeated the name proudly, "That was fast for a tour name, Pidge. Why Dove?"

You were more than a little curious to know why she'd chosen Dove as your nickname, too, but you were disappointed when she teased, "That's for me to know, and you to never find out. It's a bird thing, Danny Boy." The guys merely rolled their eyes at her, and you laughed as she snatched up the discarded joint with a huff and held her hand out expectantly for a lighter that Jake was quick to hand over.

As Pidgeon collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the front of the couch and sparking the lighter a few times before the flame caught the joint, you took a moment to just admire it all. The dressing room really wasn't anything special, just a small room barely larger than a walk-in closet with no windows and scratchy carpet that was stained, it felt magical. You were backstage, with musicians you admired deeply, and you belonged there.

There was a rack that held various articles of clothing, no doubt the outfits the guys were meant to wear on stage that night, and your eyes trailed over them curiously as you leaned further back into the couch. Sam's fingers fiddled with your hair again, the knuckle of his thumb grazing over the back of your neck, but you paid it no mind. You were too busy letting the utterly preposterous reality of it all sink in.

It still felt like a dream. Pidgeon's voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, your eyes focusing on her through the cloud of smoke she blew as she asked, "Want some, Dove?"

You bit your lip. It was really tempting, and you knew that it would help immensely to ease the nervous twisting of your stomach. She waggled the joint at you coyly, grinning deviously as she waited for you to finally sigh, "Fuck it." They all cheered as you held your hand out, plucking the thinly wrapped bud from her fingers and placing it between your lips with a slow inhale.

Sam tugged it from between your lips after your second pull, popping it between his own with a wink. You tried to drag your eyes away from the way his lips wrapped around it, but ultimately it was only Pidgeon's cheers that managed to snap your attention away from the sight. "Welcome to the family, Dove! You're one of us now." she cooed, and you sank further into the couch as the subtle high began to wash over you, leaving you relaxed and ready for the work to begin.

+++

The first show of the tour went off without a hitch. You were drenched in sweat by the time it finished, your clothes sticking to your body and your hair clinging to your face and neck, but there was a grin on your face that just wouldn't fade. It was worth it to feel so gross, considering you were pretty sure you were up in the clouds.

You'd only allowed yourself to be nervous and uncertain for the first few minutes before you'd steeled yourself and taken the bull by its horns. You weren't going to succeed by needing your hand held, and you were determined to succeed. Failure wasn't an option.

So, after a few moments of standing just off the side of the stage with a churning in your gut, you dove in. You were breathless with how hard you were running around, buzzing all around the spaces available to you to snap picture after picture. At one point you'd even climbed over the barrier and into the audience, worming your way through cheering fans to get the shot you were after.

You'd climbed things you were pretty sure you were not permitted to climb, and you'd crawled all around the floor to get the right angles. In the end, you'd come away with a full memory card and a heart that was threatening to beat right out of your chest with overexertion. It was well worth it, though, and you were eager to do it all over again.

Pidge offered you a high-five and a hug despite your ragged, sweaty appearance, and you tried not to be bashful when she clicked through a few of the photos on your camera with spectacular praise. You did, however, grow flustered when she insisted on flagging down random crew members working on teardown to make them praise you too. They did, honestly from what you could tell, but you were quick to retrieve your camera after the second one.

Jake found you sitting on the side of the stage, draining your second bottle of water as you clicked through your photos with a fullness in your heart you hadn't expected. "Hey," he greeted, hair dripping with sweat and his shirt abandoned. He flopped down beside you, dangling his legs just like yours as Sam followed him out boisterously, "I take it, it went well?"

"I think so." you hummed, biting your lip to stifle a smile as you passed your camera to him just as Sam collapsed beside him. The butterflies came back in full force as the two of them clicked through your camera roll slowly, silently acknowledging each photo except for quiet noises they let out occasionally that apparently sufficed in place of words for them to understand. "Well?"

They let you stew in your anxiety for a few seconds longer before Sam finally grinned, cheering, "These are amazing! I saw you climbing the scaffolding at one point, and I thought you were insane--but now I can see why."

You returned his jubilant smile, beaming with pride. "Thanks." you returned sheepishly, "I don't like to just stand around. Sometimes you have to work to find the better angles, you know?"

"So you're insane, but with reason." Jake joked, and you nudged his shoulder with a laugh. "Really, though, you're insanely talented (Y/N). That's why we asked for you."

There was a heat that crawled across your skin, wrapping around your neck and climbing up your face as you flushed with appreciation and flattery. It would take time for you to accept that praise, especially from a group of men who inspired you greatly, but you hoped that one day you'd be able to accept the compliments with pride and grace. You hoped that one day you wouldn't need the compliments to know that for yourself.

As they continued to scroll their way through the photos, eventually joined by a significantly freshened up Josh and a still sweat-drenched Danny, Sam asked, "We're gonna hit a few bars to celebrate. Do you want to come with us? Pidge and some of the crew probably will, too."

You pondered it for a moment, but then you realized you'd never called Kyle and a twinge of guilt flared up within you. You didn't even have your phone with you to check and see if he'd tried calling, having left it in the hotel room, and you felt horrible as you realized you'd forgotten all about your promise to let him know when you landed due to your excitement. He was probably going crazy with worry, and your guilt only intensified when you knew in your heart that he'd let it all go just to listen to you gush about your night.

Although the offer was truly tempting, and you were buzzing with energy that could do with being let out over a few drinks in celebration, you knew that it could wait. You had months' worth of nights to go out and celebrate, but you only had one night to make it right with Kyle. So, you offered a somber smile as you denied, "I'm gonna head back to the hotel, actually. I promised Kyle I'd call him, and totally forgot to before the show."

Sam pursed his lips reproachfully, but he accepted your rejection nonetheless. "Next time, I guess." he shrugged, and you were happy to see his smile returned if only partially when you nodded eagerly.

You all split ways outside the venue, the four band members and Pidge clambering into a rental car that peeled out in search of a bar. You, however, clambered into a car with a yawning Adam who drove the two of you sleepily back to the hotel. He wished you a goodnight outside of your room, and your ears were ringing as you shut yourself inside of the small, silent space.

There were three missed calls from Kyle, and a lone text message letting you know he'd gone to bed but he would call in the morning. As expected, he was nothing but sweet. He said he figured you'd forgotten to call due to the chaos of the big day, and wished you luck but he knew you'd kill it regardless. With a simple I love you and a heart, he'd bid you goodnight with nothing but grace.

You wrote back a message apologizing profusely for forgetting, and promised you'd call him as soon as you woke up. You informed him you'd made it okay and survived the first night, but you'd save the details for tomorrow. With that, you returned his sentiments and bid him sweet dreams--and then you plugged your phone in before retrieving your laptop and memory card.

For hours you stayed up, going through the hundreds of photos you'd taken and amassing a collection of those you deemed to be the best. You spent a long time editing some of them, and even longer squealing with your face buried in your pillow as you tried to expel the energy that was bursting to be let out. It was all so surreal.

You'd smoked weed with your favorite band, for fuck's sake! The thought of it had you squealing all over again, kicking your legs around the bed like a little kid. If every night was going to be like that on tour, then you had no idea how you'd ever go back to a life like the one you'd been living before.

TAGLIST! @caravelstan @tripthelight-fanfic @barbariansgvf @brokenbellz @sing-against-the-sky @stardustdanny @dannythedog @peterr-parkourr @stardust-and-shadows @trafficwasabitch @screechesincoherently @fleetsonfire @honor-gvf @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @lupinevanfleet @oyoke @celestialfauna @luverleaver if you'd like to be added, send an ask! (please specify if it's only for the series!)

[fic-for-fic-sake]

A Happy Accident

A/N: The other day I found out that Chris Evans may possibly have a sex dungeon? I don’t write real people fics but I knew I HAD to write a Steve Rogers fic about this because I mean...c’mon. Also the text conversation in the fic is indeed a real conversation between my friend and I. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub, flogging, being tied up, penetrative sex, honorifics, praise kink

Word Count: 5.4k

You knew there was trouble before you even reached the meeting room, it was like a palpable tension you could sense coming from the conference room. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was to come as you walked in and took your usual spot next to Natasha. 

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” You questioned her, murmuring under your breath since nobody seemed keen to speak above a whisper for the time being. 

“Some kind of security breach, we don’t know how bad yet, we have to wait for Stark.” She explained, speaking in clipped tones. She seemed nervous, which was understandable given the circumstances. A security breach could mean a number of things, none of them good. Anything from weapons tech to secret identities could’ve been revealed in the breach. 

The tension seemed to come to a head when Tony and Steve walked into the room. Everyone erupted into a flurry of activity, peppering the two men with so many questions it was hard to make out what came from who. 

“What was taken?” Someone asked. 

“Was it anything serious?” Someone else wondered. 

“Do we need to scrap the new suit designs?” You asked, adding your voice to the babble. 

“Okay everyone settle down and give Tony some room to think.” Steve urged all of you, forming a one man barrier around Stark. Which you had to admit was rather effective. Once everyone reseated themselves and Steve gave Tony a nod, Tony cleared his throat. 

“By now you all have obviously heard that there’s been a security breach. We don’t know who is behind the breach but so far all that was leaked was text conversations of the following Avengers; Wanda, Sam, Bucky, and Y/N.” 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were a target in the security breach. But why? Why you specifically and why just your text conversations? It seemed rather harmless considering everything else they could’ve taken. 

“Luckily Wanda doesn’t really text anyone because everyone she knows is here. As far as Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are concerned they only leaked conversations from your work phones, meaning your personal phone security isn’t in question.” Tony reassured you all. Well, it reassured Sam and Bucky at least. 

“Um, what do you mean ‘work phone’?” You asked, looking around with a puzzled expression on your face. 

“You do have a burner phone for personal use, right?” Nat asked from beside you. Now your heart was located somewhere in your feet. 

“I didn’t know I needed one.” You whispered, barely contained horror edging its way into your voice. 

“Well, I mean what’s the worst that could be there?” Sam asked, trying to reassure you. Luckily, or unluckily enough, you didn’t have to answer that question because within the coming days they would all find out. 

After the meeting you tried to go about your normal routine and ignore the security breach as best as you could. That got considerably harder the following morning, when the hacker released your private conversations with your friends for all the world to see. They went something like this: 

Sarah: Do you think Steve Rogers is good in bed? 

You: Obviously, dumb question. 

Sarah: Do you think he’s kinky though? 

You: Oh 100%, no way he doesn’t have a secret sex dungeon or something. 

Sarah: Since you’re an Avenger now you should try to find out. 

You: HAHAHAHAHA that’s hilarious and something I’ll never do, in reality. But in theory PUT ME IN COACH! I bet he would probably make me sign an NDA and I would totally be down for that. 

Sarah: I’ll sign a DNR

You: HAA, I would sign the NDA but also have to tell you what’s happening and then I would make you sign an NDA. 

Sarah: Then you’re breaking the NDA??

You: Not if you don’t tell anyone goddamn be cool. 

Sarah: It’s the principle of the thing

You: ...I wonder what kind of dom he is

Sarah: Idk if he’s a daddy. He feels like a Sir or Master. I also think he doesn’t have soft limits, only hard limits. 

You: as much as I would like to think he’s a pleasure dom I don’t think that’s true

Sarah: I agree

You: Maybe a brat tamer? 

Sarah: That feels too tame for him. 

You: Okay so then just a no holds bard whipping dom. I would wait all day in his sex dungeon just to lick his boots when he came home. Does that make me depraved? Probably. 

Sarah: Possibly, I also think he’d degrade the shit out of you, like kinda pet play shit. I also think he has a spreader bar collection. Aaaand an overstimulation kink. 

You: Oh agreed, that and edging. I feel like he would edge you for hours and then leave to go on a mission or something and you’re not allowed to touch yourself and then he comes back hours later and you’re just aching for release. And then only after you’re BEGGING he would let you come. 

Sarah: Oof. How much do you wanna bet his dungeon is like a sensory deprivation thing? Think about it, hours upon hours of not having any form of relief, after begging nonstop, no real form of your senses and then BAM normal orgasm but heightened to the absolute max. 

You: YEP! I bet he’s like the king of aftercare though, like 1000/10 so sweet. Like Steve Rogers is legit such a nice human being so I assume aftercare is the same. 

Sarah: AYO SIR LEMME BE YOUR SUB

You: GOD FORREAL!

Needless to say, you did not leave your room that day. The next day you tried to get away with not leaving your room again but Nat was having none of that. 

“Come on Y/N, I promise it’s not that bad, I’ve said much worse.” She assured you as she practically dragged you out of your room and into the elevator. 

You buried your head in your hands and let out a frustrated scream. “He’s a coworker, Nat, and I totally objectified him and basically said all the filthy things I wanted him to do to me.” 

“And I bet he’s real flattered about it! The man needs a good ego boost every now and then.” She replied with a laugh. To which you responded with another frustrated scream and a kick to the elevator doors as they opened. “I bet he didn’t even read it, I doubt anyone on the team did.” She said, sounding certain in her own thinking. She half convinced you until you walked into the training room and every pair of eyes turned to you, including Steve’s baby blues. Fuck. 

“Okay we’re working in a group today people, focusing on enhanced individuals with external powers. Wanda and Y/N against Sam, Bucky, and Steve.” Nat announced, opening the door to the special training facility. So you and Wanda wouldn’t trash too much of Stark’s equipment with your powers. 

“Hey Y/N, you been to any good sex dungeouns recently? I’m looking for one.” Sam quipped as you made your way to the starting point. Before you could even think about what you were doing the smell of ozone was ripe in the air and you sent a bolt of lightning hurtling towards Sam who was barely able to dodge it in time. 

“Sorry...hand slipped.” You mock apologized, making it clear that you would have another ‘hand slip’ if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. He got the point well enough but the damage was already done. The tension was worse now than when you first found out about the breach, everyone trying not to bring up the elephant in the room. 

Nat cleared her throat and started her countdown and then the training began in earnest. After an hour you were all panting and sweating, utterly spent from your session. Steve passed everyone a water bottle and you took it gratefully, chugging the cool liquid in earnest. It was then that another comment was made, this time by Bucky. 

“Thanks for the aftercare daddy.” He mocked as he opened his own water bottle. Once again the smell of ozone was in the air but you didn’t have a chance to meet your target before Steve had Bucky pressed against the wall, his forearm digging into the other man’s throat. 

“That’s enough.” He growled through his teeth. Everyone was silent for a minute and you almost felt sorry for the deer in the headlights look Bucky was now wearing on his face, almost. A shower of frustrated sparks extinguished all the lights in the room as you stormed from the room, embarrassment trailing after you. 

That had been four hours ago and you hadn’t left your room, despite Natasha banging on the other side of your door. You had asked FRIDAY not to open it for anyone unless given your express permission. It seemed even the AI knew what kind of a mess you had landed yourself into, as she was immediately understanding of such a request. You were in the process of ordering a burner phone off of Amazon when there was a knock at your door. 

“Nat, I don’t care how many books you offer to buy me, I’m NOT coming out of this room.” You yelled into the empty space of your room. 

“Noted, but uh, it’s Steve. Can we talk?” You were at the door before he finished his sentence. You opened it no more than a crack, not courageous enough to do more. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I’m mortified.” You mumbled, looking down at your feet instead of the imposing figure outside of your door. Steve gently pushed on the door with his hand and you let him open it the rest of the way. He brought gentle fingers to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes. 

“There’s nothing to be mortified about, sweetheart. I just wanna talk.” He replied beseechingly. And maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the way he looked at you, but you relented and let him in, closing the door softly behind you. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry for what I said. I obviously never thought it would see the light of day but that’s not an excuse and doesn’t make it okay. Fuck, Steve I’m so sorry. I can get reassigned if you want, have SHIELD put me somewhere else.” You rattled off apologies and half baked plans before you felt his hands gently clasp your shoulders and once again you were forced to look up into his eyes which had gone saucer wide. 

“Doll what are you talking about? You don’t need to be reassigned, it's not that big of a deal.” He said, in an attempt to comfort you. 

“Not a big deal? I practically accused you of having a sex dungeon and being a mega dom.” You blurted out, mortification making your voice rise half an octave. 

He let out a soft sigh before he sat down on the edge of your bed, “It’s not like you were completely in the wrong.” He replied, and that’s when your brain short circuited. 

“What? You have a sex dungeon?” 

“Well, it’s not a dungeon, it's just my bedroom, but yes I do, partake in those types of things you described.” He explained, his voice as even and calm as if he were discussing the weather. 

“Oh.” Was all you could really bring yourself to say. 

“Oh? That’s all? I have to say you were much more articulate in your texts.” He teased, his voice suddenly becoming deeper and taking on an air of authority that wasn’t there a second ago. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

And again, maybe it was because of his tone or because of the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in but you answered him honestly. “I’m thinking I’m absolutely mortified that my coworker found out how badly I want him to fuck me.” 

“What else?” He prompted. You couldn’t breathe properly, he was taking all the air from the room and the intensity in his gaze pinned you to the spot, like an unsuspecting doe finding itself at the barrel of a gun. 

“I’m wondering how correct my predictions were. What kind of a dom you are.” 

“Would you like to find out?” 

“Yes.” You answered before you could think better of it. The second the word left your mouth your eyes went wide at the confession. Because you did want to find out, God did you want to find out what kind of shit Steve Rogers, the golden boy, was into. 

“Then we have ourselves a deal. You want to find out what I’m into and I want to show you.” 

“Right now?” You asked, breathless. You could feel your core ache at the suggestion, the want plain as day. 

He chuckled before he moved to stand before you. “No pretty girl, not yet.” He whispered, bringing his right hand up to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb across the expanse of your lips. “First we have to talk about a few things.” 

“Like what?” You questioned, completely enraptured by this man, finding yourself willing to submit to whatever he wanted you to. You were terrified by how much the prospect excited you. 

“Like exactly what you want me to do to you. Your texts were very...explicit. But, that may have just been talk. I need to know specifics if this is going to work.” Steve explained, backing you up until you hit your dresser. Without a word he lifted you on top of it and stood between your legs, one of his hands tracing absent minded patterns on your thigh. 

It was hard to think with him in such close proximity but you tried to clear your mind because you really wanted this, your mouth went dry at the thought. “I want...I want to be tied up. And I want to be blindfolded. And whipped.” It felt weird to lay your desires out plain before you like this. It made you feel exposed, but it was also oddly empowering. 

Steve nodded his head at your requests. “You mentioned something to your friend about edging and orgasm denial, is that something you still wanted to try?” 

“Yes, but not, not yet. I’ve never um, I haven’t- I’ve never been kinky with a partner.” You explained to him, feeling an embarrassing heat creeping up your face. 

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, we all start somewhere.” Steve insisted, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips. “Anything else?” After you shook your head he gave you a nod in reassurance. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.” He said as he stepped away from you. 

That was three days ago and you hadn’t heard anything from him on the matter since. You had trained with him, went for a run with him, had the usual team meetings and exchanged the usual pleasantries but nothing out of the ordinary. You had even gone far enough in your wandering mind to think that maybe you imagined the whole interaction. 

On Friday, you were told that Steve had gone away on a mission and by that point the team was done teasing you about the leaked conversation, already having moved on to the next thing. You had made plans to go out with them that night to a community outreach thing in Manhattan. You had just gotten your jeans on when a piece of paper slid across your floor from the door. 

You walked over to it, thinking someone had just dropped their paper, when you saw what was written on the other side of it.

Text an excuse to Stark for the outreach and then come to my room. -SR 

Your heartbeat sped up to a gallop as you read the message through two more times, just to be certain. This was it, it was happening. With shaky fingers you texted Tony a flimsy excuse about draft reports you needed to finish before you put your phone back on your desk and calmly made your way to Steve’s room. 

You went to knock but found the door slightly ajar. Taking that as your cue you stepped into Steve Rogers room. While it wasn’t the first time you had been here, it was certainly a circumstance that you weren’t used to. Everything seemed...different somehow. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from dim overhead lighting. There was a faint scent of jasmine that you assumed came from a candle or incense burner you couldn’t see somewhere. On the bed, the sheets had been changed to something that looked like silk and resting on top was an eye mask and two long chords of rope. Which seemed innocuous enough, current circumstances notwithstanding. 

“Shut the door and lock it please.” A voice commanded from a shadow in the corner of the room. As soon as you locked the door Steve Rogers emerged from the shadows in an all black version of his Captain America suit. You had never seen him in such a suit before and the sight of him in it made your mouth water and your knees buckle. This was really happening. 

“I have to admit, when I read your text conversation I was surprised to say the least. I didn’t know how many dirty thoughts resided in that head of yours but you did not disappoint, did you sweetheart?” He questioned as he made his way over to where you stood, rooted to your spot by the door. He gently pressed against your shoulder and you followed his lead, letting him back you against the door, his strong hands landing on either side of your head, arms caging you in. “And then when we spoke, you were /very/ specific in what you wanted and I am nothing if not obliging, you’ll find.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your mouth at the implication behind his words. 

“Are you ready to be my good girl? Hmm sweetheart?” 

“Yes Steve.” You whispered, your mind not being able to form anything other than those words. 

He made a slight tsking sound. “In here, don’t call me Steve. It’s Captain. Got it?” 

“Yes Captain.” You replied obediently. 

“Good girl, now get undressed for me.” He commanded, stepping back to give you room to complete his task. With nervous fingers you lifted your shirt above your head and undid the clasp on your bra. You watched as Steve’s eyes took in your exposed top half, he licked his lips which made you shiver in turn. Confidence growing by his visible excitement you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them down your legs along with your panties, until you were gloriously naked before him. 

“God, you're so beautiful sweetheart. I’m already getting hard and all you’ve done is get undressed.” He praised you as he palmed himself through his tac pants. “Come here pretty girl.” He insisted as he picked up the blindfold. 

You walked over to him and turned around as he secured the blindfold against your eyes and tied it for you. “Now, we’re gonna use a color system, okay? Green means you’re okay to keep going, Yellow means to slow down, and Red means stop. Can you remember that doll?” 

“Yes Captain.” You murmured as you adjusted to not being able to see. You tuned into your other senses to rely on what was happening. You felt Steve take your hand and walk you over until you reached the side of the bed. He helped you up before asking you to lay down on your back. 

“Okay pretty girl I’m gonna tie you up now.” He told you as you felt both of his hands take your left arm and maneuver it above your head before securing your wrist in place with rope. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before repeating the process with your other arm. “How do you feel sweetheart?” 

“Good Captain, I feel good.” You told him as your heartbeat kicked up another notch. You felt him take your left leg with gentle fingers and tie your ankle to the baseboard of the bed. You gasped as he secured your right ankle, knowing you were now naked and spread bare before him. You felt the bed dip as he kneeled over you and brought his mouth down to whisper in your ear. 

“What’s your color baby?” 

“Green.” You replied. Almost immediately you felt his lips press against yours, desperate and hungry for you. You kissed back with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed. It was a strange sensation, kissing someone you couldn’t touch let alone see, but that didn’t make it unpleasant. You felt blissfully detached from your body and the need raced down to your pussy until you had the sudden urge to close your legs and hide your arousal. 

Steve chuckled against your mouth as his left hand snaked down to see what you were trying in vain to hide. “So eager for me and we’ve hardly started” He lazily swiped his fingers along your folds to feel the wetness that gathered there. He then brought the same hand up to your breast and worked your juices around your nipple, making you groan at the sheer wantonness of it all. Steve happily swallowed your groan with his mouth, his tongue taking the opportunity to pass your lips. 

You fervently kissed him back as his ministrations against your nipple continued. His lips left yours and left a trail of hot kisses down your throat and over to your neglected right nipple. You felt him blow cold air on it and your back bowed against the bed, your arms straining against the restraints. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud and you couldn’t help the noises that escaped your mouth. 

“Oh fuck, Captain.” You let out as he took your nipple into his mouth. You could feel his left hand leave your nipple and you let out a whine of protest. He only laughed against your skin before you heard the faint opening of a drawer. Your ears picked up the sound of him rummaging around for something but you couldn’t focus too much on that as the rest of your body was alight with fire as he continued to work on your nipple with his mouth. He finally found what he was looking for in the drawer and he released your nipple with a wet popping sound before you felt his weight shift and he removed himself from you. 

“You mentioned something about being whipped.” He teased, and you could hear that his own arousal had made his voice hoarse. Your cunt throbbed in response. “Do you know what a flogger is pretty girl?” 

“Yes Captain.” You replied from your position on the bed. Your mouth went dry at the mental image you had of Steve in his black tac suit with a flogger in hand. How would he use it on you? Would it hurt? Be pleasant? The anticipation was eating you up in the best of ways. 

“Good girl. We’re gonna do some counting. Since this is your first time we won’t do too many, just ten. But you have to count them pretty girl. If you forget, or lose count, we start over. Do you understand?” 

Oh fuck. “Yes Captain.” You heard him chuckle from somewhere above you before you heard the whoosh of the flogger and the sensation on your skin. You gasped as the leather straps came down hard against your left nipple. “One.” The second one came down against your right nipple and you found that your pussy clenched around nothing. “Two.” 

Numbers three, four, and five were placed on your nipples and your stomach.

“Halfway there pretty girl, you’re doing so well.” Steve’s voice came from somewhere around you. A thin layer of sweat had broken out over your skin and your arousal was through the roof. You found yourself panting in anticipation of the next strike. It came, the leather striking against your dripping center and you let out a gasp as your back arched off of the silk sheets. “Six” 

“Oh you liked that one didn’t you sweetheart?” Steve teased. 

“Yes Captain.” You replied breathlessly. Number seven came in the same spot and another lewd sound left your mouth as the flogger found its spot. Numbers eight and nine he placed on the sensitive insides of your thighs. 

“Last one pretty girl. You’ve taken it so well I’ll let you decide where this last one goes.” 

“Hit my pussy again, please, I want it so bad Captain.” You practically pleaded. Under any other circumstances you would’ve been ashamed at how pathetic you sounded but you didn’t care. Steve Rogers was doing depraved things to you and you couldn’t think straight. You just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, to take all of you, every tiny nook and cranny of your being until he knew your pleasures like the back of his hand. 

“Such a needy girl, maybe after the flogger I’ll give you a reward.” He replied, sounding pleased with you, before he placed the tenth and final flog against your aching core. “God you look so sexy like this, blindfolded and tied to my bed, maybe I should leave you here as my own personal fucktoy, would you like that baby?” He asked as he inserted two fingers into your mouth. 

You mumbled your response against the digits, your pussy getting wetter at the thought of him using you like that. You were only half kidding when you had texted your friend about it but now, with your arousal so strong, it sounded more and more enticing. Steve removed his fingers from your mouth and brought them down to your sensitive center, rubbing them up and down your slit before inserting them into your slick heat. You gasped at the intrusion and felt your hips buck up in response to being filled. 

Your walls fluttered around his fingers as he began to pump them at a leisurely pace. You felt him make his way down your body to nestle himself between your spread legs and then his hot breath was fanning out over your cunt as his fingers continued to fuck you. “You look so good, pretty girl. Spread open for me like my own personal feast. God you’re so wet. I guess you like to be flogged.” He spoke, the filthy words that left his lips making you wetter than you already were. Without warning he brought his tongue to you and kitten licked your clit, sending a shockwave through your system. 

He took your clit in his mouth and sucked as he continued to work you with his fingers. You fruitlessly tugged against your restraints and bucked your hips in an attempt to get the friction you so desperately needed. 

“God sweetheart you taste better than I imagined.” Steve commented as his tongue lapped up your juices. “I bet I’ll be able to taste you on my tongue for a week.” 

“Fuck, Captain, please can I cum?” You begged, tears wetting the inside of your mask from the intensity of your session. 

“Come for me baby, let me feel you come on my fingers.” Steve commanded and that was your undoing. The knot that had been building inside of you was finally released and you came loudy around his fingers. You felt him lick you through the aftershocks. 

“Talk to me, pretty girl, how are you feeling?” Steve questioned, voice hot once again by your ear. His suit gently pressing against your overstimulated skin. “Give me a color.” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline. 

“I’m good Captain, still Green.” You responded, coming down from your orgasm. 

“Such a good girl for your Captain. You’re doin’ so well pretty girl.” He said as he left the bed. You weren’t sure where he went until you felt his dexterous fingers undoing the ropes on your left leg. “I’m undoing the leg ropes first. And then I’m going to fuck you senseless like I’ve been wanting to do since I saw those damn text messages.” Your spent cunt clenched around nothing, as you eagerly waited for him to undo the other leg restraint. You could hear him undo the many zippers and clasps on his tac suit until the bed dipped and he was once again between your legs. 

This time skin met skin as you felt his upper thighs press between yours as he brought himself closer to you still. You felt the tip of his cock slide between your wet folds before slipping inside. The breath was stolen from your lungs at the feel of him sinking into your waiting cunt. A low moan left your mouth as you felt every perfect inch of him spreading you until he bottomed out and his hips nestled perfectly against your own. 

You felt his forehead press against your own. “Fuck you feel perfect, you know that pretty girl? My perfect little pussy.” He breathed against your mouth as he let you adjust to him. He retracted himself from you fully before swiftly filling you up again. Any noise you may have made was swallowed as he kissed you with a hunger you didn’t think was possible. What started as a slow rhythm quickly changed until he was snapping into you with a fervor akin to a madman. 

Your hips eagerly met his thrusts and soon your combined pants and skin slapping filled the room. Still blindfolded, you felt the moment his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed just so. That had your walls flutter around him and your hips stuttered. 

“Oh you like that don’t you? You like when I choke you huh pretty girl?” He asked eagerly, his voice husky from moaning. 

“Yes, fuck, please Captain, fuck me.” You rasped out. You grunted as he brought his other hand down to press your hips into the mattress before he slammed into you at a relentless pace. Eventually, his hand left your throat to play with your bundle of nerves. 

“Come on pretty girl. Come for me.” He ordered and you were only too happy to comply. You came hard around him, enough that you saw stars behind the blindfold and Steve let out a string of curses and praises for you as he pulled out of you and you felt his cum paint your stomach. 

You had a moment to catch your breath as you heard Steve pad over to what you assumed was the bathroom. He came back and placed a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the combined mess you both made. Then you felt his hands move up to untie the blindfold around your eyes. You squinted into the low light of the room and were shocked to see Steve bare chested and glistening with sweat before you. 

“Hi.” You murmured shyly, finding that some of your confidence had left you along with the blindfold. Seeing him like this, because of you, because of what you had done, somehow cemented this moment in reality. There was no turning back now. 

“Hi yourself, how do you feel?” He asked as he undid the ropes around your wrists. 

“I um wow, I feel great.” You said and realized it was true. In the afterglow of the scene you felt amazing. Sexy and empowered and utterly spent but undeniably amazing. 

“You did great.” Steve assured you as he took lotion into his hands and massaged the areas on your wrists and ankles where the ropes had been. He placed a gentle kiss on each palm when he was done and went to get you a glass of water. “Drink all of this.” 

You took the glass from his hands and drank deep. Appreciating the cool feeling of the water as it slid down the column of your throat, you didn’t realize how thirsty you had become. You finished the glass and handed it back to Steve, who placed it on one of his bedside tables. 

“Good girl.” He praised and you felt yourself blush in response. He noticed. “Do you like being praised, sweetheart?” 

“Yes Captain.” You nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied as he helped you into one of his shirts and placed you underneath the covers. He rested beside you and wrapped you in his strong arms. “You did so well today for your first time. It wasn’t too much for you was it?” 

“No, I really liked it.” You reassured him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead with a promise to discuss it more after you slept some.

[hellsenthero]

Divine Violence

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X Reader

Bucky gets triggered into the Winter Soldier on a mission. The results are something you could have never predicted. 

Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff, violence. (2.4 K Words.)

Masterlist

**********

It’s always the missions that are supposed to be the easiest where things go wrong. It was you, Bucky, Nat, Sam and Steve on this mission. Sam had eyes in the sky, scouting for any oncoming danger. Steve and Nat were teamed up in the West side of the building leaving you and Bucky to scout the East side. You thought if something were to go wrong I’d be tactical. After all, you were trying out a new communications system on this mission courtesy of Tony. What you hadn’t expected was the one-man ambush. 

He stood in the middle of the room, red book in hand, his lips turned up in a coy smile. You didn’t know him, but you knew enough about the red book that haunted Bucky’s nightmares to know that the man before you was no one good. Bucky froze the second he saw the book, his mouth opening in shock as he gazed at the very thing that held his complete destruction. You could almost see that ice that filled his veins, chilling him to his core. 

“Bucky, get out of here.” You ordered, voice strained as you too stared at the book. 

But it was too late. Holding a black remote in hand the man pressed a button and his voice carried through the speakers in the building. He didn’t bother speaking to you or Bucky, didn’t bother saying what he planned to do with the soldier, instead he remained content to let the ten trigger words wash over the two of you through the speakers.

Желание Longing. The first word from the speaker has Bucky groaning, shaking his head he puts his hands over his ears but the man’s voice still sounds as clear as day. 

Ржавый Rusted. By the second word you’ve already shot the man down, a bullet clear through his head. His body drops to the floor like a ton of bricks, the book falling from his hands onto the floor where his blood soaks its pages. 

Семнадцать Seventeen. As the third word is spoken through the speaker you race over to the remote, pressing desperately on the buttons the recording refuses to stop. 

Рассвет Daybreak. Bucky’s kneeling on the floor at the fourth word. Jaw clenched and back hunched he shakes his head. Desperate no’s and stop's spilling from his lips. 

Печь Furnace. Steve’s voice comes through your comm at the fifth word, asking you where Bucky is. When you tell him the soldier’s at your side Steve orders you to get away. 

Девять Nine. It pains you to leave him behind, but as the sixth word sounds you leave the room. You know it’s what Bucky would want. He’s had too many nightmares where he’s hurt you as the Winter Soldier and you know that it would hurt him more than it would you for those nightmares to become a reality. 

Добросердечный Benign. The seventh word. You’re almost out of time before the final word is spoken and the Winter Soldier is activated. Fear courses through your veins as you race through the halls in search of your team. 

Возвращение на родину Homecoming. By the eight word you’ve managed to find the rest of your team. Their faces screwed with tension much like your own, you all prepare yourselves for the fight ahead. 

Один One. The ninth word, one, it’s only three letters and yet it holds so much weight. Facing forward you get ready to battle the soldier. 

Грузовой вагон Freight car. As the tenth and final word is spoken through the speaker. You know you’re in trouble. 

You’d never seen the Winter Soldier before. Sure, Bucky’s talked to you about him, about the dangers that being close to him and loving him comes with. The lack of recognition the soldier has for Bucky’s friends and colleagues, but seeing him is something different. As he comes around the corner it’s his eyes you notice first. The usual spark in them is gone, you see nothing of the man you know in his gaze. It’s dead, like glass eyes, no emotion, no recognition, just a vast emptiness. Even his stance is rigid, unfamiliar. 

“Bucky,” you breath out, “Bucky I know you’re in there.” His gaze settles on you, his eyes roaming over you like a stranger rather than a lover. When his gaze catches the team at your side his chest puffs up, hands coming up and ready to fight. 

You thought he’d go for you, the soldier possibly seeing you as a weak link in the group but he charges right at Steve who stands to your right. 

It’s one against three, the odds should be in your favour but with the soldier controlling Bucky he’s at full force and you, Steve, Sam and Nat, with your minds clear you can’t go full force on your teammate in good conscience. 

Steve gets thrown into the wall, his body hitting it with a sickening crack but the hit doesn’t keep him down. You go to fight Bucky, your arms coming up to reach around his neck but he spins, his arms grabbing yours. 

This is it, you think to yourself, he’s got me and when Bucky comes back to he's going to be crushed at what he’s done. 

But it’s not it. Bucky doesn’t tighten his hold on you or break your arm that he has in his grip. He pushes you back until you’re pinned between him and the wall. Your arms come up, ready to protect yourself, ready to fight, but there’s no need. He spins around, his back to you he doesn’t take a step away. His eyes are set on the rest of the team, his fist clenched and teeth bared. 

He's protecting you. 

Either because Bucky is still in there somewhere, attempting to control the soldier or because the soldier doesn't want you harmed, he stands before you, protecting you, ready to fight the team in order to keep you safe. 

The others stop, mouths opening in surprise, gazes flicking between Bucky and the bit of you they can see peeking from behind him. 

“Bucky,” Steve begins cautiously, his hands coming up before him as if he’s fending off a wild dog, “we don’t want to fight.” Bucky remains silent, his metal arm whirling as he tightens his fist. “We can all go to the jet-” 

“No,” Bucky growls out, his flesh hand twitching back, his fingers gently touching the fabric of your top. He’s reassuring himself that you’re there, you realize suddenly, that you’re safely behind him. “You’ll hurt her.” Bucky says. 

“No, we won’t, Barnes. We won’t hurt her, we’re all friends here.” Sam says as he steps forward. He goes slowly, but the movement still has Bucky shifting forward, ready to rip into him. It’s Steve’s quick reflexes, his arm flying out and pulling Sam back, that saves him from the soldier. 

“No, you’ll hurt her,” Bucky repeats as though he’s a broken record. Even without seeing his face you can feel the soldier’s distress, the need in him to fight the others, the need to protect you from harm. You don’t know why, but the soldier’s set this mission of your protection for himself. And though you haven’t seen him in action before, you know he’d do anything to finish a job. 

“Go,” you say from behind Bucky, your hand rests on his back, reassuring him you’re not in harm’s way while your words are directed to your team. Your head peeks over his shoulder and you look at Nat, Steve and Sam, weapons still in hand. “He doesn’t trust you. Go back to the jet and have Tony send another for Bucky and I.” You’re not surprised to see all three of them shaking their heads at you. 

“Y/N,” Steve begins but you shake your head. 

“He won’t hurt me. It’s you three he’ll hurt, go and I can get us back to the compound.” 

“Y/N he’s not safe. He can still hurt you, you’ve never dealt with the soldier. He might turn on you the second we’re gone.” Bucky’s fingers tighten their hold on your shirt. 

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take. Now go, before he really starts to fight you.” Steve goes to speak again but Nat cuts him off. 

“Okay, we’ll go.” Both Sam and Steve look at her as if she were crazy, but Nat just shakes her head at them before taking slow steps away from you and Bucky. “We’ll get Tony to send another jet as soon as we’re in the air.” She says. With the decision made, Steve and Sam follow after Natasha, giving you a last, concerning look before they disappear around the corner. 

Bucky doesn’t waste any time spinning around to face you, his hands roaming over your body, not to hurt, but to check over for injuries. His gaze might be dead, emotionless, but you can still feel his desperation through his touch. 

“I’m okay,” you sooth, your hands coming up to grab onto his own. 

“They had you.” Bucky rasps. Your lips spread into a soft, gentle smile in an effort to sooth the soldier before you. 

“No, they’re on our side. They’re safe.” Bucky shakes his head at your words, looking away his gaze roams the hall, double checking that it's truly just the two of you in the underground Hydra base. 

“No, not safe. They’ll hurt you.” Instead of arguing you nod your head. 

“Well, I’m safe now.” Bucky nods his head, taking a step back from you. His eyes continue to roam the halls, he almost seems to be at a loss for what to do before you call out to him, your voice catching his attention. “Bucky-” you start before he cuts you off. 

“That’s what the man with the shield called me.” Slowly, you nod your head. It’s painful, seeing your love like this, so deep under Hydra’s control that he doesn’t even recognize his own name. It’s like someone has reached into your chest, gripping your heart tightly, painfully, threatening to rip it out entirely. 

“That’s because it’s your name. Bucky is your name.” Bucky doesn’t respond to that, instead he says, 

“We need to go before they come back.” He goes to reach for your hand, no doubt intending to lead you through the halls and out of the base, but you step back, shaking your head at him. 

“We need to stay.” You say, thinking of the jet that you know Tony’s already set out for you.

“No-” Bucky begins before you cut him off. 

“That’s an order.” The words taste like acid in your mouth. Bucky stands a touch taller at your words and nods his head. The sight of it makes bile threaten to come up and burn your mouth. Not because he’s the soldier, ready to comply and do whatever his master orders of him, but because of yourself, because of you, who promised to never hurt him, just did. He might not realize it, but you surely can, and it makes it all the more painful. 

It’s scary, you think to yourself, how easily the two of you play into Hydra’s hands.

“Let’s just sit here for now,” you say, praying your words don’t sound like a command to Bucky. You slide your back down against the wall until you’re sitting on the cold concrete floor, Bucky following you until he’s right at your side, his flesh arm touching your own. 

You talk to him in an attempt to bring Bucky back. You talk about his name and the team, about the room you share back at the compound. All the while he stays silent, his eyes still glancing around for danger. 

When he puts his head between his knees you almost don’t notice it, he’s so quiet, not even a groan falling from his lips. He’s sat for a moment before his breathing begins coming faster, a panic starting to set in him as he looks at his hands, then the floor he’s sat on and the empty hall. 

“Bucky,” his head snaps so quickly in your direction you worry he’ll give himself whiplash. His eyes are wide, filled with wild emotion. 

He’s back. He’s himself again. 

“Y/N,” he breathes. He sits up on his knees as he turns to you, looking you over. “I was him, wasn’t I?” You nod your head at him. 

“But it’s okay, you’re okay.” You add quickly. Bucky shakes his head, never taking his eyes off you. 

“But you, the others? What did I do?” You gently put a hand on his arm, reassuring him all is okay. 

“It was odd, really, none of us expected it,” Bucky’s already lowering his head, expecting to hear the worst, but your words surprise him, “when you turned into the soldier, I ran to the others. You caught up and from what you had told me I was expecting a fight, a bad fight, but…” you trail off, not knowing how to continue. 

“But what, Y/N?” Bucky asks desperately, his blue eyes meeting your own. 

“Well, you fought Steve a bit, he was standing at my side, with him out of the way you grabbed me,” you can feel Bucky tense beneath your hand at your words, fear shining brightly in his eyes, “you pinned me to the wall and then turned around, Bucky. You protected me, you stood in front of me, ready to fight the others to keep me safe.”

“I, I did?” Bucky asks you, clearly shocked by the turn of events. You nodded your head. 

“You kept saying that they’d hurt me. They tried explaining that we were all on the same team but you wouldn’t listen. The soldier was convinced that the others would hurt me and you couldn’t let that happen.” Slowly, Bucky nods, an attempt at digesting your words. 

“I, I don’t think the soldier has ever done that,” Bucky murmurs, more to himself than to you. 

“It’s strange, but I’m all the more happy for it.” Standing up you pull Bucky up with you and begin making your way through the halls to outside. “I’m sure the jet has landed by now, let’s go home, Bucky. We’ll talk more after we’ve cleaned up and had a rest.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky blurts out but you shake your head at him. 

“It’s okay, you had no control and luckily no one got hurt,” looking up at him you add, “I love you.”  Bucky’s hand reaches for your own, his touch as gentle as a childs. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”